The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The sun was too bright.

Those were my thoughts as I stared out the window of my office. I was on the phone with Peter Mazza, my contact in NYPD. Old friend of mine, good contact, too.

“Okay, Lou, I got the information on that homeless shelter you wanted,” Peter told me.

“Yeah, I know who owns it,” I replied. “Kendra Forge. You know who that is?”

“Know who she is? Don’t you read the magazines?” Peter said, sounding surprised.

“Not unless her picture was in the post office,” I said, adjusting my blinds.

“Kendra Forge is, like, a multi-billionaire,” Peter replied. “She owns ModernMedia... that big software company? She’s one of the richest woman in the country.”

“Hey, if she’s not selling cameras, I couldn’t give a shit.”

“Actually, a lot of her technology is going into the new fangled digital cameras now,” Peter replied. “And Kendra Forge gives a hell of a lot to charity.”

“Charity, my ass,” I said. “Something fucked up is happening in that homeless shelter. What do you got on it?”

“Not much that can help you, I’m afraid,” Peter replied. “Kendra Forge owns it, and she’s actually pouring lots of money into the shelter, and various others in the city.”

“And what about that name I gave you? Velma? Did you get anything on that?”

“I did, actually,” Peter said. “Her name is Velma Maxwell, and she works at ModernMedia. Her husband’s name is Isaac Hothe.”

“Isaac, huh?” Not a very slick name for Slick.

“Yeah, what’s more, Isaac used to work at Novell, but he was fired a few weeks ago. As I understand, Mrs. Maxwell is the only one bringing in money to that house.”

“Hmmmm,” I said. Could be the money flow stops coming... if she gets up and leaves this guy.

“Wish I could tell you more,” Peter said. “Personally, I think maybe you’re reading a little too much into the whole thing...”

Excuse me? “Look, something is going on in there, Peter, and I’m going to find out what it is.”

“Okay, but if you get in trouble, it’s your ass.”

“I know, I know. I owe you too many favors already. Don’t worry about it. I won’t get caught. Look, I got to go.”

“’Kay, Lou. Talk to you later.”

“Gotcha. Over and out,” I said, and hung up the phone. I opened my drawer, took out a cigarette, and lit up. I had spent months quitting—but there’s nothing like a lesbian cult conspiracy to get you back going again.

Then I got my keys.

It was time to go shopping.

Did I mention that shopping for clothes is my favorite activity in the whole wide world? No? Probably because it’s not. I really don’t like to be reminded of how imperfect my body is supposed to be and how wide my hips are.

I tried to avoid looking at the picture-perfect salesladies and kept to myself. Nevertheless, one of them managed to approach me.

“May I help you?” she asked in her cute little sneer.

“Uhh,” I said, quickly looking at her nametag to be polite. “No, Helen, I think I’m doing fine so far, but...”

“That dress you’re looking at is very nice,” Helen said, motioning to a hot red number that I really wasn’t looking at. “I think it’d look good on you.”

“Well, actually, Helen,” I said, glancing this way and that as if I was doing something secret. “Do you have this in... flannel?”

“Excuse me?” Helen said, still smiling.

“Never mind,” I said, shaking my head and turning away to search through the store. I liked confusing salespeople. It made them wary of asking me if I needed help.

I picked up some cheap looking clothes. I could have just as easily gone to Goodwill and got some rags, but I didn’t really trust in getting secondhand stuff—who knows where it might have been...

I found enough cheap clothes to get me through the week I was planning to spend inside the shelter. Next stop was the salon, where I was going to get one hell of a makeover.

Back at my apartment, I looked at my self in the mirror. I had dirtied up my clothes and myself just enough so I could pass for not having bathed in days. I didn’t even recognize myself. I was always really good at disguises.

I caught a glimpse of my own eyes.

Do you remember the sparkle of Lady Kendra’s eyes?

I shuddered.

Remember how your own eyes yearn for the glow.

“Stop it,” I told myself. “Focus!”

I live to love. I love to live. I live to love...

