The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

1

Paul Bryant provided a counselling and psychotherapy service for the African government. He was a therapist-exchange basis to the far outback regions and communities of the country of central Africa. He had just settled back against the firm leather seat in the old rail carriage of the train. It was finally taking him back to the real world of the coastal cities.

He believed the remote country was a nice place to visit, but not to live there for any longer than he had to. It was too hot, too dry, and had no sea breeze to cool off the sweltering African heat of the day.

Although he had lived most of his life in Africa, it had always been up and down the coastal cities. Rarely had Paul ever had a reason to go any more than fifty miles inland from the coast. He had been born in Africa. Apart from a stint at a university in England where he had obtained his degree, he had never left the country for any longer than a few days at a time.

The families and communities in the far outback regions lived so far apart there had been many, many times when he’d had to hire a plane to get him to someone in need of his services urgently. A four-wheel drive was simply impractical because of the demand on his time away from the local clinic base from which he had been operating his practice.

When it came to the various languages, Paul had only minor difficulties. Most spoke English, even if in broken fashion. Having been raised in the country, Paul was familiar with most dialects, enough to get him out of trouble, or, on some occasions, into it. When he knew he was going somewhere that he expected communication difficulties he would always find an interpreter to take with him.

Paul’s skills were such that he rarely needed the interpreter, though, once the patient had been told the gist of what was going on and what was about to happen. In therapy sessions, particularly with hypnosis, he used facial and behavioural expressions, body language and vocal tones to accomplish whatever needed to be done.

It was usually done quite quickly, too. It made no difference whether his patients had been men, women, or children. Once he had their full conscious attention he had them and that was that.

Now, he rested the side of his head against the edge of his hand as a pillow. His body was tucked up and relaxed. He leaned gently against the side of the frame and gazed vacantly out of the smeared and dusty window. The rocking and rolling old railway carriage bumped and rattled along, winding its way up a mountainside toward its first stop. Thankfully, there was only one stop for the whole seven-hour trip.

He sighed again loudly, allowing his thoughts to wander wherever they wanted to go. He was just pleased to be going back to where he was going and glad he had paid the extra money for a closed berth carriage. He had been told he would be sharing with someone, but nobody had turned up by the time the train had left the station. He hadn’t minded though and thought himself very lucky. There were only two berth type carriages on the end of the train.

He had wanted peace and quiet anyway for the seven-hour, all-day train ride back to the coast. That’s why he had opted for the closed-berthed and not the public seats of the noisy old drafty main public carriages.

He sighed again, allowing the rocking and rolling motion of the old carriage to gently lull him into a light, dozing sleep.

2

Paul’s relaxing doze came to an end when his carriage lurched suddenly with the driver’s final and sudden application of the train’s brakes. It clanked noisily to a halt at the station, whooshing out its belly-full of excess steam and blowing its ear-shattering whistle twice.

He blinked and straightened in his seat. Looking at his watch, he drew a deep breath and began turning his neck from side to side; trying to work out the kinks he’d gotten from resting his head sideways on his hand against the window of the carriage. He was still doing that when the solid wooden door to his carriage suddenly squealed, sliding open with a bang against the stops.

His head snapped around to the unwanted noise in the doorway, his temperament now unsettled because his paid-for privacy had been disturbed. He was ready to tell whoever had made the mistake of entering his private berth to take a hike, quick smart. When his eyes fell upon the face of the tall black African woman who entered carrying one large suitcase, however, his annoyance dissipated as instantly as it had come with the noisy opening of the noisy.

As he watched her enter and place the big suitcase on the floor he allowed his gaze to take in a full and proper appreciation of the exquisite display African fine art that stood before him now. She averted his gaze, slammed the door closed and then lifted the heavy suitcase easily. It appeared as if she really only needed one hand to do it, although she had used both, such was the lightness with which she seemed to throw it up onto the rack located above head-level

He concluded it could have been full of feathers. With observation, Paul decided she must have been at least six feet tall. Her frame was solid, but lithe and athletic-looking. Her skin was as black as charcoal, almost blue-black. Her figure was full and curvaceous. What he did notice, however, or sensed about his new houseguest was the presence about her of personal strength or power. He couldn’t quite be sure which, but it was there. It exuded from her as she turned and sat down in the seat opposite him and to his right.

He noticed she had not looked at him nor met his direct gaze as yet. Even now, as she sat across from him, her eyes were directed into her lap. She seemed to be staring vacantly downward over her nose at her hands, which lay crossed atop it. One palm rested lightly in the other.

He wondered whether he should say anything or introduce himself, knowing either she or her family would have to be quite well off to be able to afford the cost of a private berth. God knows it had cost him a pretty penny. He decided not to say anything for the moment, wondering as he settled with that decision whether she might, in fact, not be able to speak English at all.

His experienced observatory-gaze continued to casually take in the way the stunning black woman in her late twenties or early thirties dressed. His mind attempted to figure out her national heritage. Her eyes remained downcast and had still not shifted their direction of focus from her hands resting lightly clasped on her lap.

She wore a mainly royal blue outfit of sorts. The black-edged suit-coat was buttoned from between her hidden, but full, large breasts, all the way to her waist. Coming from beneath the now-spread tails of the very well fitting and figure-enhancing coat flowed a good quality material of the same deep-royal blue colour. Its bottom edging was also finished nicely in black. The attractive material showed the way of her shapely form by hugging its cut smoothly to her well-developed thighs. It ended midway down her calves, which, he also noticed, were well muscled.

