The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Corruption Games

(By S.B.)

20 — Observing People

Before she received Melvin’s call to undo the freeze trigger she had unceremoniously placed on Simms’ mind, Alexandra sat at the airport trying to keep her wits together by doing one thing she loved: observing people. It was surprising how much knowing eyes could glean from simple mannerisms, the type of clothes they were wearing, or even their choice of luggage colors. In a crowded environment like that one that was always a bustling hodgepodge of cultures, there were always interesting stories to tell for anyone who bothered to look for them.

She had first picked up the skill during her stage hypnotism days at The Red Rose, for the subtle clues in the audience allowed her to see which person was more likely to give her the show she was after. The ones that were easily played and followed instructions to the letter with little effort always made the best impressions, encouraging the rest to tip her more when the show was over and maybe try out their luck next time. It was always fun and the fun always followed her from the stage to the dressing room. Those were definitely simpler days.

As she held a fashion magazine she had found next to her seat and that she did not intend to read, Alexandra first focused her attention on the group of three people to her right. First, there was a Japanese businessman with an impeccable gray suit and a matching tie whose features were partially obscured by a cloud of scented smoke. Then, there was a typical rebellious teenager with dyed blonde hair and heavily pierced ears that looked like they weighed a ton. Her attire was colorful and full of strategically placed tears and holes that showed off plenty of skin while still coming off as completely inoffensive to the most conservative souls around. Finally, there was a suburban housewife who was packing light to go see her lover. The way she held her phone close to her bountiful chest and gigglingly replied to the barrage of incoming texts suggested it was her first affair and the newfound danger of potentially being caught made everything worthwhile again. Alexandra could sympathize with her, but she hoped she wasn’t being roped by someone unscrupulous.

After the early assessments were made, she turned to her right to look at the other four people sitting there. There were two couples, one of two cheerful women in their early twenties who seemed to be in the early stages of planning their future wedding and the other comprising a wealthy man with both hands covered in gold rings and a redhead half his age also adorned in extravagant jewelry but with a fake smile tainting her otherwise flawless porcelain skin. The bracelets around her wrists were expensive enough to feed a small African village, but what hid beneath them was far more terrifying. The signs of past bruises were still visible and one reddish mark on the left wrist couldn’t have been made more than an hour prior. Alexandra was immediately on high alert, looking for more clear signs of abuse, and she found plenty to spare.

The young woman’s make-up choices were far from random. The thick black mascara helped disguise a swollen right eye and then there was the impression on her lower right lip most likely made by an untimely slap. Right below the skirt of her floral dress, Alexandra could also notice some uncharacteristic impact marks that had already begun to heal, and if she decided to dig deeper, she was sure to find even more.

“So, that’s the kind of asshole you are, huh?” she thought, momentarily shifting her gaze to the man with his luxurious dark-blue jacket, varnished shoes so shiny they could be used as a mirror and a cowboy belt with a buckle so big one could be easily tempted to think he was compensating for something else. It was obvious he hadn’t been born into money but had earned it somehow, either through an investment that had inexplicably panned out, or thanks to a lucky night at Vegas. Alexandra was betting on the latter, for that would explain his companion as well. Plenty of showgirls were dragged into toxic relationships following a couple of nights of easy spending and unbridled passion but while getting in one didn’t take long, leaving often proved to be an insurmountable challenge that only led to their constant belittling for months and years to come. “Not on my watch,” she concluded.

Alexandra continued to watch the odd couple as inconspicuously as possible, occasionally flipping a page or two of the magazine to maintain her cover. The man had one hand on his lap and the other somewhere on her back. At one moment she flinched slightly as if he had pinched her or touched a yet unseen injured spot. He then touched the outer rim of the buckle belt and she flinched again. What was not coming out of his lips yet could be heard as clear as day was something like, “Don’t you dare make a scene or you’ll be sorry, do you understand?”

The redhead beauty nodded, and he continued his strange exploratory trek between her ribs, tapping the floor impatiently as he did so. Boarding should be happening soon, but first, he needed a drink. He got up from his seat in silence motioning her to stay put with a single flick of his golden left hand and navigated a brightly lit passageway until he reached a wine bar that served all alcoholic temptations he needed and more. He sat at the aged wood counter and ordered a glass of red Zinfandel. As he was about ready to drink it, the hypnotic secret agent took the seat to his right and placed both hands on his glass, asking,

“Are you sure you should be drinking before a long flight? Some people get nauseous, you know?”

