The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

California, Interstate 15: 2056

Ray had the black tinted window Ferrari humming once he hit Interstate 15 the nose of the cherry red vehicle pointed east towards his final destination of Baltimore, Maryland. He had it up to sixty in no time, then eighty then one hundred. Even though the car could drive itself he loved the feel of the powerhouse engine under his control, executing any and every whim and move that his superior brain synapse transferred to his body and hand and then the vehicle. His reflexes were even superior to the computer driver. He was so attuned to the slick handling and horse power of the car he felt at one with it as though it were an extension of his will. It was as though the machine was another of his thralls, only made of metal instead of flesh. And as with his thralls, he made all the decisions of what it would do and how it would respond. He loved it. Technology thrilled him no end in all its forms and with each new awakening humans brought him more toys to enhance his life, to increase his pleasure.

But now the experience of driving that he usually found so soothing was no respite for the foul cloud that enveloped him. He was in a deep funk that even the car could not shake. He felt fidgety and nervous, so completely out of character with his usual sangfroid. His mind kept drifting back to Sammi and the events that had transpired on Gatsby night and to the emptiness the loss of Staci engendered in him.

Sammi had been a rara avis. In all his years never had he met a human so pure in thought and mind and he suspected he would never meet another like her no matter how long he lived. She truly was the opposite side of his own coin. As the night had gone along he had not intended to kill her but let her go into the world and live her very unusual life. Yet Brad had forced his hand. He had given the damn boy every single chance to save himself and his sister yet he had failed over and over again. He had planned to research Sammi at his next awakening, to see what had become of her, where her life had led. But now that was not necessary for she was just another in the endless series of corpses left in his wake.

But Ray wondered did the boy’s actions really have to predicate Sammi’s death? Was following the rules of the game a sine qua non that could not be bent or shifted even to achieve the outcome Ray had desired?

And Ray questioned if this event had taken place hundreds of years ago would he have found a way to save Sammi no matter how inept Brad was? He pondered if it was possible his strange, herky jerky time traveling, lonely life had calcified his wondrous mind? He had always been so quick to adapt any situation, always so fluid to his ends that he always achieved the result he desired. What had gone wrong this time? Was it paramount that the rules of the game and honor be satisfied over all other considerations? Was it always so with him? Was he still the same person he was six hundred years ago, nine hundred? This troubled him deeply.

Yet there was even more. Every instinct in his mind and body kept telling him he had made a dangerous, egregious error in killing Sammi. And one thing Ray knew was to trust those instincts like the finely tuned radar they were. They had never been wrong and never let him down. It was one reason he had survived so long among a world filled with enemies.

And yet he could see no possible danger. He rolled the situation over in his mind again and again. Soon he would make his three hundred year escape from humanity and all those he had met in this life would die and turn to dust including the police who would investigate Sammi’s death. He left no trail to where he was going now. The house was in a false name, no trace of him or the girls were there. They had cleaned out all their personal items before they made their exodus. How could killing that one girl soon to be three hundred years in the past make his danger sirens clamor so loud and clear? He shook his head in frustration. What he felt did not make sense.

He tapped his black driving glove ensconced fingers on the steering wheel as he pushed harder on the accelerator.

His thoughts turned to the strange nature of his existence. His whole life had been useless, a series of short, futile vignettes forced upon him by his damnable sleep. He was never granted the time to pursue his grand ambitions and vision for himself or to be able to place his indelible imprimatur on the human race or its history. He was the dominant species denied culmination. It was as though he was the honored guest at the most scrumptious repast ever thrown yet allowed to only take the smallest samples of each plate while other far lesser guests gorged endlessly. He felt that frustration now more than ever before.

And he instinctively knew the danger of that situation. Every time he woke he had to play catch up, learning the history and technology of what he had missed in order to fit in and operate on the level he desired and needed to in order to survive. And every time he woke the technology had advanced further and faster.

His whole life, the entirety of his existence had been one big holding pattern, waiting for a time he could change his situation.

It had gone on so long now that time seemed to have become some weird kind of abstraction to him, beyond even his incredible mind. He felt as though he was now desperately trying to rip through the very fabric of time when he woke from his slumber. It seemed like he was out of his range, like some vestige of a long gone era thrust into some new and forbidden world.

Yet he knew he must go on to get to where he desired. Plunge ahead one last time. If his calculations were correct he would finally defeat his most hated, dogged opponent when he awoke this time. And he knew beyond doubt his calculations were spot on.

