The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

A raven gently settled itself down on one of the tall branches of a mighty fir tree on the side of the road. It knew this spot well. Squirrels inhabited a tree across the way, and a family of foxes had a den just down the road. There were few animals killed by the shiny, noisy animals that periodically drove up and down the road, but the foxes always left a little something behind as an offering. The raven knew all the predators living near its nest, and even remembered the big, fast moving, noisy ones.

The raven cocked its head, hearing one of them in the distance. Perhaps this was its lucky day; perhaps this one would kill one of the foxes, leaving the raven enough food for a week. As it came into view, the raven was puzzled. This was a new beast. It made a noise like the others, but it was longer, sleeker, and the same color as the raven. It pulled to the side of the road below the raven, and two two-legged creatures got out, also the same color as the raven. The raven hopped down from branch to branch, trying to get closer. It heard the conversation below, but could not understand it.

“Agent Davis, why did we stop here?”

“We need to go over our stories again before we enter the town, Agent Caldwell. One final review.”

“Jesus, Davis, we’ve been partners for ten years. I’ve been an agent for 13. Don’t you think I can remember a goddamn story? These people aren’t expecting anything. We don’t need to be perfect.”

“Wrong, Caldwell. We must be perfect. There’s something in this town that’s releasing the most amount of psychic energy seen since the late ‘70s. This is big. If we succeed, our performance will be taught to new agents; we’ll be legends.”

The raven fluttered down to the lowest branch of the tree, eye-level with the creatures. It cocked its head.

“What the fuck?”

“Davis, it’s just a bird, calm down.”

“We don’t know how this device works. It’s owner could be controlling local wildlife. Our mission could be compromised.”

“Davis, no one’s been able to control wildlife since...”

“The late ‘70s.”

“Fuck.”

The taller creature looked at the raven with narrowed eyes. The smaller one-the female?—turned away and got inside the large noisy predator. The taller one reached into its jacket pocket and pulled out a shiny grey object. The raven was intrigued. It bobbed its head up and down and craned its neck forward to get a better look.

A crack of noise, a brief flash of pain, and the soft flutter of downy feathers, a minor downpour of soft black rain.

Agent Davis got back into the car.

“Ok Caldwell, you’re my wife...”

Josh awoke slowly, in stages. He groaned and stretched out his arms, feeling the warm flesh next to him. Kate murmured softly, still flat on her back. He turned and marveled at her perfect body, at her exquisite face. He had an idea. He quietly rolled off the bed and crept around to her side. Gently spreading her legs, he put his mouth where so much had taken place just a few hours ago. Josh prided himself on his ability to stimulate a woman with his tongue, and he felt joy in being able to bring so much happiness to Kate. Christ, he thought, I’m going soft.

He entered her with his tongue, flicking back and forth, then went up and down along her slit, then traced circles around her small nub. He drew his teeth along it, gently scraping it. Kate moaned in her sleep and made soft sounds of pleasure. Josh used his fingers to enter her, feeling the upper wall of her vagina, and targeted her tender g-spot. He licked one of the fingers of his other hand and gently lifted up her ass, then slid his finger into her asshole. He was an artist, creating a masterpiece of arousal for an audience of one. Kate grimaced in her sleep and shook herself. She was slowly waking up. Josh accelerated his pace, using every part of his hands and mouth to pleasure Kate. She was breathing faster now, but her eyes were still closed. Faster, faster, faster, faster, then her eyes opened with a start and a scream of pure pleasure exited her mouth. He wasn’t sure how many orgasms her body could take after their last encounter, so he moved up on the bed again and lay down next to her.

“Thanks”

“My pleasure. Helluva way to wake up, huh?”

“Josh, I mean it. Thanks for everything, for that, for...before. I’ve never...felt anything that intense before.”

“I’m glad I could be...the one, y’know.”

“I wanted to explain something. I’m...I was a virgin, but you must have noticed something.”

“You were perfect.”

“Thanks.” She blushed. “But, I didn’t have what virgins...traditionally have.”

“A hymen?”

She blushed again. “God, just say it,” he thought. “Stop being so embarassed.” He noticed three red flashes emanating from his neck. “CRAP!” He had forgotten the necklace. Odd, it had always been so uncomfortable, so noticeable before.

“I was in a biking accident when I was ten, that’s why I didn’t have a hymen.”

