The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Six hours later

Matthew Freeman’s Historic Suite, the Waldorf Towers Hotel—New York City

Kimberly, woke up, coughing lightly as she discovered that her throat was dry. Not surprising, after all the screaming she had done over the last few hours. She extracted herself from her location, taking care not to wake up Tanisha, the black woman that Matthew had collected the previous night at the Peacock Alley restaurant. Tanisha had collapsed and fainted from ecstasy on top of Kimberly after getting fucking from behind by Matthew. Embarrasingly, Kimberly had fared little better, with Matthew destroying her pussy right after he had fucked his new black slave senseless.

As she sat up, she discovered that Matthew had fallen asleep near the head of the bed. She remembered him being ridden by Helen as she was drifting in and out of consciousness due to exhaustion. Kim shook her head. Both Matthew and Helen were monsters in bed. Even with her physical training she could keep up with neither one of them. More than likely they had fucked long after she had lost consciousness.

Kim also discovered that Helen was not in bed with them. She put on a pink full slip and walked to the nearby table. It was the manila envelope Sharon Baxter had given Matthew the previous day. She suddenly recalled Sharon Baxter mentioning that these file folders also included ‘previous identities worth mentioning’ of ‘Ascended Ones’.

She had not had an opportunity to ask Matthew about it yet. Her instincts as an agent kicked in.

Silently she crept out of the bedroom and into the living space. Switching the lights on, she took a seat at one of the Bergere armchairs and pulled out the file folder. She placed the manila envelope on the coffee table and opened the file. She instinctively flipped through the pages until she found the profile of Vincent H. Lancaster.

A picture of him was there, and included beside it was his name, ‘Azrael,’ along with everything that Sharon Baxter had said. She also remembered that Sharon mentioned the ‘Order of Kings’.

As she read the file, her eyes focused on the data entry that read ‘AGE’. Her eyes went wide. This couldn’t possibly be right, she thought, reading the entry softly, “Age: estimated at 12,000 years?”

She read through the rest of Lancaster’s file. The section that was labeled ‘Current Status’ was something she had read before and was no real surprise, since the Alpha Agency had provided her with a significant amount of background information, but when Kimberly read on to the section on ‘Past Known Identities’, her expression changed from befuddlement to disbelief.

“Corantor the Gentle…ruler of Atlantis from 9500BC to 9000BC?,” Kimberly read, her eyes wide with doubt and astonishment. She continued on reading, entry after entry.

“Reappeared as Antilochus, Prince of Pylos…Myrmidon of the Trojan War from 1199-1174BC”

“Traveled extensively as a nameless traveling scholar from 510-470BC, voyaging as far as China.”

“Reappeared as Krassus Flavus Valentinianus, served as a Roman general in the Felix Legions from 75-30BC, when he defected, then traveled under various names between 29BC and 240AD.”

“Reappeared as Unther Dragonson, Defender of Mont Saint Michel from 598-621AD…, and following the withdrawal of the Roman Empire, became a wandering merchant from 630-800AD under different names and identities.”

“Reappeared as Alexis the ‘Longsword’ Claremont, a lord and knight of the Baron’s Crusade in 1096, then joining the Knights Templar and serving the Kingdom of Jerusalem until 1141, in which time he and the Order of Kings moved their base of operations to Jerusalem. During this time, the Order of Kings, through the instruction of Azrael, Anointed Knights in an effort to kill the Soul Collector. None survived.”

“Reappeared as Giuseppi Jacopo Vanasari, an Italian noble in Florence from 1266-1301AD”

“Wandered until his reemergence as Ieyano Ryu-kai, the Masked Warlord in the Omi Province of Japan, defected to serve under Oda Nobunaga until his assassination from 1560-1582 AD.”

“Spent much of the following centuries in obscurity, but emerged as Captain William Winthrope, a naval officer of the Fifth Coalition and the United Kingdom, achieving naval success in the Battle of Copenhagen on September 2, 1807, but disappeared soon after.”

“Remained in relative obscurity, until he was discovered to be living in Turkey, taking the identity of Tanazi Mahmahdi, a wealthy market owner from 1870 to 1900.”

“Went under the name Benjamin Holiday in 1915-1940, becoming a successful gangster that worked with numerous crime families, specializing in the illegal smuggling of liquor into the United States, mainly through New York. Increasing pressure from authorities forced him into hiding in the Cayman islands, where he established the identity of Henry Bronson, starting a chain of hotels in 1975, making hundreds of thousands of dollars.”

