The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

She stood at the curb, feeling alone in a big city that seemed like it should have been more crowded than it was this late in the morning. Her roll-on suitcase, handle extended, was practically keeping her upright as she waited patiently for the light to change. There was no reason to wait, really. The streets had been all the same, all the way from the U-Bahn station, each of them cold and dark and empty of both cars and people. But crossing against the light simply wasn’t done in Berlin, and she’d long since trained herself to obey traffic laws she would have happily flaunted back home.

The little green Ampelmannchen finally made his appearance. She charged forward, her roll-on bumping and bouncing behind her. She was nearly across when her coat pocket began to buzz. I should ignore it, she thought, even as her hand instinctively reached inside.

“Yes?”

“Where are you this time?” Gruff. Annoyed. A bit rude. Typical Stuart.

“I’m on holiday, Stuart. That’s all that matters.” She passed something vaguely familiar while she talked and trudged; curious, she turned to get a better look at it. “No, it can wait. How long? Two weeks, that’s how long.”

It was a sign that had caught her eye. Someone had recently given it a fresh coat of enamel paint, enough to give it a faint gleam even on a dull morning like this. “Club Trabant,” it read. Her brain dutifully supplied the relevant memories, mostly of hazy nights spent drinking too much German beer and dancing under heavy, sweaty beats. Maybe she’d go in tonight, if she wasn’t too tired, if the beds weren’t too comfy…

“Stuart, I’m almost at my destination.” It felt good, saying that, even if it did not have the desired effect of making Stuart hang up. He wanted to talk about the charity project, and he’d been damn persistent about it. The details of it filled the remainder of her journey up the street.

“Sure, I can do that.” She nodded at her phone. “In two weeks.”

She shifted her weight onto her left leg, the boot at the bottom of it crunching through the thin layer of ice that seemed to have coated everything in Berlin this morning. She took a half-second to confirm that she wasn’t about to spill back onto the sidewalk before moving her bag, her purse, and her phone to her left side as well. Her boots crunched again.

“Because I’m not…” she paused, too focused on what she was doing in the here and now to pay close attention to what was happening back in London. Her ear pressed against her shoulder, the phone neatly sandwiched between them. “… no, because I’m turning off my phone until I get back.” She leaned forward, gloved hand reaching for a door that memory told her was rather hard to pry open. “Yes, I heard you. Five hundred quid is not a lot of money, but it’s press. And the children will love it, won’t they?”

Stuart, a thousand kilometers away and very much not on holiday, reluctantly conceded this point. The heavy entrance door conceded as well, opening with far less effort than she recalled, and granted her access to the courtyard beyond.

“I’ll be back in a fortnight, love,” she chirped, eager to get on with things. Just being this close to her fabulous destination made the sun shine a bit brighter, her heart a little warmer, her feet ever more sturdy in spite of the ice and slush. “And not a moment before then! We’ll catch up with a few drinks at Kona Kai when I get back. Cheers!”

And with that, she stepped through the door, and into her well-earned vacation.

Five minutes and eighteen seconds later, Lucy Severn was back at work.

Her phone was supposed to be off, but that was a stupid white lie that Lucy told herself every time she left her flat. Of course she had her phone on. Of course she was going to blog her way through Berlin. Who didn’t, these days? She scrolled through a parade of fresh photos, skipping past the icy-covered streetscapes that were supposed to make up the bulk of her next Instagram post, in favor of something she found a thousand times more exciting. Her fingers and thumbs danced across her phone, a broad smile on her face. She could barely contain her glee.

“Hee!”

The post uploaded in seconds, and she lingered on it, admiring both the post and the good fortune it represented. “ELEVATOR!!!!! Things are looking up, literally! :—) :—)”

It was a cute post, and she couldn’t resist adding a bit more to it. She released her roll-on and framed up one more centered shot of the antique contraption. It looked more like an oversized dumbwaiter than an undersized elevator, but it worked, and that was the point. Even as she clicked away, it shuddered and hauled itself up to the third floor with a loud whirr.

She added the new photo to her post. The original, less than a minute old, had nearly a hundred views. A hundred views for a picture of an elevator. Such was the power and reach of Lucy Severn.

Things are looking up for me, too!, she thought, as she retrieved her roll-on and found the hostel’s front door.

“Hello?”

The hostel’s lobby was uncharacteristically empty. No chatty friends, no lost tourists, no staff. No bags, aside from her own, which she presently placed on the floor next to the reception desk. She scanned the desk for a buzzer or a bell. Finding none, she began to let out a well practiced sigh, then caught herself. This was not the time or place for that. This was only a minor setback. In a couple of minutes she’d have her key and would be-

“Lucy!”

