The Power of Perfect Mind Control

When the alarm went off at five o'clock Wednesday morning, Lance groaned and stretched. As usual, he had to force himself to get up out of bed. He stumbled barefoot into the kitchen.

Then Lance stopped and blinked. Something... was different. The early dawn light, filtering in through the windows of his apartment? No, that wasn't quite it. Sleep still in his eyes? No. It was more like some odd feeling inside of him, but that didn't quite cover it, either. Maybe... maybe like when you're trying to remember something, and all of a sudden you realize you've forgotten what it was you were trying to remember?

Lance couldn't quite put his finger on it. But as he went about brewing coffee, getting breakfast, the feeling kept hovering in the background. It wouldn't go away.

Lance sat down at his small kitchen table. He turned on the radio and ate breakfast. Vague wisps of some dream from last night came back to him. A dream about some woman taking him and holding her hand over his mouth...

Lance had these mouth holding dreams several times a month. Oh gee, those dreams... Lance had always had a fetish for getting his mouth held. That wasn't the source of the odd feeling either, though it felt strangely similar.

It was ten minutes past six as Lance edged his rattletrap car out of the parking lot and onto the street. The strange feeling persisted as Lance drove to work. It wasn't at all unpleasant, but he wished he could figure it out. It was inside of him, a feeling, but it almost seemed as though everything around him was being bathed in a strange new light. Hunh.

Quarter to seven, and Lance walked up the steps and into the warehouse. In past the timeclock. Lance put his lunch in the refrigerator, and then he chewed the fat with Jerry and Lee until a few minutes before seven. Time to punch in.

That odd feeling stayed with Lance as he checked in with his supervisor Craig, and began straightening up the department. Wednesday was an easy workday, after the weekly rush of Tuesday with all those shipments to get ready to go out on the trucks. This morning there were some items to go back into storage in the other warehouse, and after a while Lance had them neatly stacked and shrink-wrapped on several pallets. He went and got a handjack, ran the forks in under the first pallet, and pumped it up into the air.

As Lance was slowly pulling the pallet past the production line, the strange feeling which had been with him all morning suddenly came into focus.

There was that blonde gal, Petra, working as usual on the production line. That big blonde gal, Petra, the one he always thought of as the "ranchgirl," as if she'd grown up and grown strong doing work on a ranch. The feeling he'd been having suddenly snapped into focus on Petra.

Lance realized what his feeling was about. He wanted really, really badly to have Petra hold her hand over his mouth. Well, that was nothing new. An attractive young blonde, slender but sturdy boned, Petra had long struck Lance as a woman who'd make a great mouth holder.

But that wasn't the whole story, either. As the morning went along, Lance found himself preoccupied with powerful fantasies of Petra holding his mouth. But fantasies like this had filled his head before. No, there was something more than that to the strange feeling. Something more than just an overpowering desire to get his mouth held by Petra.

Mid morning break. Lance and Craig wandered out to the Cage, the chainlink-enclosed area near the loading dock. Here Craig lit up a cigarette. As for Lance, he noticed that Petra was sitting alone, sitting on a stack of cardboard. Lance walked over and struck up a conversation with her. They weren't close friends, but Lance was on easy chatting terms with Petra, just as he was with most of the workers in the warehouse.

Now that odd feeling was throbbing in Lance's chest. He could hardly see straight. As he talked with Petra, he found himself staring at her, staring at her sturdy slender but big boned frame -- at her long blonde hair -- at her large large smooth strong beautiful hands. Something inside of Lance was urging him to take Petra's hand and put it right over his mouth.

No, that's crazy, Lance thought to himself! But the urge came again, all the more strongly, and it was colored by this strange feeling which had been with him all day: Go ahead, press Petra's hand over your mouth, you can do it!

Lance had had dreams where he'd gone and done something like that. But this was no dream. This was Wednesday morning in the warehouse. Take this gal's hand and press it over your mouth, boy, and they'll kick your ass right out the door! You'll be lucky if they don't call the cops!

But the feeling was getting stronger and stronger. It was like a strange light, bathing everything around him. His heart was hammering.

Then Lance did the unthinkable. Right in the middle of talking with Petra, all of a sudden Lance knelt down beside Petra and took hold of her big smooth right hand.