Ray pondered this for a long time, his eyes narrowing and his grip on the steering wheel growing tighter and tighter.

“Holding pattern, hesitation wounds,” he said softly to himself.

He sat silently, listening to massive car engine hum its approval at how Ray was pushing.

Yes he was from a long ago age, an age almost unrecognizable in this new world of technology yet hadn’t he always adapted and learned so quickly, mastering every discipline to survive and thrive? His mind was so facile and adept. He would never allow himself to become a relic of a bygone era. He knew this was so.

He spoke again aloud, his face a mask of thought and concentration. “Holding pattern, something’s gotta give….history is dying…future’s gotta live…gotta live.”

He reached out and turned the car radio on hoping music would sooth him and bring peace.

He tried some classical music but it didn’t have its usual effect. He moved on to rock and roll yet again he found no relief. Once again his thoughts returned to Staci and Sammi. He couldn’t shake them from his mind.

The car’s speed rose, first to a hundred and ten then a hundred and twenty miles an hour on this black night.

Ray wasn’t concerned if a cop pulled him over for he was in a deep, dark dangerous killing mood.

He forced his thoughts to his destination, Baltimore Maryland and what waited for him there, his destiny, the entire future outline of his next existence and how much his life would be changed. But before he could really start to travel this avenue, become immersed in it, swirl all the ramifications and possibilities that were now so close to his grasp in his mind something caught his eye: a car abandoned on the side of the road.

He blew past it, roaring at one hundred and twenty miles an hour but not a single thing escaped his predator’s eyes. It was a little blue sports car and it had a flat. It was a young woman’s car, the kind of low powered sports car a girl starting out in life bought because she could afford the real deal and suddenly he sensed an opportunity thrown in his lap, a chance for some fun and games and a diversion from his previous frustration and anger.

Ray immediately pulled the car back to heel, slowing down to fifty. He looked in the mirror to make sure he looked just right. Staring back at him was an amazingly beautiful man in his mid thirties. A thick lock of black hair fell over his forehead giving him an attractive, nonchalant, devil may care veneer. He looked himself over good and hard then smiled, so pretty, so boyish and so irresistible. Perfect, just perfect, he thought.

He looked eagerly down the road, far ahead of the reach of his headlights. He didn’t need them to see the road anymore than a hyena needed its eyes to sense blood. He could see as well in the dark as the day.

And there she was, a girl walking down the side of the road, about a thousand yards away.

As he drew closer he could get an outline of her body, the shape of it, how it moved, the speed and gate of her, the movement of her muscles. He could tell from all this that she was young and he smiled. He suddenly found his mood improving considerably all thoughts of Sammi and Staci gone with a new game on the horizon.

He speculated on some scenarios to play here and quickly alighted upon one.

He tooled up to the woman slowly and came to a stop. He lowered the passenger window. She poked her head in, smiling. She was very cute with short black hair, no more than twenty four years old.

He lazily raised an eyebrow and grinned back. “Well hello there darlin’. Guess that was your filly that threw a shoe back up yonder,” he asked with a syrupy southern accent.

She laughed at the way he put it, all that southern blarney. “Yep, she’s mine. Now I’m out of the saddle.”

The vampire admired her response. She was quick. “Where ya headin’?”

“Well, I was driving to my sisters. We were going to do a girls night out. Got a flat and no spare and my cell isn’t charged. Guess it’s not my night.”

He gave her a boyish smile and an arched eyebrow. “Not necessarily. You would be surprised how things can change. Where does your sister live?”

“Just five exits down. Exit 35. If you have a cell I can call her and have her come out to get me.”

“Nonsense,” he replied. “That would be ungentlemanly of me to the both of you. As a son of the south honor dictates I take you. Climb aboard my steed and I’ll have you there before a hen can lay an egg.” He patted the passenger seat with his leather gloved hand.

She laughed again. Was this guy real? He was so sweet in a corny way. Who was he?

“Is this a…..Ferrari?” she asked.

He winked at her. It was so cute. He seemed like such a little boy. “Yes Ma’am, she is. A small part of a lifetime of ill gotten gains…..inherited from daddy.” She giggled and jumped in.

She was wearing a nice short skirt and lovely tight blouse that showed off nice assets. Girls night out indeed, he thought. And he wondered what her sister looked like.

When she closed the door he held out his hand. She took it. “My name is…Elvis. What would you be called, darlin’?”

