The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The door is closed. To Joanna and Justin’s ears, things are quiet inside.

It’s a thick fucking door.

On the living room floor, Autumn rides Ed’s face, stuffs his nose with pussy. His nose is her saddle, and miraculously absorbs her weight. Ed sucks her clit when he can, though it’s harder to breathe than plain open-mouthed licking. Ed can eat pussy both ways. It’s not like he doesn’t know how, yet Ed wants to be extra servile to her, so risks passing out pleasuring Autumn this more complicated way.

He does something right. After only a couple minutes, Autumn starts chanting, “I’m going to pee. I’m going to pee. I’m going to pee.” She gets closer each repetition.

Soon Ed thinks, “I’m going to pee.”

He slides out from beneath Autumn just in time, running to the bathroom. He’s right to do this. He has to get to the bathroom, which he does. His apartment is tiny. Ed is slamming the door before Autumn ever even realizes her saddle’s slipped away.

In the bathroom, Ed takes a piss. The jet is radioactive yellow, like after you eat Vitamin B. His legs weaken as it traverses his urethra. Ed shakes the last drops off, feeling a compulsion to put it back in his pants. Weird, having no pants.

Ed suddenly remembers the salvia divinorum in his medicine cabinet. Smoking salvia feels weird too. Weird reminds of weird.

In his medicine cabinet. Come, see what’s inside. There’s toothpaste, floss, little scissors, his razor, aftershave (received free with razor: age 13), a tiny baggie of crumpled black leaves, a Pyrex pipe and a mini-lighter. The baggie is two years old, a long time for Ed to hang onto something mind-expanding. That stuff was too weird for him. Creepy, yet Ed was unwilling to throw it out.

Ed feels suddenly compelled to try it a third time. Remind me to tell you about the first two – scared the shit out of him. This time, Ed is sure, the high will be more pleasant. He’ll surrender this time in a way he fought the previous two. Drift with it. After all, isn’t that what’s important—surrendering to greater order? Realizing Brahman?

Ed overpours the crushed leaves, spilling some. He pockets the baggie. Presently, he tokes that hyperventilating way you’re supposed to smoke salvia, holding the flame to it until his lungs quiver, threatening to explode. He covers the bowl with his lighter to kill the fire and holds it in. His lungs stop quivering, losing all desire to exhale. The upper part of his lungs, the back of his throat and the back of his head and neck tingle pins and needles. Ed wants to set the pipe and lighter down, sit down, sit back. He’ll deflate when he breathes out, into a piece of the scenery. He’ll feel two-dimensional and like that kid in Mark Twain’s Mysterious Stranger. No one here but me and… everything else. Everything else observing him, a staring contest with God. Every item in the room is a prop, present and arranged here on purpose.

Ed can surrender, let this feel incredible. Ed completely submits, seating his ass on the toilet, exhaling slowly and taking a big breath of air. The salivorin buzzes in his head—not like Joanna’s. This buzz is behind his eyes, not in his ears. All Ed can do is breathe and stare straight forward. Concentrate on breathing, deep breathes, fall into the rhythm. Stare straight forward. Soak in it.

What you see is what you get. Hear these words as you read them, muffled and blended with the hum of electricity and monitor emissions. Keep reading. Listen, what you see is what you get. You’ve heard this. Maybe at a yard sale or some significant other convincing you they’re honest. You brainwashed little sucker. You’re looking straight forward, and that’s when you realize. You choose where you look. What you see is more than just what you get. It’s what you want.

If you’re straight, perform an arousing exercise. If other people are home, just read along. But if you’re alone… (I’m going to tell you now, but don’t do it yet.) The next time you’re watching porn or reading a really good porn scene, be the girl. Feel her enjoyment of everything. Her hands. How does it feel touching what she’s touching? Watch her intently. Put yourself in her thinking. Make faces she’s making. Now (and only do this if you’re alone), say in a normal speaking voice, “I’m gay.”

Nobody’s home. Nobody hears you. Funny how that sounds in your voice, huh? Speak as certainly as you can. Convince yourself.

Does it feel like somebody’s watching? Maybe the CIA’s bugged your house. It’s crazy, but a remarkably overpowering feeling. Saying it over and over as you jerk off to porn excites you. It’s all about interpreting adrenaline.

Try it when opportunities arise. The roar of your orgasms will surprise you if like crowds of other people, you are a hypnofetishist and enjoy the fantasy of brainwashing yourself.

Don’t worry. You can’t be made to do anything you don’t want to do. Is there anyone on this site who doesn’t know this by now? If you say you’re gay, it’s not going to make you gay. It’s just going to be a fantasy that makes you cum really hard. Your mind needs this kind of stimuli to grow. Imagining things isn’t going to compel you to do them. Otherwise, you’d throw out your television.

Loudly and confidently shout, “I’m gay!” Don’t do it loud enough that anyone might hear, but realistically gauge how enthusiastically you feel free to declare your homosexuality. You’re alone. Completely by yourself. You can act freely when nobody’s watching.

Nobody’s watching. Say it loudly. Right now. I dare you. When you experience how jarred from the everydayness of your life declaring proudly that you’re gay provides, you’ll be grateful to me for this magic new button that further reduces your need for foreplay.