A heartbeat. Two heartbeats. Petra just passively let him hold her hand. Perhaps she was too stunned to react. Lance's mouth was dry like cotton, but somehow he made himself say, "Now... if you'd just... put your hand over my mouth, and then clamp your hand over my mouth just as tight as you can..."

Lance guided Petra's hand to his mouth and then the impossible happened. Petra covered his mouth with her large warm strong beautiful right hand. And then Petra clamped her work-hardened hand over Lance's mouth so incredibly hard and tight that it made his eyes water.

Oh, Lance was in heaven! His mouth was obliterated by an intense, almost white-hot sensation, oh, the sensation of Petra's beautiful but powerful hand clamped over his mouth unbearably hard and tight! White-hot mouth hold! At first he could hardly get his bearings. His consciousness was swimming in the wonderful powerful intense sensation of Petra holding his mouth so hard, with the palm of her large hand squeezed steel-spring tight over Lance's mouth. Oh, he just loved how it felt! It was bliss to have Petra holding her hand over his mouth so tight! For a little while Lance was lost in the timeless buzz of Petra's firm tight unyielding mouth hold.

Then gradually Lance became aware again of their surroundings. Here he was, in the warehouse, in the Cage, out by the loading dock, crouched down next to Petra, and she was holding her hand over his mouth incredibly tight. And here everyone else was too, over in this corner of the warehouse, on morning break.

And not a single person was paying any attention to this strange thing Petra was doing, holding Lance's mouth.

For that matter, Petra herself had fallen silent. Lance looked at the second hand on his watch. First the seconds, then the minutes, crept by. And Petra just sat there, keeping Lance gagged, with her hand clamped tight over his mouth. She raised no objection. She said not a word. Lance loved how it felt, having Petra hold his mouth like this. But this isn't the way things ordinarily work. I mean, thought Lance to himself, you don't ordinarily just take a woman's hand in mid conversation, and ask her to hold it over your mouth, and then without a word she goes ahead and does just as you asked! This is unreal!

Now Lance's watch indicated that Petra had been holding her hand over his mouth for more than five minutes. Still not a word out of her. Still not a glimmer of recognition from anybody else around them. Nobody was noticing. Nobody was looking. Nobody even glanced over at Lance and Petra.

The others were returning to work after break. Petra showed no sign of relaxing her death grip on Lance's mouth. Finally she said, "Well, I suppose we'd better get back to work." Then she let him go, and stopped holding his mouth. Lance got up. He looked at Petra. She looked pleasant, but somehow blank. With no reaction, with not a word to him, Petra walked calmly back over to the production line.

Lance walked back toward his department. That odd feeling came back over him again, that feeling he'd been having ever since he got up this morning. What in the world had just happened? It's as if... that weird feeling... it's as if, thought Lance... it's as if I can just ask someone to hold my mouth, and they'll do it.

But that's completely unreal! Things simply don't happen that way!

Lance finished out the morning wondering what strange alteration had overtaken his world. As for Craig, he acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary. He made no mention of the little scene during morning break.

Lunch time, Lance punched out and went and got his lunch. A sandwich and an apple. He stood, leaning against a wall girder as he ate. He was looking over at Petra, who was sitting there once again on that stack of cardboard, eating her lunch. Soon Lance finished his light lunch, then he waited until Petra also was finished. That strange feeling inside of him was returning. He didn't know what to make of it. It was as if the warehouse was bathed in an unearthly light.

Lance found himself sauntering over toward Petra. The closer he got to her, the harder his heart was pounding. She looked up at him as she chewed and swallowed one last bite of food. "Oh, hi," she said.

Here goes nothing, thought Lance to himself.

Without a word, Lance turned his back on Petra and sat down on her lap. He said, "I want you to put both of your hands over my mouth, and clamp your hands tight over my mouth with all your strength, and don't let me go until the end of lunch break."

Petra silently reached around from behind and put her hands one over the other, clamping them hard over Lance's mouth. Oh, his mouth was jangling like silent alarm bells with the tightness of Petra's extreme mouth hold! She was holding his mouth even tighter than before! His mouth and lower face dissolved into a burning icy zone of unbearable tightness! Lance was in ecstasy! Petra's large smooth strong hands were locked, right hand over left hand over his mouth, like a tight merciless steel muzzle holding his mouth shut.