She laughed. Elvis? This was too much. “My name is Lucy.”

He immediately began to send his tendrils into her mind, slowly beginning the first phase of his insidious influence.

“Well Miss Lucy, you are as lovely as a well of cool spring water after a hot day branding steers. It is my pleasure to offer you this small bit of aid. To be honest, I can’t say I am sad that I happened along this trail when your filly threw her shoe or that she even picked this time to throw it.”

Lucy shook her head. “Oh my god. You are something else. You talk like this to everyone?”

He smiled at her. His eyes were so sharp, so unique, so arresting. They were so dark, seemingly pure black but so friendly and welcoming. Lucy had never seen any like them. She found herself staring into them like a bonfire on a dark night. It was like they had a pull to them apart from the man himself. She gave his face a good once over. He was very handsome, even better looking than she first thought.

“Fraid so Ma’am. My Texas upbringing leaves me no choice. Try not to hold it against me. Strap yourself in and I’ll give her the whip and get you into the lovin’ arms of your sister.”

Lucy dragged her eyes from his, almost sad to do so and buckled up her seatbelt. She quickly turned back to him. She found she really enjoyed looking at him, listening to his soothing southern accent.

He pulled out, going nice and easy.

“So your name is really Elvis”

He nodded and grinned. She could see the undercurrent of embarrassment on his incredibly handsome face. It only made him more winsome.

“Sure is. But it’s worse than that.”

“What do you mean?”

“My last name is Presley.”

Lucy slapped her thigh and laughed. “No! You have got to be kidding!”

“Fraid not. My daddy had a certain sense of humor. Prickly you might say, kinda like the thorn on a cactus.” He laughed softly. “His jokes tended to cut and he laid a lifetime pain on me. It gave him no end of amusement.”

She gazed at him. Her estimation of his looks rose yet again. He looked like a Greek god. Fuck is he good looking…. Lucy thought. She swallowed hard. He actually looks a bit like Elvis……but…..better. The best looking man I’ve ever seen…..by far, she realized.

“I think it suits you. You shouldn’t be embarrassed about it. It’s sweet really.” she said.

He chuckled lightly. It sounded like music to Lucy. “At this stage of my life the shaming is gone but I have to tell you Miss Lucy, when I was in school the other kids didn’t make it a fun rodeo. They thought going to school with Elvis Presley was just a hoot and a holler all at my expense.”

“Kids can be mean. They shouldn’t have done that,” she jumped to his defense, her voice a little stronger than she intended. She felt embarrassed and looked down at hands that were fidgeting with each other. “I wouldn’t have done that to you,” she finished quietly, almost talking to herself.

“I really do appreciate that Miss Lucy. And I do believe it. That’s because you are as sweet as a fresh slice of warm honey buttered bread popped right out of the stove.”

Lucy glanced back up at him and blushed deeply. Such a lovely compliment. He’s such a gentleman.

“Besides, that makes you The King, right? So all those high school kids can shove that up their ass!” said Lucy, suddenly feeling a strong compulsion to return his compliment.

He snickered approval at her feisty remark in his defense. He liked that. It told him something about her. She was a fighter. He liked that too. “Yes, I guess in a fashion it does.” And someday soon for real young Lucy. A real king over all of humanity. My destiny.

“So um…what do you do for a living?” She was finding him more and more interesting by the moment. She wanted to learn all about him.

He drummed his leather clad fingers on the steering wheel for a moment. His face had a faraway look as though reliving in a fond memory. She wondered what he was thinking. He shot her a sideways glance. His face showed a wry amusement.

“Well Miss Lucy, I guess one might say I’m in the extraction business. That would be the sum of it. That’s how I make my living, how I have all the things in my corral.”

“You mean like gas or oil?”

He thought about this for a moment, ruminating on how gas and oil powered things. Very similar to what blood and emotion did for him. Finally he nodded and replied with enthusiasm. “Why yes Miss Lucy, just like gas and oil. You put it so well.”

Lucy could feel her face flush. “Are you up here on business?”

“Yep.” He jabbed his thumb back to the road behind them. “Just finished up a piece of business back in LA. Now I’m high tailing it over to Baltimore. One more steer to tie up before I can rest.”

She felt her heart sink. One short ride and she would never see him again. She really liked this man.

“And what do you do, Ma’am, if you don’t mind my askin’”

Lucy hated to even answer. This man was rich and powerful, a big man, one of the strong steel spokes that made the wheels of the world turn. It all made her feel so inadequate.

