The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

By the time I got home, my head was in a daze. I fell into bed with my clothes on, and conked out.

Probably four or five hours later, I woke up, feeling strangely refreshed after so little sleep. I went over to the fridge, picked out a little food, and sat down at the kitchen table. I noticed that the message lamp on my answering machine was blinking.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Grayson.” It was Mr. Jones’ voice. “Ms. Abernathy reports that last night was a little long. When you get this message, come on over to the office.”

If I had a life, I would have resented his request. But I didn’t, so I headed off to get changed.

I got into the shower, and looked down at myself. I had noticed this before, in a subtle way, but now, as I looked down at myself, I could see that since working at HEIC, I had become quite a specimen. Last night’s workout, combined with all the exercise over the months had built my body into quite a machine. I lathered up, feeling my own muscles and taught skin, luxuriating in what I had become, feeling the physicality of it all, and reveling in it. I was not tired at all, even from the night before, and as I rinsed off, I could feel myself, refreshed, as though I was completely rested. As though I had just awakened from a dream.

I got dressed, into the conservative clothes, and headed out into the bright day, over to the HEIC offices.

Mr. Jones met me in the lobby as I stepped off the elevator.

“Mr. Grayson,” he said with a smile. “Interesting night last night, no?”

I wondered how much he knew.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Grayson,” he said, as he subtly ushered me back towards his office, “we didn’t videotape it. And Ms. Abernathy is renowned for her discretion. But we do keep a record of anyone who goes to the club.”

“It was, well, unexpectedly entertaining,” I said, trying to keep the understatement.

“I imagine so,” he said, opening the door to his office.

I had never been inside Mr. Jones’ office before. As we walked in, I noticed that it was rather Spartan, with no papers, but only two computer monitors and a keyboard behind a simple, elegant wooden desk. Behind me, I noticed, as we walked in, was a brown leather couch with an impressionist painting. Behind the desk was another similar painting. I took a chance and asked if they were, as they appeared, Roy Liechtenstein.

“Indeed, Mr. Grayson. You have a very good eye for art as well. Most people just let them go, thinking they are lithographs. But, well, every person has their favorites.”

He sat down at his desk. I sat in the chair in front of him.

“Mr. Grayson, everything you have done so far for HEIC, you have done very well. Your reports are excellent, and your style is superb. Plus, you have done a fine job delivering the Packages. You may not know this, but that is where most people fail.”

“I’m sorry, what do you mean by fail?”

“Well, the biggest reason people don’t make it around here is because their curiosity gets the better of them, and they open the package. You see, if you don’t open it the right way, it gets spoiled, and it cannot be used. You never even tried to open it.”

The thought had never really crossed my mind, and I told him so.

“Good. You know, good things come to those who wait.”

I waited.

“Anyway, Mr. Grayson, you’ve been here enough time that we think we are ready to make a commitment to you. But it’s a serious one. We want to bring you on board as a professional. Like Ms. Abernathy. You will be an agent for HEIC.”

His words hung in the air. I didn’t know what to say.

“Now before you give me any answers, I want you to think about it. This job is not to be taken lightly. It’s a career. Once you get clearance around here, it is, well, very hard to get out of the Company. And even if you do, you will see that you cannot really leave the company behind. It’s a way of life.”

Again, quiet. Then I answered him.

“Mr. Jones, I accept. I have been thinking about it, and I thought that it would take a pretty strong commitment. I’m ready to make the commitment.”

“Grand. But you also have to know that any connections you have to family or friends are going to greatly suffer. I know that you don’t have many, or any, as far as I know, but just so you know, they will be pushed back even further.”

“I know that.”

“Do you want time to think about this some more?”

“No. Where do I sign up?”

“No signing up. Your handshake is good enough for us. But I have to tell you what it means. If you accept, you will be put into a training program for a few weeks to a few months. When you get out of it, you will be ready to be an agent for the company, and will be trained to do what we tell you to do. Although you will have to take initiative in almost every assignment, you will be by no means independent. First, you will be responsible to HEIC, and who we represent. Second, you will have a partner.”

“Ms. Abernathy?”

“Yes. Ms. Abernathy. You and she will be closer than you can imagine. Like peas in a pod. And she has picked you, which is really why you are getting the offer in the first place. Although, I have to tell you, we probably would have picked you anyway.”

“Thanks.”

“Also, Mr. Grayson, in case you haven’t figured it out yet, you will get the Package. I can’t tell you about it now, but I will soon. But before you get it, you have to be physically prepared. It will not change you for life, but it will require some surgery. Is that ok?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s everything I can tell you Mr. Grayson. Based on that, are you ready to join up?”

“Yes, Mr. Jones.”

“Ok. Then let’s shake on it.” He stood, and rounded his desk, coming over to shake hands.

“Ahh, the HEIC shake. Nothing better,” he said.

I took his firm grasp. Although I didn’t know what I was getting into, I couldn’t wait to start.

“Let’s go down to the 20th floor,” he said. “we can start the preparation for the package today.”

