The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

At a café outside the San Finzione Marketplace, there sat a Yia-Yia. Young people going on their first dates in the Marketplace would tell each other to “meet me by the Yia-Yia,” and their parents and grandparents would look at each other and fondly remember meeting up near the old woman who’d always been there drinking her vino and watching them grow up around her.

Not much had reached her from the world outside her fields of vision and hearing in the past week. There’d been talk of an important paper to be signed and important visitors, but people were always visiting this country, and all of them thought they were important.

And she reasoned that someone important must be in town today because the sidewalks were filled with people. Even with her diminishing hearing, she picked up the sounds of a parade headed her direction. That explained all the people. It must be a special day for Good Count Vincenzo. The youngster always seems to appreciate a good parade.

And with everyone seeming to be out for it today, she had the occasional visitor. John Travolta came by earlier, as he sometimes did. She liked him. He was always quite respectful. He’d said something about mourning the loss of a beloved customer. She had no idea how the movie star business worked and wasn’t aware that actors even had customers. The poor man always seemed to have the sniffles when he stopped by. She hoped he was ok.

He wasn’t the only famous person to visit her table now and then. There was Tessa, of course. Tessa was a girl who stopped by once in a while. She was pretty enough to be in movies, and people would sometimes come up and ask her to sign things or take a picture with her, so the Yia-Yia knew Tessa was someone important. She wondered if she knew the Count.

The people around her began cheering, and the Yia-Yia heard the sound of a brass band approaching. They were playing the national anthem. Not the old one, with all the unkind remarks about the Swiss, the one Vincenzo had chosen to write in English, so she never understood it. It sounded nice.

She saw the marching band pass, followed by giant floats made by the People of San Finzione. From where she sat, she couldn’t make out what they said or what the people on them were celebrating. People were always celebrating something in this country. She imagined it was why she saw so many tourists pass her spot each day.

The Yia-Yia saw a long vehicle pass through her window in the crowd. When the passenger door came into view, the convertible vehicle came to a stop. Soldiers went to the door and opened it. More made a path through the crowd, and the Yia-Yia saw someone get out of the limo. She couldn’t make out who they were from this distance. Whoever got out of the car started walking her way.

Flashes of light enveloped the person as they approached. It wasn’t until she’d reached the table that the Yia-Yia was finally able to recognize Tessa. Where was the person who was coming before the flashes started? Could it have been Tessa that got out of the fancy car?

Tessa said a few words to the Yia-Yia. Her Greek had always been adequate for an American, but it was loud with all the cheering. Something about always being happy to see her and hoping she would always see the Yia-Yia in this place. Then Tessa hugged her and walked toward the car and the flashes started again. When the Yia-Yia, could see, the car was moving, and the people’s attention was back to the street. She thought that was good. Mustn’t keep the Count waiting. His car was probably coming soon.

The Yia-Yia thought about getting up to see if she could get a better look at the parade when a waiter came and refilled her glass.

Yeah, why change a good thing now?

Contessa Helena de San Finzione got back into her limousine. She adjusted Lord Byroni and Lord Vincenzo II’s little hats and sunglasses before telling Scappa to start moving again.

“That was nice of you.” Julie Equals, sitting across from them, told her as the parade started again. She looked at the People of San Finzione on either side of the street, holding signs and waving banners. The signs she could read in the four official languages of San Finzione were mostly kind things for La Contessa’s birthday. A good number were not.

The last time Julie had taken a ride like this through the streets of San Finzione had been the time Helen was stabbed and Julie, Troy, and Susan came from the other side of the world to be with her. That night, the streets had also been thronged with people holding signs for La Contessa. Because Helen had been fighting for her life in surgery at the time, those signs had been of a much kinder nature. That kindness of the People of San Finzione was still conveyed in the well-wishes for La Contessa and the Royal Twins.

“I’m seeing a lot more signs in Swahili than I did before.” Julie commented. “Hope those are all good things.”

“They are.” Helen assured her. “And there’ll be more soon. Yesterday’s treaty will see to that.”

