The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Little bells jingled as the door swung open. John stood expectantly. There should have been a warm greeting, a smile. Nothing. He walked the aisles, then up to the service door, tentatively pushing it open.

“Hello, it’s John. Anyone here?” Only his voice resonated. As he walked towards the register, he saw her red curls as she lay on the floor.

“Oh, God, no... Michelle?” He took her hand and squeezed. “Michelle? Wake up... Michelle!”

She slowly came to in the hospital, but found she could not open her eyes. Her friend’s words floated by one by one. She nodded her head slowly. Yes, she could hear her. Danielle leaned in and said, “Get well.” A touch to Michelle’s forehead sent her back into a recuperative slumber.

Danielle saw a doctor in the hallway conversing with a colleague, and walked towards them in her red velvety dress. Gold earrings swung from each ear, and a diamond bracelet graced her wrist. All a reminder of the holiday party she had attended earlier. The doctor’s eyes wandered appreciatively along her curves. He motioned his colleague away

“May I help you?”, he asked.

“I’m Michelle’s friend. Is she going to be alright?”

“Oh yes. She only has a mild concussion. We’ll observe her for a few more hours just to be certain.” He smiled in a “Doctor Knows Best” sort of way.

Images began playing through Danielle’s mind. “If only you knew what she could do to you right now, were she healthy...”

“Dr. Jennings, please report to the dressing room. It’s an emergency.”

“Dressing room? Right,” the doctor muttered. Probably another night-shift prank. He slammed his clipboard down on the counter and walked around the corner, when a soft yet firm hand yanked him off-balance. Stunned, he felt the pinch. His mouth opened, and an entire sentence came out garbled. He slumped forward against the wall, eyes unfocused.

“That felt good, didn’t it. Dr. Jennings, it’s time to visit someone...” With the second pinch, his body fell beyond feeling, her voice wavering in his ear.

He awoke on a cot in the nap room, straddled by silky thighs, unable to move or speak. Her juices were already spread over his naked cock.. nothing but slickness separated their flesh. The petite blond let out a soft moan before licking her lips. Her eyelashes lifted gently once more.

“Mmmmm.. he’s awakening, Danielle.”

“Not for long.” SNAP!

“Waking up again, are you?”

“Huh?” said the doctor drowsily. His eyes struggled to refocus, as Danielle began rising and falling. Lifting and sinking back down, taking him deeper inside her. “Deeper now, doctor.” As his eyes slid upwards, a stiletto heel planted beside his head. His gaze drifted up a svelte stockinged leg, and higher still. Up her leather skirt, past uncovered treasures. Higher yet, he saw her face. His patient. Michelle lowered herself. He could not use his tongue, yet her essence still trickled slowly into his mouth. He was salivating. Waiting.

“I want your tongue inside me.. Now...” He sought her. She moved her lips closer and -

Danielle snapped out of her daydream, and found Dr. Jennings staring into her eyes. What had SHE done to him? “If I cannot remember, what must be going through his mind?”, she thought. “Nothing!” She walked away with a laugh, ready to go home and rest.

When Dr. Jennings came to his senses, he wiped drool from his chin. He peered into the nap room, just to be sure a “special” patient wasn’t actually waiting for him. No one was near the hospital bed when Michelle received the late night phone call.

“Good, BABYDOLL. You understand and have fully accepted my instructions. Go back to sleep for me now. You’ll know when we should talk again.” Michelle’s hand dropped the receiver onto the bed covers as the hypnotic sedative took effect. The man on the other end lay his phone down. He now would have to wait.

“Hey, its the Luscious Ladies. Happy New Year!” John wore a shiny fedora with large glittery numerals. “Michelle, you’re lovely as always. I’m glad you’re feeling better. What can I get you?”

“Just ginger ale tonight, John. I’m still feeling a bit loopy.” Michelle lifted her hand to her face.

“Make that two ginger ales,” said Danielle.

John planted two bottles on the bar top and twisted them open in rapid succession. While he poured their drinks, Danielle turned around. Sure enough, a small group of men had already gathered around Kylie. No doubt she was spinning a tale to enthrall them.

“We now bring you our special report regarding hypno-seducers,” the announcer proclaimed from the TV behind the bar.

“John, could you turn that up?”

“They’re crafty, they’re bold, and you can bet they are out in force this evening. Hypno-seducers. You may not have heard of them, and now that you do, they will want you to forget this Action 16 exclusive. To get a better understanding of the power of hypnosis, we interviewed Dr. Greta Ayes. She’s a practicing clinical hypnotherapist and author of the best-selling book Taken, which describes how people can quickly hand over control to another.”