His eyes moved downwards over her ankles to her feet. They were large, but not ungainly nor unattractive for her size. The pitch-black African woman wore flat-soled blue shoes of a darker colour blue, but in the same texture of royal shading as her suit. All in all, she could have been a world-class fashion model of the country.

After a few minutes of wondering, however, he concluded that she was not. If she were, she would have had the confidence to make eye contact or verbal contact with him by now. His own experience told him that once an African national gained confidence from something or other, it stayed with them in their personality until the day they died. It was to them, as if they had won an Olympic medal, such was the personal importance of the event to their mind-set.

Paul let his gaze casually wander back up over her well-dressed form to rest once again on her face. He again decided her age to be around thirty, give or take a year or two. Her eyes still remained downcast, but her head was not. She held her chin level with the horizontal, almost aristocratically, as if with a quiet and secret private pride in herself.

He saw that in holding her head that way, with her gaze downcast, he could see a large proportion of the whites of her eyes. It gave her a wild sort of look, primeval and primitive when taken overall with the extreme size and colour pigmentation of her shiny and very black skin.

For almost half an hour his mind deducted, concluded and reasoned about her heritage, given the way she held the carriage of her head atop her strong, square-set shoulders. Finally, he decided that she must be from the heart of the interior. All of the Africans he had ever seen that had skin as black as she had come from those regions.

As to her actual heritage, he still wasn’t quite sure, but figured she was most probably from the Maasai people. They were a fiercely proud and warlike culture of people who, even to this day, had not accepted any rule over them. They still tended their herds of cattle and still grew their own maze and barley. When it came to whatever else was going on in Africa at any given time in history, it had been said that the Maasai people simply did not care, preferring instead to be left alone to do their own thing. They politely considered themselves a law unto themselves.

Paul remembered one instance of the Maasai people in particular. He had been told of the fierceness of their culture in a graphic and horrific description of the gruesome fate of some poor unfortunate fellow. He had met his end on the razor sharp points of several of the Maasai men’s short hunting spears. The first spear-point had entered at the base of his penis. The last had entered his right eye. Several additional spears had also entered his body at other selected points upward along the line between the two.

The black man was from another area completely and had lived miles away from that particular Maasai village. Apparently, he had become drunk on the local sap after a fight with one of his wives. He had then raped a Maasai woman who had been journeying with a small child between the two villages. Several Maasai men had gone to his house in the dead of night, perforating and impaling him in his bed while he slept between two of his wives.

Paul glanced out of the window when the train whistle shrieked three times. A man would definitely have to have permission before he considered parking his Toyota Land Rover in a Maasai woman’s jungle garage, he concluded. Although, he added to that thought with a silent smile—’this’ Maasai woman would be sure to be one hell of a challenge, even with the odd spear point or two up a man’s ass, just to nudge him along.

3

As the old train rocked and rolled along, winding its way up through the lush, green mountainside covered with dense trees, Paul found himself with a God’s eye view of the beautiful green jungle canopies below him. God, he loved Africa, his Africa, the Africa without the violence and hatred of current times and of times gone by.

Off in the distance far below he saw a herd of elephants spraying water from their long trunks at some of their young at a watering hole. Closer to the train’s passing, his gaze was rewarded with the sight of many of the animals his beloved country was famous for-lions, ostriches, cheetahs and the odd panther. The beautiful Black Panthers were his favourite African big cat.

At the sight of one of the sleek Black Panthers resting lazily in the branch of a tree not more than twenty yards from the passing window of his carriage, his thoughts returned to the incredible sensual beauty of the shining dark satin-skinned woman sitting opposite him. She could be my Black Panther mate, he thought sensually. Then he smiled, suddenly strangely determined, knowing there really was no challenge, like no challenge.

His sensual thoughts in fantasy imaged himself as a large and strong black cat, taking her sexually, like a wild animal, on the dusty African floor, surrounded by tall trees and lush thick green canopies that kept the burning sun from scorching their naked skins.

Strong sensual images of hunkering her down with the force of his body-weight on the dirt floor of their mutually selected cave came thick and fast to his imagination. Vivid scenes of her flanks flatten and spread beneath his lowering loins over her black, shiny rump came and went from his mind’s eye.

Images came, stayed, and then went of probing her hindquarters for entrance with his long, thick stem. They, in turn, were then replaced by others of leaning forward and biting her ears and flesh of shoulders, until she arched and raised her black rump high, submitting to him and allowing that which Nature intended for the powerful Black Panther to mate, and, mate often.

Images came and they went, returning again and again, but always there, always in full living colour. He was mounting her fast, deep and savagely when she tired of his nipping teeth at her ears or flesh of neck. And then he was impaling her deeply, fully, and royally.

And finally he was satisfied, once lodged within her body, to settle his weight well down on her flanks and hindquarters so she could not dislodge him. For once a Black Panther had joined in flesh with his mate, the two would remain joined for over an hour at a time. Finally, and only in the last few seconds, after almost an hour of coupling, his length and girth would enlarge and expand within her channel that swelled at the same pace as his thickening.

Then their mutual crushing would be incapable of taking any more. The pair of big sleek black cats would then consummate their sensual coupling with a mutual release of the most intense sexual fluids, tension and energy found in any branch of the African big cat family.