She waved at President Balozi Faraji, up ahead on a float built by San Finzione’s Uongoian community. He would be coming to the party later. He simply wouldn’t be told that the people who’d robbed him were also on the guest list. He’d accepted Helen’s assurances that the criminals had been caught and were facing justice for their crimes. That the man was so forgiving made Helen regret what she’d done during their first meeting more. She knew that feeling would fade, but it would always remain in the background.

It was at that moment Helen’s eyes lit on one of the posters in the crowd. The ones carried by the people she’d told Julie about in the Tool Room. It was one she’d seen since the first year she’d had to sit through this parade alone. Someone always hung onto it. It was a mugshot from her criminal days that was the most commonly found one online. The picture was framed in the style of an old west wanted poster of her. The crimes listed were things like “being a yanqui harlot” and “corrupting traditional San Finzionean values.”

And there, at the bottom, in the largest print, was the one she knew would be there: Murder for Fucking Our Beloved Count To Death. Below it was a link to the long defunct website lacontessaèunassassinasessuale dot snfnz. Helen had since bought the domain name, and it now linked to the Ministry of Intelligence’s public job listings page.

But it came at the wrong moment. A moment when Helen had been thinking of a bad thing that she knew she’d done. Julie saw the look on Helen’s face and the sad thought forming in her eyes. She made a facial expression in response. Helen knew that face well enough to read it. “This’d be a good time to take out your phone and look at that thing.”

Helen did so. She saw a photograph that she’d taken after Troy & Julie’s first visit to San Finzione. A visit that began with the two of them using their honeymoon to get even with Helen for her prank on Julie the night before their wedding. Helen and Julie hadn’t talked for years after their fight in Madrid, and Helen was afraid that Julie would pity her again the way she sometimes did when they were children if she knew how badly Helen had taken Vincenzo’s loss. She spent most of that time playing it off as callousness, allowing Julie to believe that she’d sexed Vincenzo to death to get his crown. Troy saw right through it and went along with Julie’s prank to bring Helen out of the shell she’d put around herself since taking the throne. It wasn’t until their last night in town that the three of them had finally talked and ended up in bed together. By then, their revenge prank was already in motion.

While Helen had La Policia watching the two of them, a couple of friends who’d come along on their honeymoon took turns putting on wigs of Julie’s distinctive hair and walking around town on Troy’s arm while Julie slipped away and set everything up and Susan coordinated on the computer back in Federal Way. As Troy & Julie returned home in San Finzione One and Helen raced to the airport in her helicopter to say goodbye, she saw what they’d done. Helen brought up the picture.

It was an aerial photograph of St. Francis de Sales Park, the city’s largest. During the week before the photo had been taken, Julie had met with people who’d answered the personal ads Susan had placed and convinced them to meet at the park that day. Blankets and towels had been laid out on the grass, and the words “FUCK YOU HELEN,” visible from the air, were spelled out in fornicating bodies. The sadness faded as she remembered snapping that picture. Because the park was a no-fly zone, Troy’s picture snapped as they passed it on takeoff and the one that Helen had on her phone and was now in a frame on her desk in the Study were the only ones. Maria and Stavro were in that group somewhere, but she’d never bothered to ask them about it. Helen looked back up at Julie.

“Thanks.” Helen said to the first woman she ever loved. “I need to remember that people care about making sure my life’s not miserable more often.”

“Yes, you do.” Julie agreed.

They rode in silence for a while until the parade rounded a corner. That was when Helen saw the same photo on a giant sign being carried in the crowd. Helen looked at who was holding it and saw Susan. Susan saw Helen noticing her and grinned, waving.

“Yeah,” Julie commented. “Sent myself a copy while I had your phone. Think I wasn’t gonna get you back for the Juliessa Skankeko thing? Happy birthday, you fucking cunt.”

Helen leaned forward and hugged Julie. Helen had a number of issues, however, the inability to appreciate a good zing was not one of them.

“I love you, you skanky cow.” Helen told her in response. She returned to waving to The People as the parade continued. The smile on her face a bit more genuine.