I’m gay. Say it till you feel comfortable. I mean, if you’re completely alone.

Liberate yourself to act however you want so long as no one’s watching.

And if you’re making excuses for why you shouldn’t bother doing this, be aware that you live in fear of ghosts. You are enslaved by your superego when really, you ought to be enslaved by me.

Ed leans forward and hits the power button on the little TV he keeps for bath time. Porn comes on. Ed could easily enough just open the bathroom door to see sex, but sometimes you need a few minutes alone with your dick. He jerks himself off to orgasm in less than a minute and there’s so much cum. It’s all over his hand. He keeps watching, masturbating, using his cum as lubricant and stays hard. The salvia continues to offer focus, a different lens of focus. Ed’s captivated by the porn star, Jenna Haze. Her every words permeates his conscious mind, pushing thoughts deeply beneath the surface. He believes anything she says, on the DVD or imagined. Anything she would say. Ed’s dick stays hard, even swells a bit. Prostaglandin E, a component in cum, is used commercially for this effect. Ed’s cum makes great lubrication.

When the dick cums on Jenna’s face in Trained Teens 2, Ed’s own dick spurts in slow motion like Peter North in that artsy facial with Nikki Tyler, the one with all the welders. His dick cums and cums and cums and Ed has perfect control over it, keeping the rhythm slowly with his wrist to manage his orgasm from spilling over or slipping away. Ed continues milking his cum 15, maybe 20 pumps. Ed has never read any books on Tantric sex (like everyone, he’s meant to, just hasn’t), but suspects this move comprises at least two pages. He’s at the center of his consciousness, captaining the experience between shallow reefs. It’s a way of cumming he’s determined to master, to add it to his repertoire and get used to like so many other nifty sex tricks.

For instance, throat lozenges for overcoming the gag reflex. No, wait, that’s next week. Ed’s hit with three good ideas in machine-gun like succession. Crazy how good ideas sometimes appear in multiples. Like something specific triggers them.

Ed snaps to and rubs cum all over his face, savoring the cool air on his wet cheeks. He continues jerking off, stays hard and the feeling of cum drying on his face excites again. He’s read that Salon article about cum preventing depression. Millions of years of evolution favor this hypothesis. It does make sense. Evolution favors women addicted to cum with more babies (and accompanying oxytocin) and protection from threats. Ed wonders what seminal nutrients his cheeks and lips absorb now. He smiles, anticipating feeling possible effects soon.

Ed is not gay. Check it out. He’s never been with a guy. There’s nothing wrong with thinking freely. Never be scared of thinking. Everything’s legal in your head.

Ed is completely alone. The bathroom door’s closed. Ed saying he’s gay is perfectly okay. So’s the cool cum on his face. Ed’s safe and by himself. Ed’s cum pulls his skin tightly as it dries. So what that he said he’s gay? So what being gay is an intriguing idea? It’s a superficial realization. Girls arouse Ed much as ever.

Jenna’s still got another few minutes before the clip ends. Ed glances back at his pipe. Dare he take another hit?

Thinking about it, Ed decides to.

He takes the hit, and then dumps the contents of the pipe into the toilet. The pipe goes in his pocket. He puts it away because so long as it’s in his hand, he’ll keep smoking. Ed reclines and exhales just in time to watch sweet, beautiful Jenna Haze take that huge dick up her ass.

Ed imagines how that would feel. He considers nonjudgmentally, trying in fact to imagine liking it like Jenna Haze portrays. She smiles beautifully. She enjoys herself. Ed reaches behind him and massages his asshole. “I love the feeling of dick in my ass,” he says earnestly. “And I love sucking cock.”

Ed imagines both, marinates in the warm afterglow you get for doing something right. Ed associates satisfaction with homosexual behavior, an idea pulled from the hat of Ed’s subconscious, which knows more about classical conditioning than Skinner and Pavlov’s obedient wife put together.

Think about the last time you felt really good. Next time you want to reinforce a certain behavior, like eating broccoli or sucking dick, right after you do it, remember feeling really good. Napping after a turkey dinner. Cumming in your hand. Hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows. Savor it.

You’ll be full of green leafy nutrition with salty semen dressing in no time, a fine, fresh salad for someone who wants to get in shape and look fantastic.

Say that out loud before every orgasm by masturbation this week. Think it when intimate company impedes verbalization. Don’t worry about turning yourself into a semen-addicted slut. You need five weeks for that, at least.

Won’t you be surprised when eight weeks later you’re still saying it?

Ed talks all sorts of shit over the next few minutes, thinks a jumble of images involving male parts, female parts, wrestling, massaging, playing rough, worshipping. He says, “I’m addicted to semen. I suck cock every day. I like big cocks and taking them deep down my throat. I suck my man’s balls and roll my mouth right below the head. I like to kiss men too. Stubble excites me.”

When Ed says this, his subconscious alternates the feelings of pubic stubble from pussy and rough stubble from when his dad used to kiss him as a kid. He imagines sucking on pussy lips while feeling rough stubble like on a man’s face. Ed tastes girl cum in his mouth, like an usually flavored lollipop, feeling sandpaper facial hair against his lips. These sensations become associated and cross-reinforcing.

