0 comments/ 4714 views/ 7 favorites Where do I Begin? By: IAmControl This story is an unfinished work from a while ago. Please let me know if you would like it finished, or post a link to your own ending/modifications! Enjoy! ***** Where do I begin? Let me begin my recount of the past three days with a statement. I have never felt anything more incredibly satisfying or terrifying than the experience I have just been through. I have never understood so clearly any single thought in all my life, and at the same time, doubted that same thought with all my being. And I have never been so totally controlled. Let me start from the beginning. It was an average day. An average, normal, crappy day. I got up late, burned my toast and got burned by the boss for being late. I had all the tricky customers with all the difficult problems and very little thanks for it. In fact I was just about totally fed up with my day altogether, ready to fuck off back to my crappy apartment, collapse on the couch and lose all my troubles in a can of MindLess. I wasn't supposed to drink that drink any more. Last year I had one too many at Christmas and woke up in hospital with major arterial poisoning. Apparently when they found me I was wearing nothing but stilettos and had half a used condom still over my crown jewels. When the analysis came back, they found that I'd been out of mental control for close to twelve hours. When they asked me who, all I could think of in my still numb mind was her, the bitch I managed to entice back to my apartment. I don't know how she did it, but somehow, the cute date I'd brought back to my hole for Christmas had actually turned out to be a street user of MindLess. She had brought a six pack of the damn drink with her. No doubt it was spiked with, what, triple the safe active agent levels. No doubt I would have been out of it by the end of the second one. By the sixth, she could have asked me to cut off my own dick and swallow it whole and I probably would have obeyed. MindLess was Coca Cola's response to the end of the Coke era. When the world decided it'd had enough Coke in mid-2019, Coke had about a year to make the next drink-of-the-century before their funds and sponsors dried up and they fell out of commission. It took them six months and eight billion dollars to invent MindLess, but it was worth it. In December of 2019, Coke was 15 trillion dollars in profit, and had the world hooked. Literally. MindLess's key ingredient was a new chemical known as Hydroxide 0-1. The 0-1 was the official scientific code for mind altering discoveries after the Breaking of the Mind discovery in 2015. (For those who have found and read my recount of the last three days on the internet, I have included a summary of the Breaking of the Mind discovery at the end of my notes to help jog their memories.) Since then, any and all discoveries relating to mind altering substances were to be labelled with the 01 prefix or the 0-1 chemical code and would be investigated by the Government Department for Mental Issues (GDMI) before any further progress was made. Hence, it came as a worldwide shock when Coke announced its new product, MindLess, had proven to be a massive success on its one-thousand test patients and did include the agent Hydroxide 0-1 as an ingredient. Whether the ingredient was active or not was never specified and an investigation by the GDMI reported only that the test subjects were healthy in every way. No other reports were ever heard - a rarity for such a highly funded government department. Still, since there was no negative feedback and since the agency had fulfilled its contractual obligations, the government was satisfied and the drink was commercialised. Within a month, MindLess was the world's most popular drink by a massive 42% over Pepsi's PartyBuzz. When I tried the drink I found it to be incredibly powerful. It seemed, almost instantly, to calm my mind, clearing it, cleansing it. I felt fresh, empowered. Nothing was incredibly different, except my emotions were at the best they'd been for years. Oddly enough, I also found that several ads I watched on TV directly after drinking the drink seemed oddly relevant and I found myself wanting to follow their advice. At the time however, I simply put it down to my newfound mental calm. Of course, I had no idea at the time that MindLess's key ingredient - Hydroxide 0-1 - was actually an active agent. But then again, neither did the rest of the world. And by the time they had worked it out, it was too late. MindLess had been tried by 98.4% of the planet's population, putting a massive favour in the hands of anyone who might want to oppose them. Luckily, no one tried. The thing about active mind altering agents is that they are incredibly hard to trace without millions of dollars' worth of equipment at your disposal - something only the GDMI had. Mind altering agents have a similar effect on the mind as carbon dioxide has on the body. You could be driving along in an old petrol powered car one moment and asleep at the wheel the next and never realise you were breathing in carbon dioxide for the last half hour through a broken seal. This, in fact, is the primary reason the government cut all the country's funding to petrol powered cars and concentrated on developing electric vehicles. The same concept applies to mind altering chemicals. They'll be in your system before you even know how, and by the time you've worked it out, you could be sitting in a hospital wheelchair with an anti-weakener drip in your arm and a doctor telling you you came three hours away from total mental breakdown. Isn't it funny then, that the world's most popular drink also happens to be the only one on the market to carry an active mind altering agent? Just as all of this was going through my head, as if often did on long boring work days, she appeared. She looked incredible. The first thing I thought when I saw her was "Holy fucking shit, I would LOVE to get in her pants. And by in, I mean neck deep in some incredible pussy." What? I'm alone most of my life, ok? I've had about as much sex since I left school as Tomas the Tank engine. Let me describe her. She was wearing heeled shoes, not massive but slightly raised. Her legs were wrapped in the tightest leather tights I've ever seen, and trust me, if I'd seen her ass in those pants I probably would have filled my pants with cum right then on the spot. As it was I found myself instantly sexually attracted to her. Her hips were those perfect little curvy hips that make women irresistible. Her waist was tightly secured with a corset and her bust looked like it was about to burst the tough material that was restraining it. Either she had no bra on or she had the latest in invisible strap-wear. Either way, I felt like a slight breeze would be enough to push the whole getup off her chest and reveal the plump breasts bulging beneath it. I found myself wishing her fingers would slightly breeze across my own bulge and reveal it to her. And then she could reveal her own secrets to me. 'Excuse me? Could you show me where the soft drinks are?' Said a quiet, cool voice. It sounded beautiful. But it snapped me out of my trance and I hurriedly averted my gaze, looking up to her face. It was all I could do to squeeze a half-intelligible sentence out of my lips. 'I- They're, uh, third isle, on the left hand side.' I pointed in the general direction. 'Two isles that way.' She sent me a smile that would have melted the heart of Iron Man, were his heart actually made of iron. Yeah, it was really hot, ok? 'Thanks.' And she strode off. I just stood there, staring at the place where she'd been standing, for several seconds. By the time I realised what I was doing, she was gone. I suddenly felt very conscious at the massive hard on I was trying to hide and tried, unsuccessfully, to shake the image of her beautiful ass out of my head before a damp spot was added to the bulge. I put the last of the groceries up and made for an early lunch break in the toilets. So that's how I met her. The most attractive woman I've ever seen in my life, asked me for the soft drink isle, and I was about as confident as a... Something incredibly not-confident, at any rate. Fucking great. What a day. How was I to know that from that moment, my mind was hers to command? PART 2 So that was the beginning. The first day I met her. The woman who turned me into her slave. Let me tell you now that, despite how weird the next part sounds, it truly did happen exactly this way. I'll detail it as much as I can remember, because the details are important in this bit. Here, let me explain. I had another two hours before my day ended, so I resolved to think about her all I wanted when I was at home with my can of MindLess and my remote. I had more boxes to empty onto the shelves around the corner, so, I grabbed them and made my way around to the next isle. There was a little boy playing on the ground as his mother shopped, and I stepped around him cautiously. When his mother saw, she came over hurriedly, apologising for him. I assured her that he was causing no harm, smiling at him, but, I added, for the sake of other customers, perhaps he should play out of the walkways. She apologised again and took the boys hand. I continued on around the corner, still looking down at the boy, just to make sure I didn't step on any fingers or anything. Because of this, and because the boxes of stock I was carrying blocked my forward view, I never noticed the young girl right around the corner turning to walk out of the isle just as I entered it. So, naturally, I crashed straight into her. The boxes went everywhere, tipping off the pile like dominoes. I was kneeling down to pick them up before they'd finished landing, apologising as I did so. I never looked at her, but I had the feeling that it was the same girl who I'd directed towards the energy drinks before. Sure enough, I heard her soft voice saying something. 'Oh my, I'm so sorry! I wasn't watching where I was going and I never saw you!' she exclaimed, the perfect picture of innocence. 'No, no, it was my fault, I was watching that boy over there and I-' I paused to reach under the shelves for the last box. As I drew it out, I looked up and found her crouching right in front of me, her face barely three inches away from my own. 