I closed my eyes. Focus, Lou. You’re going to stake those bastards out. You’re going to find out what’s going on here, and you’re going to report their asses to...

I live to love.

...To whoever will listen.

I sighed and headed out. This was something I had to do... more important than some bullshit chant.

I walked to the shelter this time. Not because I was interested in saving the planet, but so that when I got there, I’d probably look tired and sick enough to pass for a transient.

The same security guard from there was before. When he saw me, it looked like he didn’t recognize me. “Hey there,” he called to me. “Are you okay?”

I coughed and said “Yeah. I’m okay.”

“You don’t look so good, miss,” the guard replied. “Perhaps you’d like to come in here and freshen up. This is a homeless shelter, a very nice one too.”

“Bless you sir,” I said, wondering how well rehearsed this guy was. And with that, I made my way inside. The guard was even nice enough to hold the door open for me.

Asshole.

There was a small crowd inside. Some looked the part of homeless, others looked more professional. I took a seat, and someone was quick to place some food in front of me. She then stood, smiling at me. I looked at the food oddly.

This could be drugged.

“I... I’m not really that hungry right now,” I said, not really looking at the woman.

“That’s okay,” she said, pushing the food aside. “You can eat whenever you feel like it.” She then sat down beside me. “My name is Betty Porter. What’s yours?”

I didn’t answer. I figured I wasn’t compromising my mission by being an asshole, so she could just fuck off.

Betty chuckled. “I understand if you don’t want to talk. It’s okay. Just be sure not to miss Kendra—she’s speaking today. You’ll want to see that.”

I gave her my most forlorn look. She seemed to accept that and move on. But something told me that she made a mental note of me—that I was one she should keep her eye on, and not because of suspicion. Great—she was attracted to an illusion. Wait till she finds that out.

‘You’re here on a stakeout,’ I told myself again. ‘Focus.’

I drummed my fingers on the table and observed, looking for people I knew. Velma was here, with a pretty little number I assumed was Cindy, glancing at each other. I shuddered and tried to repress the memory.

Wait a second... didn’t Betty say that Kendra was speaking today? This might be a chance to find out more clues on what was going on. I looked around for Betty and approached her again.

“Hello again,” Betty said, smiling.

“I’m sorry,” I said, sounding small and apologetic. “Did you say Kendra was speaking?”

“Yes, she is,” Betty said. “Later this evening, when she comes by, she’ll be speaking in that auditorium over there.” She pointed to a large door off to my left.

“I want to see that. I’ve heard a lot of things about her,” I said. I was being truthful, too. Who said my line of work was amoral?

The auditorium resembled an elementary school cafeteria, with lunchroom tables set up in rows and columns across the room. While it wasn’t a packed house, the tables were full enough to impress anyone watching—this was a popular place.

All of a sudden everyone got very quiet, and I looked towards the podium. Sure enough, Kendra Forge was there. Along with Velma, and a few other women I didn’t recognize.

A few microphone taps, and then Ms. Forge spoke. Her voice was, at once, firm and gentle, kind and authoritative.

“I am Kendra Forge, but you can call me Kendra,” she said, lightly pressing her arms on the podium. “I’d like you all to be my friends. I think of myself as your friend.

“Some would call this place a homeless shelter, a place to hide ‘you people’ away, and would consider my investment into them some way to make amends with myself, to appease my conscience for all the ‘oppression’ that I put people through in order to make all of my money... Ladies and gentlemen, that is bullshit.”

My eyes widened. Conspirator or not, this woman had some panache.

“I am, first and foremost, a businesswoman and investor, and this ‘shelter’ is an investment on my part. I am investing in you, the forgotten people of this city. I am here not just to hand out soup and blankets, but to remind you all that you are viable human beings, and your contribution to me would be invaluable. In short, I believe in you all.”

There were murmurs in the crowd. Part of me was impressed, part of me was even more concerned. Was she fishing the homeless for slave labor?

“But the question remains: do you believe in yourselves? That answer lies in yourself, but perhaps you are confused as to how to find it. I can help you.