Your subconscious pursues success. Neat trick, eh?

The more Ed praises sexy things about men – muscular shoulders, mouth-watering cocks, strong hands, the easier it becomes to appreciate new things about men. Before very long, Ed is totally bisexual. His earlier claim of gayness is squeezed in an undertow of arousing thoughts of bi-gender threesomes. Ed wants to eat out Joanna while a guy fills his ass. The more the pressure of impaction alarms him, the more he’ll concentrate on eating pussy. Ed vows to surrender to the rhythm of the assault and conduct the current through Joanna via oral ministration. Autumn arrives in his fantasy too, sucking Ed’s cock as she does so well.

Ed desires both genders equally. His attraction is to the human race, and in broadening his horizons, Ed not only discovers horniness for men; uglier women become more acceptable too. It kind of generalizes into a submissive desire to be oral and accepting to a variety of people previously exempt from Ed’s rage of interest. He closes his eyes and imagines being pressed against several hot, human bodies, unable to recognize gender, only skin and sweat. The longer he imagines it, the easier imagining becomes.

Ed knows out of nowhere that the trick to deepthroating is to swallow as you accept all that cock down your throat. It relaxes your epiglottis muscle so you don’t gag.

How the fuck does Ed suddenly know this? He’s never sucked cock, never read any websites with blowjob tricks and never been informed by a girl. Well, not consciously. It is possible he’s seen girls do it and remembers watching them.

Ed watches porn probably about twenty hours each day, if you count during sleep. Not to mention blowjobs he’s experienced personally.

Ed imagines licking around the head and tasting precum, a tiny drop but enough to encourage him. The taste says you’re doing something right. The taste says don’t stop. The goal of a blowjob is to induce orgasm into your mouth. Ed focuses on desiring to make a man cum in his mouth. The possibility of success entices him. The reassuring taste of precum becomes increasingly addictive each time it’s positively reinforced.

The association starts. Imagining the taste of precum puts the thought in Ed’s mind – an ejaculation of cum down his throat.

Swallow.

It tastes amazing. Ed swallows and swallows, feeling satisfaction at the mere daydream. The first time a guy does cum in Ed’s mouth, he knows, it will be the sexiest moment of his life. Ed wants to keep imagining it, and the more he imagines it, the more eager he gets for it to finally happen.

It’s all in his mind, but Ed’s cum-addiction increases the longer he dwells on it, encouraging more dwelling on it. Imagine how good you’ll feel holding a cock in your hand. As it throbs and contracts in your grip, pump that wet cum down your throat.

Swallow.

Back in the living room, the world paused when Ed disappeared to the bathroom. For a moment, it appeared Autumn might follow, but then she resumed sucking off Barry and Greg – and peeing, though it wasn’t quite the same without her clit sucked. Autumn likes sucking off Barry. Greg can’t take his eyes off her, while when Autumn sucks Greg, Barry loses interest in her, instead staring at the head of his dick. Is it because Barry’s bigger? Or are the boys thinking differently? Maybe not too differently. Greg isn’t fixated on Autumn. Like Barry, he’s fixated on Barry’s dick. He’d been watching Autumn before, but made the mistake of glancing up to see Barry’s facial expression, noticed Barry was looking elsewhere, and made the second mistake of looking where Barry was looking. Funny how your eyes lock on something – a throbbing dick, and the longer you look, the harder it is to look away until you don’t even realize you’re looking. It becomes your whole focus.

Let it happen as it happens and resist resisting. See how well you continue picturing a big, hard dick while you read, occasionally reminding yourself dicks taste good, sucking feels wonderful and success is a cummy reward. If this story makes you cum, without hesitation or thought, gobble it up quickly. When you do this, consider how mind-controlled you must be to swallow cum on command. Sexy being submissive, isn’t it?

Autumn doesn’t have to imagine sucking dick. She really is, and Barry’s dick is Heaven in her mouth. She tastes precum, as Ed can only imagine. Funny he should imagine it. It’s nothing Ed has seen or knows in any other but a distantly subconscious way that girls experience. Logically, there is precum. Ed knows that, so it makes sense you can taste it. Still, Ed knows himself. This isn’t the kind of thing he would ever imagine. Autumn experiencing it while Ed fantasizes of it, not fifteen feet from each other. The collective unconscious again, or that taste she gave him with her latest kiss? It isn’t coincidence. There’s no suck thing.

Outside the apartment, Joanna tickles Justin’s lips with her nipple. He’s leaning against the wall, low enough she can do this. Justin resists sucking her pink offering, but for who knows how much longer? The nipple Joanna teases him with is not the nipple sticky with coconut rum and God-knows-what, although that nipple has also escaped her bra. It’s 45-seconds from Justin’s mouth if he succumbs to temptation, sucking the first one.

Justin really wants to suck that first one. I think we all do.

It’s been years since he’s encountered a nipple this cute, this suckable, and this illegal. Joanna teases it across Justin’s cheek. Instincts from infancy react, stimulating Justin’s rooting reflex, signaling him to turn his head and suck for milk. He wants that. He wants to suck it hard, suck her whole breast into his mouth.