'I- I-' was about all I was able to stammer. Her eyes, caught my own, and I simply couldn't look away. That is, if I had wanted to. 'Shhhh...' she hushed, placing a finger over my lips. I heard her voice as though it was, well, inside my very mind. Despite the thoughts running through my head, I froze. She said nothing for what felt like an eternity, but was probably more merely a second, but for that second she stared into my eyes, as I stared back into hers. I don't know what she saw, but I can tell you, her eyes could have been bottomless. They were deep, deep eyes, full of more living energy that I've ever seen before. They practically pulsed, alive with knowledge, strength, emotion, power. However, some part of me that was unaffected by the signals my senses were sending me managed to realise that I was probably the only person who could see all of that. What I saw captured me, enticed me to learn more, made me want to know and be a part of everything they were, although, in hindsight, I have no idea how I could have done that. And then the moment passed. As quickly as it had happened, it passed. She stood, casually, as though nothing had happened, turned and strode confidently away. For the second time in as many minutes, I found myself awestruck, unable to move. By the time I had, she was gone. When I turned around, the boy and his mother, the ones who had caused me to crash into the mysterious and beautiful girl, were nowhere to be seen. Even though the whole entire scenario had taken place over the space of only a few seconds, they were gone. I could find them nowhere. 'What the hell...' I whispered to myself. How odd. How very odd indeed. So, that was our first encounter. I have little doubt that you, dear reader, have worked out that the aforementioned girl is the one about which this recount is centred. What you don't know, yet, is exactly how much power was in those eyes. Something that, at the time, even I hadn't fully come to understand. But I soon would. Oh, soon I would be so deeply controlled by those eyes that my poor mind would be able to think of nothing but their beautiful glare. Let me skip forwards to the next time I met her. It was the very next day, after I had carried out my plan and spent my night with a pizza and a can of MindLess, which, after all, ended up being worse for my out-of-control mind than I had hoped... I arrived into work late as usual and received a scalding from the boss - also as usual. In my normal shitty mood, I trudged out onto the floor with a rubbish bin. Today's exciting task: clean up. Just what I needed. Fortunately for me, at least as far as clean up goes, there was a distraction waiting for me at the front counter. She stood there like she owned the world, and, what's more, like the world liked being owned by her. She was stunning, with another tight corset on that made her whole chest area look like it was ready to overflow with breast. Her legs were shapely and crossed, her arms folded calmly over her ample bust. Her face, was simply... Breathtaking. Absolutely fucking breathtaking. She smiled when she saw me, standing up straight. When I arrived at the counter to meet her, she surprised me totally. And I don't really know what I expected her to do, but I know it wasn't what she did. Her hands grasped my arms gently, and her face came towards mine. I remember that it was this specific moment that my mind started thinking for itself. Alright, let me rephrase that. My mind started receiving thoughts and executing them without my permission. But, at the time, it felt just like instinct. Natural. I had no idea. Her face came towards mine, and I instinctively met hers with my own. It was a kiss. A full-lipped, passionate kiss. My outer shell kept it cool, but inside, I was going crazy. The hot girl! The incredible beauty! The one I so incredibly single-handedly freaked out! Kissing me! Me! We drew back and she regarded me with a fondness only true love can express. At least, that's what I thought it was. 'Hey, babe,' She said to me softly, 'so good to see you again after last night!' Last night?! My mind reeled, having no recollection of any company, pleasant or otherwise, the previous night. Unless this girl was my can of MindLess, there was no way she could have been with me. And yet, what she said felt right. True. Of course it was true! After all, she'd said it! How could someone this attractive be lying? 'C'mon,' she was saying again, 'let's get outta here. I told your boss you had an appointment,' she said, leading me by the hand out the door, 'So you're good for the rest of the day.' Stunned, I did nothing but follow her lead. Five minutes later we were in the car, on the main road. I said nothing, not trusting any part of my person to even move in case my streak of luck ended and I was fumbling words and bumping into people again. As my mind raced, a thought crept in around the edges, slowly taking over my focus until it was all I thought of. The thought, as it were, was me imagining her... Imagining her masturbating right next to me, in the car, on the road, while driving! I snapped my head round as far as I dared without alerting her or breaking my neck, just in case the vivid thought had been real. It wasn't. Again, half of me sighed with relief, and the other sighed with disappointment. I turned back to my thoughts, wondering if I was totally sober from the MindLess kick last night. Then I wondered if I was even past it, or if it was still last night and all of this was just a drunk hallucination. That'd be it. That explains all the weird things going on with me today, I thought. It's the MindLess. I got a bad can and I've tripped out and I'm lying on my floor at home with my old clothes on and nothing next to me but a couch. It was with this relieving thought in my mind that I turned again, expecting the sexy girl next to me to have been replaced by a couch leg. What I saw told me two things. One, I had to be on more than one can to be this far into it and still not waking up. And two... My imagination obviously wasn't doing a bad job tonight. For there she was, as sexy as ever, with her giant breasts sticking out in front of her and one hand on the wheel, the other pressed deep inside her pants, moving backwards and forwards, causing her mouth to fall open in ecstasy as she looked right at me, a coy grin on her face. PART 3 Now I know what you're thinking. This girl walks out of nowhere, I make a total fuck-up of it and ruin any chance I had of even saying hi to her, then the next day she's there again saying not only that we're dating, but also that we fucked, and, what's more, is finger-fucking herself right next to me in the car. Either I'm tripped out on some fucked up shit, or in a mental hospital. Well, let me tell you now, I truly believed at the time that I was either of those. But not one part of me believed that it could all be true. Not one bit. Well, let me further tell you, as this story unfolds, you'll likely follow the same thought path I did. Disbelief, denial, shock... And then, submission. The part that comes next is by far the most out there part yet, but by no means the most ridiculous. Were this whole story to be rated on a "ridiculous scale", the next section would weigh in at about a six. Don't worry. Pretty soon, I hit ten. I couldn't help it. My mouth fell open and I stared. I'm sorry but a guy like me just doesn't get to see this sort of material every day, or month, for that matter, and when it does happen it's not something you want to miss. I stared at her crotch, at the hand pulsing back and forth in it, and felt my own crotch area begin to pulse too. She looked over at me, meeting my eyes, locking gaze, and she held it for a good thirty seconds. Eyes that were full of pure sensual ecstasy. She gave me the works, the lip biting and the sighing and the breathing and back arching. She even did her best to grind her hips, though sitting in the car probably isn't the best place for it. She did a damn good job though. My own groin knew what was going on and yearned to be a part of it, but I willed it to silence, though, I had no idea what I was silencing it for. She must have known. She had to have seen how desperate I was. She withdrew her hand, lifted it up to her mouth and took a long suck of her fingers. Then, she extended her arm to me, obviously inviting me to do the same. Tentatively, I wrapped my lips around them and pulled. Well, I gave it a try, didn't I? So maybe I wasn't very graceful? I had barely got my head around her appearing at my work, let alone everything else. Well, apparently I was pretty pathetic, because she laughed at my effort to clean her fingers and re-inserted the fingers into herself, returning her attention to the road. It was only now that I noticed how long she'd been staring straight at me, and how little the car had moved. That in itself was skill. I sat there and tried not to notice the bulge in my pants. Turned out I didn't need to wait long for the next helping. What was probably twenty seconds of driving, rubbing and sighing later, she withdrew her hand again - I was able to catch a tiny glimpse of her hairless crotch as she did so - and extended the hand to me. No suck first. This time, it was my turn to get the full dosage. I was determined not to fail this opportunity, fearing, I suppose, that if I was too pissy, she'd stop and I'd lose the chance forever. Where do I Begin? I wrapped my lips around the fingers and sucked, using my tongue to lick it out of the gap between fingers. She liked my new effort better, and gave me a moan of approval for my sucking. Again the fingers went into her hole, and again I waited. They came out and I cleaned them. This time, the semi-wet fingers went somewhere else rather than back in between her legs. Running quickly down my front, they reached my groin and felt what was hiding there. Well, her hand sent my nerves spinning, electrifying my body. As if she could read my mind, the fingers wormed their way over my waistline and down into my underwear. They wrapped themselves around my manhood and gripped. I practically came on the spot. I actually don't know why I didn't, I