“I’m an administrative assistant for a publishing company,” she managed to squeak out.

“A publishing company!” he beamed. “Books! Why books are just the most marvelous things. The help us travel to faraway places, introduce us to new and interesting ideas and thoughts, they put the imaginations of so many others out there for us to partake in. Do you know how much joy you help give people Miss Lucy? Without books….why, without books…” he again seemed lost in some other place. Finally he continued. “Without books life would be so parochial and drab.”

Lucy blushed, surprise by his strong enthusiastic response. She wasn’t much of a reader but wasn’t about to tell Elvis that. It seemed to mean so much to him. But he knew for the vampire was already in her mind, picking through who and what she was like a midnight thief rummaging through the rooms of a house he had broken into unseen. And he was exerting more and more control over her.

Lucy giggled at his odd compliment. Did he like her? Could it possibly be? They may be parting soon but perhaps he would take her number. He was rich after all and not bound by the constraints of normal people. He could always come see her anytime he wished……

She felt goose bumps break out on her arms and she shivered as she fantasized. Then she shook her head. Damn Lucy, get a freaking grip on yourself. You’re not some silly high school girl with some stupid crush.

She glanced at Elvis and found him looking at her with the most peculiar, knowing smile. She blushed again. “So what are you and your sister’s plan for this fine evening?” They way he looked at her, spoke to her, it was like she was the most important person he had ever met. It was so flattering.

“It’s a celebration. She had leukemia but is now totally free of it. We plan on hitting the town and really tying one on tonight. It’s like a whole new lease on life for her and for me.”

Ray stared ahead into the road as he spoke. “Leukemia. That’s a real killer. I’m so glad she made it. What is her name?”

“Her name is Rita. Yes, when she was diagnosed I thought I was going to lose her. I was so scared, a basket case. She is my soul mate and best friend. But they used this new treatment, a genetic tool to shut off the disease. Her doctors told us that soon leukemia will be a thing of the past just like lung cancer was cured.”

This caught Ray’s attention. He turned to Lucy with intense interest. “Genetic treatment? Tell me more.”

Lucy nodded. “Yes, it was a very involved process. I really didn’t understand all the technical stuff but basically they found defective mutated genes that she had that caused the disease and changed them, repaired them. Once the source was cut off the leukemia went away. It’s like a miracle.”

Ray turned back to the road. “Yes, a technological miracle. It’s amazing what science is doing now. Think about what it will accomplish in the future.”

Lucy reached into her hand bag and pulled out a small, exquisitely etched and painted Japanese porcelain figurine.

She held it up to Ray her cute young face blooming with excitement. “I’m giving this to Rita as a present. She will love it.”

Ray took it from her and gave it a very close once over. It was the figure of young Japanese woman. Her face and clothes were amazingly detailed. He could tell it was the work of a very adept and talented artist. What puzzled him was the suction cup at the bottom of the figure.

“What is it?”

“It’s kind of like an expensive bobble head doll. But a figurine.”

“Bobble head doll?”

She laughed. “You don’t know what a bobble head doll is?”

“Fraid the name escapes me Miss Lucy.”

“Wow. You must the only person in America who doesn’t know. Here let me show you.” She gave him a warm, amused very lovely smile. “Then tell me what you think.”

Lucy retrieved the doll from Ray, licked the bottom of the suction cup and stuck it on the dashboard.

“OK Elvis, now push it with your finger.”

Elvis reached out and pushed it. The pretty Japanese girl started to sway and dance.

The vampire’s watched the motion of the doll then broke out into a delighted grin. “Oh my, that is a real fun rodeo! Why it’s cuter than the baby barn owl I had as a pet!”

But inside Elvis felt alarmed. Just as Lucy had said, he must have been the only person in America who didn’t know what the figurine was and what it did. And this was because there was no way to learn everything he had missed during his sleep. It was simply an impossible task. So many little things you only knew about and learned by living years in a place, experiencing and absorbing its culture. How many other things out there existed, that were common knowledge to everyone that he did not even know existed? It was not a good situation.

“Why this? Does Miss Rita collect these….bobble figurines?”

Lucy giggled. “That’s a long story. See when we were little kids she loved them. She started a collection. They were all over the damn house! So of course I hated them. Then as a joke when we got older she started buying them for me for Christmas or my birthday because I always teased her about it. So I started doing the same to her.”

