The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The tall, blue-eyed blonde male looked up at the sky, knowing who he was and from where he had come.

Let those who have spirit feel, he thought, while curiously studying his immediate surroundings, lest all of our knowledge that protects comes in vain another time.

Yet this time will be the last, for our deeds will take root in all feeling wombs for spirits to live in my father’s house. And this time our truths will be felt in a straightforward manner, devoid of inconsistencies. Time is short. This time my father’s teachings for you will not need to be altered or omitted to conform to your chosen destiny. All have the time, but not to waste.

He felt strangely angry about being there. Anger, however, did not belong to him. It did not feel right.

The human spirit, he thought, as the people within his sight captured his curious interest-its gradual evolution over many lifetimes and its immortality and final merger with the Creation of Nature is everything and all; simply needed to be known and recognised for that which it was. As always, our words and truths had been, would be, and were still being distorted and misinterpreted.

He gazed idly at the men and women before him, rushing here and there, all seemingly intent on some great task or destination. He wondered how often they met with the feeling males and the females beneath the suits of thinking men and women that each wore daily throughout their lives. He compared the many different shapes and sizes of the female forms that walked quickly by him or around him or across his line of vision and he stirred, knowing why.

But he knew that Nature was always perfect, anytime, anyplace, and anyhow.

Natural females are the spiritual health food of the world nation, he concluded-any nation.

He also knew that Nature hated a vacuum, natural or unnatural, and it would do its best to fill that vacuum in the fullness of its own time, no matter what.

In his mind, he then looked back, clearly seeing as it happened and as it was, and as always, as it would be, and it saddened and angered him both at the same time.

Nature hates a vacuum, he reminded himself-and will see to my natural learning and the filling of that vacuum in me before much longer. Of that, he had no doubt whatsoever.

Then he noticed the arrival of a different group of men and women among the people passing before him. They were dressed slightly differently, and, upon looking closely at them, he knew they indeed were different to those with which they quickly began to mix. Nature hated a vacuum, for long.

They were from another place far away in the worlds of seven. They looked the same, but they were different. He could see that clearly now and he knew. He also knew that like he, they, too, had been coming for a long time, thousands of years and more, to mix with and among as they were now doing once again for the last time before there was no more, for guidance, to monitor and to influence.

But their reasons were different to his. Highly advanced souls were they, like he, and to loan one again from a caring star they had come again, as they had done many times before, and would again one more time now before the last hour was gone and too late to matter or remember.

Enoch had been the first on loan. He recalled that from somewhere in the recesses of an earlier mind within his own-but Enoch had not been the last. Now the time was approaching when yet one more lifetime of another loaned soul should occur for the purpose of teaching humanity the true spiritual truths. His procreator would see to it that he received the education in his youth, which would again involve lost years in the eyes of others, but not in his own.

They realised his teachings would be distorted, but felt that learning could still take place within the time remaining. Mistakes and learning were the way of Creation, and, the way of Nature. He knew that they were never far away while they kept a continued interest over the passing ages, simply because they cared, and they could, just as he did and would.

A woman with three small children, two walking and in one a carriage passed him by. She smiled at him as she passed, as did one of the children, a young girl. Then they were gone. He wondered where her man was, where her male was, her other half, the other half of her humankind nature’s natural whole.

There was something wrong with that picture and there always would be, he thought-as long as the imbalance was chosen to be there and to be kept there. Feeling males and females were being and had always been betrayed by thinking men and women. His mind spoke to him of looking back, while he looked around the ever moment of now and the people sharing it with him without knowing it.

The person who betrayed me was not who was said, he recalled-and not the treasurer. Distortion and misinterpretation, as it always was and would be, in spite of the century and those who searched for spiritual truth and taught it within their lifetimes still runs rife to this day.

But you must survive, in spite of your false books and your false doctrines and your lies that you tell the people, as I did before, for three days and nights. You hypocrites and liars, he recalled-several times my own saw me, as I said they would. Only then, did I leave to go before calling my mother and my brother and my female to my side in a far away place, before once again moving on to live my life as I chose in many places that still remember my passing.

‘Everything okay, mister?’

A shining uniform of the day, of the century, of the times, but without the spiritual wisdom to go with it, a nice smile, tainted with slight curiosity and suspicion, but a nice smile, nevertheless was suddenly beside him.