“Look, I didn’t even notice. I was sort of, y’know, caught up in the moment. Why are you telling me this?”

“I just thought you would want to know my whole, history, I guess. Since we’re a couple now.”

Those five words should have sent Josh screaming for the door. But he just laid there, smiled, and said, “You’re right. Tell me more about yourself.”

Davis’s Yurometer flashed its sullen red light from its resting place in his cupholder, distracting him from the road.

“Look, there’s the welcome sign!”

“Quiet, Caldwell. Look. Whoever has the device just used it. Idiot. Now we won’t even need our cover stories. Plug it into the computer and find out where he is.”

“She.”

“What?”

“Where “she” is. We don’t know its a man.”

Davis shot Caldwell a look of pure disgust but held his tongue. Stupid woman. Just because she had fat red lips and a 36D bust, she thought she could spew out bullshit feminist crap. He allowed himself to fantasize about destroying her pathetic illusions with some carefully chosen words, then remembered about the mission. He couldn’t allow his growing exasperation with Caldwell to jeopardize their mission. This was his chance to make it big.

Kate had been telling him about her life for about an hour now, and Josh was starting to get worried. She was...different...from before. For one thing, she swore a lot more often. For another, she was very...candid about her last boyfriend, and about her fantasies. She hadn’t been sure what cocks (her word) looked like, but she knew she wanted it in her. After having Josh’s big, stiff rod in her, she didn’t want anything else (her words again). Was this new side of Kate the result of his wish? Or was it a simple byproduct of the release of ten years’ sexual tension?

“...sex again?”

“Sex” caught his attention. “What?”

“I said, can we have sex again? I want to feel the way I felt before, with your big cock inside me.”

“Uh...ok.” This was kind of weird. Josh wasn’t sure about how he felt about Kate talking like a whore. Still, the prospect of sex with her was an offer he couldn’t refuse. He rolled on top of her and started kissing her mouth, her neck, her breasts, her stomach. He trailed his tongue down the side of her legs, and was about to go for her pussy again, when her hands grabbed his head and pulled.

“What?”

“None of that. I want the real thing.”

Josh was slightly hurt. No girl had turned down his tongue before. But what the hell, no skin off his back. He looked into her eyes, watched her face as he entered her, fed off the obvious pleasure she exuded. His dick was pressured, squeezed from all sides by her warm, wet cavern. He took it slowly at first, sliding in and out, savoring every second of contact made with her, every nerve stimulated by her body. He started thrusting more vigorously and bent his neck down, concentrating on the motion of his hips. Then he surrendered to the primitive urges filling his brain, and shut down his thoughts. He simply did what came naturally, pounding in and out of Kate, all gentleness gone. This was a new thing for Josh and he would marvel later at how he had lost himself in the act of making love-of fucking, for that was what he did. His body made a slapping noise on every downthrust, and this drove Kate wild. She cried out for him, begging him to continue, to never, ever stop. He had lost control of himself, though, and all brakes had been removed. He was a truck, careening full tilt down a steep incline. She was in a car next to him, racing him to the ledge. She pulled ahead, then he caught up, then gained a small lead. Just as he was about to fall off, Josh, now totally lost, ruled by his most primitive passions, shouted through gritted teeth, “OH FUCK YEAH, KATE. TAKE ME, SLUT!” Kate found the extra gear, and the ledge, just as Josh did. Both were too lost to notice that Josh’s necklace had began to flash rhythymically, in tune with Josh’s up and down strokes. As Kate and Josh came, the necklace turned a bright red.

Davis pulled the car alongside the small white house and parked it. He picked up the Yurometer and examined.

“Well, it says this is the place. Too bad we haven’t gotten another reading, it would be nice to know if he’s still...”

The Yurometer flashed a bright, blood red and exploded in his hands. Psychic energy rushed through the agents’ bodies, rippling outward. If the Agency’s new Yurometer-equipped sattelite had been over the town at that moment, it would have seen a tidal wave of energy rushing in all directions, emanating from a small white house on the west side of town.

