The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Dawn Covy, Dove by Day

I sighed as I stretched and waited for the tinkling bell of commerce to greet me with customers and profit. It was approaching the calmest part of the day for the little hole-in-the-wall coffee shop and it was a constant strain on my mind not to reach into my pocket, pull out my phone, and surf the web. While the morning rush was a roil of chaos and confusion, the mid-afternoon lull was only occasionally interrupted by university students trying to kill time between lectures. The trees in the park across the street were visible out the narrow storefront, a flush of fiery reds and startling yellows signaling the firm grasp of an aging autumn.

Steel-string guitar and a soft fiddle dully filled the room in a dreamy stillness as the acoustics of an empty coffee shop emphasized my isolation. Three more hours and I could leave, go home, get some sleep, and then return tomorrow to start my shift anew. I grabbed one of the Cafe Press newsletters from the counter, reread the jokes, news, and horoscopes for the third time, then tucked it back into the stand with the others. Glancing at the clock I sighed again and fought the urge to yawn.

Then the jingle of a small tin bell threw a professional smile onto my face as I turned to the door and waved at the man who entered. “Good afternoon, sir.”

He stopped for a moment, his hand not quite letting the door close behind him as if he was considering a quick escape. His sunglasses hid his eyes, but his stubbled chin and easy-going hairstyle gave the impression he wasn’t the kind of person to wake up earlier than the crack of noon. A crooked and subdued grin broke out one side of his face as he said “Good afternoon, miss.” in a smooth tone and finished his entrance.

A black t-shirt hung lightly on his athletic torso and a pair of dusted denims implied he’d been busily labouring away fairly recently at some menial task. A blue rag hung limply from his hip along with a cell phone clip and a pocket knife. He smiled easily as he walked up to the counter and sat down on one of the comfortable blue stools, running a hand casually through his hair as he glanced at the overhead menus.

“What can I get you?” I asked perkily. Long hours of isolation and boredom mingled with the man’s general attractiveness to make me almost desperate for a little conversation. He may have been good looking, but he was also clearly a older than myself. The grey at his temples suggesting late thirties or early forties compared to my own mid-twenties, and that tempered my reactions to polite interest and professional courtesy.

Humming to himself for a moment in a tuneless song, he tilted his head left and right before turning his obscured eyes towards me and saying, “You certainly have lot of teas.”

“One hundred and seven.” I said with a smirk, “The largest selection in town and one hundred percent organically sourced.”

“How am I supposed to know what I want when you have so many flavours?” he asked, he smile making it clear he was playing some kind of game.

“I could make a suggestion.” I said, then gestured to the menu, “Our most popular is the Organic Liquid Refresh. It’s a combination of acai berry, grapefruit, and pomegranate mixed with black tea and mint leaves. It perks you up and provides a great dose of anti-oxidants to help you get through a stressful day.”

“What if I don’t have any stress?” he said with the beginnings of a Cheshire grin on his features.

“Well, we have been selling a lot of our Natural China Grey, which combines a traditional green tea with the homey aromas of an Earl Grey. Many of our customers swear by it and come in every morning just to get more.” I suggested earnestly. It was a policy never to lie to a customer about our products.

He waited for a moment as he thought it over, then shook his head and let his smile grow a little more charming. “What’s your least popular?” he asked eventually.

My face had been heating up lightly under his playful scrutiny, and I relished the chance to turn around and pretend to survey the menu. Once more in control of the distribution of blood around my face I turned back to him and pointed to the bottom item of the middle menu. “Well we haven’t moved very much of our Elija’s Homebrew lately. A deep-south blend grown in Louisiana by a family friend. I’m fond of it myself, but most people find it too strong. It’s kind of like a tea and a coffee all brewed together.”

“I think I’ll have a water.” he said suddenly, his face no longer bright, but slack and uninterested.

Prick.

“Are you sure?” I asked, hiding my irritation as best as I could manage.

“Are you in the habit of second guessing your customers?” he returned, the happy fellow who’d entered was apparently replaced by this serious and morose man.

I bit back a caustic reply and turned to the sink, pulled down a glass, filled it with cold water and then sat it in front of him. “Here you are sir.” I clipped, then turned to leave him to his drink.

“What if I want something to eat?” he asked just as I’d taken my second step away.

