You find yourself standing in the center of my room, naked from head to toe, as I pace around. Your head begins to follow me but with a clear of the throat your eyes refocus forward.
“Sorry, Sir,” you nervously reply.
In fact you had been scared for the last few days leading up to our meeting. I’ve been living for months inside your head. You know you said you wanted this, but now you are starting to think you could want it too much.
If I wanted I could easily grab you by our hair and fling you onto the bed. I could slap you across your face and grunt,
“Shut the fuck up. You’re mine now, bitch.”
I could choke you or yanked your head back by your hair. I could force my cock into any hole I want. I would have found that fun enough. Actually, we both would have enjoyed it. But then what? I’d have one more notch on my belt and you’d have one more notch taken from your soul.
Instead I choose to take your trembling hand in mine and gently guide you to the bed, laying you down on your back.
“Keep your hands by your side. You’re not allowed to touch me. If you touch me even once without my permission, all this ends. If you think I’m kidding, test me.”
Silently you nod.
I lie down beside you and tell you to close your eyes. At first I brush the backs of my fingers along your face.
“Do you feel how softly I’m touching you right now?”
Looking at your perfect naked body in my bed, “I could take what I want from you. You know I could. As much as we’ve talked about it, I know exactly what you like. I could take anything and there’s nothing you could do to stop me. You need to know, as much as I want all of you I just can’t fuck you yet.
My hand moves to your neck, skimming up and down from your jaw to your collarbone. I trace the lines and contours of your throat, carefully studying every inch.
“It would be so fucking easy for me to wrap my hand around your neck. We’ve talked about it so much. I’ve made you cum so many times to thoughts of me cutting off all the air to your lungs; kissing you as you blacked out. But I can’t do it. Not right now. You better be hearing me. You better be letting every silky smooth word that comes out of my mouth seep into your gray matter, and filter through the rest of your brain.”
My fingers moved along your shoulder and then doubled back, crisscrossing your throat, to your otyour shoulder. Back and forth, over and over again, gliding along your collarbone. As I do I learn things I couldn’t learn over the phone. Things you are too shy to share and small details you have forgotten about yourself like the birthmark on your neck that is slightly raised off your skin.
Holding your breath, you open your mouth as if to try to coax me to speak, signaling there is something about my words you need. As I was watching, I wondered if this happens over text, when she was sitting alone in your room, staring at your phone, waiting for the moment “…” turned into words. Had I conditioned youto be like this? And if so, what else could I condition you to be?
Finally, I relent and speak. Breaking some of the tension in the room.
“I don’t know how long this will take. I won’t be able to move on until I can recreate you from memory, as if remolding an exact replica of you out of clay.”
My fingers move from your face down to your breasts, circling around and around yournipples. I watch as your chest stretches up to meet my touch and the skin goes from soft to rigid. Colonies of goosebumps come and go in waves. Your body is shimmering from the chills running along your spine.
“Can you feel your body reacting to me? Can you feel how powerless you’re becoming? Soon you’ll know what it is like to lose control. Not just of what happens here, but of everything. The way my voice is getting inside of you, I’m claiming ownership of your conscious and your subconscious. I’ll be able to make your heart stop beating, as easily as I’ll be able to make you drop to your knees.”
The backs of my fingers continue tracing your curves, moving gradually down along your torso, from your hips to your ribs, sometimes taking a route that travels around and around your belly button. When my hand moves further south, you try to raise up off the bed, encouraging me to keep going, but every time I get to that crossroad, an invisible barrier between your stomach and your pussy stops my hand in its tracks.
“I want you to listen to me so carefully from here on out. I want you to focus on nothing but my words. Nothing else matters. Feel the person you were slip away. Shed all your insecurities and preconceived notions of what this was going to be, what it should be, and what it could be. From here on out the only thing that matters is what is.”
My fingers reexamined every inch of her, back up along your breasts to your neck, to your face and hair, and then back down, but my hand refuses to break that barrier. Each time I take a different path and every time I always end up at the same place, always bouncing off that invisible barrier.
“The only way I’ll want you is if you let go. If you really let go. It’s time for you to get out of your own way. Focus on my words, because it’s my words that are flooding into you right now. It’s my words that are pushing your hips up and down off the bed. Did you even realize this was happening? I’m not touching your clit, but my words are. Can you feel them inside of you?”
I grab your breast and then press them up into you. This practically makes you levitate off the bed. Then I pinched your nipples between my thumb and index finger, rubbing them back and forth. You tried to push up higher, arching your back. It was as if all you wanted was for me to be inside you. The only problem being that I was on the ceiling and you were still on the floor. Finally, letting go, my hand moved up to your neck and you ease your body back down.