Davis reluctantly surfaced onto the beach of consciousness. He groaned. He had been having the oddest dream. He and Agent Caldwell had been...fucking...right there in the car. He looked at Caldwell. Odd...he had never noticed how beautiful she was. Her short, dirty-blonde hair, her luscious lips, her deep blue eyes, her legs, stretching out from underneath a modest skirt, her cleavage, only hinted at by her white shirt. Vanessa was gorgeous. Davis couldn’t control himself. He leaned over and put his lips on hers, entering her mouth with his tongue. She awoke with a start, and started to push him off, but surrendered almost immediately. Davis was already intensely aroused, and when she began kissing him back, matching him with her passion, he could no longer wait. He reached a hand around her back, under her skirt, and ripped off her panties. With his other hand, he unzipped his pants, freeing his cock.

“Come here, bitch.”

He grabbed her by the waist and lifted her with his arms-she was surprisingly light!—lined her up, then slammed her down on his cock, fully impaling her. As if to compensate for the space inside of her that had been filled, Vanessa exhaled heavily. “Oh god, Davis, that feels so gooooood.”

“Shut up.”

She did nothing; he lifted her up, and slammed her back down on his cock, like a jackhammer, over and over and over. She was leaning over him, now, her head angled back, her eyes closed. She was lost in her own world. Davis didn’t know if she was close, and he didn’t care. He could feel his groin tightening, the flashes of electricity building up. He began to shout wordlessly. Vanessa’s voice joined his. His hands, bloody from the explosion, traced red streaks up and down her shirt. His blood and sweat mixed together, soaking his shirt. He had no interest in holding back. He came like a volcano, fillng Vanessa with his seed. The eruption within her triggered Vanessa, and she arched her back and howled like an animal for what seemed like hours before finally collapsing on top of him, still filled with his cock.

His cell-phone began to ring.

“Shit! Get off me.” Vanessa climbed off, clearly pouting. She wanted more. She felt...odd...down in her pussy. She reached down and felt around. A flash of electricity rushed up her spine. She shook herself. That felt...good. She had tried masturbating when she was in high school, but it had never worked. It had never felt like this, though. She had to have more. She began rubbing, frantically.

“What is it, sir? What mission?” The phone crackled angrily. “Sir...please...I’m just up here with Vanessa on vacation...what? Psychic device? I’m ON VACATION. I HAVE BETTER THINGS TO DO. I DON’T CARE ABOUT ANY DEVICE.” As the chief yelled over the phone, Davis glanced at his partner. She was spread eagled in her chair, leaning back, her hand under skirt, her mouth twisted in pleasure.

“Sir. Shut up. I have to go.” He clicked off his phone and turned to Vanessa. “Oh, so you thought you could get some without me, eh?” She giggled as he lifted her again.

Thompson slammed his fist down on his desk. Two agents gone, just like that. And just before, a 6.0 on the Yurometer. The last time...he shuddered. It had taken a nationwide manhunt to get the five pieces under government control. It had always seemed odd that six scientists had made only 5 devices out of that meteor. Now it was clear what had happened: one had bided his time, waited until they were careless, then begun to make his will into reality. It had been a mistake to send only two agents. He clicked on the intercom.

“Send a full squad to the following coordinates. Tell them to bring back the device, and kill whoever is using it.”

It was too late to save the owner now; the process had begun. Soon he would be like the others, controlled by the device. It was for his own good.

It was for his own good.

It had been two days since the dog attack outside Kate’s house, a full day and a half since Josh had recovered consciousness, about 24 hours since he had woken up in bed next to a naked Kate Miller and about 5 minutes since they last had sex. Since their first sexual experience, he’d been out of the bed for about an hour, total. It wasn’t like he was resting (though he had spent several interesting hours on his back). Kate was...voracious...and he was starting to get worried. It just wasn’t natural. He’d been with his share of women, and none had been like this. He wasn’t Superman and, during his ten to fifteen minute breaks between fucks (it wasn’t lovemaking anymore), Kate just laid there on the bed pouting. He’d thought about wishing for infinite stamina or something, but sex only seemed to make it worse. Each fuck made him more tired and drained and Kate hornier. He’d noticed that his necklace flashed during sex; since Kate hadn’t suddenly gone limp and looked at him with a blank stare, he had written it off as a harmless side effect of wearing it (and sort of cool, too). He had started to wonder, though...

Josh decided to try something.

“Kate?”

She turned, excitement clearly visible on her face. “What? Ready to fuck again?”

“Uh...no.”

“Oh.”