felt exactly the way I should when I cum, except, I didn't. The sensations of her hand around my meat sent sparks shooting through my body. My hands, having a mind of their own, rose and undid the belt and fly on my pants, letting the pressure below spring upwards. She flicked the underwear off my cock and took it naked in her hand. First, she used her forefinger to rub my tip, making me arch my back and push my hips upwards into her hand. If I got too excited, however, she would dig a fingernail into some part of my manhood, and I'd settle again. This went on for almost ten minutes, her finger flicking and rubbing all around the head of my penis. Ten minutes after she began this, she changed position and rubbed her hand up and down my length. Most exciting of all was that she used my own pre-cum as lube, rubbing her hand all over my tip and wiping it on my shaft. By the time she was wanking me fully I was well covered in my own lubricant and throbbing like crazy. This also went on for a surprising amount of time, much longer than I ever would have lasted on my own. Again, throughout the whole thing I felt as though I was coming, hard, but I wasn't. It was the most incredibly but also the most odd sensation I'd ever felt. After what must have been twenty minutes of this, her cum-covered hand left my cock - throbbing, red and totally turned on - and she licked it clean. For my part, I just sat back, panting, sweating, my pants now fully down and my shirt unbuttoned, my cock sticking up from between my legs. She took her time, cleaning her hand so well that she'd have made a cat shamed. I took the opportunity to look out through the windscreen, and what I saw surprised me. The landscape around was much more barren to what I was used to - nothing but dirt and hills for miles. Ahead of us was a large hill, looming closer and closer, a tunnel entrance bored into the side facing us. I also noticed, for the first time, that her speed had risen. Probably around 110, if I guessed correctly. I had little idea where we might have been going, as I rarely left the city and the outer landscape was alien to me. However, I was vaguely aware of another small town about forty kilometres out of the edge of the city. I wondered if we were going there. It was as I was wondering where we were heading that her hand returned to me and my mind no longer had time to think about locations. My next adventure was ready, it seemed. As far as I am concerned, it was at this point that my mind truly was no longer mine. Looking back, the whole situation was incredibly suspicious. The mysterious beauty, the person I didn't know a jot about, is my partner and wants to take me home. Then she's literally fucking in the car, while driving. Plus, for some reason, my whole being - mind and body - were responding to her perfectly. Not coming when I usually would, my mind clearing so totally when I began to think about where we were, my automatic trust of the babe that had in truth practically kidnapped me. But, again, at the time I just went with it. By now I wasn't even needing to think things like, I must be having the best luck any man has ever had, or, I must be off my face in my MindLess, or something. No, my head was thinking one thing at a time, and that thing was her. Her hand came back out, resting on my chest. I looked down at it, as it felt its way around my body. It went down my front, then up, over my shoulder, and behind my head. As strange as this was I let it do its thing, and pretty soon I was rewarded. It pulled my head across and down towards her crotch, where I saw a big wet patch soaking through her pants. I automatically brought my hands to help and began to search around her waistline for a purchase, to pull her tight clothes down. But a sudden thought in my head, clear and strong as a hammer, suggested that she wouldn't like me to pull her pants off just yet. Maybe, she'd like me to rub her slit through her pants, give her wet patch a lick and arouse her more. So I did. I began to rub her hole through her pants, and I gotta say, for someone with so little experience, I did a pretty proud job. I had her legs spreading wide and her lips parting for me. I swear, I felt that wet patch get twice as wet as i inhaled her heady musk and lapped up the warm patch. I was doing so well that she rewarded me. All of a sudden, as though it was any bright idea, I thought she might like it if I pulled her pants down and pleasured her with my tongue. So, again, I did. I found it surprisingly easy to slip the tight pants over her impressive booty, but with a little worming and some hip-shaking from her, they were around her ankles. She spread her legs as widely as she could in the driver's seat and I dived in. My mouth contacted her slit and I tasted her sweet juice at once. It filled my mouth with the most pleasing sensations I've ever tasted, and my tongue has never felt anything as soft and pleasing to lick as her vagina lips. I tasted every corner of her, sucking her clit until it was red raw, throbbing and as exposed as possible. Then, I gently squeezed it between my fingers while my attention returned to her hole itself. I went as deep as my tongue could and licked everywhere it was possible, which was an impressive feat for a man squashed into a smaller space than an employee office. I suppose I must have been pretty good, because I felt the car pulling over, and before I knew it, she was turning off the car. I never stopped, not wanting to and not wanting to displease her by doing so. Somehow, and don't ask me how, she managed to turn herself 90 degrees so that she was facing me. Her legs went wider, one hanging over the passenger seat, and I had full access to her labia. I licked, tasted, tonguefucked and fingered that gorgeous woman's cunt until it was throbbing and dripping and until my mouth could physically take no more. She must have cum at least three times, but it was the last one that was the best. My fingers were a blur in her hole and she was openly moaning, almost screaming out, and her ecstatic moans filled my ears and fuelled my fingers. I didn't slow down and I even blew on her clit, stimulating her to the edge. When, finally, she came, she came like a nuke. Her hips shot forwards into my face, and her vagina forcefully contracted around my tongue instantaneously, and at the same time her hole overflowed with cum. It was so forceful that it shot out onto my face and I licked it all up and sucked it out of her. But that wasn't all. At the exact moment this happened, as her most powerful orgasm hit her, my penis responded. It was stimulated instantly, as though it was in a vagina, being wanked, sucked, titfucked and stroked all at once. It simply blew, receiving so much sudden stimuli that it ejected. I felt my own hips pulsing but my focus was on her body. Indeed, I only noticed my own cum when I sat back hard, panting, jaw aching, licking my lips, and realised that there were thick wads of cum over the chair in the area where my cock had been floating. I looked down at it in surprise, and then dismissed it. My Mistress could do whatever she wanted to me, and whatever it was, I would like it. Wait. My Mistress? Whatever she wanted? The thought was quelled almost before it came. She spoke for the first time since the store. 'Yes, you are mine now. You belong to me, and you serve my every need.' She said in her mesmerising voice. Despite my own thoughts, I was transfixed. I knew she was right. 'You have been mine since the moment I saw you, but I decided to give you a lengthy conditioning and have some fun on the way.' Her words were filling my head. 'You have reached one of the most climatic physical and mental points that anybody can experience, which is the perfect way to drain one's doubts and inhibitions away.' No matter what she said, it was perfect, like micro orgasms induced by voice alone. She sat there, legs flopped over the steering wheel and the chair, semi-naked, dripping vagina in full view. I sat there too, kneeling on the chair, cock dangling in front of me, staring deep into her eyes, mesmerised by her whole being. 'Sometimes, I choose subjects because they attract me. Sometimes, I choose subjects because I attract them. Sometimes they need me more than I need them. Sometimes...' She toyed lightly with her vagina, lightly running a finger around the sensitive wet skin. 'Sometimes, I play the good girl, and sometimes the bad.' She smiled. 'But enough of that for now. Why don't we go inside? Get cleaned up, maybe have a bite to eat? You and I have much to do together, and I only planned for a few days.' She turned herself back into the seat proper, removed the keys and opened the door, not seemingly in the least bit worried about the pool of juice in which she sat. I, for one, just stared lovingly at her hips, at the supple ass running over the slippery cum-covered seat and by her beautiful face. She opened the door and stepped out, not bothering to pull up her pants. In fact, once she was standing, she flicked them off altogether. I realised I should follow her lead and I got out too, also not bothering to dress. She turned, and began to stride towards a house that I'd not seen until she began to walk towards it. For a good five seconds, my eyes were absolutely glued to the perfect ass under that dangling shirt, and those soft, soft legs. Then I realised I should be following my mistress and I ran after her, my only item of clothing, my shirt, flapping loosely from my shoulders. So... That's a pretty damn big revelation, isn't it? I thought so too, once I remembered it. She was incredible, still is. I can't help but feel myself drawn, wishing to be under her control even now. But there's more to come, trust me, and I don't just mean sex. Plenty more. PART 4 She directed me to the shower, were I cleaned myself up in relative normality. Surprisingly, she didn't come in, though I expected her to. Perhaps I wanted her to, but if she knew it, she didn't show it. When I was done she brought me in a towel - dressed only in shorts. I gazed at my Mistress's breasts lovingly as she handed me the towel, but she merely smiled her flawless smile at me and closed the door behind her. I sat in there for a while, wondering what was happening and when my Mistress was going to let me serve her again. After a while, I got bored and left the bathroom. She was sitting at the table in the kitchen, a large shirt loosely hanging around her shoulders. As I looked at her down the hallway, sitting there peacefully, the mug held in her hands, I thought about just how wonderful she was. She never looked at me, in fact, I'm not sure she even noticed I was there, but I got the idea to check the room opposite the bathroom. I did and found the bed made up and a clean change of clothes waiting for me. This time when I emerged, she turned straight away and smiled to me. 