“I’m sorry, do we know each other?” he retorted disdainfully, despite stopping for a moment to admire her flowing auburn hair.

“No. Not yet, at least.”

“Then, it’s hardly your business what I drink or don’t drink and for the record, I never get nauseous on a plane.”

“Hmm... and how about when you beat your companion silly? No nausea there either? Not even a hint of remorse, even if it’s a fabricated one?”

“Excuse me?”

“No, I don’t think I will,” Alexandra removed her hands from the glass and pushed it away to the surprise of the tall, muscular man behind the counter. “There’s something about the likes of you that I simply despise and I’m not having a particularly good day, so before you return to your seat, we’re going to have a proper conversation.”

“And why the hell would I do that?” he muttered under his breath to avoid making a spectacle himself.

“Because I just said that’s what’s going to happen and I’m not like the poor girl you’re currently mistreating at all. I don’t sit, I don’t roll over, and I don’t play dead, but I’ve made quite a few men do that on command and I’ll do the same to you if you don’t behave, are we clear?”

“I have no idea who you think you are, but you’re out of your goddamned mind if you think I’ll just keep quiet and let you insult me like that.”

“Since we haven’t been formally introduced yet, allow me. My name is Alexandra Ryder and I’m only going to say this once, so I advise you to close your mouth for a moment and listen. Reality differs from what goes on inside that twisted brain of yours. Women are not punching bags for you to use whenever you’re throwing a tantrum and they’re certainly not disposable trash either. While most love a good cock, they don’t exist in service of one, and they don’t need it to be content with who they are. You’re not special no matter how much money you have, and you have no right to aggrandize yourself at a woman’s expense. Remember that biologically speaking, none of you would be here without us so instead of going around believing yourself all mighty and powerful just because you slapped and kicked a woman, you should be grateful we exist and show us the proper reverence, starting with your companion because she is and will always be superior to you.”

“Oh, wow!” the man scoffed. “And you were worried about me drinking just now? You’re one completely delusional bitch, aren’t you?”

“No, but you’ll be wishing I were in no time.”

“Well, whatever...” he finally got hold of his drink, emptied the glass in one gulp, and happily parted with a one-hundred-dollar bill (no change required!) before leaving the bar and rushing to the bathroom before the boarding call. Alexandra watched him run off, indifferent to the myriad of confused eyes that was convinced about the veracity of his innuendos and then dashed after him.

It wasn’t the first time she had invaded a public men’s bathroom with a license to mesmerize, but she wasn’t interested in making it a habit. She waltzed him right behind him and kindly asked the other individuals standing inside to leave because of a matter of national security. Once they were the only two people left, she locked the door and leaned against it, saying,

“That wasn’t very polite of you, but I didn’t expect anything else, really!”

“You’re one persistent cunt!” he gnarled, zipper down as a stream of yellow piss decorated the inside wall of a rectangular sensor-operated urinal. “Why are you still stalking me?”

“I told you I’m having a rough day and you’re my chance to blow some steam, I guess. You really should you have kept your hands to yourself instead of a woman’s body.”

“Okay,” he zipped his pants. “I tried to be nice, but if you want a rodeo, bitch, I’ll give you one you’ll never forget.”

“Nothing but empty promises...”

He swung at her like a raging boxer, counting on his brute strength to get the job done quickly and be over with it. Alexandra yawned and easily sidestepped the first punch, the second, and the third. Before he could go for the fourth, she hit the bridge of his nose with an open palm and asked,

“Do you really want to have your ego crushed like this?”

“I want you to shut the fuck up! What’s wrong with you?”

“Bring it then.”

Momentarily switching tactics, he tried to hit her with a right hook, but Alexandra bitch-slapped him hard. Another attempt came flying from the right side, yet it was as predictable as everything that came before it. She bitch-slapped him again and sent him flying against a sink that automatically started running. Not allowing him to catch his breath, Alexandra marched toward him and crushed his balls with one heel followed by the other. He clenched his teeth while pangs of unspeakable pain coursed through his body.

“Fuck!”

“Are you ready to listen now?”

“I’m ready to kick your...”

“Wrong answer!” Alexandra dug the right heel a little deeper, piercing his pants until it pushed against the ball sac, an inch away from drawing blood. One final bitch-slap and his head spun, cold water falling on his forehead. She grabbed him by the hair and buried his nose under the stream.

