The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Pendleton! Thirteen!”

She made her way to the marked cubicle, taking a seat in the battered orange plastic chair that was provided for her. She fidgeted nervously as she waited for him to appear.

He looked tired. More than anything else, she decided later, was the sense that he looked extremely tired. His hair was thinning and flecked with silver; his walk was slow, with a hint of a limp. But it was his eyes, sunken and weary, that struck her the most. He looked like an exhausted coal miner emerging from the bowels of the Earth after a double shift. He took his seat, and looked at her.

They both reached for the telephone receiver at the same time. His face broadened into an awkward smile. “Kate? Kate Thomas! It’s really you. It’s really… really you. I don’t even know what to say! Why did you come? I can’t believe you came, no one else has.”

She looked at him, and shook her head. “No one else will.” She placed the receiver back on the hook and signaled the guard. “I’m ready now, sir.”

He nodded, and escorted her from the room.

The guard on the other side of the glass was far less congenial. “Time’s up, Oliver. Back to your cell.”

“Was he there?”

“He was, just like he promised. He knew me. He knew who I was.”

“We figured he would, right? At least now it’s fact. I’m sorry, Kate. I love you. I miss you.”

She looked up from the phone. The people around her were beginning to stir. Scratchy speakers above her head crackled to life. “Now boarding group two, Flight 910 to Freeport, now boarding group two.”

“I gotta go, they’re boarding. See you in a few hours.”

“I love you.”

“Love you too.”

She pushed the water bottle and the copy of New Parent Monthly into her carry-on and joined the crowd.

“Rigby! No! Rigby! Hey, buddy! Noooooo. No. What did I tell you about snacking on my shoes?”

He reached down and, after a brief struggle, retrieved the left sneaker from Rigby’s paws. The right one was still missing and presumed dead. “Why can’t you chew bones, like a normal dog?”

Rigby looked up at the word ‘bones.’ Seeing that James had none to offer, he began his afternoon nap.

“The box of tissues is on your left if you need them, Amy.”

“Thanks, Doctor.” She took a handful at once, using one to wipe the tears from her eyes. The rest fell into her lap. She re-crossed her arms and sank back into the depths of the chair.

“Please, Amy. Call me Disha. After what we have both been through… I think formalities at this point are, well, bullshit.”

Amy laughed, and broke into a coughing fit. She paused to wipe the tears away again.

They both heard the door at the same time, and both reacted the same way, springing to their feet and sprinting into the front entry. Rigby won the brief footrace and the right to kiss Kate first.

She bent down and hugged him. “Ohhhhh, who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy that I missed so so much?”

Behind him, James raised his hand. “Um… me? I hope?”

“Hmm. You’re really not furry enough, but you’ll do in a pinch.”

Their lips met, and their eyes closed as they fell into each others arms.

“Why the hell don’t we come here more often, Kate? This place is ten times better than Franklin’s. No creepers, no crazy old man stalkers, no college kids… I mean, nobody’s here, so it’s probably gonna go out of business in six months, but still.”

Kate looked around the room. They were in yet another back booth, away from everyone else. “We should do this every Saturday,” she agreed. “I was getting tired of Franklin’s.”

Claire lifted her coffee mug. “Girl. I was literally getting tired of Franklin’s! I don’t know what happened to their coffee, but that place was putting me to sleep. People think they can cut corners and no one notices. Sorry, but it’s a matter of public health. Bad coffee means I murder people. End of story.”

Kate grinned. “Should I even ask where the bodies are buried?”

“Not unless you want to help bury the next one.”

“Sorry. I’m more of an indoor girl.”

Claire yawned loudly. “Coffee, work your magic,” she said, waving her hand over her mug. “So. How’s the memory thing going?”

“It’s going.” Kate reached for her own mug. She’d swapped out the black coffee for a nice cappuccino, something that Frankin’s had never been able to make to her satisfaction. “Little by little, just like Doctor Kapoor promised. I try not to remember the bad stuff.”

“Girl, with you the bad stuff is practically everything!”

“Not true! I have you, I have James, I have the last few months, I have, I mean, there were some good things that happened. That’s what keeps me going. Like I said, that’s the Kate I want to remember. The rest of her can rot in hell.”

“Well cheers, then! Cheers to the new… Jesus goddamn Christ, you got a turkey sandwich here, too? What is wrong with you? Don’t make me climb over this table and erase your memory all over again. Kate, who is she? Oh, well the one thing she absolutely hates is turkey sandwiches.”