'Hey, hun!' She said pleasantly, 'Come right on over! I've made you your favourite.' I followed her suggestion and came into the kitchen where a steaming mug was on the table. I picked it up and looked, sniffed and eventually tasted the contents and found it to be an extremely nice cup of hot chocolate. Extra chocolate and extra sugar, plus a dribble of extra strong brandy. just how I always had it. But how did she know? 'I bet you're wondering how I know all the things I know about you, right?' She said conversationally, as if she had read my mind. I nodded, not really knowing what to say, but luckily for me, she didn't need me to speak. 'This is going to be hard for you to grasp, but I'll help you along with... Well, you'll understand as I tell you.' And with that, she began to talk. 'Let me start from the beginning. When I was 19, I signed up for a test program put on by what was then Coke. They needed one hundred people of various sexes, ages and races to server as their test subjects for a brand new revolutionary drink. All we were told before the day was that we would not come under any harm and that every patient would receive five hundred dollars as a reward. Now, I needed the money badly, having just moved out of home, and so I took the chance and signed up. Three days later I was standing in a giant warehouse with a guy wearing a Coke shirt ticking us off on a clipboard. Once he knew we were all present he grouped similar people together and sent them off with a scientist each. I was in a group of six other girls, all in their late teens. God, there was one sixteen-year-old girl there, looking as scared as is physically possible. And with good reason. For every scientist or Coke-shirt, there was a massive, and I mean massive bodyguard. They were all least six foot. We were taken into another room where there were six chairs with hospital like equipment around them - IV drips, syringes, scissors, that sort of thing. I also noticed that every chair had thick straps. We were instructed to lay down on the chairs, and one by one, the scientist guy did up the straps. Then, with the big dark-faced man staring at us, he injected an odd brown liquid into us, one after the other. I was last. I heard one girl let out a quiet little scream, presumably the sixteen-year old, as she was injected. The poor girl was sobbing. I couldn't see her, as my head was strapped in place in the chair along with my hands and feet. The girls all took their injections, and then it was my turn. I heard him shuffle over, saw from the corner of my eye the syringe with its load of brown stuff, and, a second later, felt the sting of it going into my arm. Within a few seconds I felt my nerves slipping away, my apprehensions leaving me. My vision seemed to become clearer and yet at the same time lose focus. A strange, massive calm washed over me and I felt content to be right where I was. I vaguely remember someone screaming - probably that poor sixteen-year-old. I think she was removed, because I remember hearing her screaming fade. Then, the scientist appeared in my watery vision. "Oh my god, I think we have one!" He'd exclaimed. He beckoned the big bodyguard over, and he came to look. He lifted one of my eyelids, felt my pulse and unstrapped my right arm and lifted it up, letting it fall limply back to the armrest. The scientist was doing something at the desk excitedly. When he was done he came over to me and began to undo the straps holding me down. The big man moved fast, grabbing his arm, but the scientist told him not to work, that he was sure this one was under. The big guy relented and he undid the rest. "Get up, please!" he said, and I did without question. He instructed me to stand, repeat words, raise my arms and touch my toes, things like that. I obeyed his commands instantly, my mind and body responding not to me but to him. As for me, I was just so pleased to follow his instructions. Then the big guy told him to instruct me that I would not respond to his touch. The scientist, after a glance, did so. I accepted the command. Then I felt the big guy's hand on my arm, lightly running up my arm and over my shoulder. I felt it but I did nothing to stop him. He came closer, ran his fingers around my neck, arms, over my back and chest. He paused to rub each of my tits as he did this, and did the same when he reached my legs, running his hands several times over my inner thighs. He knew his fingers were on my slit, and he knew I could feel it. But I stood there happily, not even blinking at his practical molestation. His hand slowly changed from open to his index finger and this time his big hand made no cheap avoidances. The finger went right over my clothed slit several times, and I felt it getting faster. Still to this day I hate myself for getting wet, but I did, and he surely felt it. I bet his ugly face was smiling at that. I just stared affectionately at the scientist, the one who I'd been... Tied to, I guess. Finally, he had had enough and commanded the big man to stop. In response he got up violently, going over to the little guy. He bore down over him, but the wily man held his ground and threatened to tell the "director". That seemed to do the trick and he relented, pausing only to throw me a coy wink. Once he was gone, the scientist came over to me. "I know you can't hear me, or at least you won't remember hearing me, but let me just apologise for that guy. He's a paid watcher, and they answer to the head of this development. Personally, I hate it." He was saying. "Please, lay back down on the bed there. I would ask you if you're ok, after that asshole touched you, but of course you are because I told you to be. Sometimes I hate my job," he went on without pausing, whilst strapping me back in, "but I really can't afford to lose it." He turned, picked up another syringe of clear liquid, and came back to me. "You really are beautiful though... Oh, this world's such a terrible place." He injected it into me, and in moments I began to feel heavy and the corners of my vision blurred. "Such a shame that the world's come to using mind altering chemicals to sell its products..." His words were echoing to me down a long tunnel, and then they stopped altogether and I blacked out.' She paused to take a sip of her coffee, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. I merely looked at her awkwardly, partially in adoration, partially in curiosity, partially in arousal - after all, her shirt was open, dangling loosely around her large breasts. But she didn't seem to mind, and after another deep breath, she continued. 'Afterwards I woke up lying on my bed, in my apartment. I had no idea how I'd gotten there, the last thing I remembered being the factory, but then I found a cotton patch on my arm, a cheque for $500 and a note lying on my desk. The cheque was authentic, and the note was typed. It read: "Dear Subject 12, thank you very much for your volunteering in our project. Thanks to you our scientific progress has been fast-forwarded and we are making vast improvements. You will find yourself in good health. Please, return to normal life. We will contact you if we find anything we need your assistance with further." Weird as it was, that wasn't all. There was a hand written note at the bottom, only a few words. It had been written hastily. It said; "Be well my friend, scntst" I could only assume someone wrote a note on it without realising what it meant. Days later, as I was cashing in the cheque, It came back to me. "Scntst" was Scientist. The scientist. The guy who I'd obeyed while under the effects of what must have been a "Mind altering chemical". I got home as fast as I could and read up about it. The most readily available mind altering chemical known was Hydroxide 0-1. And it was forecast to be in Coke's new drink, known only as "MindLess." I made it my business to learn all I could about these mind chemicals and even attended several classes on the matter. As I learned, the memories came flooding back. I'd already remembered the scientist, but the volunteering, the others, of all ages and races, and the emotions. I pursued the subject intensely, but it wasn't until a few months later that I realised I had something new. Every guy I tried to get with suddenly wanted to get with me too, whereas I used to have the worse luck imaginable with men. My boss agreed to give me a rise, and my best friend suddenly started liking movies and music she'd hated as long as I remember. People were acting weirdly towards me, until I got a thought. It was crazy, but I tested it. At work, I concentrated on a girl I really fancied and sent all the most erotic thoughts I could right towards her. Within seconds, her hand was between her legs, and she was biting her lip, breathing hard. I kept pushing, sending her different thoughts. Then, finally, I filled my mind with a very vivid picture of her throwing her head back, screaming out and orgasming right there on the spot. Where do I Begin? And that's exactly what she did. Trust me, I was more shocked than anyone else in the room, despite the fact that they just saw a co-worker spontaneously orgasm, but only I knew why. From that day forwards, I concentrated on developing my power over minds, until I could openly read and insert thoughts into them. Then, I picked people for whatever reason I liked. It wasn't as hard as I thought it'd be; quite easy in fact. I guess my newfound power over others had also boosted my confidence. No longer was I the shy little girl; I was the master now. I went on the prowl, and so, the first person I pulled in was a really hot guy who works in a café I go to all the time. We were friends, by this time. He's incredibly well built but he told me he's gay. I made him invite me out the back, where he rutted me hard for a full half-hour, bent over a box of cheeses. Not bad for a gay man. He never remembered it. That's how I wanted it to be. It was then that I noticed I even had limited control over their bodies, through sending them physical thoughts.' She paused for another sip. 