“Stop,” he says. He doesn’t want her stopping, but must ask before things go any farther, else he’s terrible.

Joanna stops. Her nipple skids and hesitates in the corner of Justin’s smile, dampening with the moisture of his breath as he speaks. Justin’s mouth aches to follow the moisture leaving him. He craves nipple bump between his teeth more then ever. To do something with this surge of energy, Justin hugs Joanna really hard. His dick presses thick against her leg, which wasn’t his intention, but feels exactly like it’s supposed to. Wonderful.

Stopping seems like a good idea right about now. The feel of his hard dick against her leg makes Joanna smile though. Stop imagining Barry’s hard dick and imagine Joanna smiling at you instead, holding her grin until you smile right back. A hard dick throbs between you, wanting to be tucked someplace safe and out of the way. Smile really big when Joanna smiles at you.

Smile big enough she’ll suck your dick.

Joanna slides down the wall, hoping to suck Justin’s dick. She catches his belt and the front of his pants, and her fingers are as nimble as an eight year old carpet weaver. Justin has plenty of time to stop her, but only watches.

Watch the pretty girl. Watch the pretty girl. Watch her open mouth wide taking a fair length of thick, purple dick down her throat. Justin just keeps watching. Head captivates guys in trance. Ask any guy or don’t take his word for it. Test for yourself. While you’re sucking dick, you occupy complete importance. Justin forgets all about ethics, pulling his fingers through her hair and groaning like an ape.

Joanna can take over half of the huge thing down her gullet. Justin fights the urge to thrust his whole length down her throat. It’s a desire in us from when we were animals, before men learned to care for their young. Justin wants to protect Joanna (he’s a cop and coming right down to it, a pretty nice guy), so drives down his Id. He tells Joanna, “You are so beautiful. I thought you were beautiful before this, but now I see how really, truly beautiful you are.”

Joanna slurps away. Her deepthroating skill improves exponentially each attempt. Joanna is nothing if not perseverant.

The far recesses of Justin’s mind wonder what her story is. Is it premature to beg her to move in with him? She won’t even have to work. Only two years on the force, Justin doesn’t make much, but his salary can support them both, maybe even help pay for her community college. Justin stares down at Joanna slurping around his cock head, a sloppy magnitude of saliva, but God, does it feel incredible! Justin burns with immense desire to do something for Joanna, anything to please her. Justin plays with Joanna’s hair, watching her with upturned eyebrows. He’s one helpless, happy man.

As for the others inside, forget about them. Justin forgets his job too, the way a person forgets their middle name or their second grade teacher when they’re not actively thinking about them. It’s retrievable, if necessary, though certainly not commanding one’s attention. Justin ceases being a cop and becomes simply another blessed guy getting his cock sucked. Do you realize how many people are simultaneously sucking cock or getting their cocks sucked this very minute? Get involved. A better world follows their example. Hear that everyone? Blowjobs taste great. Create Utopia.

Justin isn’t thinking about the others inside, but as it happens, Autumn thinks about him. Moreover, she considers her star-crossed lover, Danny. Is Danny possibly outside with him?

We’re meant to be together.

Can you imagine how relieved it must feel to resolve that troublesome question?

We’re meant to be together.

Life would be so much sweeter to know this positively.

Autumn wants Danny. Immediately, she feels in a hurry to chase down her future. Unite with Danny and buy pink, latex outfits. Kneepads. Leash and collar. Pacifier. Make-up. Be Danny’s sexy whore.

She stops sucking Barry’s dick. Autumn loses interest in Barry and Greg altogether. Absent-mindedly, she stands and saunters toward the front door. Her perky ass wiggles walking like it wants a good hard fucking. Barry and Greg watch her go. That ass seems to grin.

Autumn pauses, glancing over her shoulder. Seeing a game gone old, she faces forward again. She turns the knob. She opens that door.

Greg watches Autumn step through, and then returns his eyes to previous position, crouches low and resumes Autumn’s abandoned post. He’s learned by watching. Anyone can see that. Autumn is more practiced and confident, but Greg imitates her style. Autumn is so brilliant sucking cock everyone wants her talent, as if mastering fellatio makes Autumn perfect. Joanna wants to be like Autumn. Ed and Greg too. Greg sucks Barry’s dick like a boy who wants to be just like Autumn and is rewarded with Barry’s burst of cum in his mouth, which Greg promptly spits out, disgusted.

Autumn steps out and sees Joanna sucking the cop’s dick. She doesn’t waste a second look, instead moving forward up the sidewalk. If Danny is anywhere nearby, Autumn figures it’s probably locked in the back of the police car. She heads out to the parking lot. Autumn remains undressed.

Justin’s partner is in the car, but currently focused on the elaborate positioning of lunch items on his lap. On one knee, Dave balances a Styrofoam cup of steaming coffee. On the other, a cup of soy sauce and wasabi. On his lap, a clear plastic box filled with enough sushi for four men. The flipside holds his trash so far – eleven torn packets of sugar, four empty cream cartons and a crumpled napkin from spilling soy sauce on his uniform. Don’t worry. It blends in.