Images fired his imagination along with his loins as he saw and experienced himself savaging her brutally with his plunging thrusts and lunges. He would snarl wildly at Nature in unknowing appreciation for allowing him the release he was giving to his mate, as well as pleasure; albeit along with the natural dominance and control he was exerting and taking from her.

And, as his fertile and virile seed gushed into her choking, flooding channel, Nature would then decree, by instinct, that she would ram her hindquarters back against that part of his loins stabbing her relentlessly in the last few seconds of their joining. It would spear her centre repeatedly and deeply, savagely and long while her body sucked the last of the African male panther’s dew for her babies to be seeded and born and for the progeny to survive.

Their young would never know the natural contentment their parents would feel, after having their day of fiery mating on their behalf beneath the savage African sun.

Only when the powerful black male panther had emptied of his last drop would he bite her one last time before leaving the heated depths of her forced embrace. But that last bite would not be savage, not meant to hurt, but rather to show he had chosen well in her as his selected mate; that he was happy and content with her yielding, her total and final submission with the offerings she had given and taken from him. Only then would he withdraw.

He would then watch her proudly as she rolled slowly over on her back with her paws upturned and resting on her shiny, furry black belly for many hours. She would hold his seed deep in her womb until Nature told her that several had taken root in her belly. Then she, too, would stand and stretch lazily, nuzzle him softly and then allow his remaining unneeded seed to drain from her loins into the dusty floor. They would then hunt together for food-needed padding on her flesh to care for the young of their most recent powerful mating and long, arduous physical joining.

As his sensual imaging drew to a close Paul became aware of the physical change in his lower groin because of it.

He glanced across at the present object of his fantasies and desires, but her gaze remained unmoving from where it had been since the beginning. It was firmly focused on her two hands that rested lazily in her lap.

It was at that point, as he saw the shiny, glistening beads of Nature’s sweat lining her forehead like a thousand jewels of sparkling African diamonds that Paul saw in her the realisation of the fantasy he had just experienced so vividly.

He decided to use all of his skills to take her, right there in the carriage, within the duration of the several uninterrupted hours yet remaining ahead of them before they reached the coast and their final stop.

Yes, he smiled inwardly, as his thoughts began to race with plans—there was no challenge, like no challenge. He would have and take his now-chosen Black Panther mate in any way he could, and in all ways, before she would leave his presence once and for all, and for good.

Paul let his calculating awareness take in the environment of the car and all and everything within. His therapist’s mind went into full swing as he relaxed and coaxed his subconscious aspect upward and within his conscious reach of it.

The old train continued to rock and roll along its way, winding higher and higher upward through the mountains of greenery and vegetation. Their carriage swayed gently from side to side in constant motion and effect on both occupants’ physical bodies, relaxing them.

The temperature within the car was slowly cooling as the train gained in altitude. It was a welcome relief. Yet the presence of the former heat from the lower humid valleys still remained drying on their skin, cooling their minds, if nothing else.

He glanced again at her eyes, downcast above a high-held chin, her face sensual and proud with large sections of eye-white showing with the carriage of her pride in something personal.

Paul felt his loins twitch, urging him onward in his plans to take and make this Amazonian Black Panther his own for the duration of their journey together. He would dominate her in life and lust before she would leave this train. Of that, he had no doubts at all.

Then suddenly it came to him. His subconscious mind gave him the direction he needed to take his conscious mind in order to accomplish his lusty goal. Behavioural hypnosis, Paul smiled. He could always count on his inner, deep mind to come to his aid when he needed it, of course-behavioural hypnosis or trigger hypnosis, as some called it in the trade.

Stimulus and response-just like Pavlov and his dogs; establish a constant trigger or stimulus and desired response until the response occurred without the dog remembering the reason why it did so. Perfect, he smiled silently to himself-absolutely bloody perfect.

Paul’s awareness took in his intended black mate’s seated stance.

She sat rigid, stiff- backed, and very erect. He felt the same way in his loins at that moment. He knew her shoulders and spine would be holding quite a lot of muscular tension that would only be too happy to be released if given the chance. He intended to give it that chance and then some.

Her shoulders too, were being held back firmly, proudly, extending her full bosom and allowing it to appear even more handsome and huge than his fantasies could even imagine at that point.

The black beauty Queen’s eye muscles must also be very tired, he concluded, recalling the strain it must be to hold her head as high as she was, with her gaze directed downward at least forty-five degrees.

Paul’s plan slowly settled and then finally crystallized. His opening to hypnotizing her would be the tension build up in her body. Yes. That was the way. That was the key. He chose a trigger in his mind, one that was natural without being too disturbing; attention-grabbing without being too annoying and too obvious, at least to begin with.

His trigger would be the vocally- intoned clearing his throat, gently, but firmly, to attract her questioning attention each time. And each time he did so he would establish the trigger-response routine until she was completely responsive and unquestioning to that trigger without even realizing why she was responding that way.

He would start gently, he decided. Then he would continue more firmly until finally he dominated. All triggers would contain variations of the same aural and physical trigger, but with differing degrees of emphasis on each one. That would establish not only the trigger-response routine, but also his ultimate and final dominance over her and all without saying a single word.

Paul had noticed his chosen black Goddess only blinked occasionally and when she did so it was a very quick action. He decided that would be the way to attract the attention of her subconscious mind.