Kate took an extra big bite and savored it. “Mmmm mmmmph,” she mumbled, tiny bits of bread and turkey spilling from the corner of her mouth. “Bemmmmst turkmmmmey sandwich ever.”

“You are the grossest woman in history. Congratulations.”

“Okay, okay.” Kate brushed the crumbs from her shirt. “How’s your memory doing? Have you been to the therapist yet?”

“I have, and I still remember nothing. And I’m happy about that.” The blonde dug into her salad. “Everything about that day is still a blur. Getting kidnapped, getting held hostage at your house… I mean, who wants to remember that shit? That guy’s dead, that’s all I care about. And the jerk doctor who fucked with you is going to jail. I’m just glad that it’s all over.”

“Almost over,” said Kate. “Claire. Three, two, one. Sleep for me.”

The blonde’s eyes fluttered and slid closed. The fork fell from her fingers and clattered to the floor.

“I’m sorry for all of this, Claire. I really am. I’m sorry I got you sucked into it.” She fought the urge to snap her fingers right away, to wake Claire up as if nothing had ever happened. There was still work to be done. “This is our last deprogramming session, I hope. Listen to my voice, and obey me completely.”

“Of course, Kate.”

She took a deep breath. “Okay. Remember what we talked about last week. You are a strong, smart, independent, beautiful woman. From now on, you will always be confident and brave. You will love who you want to love, do whatever you want to do, live wherever you want to live. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Kate.”

“You are not a brainwashed slavegirl. You’re a strong, independent woman.”

“Brainwasssshhed. I’m… not?”

Kate kicked herself. This had been the hardest thing to deprogram out of Claire’s mind. Somewhere, deep down inside that beautiful head, the blonde harbored a genuine desire to be utterly controlled by someone else. She really was a perfect slavegirl, and Kate shuddered at the thought of what Decker and Mulroney would have put her through if they’d gotten their hands on her. Or what I could do to her, right here and now. But Decker was dead. Old Kate was dead. She was getting out of the mind control business for good.

“You are a free, strong, independent woman,” she said firmly. “That is what you believe.”

“I am a free, strong, independent woman,” Claire whispered. “That is what I believe.”

“Repeat your instructions about the day that we were held at gunpoint.”

“I will remember nothing important about that day. It will always be a blur to me. I will trust you when you tell me things about it. I will always trust you without question.”

Kate took another deep breath, and let it out slowly. Her friend looked so pretty in her frilly pink top, eyes lightly closed, deep in trance. I like hypnotizing pretty girls. Inwardly, she groaned. That same stupid voice again. The blonde wasn’t the only one with stubborn post-hypnotic suggestions buried inside her head. “Claire, you can’t lie to me. You will tell me the truth. Do you want to remember anything about that day?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head ever so slightly. “Don’t want to.”

“Why?”

“I want to focus on Steve, on my future. It’s not… s’not important to me. What happened.”

“Then you’ll continue to remember nothing about it, until you are ready to remember. Then you will ask me about it, and I will tell you—honestly—what happened. I promise.”

“Yes, Kate. You will tell me.”

When I snap my fingers, you will wake up, feeling refreshed and happy. You will never, ever go into trance for me again. You will never let anyone hypnotize you again, unless you absolutely, positively want to be hypnotized.”

“Not unless… I want to. Be hypnotized.”

“Oh, and the next time you are at the liquor store, you will have an irresistible urge to buy me a very nice bottle of wine.”

“Nice bottle of… wine.”

Stephenson’s Quality Country Bourbon, my ass. “There’s one more thing you need to remember, Claire. It is the most important thing in the world. You will remember it with every fiber of your being…”

He was in the kitchen when she returned, standing guard over an enormous pot. “Almost ready, hun. Wine’s in the fridge, as always.”

“Enjoy getting your wife drunk while you still can, bucko.”

“Oh, I will,” he grinned, kissing the top of her head. “Now sit and get nice and liquored up while the roast does its thing.”

“Tonight’s supposed to be my night for cooking,” she offered.

“Yeah, but you were busy with Claire, and I was bored. How is Claire, anyway? Steve won’t shut up about her, so the sex must be really good right now.”

“Pervert. She’s fine. She’s better than fine, actually. She’s going to be okay.”

He peered into the pot and stirred. “We’re all going to be okay. You and me and baby James.”

“Baby Alice.”

“We’ll see.”