“So, Dr. Ayes, you’re telling me that anyone can be brought into trance covertly?” One of the reporters’ eyebrows rose.

“Yes, and it’s so easy to implant post-hypnotic suggestions. Wouldn’t you be surprised to find yourself finishing your report with a raging hard-on?” Dr. Ayes cupped her chin in her hand, and smiled.

“I will show you how this is done. Perhaps you find yourself getting a little drowsy now...” The camera angle gradually drooped towards the floor, then the film clip cut out. The stunned newswoman stared at her co-anchor. His face was turning crimson as he glanced down at his crotch.

“I don’t remember any of that,” he said. “That feels really good. Man...”

“But of course that’s not all,” the woman said hastily. “Several weeks ago an unidentified college student went on a hypnotic rampage, carrying THIS book.” She held up a copy of Max Bernardo’s The Art of Hypno-Seduction. Ginger-ale shot from Danielle’s nose.

“Are you alright?”, asked John.

“Oh shit!”, she said.

John glanced warily at the TV. “Is that bothering you?”

“No, no. Please keep it on.”

“... so we caught up to Max yesterday at his posh suburban estate to see what he’s been up to lately. His housekeeper let us in on his dark little secret.”

“He sits there, stare at spiral,” the dark-haired woman said as she ushered the reporter into the hallway. “No make sudden move.” The camera shook slightly as it panned into a large room. Max’s back was turned to the camera as he sat in front of his computer. Everything seemed to be in a state of disorder, empty pizza boxes stacked atop the coffee table alongside greasy used napkins.

“Mr. Bernardo, this is Action 16 news. Can you hear me?”, asked the reporter softly. “C’mon, let’s get a closeup and see what he’s doing.” A hand hastily covered the lens.

“Back! Back! Nasty porn. Nasty porn. Let me see if I can rouse him for an interview...”

“But mister, I tell you this no good.” The reporter lay his hand on Max’s shoulder anyway; he spun around in his chair, hands flailing to remove headphones.

“Aaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

“See, I tell you bad things happen. I go to make him drink now.” The newscast cut back to the anchor desk.

“That’s scary footage there. Police are still puzzled by the recent slaying of a man allegedly associated with Max Bernardo. As reported first on Action 16 News, Winston Bailey was shot to death on Christmas Eve at his home.”

“Turn it off.” As the TV went silent, Michelle and John pulled close around Danielle.

“Winston Bailey... I don’t remember seeing his name on Max’s membership rolls,” said Danielle. “Do you, Michelle?”

“No.” Michelle sipped her ginger ale.

Danielle turned to John. “When Eric gets here, could you tell him I had to leave.”

“Sure, Danielle, I can do that,” he said. “Is something wrong?”

“Just feeling a little sick to the stomach. Michelle, could you give me a ride home? I wouldn’t want to pull Kylie away from the boys so soon.”

“Sure.”

Danielle quickly fell asleep in the passenger seat. She was so grateful when she lay down in her warm bed. But a revealing dream was already incubating in her mind. Fitful and incessant, it drew energy into itself, until it became real....

Danielle found herself walking. Spring sunlight supported her footsteps, as a breeze ferried a single lily-white petal past her face. She approached the tavern door, and as she pulled it open, she looked instinctively for Stephen. But he was nowhere to be seen. No other patrons were present, either. All different from the dream she knew in the past. Phil stood behind the bar. A smoldering gun lay on the bar top next to him.

“This place hasn’t been the same since I left, has it?” Phil uncapped a bottle of beer and took a swig.

“What is this, Phil?”, Danielle asked as he walked out from the bar.

“It’s a dream, Danielle. Think carefully about that fact before tattling to the police.” Phil’s decayed grin festered on the fringes of madness. “I needed you, and you turned me away.”

“I tried to help, but you didn’t want it.” Danielle’s breath condensed in the air, growing colder.

“Seasons change, Danielle. I don’t need your help anymore. You broke promises. Winston did too.” Danielle’s teeth chattered. She turned her head away from Phil’s rancid breath.

“The difference is that this dream is real, Danielle.” Phil turned his back to her and walked back towards the bar. “Or call it a nightmare. I don’t care anymore. The outcome will be the same. I’m watching you now.” He picked up the gun and tucked it in his waistband.