After that it would be her body’s natural tendency to use that avenue to relax and relieve all tension that would be held trapped in that aspect of her mind and in the present until he decided to give it back to her. Then he would send it back to where it had come from, taking all memories of whatever happened within the four walls of the carriage over the next several hours back down to the depths of her mind with it, locked away from her conscious mind’s recall.

4

After a few minutes of mental focusing Paul began to pace her breathing rate. It was deep and very slow. That alone took him several minutes to become comfortable within himself. He was not in condition and breathed shallowly of late.

He admonished himself that he would have to get back into the squash with his colleagues. Then, once comfortable with pacing and matching her breathing he turned his head and faced directly toward her, readying to deliver the first trigger. Then he did so.

“Ahem!” He cleared his throat a little loudly.

Her eyes and then her face darted instantly to the source of the sudden interruption of her thoughts and the silence of the berth car they both occupied. It was an annoyance written all over her face, a puzzled frown lining her glistening smooth forehead. He took action quickly with the imagined response he would instil.

His eyes blinked slowly, lowering his eyelids tiredly, accompanied by an exaggerated sigh.

He raised and lowered his chest and shoulders. Then he lowered his eyelids fully until they closed completely. Holding them closed for a few seconds he then opened them quickly again.

To his delight she was blinking quickly. He turned his face from her then while she was still looking questioningly and angrily at him and gazed out the window for several minutes.

This, he figured would allow her subconscious mind the necessary time to interpret his behavioural actions to mean; ‘Why don’t you just blink some more, let go completely with a sigh, and relax all that tension away?”

After several minutes of ignoring her completely and gazing idly out of the window Paul turned his face back to the front and allowed his awareness to take in her countenance once again.

She was as she had been, head to the front, eyes downcast to her hands, which rested in her lap. He turned his head and gazed directly at her eyes.

“Ahem.” He cleared his throat again, a little softer this time, allowing her subconscious mind to associate two tones with the one sound-trigger.

Again her angry eyes and questioning shiny black brow darted instantly to stare at him. Her pupils blazed their silent message at his actions. Again Paul met her fiery and focused gaze with a long, slow blink and a heavy, relaxed sigh. Upon opening his eyes again after keeping them closed for only a few long seconds he found her staring directly at him.

The whites of her eyes showed her obvious irritation and annoyance. Her forehead messaged her puzzlement at his strange actions. Her eyes messaged her anger. She looked to Paul at that point like a wild black cat in season, the whites of her eyes displaying her personal strength and power as if she did not want, and had no intention of ‘not’ defending herself.

Nevertheless, her eyes again blinked quickly, several times while she glared, with some of those blinks a little slower than the ones before.

Paul turned away again while she still held his gaze fiercely. He looked casually out of the window as he had before, deciding next time to keep the strength in his vocal trigger for a couple of more times before changing it to a soft vocal clearing of his throat.

His heart had steadied now from its original thumping against his rib cage upon the deliverance of his first vocal trigger and suggested behavioural response. It now beat steadily beneath his chest.

His groin then suddenly moved with the feeling of the control aspect of what he was doing; the challenge of there having been no challenge before he had begun. The excitement of both controlling her without her conscious consent and of the raw sensuality to come was already in full and glorious living colour in his mind and imagination.

Paul again gave her subconscious mind the necessary time to allow for the comparison of the second trigger and the response to the first one he had given. He knew already that her inner mind would be establishing the familiarity between visual and aural triggers and physical response- triggers, as well as her body’s response.

And he knew that finally, when he had succeeded, she would not even turn to look at him in response to any of those triggers. She would simply continue to blink and relax deeply until finally, her eyes would simply blink and close for the last time and then remain closed. He would then test the depth of her trance with various loud and different vocal sounds.

If she did not regain her alertness and open her eyes consciously it would mean that her subconscious mind had won. It would not be allowing her conscious mind and remaining awareness the physical control necessary to interrupt the deep and necessary relaxation, as it would have interpreted the entire series of events and trigger commands.

Then he would have won. And without a shadow of doubt, he intended to. He turned to face her once more.

“Ahem!” He triggered again in a commanding tone as he turned his head. This time he found her eyes already glaring and waiting for him, hostile annoyance and anger now written all over her brow.

Her deep brown eyes were formidable and black in hidden fury that excited him to the core. Immediately he blinked quickly in the form of a silent physical command, as if to say, Watch me! Follow me-accompanied by a positive, not-so-subtle curt nod of his head.

Then he blinked again, but slowly this time, sighing loudly and raising and lowering his chest and shoulders in an exaggerated, relaxing fashion and manner.

After a few seconds of keeping his eyes closed he opened them and held her gaze and watched, waiting for her response. It came after several agonizing seconds. She blinked quickly as she stared angrily into his eyes. Then she blinked several more times after that. Each one was a little slower than the previous.

Most importantly, Paul observed, was that she gave a little sigh, her shoulders visibly relaxing just a little with the subsequent blinks. He smiled to her and visibly relaxed himself again, as sign of her reward for following him.

Then he turned and gazed casually out of the window again, ignoring her completely as if nothing unusual had happened. Again he left her consciousness in the hands of her own inner mind and the natural repetitive processes of her unknown behavioural conditioning.

By this time Paul’s body was as hard as granite rock inside his loose trousers. He gazed at the mountains to his side and above him. His eyes followed them down to beyond his line of sight; far below from where the old train now climbed. It took all of his self-control to prevent from gripping that part of himself in a fierce personal embrace, but he managed it for the greater cause.