Lucy shook her head with amusement. “But then something funny happened. She started to get me more expensive ones. So naturally I had to one up her.” She laughed. Elvis thought she had a very pretty laugh, musical and girlish and so open to her feelings. “So this one I found online. I looked so long for something really special. You know, to celebrate the leukemia thing. Finally I found just the right doll, made by a Japanese master craftsman. Hand forged and painted. It cost five hundred dollars!” she said with pride. Elvis could tell from the sound of her voice and the look on her face and in her eyes that Lucy loved her sister so very much.

“Miss Rita will love it,” he said, watching the doll dance. Yet despite the pride in Lucy’s voice he felt something else in her, an undercurrent of unhappiness. And sure enough after a moment she elaborated.

“It’s special. It will always remind her of how she won her fight,” replied Lucy. She paused then continued. “There was another one, more beautiful than this one. It was incredible. But it cost three thousand dollars.” She looked down almost guiltily. “As much as I wanted to get it for her….I couldn’t afford it….” she trailed off.

Elvis looked Lucy in the eyes. Inside her mind he could feel how much she had wanted to get the more expensive doll for Rita. It bothered her a great deal that she could not afford it. This resonated with him in way. He would have wanted to do the same for Staci. He understood her frustration at the defeat life had inflicted on her in this important, emotional moment in her young life. Just as his desires had been thwarted by his sleep so too had Lucy’s been denied her by finances. Deep down she was hurting and he could feel it. For Lucy, Rita’s happiness was the paramount consideration in her mind. He smiled softly to himself. He had no doubt her priorities in life would change very radically, very shortly.

“This doll is perfect,” he replied, soothing her feelings out with a push of his mind. “She knows how much you love her. That is the true gift from you. That is all that matters.”

Lucy nodded, Elvis’ control now making her feel better. “Yes, you’re right,” she said in a voice suddenly grown dreamy soft. “She knows how much I love her….that is all that matters...”

Elvis reached out and removed the doll from the dashboard. He placed it carefully back in Lucy’s purse.

Elvis had fallen deeply in love with the beauty of modern music. It spoke to him on so many levels and was one the most exquisite joys humanity had given him. But he also had found a different use for it. He discovered he loved to seduce a victim to sounds of music and particular songs, each picked out for a different victim. He loved matching a girl to just the right sound and lyrics for a particular situation. He discovered the exercise to be extremely erotic and sensual, a type of art in itself and he enjoyed it immensely. A slow burn art that heightened his arousal along with his victims.

And now it was Lucy’s turn for the treatment.

“Care for a bit of ridin’ music?” he asked. “Miss Lucy, I love to drive and listen to music. Would you mind if I put on the radio?” He pushed even harder into her mind, slipping his thoughts into her head, making his ideas and wishes hers.

Care for anything you want me to care for, Lucy thought sluggishly. She felt so good, almost like being high. It was so weird but she was enjoying this whole conversation immensely.

She let out a little giggle. “Sure,” she murmured softly. Music sounded fucking great right now: Just the perfect thing. She looked at him and smiled. Her smile felt goofy and kind of stoned. She wanted to say something smart, to impress him. “You can do whatever you want,” she said, her voice now holding a subtle strain of girlish invitation. “It’s not every day that I get to go riding with Elvis Presley.” She giggled, giddily. “It’s an honor to be here with you.”

He put a gentle finger on her lips. “Shush now. The honor of this ride is all mine. You know Miss Lucy, I always felt every filly had a song just for her. I think every girl deserves her special song. Don’t you think? I bet there is a special song for you too.”

Lucy shivered at the words, the tone of his voice. A song just for me….. she thought dreamily. Yes….every girl deserves her own song……

She gazed at him mouth slightly ajar. He was the most romantic man she had ever met. She tried to respond but her brain was so tingly and her tongue felt like a block of lead in her dry mouth. Finally she got the words out. “Wh….wha…what kind of…s….song would you pick for me?”

“You are a mighty fine filly of high stock. Look at that build, that face. You would bring top price at any auction. You would like that, wouldn’t you Miss Lucy, to be up on that block and auctioned off to the high bid for your new owner?”

“Oh yeahhhhh…” she whispered. She could picture herself on the block, the auctioneer jacking up the bids waiting for her new owner.

He gave her a lazy, knowing grin. “But you’re no work filly. No Lucy, you’re a show filly. You are so fiery. You love to prance about, head held high, showing off that body, those tits, that fine round ass.”

