The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Let the eye of your mind draw closer, unto this world. Through the clouds, across the oceans and the seas. Let it settle on a land mass, one that it’s inhabitants call England. Focus in closer on one of its major cities, London. Even closer now, to the center of the city. Further still, to an office block bearing the initials ACT. Enter through a window into an office and through the office into a cubical, no different from the others that surround it. Focus on the circled advertisement in a newspaper, on the empty desk.

Submitted for your approval.

‘New on the market, 4 bedroom house. No chain. Ideal for first-time buyers, or professional sharers. Central heating, fitted bathroom, large kitchen and dining area. Must be viewed, lots of character.’

The sun was high in the midday sky, unseasonably warm for this late into the autumn, when Mark, Sada, Brian and Heather arrived at the house. It was only ten minutes journey from London and close to the local station making it ideal for these four young professionals.

The house looked magnificent, the sunlight catching each and every detail of the house’s exquisite brickwork. The architecture had a turn of the century feel to it, without making the house look old. All the woodwork, frames, windows and guttering were also in a similarly well-preserved state. At the front door stood the estate agent, nervously fingering his clipboard.

Mark looked dapper in his black business suit, shirt and tie, his short haircut finishing the picture. Sada stood next to him, the blue suit contrasting nicely with her Mediterranean skin. Brian stood there in his Rugby shirt, rubbing his shaven pate as if to get a shine, taking a relaxed drag from his cigarette. And lastly, stood Heather, wearing glasses that hid her beautiful blue eyes, a dress that looked like it came from ‘Nice & Sensible’, and her hair in a bun so tight it probably cut the blood supply off to her brain.

“Mr. Bradshaw?” he asked, looking at Brian.

“No, he’s Bradshaw,” replied Brian, pointing over to Mark.

“Ah, come this way,” and with that the agent took them into the house.

It was a standard estate agent tour of the house, with the agent carefully guiding them in and out of rooms at a pace. That said, the rooms themselves did not need to be hidden from view, as each one appeared well-built and cleverly designed. The only hiccup in the tour came when they reached the loft entrance.

“I, um, seem to have lost the key to the loft, I can’t imagine what’s happened.”

“Hmmm, well I don’t think we’ll be missing much up there,” said Mark, and left it at that.

The tour at an end, the estate agent done the usual final round-up of the tour, saying how lucky they were to find such a property for such a low price this close to London. Mark thanked him for his time, and drove off with the others. As soon as they were out of site, the estate agent jump into his car and drove away from the house so fast that he was stopped for speeding a mile and a half later.

In an ironically named ‘Happy Eater’, on the M25, the four of them sat and pondered the property they had just seen.

“It looks very nice and spacious,” said Heather, looking at Mark and Sada. She had known the pair for only a couple of months, since she started work at Amalgamated Conglomerates Trading (or ACT, for short), but seemed to be prefect for one another. Brian was a bit, well, odd but he was fun.

“Yeah, but if it’s so nice, why is it so cheap?” said Brian, taking a drag on his cigarette and snatching a quick glance at Heather. Personally, he couldn’t see what Mark saw in Sada. Right snooty cow, he thought, makes sure everyone pronounces her name SAD-DAR. That Heather’s not bad though, I wouldn’t mind a piece of her.

“Maybe the last tenant passed away, with no relatives leave it to,” said Sada. Typical, she thought, trust Brian to throw a spoke in the works. He always pronounces my name wrong; Say-der. Is that so hard to say?

“I know what Brian’s saying, but it is too good to let go,” said Mark. He’d been with Sada for six happy months. Those six months had been a year and half ago. Since then, things had started to unravel. He was hoping that getting a place of their own would patch things up. Of course they couldn’t afford a place on their own, but if they converted the first floor flat for Heather and Brian, and charged them rent, it might just work. “So, depending on the money situation with the bank, I’m up for buying the place. The point is, if we do, are you interested in renting the first floor?”

“Well, I’m fine with it, Mark,” said Heather.

“Take goes for me as well, I guess,” said Brian.

“Ma-ark,” said Sada, in what she thought was a sexy and sensual voice.

“umhf,” replied Mark, as he unstuck his eyelid from the pillow. He looked at his bedside clock, and noted with some concern that it was 3:15. “What’s the matter S?” he said turning to Sada.

“I just wanted to thank you for agreeing to buy that house.”

“You’re welcome. Goodnight.” Mark turned to go back to sleep, but Sada’s hand prevented him.

“No, I wanted to thank you, personally,” said Sada, rolling Mark onto his back and positioning her naked body above him.

“Oh? Oh!”

Nothing much happened in the weeks that followed. The days passed one after another, as days do.

The last moving van left the house after dumping its load. It had taken the best part of two months to complete all the paperwork, but finally the house was officially Mark and Sada’s. The estate agent had arrived this morning to hand Mark the deeds. He also handed him the number of a local builder, which Mark thought was odd.

The unpacking was a laborious task, with open warfare taking place between Sada and Brian. This placed Mark in a really bad position. He’d known and been friends with Brian since University. Admittedly, a large percentage of that time had been spent in an alcoholic stupor with Brian. Sada, on the other hand, could withhold sex if she didn’t get her own way. He banished Brian upstairs.

“This really sucks,” said Brian, standing in first floor hallway to no one in particular. He took the cigarette out of his mouth, and placed it behind his ear.

“What’s the matter, Brian,” said Heather, as she unpacked a case of clothes. It seemed to Mark that they were all very much similar in style. Jumpsuit, sweatshirt, baggy trousers, another jumpsuit all designed to make her look frumpy.

“Oh, Sada.” Heather noted the look that passed across Brian’s face. He didn’t have the most beautiful face is the world, but it was comfortable, like an old pair of slippers. And it really came alive when he smiled, his eyes sparkling against his dark brown skin. His smile was, like most things about him, big. Not that he was big in a gangly, tall way; he looked as it he had been built slightly above scale.

“What’s the matter? Don’t you like her?”

“It’s not that. I just think that she’s sucking the very life from my best friend, like a demented hobgoblin.” Brian ran his hand over his shaven head, and down through his beard.

“That’s not a nice way to talk about someone.”