Like I said, Justin’s partner’s name is Dave. Dave’s decent enough, if a bit pussy-whipped by his fiancée, a woman prone to harvesting Dave’s emotions to feed her ego. She weakens him every opportunity. It’s pretty fucked up and brings out parts of his personality which might otherwise be completely repressible. For instance, Dave sometimes wants to hit her—something he would never do.

She tells him he’s fat, and then tempts him with starchy food and television. She says he’s mentally inferior to her, which Dave verbally refutes and secretly fears. Friends tell Dave he should run far away from her. She flirts with them, which Dave has noticed.

Dave is convinced they just want Molly for themselves.

They don’t, but love makes Dave jealous and guarded. As a result, friends don’t see him quite as often. When they do, Dave acts friendly and pleased. That’s another bad trait his fiancé fertilizes. Dave’s become a two-faced little bitch. It’s a shame. They all really used to like him.

Dave’s entranced by his lunch and daydreams of Molly cheating while he’s on duty, risking his mortal life to protect Coral Springs. He drowns the JB Roll in soy sauce, fantasizing it’s some punk he’s caught Molly with pushed face first into a toilet bowl. Dave often imagines violence. That’s another bad trait Molly arouses in him. Dave daydreams being violent to defend his masculinity.

He completely misses Autumn walking naked across the parking lot. He’s too busy thinking how he can’t break up with Molly. He’ll never find another girl to fuck him. Autumn sees from far away there’s no one in the back seat. She thinks, last time she saw, Danny was with Tommy.

Go to Tommy’s.

Upon which Autumn realizes she’s butt naked. Her whole body blushes and she runs back toward Ed’s apartment fast as she can, covering her breasts. Only a couple people see and only one’s a guy and his wife’s with him, so he can’t even get caught noticing. “Nice clouds out today,” he says. “Florida’s got the most beautiful clouds in the whole damned country. They should call it the Nice Cloud State instead of the Sunshine State. Everyone knows South Dakota is the Sunshine State.”

No lesbians or bisexuals see Autumn streak across the parking lot, even Joanna, who only hears Ed’s apartment door slam shut. Justin jumps at that sound and comes to his senses.

Something is going on here. He calls Dave on the radio, pulling up his pants with his other hand. It’s Joanna’s turn to watch mesmerized. Something is about to happen.

“Keep this between us,” Justin tells Joanna. “Hopefully, we’ll continue this later.”

Joanna nods back at him, in a state of complete agreement.

Autumn stops in her tracks when she sees Greg sucking Barry’s cock. Whether cum freaks him out or not, giving his best friend a blowjob feels right. Greg’s servicing him, and Autumn isn’t sure what to make of it. Like a lot of girls, seeing men together looks unnatural. Women aren’t like men. Seeing two men together doesn’t consistently excite them like men enjoy bisexual women. Some women have a strong fetish for bisexual men, typically sexually adventurous ladies. A lot of girls though aren’t sure how to take it. Autumn fits into this latter group, though it is increasingly interesting to watch Greg swallow cock the more Autumn watches.

Ed comes out. He’s glad as hell to see Autumn. Ed grins like a fool. The grin only widens when he sees Greg’s head in Barry’s lap. Ed watches Autumn, wondering what she’s thinking, even as Ed considers his own reaction.

Ed really hates Greg’s dick. The mild disaffection he felt earlier polarizes into outright distaste. In contrast, Barry’s dick is more appealing, though currently prefers Greg. Ed realizes that without even trying.

Greg has to stop sometime, Ed thinks, to eat or use the restroom, and when he does…

Dave spills food and coffee all over himself hopping out of the car. He looks up at the sky and groans. Why doesn’t God just strike him dead and get it over with? He hurries to Ed’s apartment to be Justin’s back-up, but goes to the wrong apartment.

So much for Dave.

Autumn and Ed are fucking when Justin and Joanna open the door. Barry is massaging Greg’s head and saying, “Oh, Jesus, Greg, you really are my best friend.” It is obvious right away that this is not normal teenage behavior, not with a cop present. A shame, as far as Justin is concerned. For a beat with more orgies, he’d willingly settle for less pay. Fat fucking chance that will happen. The orgies, not the less pay. He’s already being paid less thanks to Republican budget cuts.

Joanna follows Justin in, locking the front door behind them. She is feeling sharper, thinking competently, though can’t help suspecting she’s following orders from a higher power. No dumb little bitch like her could think so cleverly. Joanna’s a mindless bimbo. Thus, any intelligent behavior must not be her doing. She is receiving these epiphanies telepathically then, responding to someone’s psychic direction. It reassures her someone’s in control. Joanna can relax and just do whatever first thing pops into her mind, without accountability.

It turns her on knowing she can be made to do anything. Joanna considers acts she might be made to do, yet to load these daydreams with credibility, she needs to know who’s responsible for her decisions. It determines who and what she’ll suck.

Who benefits from stalling Justin outside? Who gains from locking Dave out?

Ed drugged and brainwashed us all. Barry manufactured the drug. Autumn wants fantasies fulfilled. Justin does too. Ed does too. Barry does too. Greg does too.