Helen sat with her sons in the nursery. She needed to get ready for the party and there was one more matter to take care of first. The kids needed a nap. She hadn’t gotten to spend much time with them in the past few days, so everyone decided to change for the evening and let her put them down by herself.

The excitement of the parade had wound up the boys, but Helen had gotten them to lay down in the crib they would outgrow and need upgrading to real beds soon. The two stopped fussing when they realized Mommy was talking and began listening to their favorite bedtime story.

“When we last left off.” She started telling them in Italian. “The Half-Dragon Girl had defeated the dragon for devouring the maiden who’d been her mommy. But she was not alone. The Kind Old Wizard and the Boy who’d taught her the secret to defeating the dragon; a secret that your parents will teach you one day, but your grandniece is next on the list, agreed to let her live with them in the wizard’s tower. She was very happy there, and they were happy to have her living there. You know how the wizard wanted to adopt the Half-Dragon Girl, but the dragon wouldn’t allow it? Not because of any love for her, but because he thought she was part of his hoard and belonged to him? Well, now that the dragon was gone, it seemed there was nothing to stop them from making that dream come true.”

Vincenzo yawned. Helen didn’t take it personally because that was her goal. Byroni saw his brother stop squirming and did the same.

“Do you remember the magistrates? The ones who always sent the Half-Dragon Girl back to the dragon’s lair every time she escaped? They decided that the wizard was very old and already taking care of the boy, and that taking on a daughter would be too much for him. The boy and the Half-Dragon Girl tried to explain to the magistrates that she had learned to raise herself living with the dragon and the maiden, and everything she knew about being a regular girl had to be taught to her by the other girl’s mother, but they would not listen. The boy insisted that she not use the magic he’d taught her for facing the dragon on them and she loved him very much, so she didn’t. The magistrates tried to send her to join other families, but none were as good as the one she had with the boy and the wizard. So, she would often use the magic to escape those families and stay with them anyway.

“The Dragon never taught the Half-Dragon Girl anything except how to be a dragon, and she didn’t want that. The kind old wizard taught the girl most other things. And he always had patience with the girl when she would exhibit the habits of a dragon and steal shiny things to start her own hoard. She never took from the people she loved, though. That meant the wizard, the boy, the artist girl next door, and her parents were safe from her dragon ways. But, in the Half-Dragon Girl’s mind, everyone else had sided with the magistrates. So, she thought it was ok to take from them.” Helen paused. “Stealing’s wrong. I guess it’s my job as your mommy to tell you that. Your daddy will but tell him I said it too. He won’t believe it.”

Somewhere, a clock struck five. Still enough time for the boys to rest and get ready. Everyone was already gathered at the castle. Maria was playing her job as hostess, since it was La Contessa’s birthday, and all she should have to worry about is her dress and her entrance. Helen’s friends would understand if she took a bit. Some of her advice to Maria had been “La Contessa is always on time. Everyone else is too late or too early.”

“Ooh, and, of course, the Half-Dragon Girl spent a lot of time with the artist girl. She was right next door, so her best friend was never far away. Their love was just as important to the Half-Dragon Girl as her love of the boy and staying near her was just as important. The weird part is that the boy never seemed to notice that the two of them loved each other the same way he and the Half-Dragon Girl did. You know how the other parents wouldn’t let their children play with the Girl? Well, the boy and the also girl kind of got some of that by association. They had other friends, too. But the three of them were most important to each other. The boy didn’t really get to know a lot of other girls well besides those two. So, it’s not like they were doing anything behind his back. More like he was too uncurious to question their relationship. He figured that was just how girl best friends did things together.” Helen thought some more on how to explain it to them. “Look, the thing between Mommy and Daddy and Also Mommy has always been a little complex and should probably be its own story. Just know that it’s wonderful and we’re all happy to have Other Mommy be a part of it, and all of us love you.”

