1 comments/ 14315 views/ 1 favorites Mindless By: Poisynangel You want me. Your lust for me permeates the air between us. I know you're watching me. Your tongue darts between your lips, wetting them. I see you fidget in your seat, you're hot. The anticipation of my movements dance in your eyes. I know you want to look away but you can't. Something draws you to me. The soft sheen of my hair glints in the flickering light. You're losing focus. Don't. Do not become entranced by the subtleties. I use my body to entice you and you know it, you want it but, my love, you forget that while my soft curves mold with your hard muscles and my flesh gives way to yours it is not your body that I will own. It is your mind. Do you see now? Stand up, come to me. Sshhh, don't speak. Yes, I see you are eager to taste me. Even my light touch on your lips excites you. Mmmm do you know how I long to kiss you? I know you can hear my heart racing. Feel it. Such a simple gesture, your hand on resting on my breast. Do I frighten you? I didn't think so. Mmm yes, your hands are warm, my breasts fit perfectly in them, squeeze harder, like that. Mmmm very good. Your breath is so fast, but mine is too. I like the way you tease my nipples, the pads of your thumbs nearly covering them. You keep glancing at my lips; taunting me on purpose. I need you to kiss me. I can't believe how my body responds to you. Your breath is sweet, hot, so close to my mouth. I want to taste you. Mmm, soft, yes, too soft. I'm hungry. I want more. Don't be afraid. Taste me. I hate begging you. Why do you make me? Do you like hearing it, the pleading in my voice? I won't do it. Don't look at me like that. You still taste me on your lips, the imprint of my breasts burning in your hands. Now who begs? You can't even look at me with my dress on. I know your desire, your heat. Tell me what you want; I want to hear you say it. I wish you would tear the damn dress off! Why does it have to be so slow? Your feathery touches keep sending jolts through me. That's better. Mmm it feels good. You know, when you look at me like that it feels almost as if you're caressing me. I like what I see in your eyes. Your pleasure is apparent. I love that wicked smile. It excites me. I hate that my body betrays me. I hate it even more that you know my secrets. Look in my eyes. I know what you're thinking. Don't think of the others, I am yours tonight. Yes, they have touched me, they too have loved me but it is you I crave. Again you have me begging but this time I will allow it. Do you want me? Don't look away. Tell me. You cannot hide from me, your desire is obvious. Yes, lie down, let me undress you. Our skin beckons to one another you know. I've missed your touch. Mmm your lips too, yesss. My breasts almost reach out to them. My nipples are so hard, on fire by the touch of your tongue. You know how it feels to have my head filled with nothing but the sweet sounds of your kisses and the feel of our bodies melting together? I can never lie to you; never hide my passion for you. What is it that I see in your eyes? Wanting...mmm yes I see now. I can't get enough of you. The taste of you on my lips, you taste of lust, the salty sweet mix of sex. My wanting drives you. It drives your mouth on a winding course over my body. You blaze this trail and I cannot follow. I am left at your mercy to only experience your exploration. Can't you feel the wet heat radiating from me? Do you know what that is? What it means? You watched me all night. You let me seduce you, now you torture my flesh with your expert kisses. Mmm, lower, yes, oh god, so perfect. I don't want to give in so easily. No, no, don't stop, don't you dare stop. Yes I'm begging, whatever you wish just don't stop. It feels like a hot knife slicing through butter. You are my knife, cutting through me, exposing my weakness to your sex. It's what you want isn't it? To make me a slut? Your slut? You like it when I say that. I will be that for you, your whore as long as you keep fucking me like that, I'll be anything for you. Yes you always know. You're perfect. I love the sounds you make when you taste me there. Mmm yes I know you love to hear my moans too. I can't stop; it's starting again, the craving, the restless need. I need to taste you. Now. Please. Yesss, your mouth, your tongue, you love it when I tease it. It tastes of me, of us. I feel you. You're drawn to the damp warmth, like a bee to honey. You want it? Take it. Come to me. My control is slipping. You know this; it's why you're tormenting me. Can't you feel my desperation? I need you inside me. You are my drug and I am yours. I know that you need me too. Yes, yes that's it, more...mmm god yes. Yes, my love, I hear you. Your heated whispers leave warm imprints on my neck. You are no illusion, your kisses are real, your body is real and the thick muscle coursing inside and out is real. Though your words are sweet, your touch is not. You are an impatient lover, taking command of our bodies often leaving behind faint traces to attest to your sexual prowess. It is your mixed emotions that forces you to conquer me so. Sssh, yes I know but I am yours, do not forget that. Feel me, feel the soft heat that caresses you so tightly, easing in and out of my private depths. It is you that I open myself to. It is your name torn from my lips in my final moments of ecstasy. These thoughts only drive you harder into me. I'm caught. My body seeks release yet my soul is starving. I can't control this, you know me. I need it. I hunger for you. You know how to sate my appetite but you love watching me this way. Your control is as weak as mine. Give it to me. Mmm finally, yes, god you taste good. You like