Joanna does too.

Everyone has fantasies, Joanna realizes, which everyone wants fulfilled.

The combined spiritual essence of all life – Brahman, the collective unconsciousness, God, whatever name you prefer to call it – that’s what locked the door, controlled Justin outside, led Dave to apartment 2.

The fulfillment of fantasies is a desire the totality conspires to achieve – by inspiring ideas, reinforcing our acceptance and offering chances.

Joanna’s higher power directs her to Ed’s bedroom. She pushes past Justin and runs to it, doing her best to imitate a girl hoping to hide something the police must never discover. Justin runs after her. The orgy in the living room continues uninterrupted.

“No one can see us here,” Joanna tells him, once they’re alone together in Ed’s bedroom. “Better than outside.”

Joanna undresses as she speaks. Justin watches, planning to stop her any time now.

“My partner…”

“Dave…” Joanna remembers his name tag.

“…will be here any minute.”

By now, Joanna’s completely naked. Her pussy and ass are adolescent, with no trace of cellulite or blemished skin. You can’t not want to touch her. Taste her. Enter her.

Just for a moment, Justin decides, stepping closer. She meets him half way. Justin’s big hands squeeze Joanna’s ass.

Does he have time to fuck her if he’s quick?

Justin doesn’t know Dave is lost, so thinks Dave is seconds from arrival. Yet, his guts tell him Dave may take longer. Long enough.

Justin’s cock emerges from his pants hard. He turns her toward the wall and enters Joanna from behind. It’s like remembering a favorite childhood friend. Joanna resembles girls from Christmases past. Justin enters her slippery pussy – feels it squeezing the head and base of his dick, as with different muscles. He holds her hips in his hands and can’t believe how thin her waist is, not a trace of anything which shouldn’t be there. Joanna’s missing eight years of junk food and television standard in most girls Justin dates. If Joanna becomes health conscious now, Justin wonders, can she keep her perfect figure forever? Joanna cries out opportunity and Justin takes it, stuffing her tight pussy full of him, seeming to fill a purpose for her, trying like a trooper to hold back filling her womb with semen too quickly. The problem with fucking Joanna is once you start, you want it to continue forever.

Dave’s face kind of looks like Jim Carey’s. Dave’s younger and looks more like a jock, broad shoulders and a thick skull. His eyes, nose and smile resemble Jim’s enough that people seeing him for the first time can’t help being drawn to him. He’s never mistaken for Jim Carey, but the semblance does attract attention. Dave even has certain Jim Carey expressions, naturally, not by imitation. Dave doesn’t think they look anything alike. When people stare, he wonders if he has a booger or food in his teeth.

People are staring now, through a cracked open door.

One guy looks familiar, but Dave’s never seen the others. Where are the kids who were here earlier? Who are these new people? Dave thinks the familiar guy is Ed. Dave isn’t the only one who looks like somebody.

“Where did the others go?”

“Um,” the guy who looks like Ed says.

“We’ve heard some disturbing reports of drugs and mind control in this apartment. It’s important that I ask you and your friends some questions, including where that bottle of Cabana Boy Coconut Rum is. You’re going to cooperate, else be in a whole heap of trouble.”

“You can’t just come in here,” the tenant of apartment 2 says. “I know my rights under the fourth amendment. You need a warrant and a damn good reason to enter.”

“Obviously, you haven’t read the Patriot Act,” Dave growls, his hand lowering to the butt of his pistol. “It suspends the United States Constitution indefinitely.”

Dave barges in. He immediately spots the bong on the kitchen table, notices the Cypress Hill, Phish and Grateful Dead posters on the wall and smells pot smoke, coming from the back bedroom.

“Get out,” the guy shouts. “This is an unlawful search. I’m calling my brother-in-law. He’s a lawyer.” The guy reaches for the phone and Dave sprays him in the face with pepper spray. The woman screams.

“Under the U.S. Patriot Act, you do not have the right to an attorney. We can also hold you indefinitely without ever charging you with an offense. Illegal drugs support terrorists, therefore you are a terrorist.”

“Dude,” the guy who does not look like Ed says, “Gas-guzzling SUVs support terrorists. Weed only supports college students.”

Dave squirts a jet of pepper spray into that guy’s face too. He screams in agony, “It burns, it burns, it—” And then can’t scream. The pepper spray constricts his throat. He can barely breathe.

“You’ll tell me what I want to know, won’t you?” Dave asks the woman. She’s crying, hardly believing this is happening.

“We’re not hurting anybody,” she sobs. “We’re inside—in private.”

Dave sprays her too. Forget anything nice I said about Dave. He’s a fucking asshole.

Justin’s not an asshole, but the tip of his thumb is pressed against Joanna’s. I can’t tell you how much he loves her ass. He could spend hours eating that ass – savoring her entirety. Girls were never this hot when he was in high school. It must be hormones in the milk.

“A girl like you needs a guy like me, who can watch out for you,” Justin tells her, and she believes. “I know how to make you happy.” Joanna believes this too. She understands meeting Justin this afternoon is destiny directing her future. Joanna needs a guy like Justin, a guy who knows how to make her happy. Was she ever happy before? Joanna thinks not.