“Oh come on! You must know what a pain she can be.”

“She is, er, a bit high-maintenance.”

“High-maintenance?! She’s a pain.” Brian shot a look at Heather, and saw that she looked uncomfortable at this conversation. With unusual tact for Brian, he changed the subject. “So, what’s your reason for living here?”

“Oh, I just had to move out of where I was living right now. My lease was up, you see, and Sada mentioned about this place. So, what about you?”

“I just needed a new gaff, since my last one was a pigsty.” Brian’s eyes traced their way around the hallway. They settled on the loft hatch. “Hmm...”

“Pardon?”

“I was just thinking about that hatch. Did Mark pick up the keys to from the estate agent.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Pity I wanted to see what was up here. Probably a dead body or something.”

“You can always make a trip to the town to collect the keys from the agent.”

“Pff! Sounds too much like hard work. C’mon let’s get finished with this unpacking.”

The following weekend Mark was in town collecting doing the main shopping trip of the week for the household, when remembered to call into the estate agent for keys to the loft. Brian had been carping on unremittingly about them for the last couple of days. This, in turn started Sada off, whilst Heather tried to blend into the background and not offend anyone. Not that the simple task of picking up the keys didn’t have it’s own, strange twist.

“There you go, sir,” the agent had said, handing him the keys. “And remember, if you need anything done, it’s best to call those builders I recommended.”

Not for the first time, Mark had second thoughts about moving to this place.

“Sada, do you want to do the honors?” Mark said, as he gave her the keys to the loft. Brian and Heather were standing behind her as she ascended the stepladder.

“It gives me great pleasure to declare this loft open!” And with that, Sada turned the key in the lock and gave the hatch a push. Instead of springing open, the hatch stayed resolutely shut, causing Sada launch herself backward off the stepladder, falling onto Heather.

“I’m sure the lock is just stuck or something,” said Mark, starting up the ladder and turning the key in the lock.

“Here, let me have a go,” said Brian, hefting large mallet, and bringing it so bear inches from Mark’s face as he busted the hatch open and partially off it’s hinges.

“Oh really swift, Brian!” shouted Sada, as Mark also fell backwards off the stepladder and landed in heap next to Sada and Heather. “All it needed was a drop of oil or something!”

“It open, isn’t it?”

“That’s not the point, Brian”

“It’s exactly the point. Now let’s see what exactly is up here.” Brian lifted himself up through the hatch, and into the loft itself. “My GOD!” he shrieked, the shock in his voice sending a shiver down the spines of the other three.

“What...what is it?” stammered Heather, her face slowly draining of color.

“It’s...”

“Yes, Brian?” Mark had staggered to his feet, a look of concern etched onto his face.

“It’s...”

“What the fuck is it, Brian?” said Sada, glaring at Brian’s feet, the only part of him still visible.

“It’s a really big and completely empty room,” laughed Brian as he pocked his head out through the hatchway.

“You wanker! Come on, you two, lets leave this joker to his own devices,” said Mark walking off downstairs. Heather joined him, and so did Sada, although not before kicking the stepladder away from the hatch.

“Oh c’mon guys,” Brian cried out as the three went downstairs. “Guys!?”

“Mark?”

“Yes?” He said, turning to face his boss. “Is there something wrong?”

“Not as such, it’s just that we someone to go over to America for a week.”

“I don’t see that being a problem, who’d you have in mind?”

“You, Mark.”

“I’m not sure that I can...”

“Look, if there was any way I could go, I would, but I can’t.”

“Ok, I suppose if Sada is coming along...”

“I’m sorry, but she can’t. This is a business trip, not a some dirty weekend!”

“But, but, I’ve got the builders in...”

“Then Sada will have to deal with it herself.”

“You arsehole!” Yelled Sada, he voice rebounding off the walls of the kitchen, as she threw another plate at Mark.

“Look, he made it clear that if I didn’t go, I’d never be promoted again.”

“You didn’t think to invite me along, did you?” Shouted Sada, winding up to launch a saucepan at Mark. Mark ducked under pan as it sailed over him and gently grabbed Sada.

“I tried, love,” he said, looking her straight in the eye, “but old Wilkins wasn’t having any of it.”

“Don’t think I’ll forgive you,” said Sada, but already her eyes were softening. Mark felt her body beginning to relax.

“I know, I’m a bad, rude, man.”

“Mmmm, I like bad men.”

“Yeah, right,”

“They get me so HOT!”

“Sada?” said Mark, and then he felt it. It was as if a thousand voices on the cusp of his hearing were talking, cajoling, and urging him to do something. He body no longer felt like it was his own. He felt dizzy and warm; he that if he laid his hand down, electricity would arc from it, grounding itself on anything it touched. His eyes were locked on Sada, the object of his desire, his being, and his life. He’d do another for her, and so he did. He gave in to the siren call of the voices in his head.

His hand slowly traced the shape of her slender body, ending its journey at the top of her jeans. He undid the buttons of her jeans, slipping his hand inside her panties and down into pubic hair. As he lent forward and began to kiss her, his other hand worked its way inside her shirt, slipping inside her bra and fondling her breast. Sada gasped, and moved her hands over Mark’s bottom, touching rubbing, grabbing, as the lust welled up inside her. She ground her hips as Mark began to pleasure her, her mind reduced to merely a collection of sexual desires of submission to the pleasure that gripped her. We’re no longer two people, she thought, we are one sexual entity, one pleasure-driven being, one...

“Excuse me, am I interrupting anything?” Mark and Sada turned to see Brian standing by the door. They had no idea how long he’d been standing there, or what he’d seen. They just stood, hands inside each other’s clothes, and looked at him.

“I’ll just be leaving then,” said Brian, the smirk on his face remaining long after he had left, like a West Indian Cheshire cat.

“And then Sada hooked her legs around Mark,” said Brian as he relayed the indiscrete liaison to Heather in her room. “Thank God I got in there when I did, or he’d have been dead!”

“Oh, I don’t think I could do that.”

“What, do the nasty in the kitchen? It’s okay unless you’ve got those cold, hard ceramic tiles. They’re most uncomfortable.”