this. Watching your slut, swallow you. That sexy smile tells me all. This is better than those sad porn movies you watch. Those plastic women will never replace me. My lush body in your hands, molded and plied to fit you, doesn't come close to their stretched skin and fake nails. It's my breasts you long to roll your tongue around, my supple skin you trace with your fingers. The wet slit between my legs whispers only to you. Look at me, my mouth filled with your swollen flesh. This is your favorite part, my tongue darting in and out, up and around. Its movements mesmerize you, dancing, slowly seducing you all over again. You're coated in my honey and it mixes with the liquid dripping from your tip. I love the way we taste together. Mmm don't tease me. You can't resist these lips. Why try? Yessss mmm more, slide it over my tongue, god you taste good. Yes, I am your slut, make me swallow it. Do you want to cum in my mouth? Then tell me. Like this? You have a nice view of my ass. I hate it when I can't watch you, my face buried in the pillows. Mmm I love the warm feeling of you hands rubbing me. You always did have an appreciation for a nice round ass. Yesss, that does feel wonderful......oh! Not again....ah! Now that you've left your handprints on me, I think I need some TLC. Mmm yes your kisses make it feel much better. Oh and those kisses make it even better. You always crave the taste of me. I'm not complaining, but I you know I need more. I need you. I don't need to tell you that. The thirst that needs to be quenched. Please don't make me beg. I know you want to hear it. I want you inside me, no not your tongue. You, your cock, that big piece of meat I just sucked off. I want you to bury it inside my pussy and fuck me. Yes, yes, yes, oh god. Don't tell me you didn't want this. You thought about it all night. You would have had me spread eagle on the floor an hour ago if I had let you. It's always the same. The waiting, wanting, the flirting, the seduction and the teasing. Ultimately ending with the pleading. I want you as you want me, raw, needy, and uninhibited. I crave your force but I maintain my control. Even as I feel your muscles flexing in and around me I am manipulating you to my end. You live for it. You seek me out for these nights. These nights that I tell you what I want, when I let you exploit my sensual secrets. Keep going, don't slow down. I know you can hear my breathing coming quicker, my moans louder and more frantic. Yes, I know, my love, I hear it too. You're getting close. Harder, now, please, give it to me, pound my ass. Oh god that's it. Say it. I know you want to. I am your slut. Tell me; call you me your whore. Now say it while you cum. Shoot your hot load all over my ass and call me your fucking slut! Not finished with me yet? Mmm I won't protest. I don't have to tell you what I want. Two is not enough, mmm yesss three is better but I want four. Push them inside, ooohhhh yes. Your mouth is still hungry for mine as it always is but I want more. I'll take your tongue, yes, let me taste it again, suck it. Mmm your fingers feel so good. Yessss. The wanting is there again. I need you, now. Please. No not, hard, slow, steady, yes, that's it. Feel it? It's starting, you've taken it, you hold it in your hand. Make me cum. Now! Oh god, yes yes yes. I want to scream. I can't, your mouth is so hot. Yesssssss. Feel it? Sliding through you fingers. For you, all for you my love. Do you know what you do to me? Slowly now, I'm still pulsing around your fingers. My whole body quivers at your touch. A flick of your tongue and I'll cum all over again. Is that what you wanted? My body, my senses at your mercy? Lie down. I can't believe you're hard again so soon. Do you want me? Are you hungry for me again? Answer me. Tell me what you need. Show me, mmm do you feel my beckoning heat? Your fingers are so tight on my waist. Relax; I'm not going anywhere. Again I feel complete with you inside me. I'm swollen, my tender opening still throbbing from before. Do you like what you feel? Tell me please, I want to hear it from your mouth. Mmm yes, I like the way you say that. Ohhh yes, take them in your mouth. Yesss, bite harder. Oh god, yes. Again, yes it's happening again. No don't hold me so tight; I need to move, to ride, faster. Oh god this is agonizing. I want to cum. You want it too. I can feel it, harder now, pulsating against my own contracting muscles. Let it go, fill me with it. I know, it's hot baby. My name, yes, say it, let me hear you. Tell me how it feels. Oh god yes! I know how it feels. Paralyzing bliss, weak hunger, never ending shockwaves of pleasure. I can go on forever like this and you would love watching me writhe in delightful torment. The beating of you still inside me reverberates through my body. I must go now. What happens now? Til the next time you need me? Of course there will be others but there will always be a next time and there will always be you. Mindless Zombies of the Man WARNING: If you are looking for another story about college coeds fed drugs and reduced to sex slaves for wank fodder...this is NOT the story for you. This site it called LITerotica and this story falls in those first three letters which stands for...literature. ***** Intro: We all (yes, me too) like to fantasize about mind control as drugs, hypnosis or perhaps even Pavlovian conditioning. But the horribly honest truth is that from birth we are all subjected to a near constant dose of the damned shit. Eighteenth century philosopher Jean Jacques Rousseau, forefather of (psychology, education, environmentalism...and half a dozen more), said of children: "The noblest work in education is to make a reasoning man, and we