I counted to three silently in my head, then turned back to him and smiled. “What would you like?”

“Lobster.” he held his eyes on me as he raised his glass and took an infuriatingly small sip, that same playful half-smile back on his lips.

Glancing at the menu, which showed only sandwiches, salads, and yogurt, I tsked without thinking and muttered, “I think we must be out.” before crossing my arms and doing my best not to glower. At least I wasn’t bored anymore.

“When do you restock?” he prodded, the smile growing once more.

“Sunday.” I snapped sarcastically, then took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I’m sorry. We don’t sell seafood here. It’s just a coffee shop. I can make you a sandwich if you’d like.”

“How about sushi?” he tried again, his mischievous grin growing to critical levels once more.

Waiting for him to bounce back to sullen, I dropped my own smile and shook my head. “No, that’s fish. We don’t sell fish.”

“What does the name mean?” the man said, suddenly changing topics.

“Sushi? Raw fish or rice in seaweed I think.” I answered uncertainly, my eyebrow twitched angrily.

He shook his head and lowered his smile to a look of earnest curiosity. “No, I mean the name of the store. What does it mean by ‘Dove by Day’?”

“It’s just a name.” I answered curtly, unwilling to let him mock my pride and joy. “Do you want a sandwich? I can get you a salad if you want.”

“What are you by night?” he pressed.

“Closed!” I snapped, stamped a foot, gritted my teeth, and then stared at the ceiling while I counted to three again. “Look, I’m sorry, but you should buy something if you are going to sit there.”

“I bought a water.”

God save me from this asshole, I thought, then continued aloud, “I’m not going to charge you for tap water.”

“What if I wanted ice?”

“Still technically tap water.”

He cocked his head and was about to make another inane inquiry when the bell tinkled again and a woman entered. Happy to break contact with this insufferable patron I took a step towards the door and waved enthusiastically at the blonde bombshell who was brushing her golden trestles to the side and pulling down her mirrored aviators to show off her stunning brown eyes. I watched her waft through the room like a mirage before settling in a seat next to the strange patron and pursing her lips in a fake moue when she saw I was gawking.

“Some people think its rude to stare, you know.” she said in a husky pout. Then she winked and added, “Good thing I’m not one of them.”

An electric jolt ran down my spine as I realized I’d been leering at her. Me, leering at another woman! I did not swing that way yet here was a woman so well put together that I couldn’t help but drool. I quickly took a step back and tried to compose myself. “Sorry! Welcome to Dove by Day. Would you like a minute to look at our menu?”

“Only if you’re on it.” she smiled brightly, pearly white teeth alluded to under velvet red lips.

“I—” I started, unsure what I was going to say but certain I was about to start stuttering, when I was interrupted by the male patron.

“What else is free?” he asked innocently, and I suddenly wondered if he wasn’t a confirmed bachelor. He certainly didn’t seem to be interested in the woman beside him in spite of her prominent charms.

“Excuse me?” I managed after a brief mental disconnect, then turned to the blonde with an apologetic “Excuse me.” before coming back to the man with more controlled and slightly acerbic “Excuse me?”

“What else can I have that you won’t charge me for?” he repeated.

A swift kick in the nuts.

“Sir, this is a business. We don’t make a habit of giving things away.” I supplied with a glance back at the blonde who was scanning the menu with a warm smile.

He frowned, glanced at his water, and back at me and said, “Then you should charge more for the water.”

“What’s the Dragon Breath?” the blonde asked suddenly, her tone now more businesslike.

“It’s a blend of nutmeg, clover, spearmint and a hint of cinnamon to give it a spicy kick.” I repeated from memory just in time for the man to bother me once more.

“Can I get boiling water for free?” he asked while gesturing to a nearby kettle.

“I guess?” I flailed vaguely with my arms for a second before the blonde pointed to another tea.

She gestured at the premium tea’s section and asked, “How much caffeine is in the Coffee Berry Bundle?”

“Not too much,” I supplied, quickly putting a smile back on my face, “It’s more to give it the espresso flavour. We use the bitterness to temper the sweetness of the blackberries.”

Again the man divided my attention and pushed his almost full cup towards me. “Can I get a refill?” he asked with a toothy grin.

“It’s still mostly full.” I pointed out.