“No, I mean sex before marriage. It’s so...sinful.”

“Really?” said Brian. Was she on the level? Nah, no one could be that screwed up, could they?

“Yes, that’s what the nuns at my convent school always said.”

“Ah, right, I understand.”

“They said I would suffer fiery damnation if I did.”

“Okay.” Help, thought Brian, I need to change the subject. “Er, I don’t suppose you’ve found my Fugees album yet?”

After what had happened the day before, Mark was secretly glad to get on the red-eye to America on Saturday. All that had happened in that kitchen seemed unreal. It was totally out of character for Sada. Hell, he thought, as the stewardess checked his seat belt, it was out of character for me!

As the plane lifted off and climbed to it’s cruising altitude, Mark looked out of the window, and down at the ground far below. It was a clear day without a cloud in the sky and the towns and cities were laid out like a great big jigsaw. With a feeling of almost overpowering sadness, he realised that he should never have left.

“Heather, is that you? It’s Mark. Put Sada on.” This was costing Mark the proverbial arm and leg, but after the flight, he had to phone up Sada. He had to put out of his mind the feeling he had been experiencing.

“Mark?” Sada’s voice crackle over the telephone line.

“Sada! It’s so good to hear your voice. How are you?”

“I’m fine Mark. Why the sudden concern?”

“It’s...just that I’m missing you.”

“That’s nice. Now, listen. The builders are coming in tomorrow, and I have to stay in with them. They do know what they are doing, I hope.”

“Yes, dear. I briefed them myself. They’re professionals, not like those cowboys the estate agent wanted me to employ.”

“Just as long as they don’t try anything funny.”

Sada, Brian and Heather took turns to take the day off work and supervise the rebuilding work. The main job was to connect plumbing, gas and electricity supplies from the downstairs supply to an upstairs box room that would serve as Heather and Brian’s bathroom. Unfortunately, most of these pipes were situated in the kitchen. It wasn’t until day three that the builder’s noticed something odd.

“It’s the floor, missus,” said the foreman, looking at the floor in the downstairs kitchen, “it’s unsound.”

“Unsound,” said Heather, puzzled, “how?”

“Well, it seems that part the floor is hollow.” He stamped his foot on part of the floor, and received a hollow empty sound.

“Really, what’s causing that?”

“Don’t know until we have the floor boards up.”

For the rest of the morning, the builders proceeded to rip up the flooring of the kitchen. Eventually, at lunchtime, the foreman called Heather back in.

“We’ve found the cause,” said the foreman pointing to a hatch door, embedded in the floor. “It’s a hatch door to a basement.”

“Really? Can you open it for me?”

“I’d love to, dear, but we’ve an urgent repair booked for this afternoon. We’ll get it open tomorrow for you.”

After the builders left, Heather found herself feeling curious about the hatch. She walked back into the wrecked kitchen, and looked down at the door. She reached out her hand, and then pulled it back. She reached out again and grabbed the ornate brass ring embedded into the wooden door. The more she looked at the door, the more detail became apparent. Silver filigree decorated the seasoned timber of the door. It stuck her that even the wood was not the same at the rest of the wood in the house. It looked as if it was almost...breathing. That’s silly, she thought, just as silly as thinking that I can shift this by myself. She gave the ring a slight pull, and was flung backward by the force of the hatch opening. She got up and edged forward, peering over the edge of the hatch. A brass rung ladder was visible, leading down to where? I’d better wait until the others get back, she thought. And then another thought entered her mind. Why wait for them, it said, you don’t need they say so to do anything.

Against her better judgement, she slowly climbed down the ladder to the room below. It was pitch black and she felt clumsy in the dark. Her hands reached blindly around until she found what seemed to feel like a lamp. She fiddled with the mystery object, and with a sudden flash of light, it lit up the room. Blinking away the temporary blindness, she saw the lamp. It looked like a Victorian gas lamp. Funny, she thought, I thought the entire house was electric. She then took in the room that she was in.

There was a general bookish air to the place, with a large bookcase dominating one wall. In the center of the room was a mahogany table, complete with gold leafwork, worth an absolute fortune. And at the end of the room was a huge golden statue of a snake, a king cobra, about to strike. It’s eyes were jeweled, rubies probably, and as wide as saucers. The room seemed to almost bend around it, so that it was the central focus for anyone in the room. The eyes were so expressive, it was as if the statue was alive. No, the eyes were commanding, dominant, willing you to look deeper, and deeper, and deeper into them...

No, that’s ridiculous, thought Heather, as she forced herself to look at the books. The books were undoubtedly old, covered in dust and with yellowing pages. Of the few titles she could understand, they referred to studies in Egyptology, in particular to cults regarding the worship of Set, the snake god. Yes, that explains the statue.

She turned and saw she was now almost beside the statue. Her eyes locked onto the statue’s. She tried to look away, but to no avail. The deep red eyes looked straight through her, into her mind. It was as if they were telling her to relax, to submit, to give in and come closer. Heather felt light-headed, maybe it was the gas from the lamp, she thought, as she moved closer to the statue. As she stood a hairbreadth away from the golden cobra, it’s eyes filled her world. The last remnants of Heather’s will left her, and she stood there an empty vessel.

The cobra reared its head back, and struck. Its mouth wrapped around her neck, as it’s fangs penetrated her jugular vein, pumping it full of its foul venom. She fell backwards as the venom took effect, her body shaking spasmodically. Her mouth started to foam. Her vision started to alter, as the room began to warp and bend obscenely like a hall of mirrors. A torrent of voices assaulted her ears, no, her mind. Thousands upon thousands of voices screaming at her, over and over and over, until finally...

With a scream, she woke up. She was on her bed but her clothes were soaked. It had been just a dream. Or was it. She ran downstairs to the kitchen, only to find that there was no sign of the hatch. She got down on her knees and examined the floor, but still found no trace of the hatch. She passed the whole episode off as a bad dream, neglecting to tell the others about her experience. She had an early night, complaining to the other that she did not feel well.