Helen saw that the story had worked, and the boys were asleep. She crept out of the room and retrieved her cigarette case from the basket that had been placed outside the Nursery door just for it. Tracy Baker, Julie Equals, and Susan Bailey sat talking on a couch outside the room. The Ultimados guarding Tracy stood to attention as their Contessa entered the hallway. She nodded to them, and they relaxed. The other women stood, and the group walked toward La Contessa’s chambers.

“How long will they be watching us?” Tracy asked Helen.

“Until I think I can trust you.” Helen answered.

“Get to know them.” Julie suggested. “Ultimados are some cool people.”

Helen looked over at what Tracy was wearing.

“I understand you weren’t planning to attend anything like this while you were here.”

“Well, the gents with the guns weren’t keen on letting me go shop, so no, I’ve got nothing for your party.”

“We’re roughly the same size.” Helen pointed out. “I’m sure I’ve got something for you.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose.” Tracy didn’t want to impose.

“Helena has a woman whom she pays to dress up as her.” Julie pointed out. “She has two of everything for short girls.”

Helen stopped walking and looked at Julie.

“I am at the LOW end of AVERAGE height!” She insisted.

Susan turned to Tracy.

“There’s some new vocabulary for you to learn.” She advised. “Julie is at the high end of average height; Helen is at the low end. And that means that however you described yourself before, you are now, too.”

Helen joined their conversation.

“That’s right. And if Julie doesn’t let me forget it, you don’t get to either.”

They went to get dressed for the party.

Friends and guests gathered in the Grand Ballroom, awaiting La Contessa’s entrance.

Denise Cole had arrived from Seattle with her parents and her girlfriend from school. Helen first became aware of Troy & Julie’s teenage friend after the assassination attempt that caused Troy, Julie, and Susan to hurry across the world to be with her. Julie then told Helen the story of how the two of them met, and Helen’s thank you for Denise’s watching their house so they could come be with her was to shower Denise with gifts which included an invitation to visit San Finzione at any time. When she found out Julie could get her in to La Contessa’s 30th birthday party, she decided to accept.

“It is wonderful to finally meet you and your family, Denise.” Lady Maria Louisa Francesca de San Finzione said to them. “Great-Grandmama has said good things about you. I understand that you are planning to visit our Marketplace tomorrow. Take along the green tablet in your gift bag and display it prominently when you visit merchants. This will tell them that you are a friend of La Contessa’s and will save you time if you do not know haggling. She would also want me to make certain you know this very important Italian phrase: ‘Invia la fattura al Castillo.’ It means ‘send the bill to the Castle.’”

A pool table had been brought in from the Billiard Room, and Oscar Dodge, Nigel Mander and The Swede, stood around it, having a round and talking of capers past. At a table next to the dance floor, Fabrizio Silvestri and Franz Hauber shared a drink over Fabrizio’s new loss of business.

Generalissimo Hernando Ramirez sat with his wife, Violeta, and Supervisor Luc Allaine at a table with President Balozi Faraji a distance from the others. The Generalissimo’s children, Luis and Marta, stood at the sundae bar with Julie Equals, who had determined that the Royal Twins were old enough to try ice cream and were all feeding the babies. Alice Mei sat with Jeanne Carpentier and Dr. Miguel Rocco, San Finzione’s Minster of Science. The two of them were eager to hear Alice’s thoughts on advancements in robotics.

Troy Equals sat with Morris Sinclair and Gordon Walker. Walker assured Troy that he didn’t need to apologize on behalf of his wife for the beating Gordon had received. Stavro Poldouris, Lady Maria’s boyfriend, sat with them because he didn’t speak English, so he tended to latch onto Troy when he attended formal gatherings at the castle. At the next table, Susan was introducing Spencer Malone to Carlito Cortez, the head of the Ministry of Intelligence’s Electronic Intelligence division, where Spencer would start working tomorrow. Tracy was talking to Brenda Sullivan and her cousin Colleen Sullivan about the things the three of them had done with La Contessa.

