The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

For the People (Chapter 1)

SYNOPSIS: A dynamic young Congresswoman encounters an interviewer who changes her mind about her political beliefs and personal style.

DISCLAIMER: The following is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any actual person, event, or organization is entirely coincidental.

“Congresswoman Hobart’s office. How may I direct your call?”

Emily’s scheduling secretary clipped off the familiar greeting in a clipped, professional tone, a pleasant melody over the low buzz of activity in the rest of the office. Phones rang almost constantly, while staffers and strategists poured over polling data and legal language at tidy desks.

Emily Hobart strolled through the outer office with poise, her low, black heels clicking across the ubiquitous marble tile that all congressional offices shared. Her chief-of-staff, Moira, fell in next to her with practiced ease.

“You look satisfied,” Moira opened.

Emily was well-aware of the many curious ears around them. “The minority leader and I had a very productive meeting. We have our disagreements, but I’m confident that we’re making headway.”

She didn’t break stride as she entered her private office. Moira closed the doors behind her. Emily lowered herself primly into her leather chair and leaned back in a thoughtful pose. Moira just raised an eyebrow.

“O’Donahue is a twerp,” Emily declared.

Moira chuckled and slid into a chair across the desk from her boss. “What did he threaten you with this time?”

“Nothing, believe it or not. He’s starting to realize that he doesn’t have the power base he had in Paleolithic times. He just sort of ranted for a while. It kept getting longer each time I gave him a new detail of the bill.”

“He’s rattled,” Moira said. “I think we should schedule the next meeting right after we leak the new poll results on Monday.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Emily answered. “But make sure Vincetti and Johnson are there, too. It’ll hit harder if they all three see how screwed they are at once.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Emily turned her gaze up, staring into the distance as wheels turned in her head.

She had come into the United States House of Representatives full of fire, ready to get her hands dirty with all the reform issues that she had promised her constituents. People had told her to tamp down on her expectations, to take things slow, learn how the game is played. After all, at 26 she was not only the youngest Representative in history, but had barely squeaked over the limit for someone to be legally elected. She had no political experience, relatively few personal assets, and her home in Oregon was about as far from Washington beltway contact as you could get. Not to mention that she could hardly be expected to be taken seriously, given the way that she looked.

Nevertheless, in her six months in office she had taken the House by storm. She had been elected as the representative of Oregon’s 2nd Congressional District with a ludicrous 83% majority, and was the first Democrat elected from that district in almost 40 years. What she lacked in political experience she made up for in social capital; as the past year’s Miss Universe she had had access to VIPs across the nation, and she had leveraged that access into an impressive network of donors and supporters. Her youth, vitality, and passion had electrified the country. Other Democratic party leaders had seen the writing on the wall and taken up her call for sweeping government reform, and the press had bestowed her with the affectionate nickname “Miss Congress.” Others might have seen it as a light mockery, but Emily embraced the merging of her pageant past with her political future.

Her political opponents, however, had not been so clear-headed. Despite sinking to a razor-thin one-seat minority, House Republicans had dug in their heels to try and stop her agenda at every turn. They were only gradually realizing that every day of fighting ground down their public support; Americans loved watching the brilliant young bombshell Congresswoman speak truth to entrenched power.

The fight had reached a fever pitch when Emily had introduced a new banking reform bill two weeks ago. It seemed that the idea of protecting normal Americans from financial exploitation by large corporations was sacrilege to her opponents.

“Nostalgia ain’t what it used to be,” Emily quipped to herself. Then, to Moira: “Set it up. And you sit down with Carroway sometime soon. He’s a little worried about some polling from his district and he might need some hand-holding. Don’t send Brian, go yourself. Show him we care.”

“Absolutely, Ma’am.”

Moira stood and showed herself out. At the same instant, as if programmed on a timer, Emily’s scheduling secretary, Jason, appeared in the doorway. “Congresswoman, the reporter from Orbit Media is here.”

“Orbit?”

“Yes, Ma’am. Part of your small-outlet outreach.”

Emily nodded. With so many news sources being snapped up by big conglomerates in the last few years, she felt it was important to support independent journalism. She had set up weekly exclusives with small news outlets as a way to give them a boost. Anything to help the little guy.

“Ok, send him in.”

Jason disappeared, and in his place entered a young man in a surprisingly well-tailored suit. His cornball smile as the door closed behind him would dwarf even a campaign spokesman’s.

“Congresswoman Hobart, it’s a pleasure.” He gave her hand a brief, courteous shake. “Devin Cavenshaw, Orbit Media.”

“It’s a pleasure, Devin. Please, have a seat.”

The two of them settled in across the expanse of Emily’s mahogany desk. Emily quickly sized Devin up. His fashion spoke of personal care, while his tone was purely professional. His eye was a little wandering, but she could forgive that; she had never met a man in her life who could resist giving her body a once-over with his gaze. Beauty pageants didn’t stop at the end of the stage.