'I know what you're thinking, and not because I'm reading your mind. I don't, by the way, just walk around reading everyone else's minds. It takes effort, and I respect privacy. Anyway, your question. So, why did you pick me? Well, that is a good question. Quite simply... You are lonely. You haven't had any company all year.' I was shocked at that. I didn't even say that out loud in my apartment, let alone tell anyone. 'You're getting worse, spending your nights drowning in MindLess and watching TV. You're dying to live, but your life revolves around nothing but working and sleeping.' She looked up and met my gaze. 'So I gave your life back to you.' I was shocked. How the hell had she gotten these powers? Why was she making people rut her? Why- 'I have no idea how I got these powers, and I make people rut me because I'm a horny ass bitch. I'm addicted to sex and I get it whenever I want it.' As she said this, she looked up at me and winked. 'And yes, this time I did read your mind.' 'But... But what do you do with everyone after you've... Used them? Surely you don't just kiss them on the cheek and leave them to remember it?' 'Please,' She said with slight distain, 'don't say I use them. Use is such a derivative term. I don't use them, I find out what they want, what they crave, and give it to them, just for a while. More often than not, I enrich their life, give them a reason, a strong mind to go out and live. And in answer to your other question,' she went on, 'I don't let people remember what happened. I create new memories for them. It's difficult and by far the hardest part of the job, but I do it to keep my secret safe and to keep the subjects safe. Without the memories, their mind makes up new memories. But they always have a feeling. A residue. A powerful urge, if you like.' She looked up at me again, and this time I saw sadness in her eyes. 'It's imperative that I remain unknown, or I'll become the talk of the century. I'll be studied by scientists and used as a guinea pig. And,' she looked away, 'In the end, it's better for the people I work with if they don't remember this.' I felt my heart softening, at her obvious upset. Every job has its pain, I thought, and hers is the loneliness she creates in herself every time she lets someone go. If she read me saying that, she didn't show it. 'I don't normally tell this to my, uh, captives,' she said, not looking up at me, 'but I... I like you. I like your personality. Besides,' she added, another hint of sadness in her voice, 'you won't remember any of this anyway.' After several seconds of silence, she took a deep breath and looked at me again. Her sadness had gone, and she had the ambitious look about her again. 'So,' she said through a smile, 'ready to go at it again?' If I hadn't remembered this conversation, I probably wouldn't have believed any of this ever happened. But I remember, as clearly as fucking crystal, her pure emotions as she told me her story. Even a mentally enhanced lady of love can't hide her emotions, and I know, I know with all my heart that she was telling the truth. I did a little research. According to the Mental Metal, a scientific magazine dedicated to mental research, a naturally occurring chemical in the brain, Strontium III Hydroxylase, reacts in a very specific way with the chemical Hydroxide 0-1 upon contact. Unfortunately this chemical can only be found in human brains and breaks apart when not supplied with living energy. Hence, no one has been able to get any Strontium III Hydroxylase to experiment with. Here's my theory. When she was injected with the pure liquid form of Hydroxide 0-1, it reacted with the natural Strontium III Hydroxylase in her mind and gave her these abilities. The magazine also says that it rebuilds itself upon reaction with the natural chemical. Hence, the powers not only stay, but they grow. If I'm right, this means that her power isn't just with her for life, it'll continue to grow more and more powerful as she grows older. I did a prediction based on some magazine facts. Give or take about five years, by the time she's sixty, she should have an overbearing will-power over almost any chemical and material known to man. That pretty much means that anything is within her power. Manipulable, alterable. Only the last three chemicals as per the periodic table have molecular bonds that are too powerful for her will to break... Yet. She led me into a lush room filled with cushions, bean bags, blankets and other soft things. It looked like an ordinary bedroom except that in place of wardrobes, cupboards, tables and desks, were various soft sitting devices. There was a massive four corner bed in the centre of the room against the wall. It was massive, probably capable of bedding four people comfortably without anyone feeling anyone else's cold feet. She directed me to sit on the bed, and she sat opposite me. 'Before we begin, is there anything you want to ask me?' She said, as she casually flicked her top off her shoulders. 'Well, there is one thing...' I began, trailing off. I looked at her for several seconds, and when I realised she wasn't going to read it for me, I continued. 'These things I feel about you. Are you putting them in my head?' She smiled lightly, and I knew she was. 'Do you feel that?' She said. 'What?' 'Do you feel that I am capable of putting thoughts and feelings into your mind?' 'I- Yes, I do.' 'There is your answer.' It took me a moment to work out that she'd actually made me feel that. She'd answered my question exactly the way I'd first thought to ask it. 'Yes, I am capable of sending strong emotional impulses to people,' she clarified, 'for example...' A wave of superiority washed over me, and I suddenly began feeling above her and everything else. Then, it changed, and I felt below her, below everybody, destined only to serve. I realised I recognised this. Firstly from work, and secondly, from the car ride up here. 'I like to use this one a lot,' She whispered, 'I'm a natural dominant.' Next, I felt incredibly overjoyed, at peace with the world. Then came disappointment, unhappiness. She gave me a few more examples, the last one being extreme arousal. This one didn't wash away. 'I already know exactly what you crave...' She whispered, crawling sexily to me. 'And I will change myself to fit exactly with that. You will have the most fun you can possibly imagine,' her soft voice whispered, drawing me into her control, 'and it will be, in every way,' she paused for effect, 'Perfect.' She raised her right hand and used it to hook my head gently closer to hers, meeting me with a soft kiss. As we it happened, she slowly got more aroused, sucking on my lips and adding the occasional lick. She kept it going though, only breaking the connection to re-initiate it with a new kiss - to have another soft suck at my lips or flick them lightly with her tongue. As she worked to arouse me, I felt my consciousness slipping away, but unlike in the car, I willed it to happen now, openly wanting her to control my thoughts. She obliged quickly, and a minute later my final independent thought was replaced with erotic imagery. Her mind openly filled mine, and I actually heard her minds' voice echoing in my own. It spoke softly of the most arousing things; of deep, sensual lovemaking, of violent, loud, animal rutting, of her pleasuring my body in more ways than I'd imagined in my life, of me serving her the same incredible erotic acts. I simply let me body go, knowing one-hundred percent that she'd take control of it too. She did, and with it I surrendered fully to her will. Admittedly, she was brilliant. No part of me was left hanging. Simultaneously, her mind fully occupied my body and hers, moving them together as one. Later, I would have a memory of her exclaiming how totally I let myself go, and how much she was able to take me over. Her mind became a part of my own and the two were one. As such, our bodies were more synchronised than they ever could have been without her mental control. As for the physical, my hands removed my pants, and hers did likewise, and then we were both naked. Her ample breast rest lightly on my own chest, and her already wet slit lightly tickled my meat, which, no doubt thanks to her, was harder than if I'd taken a bottle and a half of Viagra. She ran her hole over it, full length, from the very bottom of her slit just on my head, right down, slowly, pressingly, until my balls were pressed just above her vagina. She continued this fucking of my cock, without it actually entering her. She supplied the most incredible moans, her breathing coming fast with the activity. She did this until she was leaving my shaft soaked, every stroke up and down wetting it more. Once she was wet enough, she raised her hips and looked down at my cock. As if it knew, it hardened even more, and she sat down on it. It slid in perfectly, popping in between her vagina lips easily with the pre-cum covering both my dick and her hole. By now of course both were de-sensitised, so she proceeded to bounce herself up and down on me, her tits flopping after her. I just put my hands on her hips and let her lead. Despite her total control over me, I felt myself nearing orgasm all on my own. Obviously one so powerful that even my great Mistress couldn't dictate its arrival, she merely sped up, moaned louder and brought herself to the same climax. When they hit, they hit together, and they hit hard. Her vagina tightened so hard around me that the cum was literally squeezed out of me, and, both thanks to the intense arousal and her vagina's pressure, caused it to shoot out like a bullet from a gun. I felt it firing out so hard that it hit her back wall, and combined with her pressure around it, made the rubbing - for she was still bouncing up and down on me, riding