“Wake up, Danielle. You’re sleepwalking. Wake... up!” Danielle struggled in her state of delirium. “Danielle, it’s me.... WAKE... UP!” Danielle found herself in her sister’s arms, staring out her open bedroom window into the night. On the other side of the street, a car started fitfully, then pulled away.

Danielle threw her pen down on the desk, and swept her dark hair back with both hands.

“I just keep thinking about that dream. I wish I knew where Phil was. What if he sees me with Eric, and goes after him?” Her sister sat down next to her.

“Avoiding Eric isn’t a long-term solution. You need each other.” The woman touched Danielle’s hand, and she lifted her gaze.

“Okay... I’ll call him.”

“These are lovely, Eric. Thank you so much.” He smiled shyly, and she pulled him close for a kiss. Her sister had obviously gotten to her boy first, and was grateful for her wisdom. She had no idea that inside her mind there was a timed trigger, waiting to go off.

“There’s another gift, Danielle. Time to open it,” Phil’s voice hissed in the darkness as she slept.

Eric awoke. He reached over, but where there should have been warmth, his hand felt cool fabric.

“M-Mistress Danielle?”

Faint predawn light filtered in through the blinds as he stood and looked outside. Her car wasn’t there anymore. His hand brushed against an envelope on the table. Turning on a light, he saw his name written in cursive on the front. He raised it up close to his face, and breathed in traces of her perfume. So pleasant. Sighing, he gently unfolded a letter. As water calmly pulls away from the shore before the tsunami, the emptiness of the letter belied it’s significance. She had already planted the suggestions. All he had to do was read two words. The letter said simply: “Forgive me”

Not so far away, the first rays of dawn fell upon Danielle; she wept as she stood by the window. It was too late to help her boy.

The wave crashed within Eric’s mind. His last memories of her were fading. For a moment, he thought he saw her standing on a sand dune, gold letters swirling on red nails. One last time he envisioned her blue eyes and her breeze-stroked raven hair. His pupils dilated, his fingers fell open, and the letter fell in slow motion. Eric walked out of that hotel room, oblivious to the icy wind, knowing only that he longed to be home, wherever that was. Back in the hotel room, his coat still hung from a chair. Bits of gift wrap were scattered all about; in the center of the table sat an opened velvet black box, dazzling, as sunlight reflected through the facets of a diamond ring.

Later that day, Danielle struggled privately, but gradually slipped into her shopkeeper routine. Her store was full of loyal customers to keep her mind occupied.

“Stephen! Good to see you!” Michelle stepped forward and gave the new arrival a hug. Last year the man had walked through their door, so unsure of where he was going.

“Sorry I hadn’t come sooner,” the man said. “It’s not too late to pick something out, is it?”

“No, not yet,” Michelle laughed. “At least you came to your senses, and didn’t settle for a card and flowers.” Stephen shrugged sheepishly.

“I’m just ribbing you! What do you have in mind today? More stockings?”

“I understand you have some vintage items...?” Her eyes lit up.

“Yes! They practically sell themselves, but don’t tell Danielle; after all, I need this job! I think we may have some stock in the back. Come with me.” Michelle extended her hand and they disappeared together.

“Excuse me”, Danielle muttered to a lady. She walked to the back, leaving a line of customers waiting at the register.

“... now these have a seam that runs down the back of the leg, accentuating their length. Very classy. What do you think?”

“Nice. I think I’ll buy two pairs of those.”

“Stephen, I have a question for you.” The pair looked over at Danielle, who quickly brushed hair back from her eyes. “Have you enjoyed the Gift?”, she asked. “I mean, you ... and Elaine.” Stephen was taken aback. What a question to be asked. He paused to carefully consider what he would say.

“Yes. A few times. It was magic. But...” Stephen bit his lip pensively, as Danielle’s eyes pierced his soul.

“I’m grateful, Danielle. I really am. But we’re taking things very slowly. I don’t know how to say this... Here at the Crossroads I feel like anything can happen to anybody. Magic happens here so regularly, it’s so easy to take it for granted. But it doesn’t happen everywhere, certainly not all the time. I made a mistake. I compared the Crossroads to home. It’s not the same. Inside, Elaine is still a girl who just wants to be held close.”

“I see,” Danielle said, her eyes watering. “But you are still here to honor your love to her?”

“Yes,” Stephen said.

“That’s important. Honoring... the ones... you love..” Danielle’s voice broke up; she turned away from him and planted her hands on her desk for support. Only moments later, Kylie entered the room.