“You’re making me happy now,” she tells him.

“My being inside you makes you happy,” Justin whispers in her ear. He sucks it too.

“It makes me happy when you’re inside me.”

“Good,” Justin says. “We can do this often. I’m going to make you the happiest girl on the planet.”

Joanna’s smiling already, happier with each measured thrust.

It’s a shame Justin can’t see her face. Smiling girls are very sexy.

At once, Joanna turns her head and kisses Justin. It’s a strain on both their necks, kissing doggy-style, but the intimacy of mouth-to-mouth contact excites them both. Justin cums, whimpering and supporting himself against her shoulders to keep from falling. After Justin cums, he continues to shiver and with each shiver, leaks cum into Joanna’s glorious pussy. Justin whispers, “That’s the best feeling in the whole world.” He means it one way, but Joanna takes it another. This is likely to work to Justin’s long-term benefit. Joanna realizes Justin filling her pussy with cum is the best feeling in the world. It makes her a super happy girl.

Justin did mean what he said. Cumming inside Joanna is the best feeling in the world, except he meant for him.

In the living room, it takes Barry longer to cum again, but cum he does, and if cum is an acquired taste, Greg’s taste buds acquire. When Barry cums again, Greg virtually gargles swallowing every satisfying drop. He never stops sucking Barry’s dick. Constant attention keeps it rock hard.

Nearby, Ed’s coaxes himself closer and closer to orgasm muttering to Autumn, “I want to be just like you. I want to dress the same, suck cock with you, make love to you, worship you, do anything you ask, suck your toes, be your partner, servant, and pimp. I want to…” And more on this theme.

This drivel etches into both their minds, reality easily imagined.

“Danny’s my soulmate,” Autumn says, “but you can play too. You know, like be our pet.”

It’s while screaming over and over, “I’m yours and Danny’s pet” that Ed explodes in a flickering rapture of pleasure (squirt) and exhaustion (pause between squirts), clinging to Autumn, loving the squishy closeness of her, wanting it to last forever, which of course, it doesn’t.

Justin and Joanna return to the living room and under Justin’s direction, everyone gets dressed. “Tell the truth,” Justin says. “What was in the rum?”

“Good idea powder,” Ed says. “It makes everything a good idea.”

What’s in it? How long does it last? Who had some? Is any left? All these questions get asked, and more, and are answered. What’s the recipe?

“Okay,” Justin says. “Girls, go into the bedroom. Guys, stay here.” Justin disappears into Ed’s bedroom, only for a few minutes. He returns to the living room alone. “The girls are to be left alone in there. You guys stay here and occupy yourselves. I get off work in a few hours and I’m coming back here to take the girls. Go ahead and forget all about them. As far as I’m concerned, you’re not in any trouble, so long as you stay away from the girls and especially, don’t talk to them.”

After all, Justin thinks, the drug isn’t even illegal.

He leaves the apartment, calling Dave on his radio. Dave tells him about his pot bust in the other apartment. Justin meets him there and is horrified to see five people holding their eyes and gasping for breath on the floor, one on the bathroom with his pants around his knees. Dave’s found less than an eighth of pot, a pretty small amount, actually. Yet, if the suspects are released, Dave will probably be charged with police brutality, especially with all the hype over the behavior of the Miami police at the recent FTAA protests. Justin supposes they can’t let everyone go free.

As things turn out, Dave isn’t satisfied with one bust. He wants to check Ed’s apartment for himself. Justin tries to talk him out of it, “But Dave, I was just there. There is absolutely no criminal activity taking place.” Now there isn’t, Justin thinks. His dick itches as he says this, still wet from Joanna’s pussy.

“No offense, young trooper,” Dave says snidely, “but you haven’t been on the force as long as me. You might have overlooked crucial details. I should check it out.”

“You can’t,” Justin says. “They all went to the movies. I caught them as they were leaving.”

“We’ll search the apartment while they’re gone,” Dave says. “You know, U.S. Patriot Act Sneak & Peek provisions allow it now.”

This is the last thing Justin needs. All Dave has to do is tell the kids to tell him everything. They’ll think it’s a good idea and Dave will find out about his tryst with Joanna, and plans for Autumn.

Out of nowhere, Justin wonders, what would Jesus do? Better yet, what would Jack from the television series 24 do?

He could claim Molly’s been sleeping around, which Justin and the rest of the police force know to be true (indecent exposure charge – fucking under a restaurant table). Everyone decided it was better not to tell Dave. The messenger would be on Dave’s shit list permanently. He’d probably refuse to believe it anyway. Dave certainly wouldn’t break up with her over it.

Justin doesn’t tell Dave about Molly. He’s still thinking of some alternate way to divert him as Dave knocks on Ed’s door. Ed answers. All the boys are naked. Barry and Greg are making out and jerking each other off. “Can I help you?” Ed asks.

Dave didn’t expect this. “Um… uh…”

“We’re sorry to bother you again,” Justin says. “Say, weren’t you guys going to the movies? Lord of the Rings?”