me hard - twice as intense. I felt the orgasm come and go, and was building another one within minutes. Obviously, she had the power to override the frequency restrictions on men. Just as well, as her slit began to tighten again, and I knew she was ready to go again. I, for one, was more than happy to oblige her. By the time she deemed we needed a position change, we'd cum three times, and it was beginning to pool below our genitals. To fix this, she made me lick it up. And that I did, cleaning our juices off the bed. Meanwhile, she arranged some pillows and a beanbag on the floor in front of the bed, and laid herself across them, stomach down. Once the bed was suitably clean, she made me come over and kneel behind her. If I'd had any mental will power, I'd have known what she wanted without her needing to tell me, but as I was totally under her control, she directed my head towards her rear. Without hesitation, I dove in and have her dripping vagina and asshole the licking they deserved. I barely stopped to breathe, and when I did, it was as close to her as I could, sniffing in her sweet scent. I dug in like it was the first meal I'd had in a week, and her labia was red and fully exposed by the time I was done. Without a word, she instructed my mind to stand and enter her, and my body responded. I stood, grasped my rock hard cock, and pressed it into her vagina from behind. She let out a moan from her position over the bags, and I took that as more than all I needed to continue. I gave it to her hard, practically shoving her off the mound of bags and pillows, but she held on, screaming out with every thrust. I filled her totally, and I left nothing to chance, adding a finger to her clit. As if she needed more stimulation, she built an orgasm twice as fast, and I felt her tightening around me in what was by now the signature Mistress is About to Orgasm sign. As if it knew, my cock began to pulse as well, and I knew she was making me orgasm with her. We did, and I cleaned her out for good measure. She rolled off and kissed me hard, sucking her juices into her own mouth from mine, before returning to the bent position. Again, I knew her wishes, of course, and I grasped my meat again and pressed it into her tight pink asshole. The stretch was enough to make me orgasm, and, one mind, one body, it made her orgasm too. It shot out of her vagina, literally splattering on the backs of her legs kneeling below her groin. I didn't take notice of this one though, as the cum from my cock lubricated up her rear and I plunged forward, fucked the life out of it. I must say that it expanded exponentially, were by the end, I was fitting quite comfortably in her. I was only slightly surprised when I felt her asshole tighten almost stronger than her vagina had, but only slightly, and I forced myself further into her. It brought an orgasm out and as usual we came together. Again I filled her asshole, and again she splattered her legs. This time, however, I extracted myself, feeling absolutely sore by now despite all her mind's supressing, and bend down, sensually cleaning her legs with my tongue and fingers. She seemed surprised at this, and I must say that I felt as though the idea had come about all on its own. Nevertheless I cleaned them up for her, and she rolled off the mound of soft things, flat onto the floor. I laid over her, to the side, my limp body resting lightly on my Mistress's. We stayed like this, only breaking the stillness for the occasional kiss. No words - or thoughts - needed to be shared. We simply lay, as one. Half an hour of relaxing later and I felt myself again, and well rested, too. Odd, considering the fucking intense day I'd had, but thanks no doubt to Mistress's mind. I stood slowly, stretching as though I'd just been asleep, which, in a sense, my mind had been. I grabbed my shirt and hers, helped her up, kissed her passionately, and helped her to put the shirt on. By now, she looked visibly tired. I worried about her, and asked about it, but she merely waved me off and told me she'd need to sleep soon. Nevertheless, she sat on the bed coyly, tapping the space next to her in an inclination to sit. I did so, unworried about my almost-nudity. 'So,' she said through a long sigh, 'Any questions now?' 'Well...' I thought, thinking back through our intense fuck session, 'I do have one. How did you make me cum so many times, and so frequently?' She smiled warily, but not unkindly. 'Firstly, the "inbuilt" restriction on men's ability to orgasm, one that usually dictates a rest time of about twenty minutes, lies in the mind. If I have control over your mind, I have control over your mental restrictions. This one is no different, merely harder to reach. As for being able to produce mass amounts of it time and time again, the answer also lies in the mind. The mind controls the balls with hormones, which, ironically, the testicles produce. I simply made them produce more of the hormone that tells them to produce the fluid in orgasms, semen. Essentially, I put them on overdrive for an hour or two. You wouldn't have felt it, but they produced nearly eight times the normal amount, which gives you, if you carry the average amount most men do, nine fully juiced orgasms. Most men can make one normal one, and perhaps a slightly drier one. I put you into mass production, and hence, you had enough for nine stored.' 'Oh my god... That's incredible...' was all I could think to say. 'Anything else? Please don't be afraid to ask any questions you have. I won't read them, you may ask freely.' She sounded tired, but her voice was eager and her eyes sparkled. 'Well...' I mused. I knew there was something else. 'Ah! Did you tell me to clean off your legs at the end?' 'No, I didn't.' 'But you had total control over me. I wasn't thinking anything for myself; how could I have had an independent thought?' She ran a hand fondly over my face as she spoke. 'I slowly gave you back control as we went. Like the frog in the saucepan metaphor, I slowly gave you back your will so you wouldn't notice, and so that you'd continue going ahead one hundred percent without any inhibitions. Believe it or not, at the end, about when you had your last orgasm, you were running totally off your own mind.' My face said it all; I was shocked, but some part of me knew it. It explained my question perfectly. 'I'd like to add,' she went on, 'that you let me in really damn well.' I listened intently as she spoke. 'And I mean really damn well. You consciously, fuck, voluntarily moved your own consciousness out of the way for me. You made it incredibly easy, to the point where I was able to inhabit you totally. It wasn't the stress it usually is because you let me use your mind. Often it takes concentration to forcefully inhabit someone like that, but with you, it was like...' She paused while she thought of the words, 'it was like you wanted me to think for you. Like you wanted me to be your mind. Quite simply, I've never felt anything like it before. Thank you.' She smiled up at me, and I found myself smiling back. The latest edition of Mental Metal came out today. I read it eagerly, expecting some new nuggets of information possibly relevant to her. What I found was relevant, but not exactly what I wanted to hear. "Theoretical research into the side effects of mentally altering chemicals recently performed by the scientists at GMDI revealed several staggering and possibly lethal effects on the fragile human mind. GDMI's scientific consultant for psychological issues states that "there are little known facts about mind altering chemicals, and we are still in the infantile stages of discovery in regards to this field of science. But make no mistake; this, like any other chemical, has effects on the human body. As far as the human race is concerned, everything has a positive and a negative. There are hundreds, if not thousands of positive effects mental chemistry could have. But, do not be blinded by the fool's gold that is mental chemistry; it is a dangerous and lethal area, and there are equally as many negative effects it will have on the human body and mind as well as positive ones that we simply do not know yet, and quite possibly will not know for many years yet. Our recent studies based on computer generated models show that while there may, and there is a very big if on all of this, be some "positive" effects on the human brain, such as enhanced telepathic power, increased stamina and will power, the negative effects equal or even overpower the positives. The infinitely small and delicate pathways in the mind on our models degraded tenfold under the stress the enhanced power flowing through them put them through. Within ten years after "initiating" the chemical reaction, some of the pathways had broken down completely. Irreparable damage of the neural pathways can lead to total brain failure. Of course, these pathways break and rebuild every day in our minds, but the chemical reaction and the sheer power thereof simply burns them out like a massive voltage travelling through an earphone cord. The cords, inevitably, burn out, melt, and die. To anyone stupid enough to experiment with the chemicals capable of having this effect, if there were any, I would say this; cease immediately. Though it may be too late, stop whatever reckless experiments you may be making, as, I guarantee you, you will do nothing but kill yourself trying." Where do I Begin? Could this mean that her power, ever present, ever increasing, is actually killing her? If this was right... She could be dead in a matter of years. On another note, my memories of the situation are slowly becoming crisper; as though with every day I add a new colour or texture to them. Today I remember what it felt like to be inside her; to occupy her body in the way all sexual intercourse demands. It's like nothing I've ever felt before. And with it came another realisation, one even I aren't totally comfortable with. I think I love her. After our second fuck session, she retired to her bedroom. She said little more to me, though, I did not feel as though it was my fault. Simply, she was tired and in need of rest. She'd put out a lot of effort today, manipulating two minds at once, and going through two