‘People-watching,’ he said in answer to the unasked question of the shining man only inches shorter than he was. ‘Research for a book on just how different, but the same we all are as men and women and as males and females.’

The shining man looked down at his pad and pencil that simply came to be with the thought of them. His eyes widened and relaxed. Then he smiled again, sincerely.

‘Good luck,’ the shining man grinned. ‘Somebody’s got to tell us where we’re going wrong.’

Then he laughed and turned away, strolling casually down the road or the street or the path, looking from left to right and ahead of where he was walking. He waved to the back of the shining man with a nod of agreement.

We have come this time not to talk or to tell, he thought-this time we have come to survive, while there is still time. Many will come with me, but many will not.

A couple walked by, hand in hand, laughing and smiling; knowing each other for who they really were-nature doing its perfect work.

You are not equal in each other’s eyes or in his, he thought-nor do you wish to be, for you are perfect, according to your own gender Creation, to Nature’s parents.

They smiled genuinely at another human being that was leaning against the post and held a notepad and pencil, watching everybody who passed him by.

He looked back at them with warmth and humanness. The female held his eyes as she drew level, just briefly longer than the male. The male with her noticed this and his smile faded.

Then they passed and were gone. He wished them well in their travels together, hoping they would always remain as male and female, but knowing the male was already on his way to becoming a thinking man. With a bit of luck, the female would keep him honest and save him from a fate worse than death, he hoped-spiritual aloneness. But the female would never be alone, if not with that male, then with another, as was her destiny as a natural female.

He turned his attention back to the crossing and passing crowd. Then he turned back to watch the ever-changing exciting moment of now. He looked back once more to a time of then, to a time past and to come, and to a time that was happening now as he leaned casually against the post with his notepad in hand and watched the people pass him by.

Time and distance is no barrier, he thought.

The notepad felt comfortable in his hand. Its pages were blank, but full unwritten of what was yet to be. With the small pencil he made a mark, just to see if it worked and he smiled. It did. He could make all the notes he wanted, if he chose to do so of his spirits own free will.

He who travelled widely with me told accurately of me, he recalled, thinking back with an earlier mind of his own. In the land of the elephants, did the final, many pages full pass beneath his pencil, and many years after I was supposed not to be. My mother and brother and female bore witness to those words of truth, but I did not, for I said them and knew they were true for you. They needed not your mis-translation of deliberate and ignorant mistakes, but you did not listen then.

He looked left and right, and then looked both ways and back again.

‘This time,’ he whispered quietly under his breath, ‘we have not come for you to listen; we have come for you to feel.’

He glanced down at his feet and the earth upon which he stood.

Dust to dust, ashes to ashes, he thought-but we are still here and were never gone from you in our heartened spirit that lives alongside yours, in knowing that which you yet still do not want to know.

Then he remembered his legacy being buried by his eldest son to be guarded by Nature and others for two thousand years until then.

Long did we live and prosper much in spirit among you, and without your knowing, he recalled-for always is the time for my spirit to learn and to grow, as your own soon must before it is too late. But into inept hands did our legacy fall, which did not tell of the truths we said. This time, those truths you will feel before you hear us speak them, of which we never will; for you no longer have the time for parables that are beyond your ken, and were ever meant only for the sincere of heart and mind.

‘Hi!’ The young man suddenly said brightly beside him.

He turned and smiled down at the still-growing youth.

‘Are you someone famous?’ The youth grinned friendly up at him. ‘You look familiar. Do you have an autographed picture I could have?’

He glanced down at the exuberant lad and glanced down at the notepad and pencil in his hand.

‘Will a quick sketch do?’ He asked the lad.

‘Great!’ The youth beamed brightly. ‘And can you autograph it, too?’

He quickly began sketching and was soon finished. Then he signed it and handed it to the beaming youth that immediately took it in both hands and stared down at it with a puzzled expression upon his brow.

‘Thanks!’ He said gratefully. Then asked, ‘Is this a ‘J’ or an ‘I’? And is it two ‘m’s’?’

‘It’s a, J,’ the youth was told, ‘and with two m’s,’ he added.

‘Wow, thanks!’ The lad beamed excitedly. ‘Are any of your films showing at the moment?’

‘The last scene is being acted out as we speak,’ he told the excited boy.

‘Oh, wow!’ Exclaimed the lad, looking quickly all around where they both stood. ‘When is it coming out?’