“There you are! I wondered where – Danielle, what’s wrong?” Everything came rushing out in jumbled sentences, wrought with emotion. The nightmare. The ring. What she had done to Eric. Michelle abruptly dropped lingerie boxes onto the floor, and shuffled out of the room, followed by three pairs of eyes. Kylie turned back to the others.

“Something is not right...”, she said. She walked out, and found Michelle back behind the store counter, staring vacantly while speaking into a phone.

“Babydoll here.” Kylie angrily snatched the receiver and listened.

“Good BABYDOLL. It’s really happened then? Good. Time for payback...”

“PHIL, GODDAMN YOU,” Kylie screamed, “I KNOW IT’S YOU! I KNOW YOUR FUCKING VOICE...” She looked into Michelle’s doll eyes again, and her screams became shrill. “YOU BASTARD! YOU TURNED MICHELLE INTO A ZOMBIE. GODDAMN FUCKING ASSHOLE!” The line went silent, and she slammed the phone down. Very slowly, she lifted her eyes, and realized every last customer was staring; the potty-mouthed faerie put one hand to her mouth and blushed.

“Sorry... ummmm.. we’re having a little problem here. We’ll be back in a few minutes.” Kylie pulled mightily, and led Michelle to the back room again. Sadness gradually succumbed to a recognition of truth.

“Phil brewed trouble, and brought it back to the Crossroads,” Danielle said. “How can we find him and make this right?”

“Call Max,” Kylie said. “Phil is a loner, not a real leader. If he wants to start trouble with a bunch of men, he will go back to Max. Soon.”

“I think you’re right,” Danielle replied. She gave Stephen a hug. “I’m sorry. This has taken us all by surprise.”

“It’s okay,” Stephen said, anger rising. “I hope you nail that man to a wall.”

“So do I.”

Danielle stepped up to the glassy-eyed redhead. Her hand lifted the woman’s curls, then slowly grasped tighter, pulling the woman’s head forward until it rested against her bosom.

“Once a time to sleep. Now a time to rise. You were once mine, and you will be again.” The words meant for Michelle’s ears also held meaning for another. Danielle looked outward again with hope.

“You no understand. Max busy. Always busy, watching swirly thing. Hey!” The housekeeper flinched, as the man pushed her aside.

“Leave, or I call police.”

“Can it!” Phil pulled out his gun, and motioned the woman away from the door. “I’m going to see Max now. Lead me to him.”

“Okay. But I warn you. No startle. No big noise.”

BLAM! BLAM! The monitor cracked and smoked.

BLAM! BLAM! The PC executed the ultimate emergency shutdown procedure, as a hard drive spun down. The motherboard split into fragments.

“Wake up, Max. It’s time to lead the revolution.” Phil said.

Max stood up and walked over to a mirror.

“Okay, but I’m going to need three things: a shower, a trip to the barbershop, and a new silk shirt.”

“You got it,” Phil said gleefully. Max was BAAAAACK! Or so Phil thought...

A smile erupted on Max’s face in the shower. Danielle had called him earlier, and he did love her voice.. He would do anything for her... anything... the concept was beyond Phil. Handing that man over to her on a plate would be such a pleasure...

That evening in a raucous bar, a group of men held court. Three of them were at the table of honor.

“You can’t remember her at all?”, Phil asked. Eric shook his head.

“She’s definitely a cruel one. Eric, let Max and I help you. We can put you back in...” The word stuck in his mind. He couldn’t recall what he was about to say. Strange sensations inundated him: lethargy, heaviness, lightness, numb tingling. His awareness shut down in an instant, as it did for all who heard the music. Now instead of voices – empty chatter—there was only the melody.

“’In control?’” asked Danielle. As she drew close, she removed plugs from both of her ears. “That IS what you meant to say.” She stood gazing at three men. Max. Phil. Eric. “Three songs. Three men. Choices. What to do?” She turned to Max first. Looking down at his arm, she ripped the sleeve from his black silk shirt. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple.

“Winston and Phil laid such dark plans. I COULD have taken you down so easily. It could have happened, probably this very evening. Would you like to know more about the power of the dark spiral?” She paused to prove a point.

“See, now you realize just how helpless and passive you are. The danger is real. Listen...” Danielle pulled up a barstool, and sat down at the table next to Max. His eyes closed, and visions took hold of his imagination.