He couldn’t afford to give her subconscious mind any new behaviour at this stage. Then, after a few minutes of staring out the window he turned to face her once more.

“Ahem.” He cleared gently this time for effect as he turned his head toward her.

Again he found her white-eyed blazing gaze staring angrily at him in response, only this time it held a little less annoyance in its depth, a little less of her anger. Again he blinked slowly, closing his eyes completely with a long sigh, accompanied by the raising and lowering of his chest and shoulders.

And again, after holding his eyes closed for several long seconds he opened them and found her gaze waiting. He watched and waited anxiously for her response.

She continued to stare at him for several seconds. It seemed to him to seem almost as if she somehow knew what he was doing and was fighting him. Her brow creased for a few seconds. That thought caused Paul’s loins to twitch very strongly in his trousers.

Then finally she blinked twice in succession as she held his strong and steady gaze. Paul blinked quickly again, nodding his head abruptly in silent command as he did so. Then he closed his eyelids slowly with a sigh once more.

When he opened his eyes again she was still there, still with him, and now her eyes were blinking slowly; each one accompanied by a small sigh and a relaxing of her shoulders.

Paul smiled warmly at her, rewarding her again. Then he looked casually away, ignoring her completely once more. He was now allowing Nature and her inner mind to take its natural and newly conditioned course, his own mind and furtive imagination already beginning to undo the buttons on her smart royal blue coat.

Her hidden full breasts could almost be felt in the palms of his hands, between the fingers that grasped and plied her firm flesh of breast. His lips could almost taste the succulent jet-black nipples that awaited his mouth and teeth without her knowing or conscious wanting as yet.

The lush greenery of the passing wild, untamed jungle matched his mind’s eye images of the lushness of her lower black furry saddle, hidden deeply beneath its royal blue material covering.

Paul decided not to wait as long before delivering his next trigger and turned back to face her after only about a minute. He took in her full countenance and body posture. She sat almost as before. Her eyes were downcast to her hands clasped in her lap, except now, Paul noticed, her spine was not held as erect as it had been.

Her shoulders had obviously relaxed a great deal, being rounded now and not held back. Her head now leaned forward slightly-not elevated to the exact horizontal as it had been.

Her chin rested much lower toward her chest than it had been previously. He smiled at her quietly, rewarding her once more for unknowingly and unconsciously following his disguised commands. He was winning. It was now only a matter of time, and, he had plenty of that.

“Ahem.” He cleared again gently this time, noticing her eyes blink, even before she turned her proud and beautiful head to face him.

When she did so this time Paul noticed there was only a little sign of annoyance and hostility in her gaze. It was the beginning of an acceptance of familiar events. Also, as she turned her face toward him she sighed so that when she faced him fully her face seemed relaxed and calm, her shoulders rounded even more so, her breathing gentle and quiet. Paul blinked quickly with a curt command-nod of his head.

She blinked quickly and immediately in response to the trigger, puzzlement still showing clearly on her brow as if she were silently asking him why he was doing this to her. But her inner mind answered her own unasked question with a soft bodily sigh from her throat and a further relaxing of her shoulders.

Then her eyes blinked again, but even more slowly this time. They remained closed for a few seconds before slowly opening again to look tiredly and a little red-rimmed at him.

Paul smiled her warm and friendly reward to her, and then repeated her conditioning by looking away and out of the window again. Each breath he took he undid in his mind yet another button of her coat.

That brought him closer to her shining black flesh of breasts and incredibly dark, long nipples he was sure she would have atop each full mound. Then, without waiting very long at all he observed her properly, not caring about her conscious observations, if she had any at all remaining.

Her chin sat much lower, her back and shoulders more rounded and her breathing seemed more deep and regular. Her eyes were no longer wide open, but sat at three-quarter mast.

“Ahem!” Paul cleared dominantly, hardening his gaze.

Her Black Panther’s deep eyes blinked immediately and closed with a soft sigh from her slightly parted full and very kissable lips. Her chest and shoulders fell a little more. But the most important happening response to Paul was that this time she did ‘not’ turn to face him.

His heart skipped a beat with the mounting inner excitement he felt. It consisted of pure raw lust born of the power of a victory near won. It was the absolute control over another human being without their knowledge, knowing or consent. He was almost there.

Slowly she turned her face toward him, struggling to open her eyes with the turning of her proud head in a tired, couldn’t-be-bothered fashion.

Once facing him she finally managed to get her eyes fully open, with only a slight appearance of puzzlement showing on her glistening black brow.

Paul smiled a reward to her and relaxed again with a sigh, and this time, a very exaggerated movement of his chest and shoulders. Then he triggered her again, this time with force and command.

“Ahem!” He intoned, as he deepened his gaze, trapping hers forcibly at the same time.

Then he smiled inwardly in self-congratulations. His black beauty’s eyes struggled and fought desperately and valiantly only for a few seconds. Then they slammed shut like the closing down of two heavy garage doors. They sealed down with a loud sigh escaping her lips and quite a visible dropping and rounding of her shoulders.

Paul just sat there staring at what he’d accomplished. His heart thumped wildly against his ribs with his growing sexual tension and restrained excitement. His standing part strained for release and urgent penetration of the black velvet thighs now surely captured.

His imagination raced ahead of the developing situation, allowing him to vividly see himself, naked and lying upon her full nude form. He groaned silently as he felt her warm and soft sexuality beneath him and against his own.