The voice filled the room, and probably a great deal beyond that. Its owner was hidden by a stack of wool blankets that rose above her eyes, but the figure deftly maneuvered around chairs and Lucy’s luggage before depositing its load on top of the reception desk. Papers and pens, now displaced, slid backwards and fell to the floor.

“Well! What a tremendous surprise! Such a pleasure to have you back again, Lucy!”

Unlike the stubborn front door and the broken elevator, Alice her name is Alice, right? It’s Alice, I’m sure of it was everything like Lucy remembered. Jolly, pretty, full of energy, two glacial blue eyes forever twinkling, a voice as Irish as Guinness and a caring attitude that bordered on matronly. Comfy beds aside, the host was the best part of the hostel, one that Lucy never spoke of in any of her many posts. Alice was a little secret that those who followed Lucy’s advice would have to discover on their own.

“Thanks.” Lucy didn’t know what to say. What was there to say? The flight was too long, too early, she was exhausted, could she just have a bed, please, and have at it?

“I do love people who are direct and get to the point,” said Alice, and Lucy realized that she must have spoken all of her thoughts out loud without meaning to do so. When was she in the habit of just sleepwalking through conversations?

Exposed, and more than a bit embarrassed, she shrugged off her purse and let it fall from her shoulder onto a plush velvet chair. She stared at it, eyes blinking, trying to recall… no, this was a new chair. A quick glance around the lobby revealed other improvements; someone had finally given the place a much-needed makeover. She wondered if Alice had gotten herself a boyfriend, or a girlfriend, or was trying to impress someone into becoming one. Someone who lacked any sense of ostalgie and the oppressively ugly old furniture that came with it.

She glanced up. Alice was patiently waiting for her to continue. Alice was great like that. Always listening, always ready to offer a kind word. Alice was wonderful, just like her hostel.

“My flight got in early this morning,” she admitted, peeling off her coat and letting it fall on top of her purse. She settled into a second plush chair and let herself sink into it, fighting the urge to kick off her boots and have a nap right there and then. “To be honest, Alice, I feel like I’ve been in constant motion for months. There’s always something to do or to plan to do, and so I got it into my head that I’d come drop by and get a few nights in one of those comfy beds of yours.”

“Clearly! You’ve mentioned them twice now. They are quite comfortable, I’ll give you that.”

“Oh! It’s all I’ve thought about since leaving Gatwick. I almost wish I could tuck it under my arm and fly back to London with it!”

They both laughed at that.

“And you’re not here with friends, dearie? You seem so popular online… I must admit that even I check in on you now and then!”

Lucy shook her head. Portugal, Paris, New York… those were places where a person went on holiday with there besties, places where sleeping was optional, where a second vacation to rest up was needed upon arriving home from the first. Berlin, on the other hand… “I keep telling Christine that I’ll show her around Germany, but when I come here I really want to be alone with my own thoughts. It’s so nice not having to worry about anything for a bit, isn’t it?”

“I’ll suppose I’ll find out when I’m retired, Lucy. There’s nothing but worries in this business! Always something new to do! You’ll be pleased to know that the window company’s been by already. I’ll have all of the rooms fitted out by the end of summer. No more chilly rooms! And until then…” She gave the pile of blankets a healthy pat. “These should suffice.”

“Oh! And the elevator!” Lucy gripped the sides of her chair, as if to convince herself that it was real. “Did you have that repaired, too? I saw it was working… and these chairs! You’re really sprucing the old place up. Going upscale?”

“In this economy?” Alice’s laugh echoed through the lobby. “Heavens no, dearie! I can’t imagine the girls here are ready to pay premium prices. Now having said that, I have been doing quite well lately. I fancied a few updates here and there, and I’ve got the money to pay for them. So glad that you noticed!”

“Well, I hope things continue to get better.” Things are looking up, literally! “I can’t wait to see what you’ve done with the guest rooms!”

“Well then, let’s find you one!” Alice scampered behind the desk for a minute before emerging with a single sheet of paper.

“My assistant tells me that I’m like an old maid, wiring everything down and keeping nothing on the computer, but if you ask me, sometimes the old ways are the best. No putting you on hold whilst I click through a dozen login screens and passwords! Ah! Now let’s what we’ve got for tonight. How long will you be staying?”