Lucy’s eyes fluttered then closed. Mmmmmm……. I do. I love to prance around and show off my tits and ass.

She imagined herself on the auction block, dressed to show off her body, to seduce and fuck and suck. She pictured herself on a stand, high up where all the bidders could get a good long look her at her body, her curves, her muscles, her smooth skin, so exposed and sensual: A lace bra that hid nothing, pink lace panties and stockings held nice and tight with garters and wearing shoes with impossibly towering heels to accentuate her caves and make her hard ass stick out. She could see herself standing there being shown off, shoulders and arms held back, her back arched, tits thrust forward, head held high, all for close inspection, then prancing, strutting about on command while the buyers made their competing bids. And if the bidders inspected chattel Lucy really close, they would notice the moisture staining her pink panty and slowly running down her firm curvy thigh.

Lucy’s heart leapt at a new thought! What if she wore a pink leather choker! It would have a metal ring in it and from that ring would be a hard, cold steel chain running to a pole. Like all chattel and sold stock she should not be allowed to move too far away from the interested buyers.

Lucy rubbed her thighs together in the car seat. Suddenly the car seemed really warm inside. Really really warm. Had the heat been turned up? She giggled. I know my heat sure the fuck has been turned up! Lucy licked her lips. She suddenly had another vision: Of her being the cars heating unit and Elvis cranking her up the max. Lucy felt a trickle of sweat run down between her boobs. It felt so wet and good as it worked it’s down her tingling skin. She felt wet and so very good.

Then yet another thought invaded her now very feverish mind. She wasn’t wearing a choker, oh no. Instead she had a nose ring in her nostrils from where the chain led to the pole. And the hard metal of her nose ring was pink to match her soaked panties!

She could see all the bidders leering at her, checking her out for her assets, what her worth to them would be. And right there up front, eyes twinkling, a gorgeous, knowing sneer pulling on one side of lips was Elvis. She looked out at him, a pleading look on her face. Buy me! Oh please buy me! Please let it be you! I can’t live without you!

She dropped down to all fours, crawling toward him, groveling at him, the ring in her nose pulling painfully at her as she reached the end of the chain, holding her head high on her long neck. Yet somehow the pain felt good, it felt right. She was just a stock animal after all.

Then from down in the crowd he winked at her, so confident, so beautiful.

This was too much for her. Her hard abs buckled and twitched involuntarily making her ass and back spasm.

“Oh god,” she moaned loudly, lewdly her eyes fluttering prettily.

Elvis had been watching her the whole time. Her pretty brown eyes were now wide open and blank. “But there’s even more to you, isn’t there my little filly? Something else inside you that you never realized before.”

She nodded, eyes becoming half lidded, smiling. “More…” she agreed. There was something she had never realized about herself. Lucy didn’t know what it was but Elvis would tell her and then she would know. Elvis knew everything.

Nothing mattered to her now but what he was saying. It was so important to hear his words and let them sink in, guide her, define who she was. She wanted to drown in them till there was nothing left but them.

And Elvis had things to say. “Even though you are a fiery show filly, you love the feel of the bit in your mouth, the commanding hands on your reins, the saddle on your back, the hard whip of your owner striking your naked flanks, directing and driving you to his will. Deep inside we both know you want to be broken.”

“Oh….god….yessss….” she moaned. I doooo…I love the bit in my mouth, the saddle on my back and the whip on my naked flanks. I need to be driven and directed to my owners will. She imagined Elvis riding her hard, so fucking hard, whipping her taut ass till it was raw and bleeding, till she was a sweating, moaning, mindless mess, using the whip when he wanted to push her even harder over the edge till she was completely played out.

“I….want to be broken,” she gurgled with feverish, girlish need.

Lucy’s hands moved involuntarily to her bare thighs. They were so warm now, the skin and muscle burning up. She smelled a pungent odor rise up from between her legs to her nose and realized it was her pussy, now so very wet and juicy. Her arousal smelled great. Like her auction fantasy, she was now wet as a dank dishrag. He had to smell it too. Elvis must think she was such a ready slut. Getting so wet in front of a man she had just met. This idea turned her on even more, made her proud.

“I do believe you have sprung a leak between those fine graceful colt legs, Miss Lucy,” Elvis said with a smirking voice.