“Moved to the mainland United States under the name of Vincent H. Lancaster in 1989 and established a computer distribution corporation that struggled until the mid-90’s, when sudden increases in computer sales produced millions. Continued to receive additional funds from Cayman island hotel revenues until he sold his share in 1998, before finally establishing a highly successful company named Legends, Incorporated., which owns other more well-known talent agencies in California.”

Kimberly slowly placed the file folder on the coffee table.

It couldn’t be true, could it?

Her expression was one of genuine astonishment. She stared at the file folder for several minutes, not knowing what to make of everything she had just read.

“Kimberly?” she suddenly heard. At the doorway to the balcony, she saw Helen, wearing a white diaphanous negligee with lace trimmings that showed every perfect curve of her body. “What’s wrong, honey? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Helen asked with concern in her voice.

“It’s this file…on Vincent Lancaster,” Kim pointed to the envelope.

“Oh? Why don’t you tell me all about it over a nice cup of hot choco?—and I don’t mean Tanisha.” Helen winked, and the two women laughed at the joke.

“Yvette!” Helen called.

From the balcony the pretty blonde emerged, still wearing her French maid outfit and collar. Helen told her to prepare some hot chocolate, and she disappeared into the kitchen and reappeared moments later carrying a tray with two mugs. She handed one to Kimberly and the other to her mistress.

“Thank you, Yvette.”

“My pleasure, Mistress.”

Helen smiled. “Footstool.”

Kimberly shot a curious glance. She wondered what Helen meant, but then assumed Helen was telling Yvette to retrieve the Ottoman from the sala nearby. But insead, Kim watched with fascination as the beautiful blonde got down on all fours in front of Helen. Helen took a sip from her mug and then placed both of her feet on Yvette’s back, using her as a human footstool.

“Go on, Kimberly,” Helen said.

Kim nodded, licking her lips as she stole one last glance at the objectified blonde on the floor.

Kimberly explained everything, about what she had read and what she had heard Sharon Baxter talk about early on the previous day. Helen listened intently, shifting her feet from time to time over Yvette’s back, but keeping focused on Kimberly’s story.

When she had finished, Helen nodded and sighed. She gave Yvette a soft kick to the shoulder, and Yvette obediently held out her open palm. Kimberly looked with peaked interest as Helen placed the mug in Yvette’s hand. She now served as both a footstool and table, and she maintained the difficult position without complaint. Despite her concerns with what she had discovered, Kim couldn’t avoid thinking about how Yvette was like a perfect piece of furniture.

Helen cleared her throat, and kept silent for a moment, as if trying to find the right words. “Kimberly…” she said finally, “most of what you’ve read…is true.”

“What?!”

“The man you knew as Vincent H. Lancaster, was in fact, all of those people, and he did in fact, do all those things. You see, he was immortal…”

“That can’t be.”

“It is.”

“You expect me to believe that he was 12,000 years old, had all these weird mind-control powers and stuff, AND that there are at least nine more insanely powerful people like him, and no one in the world knows about them?” Kimberly spat out in one breath, her disbelief so great that she had even forgotten to call herself in the third person or call Helen her Mistress.

“Actually dear, those ten people are the Ascended Ones, members of what you know as the Order of Kings, which Miss Baxter mentioned yesterday morning,” Helen replied, “..and they are only the ten most powerful. Many more exist, though their powers are not as great as the Kings.”

“And you’re telling me that despite the fact that they’ve lived for so long, they’ve never been discovered?” Kim said skeptically.

“Why do you sound so surprised? You believe in the Power, you’ve seen Matthew and what he can do, haven’t you?”

“Well—that is—?”

“So, tell me, is it so hard to believe that this Power is not only able to enable people like Matthew to control minds, but also give them immortality?”

“I—I guess…” Kimberly nodded, still sounding a little doubtful.

“If it’s any consolation, I didn’t believe it when I first heard it, either. It’s not everyday nine-thousand year old men come waltzing into your life.”

“It says here Vincent was over 12,000 years old, not just 9,000.”

Helen smiled. “My dear, he was over 12,000 years old…in THIS century. But I met him when he was only around 8,800 years old.”

“Wait…are you saying…” Kimberly stammered, “…that you…” the words could barely escape her lips.

“Am far too gorgeous to be that old?” Helen laughed, “Yes.”

“Wait,” Kimberly stopped, her eyes wide with realization. “Did you say 9,000 years old?”

“8,800 or so.”

Kimberly hurriedly picked up the file folder.

“Something wrong, sweetie?” Helen asked, as Kimberly frantically began running her finger over the entries, ignoring the question.