Heather’s eyes slowly opened. She looked at her bedside clock, which stated that it was the ungodly hour of four in the morning. I feel...different, she thought, as she absent-mindedly she slipped out of bed. She flicked on her nightlight, and walked over to her clothes mirror, in almost a dreamlike state. The mirror was one the old style, full-length models so most people could see themselves from head to toe in them. Heather slipped out of her nightgown, and undid her auburn hair, letting it unravel down to the middle of her back. She then looked at herself.

She started at her feet, her gaze moving upwards. She noticed that her legs were completely devoid of hair. That’s odd, she thought, without any concern, it’s not as if I shave them. Her eyes traveled up to her crotch, which she noted, again without emotion or surprise, was smooth and hairless. She was puzzled about the hair loss. After all, that was what was responsible for her mind-numbing shyness. The constant taunts about her hairiness at convent school had long eroded her self-confidence.

Her eyes moved up to her breasts. They seemed...fuller. They had a more sensual shape. They looked, she assumed, more pleasing to the eyes of others. She laid a hand on her nipple and began to rub and stroke it. Warm, pleasant feelings flooded her body, as her nipples became aroused. She stroked more passionately, as her other hand snaked down to crotch. Her hairless crotch felt so much more sensitive now, as her hand began to explore. This is wrong, thought part of her, the nuns at convent school always taught us that self-gratification was wrong. That’s why she never did it, because it would lead to damnation. But how can this be wrong, the rest of her mind thought, when it feels so good. Her fingers worked her clitoris, massaging the nub, before entering her vagina. She fingered herself harder and harder, one hand on her crotch and the other on her breasts, working her way to an almost frenzied orgasm. Harder, faster, deeper, must come, she thought, all other thoughts being set aside. Finally with an animalistic grunt of pleasure, she came, and sunk to her knees. She lifted her hand, wet with her juices to her mouth and licked them dry. Then she looked at herself again in the mirror, and smiled. She looked at her eyes, her smile, her whole body, and she knew.

“As if things weren’t difficult enough!” said Sada, looking at Brian across the breakfast table.

“Hey, anyone can get ill. Don’t worry, I’ll look after Heather as well as the builders.”

“Good god, why did Mark have to run off like that?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it was because he had to or else he’d lose his job.”

“Trust you to back him up.”

“Yeah, yeah, up yours too!”

After Sada left, Brian checked on Heather. She’d been running a temperature that morning, so work was out of the question. He saw to it that she was comfortable before meeting up with the builders. The builders seemed odd. One would be working in the kitchen for a while, and then stop, look at a point in the middle of the floor, before turning back to work. It was as if something was missing that should be there. Finally, the builders left, and Brian returned upstairs to see how Heather was.

“You feeling okay?” said Brian, leaning through the door. She certainly looked better. Hell, she’d even got rid of that dreadful hair bun.

“Better now,” said Heather, smiling, her lips blood red. Was she wearing lipstick, thought Brian, in bed?

“If there’s anything you want...”

“I could do with some company,” she said, motioning to him to sit down on the bed next to her.

“Sure, why not?” said Brian as he sat down.

“You know, we’ve know each other for, what is it, six months, and I don’t know a single thing about you.” And with that she giggled, and played with her hair. Brian’s finely tuned pulling instincts recognised these none too subtle signs and he switched down into small talk mode. Another part of his brain noted that she was a convent schoolgirl, and probably wasn’t interested, but the rest of his brain overruled it.

“Well, what can I say. I’ve known Mark for four and a half years, and at least two weeks of that time we’ve both been sober at the same time. I like to cook Cajun style food, which explains why everything I make looks burnt to buggery.”

“Oh, you’re so funny,” said Heather, actually sounding like she meant it. She shifted her position.

“No, really. And like Marvin Gaye, I’m in need of some sexual healing,” he said with a smile, stroking his beard. He then looked down and realised that Heather was at least topless under the covers. He hadn’t noticed this before as the covers were up by her neck. But now a nipple was clearly visible, along with a fair bit else.

“Really?”

“Ah, no, sorry, bad joke. Gee, is that the time?”

“No, I think that you’re definitely in need of some serious sexual healing. And I’ve got just the prescription!” She pulled back the covers to reveal her completely naked body, waiting and, as Brian noted, moist.

“Wow,” was all Brian could manage.

“Come closer, Brian, let me tell you all about me,” she said as she pulled him closer.

“Um, isn’t this a bit quick?” he said. What he thought was, Shit! She is stacked! Crap! Why didn’t I make a move earlier?

“You worry too much. You just have to learn to relax. I can help.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Yes, all you have to do is listen to me.” She placed her hand on his face as she spoke. “And look into my eyes.”

“Uh?”

“And just relax; it’s easy. Let my eyes fill your world.”

“Heather?”

“Yes?”

“I thought you had blue eyes, not green.”

“I’m wearing contacts.”

“Oh.”

“Just relax, let my eyes fill your world...your mind...your soul. Don’t it feel good?”

“Um, yeah,” mumbled Brian, as he struggled to cut through the fog that suddenly surrounded his mind. It was suddenly so hard to think straight. It seemed simpler to just listen to Heather.

“You know that I know just how to please you, and you in turn want to please me back, don’t you?”

“Um-huh.”

“That’s good. Why don’t you start by leaning over and kissing me?” Heather’s mouth smothered his, her tongue darting in and out of his mouth like Moray Eel. There was no love here, no attraction just pure lust. The shock of this realization shook Brian out of his dreamlike state.

“This isn’t...right,” he said, struggling over each word.

“Of course it’s right, just look me in the eyes and say it isn’t,” And once again he was lost. Lost in the deep emerald green eyes. Eyes that told him to relax, calm down, submit to ebb and flow of the world. Eyes that looked almost like those of a snake.

Once more his lips locked with hers, pushing her back onto the bed and positioning his body over hers. His right hand ran over the curves and contours of her form, through each and every nook. It settled on her clit, feeling her body tremble as he did. He was lost in lust, in her eyes, her wonderful eyes. He moved his head to her left breast and began to suck and nibble. Her body trembled again as she giggled at his touch. He felt her move slightly, and then felt the warm touch of her breath on his neck, her lips the merest fraction of an inch away. He felt her body tense, as if she was about to move suddenly, and then...