“Today you received the phone call you longed for: the woman of your dreams, Danielle, tossed her boy aside. Being egotistical, and dare I say, a bit deluded—a side-effect of staring at spirals all day—you would have invited me to dinner, unaware of the anger seething within me....” The images became real in his mind. He could see exactly what she was describing to him.

Max was putting the finishing touches on the dinner setting when Danielle arrived. He took her coat, and gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek. They sat down to wonderful meal by candlelight: roasted duck, seasoned rice, and fresh vegetables, complemented by an excellent red wine. Max was already looking forward to “dessert”. Danielle’s blue eyes sparkled brighter than her diamond earrings. Her porcelain skin was perfectly framed by a red satin dress. Her black stockinged legs teased, as her high heel dangled precariously from her toes. It could drop at ANY moment. He was especially pleased that all ten of her digits were painted a deep red. Everything about her seemed to hint at pleasure.

But before Max could hint at anything sexual, Danielle surprised him. She admitted she had a gift waiting in her car, and asked him for assistance. Thinking only good would come of it, he followed her into the night. When he opened the passenger door, he found a large decorative box on the front seat. What in the world could it be? Although heavy, Max had no trouble carrying it.

After setting it on the coffee table, Max noticed that Danielle was shaking. “Cold?", he asked.

“Yes, I am” she said as she closed the distance. “Get on your knees, Max”. He wanted to resist, but his legs became jello-like; he yelped as they hit the floor. He found himself utterly paralyzed, only able to watch as she tore at gift wrap, gradually revealing a dark wooden box, which she opened.

“The turntable?!” Max began to sweat.

“Yes. Just one more minute.” She plugged it into a nearby outlet, and picked out the album: ‘Desire’. The platter began spinning quietly.

“The tables can turn so quickly. Pleasure. Pain. They are not far apart,” she remarked.

“But your nails are red!", Max exclaimed, breath quickening.

“Red. Yes, Max, there is a role for red to play.” She lowered one hand before his eyes. In the candlelight, patterns swirled on them until they resolved into five letters. R-E-L-A-X. The conversation was over. Max’s face became still, as the platter kept spinning. She picked up her coat and walked out.

Max stared wonderingly at his left arm as it started to twitch, moving unnaturally. It reached out to the turntable and lifted the other arm: the one holding the needle. His hand arced over a few more inches, and dropped it down towards the beginning of the dark spiral, where pain awaited him... He braced himself for the sensation of black nails...

Max’s eyes opened again, tears falling from his eyes. Danielle still held his black sleeve in her hand. He suddenly found he could speak again. “No. Please, Danielle.”

“I’m not a monster, Max.” She leaned forward and with her index finger gently touched the center of the spiral engraved on his shoulder. To his eyes, it pulsed blue at the center momentarily, then light shot outward, tracing the individual arcs. At each tip, there was a brief pulse, before the light winked out. Max’s jaw dropped. The dark spiral was gone. Faint healed scars were the only evidence that anything had ever been there.

Max shook his head. “I don’t understand this. It was there.”

“All in your mind, Max. Winston had studied you well, and knew what could trap you. But he underestimated my forgiveness. Despite all the terrible things you have done in the past, I forgive you. But... before you go you will have to swear you’ll do one thing for me.”

“Anything. I’ll do anything you ask. What would you have me do?”, Max asked.

“Find a woman and keep her happy. You’re a natural charmer; don’t ever forget that. There... actually was a moment when I sat across from you, and I thought about losing control.” Max looked stunned.

“Forgive my momentary lapse in judgment. You are, after all, a complete bullshitting asshole.”

“Of course,” Max said with a grin. Then his face took on a solemn look.

“I’ll do my best. It’s been an honor knowing you, Danielle.” He picked up his coat, looked back once, then walked out the door. Danielle turned to the next man.

“Phil, Phil, Phil...,” she chided. “You, on the other hand, are completely, totally FUCKED.” Michelle pulled out her cell phone and made a call.

“Yes... I’d like to report a disturbance at the Rockford Bar & Grill. It involves drugs. Men are doing disturbing things, acting like dogs...”

“Excuse me, ma’am.”, said the dispatcher. “Did you say ‘acting like dogs’?”

The pack leader, previously known as Phil, emerged from the alley on all fours, and sniffed the air.

“What the hell?!” Officer Gottlokkey exclaimed as he ran back to his cruiser. Peering over the hood, he saw more nekkid men emerging from the alleyway, also crawling and snuffling about. The officer heard rapid clicking of heels on pavement; he started to draw his weapon, but relaxed when he realized it just was a woman – a petite one at that.