“First of all, I want everyone in the room to look me in the eyes. Let me establish contact with you.”

I gulped and looked around. Everyone in the room had their gaze fixed on Kendra. I knew it would look suspicious for me not to. Besides, Betty was urging me to.

The glow...

“Now take a deep breath. Eyes on me. The answer is in your heart, my friends.”

Yes, it was unmistakable. Kendra’s eyes were... shimmering. In a strange green color. My breath quickened, and at once, I tried to look away.

I couldn’t. The glow held me somehow.

“Relax. You will find the answer.” Kendra was still speaking. My eyes started to burn, not with pain but with desire. No, Lou! Keep your head about you! But I couldn’t look away, and that glow, whatever it was, was taking away my ability to think. It was much easier to just stare into the light, and relax.

“Now take another deep breath, but with this breath I want you to collect up all your doubts, all your inner fears, and when you exhale, release the tension. Then you will be clear and you can begin your own search for your answer. On the count of three...

“One...”

The panic of surrender flooded my being like water through a broken dam.

“Two...”

I took a deep breath. I was afraid to let go, but I was so swept away that I didn’t feel like I had much choice in the matter. I...

“Three...”

All fear left me. I closed my eyes...

I was watching a street corner in New York City. Everything looked strangely dim.

There were two people talking on the curb, a guy and a girl. They looked oddly familiar. I tried to call to them, but no sound came out of my mouth.

“Hey baby,” the guy said. “How’s it hanging?”

The girl sighed deeply and thrust her hands into her pockets. “My dad left us,” she muttered. “I woke up this morning and he was gone.”

That’s funny... my dad left too... when I was sixteen. Wait a minute...

“Awww,” the guy said in mock sympathy. I could tell he was annoyed. “Well, why don’t you let a real daddy make it better for you, Lou baby?”

He leered over her... me... that was me... and this was... no! I screamed now, frantically, but again, no voice.

“Is that how you want to solve everything?” I... the girl said. “Through sex?”

He looked like I had tried to punch him. “Well, why did you come to me about it, then?”

“Maybe I thought you’d be able to be supportive,” the young version of me shot back, voice quavering. “Maybe I thought you would listen.”

“Is that so, huh? Is that so? Well, maybe I’m tired of listening to you bitch and moan about all your problems!” He was yelling now, so everyone could hear. “You just come crying to me, and I can’t do anything to help you! I’m sorry! So your dad left! Big deal! That’s life! Deal with it!“

I... the present version of me... stepped back. No... I couldn’t take this. This is the moment of my life I kept avoiding over and over again. I didn’t want to do it again. Not again...

“I’M TRYING AS HARD AS I CAN!” the young version of me screamed. We were both swallowing our tears.

I tried to cover my ears. Pointless. I could hear everything, and I knew what he was going to say next. I didn’t want those words to hit me again like they did so long ago.

“If you need someone to listen to you... then you’re not trying hard enough.”

I ran away.

I ran away.

I ran away...

I screamed madly and jumped right out of my bed. It took me a moment to realize that I had been dreaming.

Dreaming.

I wiped the sweat off my brow, and stared at myself in the mirror. I was there, all thirty-one years of me. That bitch! How dare she get in my head! I yelled and banged the mirror in my rage, then paused.

I was home.

Wait a second. I didn’t remember doing anything after falling asleep at the homeless shelter.

So... how did I get home?

Unless...

FUCK.

I didn’t get any more sleep that night.

The sun was too fucking close.

Those were my thoughts as I looked out the window. My hands barely held the phone in my hand. They shook way too much.

Velma. Betty. Kendra. The eyes.

My dream...

“Hello... Sir,” I said to Isaac. “Ms. Reinhardt here.”

“Hello, Ms. Reinhardt,” Isaac replied. I immediately knew something was wrong. The smarminess in his voice, the belief of superiority—it was gone. “How are you doing today?” he went on.

“Look, Sir,” I went on. “Do you still want to know what your wife is into?” And why was I calling him Sir?

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Isaac said. “There are more important things to me now than the fidelity of my wife.”