“Listen...I want you to try something. Kate, have you ever tried masturbating before?”

“Of course! It doesn’t work, though.”

“Well, just wait a second.” Josh concentrated and wished that masturbating for...ten minutes would give Kate an incredible orgasm...and that she wouldn’t remember what he was doing just then. He wasn’t clear on why Kate shouldn’t know, but something within wanted the necklace’s power to remain his secret. It flashed three times, illuminating the darkening room. Kate’s face slackened, and she gazed at him for about ten seconds without a hint of recognition in her eyes. Then she shook her head slightly.

“I want you to try touching yourself, Kate.”

“I told you, it doesn’t work!”

“Just try it. For me.”

“O...k...” She looked at him, trying to figure out what he was up to. Josh shuddered inwardly. Kate wouldn’t have done this yesterday. She wouldn’t have looked at him like that, wouldn’t have...questioned him...she was different now. She started stroking her slit with her fingers, rubbing up and down. A look of surprise came onto her face. Something was happening.

“Oooh....god....”

Josh smiled. This would occupy her for a while. This type of thinking was new to him; he wouldn’t have done this to Kate yesterday. He recognized this and accepted it-she was no longer Kate, she was someone else; someone possessed by-addicted to-sex. Something was wrong and he had to find out what it was.

He clambered out of bed and searched for his clothes. Kate didn’t notice. She wasn’t distracted when he finally found his boxers hanging from the banister outside the room, or when he pulled on his sweater, or when he took one last look at her and shut the door.

Josh sprinted down the cold gray sidewalk. He didn’t know how long Kate would be occupied, and God knows he didn’t want her pulling some other guy off of the street to satisfy her craving. He was sure his grandfather had left some sort of documentation in the house; some kind of owner’s guide to this necklace. He couldn’t believe that, in all the years his grandfather had owned the necklace, he had never learned anything about its true power. He had searched through his memories trying to find some evidence of his grandfather’s knowledge, and he now saw his grandfather’s every furtive tug at his neck; every wince; every expression of barely contained impulse in a new light.

He finally reached his-he still found it hard to think of it that way-house. It was everything you’d expect from a house built by a man who was one step away from being a mad scientist. It was painted a deep, midnight blue-almost black. It had gables. It had a honest-to-god gargoyle, which his grandfather had claimed was rescued from a French cathedral due to be destroyed by the Nazis. Josh remembered his grandfather telling him the story when he turned eighteen.

“Josh,” he had begun. “I haven’t told you about this until now because, well, it’s not a story for kids. And it’s one of those things I have to tell you about now that you’re a man, and a Lowell.

Sgt. James Lowell was nervous. This was the third sign in as many miles posted in German, French and English which warned travelers “KEEP OUT! DUE TO BE DESTROYED 15/7/44.” And yet there was still no sign of...anything. Just rolling fields, hedges, the forest to his right, and this road, stretching as far as he could see. Laughter distracted him from his thoughts.

“...and she’s lying there, naked, saying, ‘Don’t you want me?’ and I say, ‘Listen, cheri. I’ve been at war for three years now. If you have a cunt, I want you.’ " Fucking Robert. Couldn’t keep his mouth shut for five minutes, even in enemy territory.

Rick convulsed in laughter. “You didn’t say that.”

“Swear to god. She loved it too.”

“You are a real sonuvabitch, you know that?” Rick cracked up again.

James had had enough. “You want to shut up? There should be Germans somewhere around here...it is still their territory. Where are Paul and Chuck and Skip?”

“Paul and Chuck were about a minute behind us...and there they are, see?” Robert pointed at the ridge behind them, where two figures gradually rose from the horizon. “And Skip was in front of us. You haven’t seen him?”

“Fuck, no. Where the fuck is he?” Then he heard the shouts.

“SARGE! SARGE!” It was coming from the bottom of the hill, from the woods. Skip?

“Sarge! You gotta come see this, sir!” Skip saluted. Even on an unofficial detour like this, when they were only after a couple of bottles of untouched wine, he acted like he was under inspection.

James sighed. “At ease, private. What do I have to see?”

“Sir! It’s a town, sir! Not on any of the maps, sir! Appears to be deserted, and wired with explosives, sir!”

“Town, I don’t see any town in the forest.”

“Sir! There is a valley in the forest, sir! You cannot see it from here, sir!”