We took the elevator down to 20, and got off. After going through a security door, and noticing the cameras that let us through, we came to what looked like a surgical suite. Mr. Jones told me to strip, and lie on the table. He would be back in a moment. He also gave me a pill to take. A sedative.

“We don’t have an anesthesiologist, so we’ve made up this little ditty,” he said. “It takes hold in about a half hour, and should do the trick.”

I took it.

He left, then returned with two other men dressed in surgical scrubs, one of them, the Colonel from Philadelphia.

“Hello, Mr. Grayson,” he said. “I’m glad you are joining up again. Have any questions?”

I asked what they were going to do.

“It’s absolutely simple. You see, the human body is amazingly complex, but parts of it are truly straightforward. Through years of tinkering and some unexpected luck, we’ve been able to find a way to make it work better than we had ever expected, in ways that, well, you have seen.”

“How?”

“Here’s what is going to happen. We take a small amount of artificial spinal tissue and attach it to your own spine, inside your spinal column. It’s amazing that the two most important organs in your body, your brain and your spine, simply have no ability to reject foreign tissue if they become attached to it. Anyway, we are able to attach the artificial spinal issue, and hook it up to your brain. We also hook it up to a receptor attached to your esophagus. That’s it. No problems getting though airports.

The new tissue allows you to control your body functions better than ever before. It lets you regulate things consciously that you now can do only unconsciously, with a precision and power not now possible.

It also magnifies your thought process, makes your memory razor sharp, and exponentially increases your brain power, and, if necessary, your physical power.

Plus, we can give you memories of things. Not events or anything, but information, like speeches or equations.”

I thought about it. I had lots of questions.

“What is the Package for?”

“It’s the check on the system. The Package activates the new tissue. It’s like a battery pack. It only lasts a set amount of time, and when its gone, the tissue has no effect on you. You are a normal person again. No side effects, no nothing.”

“How did you discover this?”

“Well, our first experiment was with my wife, the woman you met down in Philadelphia. She was paralyzed back in the early 1960s, by a bullet to the spine. She agreed to massive experimental surgery to replace portions of her spine. By today’s standards, it was like operating with a sledgehammer and hedge clippers. But we lucked out, and were able to graft a new spinal column onto the base of her old one, hooked up to a battery pack. When we turned it on, she not only could walk, but could do differential equations without a pen, and remember what dress she wore to school on any given day 30 years earlier.”

“Do you have it?”

“No, and believe it or not, neither does Mr. Jones. But Ms. Abernathy does. And a growing number of people.”

“Why not?”

“We’re the normative samples. You’ll find out more about this later.”

I was beginning to drift off. A fourth person entered the room.

“Mr. Grayson, I know this is a big question for you, and may seem like a bigger risk than you had planned. But rest assured, we have never faltered in this operation. It takes twenty minutes, and afterwards, you won’t feel a thing different. It’s like putting a straw in a soda can.”

“I believe you.”

I saw a cart being wheeled into the room. On top of it was a long glass tube, with a long white string on the inside. The Colonel held it up to me. My eyes were heavy.

“This is it, Mr. Grayson. This is what makes it all possible. Now roll over on your back. You won’t feel a thing.

I didn’t. In about a minute I passed out, face down.

When I woke, I was dressed again, but in a different place. More like a bedroom. Mr. Jones was sitting in a chair off to the side. He looked up from the book he was reading as I stirred.

“Welcome to the other side, Mr. Grayson,” he said.

I tired to move, and almost to my surprise, did so, with no problem. My trepidation seemed to be the only thing holding me back.

“You’ll have no limitation of motion, or anything like it, Mr Grayson. The surgery went perfectly. There’s a band-aid on the back of the center of your shoulder blades. That’s it. You’re done, and ready to go.”

“Who dressed me? Where are we?”

“Well, you dressed yourself, and we’re in Connecticut, at a retreat house we keep out here for the training sessions. The pill kept you in a semi-conscious state for a few hours, but don’t worry, we didn’t make you act like a chicken or anything.” He chuckled.

“What time is it.”

“It’s dinner time, about 7:30 in the evening. You’ve been out for about five hours.”

It seemed a lot later. But I looked at my watch, and it confirmed this.

“I don’t feel any different.”

“That’s exactly as it should be. Now, want some dinner?”

I got up out of the bed, and followed Mr. Jones out the door. We were in some old, huge mansion, with 14 foot ceilings, and wooden paneling and wall coverings from some medieval palace. Par for the course, I thought. We walked down the hallway quietly, and went down a grand staircase. I followed him back to the kitchen, which of course, was made out like a restaurant’s with huge freezers, refrigerators and stoves.

Inside the kitchen was a woman dressed in smart, but informal business clothes, who had put dinner on the small eating table for us. She was about five foot six, with blonde hair, well filled out. She was in excellent physical shape, and you could see her bright eyes taking in everything.

“Thanks, Susan. You can go now.”

She left with a straight face, looking at me. Perhaps a little severe.

After she left, Mr. Jones turned to me.

“That’s Susan Miller, one of our most consistent employees. She was brought to us down in Washington, the same way Ms. Abernathy was introduced. Very intelligent, but not a courier.”