“I see,” I said. “So they got to you, too.”

“Got to me, Ms. Reinhardt?” Isaac answered, as if he didn’t know what I was talking about. “What do you mean?”

“Forget it,” I said exasperatedly. “Look... you can forget about paying me. It doesn’t matter anymore, okay? Look... I’ll just stop bothering you. I know you must be busy. I’ll stop taking up your time.”

“No trouble at all, Ms. Reinhardt,” Isaac Hothe said finally. “Good day.”

“Yeah, whatever.” With that, I hung up the phone, and turned my chair back towards the window. I began to rub my temples.

Sexual conspiracy. Mind control. Slave labor. Shiny eyes.

I remembered the dream. And I remembered waking up.

‘Oh God,’ I whispered to myself. ‘Shouldn’t they have... come after me by now?’

“Leucosia Reinhardt?”

Me and my big mouth.

“Who wants... to know...”

I knew the voice. I didn’t dare turn my chair. Because if I looked in those eyes, there’d be no way I could fight her.

She knew my name, too. My given name...

“I already know, Leucosia. You told me,” Kendra Forge stated. “You told me many other things too.”

“You... brainwashed me into telling you! You got in my head! How dare you!”

“I did nothing to force you,” Kendra Forge told me. “You were crying out to be heard. I was only there to listen.”

I turned my chair slightly. Not enough to face her.

“I was happy before I ever ran into you,” I muttered.

Kendra gave a soft chuckle, one that wasn’t obviously spiteful, or sounding like she thought she was better than me. “You were never happy, Leucosia. I think you know that, deep down inside.”

“What would you know about it?” I huffed.

“I told you. You already told me all about it. Your heart, Leu... it never healed. And you know things will never get better for you until you start listening to your heart.

“I can help you.”

I heard that before. I turned a few steps more in my chair and looked from the corner of my eye at Kendra Forge. Still dressed as prim and proper as she was back at the shelter, her raven black hair done in quite a professional way.

“Who says I need help?” I said roughly.

“You already know you do,” Kendra Forge replied. “If you didn’t, you would never have surrendered back at the shelter. And besides... as a businesswoman, I have a use for you.”

“Use...? What do you mean?”

“I have a proposal for you, Leucosia Reinhardt. You work for me, as my personal investigator. In exchange, I help you make amends with your past.”

The dream came back to me, and I felt a chill run through my spine.

You should have cried, Leu...

I suddenly felt a longing to revisit that scene in my past, and tried to avoid appearing sentimental while considering the proposal.

“Couldn’t you just zap my brain, and make me go along with you anyway?”

“Yes,” Kendra said frankly. “I could. But I’m not. Doesn’t that tell you something?”

“Maybe... you’re just playing head games...”

“That’s your call,” Kendra said. “You can reject me, and go on living life the way you are now. Is that really what you want?”

I looked at Kendra’s reflection in the mirror. She was sitting down, prim and proper as you please with her arms crossed. She just regarded me... waiting for me to turn to her, perhaps.

I thought about the dream again, and felt a burning behind my eyelids. My eyes were wet. It had been years since I cried. In fact, the day I recalled in my dream was the last day I cried.

I spoke, trying to hide my emotion. “I don’t like to not have control over myself.”

I could see Kendra lean upon the desk. “Trust me, I know,” she said. “You’ve insisted on having it thus far to guard your heart. But you’ve done it so long, you’ve forgotten how to listen to it yourself. It’s time to admit that you need help—and that you’re no less of a woman because of it.”

I closed my eyes. I was sure she was watching them.

“One thing,” I whispered.

“Yes?”

“Let me change my name. I suppose... you can use my real name when you try to help me, but to everyone else I want to be known as someone else. At least, for now.”

Kendra Forge leaned back.

“I suppose that can be done,” she said. “As long as you allow me to use your name when I am with you alone.”

“Alright,” I said, turning towards Kendra. “I’ll go along.”

The last thing I saw was her eyes... then the world as I had come to know it swam away from me.