The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I thought about Cristina all the rest of that day. I must have eaten dinner and things—maybe even done some homework. But I don’t remember any of that. I thought, “Oh no, oh no, oh no! A Catholic girl’s in love with me, and if I don’t marry her, her brother will kill me, and I will die! Die! Die!”

I thought, “If I don’t marry Cristina, she might even kill herself!”

I thought, “Latoshi will never be my friend again.”

Strangely, it was the last of these which made me really sad.

All night, I kept having dreams of the Devil with his big red trident, laughing at me, and saying things like, “You’re mine, now boy! It’s Hell for you! Even before you die! Hahahahahaha!” Then I’d wake up in a sweat, my heart beating like it was going to break in two. Seriously. You don’t know how hard a heart can beat. In the morning, I dragged myself out of bed, feeling less rested than if I’d been up all night.

I obsessed about it all weekend. But I knew what I had to do. Obviously.

First period Senior History Seminar—where it had all started—I saw Mike again. He was sitting in the back, glowering, arms crossed, shoulders up around his ears. I sat down by him. He didn’t look at me.

“Hi Mike.” He didn’t say anything. This was already not going well. “What? What did I do? Talk to me, Mike.”

He looked at me, then looked away. Ugh. I wanted to shake him.

“Mike, I need to talk to you about Cristina.”

He finally smiled. “Yeah, I heard. She’s your girlfriend now, Solomon. Get used to it.”

I flapped my hands. “I don’t want her! She wants to marry me! You’ve got to get her off me!”

He looked down his nose at me. “Why should I?”

I grimaced ingratiatingly. “Because we’re friends?”

“Not any more. You blew it.” He sat back in his chair.

“Wait! What did I do?”

He looked at me like I was such an idiot. “You used it on me. Asshole. It’s mine.”

“I said I was sorry!”

He smiled that creepy smile again. “And you think that’s good enough?”

“Come on, Mike! What do I have to do to make it up to you?”

“And get me to fix Cristina?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

He rubbed his chin. “Well...OK. Just use it on me so I can use it on you again. And Latoshi.”

I frowned. “I can’t. I think. Can I?”

“Yeah you can.” He was looking at me kind of intensely. “You did before. Remember? Do we have a deal? You can’t use it on anyone else. You can’t say anything else, except I can use it on you and Latoshi. Got it?”

His face looked kind of...evil again. But what choice did I have? I couldn’t be responsible for what would happen to Cristina if I didn’t do this. “Deal.”

He got it out, and started to give it to me, then pulled back. “Can I trust you?”

I met his eyes. “Mike, a deal’s a deal.”

He studied me, then gave me the thing. “Yeah,” he said. “A deal’s a deal.” I pointed it at him, and pressed the button. As I did, I had a kind of scary feeling—like I was making a mistake. But it was too late. “Mike, you can use this on me and...and...You can use this on me and....” I took my hand off the button. “I can’t do anything about Latoshi. I think she used it on me.”

He grabbed it back. “Whatever. Go get Cristina.”

I found her with her friends, gabbing away in Spanish. I listened for a second, but I didn’t hear my name, which I figured was a good sign; but she sounded so happy, trilling like a songbird in springtime—with all the rolling Rs and things—and that didn’t sound good. She sounded like a girl in love, in other words.

Better put a stop to it as soon as possible. “Hey, Cristina!” I called. She looked over, and her face just lit up. She said something—I didn’t want to know what it was—to her friends, and came over to me.

She tried to kiss me but I pulled away. It didn’t phase her. “What chew want, lover?”

I didn’t want to lie to her. “Can you come with me for a second?”

“Sure.”

So we started across the cafeteria towards Mike. When we got close, she wanted to pull away, but I held on to her arm. “We’ll just be a second, OK Cris?”

Mike pointed his Machine at her. “Forget what happened between you and Solomon,” he said. “And always wear loose button shirts with no bra, starting now, and remember to lean forward whenever you see me.”

Cristina stood looking dazed for a minute. She looked at me, and her face lost its light. It was kind of sad, actually, even though I wanted it to happen. Then she reached behind herself and undid the bra under her shirt, pulled her arms through, lifted her boobs over it, and pulled it out one sleeve of her sweater. She handed it to Mike, who handed it to Betty Joe Simons. “Make a sculpture out of this,” he said. “With plaster and stuff.” She walked off with it.

Mike looked at me. “You happy now?” I nodded. “Good,” he said. He flapped his hand at Cristina, like she was a bug, and she left.

He was still looking at me. I can’t remember what he said, but after a while he let me go.

I was sure glad that was over.