“Is the Mulberry Wine alcoholic?” the blonde asked, forcing me to change tracks yet again.

My temples were starting to throb as I forced myself to keep calm and said, “No, but it tastes so much like the wine that everyone thinks it is.”

“It’s just that I think I’d like fresher water.” the man informed me.

“I just poured that.” I replied testily.

Then it was instantly the blonde’s turn. I was starting to wonder how they didn’t interrupt each other. “Where’d you get the name for the Waiter Waiter Percolator?” she asked.

To which I gestured to a CD rack next to the ancient boombox on the counter behind me, “It’s a line from a song by the Ink Spots called Java Jive.”

“What if it’s already gone stale?”

“Water doesn’t get stale!”

“If I get the Aunti-Oxidant’s Cure will it make me too energetic?”

“No—”

“I think it’s starting to get flat.”

“Water doesn’t get—”

“Is the Slam Jam Barkley Brew very popular?”

“Most people use it for dunking cookies. It’s usually preferred over the—”

“And can I get ice this time? Keep it fresher longer.” the man interrupted for the umpteenth time.

I barely fought back a snarl as I pointed a finger at him and started to say “Look, you got a free water, now let me help with this—”

I didn’t get very far before the blonde cocked her head to the side and suddenly asked, “What’s the story behind Elijah’s Homebrew?”

“It’s brewed by a family friend.” the man suddenly interjected ahead of me.

“Shut up!” I screamed and slapped the glass of water away from the man. As it sailed across the counter, staying miraculously upright until a rogue napkin intruded in its path and sent it tumbling off the top and down to a shattering demise against an unoccupied stool. As the pieces of glass came to a stop and the napkin glided to a rest in the growing puddle I let out out a groan and sank to my haunches behind the counter. Resting my forehead against the cool cabinetry I felt as if I’d just run a marathon and finished only to find out my apartment had burned down.

“What about the Liquid Fresh?” the blonde asked, but I didn’t even try to look up.

The man, in his infinite wisdom, took the opportunity to take over from me. “It’s their best seller, you know. Organic as well.”

“Oh! I’ll have that.” the woman said, suddenly assertive.

“Me too.” the man declared.

I looked up at them with bleary eyes from under the counter, only her hopeful eyes and his damnable sunglasses visible from my low vantage point. Slowly rising to my feet I looked from one to the other, then back at the suddenly towering wall of tea leaves behind me. Reaching up slowly to the Organic Liquid Fresh with its heavy dose of anti-oxidants and pick-me-ups I scooped out a measured spoonful and dumped it into a french press before adding hot water from the dispenser. I placed it between them with a pair of white mugs and set the small hourglass next to them. It only lasted seven minutes, after which the tea would be ready to pour.

“That’s three forty-nine. Enjoy.” I muttered and then resumed my position below counter-level.

“Thanks.” the blonde said lightly, then muttered in a half whisper to the man, “I think we broke her.”

“You think? She’ll bounce back.” he countered.

“Can we keep her? I think she’d be great with the other girls.” the blonde said, suddenly pleading to the man as it occurred to me they’d been doing it on purpose. Slowly I took to my feet and levelled a glower at the two of them while they continued to ignore me. The blonde continued cryptically, “She’d look so good at the... company parties. I bet she dances well.”

“I could see it, but it isn’t happening.” the man said with a shake of his head, then reached for his glass of water, looked off to the mess far across the floor, then back at his empty hand which clenched a few times as if lost. “She’s not like you. She’s a Thinker.”

“Like you?” the blonde asked, then shot me a wicked grin, and winked at me before saying, “Can you do it? Say something to me!”

“What are you going on about?” I asked without energy. I was finding it hard to follow their utter inanity without some form of cliff notes. It felt like I’d missed something obvious and they were making fun of me.

That gave the blonde a pause as she shot a scowl at the man who only gestured encouragingly with his eyebrows. She tilted her head not unlike a raptor and looked at me with a cold and appraising eye. She then shook her head and frowned before saying, “You can’t see what we are?”

“A pair of absolute jackasses?” I sighed, no longer caring about their patronage.

This brought a laugh from the man but only a confused pout from the woman. “How can you be gifted then? Try looking really hard at me. Look at my lips, my skin. Let your eyes drink in my breasts, my curves. What do you feel?”