Lance just sat there on Petra's lap, lost in the wondrous sensation of Petra's tight mouth hold. Calm, relaxed, exultant all at once... He looked around. Other people were eating lunch, and paying no attention to what he and Petra were doing.

For several minutes, Lance sat there with Petra holding her hands over his mouth, right in front of everyone. Then... Craig came walking over, like a man on a mission, sucking on a cigarette.

Oh, shoot, thought Lance.

"Say, Lance," said Craig, "there were some of the stores yesterday, we forgot to send along a copy of the new order form with their shipment. I think after lunch, let me draw up a list, I'll have you fax them the order form."

Craig just stood there, calmly saying all this to Lance as if it was all just business as usual. As Lance sat there on Petra's lap, unable to speak a word, with Petra's hands clamped incredibly hard and tight over Lance's mouth. And Craig showed no awareness that there was anything out of the ordinary. Craig seemed oblivious to the odd scene going on right in front of him, the odd scene of Lance sitting on Petra's lap, Petra holding her hands over Lance's mouth oh-so-tight.

Craig went wandering off. And Petra just kept holding Lance's mouth. It went on and on, five, ten, fifteen, twenty minutes. Just a few minutes of lunch break left now. Lance dared to reach up and feel of Petra's hands, clamped over his mouth. He could only feel the large smooth back of her outermost hand. Her thumbs were crossed over the bridge of his nose. As for her innermost hand, that was buried back in there beneath her other hand, out of reach and clamped tight over his mouth. Oh, did Lance love how tight Petra kept holding his mouth! Now he felt of her powerful forearms, lean and taut. This woman was sturdy and strong, he'd always known that, just to look at her. And now he knew it from how unbearably tight she kept holding her hands over his mouth.

Almost time to punch back in. Lance went, "Mmmmmmhh, mmmm hhmmmmm mmmmmmm hmm mmmmmmmmmhh!"

Nothing happened. Petra didn't let him go, she just kept on holding his mouth.

Lance reached up and tugged at Petra's large mouth-holding hands. She wouldn't let go. He went, "Mmmhhhhh! Mmmm hmmm MMMMMHHH!!"

Like someone in a trance, Petra said softly, "You said I shouldn't let you go until the end of lunch break."

Lance was nonplussed. He tried to get up off Petra's lap. She wouldn't let him go. She just kept holding him fast, with her hands clamped hard over his mouth.

"MMMMHHH! Hhhhmm, MMMMMMMMMHHH!" No reaction from Petra. She just kept on holding his mouth. Now Lance was pulling hard on Petra's mouth-holding hands, but he couldn't get her to let go.

The buzzer sounded the end of lunch break. Instantly Petra let go and stopped holding Lance's mouth. He got up and headed for the timeclock, with his lower face all sweaty. He punched in, one minute late. Petra was right behind him, with her timecard. Damn, docked fifteen minutes' pay! He thought to say something to her, but then Lance caught that blank, spacey look on Petra's face. He let it go.

As Lance walked back to the department, he thought to himself that he'd have to be careful with this new power of his. If he told a woman to keep holding his mouth forever...

Craig had the master copy of the new order form, though it took him a while to draw up a list of the stores to fax it to. Meanwhile Lance ran returns back into inventory on the computer. Finally Craig had the list ready, and handed it to him. Lance walked back around behind production. He saw Petra, hard at work. Then he headed up the stairs to the office.

Right before the fax machine, Lance was careful to glance at one of the cubicles as he passed by. That was where Holly worked. Holly, with her pneumatic buxom figure. Holly, with her big blonde hair. Holly, with her large smooth beautiful hands. Lance noticed as he passed that Holly was wearing a big loose beige sweater. A short dark tight skirt. And nylons.

Lance didn't really know, but somehow he thought to himself that Holly must have been a cheerleader, back in her high school days.

It took a while, but Lance finished his job with the fax machine. Now that strange feeling was coming back, stronger than ever. As if a strange light was filling the office.

Lance stopped by Holly's cubicle. His pulse was pounding. This is insane, he thought. I hardly know most of the people up here in the office.

Lance said to Holly, "Excuse me, could I sit on your lap?"