“Ma’am, this isn’t a safe place to be,” said the officer.

“I know. You see the dog men too?”, she asked.

“Yes... I wonder what’s wrong with them?”

“Someone told me they were doing drugs in the back of the bar.”

“That’s what the dispatcher said. I’d better call in the NARC unit.” The officer quietly unlocked and pulled the cruiser door open. Sliding across the seat, he motioned her inside. She pulled the door shut and locked it.

“Central dispatch, disturbance confirmed at Rockford Bar & Grill. We need the NARC unit, NOW.”

“Confirmed. Which dog should we deploy?”

“Umm.. better go with the big one.”

“Dispatch confirming NARC dog deploy. ETA 30 seconds.”

“You have more than one dog?”, the woman asked.

“Oh yes, ma’am. One for bomb detection, one for simple drug busts, and, well, a heavy-duty dog.”

“What’s his name?”, she asked.

“Petey.” He looked in the rear view mirror. “Good, they’re here.” A black van pulled up in front of the cruiser, the lettering on the back plain white: “NARC DOG” Several men exited the vehicle, then ducked around street-side, as the “pack” ran down the sidewalk, howls filling the air. The officer glanced at the side mirror. The pack finally stopped a half-block down the street. One of them took a whiz on a fire hydrant, his leg dangling in the air.

“Officer Gottlokkey, please respond.”, crackled the radio.

“Office Gottlokkey here.”

“Was that them?”, asked a droll voice.

“Yes.”

“Roger.”

The woman’s soft hand began gliding across the officer’s shoulder as he put away the radio mic. “My name is Kylie. What’s yours?”

“Mick... Mick Gottlokkey, at your service.” Two men stepped up to either side of the van, keys in hand.

“This is the cool part,” Mick said. “See, they’ll turn the two keys at the same time, and...”

“There’s no more need to pay attention, Mick.” Her finger twirled against his cheek, and he slowly turned his head to her. “...unless you want to listen to what I’m saying to you. Then it’s okay to pay ... perfect... attention.” Warning lights from the van began painting everything red, but Mick was already becoming oblivious.

“.. That’s right.. No matter what happens, you just look right into my eyes. Say it.”

“... no matter... what.. ” The back doors of the van swung open, and a ramp extended down. Bright floodlights shone within, obscured by a white fog that slowly drifted outward. The NARC officers were all back safely inside the front of the van.

“Officer Gottlokkey, I need visual confirmation. Is NARC dog ready to deploy?” Kylie turned her head, and was taken aback. There stood possibly the biggest dog she’d ever seen: black and tan, a rolling red tongue licking furiously around his snout. He missed a spot, leaving a spot of white powder on the corner of his jowls. Only a single thick chain link connected to the wall kept the dog at bay from the world at large.

“Repeat, need visual confirmation. He hasn’t gotten into the bust stash again, has he?” Kylie picked up the radio mic and handed it to Mick while shaking her head.

“...nope,” came Mick’s dazed reply.

“Roger. Deploying NARC dog.” The magnetic seals released, and Petey’s chain clattered on the van bed. “Hang back there, Gottlokkey. Petey is going to engage the perps now.” Sound erupted from a loudspeaker, as the command was issued.

“GO GET ‘EM PETEY!” The dog shook his head side-to-side, howled, and jumped out of the van with a snarl. He appeared only as a blur to Mick; his face was sliding down the glass as Kylie bit his ear and whispered, “Mick, oh you stud...” Howls and cries echoed down the street. Michelle emerged from the end of the alleyway and looked in the direction of the ruckus. She winced and shook her head as she slowly coiled up her whip.

“Ohhhh.. Phil, that’s definitely going to hurt in the morning.”

Eric gazed once more into Danielle’s eyes.

“How does it begin again?”, he asked. She smiled. The answer was simple.

“Breathe.”. Eric closed his eyes, and she brought everything back to him. Everything.

Soon, a man and a woman sat staring into the other’s eyes. Minutes slowly stretched to the far horizon. Within that sacred space, there was only room for two. Dominant and submissive. Feminine and masculine. “Affirmation” drew all pairs towards its center, effortlessly spiraling into a singularity, where there was no place for fear, doubts, or regret. The song carried a simple message: “be loved”.

The couple walked out into the open air, hand in hand. Danielle’s hand brushed Eric’s cheek tenderly; the diamond ring now sparkling under moonlight. He had found his life’s guide.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” she whispered, as he smiled.

And so the dance begins anew...