He explored mentally, experiencing her blackness merging with his whiteness; having her, taking her, penetrating her all and everywhere his rampant desire took him.

His urgency mounted and released the heat of capture in his loins of the total and complete domination and control over his unwilling, but chosen mate. Then Paul cautioned himself to slow down and think with his head, and not the other. He had to work to his known procedure and methodology.

He gazed at her as she sat there. She breathed peacefully. Her nostrils flared widely, occasionally, as she sighed and relaxed a little more deeply with each gentle breath.

He could see her unconscious mind now had fully taken the lead and was releasing all of the tension she had been carrying. It melted from her mind and from her body with each rise and fall of her chest and shoulders.

Paul’s smile then slowly faded from his face as he came to the decision to test her, without any more trigger conditioning. He was taking a big risk, he knew, but for some reason he felt confident, going by her response conditioning so far.

He clapped his hands softly, giving her remaining conscious awareness a different sound to consider, and, at the same time, testing her subconscious mind’s determination to continue to relax her mind and body.

He was also giving her subconscious mind a chance to overcome whatever conscious awareness still remained, if it was strong enough. It was, almost.

Her eyes struggled to open at the arrival of the new sound in her conditioning. Her brow creased with visible signage of that inner conflict and struggle. Paul then acted quickly and deepened her again.

“Ahem!” He cleared his throat in dominant conditioned command.

Her eyes gave up immediately and closed back down. Her shoulders relaxed even more visibly with the sigh that escaped quickly from her throat. Then she just sat there, breathing gently, all trace of tension and puzzlement gone completely from her face and features.

Her head hung down toward her chest. Her left hand had fallen from the other and off her lap and now lay loose and limp on the old leather seat beside her thigh. Paul gazed for several long seconds at the lightness of the skin colour on the palms of her hands now visible to him, comparing that much lighter colour in its stark contrast to the pitch-black colour of the skin on her face.

Paul sat back then and relaxed completely himself. He had done it. The smile on his face gradually turned into a wide grin. He decided to test her again, more conclusively this time. And he did. This time her eyelids did not register even the hint of a struggle. Nor did her brow and nor did her head attempt to turn to face him. He triggered her again with a gentle clearing of his throat, noticing with pride as she immediately sighed deeply and seemed to relax even more so.

Paul believed her unconscious mind was now responding to his trigger without her even looking at him or opening her eyes, or even knowing the reason why. In her mind’s imagination he knew she would see herself blinking slowly and relaxing even more deeply again, without doubt, and without looking for reasons why.

Paul doubted if she could even remember why now that she was relaxing as deeply as she was sure to be. The response had now been conditioned in her, just like Pavlov’s dog. Her whole response routine had seemed now to become automatic and physiologically responsive.

He triggered her several more times with gentle throat clearing, carefully watching her relax visibly and aurally with her sighs, deeper and deeper down into the quiet calm of her own mind.

He was readying her trance for one final test. Then he tested that trance depth several times with handclaps and foot-stamps on the floor. He varied the loudness, but none showed him any visible affects of the disturbance of her calm face and features whatsoever.

His midnight-coloured Princess just sat there, calm and relaxed and seemingly relaxing more and more with each gentle, easy breath she took.

Paul’s smile then faded, to be replaced instantly with a set determination and a slight tensioning of his jaw muscles as the old train finally reached the top of the high mountain range.

Now he would take his mate, his Black Panther, just like he had envisioned in his earlier fantasy. He would take her in all ways and he would enjoy her immensely before they both reached their mutual destination.

Then his smile slowly returned knowing that she, too, would reach several intense peaks and passings because of his sexual and sensual ministrations to her senses and her body before the old train would finally grind to a steaming halt at the end station.

Yes, he smiled victoriously as he stood slowly and moved to sit more directly opposite her. There was no challenge, like no challenge.

5

After several very enjoyable and arousing minutes of just sitting and gazing at her face and figure Paul held his breath as he reached out toward her. His fingers trembled with excitement as they grasped the top ivory button and turned, releasing it free of its slit. Her lips parted slightly, but she did not speak, nor make any sound. Her face turned slightly to the left, but only slightly.

His fingers then moved slowly downward to the second button, released that one and paused. He continued to stare into her face, watching for any resistance, but found none.

One by one the eleven buttons came away from their bindings in his hand until finally her royal blue suit-coat hung loosely on and over her fine form. The bright red colouring of her bra against the contrasting black skin showed clearly to his eager and hungry gaze.

He stiffened in his groin instantly at the sight of her breasts. They overflowed their inadequate bright red cups, yet were not fat, just full and solid. Only once during the unbuttoning had her brow creased, but soon after had relaxed, never to move again in the entire process.

Paul stood slowly up and leaned over her to one side. He reached down and grasped her coat from the front and slowly peeled it back over her shoulders, pulling it gently down over her arms until it came away for her body and free. He folded it carefully, placing it neatly at the end of her seat.

Next he reached down her long and well-muscled shiny black back, carefully and gently releasing the bra clip. Then he sat back down again on his own seat and faced her. The slim red bra straps were being held in place only loosely between her limp arms and her body.

He reached for them, gently lifting her arms slightly and pulled them through and away. He placed the red bra at the end of the seat with the blue coat.

Upon sitting back down opposite her again Paul gazed in awe at her now naked breasts. They were the most beautiful, most wondrous breasts he had ever seen on any woman alive, black or otherwise.