The lights dimmed. A fog machine kicked on and filled the balcony. A cloud came roiling down the Grand Staircase. On the edge of the dance floor, Lawyers, Guns, & Money; San Finzione’s most successful Warren Zevon cover band, began playing Warren’s version of “A Certain Girl.” The music covered the sound of the carbon dioxide charge hissing at the top of the stairs. A giant inflatable slide that had been borrowed from San Finzione One for the evening flopped out of the cloud, down the Grand Staircase, and onto the dance floor. Pyrotechnics deployed and pinwheels of fire spun at the top of the stairs through the fog.

Troy broke away from the conversation and approached the bottom of the slide. Once he was in place, Helen slid out of the fog in her Vera Wang ensemble and down the staircase into his arms. He spun her around to the dance floor, and they began the first dance of the evening. Since Nunzio was a guest at the party, other pages ran forth and dropped air mattresses at the bottom. Julie and Susan picked up the twins and led the Ramirez children up the stairs so they could try the slide. Troy led Helen out of their way as others took the dance floor.

“Happy birthday, Petalouda.” Troy said to her. Helen’s response was to kiss him.

They looked to the corner of the floor where Baker’s Half-Dozen had congregated. Since Gordon couldn’t get up and dance yet, the others were remaining by him. Their Ultimado guard was dressed in civilian clothes for the evening and watched from nearby.

“You’re not going to be able to keep them at the palace forever, you know.” He advised her. “And the Ultimados have better things to do than keep guarding them.”

“I said they were sentenced to life.” Helen pointed out. “I didn’t say it was life in prison. They’re rich now, they can afford places in the city. We’ll call it secret house arrest.”

Troy spun Helen around and dipped her.

“Three hundred-million hours is over thirty-four thousand years.” Troy told her, knowing she probably didn’t want the total number right now. “I don’t think Dr. Rocco and Jeanne are that far along on their robotics project.” He raised her back to her feet. “How are they going to serve that?”

Helen looked over at them again. Oscar was leading Tracy the same way Troy was leading her.

“I have some ideas.”

Another day dawned in San Finzione. The people went about their day. Serving tourists, making wine, making movies, and overseeing the international business empires of Società Finzione and SanFinTech. The government’s corporation kept the business of the country running, and La Contessa kept it all together somehow.

On the porch of a house on the lower side of La Collina, Oscar watched his grandchildren play in the sprinkler. Violeta Ramirez stood nearby talking to his daughter-in-law. She’d brought her own children over, and they joined in the fun in the yard. His son emerged from the house with four bottles of beer. The Generalissimo’s wife took one, and he handed one to his own wife before offering the third to his father, who accepted. Oscar took a drink and watched the kids try to outrun the water.

“It took you thirty-two years, dad.” His son told Oscar, opening his own bottle. “But you did it. You’ve brought the family to San Finzione for a vacation.”

“My line of work didn’t give me a lot of time for vacations.” He pointed out. “Or enough time with my family.”

“And you’re not doing that anymore?” His son asked pointedly.

“No, no.” Oscar assured his son. “I’ve found something better here.”

He set his beer down on the patio table next to his phone, which started playing Jimmy Buffett’s “Pencil Thin Mustache.” Oscar picked up the phone and looked at the incoming text.

“Since when do you carry a phone around?” His son asked.

“Since I got this new job. And it looks like the studio needs me.” He stepped over to the Generalissimo’s wife. “I’m sorry, Violeta, I’m going to have to go to work.”

“I understand.” She told him. “My husband has to run whenever La Contessa calls as well.”

He nodded, called goodbye to the grandkids, and got into his car. Oscar waved to the Swede across the street and backed out of the driveway. He drove a few houses down Strada Della Casa to collect Tracy, who was waiting for him, before going to work.

At San Finzione’s Ministry of Science, Alice Mei’s phone played Tennessee Ernie Ford’s original version of “Sixteen Tons.” She looked at the text, then back to the experiment she was running. Three more hours on it. Alice called someone to take over monitoring, then went to get changed. When she emerged from the Ministry of Science, Franz was waiting for her at the wheel of a Lamborghini Aventador.

“Is it yours?” She asked, getting in the passenger seat.

“Since when has that mattered, Liebchen?”