Embarrassed, I thought as I caught myself looking exactly where I was told. I shook my head a little too guiltily.

“She likes it~” the man teased while he scratched the stubble on his square chin. “Liona, why don’t you give her a minute?”

“Aw, but I like teasing her. Maybe we can trick her or something? She doesn’t seem very bright.” the blonde, Liona, said while I bristled at her comments.

“Liona.” the man warned testily.

“But Master, I want a new toy.” she pouted, “She’s exactly my type, you know that.”

“Liona!” he suddenly snapped, his brows furrowed in irritation. “Restrained.”

Suddenly the blonde’s hands snapped behind her back and her heels clicked together as if they’d been pulled by strong hands. Her mouth fell shut just as suddenly and she moaned in indignation but seemed unable to fight whatever was holding her.

“That’s better.” the man sighed, then stood up and looked at me with his hands leaning on the counter. “My name is Garret. Pleasure to meet another Thinker.”

By this time I was watching the blonde girl writhing with a look of horror and confusion on my face. Rather than concerned the blonde just looked pissed off, but that did nothing to make me feel better about her predicament. I turned and met his eyes, only now realizing he’d at some point doffed his sunglasses, and stared into their fathomless depths. Oddly, they looked familiar. Glancing into the polished metal on top of the french press I saw my own eyes reflected back and found the same colour and depth that I knew so well.

“Who are you?” I managed as I took another step back and hit the far counter.

“I just told you, I’m Garret.” he said with an interested smirk.

“Don’t fuck with me.” I warned him without any conviction, “I have pepper-spray back here!”

“Come now, Dove by Day, don’t be like that. Our kind are very rare. It would be a shame to squander this meeting.” he cooed and cajoled gently.

“Mmm!” the blonde nodded unhelpfully from her seat and almost fell over.

“How did you do that?” I demanded and pointed at the blonde. “What that some hypnosis shit? Are you going to hypnotize me?”

“What? Don’t be silly. Hypnosis isn’t real. That’d be absurd.” he smirked as he raised the glass of water to his lips and took an infuriatingly slow sip. With a start I shot my eyes down to the far end of the counter and saw the the dry napkin laying flat on the countertop where it had so rudely interrupted the glass I had poured and swiped. I must have paled visibly because he let out a laugh and put the glass down. “Are you uninitiated?”

“I’m losing my fucking mind, is what I am.” I said in near-hysterics as I fought to keep my breathing steady, “I think she was right. I think I’m broken.”

“Well, well, well.” he muttered to himself, then took out his wallet and left a few bills on the counter before moving to stand behind the still invisibly bound Liona and whispering something in her ear.

Instantly she regained control of her hands and feet, then turned and threw herself at him. She pressed her face so hard against his that I almost heard their teeth click on impact. She did her best to tie their tongues together in a passionate embrace while their hands roamed freely between chest and rump, then suddenly the man pushed her away and pulled out his sunglasses. The blonde scowled at him, panting heavily in a primal heat, before steeling her face and donning her own aviators. With one last smile the man tossed a small rectangle on the table and threw me a small salute as he ushered the woman out the door.

“When you want to talk just tell me.” he said cryptically, then his face calmed and he looked like a saint in an ancient tapestry as he added, “Until then, Dove by Day, I hope you enjoy the tip.”

And with that he walked out of the door and around the corner.

I waited for several minutes after he left before carefully grabbing the business card he’d thrown at the counter and brought it in front of me. It was blank except for his name, Garret, and the embossed enscription “Thinker and Doer” with no punctuation across the bottom. I flipped it over a couple of times, marvelling at it’s complete lack of usefulness as a business card, then bit into it and tore it in half out of utter frustration.

“What the hell was all that! Ugh!” I cried indignantly before moving back to my original position behind the bar and glowering at the inexplicably intact glass that had betrayed me. “What are you looking at... cup?”

Then I noticed the bills sitting beside it. The hundred and ninety six dollar and fifty one cent tip that he had left me. Glancing around to make sure no one was looking I stuffed the bills in my apron to sort later then looked down at the unpoured tea on the counter. With a shrug I poured myself a glass and breathed in the aroma.

“Helps you get through a stressful day.” I muttered as I took a sip and let out a derisive snort.