“Look at you. Your whole body’s trembling like you’re submerged in ice. I want you to feel my words inside of you. I want you to feel how they’ve turned your brain into mush. You can’t think of anything at all right now. Even if you tried, you couldn’t stop and think about how your car needs an oil change, or how you have to go to the bank later today. All of that’s gone. All that’s left are my words. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for. You’re so fucking tired of men just wanting your mouth, your ass or your pussy, and ignoring the most erogenous part of your body. Well today’s the day all that changes. I’m not going to fuck you. I won’t even touch your pussy. Today’s going to be different. Who you were before will not be who you are when you leave.”
Your hips rotate in circles as if you are grinding against an invisible person. I speak in waves. My words go from fast to slow, slow to fast, controlling how your hips move. It feels like there are millions of microscopic strings wrapped around my words attached to each individual muscle fiber inside you. You have no idea what I’m doing. On one hand you are tired of men wanting to control your body, and on the other hand here I was with complete control of you, except, you weren’t physically tied up. I didn’t need to hold you down.
“Does it feel like someone’s on top of you right now? Does it feel like someone’s inside of you? That’s it push up into him. Those are my words inside your pussy, inside your mind. Feel yourself getting wetter and wetter. Feel your stomach tensing up. My words are controlling you. Right now, you’re powerless. All you want is to listen to me, obey me, and submit to me. That’s it. Let go. Letting go feels so good, doesn’t it? Giving yourself to me feels so fucking good.”
You bit down into your bottom lip and let out a long restrained moan, as if you were trying to fight back against my power, as if you were trying to hold it all in.
“Don’t you fucking dare do that. Let it out. Don’t try to fight this. You’ve told me over and over again all you wanted was someone to treat your mind like it was your pussy, your tits, or your mouth. Well here it is. It’s happening. My words are rubbing the clit between your ears. Accept it. Feel it. Let go. I’m so fucking deep inside of you I can see everything, all the hurt, all the love. I can see all the things you hide from me. I can see the things you hide from yourself. This is what you’ve been waiting for your whole fucking life. It’s time to free yourself. No more hiding. I know this isn’t what you thought it would be. I know this is way more intense than you could have imagined, but think for just a moment, what if. What if you got out of your own way for once in your fucking life, and lived in a moment. This moment. Right here. Right now. Just me and you. Everyone else on this fucking planet vanishing into nothing. Hear my words inside of you. Feel them on your lips, in your neck, in your breasts, in your stomach, and on your clit. That’s it. Grind against the invisible man on top of you. Fuck him. Let me have complete control over that beautiful sexy mind of yours. I want it. All for myself. It belongs to me now. Tomorrow when you are on your way to work, when you are cooking dinner, when you are trying to fall asleep, my words will still be inside of you, pinging of the walls of your skull. From this point on your thoughts are my thoughts. Let go.”
My hand cradled your face as you let out a long building moan, evacuating all the air in yourlungs.
“That’s it. Give it to me. Give me what I want.”
You gasp and your ass slowly rises off the bed.
“Cum for me. I want to feel you fucking cum to my words rubbing your clit, to my words so deep inside your pussy you can feel them tickling your brain.”
For a moment everything was frozen. You stand on the verge of cumming. Neither you nor I had touched your pussy but that didn’t stop you from squirting across my bed. Streams of your juices shoot out and you begin to cry while cumming, moaning and screaming.
“Don’t you fucking stop. Feel it. Feel me inside of you. You’re mine now. I fucking own you. Your mind belongs to me. From this day forward every time you cum, whether I’m with you or not, my voice will be inside that head of yours. How does it feel? Embrace it. Don’t. Stop. Cumming.”
and then I just whispered,
“Let go.”
Your body squirms as if you are possessed. It was like your orgasm didn’t originate in your pussy. It was like it originated in the space around you. You can feel it in your hair, your fingernails, and in the birthmark on your neck. If someone walked in to see this, it might have looked like a seizure or a stroke. It might have looked like someone had covered your body in fire ants and you were dying a death of a billion stings.
“Don’t worry,” I whispered. “I’m here. I’m still here. You are safe and you are mine. Nothing else matters. Shh, it’s OK. Let it out. I’m here for you now. You’re mine. No matter what happens from this day forward I’ll always be here for you. I won’t let go.”
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/onqa0f/mind_fucking_fictionalmf