“Ok, private, ok. We’ll check it out. Probably what all the signs have been referring to. It’s only July 12, though-I wonder why it’s wired.”

“Sir! I don’t know, sir!”

“Skip, you’ve known me since we were ten. All six of us grew up together. Why the fuck do you act like I’m fucking Ike when it’s only us around?”

“Sir! If I do that it makes it much harder to salute and say ‘sir’ around others, sir! It’s easier if I’m like this all the time, sir!”

James snorted. “Ok, Skip. Good work out there.” He motioned Paul, Chuck, Robert and Rick over to him. “Ok guys, Skip found us an abandoned town down in the forest over there. Might be an abandoned wine cellar or two, so let’s check it out. It’s wired for explosives, though, so be careful and DON’T TOUCH ANY WIRES.”

“Right.”

“Okay.”

“No problem.”

“Sounds good.”

“Sir! Yes sir!”

They trotted down the hill and into the forest. Five minutes later they reached a cobblestone path, and five minutes after that they were in the center of the formerly bustling town of St. Roche de la Ciel. James was a little rusty on his French, but this was definitely an odd name for a town-and a saint. Adding to the weirdness was a gigantic High Gothic cathedral that dominated the center of town. He didn’t care how deep this valley was, a behemoth like that should have been visible from the ridge.

“Split up, guys, and check out the houses. I’ll take a look in the cathedral.”

He jogged up the worn stone steps and up the magnificent bronze doors. Horizontal lines were carved about every foot or so and in between a curious story was related. It looked like a man and a woman figure were in a lush forest when a giant rock came from the sky and crashed in front of them. They worshipped the rock as a gift from God and installed in on a natural rock formation that appeared to be some kind of altar. It then showed the couple stealing children from nearby farmers and raising them, driving away the other locals. A small settlement grew around the altar, provided for by the rock. The door’s story stopped with the destruction of a small band of soldiers by some mystical force coming from the rock. “Crazy French,” he muttered to himself. “No wonder they can’t fight the Nazis.”

He pushed open the doors, which opened without protest. It was as if he was expected. This, along with the cool, damp air inside the building, gave him the creeps. He pushed the safety off on his rifle and ran through the narthex, into the nave of the cathedral. Pews stretched down either side of him, and gigantic stone pillars were placed along the outside of the room. Through the dim light filtering in through the windows, he saw a giant stone altar-the one from the doors?—ahead. He jogged down the main aisleway. Not only was it the altar from the story, the rock was also there. It was smaller than pictured, only about the size of a man’s head. He gingerly reached for it, then pulled back.

“Fuck, James, you pussy! Pick the damn thing up! Could use it against the Nazis!” This time, there was no hesitation. He grabbed it and lifted it easily. Odd. As he knew from his family’s farm, a rock this size should weigh a fair amount, but it felt almost weightless. He tucked it under his arm and jogged out of the cathedral, and found his five companions at the foot of the steps, gathered around something.

“What is it, guys?”

“Sir! This...gargoyle. It fell right towards us, sir! Like it was guided or something, sir!”

“At ease, Skip. Anyone hurt?”

“Sir, no sir! Lucky I was looking up, sir!”

“Guess so. Here, let me see it.” He pushed Rick out of the way and inspected the figure. It was totally unharmed by the fall. “Guys, we have to take this.”

“What? Why the fuck do we need to take this? It probably weighs a couple hundred pounds! And what the fuck is that under your arm?”

“Shut up, Robert! We’re taking it. That’s an order!”

“What about the wine?”

“What, Rick? You guys didn’t find any?”

“No. Town’s dry as a bone.”

“Well, I’ve found something better here.”

“What, a fucking rock?”

“Yes, Robert. A fucking rock. But according to these big doors behind me, it can do some pretty crazy shit.”

“Oh, so we take our fucking mission briefings from doors now? That’s rich.”

“You will shut up NOW, PRIVATE.”

“No! Why should I? You’ve gone nuts!”

At that moment, James wished for nothing else in the world, not even peace, more than he wanted Robert to shut up and take his order.

At that point in the story, Josh’s grandfather had abruptly stopped.

“But what happens next?”

“That’s a story that will have to wait, Joshy. Suffice to say, he took the order, and we got home safe, and we started a company together.”