Devin pulled his phone from his pocket and set it on the desk, pulling up the audio recorder app. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.” That was polite of him. He must have known from her past interviews that she allowed recorded audio, but he still went out of his way to ask. Unexpectedly classy, for a web outlet reporter.

Devin hit record, then fiddled with the phone for another few seconds. Briefly Emily heard a high-pitched hum coming from the device, but after a moment it faded into nothing, just beyond the edge of her hearing. Devin placed small earbuds in his ears, presumably so he could hear the audio of the interview in real time to make sure it sounded all right.

“All ready?”

Emily’s eye twitched slightly at the lingering hum from the phone, but she nodded. “Fire away.”

Devin flipped open a small notebook and glanced at it. “Congresswoman Hobart, regarding the Corporate Liability and Responsibility Reform Act, which you introduced to the House thirteen days ago: of all the domestic issues facing Americans today, why did you choose this to define your first term in office?”

Unseen by any cameras, Emily allowed herself a broad smile. Not only had the young interviewer just suggested that of course she would be re-elected, but he had opened with a softball question that she could answer in her sleep while never straying an inch from her preferred message.

“American corporate culture has for too long looked upon their customers as exploitable assets rather than meaningful actors in their own right. We spend so much time and energy talking about the importance of corporate profits and the value of a free market that we lose sight of one simple fact: a market is not free if one side is allowed to obfuscate or even outright lie to the other, while at the same time dodging responsibility for risky behaviors in the pursuit of short-term profit.

“The CLRRA is designed to level the playing field. To give consumers, home-owners, and pensioners the right to see behind the curtain of corporate legal shields and hold them accountable to the common sense spirit of their agreements. A market is a place where deals are made, and they American people need this bill to help make sure those deals are fair.”

Devin took the crisp answer in stride. “What would you say to your detractors who say that your own personal corporate involvement gives your stance a shine of hypocrisy?”

Emily raised an eyebrow. That kind of poetry was out of place in a simple interview question. “Argent Capital isn’t my company, it’s my grandfather’s. I’ve always been up-front about my involvement with the company—which is practically zero—and the company itself has gone far above and beyond their legal obligation to make their policies and dealings transparent to the public. So to answer those detractors, I would say that my family’s company is a perfect example of corporate responsibility and of what the corporate landscape will look like once my bill is passed.”

Devin looked impressed by the answer. Emily knew the look well; even after all her success in the political world, many people weren’t prepared for her to be more than long legs, big breasts, and blonde hair. Their runway eye-candy wasn’t supposed to have a mind of her own, and the first time they saw her in action in person it could be jarring.

“But surely you must want what’s best for your family’s company?” he pushed the issue.

Emily’s sense of political danger pricked up. The question was a goad into a trap. But before she could dismiss him and pivot to her message, the red flag faded away strangely. “Of course I want the best for Argent Capital,” she answered.

“But your bill appears to impose significant operating restrictions on American companies like Argent. Restrictions that would hurt those companies, and hurt Argent. So since you want the best for Argent Capital, you must not support the business restrictions in this bill.”

Emily tried to smile away the ridiculous assertion the interviewer had just made, but it came out shaky. He was making a labyrinthine kind of sense. It made her uncomfortable. “I don’t want to hurt anyone,” she said cautiously. That much at least seemed safe.

“Anyone would include corporations.”

“Yes.” That one word came out easily.

“So you don’t want to hurt corporations.”

“Of course I don’t want to hurt corporations,” she answered. Her eyes flicked to the phone on the desk, recording the conversation.

“It sounds like you might want to make some changes to the bill, then.”

Emily had been studying Congressional procedure for years, ever since she decided to major in Political Science at Berkeley. She’d known early on that politics was her eventual career path. “I could make changes to the bill if I wanted,” she confirmed. “We’re still in the process of finalizing language and attached amendments.”

“Oh, that makes sense.” Devin sounded genuinely relieved, not condescending at all. “So you will be adding amendments to the bill to protect American companies from government overreach.”

Emily hesitated. That was the opposite of what she wanted to do. She was here to bring to heel the runaway greed and unfair policies of giant corporations. Not to protect them.

The thought fled as Devin shifted the level of his head to bring his eyes in line with hers. “Congresswoman. You’ll be adding amendments to the bill that will benefit American companies.”

Briefly, Emily was aware of that subtle hum at the edge of her hearing. “Yes,” she said finally. “I want to make sure that American companies thrive.”

“Good. That’s right.” The interviewers voice was soothing. Emily was glad she’d said the right thing. “You want to help strengthen corporate power.”

“I want to help strengthen corporate power.” His nod confirmed that she’d done well again.

“How will you do that? There are so many ways. You could add an amendment to make it impossible for citizens to sue companies for wrongdoing. You could do away with false advertising protections. You could eliminate the minimum wage. You could allow companies to sue citizens for defamation if they speak out against a product. Take away protections for consumers. All sorts of things.” Devin’s eyes didn’t smile like his mouth did. “You should do all those things.”