For the first time since walking in off the street, something seemed a bit off that wasn’t an improvement. “Two weeks, Alice. And I assumed there’d be a double,” she said, her brow furrowing. “Just like last time. Two beds… I’ll pay for both, of course.” Her heart sank as she contemplated the options. “Do you have any singles? I’m really not up for staying in a dorm this week.”

“Never you worry, dearie! We’ll have it all sorted out in a moment. In the meantime, try the chairs! They’ve just come in. Straight from France.”

Lucy did as she was told, placing her purse in one thick velvet chair and sinking herself into its companion. She smoothed out her skirt and crossed her legs. The lobby was chilly. She wondered if new doors were also on Alice’s to-do list.

“Looking at the guest list… no, no, no… not until tomorrow… no… ah ha! Now I’ve a double that’s currently occupied. Two Italians, lovely girls from Naples, very agreeable if you ask me. I’ll shift them to the dormitories and free up their double for you. You don’t mind waiting for a bit?”

Lucy leaned forward, teetering in her chair, balanced between jumping to her feet and falling backwards in exasperation. “Oh no, Alice,” she said, “please, don’t move anyone on my behalf!” She could feel her skin turning red. Was she really that famous, now? Famous enough that people just assumed that they needed to give her special treatment? Wanted to give her special treatment, in exchange for an extra-kind word on her blog that might being in business? Was Alice really that shallow?

“You can’t just turn two people out of their room without warning,” she added. “Not for me. Not for anyone, really! That seems an awful thing to do.”

Alice smiled. Her blue eyes found Lucy’s and held their attention, like a snake sizing up a meal. In her chair, Lucy suddenly felt very small. An ancient reptilian urge clawed at her brainstem. Get up. Run. Now.

She ignored it. Running was ludicrous. The sensible thing to do was to politely decline Alice’s ‘offer’ and counter with a sincere promise to return in a few nights when things were less busy. Expensive chain hotels were no longer outside of Lucy’s budget, even if their beds felt like park benches by comparison. She took advantage of Alice’s awkward pause to plan her next words carefully. “I can tell you’re overbooked, Alice, and that’s wonderful, but I simply can’t—”

“Oh, they’ll do exactly what I ask them to do, dearie! After all, good girls always do what they are told.

“Good… I…” She was tumbling backwards, away from Alice, into the depths of the chair. She expected to land with a thud against the chair back, but instead she kept moving back and back without end. Her body sagged, as if Alice had shot her with a tranquilizer gun, leaving her limp and helpless.

A meal.

“Lucy, you will listen carefully to me and only to me. It’s time to return to your place, dearie. Fully aware, and fully obedient. Can you do that for me, dearie?”

Her body found the back of the chair. Thump. Everything now seemed to flow in reverse. Instead of sinking, she was rising, arms and legs and back straightening out until her posture was perfect. A perfect slave. “Yes, Alice,” she said.

“Good. Chairs are for guests, but you’re not a guest, are you? Tell me what you really are, dearie.”

The answer appeared in Lucy’s mind before she even thought to begin searching for it. “I am your slave. I am your servant. I am yours and yours alone. To do as you see fit. To do as I am told. Good girls always do what they are told.”

“Then stand up.”

She did as she was told.

“You’re not nearly as famous as you fancy yourself, Lucy, but you are very pretty, and that’s really all that my customers care about. Have you been doing your exercises, as I asked?”

“Yes.” A parade of faces and other body parts slid through her dulled mind. “I’ve given thirty-eight blow jobs since my last stay here,” she said, without pride or shame. “I’ve been told that my technique is improving.”

“Wonderful! I do love it when a girl takes it upon herself to undertake some self-improvement. No resting on your laurels, dearie! You’ll never get ahead that way.”

“No, Alice.”

“Then it’s settled. Valeria will be out tonight, and when she gets back, she’ll remember having a different room number. You’ll be staying with Giulia, who I dare say might be more popular as you! I may send you out as a pair before your stay is up. Does that sound lovely to you?”

It didn’t sound like anything at all. The words dissolved as soon they touched Lucy’s ears. “Yes, Alice,” she droned. “It sounds lovely to me.”

“I thought you’d say that! Now, grab your purse and come with me. I’ve got an important meeting down at the club in a bit, and I’ll need you to be there as well. Amanda will take care of your arrangements while you’re out.”

Lucy nodded, though she didn’t understand anything beyond grab your purse and come with me, but she wasn’t worried about that. Alice would tell her what to do. Alice told everyone what to do, because Alice was wonderful like that.

She picked up her purse and slipped it over her arm, then waited patiently for her next set of orders.