He had never gotten the end of the story, and now Gramps was gone. Josh felt moisture gathering in his eyes. Fuck! He was done grieving. Still, he missed his grandfather. He was quirky, true, and had kept a gigantic secret from him his whole life, but still...he was a great man. Standing in front of the door to his grandfather’s-to his-house, Josh found himself wishing that he could talk to Gramps again. His necklace began to flash.

“Oh, sh—” A maelstrom of energy engulfed him.

Roger Thompson fingered the device in front of him, reminiscing on his finest moments. He was in the seized equipment area of the agency. The equipment in this room had taken over towns, even whole states. There was Governor Ventura’s Navy Seal ring, a powerful mind control device. It had taken a force of fifteen to infiltrate the mansion and subdue the angry governor. And here-oh, this was one of his favorites. They’d retrieved this bracelet from a small man who seemed to be more weasel than human, but who nevertheless was married to four (four!) ex-Playmates. It had uncanny powers over women, as Roger knew well. He liked to retrieve it every week or so and use it on whichever woman was in the office at the time. It was a lonely life, running the agency, and he took companionship whenever and however he could find it. N

Speaking of companionship, it had been a week and a half...

He walked back to his office, twirling the bracelet with his finger. Who would he pick? There was Meredith, an attractive redhead of about forty. Big tits, but a little fat. Hmm...Rosie? Thirtysomething blonde, small tits, great legs, nice figure. No...she had been last time. Ah, he knew.

“Linda?” he announced over the intercom. “Linda Cartas? Please come to my office.”

Cartas, in the week she had been at the agency, had been the female equivalent of the Christmas holiday: when she was present, no work got done and the closer she got to you, the less you did. She was of El Salvadoran descent and, in the men of the agency’s opinion, its finest export. She had caramel-colored skin, deep brown eyes, perfect breasts that she always drew attention to with a hanging cross necklace, precisely placed in her cleavage and, her most distinctive quality, lips that would make Angelina Jolie jealous. Though she was perfectly qualified-she wouldn’t have lasted a week if she hadn’t been-Thompson had been considering firing her. She was just too much of distraction. But first, he had to try her for himself.

Linda Cartas shuddered as she walked toward her boss’s office. She hated the old man; hated the sidelong glances he always threw at her breasts, at her legs, at her face. She had contemplated quitting, but the opportunity to know things that no one else in America knew drew her. She wanted knowledge.

She paused at Thompson’s door, gathered herself, took a deep breath, and entered.

“Yes, sir?”

“Ah, Ms. Cartas. Thank you for your promptness. I’ve been watching you very closely this past week. As you no doubt know by now, we here at the agency value talent and its manifestation, excellence, above all”

“Yes, sir.” This was straight from the training video. Why had he called her in? Why was he rubbing his wrist so much? Was that some kind of bracelet? What was he doing? Why...was...he...looking...at...h...e...r..........................

Thompson never got tired of that expression on the women’s faces, as they realized that they were being controlled, that the devices in the agency were not designed to pick up psychic waves within the building itself, that they were at his mercy. Then, as that expression of horror, disgust and outrage turned into cowlike acceptance.

“Ah, Ms. Cartas, yes. I have been watching you very closely. You like that, don’t you.”

“No.” The word came out in a flat monotone. Thompson grinned. He loved this.

“What do you like, Ms. Cartas?”

“My boyfriend Richie.”

“Really? Do you have sex with this Richie?”

“Yes. It’s wrong but I love it.”

“Ok. Ms. Cartas-can I call you Linda?”

“No.”

“Ms. Cartas. I want you to picture in your mind how you feel when you are about to climax with Richie. Not when you are climaxing, but just before.” She began to twist her right leg back and forth and closed her eyes. “I see you have it. Now, when I say your first name, you will feel a release, like you feel when Richie makes you orgasm.”

“Ok.”

“Linda.”

“OHHH GOD!!! YES! YES!” She tossed her head back and stamped her foot on the ground again and again. Linda was racked by her orgasm; her body quivered.

“Now, may I call you Linda?” She started to shout again, and quiver, and bite her lip. Gradually, the orgasm subsided.

“Yes.”

“Very good, Linda.” This time she fell on the floor, rolling, screaming in the intensity of the feelings coursing through her, pinching her breasts through her green shirt. “Now stand up.” Eventually, she did.