They were Amazonian, but without a trace of fat. Each extended fully, jutting proudly and magnificently outward from her chest, nipples long and even blacker. They pointed and were already stiff and erect. It took every ounce of self-control Paul could muster not to bury his face in those two temples of black meat right there and then.

He wanted desperately to suckle those long dark nipples into the heated depths of his throat, down to oblivion, while joining them there himself.

His famished gaze scoured the soft curves of each black breast’s underbelly, his mind wondering in amazement at how many different shades of the colour black he could see right in front of his eyes.

Her midnight shining flesh was absolutely mouth-watering to him as he watched in pained acceptance of having to force himself to go slowly and not ravish and savage her like a wild captive animal where she sat.

Paul just couldn’t stop a groan of anticipated pleasure from escaping his dry mouth. He froze instantly and held his breath, but she stirred not, just sat there, relaxed and calm, naked and nude from her muscular, yet relaxed, flat belly to the top of her jet-black head. He noticed her belly was as flat as a board.

His eyes then roamed over her hair. It was black, long and thick, and curly, but had obviously had some straightening done to it in some way. The long black locks flowed down over her muscled black shoulders, with some cascading down over the top of her gorgeous left breast, reaching almost to the deliciously extended charcoal teat.

Paul studied her stunningly beautiful face for several long moments before finally succumbing to his own body’s natural demands of the moment. Content she was breathing naturally and remaining very relaxed physically in her deep trance he moved forward off his seat.

He sank slowly to his knees before her, like a slave in worship to his Goddess, his eyes almost level with those Amazonian black mammary glands.

His phoenix had risen from the very depths of his ashes of his forced-celibacy of late and now screamed and demanded to be set free and let fly. It pulsed and throbbed and twitched against his skin, even after he had adjusted himself for more comfort in allowing his standing part to do just that inside his trousers... stand.

And beneath his loose trouser covering did that part of him continue to twitch and jerk of its own volition, signalling him with its own behavioural language that certain events would soon have to take place or he would suffer the consequences... in liquid abundance.

With a mouth as dry as the Sahara desert and holding his breath Paul’s trembling fingers reached out, each one directing itself unconsciously toward each beautiful and enormous black breast.

As his hands approached each one he could feel the heat of her glistening jet-black skin transferring across and through to his fingertips. When finally they touched her black shining flesh he groaned softly as each finger accepted every ounce of heat those wonderful, gorgeous breasts had to offer.

He groaned involuntarily then, from deeply in his gut, his shaft jerking from the depths of his contracting testicles. It no longer demanded... it threatened.

His mentally captive black princess stirred with his full touch on each of her large, full breasts.

He froze instantly, rooted to the spot. Then he triggered her quickly back down to a deeper relaxed state by gently and softly clearing his throat several times. She settled slowly and then sighed.

Images of her waking up and seeing what he was doing and how she was dressed brought even more distressing visions to his fevered mind and imagination; vivid images of several short, sharp spears slicing and dicing painfully into his body in all the wrong places.

But he had gone too far to stop now and he knew it. For some reason he felt in his heart that knowing her so intimately would be worth it. But as he watched and sweated blood, she sighed deeply again, then visibly relaxed.

He waited several long minutes more, just to satisfy himself that all was well before proceeding further. His hands remained resting lightly on each breast, covering each firm nipple. Then his eyes dropped down from studying her as he leaned his flushed face slowly forward toward the wondrously exciting objects of his rapidly mounting desire.

As he squeezed and gently lifted the Amazonian breasts of his dark Princess his face closed wholly on and over them. Instantly his charcoal Amazon frightened him with yet another sudden sigh as he cupped and lifted her heavy black weights.

Then she stirred again, her brow creasing. Paul triggered her down again by gently and softly clearing his throat. After a few agonizing moments she sighed deeply and relaxed again.

Then finally, and with a low guttural groan Paul’s impatient mouth opened wide and his long-readied tongue whipped and lashed his dry lips quickly as his lips closed the perfect seal mouth completely over her glistening soft black flesh of breasts.

As his hot lips met her black warm black flesh and began to draw her into his mouth she moaned immediately and sank fully backward, collapsing against the back of the seat.

He triggered her down in a commanding tone, which seemed to calm her instantly, but her unexpected movement startled him and put him off-balance. He leaned forward and went down and back with her, laying his upper torso forward over her, his lips tightening on the flesh of her right breast.

His mouth sucked more of the musky meat deeply into his mouth to hold on to as she settled completely relaxed against the seat back, and, in so doing, he drew even more of her deliciously huge breast deeply into his hungry mouth.

For that moment in time then Paul lost his planning, his senses and all his self-control. He sucked savagely on her black flesh, relishing the primitive and musky taste of her own scent. He imaged two snarling Black Panthers in his mind’s eye of the earlier vivid fantasy.

Inhaling deeply of her own special musk her saw her as the salad dressing to top all else to go with the meal of dark delicacy he was enjoying with mind, body, and soul. His hungry mouth opened wider, drawing and sucking more deeply on her flesh.

His teeth chewed black tender flesh gently awhile his tongue whip-lashed her trapped and helpless nipple, beating it mercilessly into submission. Finally he closed his teeth and tongue around it to draw it away from her chest and gaze at its long and firm black shaft.

His tone of voice with his throat-clearing triggers settled her each time the pain of his teeth on her flesh brought a texture to her moans that was not quite as he expected or had become used to.