She blushed, then moaned and giggled. Elvis laughed with her. God we are so much alike, she thought hearing his laughing approval. She had never thought of herself as a slut before but hearing Elvis talk about her condition there was nothing she craved more than to be his easy slut. She was a slut. She suddenly realized she always had been a slut; that prancing filly that showed off and needed to be guided and ridden hard to exhaustion by a hard, commanding hand. And now she was his slut.

“I think I have the song for you Miss Lucy. Want to give it a spin on the ole jukebox?”

She had to swallow hard just to talk. She looked at him, her eye lids so heavy that she knew they were half closed. She thought she must appear very sexy like that and it made her happy. She wanted to look sexy, slutty for him, he liked that, wanted her that way. She just knew he did. “Yes Elvis, I do, more than anything in the world….please….le…let me…h…hear It. I need it. My…..special…song…” she murmured.

“I always obey beautiful girl’s wishes,” he replied turning on the stereo.

In just a moment the song started: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZHHEmd5mECY

And as the first words spilled out from the premium sound system Lucy’s heart starting pounding in her chest: Elvis was singing the words to her!

Lucy never heard a voice like Elvis’ as he sang to her, only to her! It was so smooth, so syrupy and so full of emotion and….simmering heat. It was the sound of pure animal, mindless, uncontrollable desire of the body. It sounded like what was happening between her legs.

And he gave her just that. That little boy smile. It was perfect. She sighed gazing at it. But underneath it was also something else; nothing any little boy would ever have on his mind. It was the purview of a man’s desires only. And it translated to the carnal, hot needy female desires only a man could satisfy. And that made Lucy start to pant.

His eyes were shining with total command.

The words swirled in her mind pushing everything else out. Her thighs and legs were shivering and quaking, so weak like fresh made jello. A new religion. Yes, he’s my new religion. If I was standing I would fall to my knees before him…glady. Lucy wanted to. She wanted to fall to her knees for him. Just keep falling and falling and falling until she wasn’t even there anymore.

As he continued to sing to her he took the black leather driving glove off his right and reached out, placing his bare hand on her now sweaty thigh. He started running his fingers along her firm, warm silky skin just as he had with steering wheel moments ago. Lucy arched her back, her eyes closing at the same time her mouth opened in a big O shape. It was like a spark of electricity coming from his touch, firing up her leg into her pussy and then her brain. She never felt anything so good.

When he put his hand up her skirt near her pussy she came. He didn’t even have to touch it, just to come close was enough. Her whole body shook and quivered totally out of her control. Her toes and fingers curled up as her brain exploded in dopamine overdose. The sounds escaping her throat were unintelligible.

He kept looking at her with those gorgeous black eyes as she came, still singing softly, just for her, with her special song, serenading her amazing orgasm making it last even longer.

When the song ended she collapsed against his arm, nuzzling it with her cheek and nose, making little cooing sounds, breathing his incredible scent deeply into her lungs. She wanted to suffocate in that smell. He ran his hand gently through her hair, eyes back on the road, not bothering to return the longing stare she now gave him.

“Elvis….”

“Yes,” he replied all the former sweetness and emotion in his voice now gone dead flat, the southern accent gone. Lucy didn’t care about that. She was so fucking lost in him now.

She tried to push the words out but it was hard. What if he didn’t feel the same way? She would simply die. She couldn’t live without this man.

“I….I…..love you.”

He still would not look at her but instead gazed at his reflection in the rear view mirror. A cold, arrogance graced his sensual lips. He preened, running his hand through his thick black hair.

“I understand,” he rejoined, his formally sweet eyes now hard obsidian his sweet voice now like a distant winters chill. “I’m an easy man to fall in love with. It’s always been that way with me. You never really had a choice” he said with sure confidence, his voice offhand as though her feelings were such an trivial thing for him to control and twist. “But do you really think you can love me totally? Give me everything you have to offer without holding a thing back?”

Lucy couldn’t take her eyes off his dismissive face. The way that smirk played on those amazing, sexy so kissable lips, the offhand way he ran his hand through that lustrous shiny ink black hair. Seeing the arrogance of him, the strength of his belief in himself and how easily he felt he could seduce her only made him seem more attractive. She was nothing compared to him. He was everything. He could treat her anyway he wanted and she would only love him more for it. Her heart was pounding in her breasts and ears, her blood running hot, coursing through her veins, her cunt soaking wet for his touch, that sexy mouth, his hard, hot cock.