“Brian, Heather? I’m home!” Shouted Sada from downstairs.

“Shit,” said Brian, pulling sharply away from Heather, the spell broken. “Look, um, sorry about this, got to go and see Sada.”

“I understand,” said Heather, smiling and rearranging her bedclothes so that she was covered.

Sada had apparently decided to come home early because she was worried about Heather. Admittedly this was a change of form for Sada, but he was glad of the company. He sat down to dinner and decided to talk to Sada about the events of earlier that day.

“Sada?”

“Yes?”

“Have you noticed anything about Heather lately? Anything odd?”

“Odd? What do you mean?”

“Oh, behavior-wise. And appearance, I suppose. I mean, I had no idea that she’d started to wear contact lenses.”

“Contact lenses? She’d always said she was allergic to them. Anyway, she can see perfectly well without glasses. She’s not short sighted you know.”

“Hmmm, really.”

“So why do ask? Good God, you’re not trying to get into her knickers, are you?”

“Of course not!”

“You are! You’ll fuck anything with a pulse!”

“Could you shout just a little bit louder, I don’t think the whole town quite heard you!”

“Brian’s got a girlfriend! Na-na-na-na.”

“Drop dead, you sloppy whore!”

“That’ll probably be the only to avoid you cocking me!” Said Sada, smiling from ear to ear.

“...”

“What? The great Brian James speechless? I thought it would never happen”

“I’m off to bed.”

“Make sure Heather isn’t in it when you get in.”

Brian laid in bed, trying to recount the events of the day. Fact, Heather was acting way odd. Thankfully, Sada was her usual effervescent self. What was it about Heather? The merest thought summoned a plurality of erotic images to his mind. Concentrate, he told himself. What was different? She seemed, well, shapelier than before, but he’d never seen her without her ever-present jumpers before now. Hair! Now that was odd. She had no public hair, and what’s more there was no stubble. Now either she was using the world’s best ladyshave or...what? Drugs, with really weird side effects, like hair loss and increased sex drive? Oh, this is impossible, thought Brian, and turned over and went to sleep.

“Sada? It’s me, Mark. I’m just calling to say that I’ll be on my way back straight after my meeting this afternoon. I should be back tomorrow afternoon.”

“That’s good news.”

“Is everything alright? You sound a bit...”

“Everything’s fine; I’m just having to baby-sit Heather today, as well as the builders. Thankfully, they say they’ll be finished by this evening.”

“Good, good. You are going to met me at the airport, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am, don’t worry.”

“How’s everything been?” the first words uttered by Brian, as he stumbled through the door. His face radiated genuine concern, which was a first, thought Sada.

“Fine. What do you care?”

“Oh, no reason.” Brian sat down, still in his coat and looked at Sada. “Are you Okay?”

“Yes, why shouldn’t I be?”

“Oh, no reason.”

“Brian?”

“Yes Sada?”

“You’re going insane.”

“Thought as much.”

Sada lay in her bed and thought. What’s Brian up to? First Heather and now me, what is his concern. Or maybe he’s trying to get into my pants? God no! I mean, we’ve had this ongoing war since, well, we first met. Where’s the logic in that? Still, Heather is acting...odd. All she did was smile half-heartedly when I came in to check on her. Not like her at all. Hopefully sanity will return when Mark does.

Brian lay in his bed and thought. Well today was a bit more...normal. Maybe I misinterpreted the signals from Heather. But, it was odd, her acting like that. At least Sada is normal, or as normal as she ever gets. Makes me almost glad for her psycho bitch attitude.

The being that used to be Heather lay in her bed and thought. So many minds, so many lustful thoughts...mmm! So many souls to corrupt and bodies to defile. All for the pleasure of my Lord and Master. Brian is...wary of me now; he will need time to turn. But Sada is ripe; lonely and wanton. All we have to do is pluck the fruit from the tree, and BITE!

Sada heard the creak on the stairs as someone crept down to the ground landing outside her and Mark’s room. She glanced up at her clock radio. The bright red figures resolved themselves into 2:32. She was about to place her head back down on the pillow, when the door squeaked. Sada turned over quickly to see Heather bearing down on her, completely naked.

“What the hell are you doing?” Said Sada, as Heather sat down beside her on the bed. “Have you gone totally mad?”

“I just thought you’d like the company,” said Heather, and smiled that same watery half smile.

“I do not! And what is the meaning of coming into my room naked?” Sada pulled the clothes up around her protectively.

“This? Oh, I always sleep in the altogether. You didn’t think...” Heather giggled at the idea. “You did, didn’t you? You thought I wanted to have sex with you.” She giggled again.

“Well, I, er,” Sada was stuck for word, feeling embarrassed by her insinuation.

“No, I just thought that you wanted a bit of comfort, that you were missing Mark.” Heather placed a hand on Sada’s face. “You feel so tense. You need to relax.”

“Well, I...”

“Shhh. Just relax, there’s nothing here to hurt you.”

“Heather, I...” And she was dumbstruck again. Heather was looking straight at her, with her beautiful green eyes. They seemed to fill her whole vision. So green, and deep, so...restful.

“That’s right, just relax, and look deeply into my eyes. It’s all you want to do...just to drift away into them...nothing else matters...everything else is just fading away...don’t think...don’t worry...just relax...just drift deeper and deeper and deeper down into the green depths of my eyes.” Heather moved so she was kneeling on the bed. She slipped her hands inside Sada’s nightdress, and began to fondle Sada’s breasts.

“Ummmah,” Sada groaned with pleasure, her mind fogged and her eyes trapped by Heather’s gaze.

“So good isn’t it...so relaxed...so calm...no need to think, or worry, just to do as I want. You do want to do what I want, don’t you?”

“Yes...”

“Good,” and with that Heather clasped the sides of Sada’s head and began to pull her gently forward. As she did, Heather rolled onto her back, spreading her legs wide and guiding Sada’s head down into her wet, open vagina. Smothered by Heather’s crotch, Sada began to pleasure Heather, lapping up her juices like a thirsty dog. As Sada did this, Heather locked her legs behind Sada’s head, pushing it further and further into her. The harder Heather pushed, the more Sada ate her out, until finally a mighty orgasm shook Heather’s body, and she pushed Sada backwards so that she hit the headboard.