expect to train a young child by making him reason! This is beginning at the end; this is making an instrument of a result. If children understood how to reason they would not need to be educated." - Rousseau, Emile. Yet from birth we are subjected to parental and societal strictures that demand blind obedience. And whether with words or a belt, your passions and spirit are broken, stripped from us by parents who supposedly love us, teachers who are meant to 'educate' us, religion which enslaves us, and society which believes that we are nothing more than cogs in their wheel to be controlled by those with money and power. This is the story of one man's daily survival against these odds. Its content and style maybe unusual (especially for Lit) but I make no apologies for challenging you to aspire to that REASON which Rousseau so espoused two hundred years ago. After fifty years on this planet it is something I am still seeking and rarely find. This story is one day in the life of a 'common' man, Joe Blow. You will read both his actions, words and thoughts. But along side that you will be exposed to the underlying "voices" or conditioning/mind control of life time that reigns in his head. I will not say enjoy...as this is not that kind of story. This is the horrible truth about the mind control that we are all subjected to from birth...that turns us all into "Mindless Zombies for the Man." *** Joe Blow turned over and fumbled with his phone on the nightstand. Why was it that it got harder each morning to find the damned thing and turn it off? But five-thirty came earlier each day. He woke up tired. At thirty-five, he had a lifetime of tired under his belt. *** "Get-up, sweetie. It is time to get ready for school..." "Joe, I told you to get up five minutes ago. Now get up!"... "Damn it, Joe. I told you to get up. You are going to be late for school. AGAIN!" *** Joe poured himself another cup of coffee. Was this his second or third? Did it really matter? He skimmed the latest headlines of famine and war on his laptop as his wife tried once more to rouse their sleeping son. "Joseph Blow, Junior, I told you to get your lazy butt up fifteen minutes ago. Now you are going to be late for school again. If you don't get up now then there is no computer for you afterschool. Do you hear me?" Joe shook his head. His wife sounded more and more like his mother every day. What had become of the naïve and free-spirited creature whom he had met freshman year of college? Who was this woman that slept beside him every night and woke beside him every morning? They barely spoke. And sex had become more of a weekly chore for both of them...like taking out the garbage. He sighed heavily as he closed his laptop and drained his cup of coffee. Time to face another day at the office. Not that it mattered much...he was just another mid-level manager subject to the next round of lay-offs. Hell, the company worried more about the cost of replacing their machines than they did the human lives that they held in their hands. But he had a family to support, a mortgage and car payments to make as well as the latest fashions and technology to purchase. So off he went to his job... *** "Joe, you have to do your homework before you can go outside to play. If you don't do your homework, then you will never learn anything. Then what? You will just be another beach bum like your Uncle Todd. Never doing anything important. Never making a difference in life." *** Traffic was worse than normal this morning...was that possible in LA? Joe turned the volume up on his play list. He sang along with his favorite country music singer. He loved singing. He always had. When he was a little boy he had wanted to be a singer like Hank Williams, Conway Twitty or Elvis Presley. But these days his musical escapades were limited to the shower and these long commutes to and from work. Well at least there was a bright spot to the traffic. "I think I'll take a moment, celebrate my age The ending of an era and the turning of a page Now it's time to focus in on where I go from here Lord have mercy on my next thirty years..." He crooned along with the music. The wide smile upon his face made him almost look like that little boy he had once been. *** "Joe, turn down that damned music. Your mother and I have heard enough for the day. Hell, for a lifetime. You know you can't carry a tune in a tin bucket. So stop that caterwauling and pick up a damned book. Make something of yourself when you grow up." *** Joe shook his head as he studied the sales figures on the screen. There was no easy way to avoid the obvious truth...no one bought sewing machines anymore. Especially not from Mom and Pop little shops with hours like ten to four to suit the owners and not the customers. He had been trying to reason with management for years that this business plan was draconian in the modern world of online shopping. But they would not listen, insisting that they owed loyalty to these middle men, who had once built this company into the household name that it was, rather than the end-line consumers...the few women that still sewed whether for pleasure or as a business. He typed at a quarterly sales report, trying one more time to reason with them about the need to change their business model. That direct sales of product, parts and service was the way forward. It was what customers had come to expect. If it worked for the giant computer companies and cell phone retailers, then it would work for them too. But he knew it was futile. He was just a regional manager responsible for maintaining those 'valued' relationships with the middle man that were closing shop by the dozen every week. His report would be