The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Four

I managed to keep it from Oliver. At least for awhile.

A very little while.

I was sitting in the kitchen five days after my first dream, enjoying my Saturday morning tea and trying to read a book, with Lovewoman hanging around the edges of my thoughts. I still had no idea what to call her, so that seemed as good a name as any.

I’d had other dreams and visions of her since then, and each one was more intense, more real. Each time, Oliver managed to screw it up. On Thursday evening, when I was taking a nap alone in the house, he’d even managed to show up in the dream itself, asking where the peanut butter was.

He was getting to be a real pain in the ass.

I suppose he must have noticed, because that morning he came into the breakfast nook and sat down across from me.

“Kim, is everything okay? You’ve seemed... well, down. Distracted maybe. I don’t know. Have I done something to offend you?”

“Of course not, Oll. I’ve just been under a lot of stress. Work seems to be taking up so much of my time, and then things here are... not enough to get me out of it. It’s really been wearing me out.” I wasn’t ready. Not yet. But it wouldn’t be much longer.

“Okay, hon.” He stood up and patted me on the head. “I just want you to be happy.”

Like a fucking dog. He patted me like I was his fucking dog.

He stood and walked to the door, and then turned around. “You do still love me, right?”

I think that was when it hit me. It wasn’t like I hated him. He was becoming irrelevant. I couldn’t make myself feel dismayed. Instead, I felt a kind of relief.

I played off my hesitation as being distracted by my book. “Of course I do. You know that.”

He smiled his sweetest smile and left me to my book and my thoughts. Patronizing jerk.

Having him around was like avoiding a mosquito. Pesky, insignificant, and really, really irritating.

I let my book sit open and unread on the table, turning pages on occasion just to keep the facade going. My eyes weren’t looking at words. I don’t even remember which book it was.

I was thinking of Lovewoman. Her lips called to me, beckoned me, told me secret things, things of love and pleasure, spoke to me as she licked and kissed my hot skin, my flesh obeying her every summons. Her eyes, lit like twinkling fires, consumed my mind. I had been worried, and even fought it, but I could see now how perfectly natural it was to watch the scraps of my hesitation evaporate, replaced with deeper and deeper desire for her.

My pussy was wet for her. My nipples erect for her. My tongue craved the taste of her, and the latex of which she was so fond. Her voice was the voice of purest truth and beauty. Every moment, every plan was becoming more devoted to pleasing her, and I received pleasure on top of pleasure in return. And when she held me, although only still in my dreams, it was like being floated in a chorus of lust-soaked angels. Or demons. I didn’t really give a fuck which.

And God, what pleasure. My body had never known the levels of surrender and bliss that the mere thought of her brought to me. When she first said she owned me, I was terrified. Horrified. Guilty.

Now, without a thought, I was welcoming her, allowing her to define my love, my life, my pleasure. Orgasm tripped at the edges of my awareness—Ulimate Orgasm, orgasm that would consume me finally until there was nothing left but her thoughts, her desires, her will. She was teasing me into total surrender and passion.

I moaned with the emotion of it. Yes, once I had thought I’d loved Oliver. What I’d felt hadn’t really changed. But like the taste of cheap champagne, desire for him—the need for him—had been replaced by deep, full reds. Wine from the vineyards of lust, love and fulfillment.

The heady wine that was Lovewoman.

“Venus.“

It came from out of nowhere. Her voice sent me through a wracking spasm of cascading orgasms, my breath rasping out of me and my eyes rolling back as I tried to keep my moans quiet. ”Her name. She has blessed me with Her name...“ My head rammed back into the wall and my legs splayed, spreading my juices onto the chair cushion as my inhibitions ruptured into a swell of firey, molten paradise.

The last thing I thought was that Her time had come, and mine was tied to Her beyond measure. Then, I was the pleasure, covered in the rippling, orgasmic veil of eternal devotion.

There was no need for more, nor fear of less. She had become my existence, and my existence was rapture. I succumbed and surrendered to Her will and Her pleasure, as my heart beat Her passion through me and Her lust gifted me. The air filled with the animal grunts and mewls that were escaping my lips.

My pleasure gradually melted away, leaving me feeling warm and blessed with a depth beyond words.

I wept in love, devotion and joy as Her voice came to me.

“Now you see. Now you know. And here is what you must do...”

Five

The drive into the city was the same blur that had bothered me so much after my first night with Her. But it now felt normal to have my mind, my more casual thoughts somewhere else, doing whatever thoughts do. My hands would steer me, my feet start and stop me. I kept my true mind where it needed to be.

And where it needed to be was focused the image and love of the Woman whose name and image was my sole point of guidance and passion in an increasingly meaningless world.

It was like slipping through lust as thick as the jet black of the deepest ocean. Every thought, every motion was a slow, glistening pleasure, knowing that I was acting within Her will.

The will of Venus.