This sudden impact jolted Sada out of the trance. What had happened? Her nipples were hard and erect, her crotch wet and engorged. Her heart was beating hard, and with a lick of her lips, she could taste Heather’s juices round her mouth. Had Heather drugged her and then raped her? She had to escape. She looked up to see Heather rearing back on her knees, her arms splayed behind and her breasts jutting out. I must escape, thought Sada, looking up until her eyes met Heather’s...And she was lost once more.

“Poor Sada, how little you know,” said Heather, gently swaying from side to side. “Don’t worry now...Just look into my eyes, deep into my eyes,” the swaying becoming faster. The transfixed Sada began to move in time with Heather, from side to side. “Let me free you from worry, from burden, from thought.” The swaying got faster still.

“Yes,” said Sada, entranced and mimicking each and every sway.

“Good,” said Heather, and sprung forward, bearing a pair of viper-like fangs that pierced Sada’s throat. As the venom began to enter Sada’s bloodstream, her vision warped and distorted obscenely before finally fading to black.

The two women could hardly keep their hands off of each other as they crept into the kitchen, and opened the hatch to the cellar below, a couple of hours later. The hatch closed with hardly a sound. Soon after, a bizarre, unearthly sound began to emanate from the hatch. A sound of voices raised in chanting.

Brian woke up late. After washing and getting dressed, he walked downstairs to the kitchen. He said good morning to Heather and Sada, and made himself a cup of coffee in a vain bid to wake up. He then picked up the day’s paper and started to read. After a few minutes, he put the paper down and looked at the two women. They seemed to be enjoying each other’s company, giggling and laughing at one another. He then took in their clothing.

Heather was wearing the minimalist garb that she was now wearing as standard these days; tight T-shirt, short denim pants. The strange thing was that Sada seemed to be wearing something very similar. Not exactly the same clothes, more expensive for one thing but the same style, designed to show off her hips, her bum and her breasts. Breasts? That wasn’t Sada’s style at all, she tended to go in for a degree of subtlety when she dressed. Not that she didn’t look good, hell; the shirt was so tight you could see her nipples jutting through it. A cold shiver ran down his spine. No bra, that definitely wasn’t right for Sada.

“Are you still okay for this afternoon?” Said Brian, carefully looking for reaction. “I’ll be setting out to pick Mark up at three.”

“Oh, I didn’t think that Sada can make it; she’s feeling ill, poor dear,” said Heather, looking straight back at Brian.

“Yes, I’m feeling ill,” said Sada, with the same tone and inflection in her voice as Heather used.

“She’d better rest,” said Heather.

“I’d better rest,” repeated Sada.

“That’s okay, I could do with the lack of company,” said Brian, eyeing the women carefully.

“Oh, you’re so funny,” said Sada, actually sounding like she meant it. This shocked Brian, for three reasons. Firstly, the ‘joke’ wasn’t that funny. Secondly, she had said the exact same thing that Heather had said a few days earlier, right down to the tone of voice. But lastly, and most frighteningly, she had actually said something nice to him and meant it. It was a struggle to not let the shock in his face show through. He knew he had to act decisively.

“I’m off upstairs to get ready,” said Brian, as he virtually sprinted for the door.

Brian spent the next five hours ‘getting ready’, with simply meant doing his best to stay out of the way of the two women downstairs. Something kept nagging at the back of his mind, something about the way they acted, the way they talked, the way they moved. He dismissed these thoughts and went back to ‘getting ready’.

Three o’clock rolled around and Brian made his way down the stairs, and out to the car, parked in the front driveway of the house. He said his good-byes to the two women, who just looked and smiled back at him. He got in the car, and as he was about to start the car, he felt an odd compulsion to look back. At the doorway of the house he saw Sada and Heather, hand in hand watching him. Once again, a shiver traveled the length of his spinal column. He turned the engine over and pulled away.

As he sped down the motorway, he tried to put his thoughts in order. What the hell was going on? First, Heather starts acting screwy, and now Sada has turned into my best friend. What was it? Drugs? No, not unless they’ve invented a new designer drug that turns people’s personalities inside out. He thought back to the scene at the front door. Lesbians? That doesn’t seem...likely. And that would mean Heather is bisexual? Dear God, what was happening at that house?

At the house, Heather slipped off her denim pants, exposing her moist and engorged vagina. She grabbed Sada by the hair and forced her face down into her crotch. Sada gratefully started to lick and caress her. As she did so, Heather penetrated her mind, reliving each and every sexual encounter Sada had had during her life.

“Brian!”

“Mark!” Brian shouted back, waving at Mark, as he made it through customs.

“Where’s Sada?”

“She couldn’t make it.”

“Why?”

“She’s, er, ill.”

“Ill?”

“Yes.” And looking at the expression on Brian’s face, Mark decided to leave it there.

As he drove back to the house, Brian tried to remove any indication of worry from his face. How am I going to break it to Mark, he thought, that I think that his fiancée is either a junkie or gay? It’s not like he’s going to say ‘thanks for sharing that’, is he?

Mark looked over from his seat to see a worried Brian gripping the steering wheel as if was about to fall off. It was strange. He’d never known Brian to remain so quiet for so long. What had happened while he’d been away? He hadn’t had a fight with Sada again, had he? She probably told him that he’d have to move out. Mark permitted himself a smile. Whatever it was, he was sure he could handle it.

“Mark!”

“Sada! God, I’ve missed you,” said Mark, as he walking into the living room. He looked at Sada, from head to toe. She seemed to be dressed very casually for her, but the overall effect was pleasing. She also looked...well, more curvy. Probably, he thought, because I’ve missed her. “I hope you’re feeling better.”

“Oh, much better, now that you’re here.”

“Heather,” said Mark, turning to face her, “how’s it been?”

“Oh, we’ve all got on like a house on fire.”

“What, people screaming and running for safety?”

“No, we all got on well,” said Heather, looking straight through Mark, causing him to stop laughing quickly.

“So no arguments with Brian then?” It occurred to Mark that something was out of kilter here.

“Of course not,” said Heather.