massively long erotic sessions. She did explain to me, however, before she left, that while she occupied me, my mind went into a sort of sleep, a resting similar to a coma but with must more activity. It, and the fact that she'd been channelling refreshing thoughts to me, meant that I felt totally refreshed and rested up. After she went to bed, I sat down at the table to think about my day. As with her, clothes weren't really important inside. The air was heated and warm, and nobody cared what you wore since it was only her and I. I sat in my large shirt, rested my head on my hands and thought. For the first time that day, I felt alone. Not in a bad sense, but left to my own thoughts. I recapped the day in my head. I got up, fucked around, drained a can of MindLess, went to work, found her waiting for me, fucked in the car, came here, talked, fucked some more, and now I was sitting in this place with nothing but a large shirt covering me and thinking. For the first time, I took in my surroundings. I was in a spacious living room, modern in its décor, with a quality bench top and pup stool get-up, a large living room table, couch, TV, and other various furniture. There was an incredible view of wide, untainted land - untainted by the hand of man, that is - stretching as far as the eye could see. Green grass, trees. It was late afternoon and the sun cast a beautiful gold over the land, and for the very first time in more years than I could count on my hands, I felt happy. Peaceful. Content - content with myself, content with what was around me, content with the world. I was content to be me, and to be with her. She was magical. I had absolutely no idea how she came to be a part of my life, or more to the point, why, but I was incredibly glad that she did. She'd already changed me so much that I felt invigorated, refreshed, ready to tackle any shit that you'd care to throw at me. And I truly did. Had she asked me to, without any mental shit, I'd have run a marathon for her, cooked a five course meal and cleaned the entire house, anything. You name it, and for her, I'd do it. Even for the sheer beauty she possessed alone, mental powers aside. Something was troubling me though. Her tiredness seemed more pronounced than even the extreme fatigue I'd seen before. She almost looked... Older. As if she had put on a few years since she first appeared in that store. I dismissed the thought with a wave though, as though I was talking to someone about it. No, I theorised out loud. No, she'd just been working hard, doing more than any human possibly can. Surely that'd take it out of a girl? She'd be fine after a sleep. I figured that was a good idea myself, looking back out the window, seeing the sun had gone down and darkness was spreading across the lands. I'll rest too, I thought, and be ready for whatever tomorrow may bring. I went into the first bedroom I'd seen, the spare one, where the bed was made. This was where I'd gone before when I first arrived, after my shower, and found a made bed and a set of clothes. Obviously, she wanted me to sleep in here. No problem. I tucked myself down, turned over, and was asleep in minutes. Part 5 I woke up the next morning to a soft set of lips around my penis, and smiled instinctively. No take-a-moment-to-remember-where-I-am like in the movies. I knew where I was and I knew what was happening. Thanks, no doubt, to her. Sure enough, I opened my eyes slowly, looked down and saw her head bobbing up and down over my crotch. Her lips were soft, slippery, and her tongue cleaned whatever was inside that mouth. I laid back and closed my eyes, content with the sensations she was providing me. I knew, instinctively - or rather she told me, mentally, that her right hand was down below the bed, two fingers sliding in and out of her vagina. I felt her around my fingers too, felt her as though she were me, and I her. Again I smiled at this. Why don't you bring it up here for me to clean? I calmly thought. Obviously a good idea, I was rewarded with a fast tracked orgasm, which she sucked up totally. Then, she climbed up onto the bed and over my body properly, and I saw her beautiful nude body. There were no signs of fatigue or weariness here; she was as springy as a teen and as beautiful as... Well, a goddess. She climbed up over me, positioned her hips over my waiting face and lowered herself. I met her, ready, and began to eat the fuck out of her vagina before she had even gotten comfortable. I sent shockwaves of energy pulsing from between her legs and she squeezed her thighs around my head, but I kept on going with everything I had, and soon enough she came and I lapped it all up. When she'd finally stopped flowing, she repositioned, climbed down so she was over me, and looked down on me. 'Morning, sexy hunk.' 'Morning Mistress.' She gave me a playful slap on the face, and I returned it with a slightly rougher slap on the breast dangling over me. She giggled and lowered herself down onto me. 'What's planned for today?' 'Well,' She paused to kiss me, 'I was thinking we could eat, chat, you know, chill out for a few hours, maybe play a game or something, have a few fucks, and while we're at it, I'll help you with your application to that high-end IT joint. Then, a few more fucks, maybe go out for dinner, fuck some more, and go to sleep. That sound alright to you, babe?' I paused my gently rubbing of her back to look up at her. 'That sounds fucking perfect, how the fuck did you think of that?' She giggled and flicked some of my hair back lovingly. 'I didn't,' she whispered, 'You did.' 'Oohh, that explains the amount of fucks we have then...' I said, laughing. She giggled too, her chest bouncing on mine. We both laughed, kissed, and lay with each other. Never had I felt so damn happy in anybody's presence. She was my world. 'I'll never forget you for this,' I said. 'I'll always remember what you did for me.' Her smile faded, and I asked her what was wrong. 'It's...' she stammered, 'You won't be able to remember me... I have to replace your memories, remember?' she said, and once again, I saw the intense sorrow in her eyes. 'No, I don't remember that!' I said, in mock anger, 'You think you told me and then replaced it?' I said, cracking a smile. She appreciated the effort I'd made to lighten up her mood and smiled back. 'You know, once there was a time when a joke would be the absolute last thing you'd think to say to a girl.' She said to me. 'Yes, and once there was a time when I hadn't met you.' She awed suitably. 'Wait,' I said, 'even a shitty joke like that?' 'Especially a shitty one like that!' she laughed, kissing me playfully. She jumped up, gave my cock an affectionate kiss and asked what I felt like for breakfast. 'My dear, you're the one with the incredible mental abilities,' I said in a posh voice, 'So you must already know the answer to that question.' 'Not yet I don't,' she said, and she placed a finger on her temple and pretended to try incredibly hard to read my mind. 'You want... Bacon and eggs on toast!' She said, giggling. 'Wrong!' I shouted, jumping up out of bed and crossing to her quickly. I gave her a rough kiss. 'Punishment for every incorrect guess is a kiss.' 'And if I get three wrong guesses?' 'You fuck me.' 'Well, my next guess is a plate of rocks and a side serve of grass.' 'Now you're just being silly!' I said, taking a playful swipe at her. She dodged away, giggling, covering her breasts with her hands. Saying something about covering body parts needing a tougher punishment and laughing, I chased her, aiming my hands at her ass. We ran around the house like this, naked, variously dodging and playfully whacking each other's genitalia. It ended up on the kitchen bench with said genitalia locked together, but hey, that's the punishment you get for running away. She was right. I was a changed man. Hell, I was a brand new man. Gone was the me that desired only a can of MindLess, the guy who's life was one bland grey, totally uninteresting, fit for nothing. Now, my life was full of colour and fun, everywhere I went was a brand new exciting unexplored interest, everything was fun. She'd literally changed my life, and for as long as possible, I'd never forget her. When I was chasing her around, I almost forgot her mental powers over me. It was almost as though we were out own couple. Just a normal couple, lovers doing lover things, fucking, laughing, playing, being naked, stuff like that. I lost any cares I still had, and I found myself never wanting the moment to end. The moment was to end, though, but not that day. In fact that day would be the best of my life. The next day, however, would involve the worst bit. The goodbye. That day, we did exactly what she'd planned - we ate and chatted, during which she told me about how she "changed" herself to fit her chosen ones, fucked, chatted more and fucked again. 'How do you, what's the word, change yourself to each guy or gal you pull in?' I asked her over a coffee and a mug of hot chocolate (with extra chocolate.) She idly massaged her boob while I asked. My dick was sore already after another multiple-orgasm fuck session. 'That's a good question,' she said, dropping the boob and turning to me. 'And an interesting one. Believe it or not, I can change my physical appearance a little to suit different things.' I did a double take. 'You can change your looks?' I asked loudly. 'No no no, not the way you're thinking,' she said, 'I can't just shape shift. But I can use a similar method to how I made you produce ten times the semen. Hormones in the mind are told where to go, and as I have control over my mind, and more specifically, its subconscious processes, I have total control over my body. Hence, I just send massive amounts of a hormone to a part of my body, say, my vagina, hormones that tell the cells there to expand. With enough concentration and time, I can almost double my size.' She winked. 'Luckily, you knew your size, so I didn't have to guess and force it when we met.' I grinned a little sheepishly. 'But, I can also restrict the hormone flow, slowing the process, or, for a rapid response, send a totally different hormone telling the cells to shrink. In this way, I can alter the way I look slightly.' She looked at me sideways. 