She wrapped her arms around him desperately tight. Her voice was high and scratchy and pleading. “No! I do! I love you so much baby. I will offer you anything! You are right. So, so right! I want the bit in my mouth. I need to feel your hands on my reins controlling me, your whip on my ass. I need you to ride me whenever you want. Ride me like a slut. Please Elvis. Break me. Break me till I’m what you want me to be. I’ll give you anything you want! All of me. Please, please believe me!”

Elvis kept looking ahead at the road not giving her desperate face even the smallest of glances. “Exit 35 coming up Lucy. I’ll have you at your sisters in just a moment.”

Lucy reached out with her hands, caressing his face, soaking in the exquisite feel of his skin, his jaw. “No! I want to stay with you! Please, I’m begging you. Let me stay. I can’t live without you. I need you so much.” Lucy could hear how pathetic and whiny she sounded in her pleas but something about it made her feel so turned on, so fucking horny. She like begging him. She was just a weak, soft woman and easily controlled and led. She needed him to lead and control her. It was natural that she should beg this big strong, brilliant, gorgeous man for his approval. She was helpless without him. She knew it and so did he. It was the natural way of things.

When he spoke it was with a mild curiosity. “What about your sister, Rita? You told me how close you are. Think of how worried she would be if you didn’t show up. Don’t want to put her through that, do you? That would be a horrible thing to do to the poor girl after what she’s been through. And what of your gift? Think how happy it will make her.”

Lucy almost snarled her answer. “I don’t care about her! Fuck her. She’s all grown up. She can take care of herself. I only want to be with you. I’ll do anything to prove it. Anything you want Elvis.”

Now he finally turned to her leveling a triumphant look. “I will not be passing this way again.” At least for three hundred years. “If you don’t take this exit we will not be back.”

She rubbed her head against his chest, her bare arms around his neck, desperately trying to feel as much of him as she could. “I want to be with you forever.”

He smiled at her and chuckled softly. Not forever my dear, but I guess for a few states you can be of use.

He tramped on the gas pedal leaving exit 35 quickly behind. He immediately felt Lucy relax.

She kept her hands on him, rubbing his arm, his shoulder, his face. Her gaze never left his face, not for even a moment, her eyes wide like saucers, a lazy satisfied smile on her face, shivers flowing up and down her spine like tide pools.

“Elvis, Elvis,” she kept repeating, rolling his name around in her mouth and head. All she wanted to do was say his sweet name over and over again, forever. “Who are you?”

He turned to her, his black eyes dancing with dark fire. “I am the dominant species. I am your most beautiful, desired dream and most horrific nightmare.” Then his face softened into a wistful look that made him look boyish again. He seemed to look through her, past her onto some distant horizon. “Soon I will be all things and the only person of consequence.”

“Ahhhhhh……” she moaned feeling her pussy instantly heating up again. She didn’t understand what he was talking about and she knew she had no right to ask. But for her he was already all things and the only person of consequence.

“Kiss me,” he commanded. She leaned in and did, long and deep. It was so glorious she thought her heart would stop and her lungs would dry up of air. His breath was spicy and so pleasant. As she felt his tongue invade her mouth her head started spinning like a carousel.

When they broke he glanced down between his legs. He gave her the exact same commanding, irresistibly gorgeous sneer as she saw in her auction fantasy! Lucy melted at the sight of it. “Kiss me again,” he ordered coldly, like he owned her.

She grinned up at him nervously as she quickly undid his zipper, feeling the hard cock beneath. She couldn’t get to it fast enough. She felt like she was an inexperienced horny sixteen year old school girl in the throes of her first crush again. He made her feel that way and she loved him for it.

He’s breaking his slut, her slow, turgid mind told her. It felt even hotter than she thought it would. She leaned in and unzipped his pants, removing his swollen organ. It was glorious! Every nuance and curve, the silky texture of its skin, the way it jumped and throbbed its approval of her small, hot hand. It was her dream cock! It was perfection! She fondled it over and over in her shaking hand, marveling at its beauty with glassy mile wide eyes.

Lucy could feel her salivary glands flood her mouth with spit in anticipation of that cock in her mouth, down her throat. She licked her swollen lips then let a string of spit drip down on the burning hot cock, moistening it. She ran her hand along its slick, gleaming surface, feeling so dirty and so alive. She had found her true place in the world.

She moved her head lower, rubbing the dick on her lips, her cheek and her nose. Then she opened her mouth, never taking her eyes off his face and the real kissing began.