Her round, slick, inviting ass. Her eyes that brooked no questions. Her lips that tasted my cunt and that on which I could taste myself before falling to Her gushing wellspring of womansex and perfectly formed clitoris, bathing inside and out in Her juices— juices that would transform me further, whether in dream or reality.

There was no difference. In my life, Her cravings and desires were my only reality.

I should never have wondered. I was Hers.

My mind, Hers to toy with.

My body, Hers to play with.

My thoughts, Hers to mold and transform.

My pleasure, Hers to create as I pleased Her.

I was nothing, less than nothing. An extension of Venus, rising up so that I could lower myself before Her.

I went from store to store, only aware in the dimmest way that I was traveling across the city, shopping for what She wanted. I was in dangerous places, in the finest of neighborhoods, and everywhere in between.

I only paid attention to Her. I knew that I was finding what She wanted for me. I didn’t care to know what I was doing for Her. She would reveal it when She felt it was right. I let my body do its chores for Her, bathing in the pleasure She gave as each task was completed. I didn’t need to know. I only needed to obey and focus.

Obey and focus.

Ollie the mosquito was not home when I returned. There was a note on the back door that said he’d been called onsite for a work project, and would be very, very late.

How nice of him to leave me time alone with the One who owned me now. Were he more than an afterthought, I might have even been grateful. But I realized that his presence would make no difference. I would do whatever She asked of me, regardless of Oliver, regardless of anything.

Anything.

I obeyed Venus, and Venus only.

Six

I was naked. I didn’t remember taking off my clothes. I was standing at the bathroom mirror, my lips pouting beneath my half-closed eyes. I was a picture of burning desire.

“Soon. Very soon. You are to become Mine fully tonight, love.”

My legs quaked and I nearly fell over at the sound of Her voice. Yes. Quivering need. Fuckflesh. Obey. Nothing more, nothing less.

I saw the bags lying around me, and tore them open, ravenous for the contents. I gasped as I pulled out latex panties, seeing them for the first time. A bra followed. A strap-on harness with a dildo straight from the pleasures of hell. Long and thick, but not like a penis... ridges and protrusions leapt from its surface, its only purpose the transmission of pleasure from one woman to another.

There was a butt plug made right into the panties, and by the time I pulled them up, the insides were so wet from my juices that it slipped easily into my clenching asshole. Her asshole, I remembered.

The bra had little tight ridged cups that clung and pulled at my nipples. Every move was a torture of increasing pleasure. My lips, now a deep burgundy from the chosen lipstick, contrasted against my creamy flesh. I was making myself into the object of Her most passionate fantasy.

There was no higher calling.

I tied back my hair into a tight bun after applying a generous portion of wet gel.

I looked into the mirror again and spun around. My scant clothes caressed me, whispered Her pleasure to me. She would never be able to resist the attentions of Her enthralled concubine. I was born to please Her, to be part of Her, to exist as a tool for Her higher purpose.

I had surrendered to Her, and my reward was near.

I walked into the bedroom, and there She was, lying on the bed, waiting.

Finally.

I fell to my knees in awe as She stood, Her body of black and flesh tightly clad in second skin of latex, nearly a mirror image of my own. The smell of Her sex mixed with the strong rubbery aroma and my head began to spin. She walked over to me and pulled my chin upwards, to look into Her bottomless eyes.

When She released Her hold on my face, my eyes closed and I fell forward. My lips brushed against Her belly. I caught the slightest trace of perfumed skin and moaned as my craving for Her doubled. Doubled again. She gave a delighted gasp and my clit sparked hard, sending me into Her. My tongue extended and ran up the center of her belly as She arched into it, taking every sensation I was giving Her and pouring it back into me with Her mind.

Her hands were running over my head now, rubbing it all over as if it were a crystal ball. My captive face followed Her movements and traced them onto Her body with my lips and tongue. My hands reached up to find Her latex-covered ass, and I scratched, pulling Her to me.

This time She growled and fell back onto the bed, pulling me up and then over with Her. Without a word, She pressed my nose into Her pussy, and the slit in Her panties opened for my tongue as I tasted Her, tangy sweat and bitter blackness, and finally, the juices I’d been craving for as long as I could remember.

A light went off in my head like a flashbulb. I remembered... only five days ago I had met her, and in a dream. This was crazy.

The flash bulb went off again and I came, my tongue quaking and dancing deep into Her sex. I was wrong. Five days ago I’d been shown what I’d always known... that I was Hers. But why would I have ever married Ollie...

Flash.

The picture enlarged as I saw my entire life, and watched Her walk into it, past, present, and future. She became part of everything I’d ever done and seen and wanted. It was all to lead me to Her.

I felt the last of my resistance crumble and flake away under the heat of Her lust and will. This was where I belonged. Where She belonged. Bonded to each other for all eternity, with Her in control.

I would obey.

I would obey Her forever and beyond.