Emily nodded. Her body was heavy in the padded leather of her chair. “I’m definitely in favor of all those things. I want to take away consumer protections and give companies more power.”

“Good, Congresswoman. I’m very glad to hear it. And I’m glad that you enjoyed this interview so much. How about you put me on your schedule again, the same time next week? We have so much to talk about.”

“Yes,” Emily said with enthusiasm. She really did like this man. He was an excellent journalist, helping guide her through some rocky policy questions. “We’ll put another interview on the schedule. Thank you for coming in.”

Devin made no move to leave. “A word to the wise, though. You’re not dressed quite appropriately for an interview. Or for any of your job.”

Emily glanced down at herself. Her black skirt-suit and cream-colored blouse were as professional as they come. All the women in Washington politics dressed similarly, even if none of them could pull off the look like Emily could.

Devin read the confusion on her face. “You’re dressing like all the other women. All the other politicians. But you’re not like them. You’re better than that.” That sounded nice. Emily liked being better. “So you should dress better,” Devin continued. “Don’t blend in. Dress to be noticed. Show them what makes you special.”

“What makes me special can’t be seen.” Emily thought her voice might be slightly slurred, but she couldn’t tell. A little moisture of saliva had started to drip from the corner of her mouth. “I’m smart. I’m driven. I understand people.”

Devin actually laughed, shaking his head ruefully. “Oh, no, Congresswoman. That’s not it at all. What makes you special can definitely be seen.”

“It can?”

“You’re a beauty queen, remember? That’s how you built up all your contacts and support. People like how you look, that’s all.”

That made Emily sad. “Just my looks?”

“Yes. Just how you look. You got famous because of your body and your pretty face. You got famous in evening gowns and swimsuits.” Devin’s smile broadened. “Especially swimsuits. The only way you can get things done is using your looks.”

Emily looked down at herself again, a tear in her eye. Her expensive, tailored suit looked so drab. So out of place, like a kitten wearing a firefighter’s uniform for Halloween. She distantly wondered if people laughed at her for thinking that she looked respectable in something like this.

“You should dress with more flash. More pizazz,” Devin continued. “You should dress to get people to look at you, in all the ways they want to look at a pretty girl. Because that’s what you are.”

“I’m a pretty girl.”

“You’re a pretty, sexy girl.”

“I’m pretty and sexy. I should dress pretty and sexy.”

“I’m glad we agree,” Devin said finally, standing up. Emily stared at him for a second before she, too, stood. She reached out to shake his offered hand.

Instead of shaking, though, Devin gently pulled her forward. Her body strangely gelatinous, Emily bent forward over the desk. Devin leaned in, too, and before Emily could react, he had pressed his lips to hers.

The kiss lingered. Devin’s tongue pressed against Emily’s lips with gentle but firm insistence. Her eyes widened in surprise, but she didn’t pull back from it. She opened her mouth, taking the kiss in deeper, letting the interviewer enjoy himself. In truth, she enjoyed it a little herself.

He finally broke off the kiss and pulled back. “Lovely. Thank you for your time, Congresswoman Hobart. I’ll look forward to seeing you again in a few days.”

With that he turned the recorder off and collected his phone. Another button press and Emily felt that background hum, almost imperceptible, fade away into nothingness, like a pressure being removed from her skull. She blinked several times.

“Likewise, Devin. Jason will make your appointment.”

Devin turned and strode out of the office, nodding to her staffers outside the door on his way out. Jason immediately appeared, ready to prep her for her next meeting, but she held up a finger to stall him.

She took a moment of quiet to think. She felt strange, like she had just woken up with the memory of a happy dream, but with one crucial part of the narrative missing. The interview had gone well and Devin was a true professional. But still, something disturbed her about him...

Whatever it was, Emily couldn’t bring it to mind. She shook the feeling off and addressed Jason. “Jason, clear another fifteen minutes out a week from today. I’m going to do a follow-up with Orbit.”

Jason looked surprised and impressed, but he knew better than to ask about issues that were above his pay grade. “Of course, Ma’am. Are you ready for your call with the SEC?”

“Yes.” Emily’s voice held a tone of relief.

She sat back down, adjusting her stylish black suit coat with passive interest. After months of campaigning and holding office, she was starting to get bored with the typical fashion of the Washington elite. She’d have to mix it up a little in the future.

Her desk phone buzzed and she hit the speaker button. “Ma’am, you’re on with the Chairman of the SEC.”

Emily shook off the last vestiges of grogginess that she was feeling and squared her shoulders in a power stance. No one to see, but it still felt good to stand assertively. “Chairman Hong, nice to speak with you.”

The conversation began politely and ran its course. As did the rest of the day. And the night. And America’s youngest, most promising new Congresswoman never stopped thinking, deep in the back of her head, where new things that she had learned were taking hold.

To be continued….