His eyes shone glistened, naturally and without prompting.

‘Soon,’ he said gently. ‘You’ll be there. Wait and see, and be ready.’

‘Wow, thanks!’ The lad beamed. ‘I will!’ Then he headed quickly off down the road.

He turned back to watching the multitudes as they rushed to and fro in their seemingly endless rocking chair actions, where the faster they rocked, the faster they went nowhere at all toward where they had originally chosen to go. His almond-shaped blue eyes saddened a little and then glistened.

A young woman then approached his direction, no more than twenty-two years old, he guessed. She looked him up and down as she drew level with where he leaned against the post, smiling warmly at her. She glanced down at his pad, then lowered her eyes and walked on past-dislike, distrust and suspicion written all over her face.

Another young female of the same age approached him from the same direction, as had the first. She was darker of skin than white-slightly red, but not dusky. She had long, plaited hair in two long black streams.

Again, his eyes welcomed her past, while her gaze held his direct male look unashamedly all the way, and did not falter in its honest and natural intent. His own smile widened and returned the natural male in him in introduction to the female in her that warmed his spirit as she passed and then went on her way.

Smiling, he turned back to watch the people in front of him once again, then suddenly turned back to gaze at the natural shape of she who had just warmed his spirit in passing.

His groin stirred happily and lazily and he wondered curiously whether or not she was shaven between the legs. Then his point of focus riveted squarely upon the firm, rounded shape of her jiggling buttocks and their dark secret mysteries held tightly beneath the knee-length blue skirt cocoon on her body.

‘Yes,’ he whispered softly to the natural native female of her as she walked unknowingly onward and toward her unplanned future, ‘in this north of your native country have we walked upon the earth with your ancestors, for we had much to teach them and much to learn from them. By my father’s wings did we arrive and leave from their midst before we parted as friends and as brothers.’

‘But we were different and they noticed, he recalled with a soft smile-for we had hair on our cheeks, which they did not grow and were puzzled and wanted to touch. They remembered us that way in their caves for all time and all peoples who cared to look, but many did not. The Hopi know, he recalled-and because they know, they cannot unknow.’

A priest then crossed ahead of where he stood leaning against the post with notepad and pencil in hand. Crossing from left to right before him, the tall fat priest’s head was bowed as he strode confidently onward toward his destination. By his left and right sides, two nuns hurried to keep pace with his fast gait. One held her hand on her headwear against the relative airflow of her own and the priest’s rapid forward speed.

His unnatural and unwanted anger slowly returned.

Spirituality means the humankind trinity, he thought, as if speaking to the priest in person-not structured religion with false doctrines, but one’s own spirit, a real entity. We never referred to religions of structured order, but you tried me as a heretic for the truth of our individual humankind spirit. Then you altered our teachings and made of me a martyr, from whom I could not possibly have descended to create your false doctrines that give you power over the people to this very day.

His head moved in time, following the tall priest and the two rushing nuns as they passed across his field of vision. His gaze focussed and narrowed as he tried to imagine the type of undergarments worn by the two black and white penguins that raced to keep up with the taller black and white seal.

Then his unwanted anger faded slightly, replaced by a more natural and more beneficial sensation that simmered between his legs and in all sincerity.

From my father of forty days and nights was I willing to learn for you, he mouthed silently in thought to the backs of the three-then did I then return, armed with that which I already knew and I had even learned more for you to stay in the house of my father forever. Of spiritual knowledge and the natural power of Creation you could have known all, he thought-yet you settled for rumour, hearsay and lies.

The lesser acolytes in the land of the tiger have more firsthand knowledge of spirit and spiritual power than the combined empty mustard seed of your collective religious consciousness.

And of the natural healings you called miracles, which were not, you could have shared with the people you enslave to this very day when our teachings about the humankind spirit accompanied such healings and were witnessed by four chosen, including two sons.

The priest and his two rapidly waddling penguins soon faded from his view. As they did so, the last moment of that present unnatural anger faded from his mind and body while his gaze settled back once more onto the many people going this way and that, from left to right, from behind and from straight ahead in his sight. He glanced once more up at the clear dry crystal blue sky above his head, wondering how long it would last before it was time to go, once again, and wondering how many he would be able to take with him when the harvest began.

All things are possible to those who believe, he concluded, and he did. They had no choice because they had no time.