“You!” Kimberly blurted, pointing a finger at Helen, not accusingly but rather in an excited manner, as if she had seen a long-lost friend.

Helen looked confused. “Me?”

“I mean, you YOU! You’re YOU!”

“I’m lost, honey, you’re not making any sense. Of course, I’m me.”

“No, I don’t mean you’re ‘YOU’, I mean it’s YOU!”

Helen shot her a confused look. “Maybe if you just calm down, honey, and explained what you’re trying to say…”

Kimberly shook her head. “OH, of course, I—I’m just excited.” Kim took a few deep breaths but wasted little time in explaining. “I just realized it. All of a sudden, you make sense.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Kimberly blushed. “Look, I’ll be honest, Helen. You’re—well—gorgeous. But ‘gorgeous’ doesn’t even begin to do you justice. You’re extremely beautiful, with your skin, your face, that golden hair, and you’ve got a body to match. For someone who is thousands of years old, you’ve got a killer body…it’s not toned, but there’s not an ounce of fat, you’ve got incredible legs, a tight ass and those big, juicy tits that are just…” Kimberly stopped herself. Her face was completely red as she realize she was actually drooling and checking out Helen’s hot body through her negligee, which hid nothing.

Helen smiled. “I’m flattered, Kim, but how does that not make sense?”

Kimberly laughed. “Sorry, Helen. I just meant that no one could possibly be as beautiful as you…”

Helen blushed. “That’s something Matthew said when he first met me.”

“And he was right.”

“Oh, STOP. There’s always someone more beautiful out there.”

“Yes, but only a few of those beautiful women ever make the history books BECAUSE of their beauty.”

Helen smiled knowingly, and Kimberly returned her smile with one of her own. She knew then that she had guessed correctly. Helen said nothing, and Kimberly knew that this sex goddess was giving her permission to continue.

“You say you met when he was 8,800 or so years of age. His only known entry at around that time was when he fought as one of the Myrmidons in the Trojan War, which most experts believe to have occurred in 1194-1184BC. He was going by the name of Antilochus then,” Kimberly said. “And that’s when he met you…”

Kimberly closed the file folder before continuing.

“A stunning beauty like no other in the world…” Kimberly said, “…your registered, premarried name was Helen Tracey Roy…Helen T. Roy. If you join your middle initial and last name, and what do you get? Helen TROY.”

Helen smiled, but didn’t say anything in reply.

Kimberly took it as a sign to move on.

“More appropriately, ‘the face that launched a thousand ships’—HELEN OF TROY.” Kimberly said triumphantly, her chest swelling with pride, and her mind buzzing with excitement.

Patiently she waited for Helen to respond.

Helen took her time, and picked up her mug, allowing Yvette below her to regain some additional support by letting her use all four limbs to support her weight and the weight of her mistress’ legs again.

“Very good, Kimberly,” Helen said softly. “VERY GOOD.”

Kimberly sighed. This discovery was—AMAZING.

“So you really are Helen of Troy.”

“Was…Kimberly. I really was,” Helen smiled.

“The face that launched a thousand ships…” Kimberly said, completely stunned.

“Actually, a thousand AND two hundred and one ships,” came a voice. It was Matthew, who now stood in the doorway between the bedroom and living space. “That’s how incredibly stunning she is. Christopher Marlowe never gave her enough credit.”

“Who’s Christopher Marlowe?” Kim asked.

“He’s the one who coined the phrase ‘the face that launched a thousand ships’.” Matthew answered.

“Oh, honey,” Helen said, blushing. “It wouldn’t have the same impact if he was going to be THAT accurate.”

Kimberly was still silent from the shock of this discovery. Helen Tracey Roy. Helen T. Roy. She was Helen of Troy…quite possibly the most beautiful woman who ever existed…

“I have like, a hundred questions for you…” Kim stammered.

“I’d be happy to answer them all, dear, but…” Helen looked to Matthew and nodded before turning to her. “First things, first.”

“So, Kim,” Matthew said, walking towards her and putting a hand on her shoulder. “Are you ready to discover a very dark secret, one even more amazing than what you just found out?”

More amazing than Helen’s past as a woman so extraordinarily beautiful that once upon a time men the world over sought her hand in marriage? Though she found that hard to believe, Kim nodded.

Matthew looked back into Kimberly’s expectant eyes. “Good. It’s time you knew the truth about what happened in New Mexico, the truth about our world, the truth about the Power, and more importantly—” Matthew looked at Helen, and she nodded in silent agreement. “…the truth about ME.”