“Please no more,” he begged.

“What did you say?”

“Stop, okay? I’ll listen to whatever you have to say.”

“I know you will. You lot always do when your weapons are turned against you. The question is, did you listen when she told you to stop, or did you continue to hurt her until she was cowering in a corner of your room like an animal caught in a trap? Fear does terrible things to good people and turns them into mere shadows of their true selves. Do you want to live in fear all the time? You don’t, right? In that case, consider this a kindness you don’t really deserve.”

Alexandra twisted his right arm behind his back and pressed his chin against the edge of the sink. Then, she reduced the flow of running water to a few droplets per minute, creating a steady rhythm his eyes could easily follow while she spoke,

“Remember what I said about getting men to sit, roll over and play dead? That’s because I’m a lot more than you can chew. I’m a hypnotist and getting inside people’s heads to make them think what I want is my bread and butter. Now, you may have heard a few things about hypnosis in the past, including how it’s impossible to put someone under without their consent or make them act in ways they don’t wish to, and while that’s mostly true, there’s always an extra push, a way to turn coercion into something desirable. If you know which buttons to press, you can plant just the right ideas to make someone eat from your hand like a little puppy and then create a self-reinforcing loop on top of it. Suddenly, your own mind is fueling your descent into submission, and you just go deeper and deeper into a trance before you even realize when your mind was first altered.

“Another fascinating thing about hypnosis is that anything can be a trigger. You see, to produce an altered mind that leads to an inevitable drop into the realm of the subconscious, you can take something ordinary, create a focal point, and then tie one’s perception to it. That’s why you see pendulums and pocket watches being so effective. Your eyes fixate on the motion, and your brain follows it automatically. Right now, the cadence is before your eyes in the form of these drops and you tell precisely how long it takes for the water to drip from the faucet and splatter into the sink. It’s as easy as counting 1, 2, 3... plop... 1, 2, 3... plop, 1, 2, 3, plop... 1, 2, 3... plop... the constancy is undeniable, the pattern followed without question. There’s not much difference between water that falls and a declining mind and, in your case, they really are one and the thing. A drop is a thought and a thought that drops doesn’t go back up again but keeps on sinking, sinking, sinking... 1, 2, 3, and another image goes away from your mind... 3, 2, 1... and you drift yet again, a little further this time for counting upwards and downwards also means the same thing when the cadence is already stuck within you. And so you listen, and you accept that you’re entranced by the mere suggestion of being entranced because your mind has already dropped for me. One drop leads to another, and the fall becomes a permanent reality. You’re always dropping... you’re always listening and you’re always obeying. You do all three at the same time, blissfully charged by your surprising lack of resistance. It’s all about the... plop... your mushy brain spread across the floor, wiped clean, and powerless to say no. Yes is what you want... yes is what you need... yes is what you’ll give me as you drop to the very bottom of your ability to think and focus... down... down... sleep! Sleep and dream of the water that keeps falling inside your mind, the rhythm that binds you to the lesson you will undoubtedly learn. I don’t have the time to teach you them all, but we can start with the easiest one:

“To mistreat a woman is wrong. To use and abuse her goes against the very core of the world. You should live for your partner instead of forcing her to live for you and any apology you think you deserve when she does something that displeases you means absolutely nothing if you’re surrendering fully to her. You will do this for me. When you leave this bathroom and take your seat next to her to board the plane, you’ll be a hundred times more thoughtful and attentive than whatever standards you created for her. Your world will be what her will determines and, during the flight, this feeling of ecstatic devotion will simply grow. The higher the plane goes the more obedient you’ll become toward her and when it finally goes back down, the heightened feelings will have already become ingrained in you. I’ll give her your new trigger, and tell her how to make the best use of it and you’ll love the turning of the tables as much as you once loved to believe you deserve to be in charge. This will surely happen because you never stopped dropping under my control and you never will. This pattern is unending, the cycle will not break. 1, 2, 3... plop... 1, 2, 3... plop... Deeper.”

Alexandra smiled as his vacant eyes fluttered and he nodded in perfect acceptance of his new role. There was nothing like a bit of hypnotic justice to get her in a good mood again and when Melvin finally reached her, telling her the potentially good news, she was ready for whatever was to come next.

Washington was waiting and then she would make Accardi pay for everything he had done to corrupt her world. That was a promise.

((to be continued))