“Of course not,” repeated Sada.

“Okay,” said Mark, glancing over to the silent figure of Brian, who was propped up against the wall. He sniffed the air and caught a musky scent, a very bodily, even sexual smell that seemed to cling to the walls. “Can you smell something?”

“It just a bit of dampness in the walls,” said Heather, smiling.

The evening’s dinner was fraught, to say the least. Not much was said at the table, with Heather and Sada smiling at each other in a strange way. Brian sat at the end of the table, quietly mulling over his peas, whilst Mark look round the table and tried to work out what the hell was happening.

As the evening wore on, they all retired to the living room, where they sat and watched a long, yet extremely boring documentary about dung beetles. One by one, they each made their excuses to depart and return to their rooms. By midnight, only Sada and Mark were the only two left. Mark switched the television off and led Sada back to their room.

“I’ve missed you so much,” said Mark, as they lay in bed together.

“Me too,” replied Sada, “do you want me to show you how much I’ve missed you?”

“Ok,” said Mark, slightly shocked by the forwardness of Sada. No sooner had he said it, than she started pulling off her nightdress. Once off, she threw it across the room, before starting on Mark’s boxers, like a rabid wolverine. “Hey, wow, I guess you missed me a lot.”

“More than you could ever imagine, tiger,” she said with a green gleam in her eyes. Mark tried to move himself across her, so that he was on top, but she grabbed his arms, and deftly turned him onto his back. She smiled a smile that was possibly far too wicked, and said, “no, no, we have to show you who is boss.”

“Oh, we’re the rough one now, are we?”

“You’ll like it rough, baby,” said Sada, as she wrenched the bedclothes off with one hand, so that their naked bodies wore uncovered. She lowered herself onto his penis, and began to grind her groin into his.

“Oh, baby this is so good, I...Sada, when did you shave yourself?”

“While you were away. I don’t know, it just feels so nice and smooth.”

“Mmm...you’re not wrong there,” he said, looking up at Sada. Damn it, she looked so fine now. Her skin was so smooth and cool, she looked so trim, and her breasts were fabulous. He could stay here forever.

“I bet that feels good, lover. I bet you want to stay like this forever.”

“Sure,” said Mark. Suddenly, he heard a creak from the stairs. “Did you hear something?”

“Shhh...don’t worry, just relax and look into my eyes, deep into my eyes.”

“Hmmm?” Said Mark. What did she think she sounded like? Some sort of cut price hypnotist? I really don’t kno...and then he stopped as he looked up at Sada’s face. Her eyes were wide like saucers, with the eyes themselves a brilliant green, and a segmented slit pupil in the center of each.

“That’s it my love, just look deep into them. Float deeper, and deeper and deeper into them, as if nothing else matters. So calm...so relaxed...you can’t scream...you can’t move...you can’t even climax until I say so.” She smiled, and moved herself harder and faster on his member, flooding him with more and more pleasurable sensations than he had even felt before. So much that it hurt him, so much that he thought he would explode, but he couldn’t. All he could do was look up into her eyes as she rocked backwards and forwards.

After a while, the part of his mind that he could still call his own noticed that Sada’s skin color was subtly changing, from her Mediterranean tones to green, darker by a tone or two than the color of her eyes. A light patterning started to become visible along her arms, legs and the sides of her torso, not dissimilar the markings you would find on a snake. She bent forward, and opened a thin-lipped mouth, reveal a pair of fangs and a thin, vipers tongue. He felt her hot breath, inches from his neck, and felt true fear.

“It’s time for you to meet a friend of mine,” said Sada. As she said that, Heather, also snake-like and naked entered the room.

“How is he?” Said Heather, apparently oblivious to Mark.

“Entranced, but not completely gone,” replied Sada, her voice wavering as she started to climax.

“I’ll see about changing that,” Heather said, and looked into Mark’s fearful gaze. “Fall into my eyes,” she suggested, and with that, anything that remained of Mark’s personality or his will gave in. He lay there, moving slightly as Sada continued to rock up and down on his penis. “You want to please me, don’t you?”

“Yes,” said Mark, flatly.

“Good,” and with that Heather climbed up onto him, and placed her vagina over his face. “You can lick me out for a start.”

Heather ground her crotch into his face over and over again. His conditioning was so deep that all he could do was make her climax over and over again. Heather turned herself around so that she could face Sada. She lent over and began to kiss and fondle Sada, groaning as Mark’s tongue entered each and every opening in Heather. The two snake-women continued to satisfy themselves on Mark, using him like nothing more than a sex toy. Eventually, Heather, temporarily sated, got off of Mark’s face.

“That was fun,” said Heather, looking down at Mark’s face, smeared with her juices. “But back to business. Sada?” Sada smiled, and withdrew herself from Mark’s member. She inched back before leaning over and placing her mouth over her fiancée’s penis. The taste of her own juices that remained on Mark’s shaft excited Sada and her clit tingled in anticipation.

“Mark?” Said Heather, looking into the glazed eyes of Mark.

“Mmmm?”

“You may come now,” said Heather, smiling as she watched a faint smile cross Mark’s face. See watched as Sada then bit down into the shaft with her fangs. She watched as the expression on Mark’s face changed; his eyes bulged, and his mouth contorted into a silent scream. She watched and smiled, before diving like a serpent, down into his neck.

Later that night the same bizarre, unearthly sound began to emanate from the hatch to the basement. Once again, it was the sound of voices raised in chanting, but this time louder as if an additional voice had been added.

Brian, strangely for him, woke up early. It was still dark outside, so Brian staggered blindly into the upstairs bathroom, before remembering that the electric lights still worked. After his wash, he started for the kitchen. As he passed Heather’s room, he noticed the door ajar, and her bed empty. He crept down the stairs, as not to wake Mark and Sada, only to find that their room was also empty. He trudged into the kitchen, expecting to see all three of them, only to find that this room was also empty. Great, thought Brian as he turned on the lights, I’m living in the Marie Celeste.