“You like it when I say your name, don’t you.”

“Yes.”

“You must like it when I speak to you, then. Careful, now. The right answer and I will give you a reward.”

She hesitated for a moment, as though thinking it out. “...Yes.”

“Very good, Linda!” He clapped his hands in approval as she fell down on the ground again, thrashing back and forth with pleasure. When she was done, he spoke again. “Why don’t you sit in a chair. You might get hurt falling like that.”

“Yes.”

“Now, where were we? Ah. You like it when I speak to you. So, you must like it when I look at you, correct?”

This time, he didn’t even need to remind her. She was quick. “Yes!”

“That’s very flattering to hear, Linda!” He waited for her to finish. “So, if you like it when I talk to you, and when I look at you, you must be very attracted to me.”

“Yes.”

“You must want to have sex with me very much.”

“Yes.”

“You must want to take off my pants right now and suck my cock.”

“No.” Damn! He had moved too fast.

“Let me put this another way. Picture again how you feel right before you are about to cum. Now, every time you say ‘No’ to one of my little questions, that you will feel like that, and that feeling will not go away until you say ‘Yes’. Ok?”

“Yes.”

“Now, you must want to suck my cock right now.”

“No...unnnhh......ooooh....ahhhhh.” Thompson leaned back. He could wait a few minutes. Cartas surprised him. She lasted ten before: “Oh, Mr. Thompson, please make this go away. Let me cum.”

“All you have to do is say ‘Yes’ when I ask you: you must want to suck my cock now, right?”

“........Yes.” And she did want to, very much. And then she came.

“Ok, take off your clothes, quickly now,” he said once she was done. Linda stripped quickly, exposing perfect brown breasts-capped by very large, very hard brown nipples-and a shaved pussy. “Now come here and suck me off.”

She ran over to his desk, and leaned over, letting her magnificent tits hang down. She quickly undid his pants and pulled down his underwear, then took him into her mouth, all the way. He could feel the back of her throat against the tip of his cock as she applied a massive amount of suction against him. She bobbed up and down slowly, her thick red lips formed in a perfect O. She let him out of her mouth and kissed her way down his shaft, then moved back up and bathed his tip with her tongue. She was incredible. Thompson had planned to just stop after the blow job, but if she could do that with just her mouth...

“Now stop.” She did, grudgingly. “Sit on it.” She obeyed him, straddling his cock and then pushing it inside her as far as it would go. As she started bouncing up and down, her breasts jiggling in front of his face, he couldn’t resist adding: “After five minutes of this, you will have an orgasm, and it will be ten times as powerful as it was with Richie. Do you understand?”

“YES! YES!” She pushed up and down with her tanned, muscular legs, repeatedly filling herself to bursting with Mr. Thompson’s thick cock. It gave her so much more than Richie’s. Thompson pulled her body towards him, and buried his face in her stupendous breasts, licking, biting, caressing them as much as he could. The texture, the warmth he felt inside of her was like no other woman, it stimulated every inch of his cock. After five minutes, she had the best orgasm of her life. Ten seconds later, so did he. Their screams of pleasure filled the office with rich sexual harmony.

After ten minutes of sitting in his chair, pressed against Linda’s breasts, Roger had had enough.

“Linda. Stand up, get dressed, and walk out of the office. The sound of the door closing behind you will erase everything that has taken place since you walked in here from your memory. Instead you will remember being praised by me for your work ethic.”

After she was finally gone, he leaned back, drained. He had thirty seconds of peace before his assistant ran into the office.

“Sir!” he breathed, gasping for air.

“What is it?”

“Sir, a 7.0 on the Yurometer. From New Hampshire.”

“What?”

“Yes sir. We checked the records. The only type of activity that can rate a 7.0 is...”

“I know. Crossing. Things just keep getting better and better, don’t they? Prepare my jet. I’m going myself.”

“Yes sir!”

Josh opened his eyes to a blood red sky. Streaks of black flashed across the great expanse. A face swam in front of him, gradually coming together to form-no. It couldn’t be.

“Joshy, wake up! For God’s sake. You’ve got to wake up! We don’t have much time!”

“Who—”

“It’s Gramps. You’re still living! How did you cross over into hell like th—” He saw the necklace, still glowing faintly.

“Oh, shit.”