"Oh, sure." Lance couldn't believe what was happening. Holly obligingly wheeled back in her office chair. She looked up at him with a pleasant smile. Hard to read, but definitely pleasant.

Lance sat down on Holly's lap. He could smell her perfume. "Now..." Lance reached down beside him and took hold of Holly's hands. They were warm and soft. He brought her big smooth hands up in the air in front of his face. He noticed that Holly had quite long fingernails, over half an inch long. "Now, Holly, if you'll fasten your hands together over my mouth..."

Holly silently placed her hands over Lance's mouth, with her slender long-nailed fingers laced together. From behind her hands Lance managed to say, "Okeh, nuuuw Holly, efff you'll nhust cl'mmmp your handph rilly, rilly hn'ight ower mah moufff..."

Holly tightened her big warm interlaced hands, hard over Lance's mouth. Oh, did that feel good! Lance sat there with Holly in her cubicle, sitting on her lap, with Holly holding his mouth...

How could this be happening?!

Lance didn't know, but he decided just to enjoy it. There he sat, with Holly holding his mouth, her fingers laced together, her palms completely covering his lower face from one ear to the other and from his jawline up over his mouth and nose. On either side of his face Holly's thumbs pointed up straight toward his temples. Lance just let himself drift, floating in the warm pleasant sensation of Holly's unending mouth hold. And it went on and on. Lance felt somehow snug and secure, sitting here on this shapely blonde's lap, breathing through her interlaced fingers, with her soft palms pulled back firmly over his mouth. He almost felt like drifting off and taking a nap.

At first Lance wondered if Craig would notice his absence. Then Lance noticed that people in the office were just walking right on by Holly's cubicle, paying no attention at all to the very odd scene of a woman holding a man on her lap with her hands covering his mouth and much of his face...

That's what this odd feeling all day has been, thought Lance. Somehow, I've got the power now to get any woman to hold my mouth. Whenever I want. Anywhere. Anytime.

Holly kept silently holding Lance's mouth. And it went on and on like this, for a good hour. Talk about heaven! Finally Lance reached up and tugged at Holly's hands. He was relieved when Holly actually let him go, and stopped holding his mouth. He got up off her lap.

At first Lance thought of heading back down into the warehouse. But then he noticed Norma walking by. Norma, with her close-cropped black hair. Norma was one of the top executives in the company. And Lance remembered, from one time she had shaken his hand, that she had a very strong grip...

"Oh, hi Lance." Norma noticed that he was looking at her. She said pleasantly, "Is there anything I can do for you?"

The spit was going all thick in Lance's mouth, but he managed to say, "Yes, could we step into your office?"

"Certainly."

Lance followed Norma into her office. She sat down in the big swiveling chair behind her desk. "Lance, have a seat."

Lance had a seat, all right. With his head spinning, Lance wheeled a chair over right next to Norma's, and sat down beside her.

"Now," he said, "just put your arm back around... like this... behind my head... and now, clamp your hand over my mouth extremely tight."

Norma did as Lance told her. She was now holding Lance's mouth, right there in her office, with her strong smooth hand clamped hard, fastened tightly over his mouth.

Norma kept holding Lance's mouth without a word. Oh, talk about tight! This was not as tight as Petra at lunch... but this woman Norma had strong hands!

Then Lance's heart skipped a beat. The company vice-president, Frank, walked into Norma's office. And there sat Lance, right next to Norma, getting his mouth held!

But Frank acted as if nothing unusual was going on. He just carried on an ordinary conversation with Norma about sales figures for the last quarter. And Norma just sat there at her desk, continuing to hold her hand tight over Lance's mouth as she talked with Frank.

After Frank left Norma's office, Lance sat there for another ten minutes or so, with Norma holding his mouth. Then with some effort he pulled her hand away. He excused himself, and went back downstairs into the warehouse. Mid afternoon break was already past. But despite his long absence upstairs, somehow he had not been missed.

At the end of the day, as Lance punched out, he said to Petra, "Well, see you tomorrow."

She replied, "Yep, see ya." Just as if nothing unusual had gone on today.

Lance walked out the door into the bright sunlight. He was lost in thought, lost in a cloud of excitement. Ah, the power of perfect mind control! Already he was dreaming up plans for tomorrow.