“I guess it doesn’t.”

Spencer sat at his desk in the Ministry of Intelligence’s Electronic Intelligence division. He was arranging for a shipment of guns to be lost in transit to San Finzione when the message popped up on his screen. He told Carlito Cortez, head of the division, that he had another call, and went to meet Morris and Gordon, who worked in other parts of the building, so they could ride together.

“How’s the training going?” He asked the two men as they got into his van.

“Told the new students to try to take me all at once.” Gordon told him. “They’ll get better.”

“Mine are doing well with locks.” Morris added. “Couple need help with their pickpocketing.”

The three vehicles made their separate ways through the streets of San Finzione to the lot of San Finzione Studios. All were waved past the gate. They convened outside a small set away from all of the others. The red light above the door indicating that it was a live set was on, as it always seemed to be. A sign next to the door said that filming was going on for a production that nobody on the lot seemed to be attached to, but all agreed would probably never see the light of day: “Blacula vs the Blerewolf.”

They walked through the old film cameras and costumes stored on the set to emerge in the center, where a war room with a table similar to the one inside the War Room of Castle Finzione had been set up. None of them had been in the actual War Room, but the man who’d been waiting for them all to arrive had. If he’d wanted to, he could have told them that they got the rest of the room wrong on purpose for national security reasons. He stood with his back to the others, taking a phone call, while they all got coffee and took their seats.

“Have you found work yet?” Alice asked Tracy.

“I’ll tell you what I found: forty-two million in my bank account after our last job.” Tracy informed her. “You know Susan’s career of doing Whatever the Hell She Wants Because Troy Set Her Up for Life? I’m thinking of giving it a try myself.”

“I waste ’em with my crossbow!” Spencer said, taking the seat next to the head of the table. A couple of the others laughed. Oscar sat on the other side from him.

Mander finished his phone call and turned to the group, approaching the head of the table.

“Sorry, had to take that.” He told them. “Now, then. Welcome to the real Mander Force. You all already know our biggest secret: That there are four people in the world with the power to control minds. Luckily, I know ’em, they’re cool people, and they’re not making me say that.”

Everyone agreed. Mander sat at the head.

“I thought La Contessa would be joining us.” Tracy commented.

“Some days, Her Countessness is free to do things like hunt Nazis and catch you guys. Others, like today, she’s got budget meetings with the Generalissimo to take care of. That’s when she’ll call all of you. Now, to business.”

They all raised their cups and toasted to business. Mander let them, then pressed a button on the table. A 3-D holographic image of a man’s head appeared above the table and began rotating so all could get a good look.

“This is our first target.” Mander briefed the others. “Simon Kiburi, former dictator of Uongo. And a rotten tosser if ever there was one. He’s been living large in a resort in Macao off the gold he stole from Uongo’s treasury. At least he’s been smart enough not to stay in a Società Finzione place.”

The image above the table changed to Kiburi relaxing in a swimming pool. A child tried to enter the pool. Kiburi angrily splashed her until the girl gave up. A holographic floorplan of the resort appeared next to him.

“Guy’s got a weird thing about swimming pools; they say he wishes he’d been born a fish. While he’s been doing nothing more than blowing the gold and chasing everyone else out of the pool, he’s hovered on Her Countessness’ To-Do List. But now the gold’s running low, so he’s looking to break into the heroin trade. He’ll need a bundle to buy in, and there’s only one way he’s gonna raise it: Hand what remaining stolen treasures he took from Uongo to the Auctioneers and put them on the block. When that happens, they’ll be a lot harder to recover, so Her Countessness figures he’s become a priority. And she’s got plenty of those, so that’s why we’re here.”

Mander rose to his feet and towered over the table with his hands behind his back.

“Her Countessness says it’ll count for a million hours of community service if you just bankrupt Kiburi, three million if you can get the treasures back. As for me? Having your own cartoon’s nice, but my reward is the chance to get some proper crime in and work with a bunch of professionals. So, Tracy. Got any ideas?”

She looked up at Mander and smiled.

“A few, actually.”