“Does she have the Package?”

“No, she just works for us. I think she’s been on Cloud Nine since she got here.”

“She didn’t seem very enthusiastic about me.”

“Well, Mr. Grayson, she is, well attached. To a woman. She and another of our employees here, Jackie, are a pair. Jackie actually brought Susan in. They pretty much keep to themselves.”

“They don’t work at the Club back in Manhattan?”

“Not everyone works there, Mr. Grayson,” Mr Jones laughed. Susan and Jackie are our analysts. They also are the caretakers out here when not much is going on. Susan is an excellent cook. You’ll see her and Jackie more when you finish your training.”

He looked a little wistful, and changed topics.

“Mr. Grayson, you are going to be here for at least a couple weeks. They’re probably not going to be easy weeks. This is our testing ground and training facility. It may look nice now, but you may not like it later.” He dug into his chicken with red sauce. I did too, as I was hungry.

“Over the time you are here, you’re going to get your first Package, and then you are going to have to learn to deal with it. Let me tell you that it is not easy, and especially so for you. Most of our customers get very limited exposure. In fact about 90 percent of them use the package only for memory purposes. That explains everyone you delivered to. They all just need to remember lots of different things for different reasons, or have to do complex calculations. Their packages are specifically tailored to that. Yours is the all-in-one, like Ms. Abernathy. It’s going to hit you like a tidal wave. But you’ll be able to handle it. It may take some time though. I can’t tell you what it’s like because I don’t have one, but it has been described to me as the difference between a whisper and the roar of a jet engine. Everything takes off, and you can’t control everything.

“But if you put up with the struggle you can do it. If you can’t eventually it will wear off, and you will go back to normal, and never get the package again. A number of our employees are like that. For some reason it was too much for them. I think you can do it though. You have the control. ”

We finished eating and talked some more, eventually ending up in the huge library with some cognac. We stayed up until about midnight, as he explained what HEIC was to me. I was in awe. And he was in control of it, with a handful of other people. It was amazing. It all seemed so simple, and it was based on the Package.

He left to go home, and I retired to my room. As I drifted off to sleep, I thought of Ms. Abernathy, the night before with numbers 52 and 28, and what the future held. And I thought of the next day, when I would get the Package.

The following morning, I woke with anticipation. At 7:30, as planned, I was dressed and ready to go. Mr. Jones met me, and after breakfast we walked out to one of the barn-like buildings on the estate. The whole compound was pretty amazing. He explained that it was one of the last large estates in Connecticut that had not become subdivisions. They had 250 acres, less than an hour and a half from New York.

We went into the barn, and walked to the back, where Mr. Jones opened one of the hay loft doors, and, of course, revealed a shiny black wall, which began to move. It was an elevator shaft. We got into the car, and went down into the lab.

“You could do some pretty private things down here,” I said.

“Don’t worry Mr. Grayson,” he replied. “Everything down here will be very personal, and very private. But we’ll take care of you.”

The door opened and we stepped out into an obviously windowless lobby area, with probably six doors leading off to places unknown. There was nobody home.

“This is where you’ll stay, at least for a while, Mr. Grayson. It’s for security purposes, at least while the first package wears off. After that, we can see how it goes. Everything is here. A gym, a library, a computer system, bedroom, even a pool. There are also numerous restraints in every room if necessary, and, well lots of surprises for when the time comes.”

He led me over to the only door-less wall, which had a mirror.

“This is the direct observation lounge. We will keep a constant eye on you. But for now, you have to be isolated. You can talk with people all you like, but they can’t have physical contact with you for a while after you get it.”

From my reaction to number 28, I knew why.

He waived his hand, the and the mirror became clear glass. He had signaled to somebody, but I could not see who.

“Are you ready to lose it, Mr. Grayson?”

I said I was.

Mr. Jones held out his hand. “Here’s the secret to the HEIC shake, Mr. Grayson. The watch you have been wearing trips a small sensor in the right thumb of the customer. It prepares the his or her body to take the package.” We shook. I didn’t feel anything.

“Now, Mr. Grayson, here it comes. The Package.”

He reached over to the counter, and picked up a manila envelope that was sitting on it. This was what I had been delivering. He opened it, and took out a small jewelry-box.

“If you open this box the wrong way, all you see is a Bulova watch,” he said. “But if you open it this way,” he said, pushing the bottom in, and snapping it back, then turning it upside down and rotating the side off, “you get the Package.”

The Package was about the size of a dime, but oval in shape, like a vitamin.

“Now, Mr. Grayson, you have fifteen minutes from the time you open the box to the time you take the package. Just swallow it. You may feel it get stuck in your throat. It is supposed to. It will dissolve in a matter of minutes. Then, you’ll begin to feel it take effect.”

I took it from him.

“It’s time for me to leave now. Good luck.” He put his hand on the elevator door, and it opened. “I’ll talk to you today at some point. I’ll monitor your progress. Just remember. If you can stick it out, it gets lots better.”

The door closed.

I popped the Package into my mouth and swallowed. I felt it get stuck in my throat.