dismissed as nothing more than the rantings of an inept manager trying to cover his ass. Hell, he would likely soon be as 'dismissed' as his reports. *** *F* Joe - I expect more of you. I know that you are capable of doing better work than this. You draw conclusions that are fabricated and not justified by the readings. Your logic and thought process are not in line with the texts. If you wish to re-write and submit something based more upon the class material, I will consider re-grading your paper. Professor Status Quo *** "Dad...PLEASE...everybody is getting one. It is the latest..." whined his nine year old son Joe, Junior about the latest electronic gadget. Joe shook his head as he read the reviews...and looked at the price. He looked up at his wife, Jane. But she merely shrugged her shoulders as she washed up as she put the dinner dishes in the dish washer. From the moment, he had come in the back door humming that tune, it had been a constant barrage of pleases and promises that he knew his son would never keep. He knew that they really did not have the money this month. Butt as the boy said...everybody was getting one. He did not want to deprive his son of anything. He did not the other children at school bullying him and making fun of his child because he could not afford to give him what they had. He opened an app on his 'latest' phone and checked the balance on one of their many credit cards. This one had some open to buy on it. Joe knew that he really should not use it up like this. The tires on his car were wearing thin. They would have to be replaced soon. And there was always that ax hanging over his head. What if... what if he was fired in the next round of layoffs and budget cuts. What would they do then? *** "Ha-ha...holey Joe! Holes in your jeans. Holes in your shoes. Holes in your brains..." And the teacher just stood on the sides of the playground...chatting with one another...and ignoring the pain of those words. If Joe did complain they said..."It's just words. Sticks and stones will break my bones but words will never hurt me." But they did... *** Joe rolled over and snuggled against Jane. She was engrossed in another story on her e-reader. He tried to sneak a peak at the words which held her rapt attention when he could not. 'Oh, Rex...yes, yes," Ariel could feel his shaft pressed tightly against her womanhood as his hands traversed her bosoms. His lips tasted sweeter than chocolate as they pressed lightly to hers.' "Wow, that shit is pretty hot," Joe said as he slipped his hand up from about her waist, seeking out her 'bosom' like in the story. He nuzzled her neck a bit. Jane rolled over to face him, "Is that all you ever think about? Sex, sex, sex?" she accused as she shut the cover on her e-reader. Joe sighed heavily. If all he ever thought about was sex, why had he simply been trying to cuddle with his wife? And besides which one of them was thinking about and reading about sex just a moment ago? Was he wrong to think that perhaps, just maybe, the woman who had said she loved him, wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, and had taken vows to 'cleave only unto him until death do we part' might actually prefer to be intimate with her husband rather than read some made-up story about sex between people who were not even real? As she turned out the light and rolled over on her side at the far end of their king size bed, he released...yes, yes he was wrong to believe that his beloved wife...gave a damn! He turned over to his side of the bed...and tried with all his might to forget it all. Jobs that did not appreciate his efforts to improve sales...endless waves of traffic filled with zombies just like himself...son's who constantly demanded everything he could not afford to give...and especially wives who no longer gave a damn about him. *** "It's all your fault. If I had not gotten pregnant with you, I could have been somebody. I was pretty back then. I could have gone to Hollywood and become a big star. I might have even become a singer...unlike you I can actually carry a tune. IF..." Whatever else his mother was going to say was drowned out as she lifted the beer can to her lips. Joe slunk away into the darkness of his room...away from the woman that should have loved him. *** If you recognized yourself in some of Joe's thoughts and those voices in his head, join the club. It is impossible to make it through life without a few wounds. But the good news is that despite those experiences, voices and mind control to which we have been subjected for a life time, we have choices. We are human beings...with freewill and imagination. Each and every day we wake up just as Joe did...with choices to make. We can allow that mind control to make those choices...become those Mindless Zombies to the Man. Or we can re-ignite our lost passions and dreams. I will not finish this story. I leave that to your imagination. Was the next day just like this one...and the thousands of others that had come before? Did circumstances or fate forces Joe down different paths? Did he lose his job? Was his wife cheating? Did those tires blow out and cause a horrible accident in LA traffic...killing him instantly? Or did Joe wake up the next morning and look out the window to hum a different tune...perhaps Twisted Sister's classic..."We're not going to take this anymore"? But more importantly what path will you choose? The mind control subjected upon you by your parents, teachers, bosses, society...the man? Or the lost art of "reasoning" that Rousseau spoke about? Because that is the moral of this story...you have a choice every single day whether you are going to be the "Mindless Zombies of the Man"...or NOT.