She settled onto her usual stool, wine glass in hand. “Okay, time for tonight’s lesson, James my husband. Tell me about the time we went to Canada.”

He turned off the burner. “As my mistress commands.”

“Was it cold? Did I ride a moose? Did we make love in a little cabin under the stars?”

“All three,” he grinned. “Well, two out of three. But that’s all part of the story.”

“Next on Action Four, the trial begins for a Freeport doctor accused of—“

She shut off the television and slipped out of her robe, enjoying the feel of the cool air against her skin. Turning the fan up another notch, she slipped out of her underwear and beneath the smooth silk sheets of her bed, relaxing as her head sank into the pillows. Fordvale account needs a new cost analysis… Betty is supposed to bring her client around on Tuesday… I’d better book a lunch reservation… wait, wait, Tina. That can wait. Work can wait. Get some sleep.

She took a deep breath and stared at the ceiling. Getting a good night’s sleep was getting harder and harder to do these days. Too many weird dreams and nightmares to count. She pictured her handsome knight and her spacious bedchamber, and let her eyes close. Her hand slid towards her chest, but came to rest on her stomach as she drifted off to sleep.

The heat wave stretched into the fifth day, and everyone in Georgia was sweltering under hot, humid, cloudless skies. It was the kind of weather that glued clothing to skin and turned suits into walking ovens, but a party was a party, and everyone pretended to make the best of it. Everyone, that is, except for the stunning young blonde in the tan dress, who swept past everyone as if the heat and the humidity didn’t exist at all.

To her, it didn’t.

A young man in a sharp white suit, perhaps emboldened by an afternoon’s worth of whiskey sours, made her acquaintance, and she graciously entertained him for a few minutes. She was Charlene, just up from Savannah, where she was studying art history. Of course he could have her phone number. And of course they could dance, out in the garden under the stars, once the day cooled off into night and the band switched to something a little more energetic. She made sure to squeeze his hand and blow him a kiss as she took her leave.

She drifted up the main staircase to the second floor, but instead of turning right for the ladies room, she took a hard left and dived into the bowels of the old mansion. She slipped a pilfered key into the third door from the end, and slowly opened the door.

A man and a woman sat in chairs, facing an ornate writing desk. Their glazed eyes saw only the spiral propped in front of them. They were still repeating the orders that they’d been given an hour before. Their drugged glasses of wine sat half-empty on the desk.

“I’m madly in love with David,” said the pretty brunette. “I want to fuck him so badly. He’s the only man for me. I’m madly in love with David…”

“…she’s most beautiful woman I’ve ever met,” said the tall, pale-haired man. “I want to fuck her so badly. She’s got an incredible body. I’m madly in love with Lucy. She’s the most beautiful woman…”

The blonde nodded, and switched off the spiral. She picked up the apparatus and tucked it into her handbag. “You’re both going to count backwards from fifty, and then you will do as you were told. Remember nothing. Go.”

“Fifty,” said Lucy.

“Forty nine,” whispered David.

The blonde slipped out of the bedroom and let the door close behind her. She made sure to leave it unlocked this time.

Beau, the young man in the white suit, eagerly waved to her as she strolled into the ballroom. His friends patted him on the back and shoved him forward, laughing as they did so. She flashed him a winning smile and held up a finger. One second. She made her way to a tall woman lounging just inside the verandah doors, tall drink in hand.

“Charlene! Dear, are you having a good time? Did you ever manage to track down my husband?”

“I saw him headed upstairs, Mrs. Waltham,” she said. “I didn’t think to follow him. Are you sure that he wants to hire me? He hasn’t been very talkative to me, is all.”

“Oh, now don’t pay him no mind. David’s not the most sociable man in town. But he needs a pair of eyes that knows what kind of art they’re looking at, and you’re that pair of eyes for sure. I’d better go upstairs and haul him back down here. Why should I do all of the socializing while he sneaks away? You just sit tight, Charlene, and I’ll make sure you get a proper introduction.”

The tall woman placed her hurricane glass on a side table and headed for the stairs. As she left, the blonde intercepted Beau and kissed him on the lips. She wrapped her arms around him and took in the scent of his cologne, feeling his erection press against her. She whispered sweetly into his ear. “Let’s go back to your hotel right now, baby.”

He smiled, and kissed her. He was a good kisser, and she let her eyes close as his warm lips met hers again and again.

Tina opened her eyes, and sat up in bed.

Wow, what a weird dream…