My tears fell onto Her and She began to grind into my face, Her juices and lust and love and passion pouring into me, changing me, giving me Her power, Her will, Her mission... my eyes went blind as my body melted into Hers and our pleasure became one, hearts beating together, cumming and cumming together, pleasure forever, Her pleasure —always Her pleasure—was my only pleasure—my only desire... and time lost all meaning as I was swept into Her destiny, Her purpose, burning with need to obey... to please... to love...

Venus...

Seven

I woke up early, with Her still sleeping beside me. The buzz in my head of Her was still constant, directing me, pleasuring me with words of what needed to be done to bring things full circle.

Ollie was nowhere to be seen—not that it mattered. My life and my love were Hers now, and would be for all eternity.

I kissed Her full, sweet lips and rose, our night of love and passion still burning in my mind and in my pussy. My heart was a cauldron of utter surrender, lust and caring melded together into something newer, something sweeter than the world had ever known.

I rose and made my way to the kitchen. I lit a cigarette and opened the fridge, pulling out several items. I started the coffee maker, and smiled at the twinge it gave me to do anything for Her. After breakfast in bed, perhaps She would be pleased enough to let me dine on the exquisite ambrosia of Her essence... my pussy quivered at the thought.

I was nursing bacon around the pan when I heard a noise from the doorway. I turned around to see Her standing there, a look of curiosity on Her face, as if She were seeing me for the first time. I really couldn’t think of anything to say as I lusted for Her... but finally the words did come. “Back to the land of the living, are we?”

Well, it felt right, you know?

She walked over to me slowly, and put Her arm around my neck. Her other hand found my pussy, already gushing at the vision She presented. She was rubbing my panties against my clit when Her finger pushed through the slit, dancing deep into me as we kissed. I could feel Her heart, still matched to mine, Her moans making my body hum in sympathetic vibration.

Suddenly, She pulled back and put Her hand to her cheek. A pained expression crossed Her face, and She faded into swirls of dust, caught in the morning sunlight.

I stood for a long time, waiting for Her return. An hour passed. Another. She was gone.

Gone.

I knew I would have to find Her. It was a test. It was my mission. It was the challenge to which I would have to rise.

And I will find Her. That’s why I have no more time to stay here, Dr. Anderson. She needs me as much as I need Her. I have to insist that you let me go. I don’t have time for your little games.

So if you’ll excuse me...

Eight

The click of the tape recorder seemed loud, but the silence after was deafening, like having cotton stuffed in his ears. He would have said something, but there was nothing that came to mind.

The man sitting across from him spoke. “That’s about it, Mr. Foushe. After that we had to restrain her. Again. Kimberly can become quite violent, even with the sedation we’ve given her.”

Oliver stared at his hands, noticing the whorls and loops on the tips of his fingers. When he spoke, his voice sounded tentative... defeated. “What exactly is wrong with her? Is there anything that can be done?”

“Well, we’ve never come across a case of multiple personalities so intertwined. Your wife seems to have had a conscious—but dormant —personality that became active and managed to dominate her emotionally, sexually, and intellectually. She got caught in a kind of psychological moebius loop. Basically, her two personalities fell in love, changing places over and over, combining and recombining, excluding everything else in her life. She’s been through the entire cycle five times since she was admitted.”

“You didn’t answer my second question...”

“Well, the bond is strong. We’re working to use logic to break through, but she doesn’t care about logic. She is basically a thrall to herself and the dominatrix to her thrall. The truth? We may never break through. Her grip on reality is tenuous at best, and she just creates her surroundings to match her vision. It’s very sad.”

“So what do I do now?” said Oliver.

“Well, that’s the big question, isn’t it? I’d surely suggest therapy. Perhaps with a little guidance you can make your choices with a little more enlightenment.”

“I see. I guess you might be right.”

Oliver paused, as if taking stock of things.

He continued, “I suppose I should go, now. Thank you, Dr. Anderson.”

“Of course. And Oliver... if there’s anything I can do...”

“I know. I’ll call. Trust me.”

Oliver headed out the door and down the clean white halls of the Shelton Institute for Mental Health. He didn’t think... didn’t see. His mind was somewhere else, somewhere safe. He couldn’t risk thinking about Kim for too long.

He came to the end of the hall and managed to catch an elevator as someone else got off. He faced the doors, watching the floors go by with a slowness that was nearly maddening.

The hairs on the back of his neck raised. He felt like he was being watched. He turned and looked in the mirror that covered the back of the elevator and gasped.

There before him, in latex briefs that left nothing to the imagination, was a man. A very handsome man. Sexy. Despite himself, Oliver gaped. He shook his head to clear it, but the man was still there, the deep pools of his eyes boring into Oliver’s own.

A deep, powerful voice from inside his head said, “Come to me.”

Oliver heard the doors open, turned, and ran from the building as fast as his legs would carry him.

It was some time before he noticed that his cock was hard and rubbing on the inside of his pants.

It felt very, very good.