“Lord of the Rings,” Ed says, thinking how cool it’d be to go catch a movie.

“Catch the next showing,” Dave says, acting tough. He steps inside the apartment. Oral sex and sodomy are still illegal in Florida, no matter what the courts have decided elsewhere. Yet, jerking off other men is legal tender. Dave suspects these guys perform the criminal acts too, however. He automatically categorizes them as criminals. Ed too. He’s here, isn’t he? He’s part of this.

“I see you’re all a bunch of faggots,” Dave says. “I imagine you’ll enjoy prison then. In prison, you’ll get butt-fucked every time you drop the soap.”

You can imagine how this statement affects the guys.

“Don’t call them faggots,” Justin says. “I’d apologize for that, Dave. You know, with all that FTAA publicity circulating lately.”

“They are faggots,” Dave laughs. Then, to them, “If you confess now, maybe I’ll be lenient.”

“We are faggots.” Barry says. Greg and Ed nod.

Dave laughs. “I don’t mean that. I mean the drugged rum.”

“I drugged it,” Ed admits.

“I made the drug,” Barry boasts.

Dave looks at Justin like he’s an idiot. How could he have interrogated these kids for twenty minutes and discovered nothing? These guys clearly want to go to jail.

Dave experiences a sudden snap of intuition. If he smells their breath – any of them, he’ll smell coconut. Does that include Justin? Dave wonders, is that why he thought the kids were innocent?

“Who else is here?” Dave asks. “Where’s the bottle?”

“The girls are in the bedroom. The bottle’s right here.” Ed hands Dave the bottle.

“You wait here with these boys, Justin,” Dave tells him. “I’m going to see what’s going on in the bedroom.”

Justin is shamed already. He doesn’t dare refute him and as Dave moves toward the bedroom, Justin’s guts fill with dread.

The room is dark. Dave’s eyes take a moment to adjust.

“Close the door,” a female voice tells him, which Dave does.

When Dave can see, he sees two girls. One straddles her partner’s face.

“Play with my tits,” the girl on top begs Dave. “Please, I’m sooo close!”

Dave approaches the girls and seizing an opportunity, caresses Joanna’s tits, gently cupping them in his hands and fondling her nipples between his thumbs and index fingers.

Joanna moans. “Please,” she whispers. “Suck them.”

Dave smiles a Jim Carey smile. He can’t believe his luck. He leans forward and takes an erect nipple into his mouth, tasting the worst taste ever. His gag reflex kicks into gear, but Dave manages to suppress it. The urge to retch affects Dave’s balance. His stomach quivers.

“Keep sucking,” the girl tells him. “It tastes like yummy orange bubblegum.”

Dave does, savoring the flavor.

Epilogue

Dad holds the door for Mom, and then hands it off to Joanna’s brother, Billy, who takes it, never glancing up from playing Gameboy. He crashes into his mother, who stops short to avoid crashing into Dad.

“She’s here,” Dad says softly.

Mom asks, “Should we go somewhere else?”

“I should try talking to her again,” Dad says.

“Why bother?” Mom asks. “She’ll just tell you she has no family like every other time.”

“She’s my daughter,” Dad says. “I can’t just quit on her.”

“Look how she’s dressed.”

Joanna’s pink latex is so tight and sheer, you see every bump on her areolas. A blind man might think it’s Braille. Not that her top even completely covers her areolas. The tops and bottoms shift free when she moves like slivers of moon. There’s no clothing again until the waist of her skirt, unless you count the belly button ring. Joanna might as well be topless.

Her skirt isn’t modest either. Nine inches from the waist, it covers her pussy, but stops there. It’s also pink latex, thin and stretchy. She also wears pink knee pads, pink heels, a pink collar, pink lipstick and eye shadow. Her nails are long and pink, and she has a pink ribbon in her hair.

Joanna sucks a combination dildo/ pacifier—pink.

“Seeing her like this makes me physically ill,” Mom says.

“It’s his fault,” Dad says, meaning Ed, who sits nearby wearing an identical outfit, lipstick included. “If you ask me, he didn’t spend enough time in jail. They should have locked him up forever.”

“I heard prison’s what fucked him up so badly,” Billy says.

“The whole group of them is fucked up so badly,” Mom says.

The group she describes share the table. You have Autumn (dressed similarly), Barry, Greg, Danny and Molly. Molly’s adorned in white latex. Dave’s idea, the day he dumped her cheating ass. Barry and Greg are all over each other, kissing, holding hands, smiling at each other, whispering inside jokes and pet names. Ed defers to Danny and Autumn.

“Let’s go somewhere else,” Mom says. “Bob, you know your blood pressure. No heart attacks today, okay?”

As the family leaves the restaurant, Joanna glances up. She senses they were watching her, and indeed, they do look familiar. Joanna can’t for her life recall if they’ve met though.

The bell on the door rings again, meaning another hungry customer enters. Joanna glances up again, wondering if those familiar people are back.

No, even better – it’s Justin. Joanna squeals with delight seeing Justin.

Now that he’s near, Joanna can’t help smiling and feeling happy.

It’s contagious.

Go forth, be happy.

I give you permission.