Brian switched the radio on, greeted as he did so by a long and indeterminate guitar solo. He made himself a cup of coffee, and sat back on the working surface. I’m not cut out for this place. It’s too damn weird, he thought. As soon as I can, I’m out of here. The long and indeterminate guitar solo reached its grateful end, as Brian turned on one of the burners full on the gas cooker in an attempt to light his first cigarette of the morning.

“Well, guys and gals,” said the maniacally happy DJ on the kitchen radio, “that was Fleetwood Mac with ‘The Chain’. And now get ready for an all-time great!”

“C’mon, you bloody thing, light!” Said Brian, desperately trying to light the burner.

“There is a house in New Orleans,” proclaimed the radio, “they call the Rising Sun!”

“Brian...” Heather’s voice came from behind him. He wheeled around to see Heather, flanked by Sada and Mark climbing out of the hatch in the floor, all three of them naked. They were all, Brian was shocked to notice, completely devoid of body hair. Apart from the hair on their heads, all three were otherwise smooth to the touch. Each one of them also looked stunningly attractive and sexual arousing, even Mark. This was very wrong.

“There’s nothing wrong,” said Heather, as if reading his mind.

“There’s nothing wrong,” echoed Sada and Mark.

“You can trust us,” said Heather.

“You can trust us,” agreed the other two.

“Just join us,” said Heather, holding out a hand.

“Join us,” said Sada.

“Join us,” said Mark.

“Fuck off!” Said Brian.

“Then you’ll have to be forced to join us,” and with that Heather’s body altered. Instead of a beautiful, albeit naked woman standing in front of him, Brian was confronted by a beautiful, naked, green eyed, green skinned snake-lady. He turned to see the other two changed in a similar way, and in a moment of insight, knew that this would be his fate as well.

“Now, wait a minute,” said Brian, stepping back towards the door.

“No,” said Heather, locking her gaze with his. At that moment, Brian was transfixed. He couldn’t move...he couldn’t even speak. This snake-woman’s gaze had put him into a complete daze. The other two began to advance, but Heather waved them back. “He’s all mine,” she said. Her eyes trapped his; all he could see was her. All his thoughts, worries, dreams, emotions, boiled away like the atmosphere of a planet caught in a supernova. Closer and closer she moved, until she was inches from his neck, rearing back as if to strike and...

Something was breaking through the stupor that was besetting Brian. Something important, something primal, something that burnt through the cobwebs in his mind. It was...

“GAS!” Shouted Brian, the pungent smell of gas emanating from the cooker rousing him from his daze. He pushed Heather away from him and bolted for the door. Half-running, half-stumbling, he ran out of the garden and down the road, never stopping.

“Shall we follow,” said Mark, oblivious to the intense smell of gas all around him.

“No, he is insignificant,” said Heather, starting towards the hatch. “Come, let us return to our Master.”

“That was ‘The Animals’,” said the DJ, talking over the end of the track. He never got to finish that sentence, as one of the lights in the kitchen ignited the gas, and the laws of thermodynamics took over.

The resultant fireball was seen from up to mile away.

“News just in,” said the local television news presenter, “a house on the outskirts of London has exploded due to a gas leak. No-one in the house is thought to have survived the explosion, although one people apparently escape beforehand. The survivor is thought to be a Mr. Brian James. He was taken into Hope Park hospital for observation.”

Some time later, police in the same town were called to a disturbance at an estate agency. When they arrived, they saw Brian an estate agent by the scruff of the neck.

“You knew about that place!” shouted Brian into his face. “You knew it when you sold it to us. You got my friends KILLED!!!”

“Aggh!” said the estate agent.

“Excuse me sir, but could you cease this assault right now,” said one of the police officers.

“Aggh!” said the estate agent.

“You knew!! You MURDERER!!!” shouted Brian.

“Aggh!” said the estate agent.

“You’re under arrest, chummy,” said the second policeman, and proceeded to read Brian his rights.

“Aggh!” said the estate agent, as Brian dropped him. The police walked him outside the office, where upon they went a man dressed in a very severe black business suit. He wore a tie with a very small and tight knot in it. A pair of extremely expensive sunglasses covered his face, which was nondescript. The only distinguishing feature was the short cropped gray hair that covered his head. He turned to the police officers.

“You can leave him to me,” the suit said in a completely accentless voice.

“Okay, no problem,” said one of the policemen, and handed Brian over to the suit. Once the two of them were out of sight, the policeman realized that he had no idea why he had just done that.

“Very good work,” said the suit to Brian, handing him a business card.

“What was?” said Brian, looking at the card only to discover it was blank. “It doesn’t matter, I’m going straight back to that agency, and find out what he knows.”

“There is no need, Brian James,” said the suit, in authoritative terms, “he doesn’t know anything about...the incident. He bought the house at an auction, after the previous owner died. He was an...Egyptologist, if I remember correctly.”

“But what about him telling only to use certain builders,” said Brian, his temper dissipating.

“Hmm...m’heh, m’heh,” laughed the suit. The laugh was very wrong. It was almost as if he’d never heard someone laughing before and only found out about it from textbooks. “The answer to that, Brian James, is that he wanted...to pass on some work to his brother-in-law, mm, heh.”

“Okay, that sound reasonable,” said Brian. It was funny, but when this man explained it, it seemed so reasonable and correct. Brian just accepted what this man said as gospel.

“Once again, let me thank you for your help,” said the suit. “Last time we had this problem with the Settites, we had to fire the whole of this city.

“Settites?”

“Let me express my gratitude,” the suit continued, extending his hand as if to shake on a deal. Brian grasped it, and felt a small electric shock.

“What was that?”

“Let us just say it was a gift from my employer,” said the suit, and removed his sunglasses. Instead of finding the eyes he expected staring back at him, he found himself staring into a pair of sockets, as dark and as deep and as never-ending as the universe itself. He could look into these eyes for ever and ever and...

Brian realized he was standing on his own. The man had disappeared. He looked down at the card in his other hand. It was no longer blank. It said:

BRIAN JAMES

Private Investigations

Specializing in unorthodox cases

Office11a, The Regent Tower,

Covent Garden, London

This man suddenly looks skywards as if expecting to see us. Without seeing, he catches just the merest glimpse of us as we withdraw our mind’s eye from this man, this town, this country, this world. And fade to black.