He suckled generously, sensuously and long on that delicious and tender nipple, as if it were the choicest morsel of the most delicious food ever to greet his famished taste buds. His lips lengthened it, his sharp teeth gently riding around its circumference. Then up and down its long and rigid black shaft they raked sharply. Paul felt it stiffen and soften repeatedly, to finally tremble inside his mouth, as if it were ready to gush forth to his throat and belly its white nourishing liquid contents and feed him.

With the thought of actually drinking her hot sweet milk Paul felt his body convulse and jerk dangerously, but he was lost to the lust of his moment of now. He suckled and chewed gently on that nipple and breast, yet at times also hard and furiously. His lips felt the black stud lengthen, aware of it erecting like a pillar of pliable, soft dark steel.

Again and again and again he drew that long black teat along the length of his teeth and into his hungry mouth. He bit and he nipped and he sucked. Then he tongued it relentlessly.

He assaulted it like an impatient and ravenous baby who hadn’t been fed in months and was desperately trying to suck and draw her life-sustaining milk from the depths of her maternal feeding glands to feed him for the remainder of his time on earth. While all the while he continued triggering her back down to a more relaxed state of calm whenever he felt she was mentally rising from the depths of her enforced trance.

Paul was in heaven as he listened to her deep moans while he passionately and sensuously fed on her flesh of breast continuously until finally he released her breast back to her.

She sighed deeply with her breast’s sudden and cool freedom. Then he looked upon that which he had just fed like a wild animal. Her flesh around the stud was jet-black, swollen and prominent, but not as prominent as the long, charcoal nipple.

He reckoned instantly that the black stake must have stood almost an inch and a half outward from its base on her breast. His contrasting silver saliva smothered every pore of its length, causing the purple nipple pillar to shine and glisten like a diamond of pure sensual hardness.

The sheer, raw sensuality of the sight of that beautiful black breast and solidly engorged nipple became too much for him. Paul suddenly leaned forward and fell upon her other breast like a wild hyena feasting ravenously on its stricken and captive prey.

He sucked and bit, nipping and tonguing the warm flesh, pulling and drawing at her nipple. His strong lips and mouth tugged it with his sharp teeth, dragging it outward and away while he cupped and lifted, sucking and squeezing both large, full glands at the same time.

And all the while whenever she moaned he triggered her continuously, sending her forcibly back down time and time again to the depths of her own sensual mind to choicelessly accept the sexual sensations in her body whole that his mouthing actions on her warm flesh were inciting.

And so she remained unresisting while he attempted to swallow her entire black breast down into his hungry and aching throat. He plied and stuffed her now-sweating flesh deeply into his mouth with his trembling fingers until he could take no more as he chewed that black warm breast and nipple to maddening stiffness.

It was while Paul was chewing on a full mouthful of the most tender sweet meat dressed in black flesh he had ever had the pleasure to dine on that it happened. He had no control over it whatsoever. His throat groaned and triggered her as his swollen and aching testicles tensed too much and released with a fiery explosion.

He bit sharply on her trembling teat-nipple as he erupted. They jointly gushed their hot fiery liquid contents upward to rapidly race along the shaft of his iron-hard spear and empty copiously within the confines of his loose trousers. He pinched his eyes tightly shut, groaning bitterly in regretful sadness.

He bit and triggered and sucked in pure bliss, sheer rapture and mournful sadness as his repeatedly compressing testicles continued to erupt forth his burning seed inside his pants. Involuntarily he pressed himself against the hard edge of the seat that remained the only barrier separating his white trembling and spurting pole from its furry captive black cat.

Paul groaned over and over. His spirit soared upward and out of the carriage, high into the heavens as he pulsed his passion into indifferent-feeling cloth while he hung onto her flesh in his mouth as his only lifeline to reality so far away.

Through several long seconds he was in heaven with her and in hell with himself, feeling as if he were being cradled like he was when a child in his mother’s arms and lap.

Finally he quieted and all the while she moaned a different moan in sound to his ears, a primeval cry of unfinished sensation, as if she knew, as if she knew.

He had dined sumptuously on her breasts so fine and so sweet and in return he had given of his own hot white wine, wasted on uncaring cloth. But he had given, nevertheless and he was content now in his own afterglow as he rested and settled with her gentle moans and quieting breathing.

His flushed face lay fully upon her chest; his mouth still engorged with her warm and scented salty black teat.

Then, slowly, after several long and satisfying minutes with his mouth, lips and teeth still attached to her succulent black breast and long sucking-nipple like a babe in arms he released her black skin and flesh from his mouth and sighed deeply.

Then, surprising him so did she. Then he relaxed completely, resting the side of his face heavily and lazily upon those warm cushions and comfortable pillows upon which he had just fed so ravenously and so completely.

For the moment, Paul was full, sated, and content; but only for the moment. He rested there happily on her chest and breasts while listening and feeling the old train clank and rattle and rock and sway its way along the top of the mountain ridge before commencing its long and slow journey downward again.

Once descending it would wind its way eventually coastward as it made its slow way downward. Paul was so relaxed with the release of so much of his own sexual tension he hadn’t even noticed that one of her strong black hands had at some time come to rest upon the back of his head. It cradled him as she would her own baby. Her long black fingers had entwined themselves in his hair as she unconsciously stroked his skull, deepening his present peace of mind.