'You want me to have bigger breasts?' I was secretly happy with them, but for the sake of the conversation, I nodded. 'This time tomorrow, I'll have put on eight and a half centimetres.' My jaw dropped. 'That far?' 'Absolutely!' she said confidently. 'Measure me now, and I promise you, they'll look twice as big tomorrow.' 'Fucking amazing...' I whispered. 'And before you ask, I can do a similar thing for you.' Again I looked at her in shock. 'If you ever wanted a bigger cock, I'm your gal.' She winked again. 'But I think you're big enough for me, baby.' She grinned, and so did I, leaned across the bench and gave me a kiss. 'I'm going to shower, hun. Believe it or not, I am still human, and I get sore too, so, no sneaky shower-fucking right now, ok?' She grinned again. 'Not right now, anyway.' I agreed. 'Of course. Take your time, babe. I'll be here.' She looked at me, and in that moment I was well aware that I wasn't going anywhere without her command. 'Of course you will be.' She turned and sauntered sexily to the bathroom, her shirt "accidentally" falling off her shoulders as she went. I stared at her swinging ass until it disappeared into the bathroom, with her only pausing to send me a sly wink in the doorway. 'What a fucking amazing gal...' I said softly after her. I just realised that I never described her hair. Believe it or not, I never even noticed it until that second day at her house. It was long and bright, a golden blonde. It was practically a bright yellow, it was so bright, and incredibly smooth and clean. Usually, I was a guy who preferred dark-haired lasses, but hers was a very pleasant exception to that rule. The rest of the morning was whiled away variously lazing around and relaxing with her. We spend those hours lounging around on the couch, chatting about whatever came to mind, watching TV, being all cute together. After several hours of simply being content in each other's presence, she brought out her laptop and plugged a USB into it. I came and sat next to her - giving her cheek a gentle peck, making her smile - while she brought up a document. I had a look and to my surprise saw that it was my unfinished resume, the one I was writing to that high-end IT Company. 'I thought we could get on and do this now,' she started, 'so that, when you're done here, you can pop down and apply. With my help, I guarantee you'll get it!' She said, looking at me and winking. For a second, and only for a second, I wondered if she meant her help writing the resume, or her help doing some mental tricks on whoever I applied to. She began highlighting big chunks of text and deleting them. I started to protest but her mind shushed me and I sat back. 'I know you put some effort into this but this whole section here is totally irrelevant,' she said, 'you don't even need to say how old you are on here. Working age, which you obviously are because you have a job, is plenty.' By the time she was done, there were only three lines of my own text on the page. But she wasn't done there. She took a deep breath, straightened her back, and began to type. I felt her grabbing relevant pieces of information from my head and they appeared on the page. Before long, the whole page was full of well organised, bullet-pointed facts. I merely sat and watched as she worked. Each section was obviously titled, its details laid out below. Everything was relevant, too - none of the space-filling I had done in my old version. Ten minutes later and she'd produced a professional document. She printed several off, went to fetch them from her printer, and on returning, handed one to me. I read it over. It felt like I was holding the application for a 40-odd very successful businessman, not a mid-twenties guy living in the shittiest apartment block of the city. 'There you go! Now, how hard was that?' She asked me, kissing my forehead. 'Now, go and put those in your room and then come back.' I did as I was told, taking them to the desk in my room. While I was in there, I opened the blinds to let the light in and folded back the bed neatly. It was still in the mess I'd left it in after I finished eating her out on it. I straightened everything up a little. Then, I realised exactly what I was doing. I never straighten things up. My apartment was a mess of un-straightened, un-organised crap. And here I was, making my bed look good and arranging things. Jesus, she must have really worked some magic on me. I plodded back down the corridor to the kitchen to see what was next on the list and found her spread-eagled on the kitchen bench with her hand between her legs. 'Oh, there you are!' She exclaimed, out of breath, 'Just the person. Could you possibly help me with this little problem I have between my legs?' She said. I helped her 'itch' by fucking it hard. I climbed the bench, threw off my shirt and without further ado plunged my suddenly-rock-hard cock into her. It went in without even a hint of uncomfortableness, and I rutted her long and hard. With all the sex, I was surprised her - or for that matter, I - weren't red raw and bleeding by now, but we weren't, so I continued with gusto. Five minutes and the bench was developing a pool of cum dripping from above. I filled her vagina and then flipped her on her front and widened her asshole. I put in two fingers and stretched it wide, making her let out a long and loud moan. She kept moaning as I pushed my meat into her, and only stopped when I was balls deep. Then, I began to pull myself out. She began to moan again as I slowly, slowly withdrew my length from her ass hole, until I was right out of her. My head hovered an inch away from her ass hole, a string of cum connecting the two still. Then, I leaned forward again and pressed into her. I repeated this, getting a little faster each time. Each time, she let out a moan that would only stop when I stopped pushing. Eventually, I was thrusting quite fast and she squeezed her ass around my length, increasing the sensations and bringing me to orgasm. She put her hand down to her crutch and fingered herself, and together with my butt-fucking, she orgasmed too. Both our orgasms lasted quite a while, and when it was done she brought her soaked fingers back to her mouth and sucked them clean. Meanwhile, I removed myself, stepped off the bench and stretched my back. I began to walk over to the couch to sit down, but I froze. No. I was frozen. By... Her. She had turned herself again and was sitting, legs up in front of her but still spread, staring at me with an intensity that would have shattered stone. My mind went blank. I turned to face her while below my cock returned to a fully-hardened state. 'I'm not done with you, Mister...' Her voice echoed through my head. It was mesmerising, beautiful, entrancing... By the time I'd finished with what her voice was, I was already back on the bench. I crawled up to her, leaning against the wall. Her still-dripping vagina came into view and my first thought was to suck it's sweetness, but she directed me to turn and lay on her. I did, getting my head comfortable in between her legs. I could feel her juice through my hair, and it was hot as fuck. My hand began to stroke my penis slowly, while at the same time, her hand lifted my head a little and her fingers entered her. We stayed like that for a good fifteen minutes, relaxing and stroking, my mind as blank as a fresh canvas. I was simply content to be where I was. Then, I sat up and she lay down a little more on the bench behind me. I lay back down, and this time I was in her arms. She held me with one arm, gently tracing my chest, while her other began to stroke my cock. My hand found and entered her vagina. She held me there like that for a while longer, until she became bored and sped up. I responded with my fingers. She pulled me off and I splattered my belly. Not long after, I felt my fingers get soaked in warm juice. She exhaled a long breath, and I closed my eyes. For a while, there was just stillness. I lay in her arms, content as a baby, and she caught her breath. A while later - for all I knew, I'd fallen asleep with my head on her breasts - I woke. She was there straight away, gently instructing me to sit up. I did, and she climbed down. She came around my front and slowly cleaned all the cum from my body. Then, she sat and I returned the favour. Afterwards, she eloped to her bedroom for a while and I took a shower. The (Temporary) end. ADDITIONAL: The Breaking of the Mind Discovery, extract from 2015 science insider: The mind is and always has been one of the focal points of scientific curiosity. Beyond all else, the very thing that enables us to think and wonder as we do has been the one thing that has been out of our investigative grasp. But this year, that changed. Where do I Begin? In a leading scientific biological research facility, the world recognised neutral organisation spearheading the campaign into the unknown about our very selves, a discovery was made this year that shattered the egg-shell on the mental unknown. This year, a new chemical branch was discovered - something only found in living multi-cellular organisms - more so, it is only found in incredibly small quantities in living cells. More than that, it's a chemical so small, but yet so dense, that it should occupy both the atomic numbers '2' and '129'. Hence, it, and the five other chemicals discovered not long after it, were grouped into their own chemical table. They were examined, tested, extracted. And they wasted no time in applying the chemical prefix set aside years before - 0-1. 0-1 would be applied to all chemicals that affect biological progress - moreover, mental ones. And that's the thing with these chemicals. They affect mental processes specifically. From now on, anything with 0-1 on it would be known and recognised as a mind altering product by law. An important thing to note on mind altering agents bearing the 0-1 prefix is that they cannot be traced. The fact that the whole process that alters the mind actually has to happen in a living brain means that it's nigh on impossible to even detect it happening, let alone trace it afterwards or mimic it happening. It's an incredibly small, organic reaction that has no side effects, by products or waste traces. . . . . .