The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The next morning, Shannon reported for duty, and she and Summer escorted Anya back to the airport.

“So you never even had a green card? You’re still technically an asylum-seeker from the Soviet Union?” Summer asked.

“Better to stay out of the eagle’s eye. The eagle is insecure about power like yours and mine. The bear embraces it so long as they gain something from it. There is crime, there is punishment, but the Society is better than being listed like a criminal simply for being born.” Anya shook her head. “Peter told you too much too soon. Some should have waited until I was gone.”

“Anya, the secret is out. What else is there? I’m tired of secrets and lies,” Summer said furiously.

“When I go, what’s mine is yours. The other reason I never became American. The eagle has very sharp eyes for money, but the bear doesn’t know where to find taxes. What’s mine is mine. It’s enough that I fly privately and have the best food flown in from all corners of the world. I have never married. I gave birth five times by five sires, but never married. What good is marriage if he is but a slave, destined to die in the oil fields and coal mines that you own as much as you own him? And if he is not such a slave, then always there is the fear of the knife in the back. If you knew how much exactly, the eagle may catch word of it. When I go, you must join the Society. The path is clear, but you need to make a doll and show them your worth. The reward is better than any college scholarship.”

“Got it... and got it.” A smile broke across Summer’s face. “Still have to find her, but you solved everything.”

“Hijacking doesn’t count,” Anya warned.

“But overthrowing a controller does. I did some research on the Rasputin Society,” Summer said, holding up the flash drive.

“My Olga has grown. I will likely never see you again. My time is that short. But this is better. I get to see my work and not die in shame of who I was, and what I did to you, and who you are, Olga,” Anya said.

“I like Summer better, actually. Dad told me how I was named,” Summer said.

“Her most beautiful vision then... as you are mine now. Go with God, Olechka Petrovna,” Anya said with a smile, rolling off the ramp of the van. Two empty-eyed attendants, one male and one female, awaited her to escort her to the long-distance private plane.

“So was the all-nighter just to say goodbye to Grandma?” Shannon asked with a hint of a pout as they returned the handivan and retrieved Summer’s Chevy.

“Not by a longshot. I got the list of every registered mind controller in the United States and their registered thralls. Not counting alumni, there are ten names among the controllers that I recognize. As for their thralls, do these numbers sound right? Twenty cheer, ten dance, a hundred athletes?”

“I have to say yes, but the number is 142. We have a lot of football players. But in a school of three thousand, we can find enough people for you to start a rumble with,” Shannon said with an evil chuckle.

“If I wanted you to say yes all the time, I’d hack your brain that way,” Summer said.

“I kid because I care. So do you, right?” Shannon said as they hit the highway.

Summer smiled, but the expression was fleeting. Her face turned pensive again as they drove on. “So if it’s most of the teachers, and they run the machine, I don’t dare touch the school for further recruits. Besides, most of the place is so afraid of them and their creations that they’re almost as locked into the system,” she mused.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Shannon grumbled.

Summer looked at her sharply. “It was more than perfume, wasn’t it, Shan?” she asked, pulling her glasses down just in case a straight answer wasn’t forthcoming.

“Not to me, but this has gone on longer than you’ve been here. My sisters both told me the same thing. I thought I’d be safe if I was one of them. I knew I wouldn’t be if I wasn’t. That’s why I ran when they said no,” Shannon said, her darkest secret extracted on command as emotionlessly as if she had ordered lunch.

“Okay, but stay on the road!” Summer commanded as the distraction veered them onto the shoulder—fortunately not near danger.

Shannon blinked and shook herself a little more awake. “I—whoa. Um. Please don’t do that when I’m driving, if that’s okay with you?” she asked.

Summer made a mental note of that, both the request and the way Shannon phrased it. Then she put that worry aside and picked up the more pressing one. “We have two months before the state cheer championships. Gotta move before then, or they’ll reestablish themselves as the queen bees again. So it’s gonna be crazy. I need someone to help herd the cats as I bring them in. Are you ready?”

“’What is thy bidding, my Master?’” Shannon answered.

“That you never, ever quote Star Wars at me again.”

Once they reached their base in Summer’s room, Summer pulled out a tablet, inserted the thumb drive, and showed it to Shannon. “Here’s the list of people in Glassville who appear on the list. Mind the green on green over there—I don’t think it’s supposed to be visible.”

“Ms. Harper... should have figured that out with her Madeleine obsession. Mr. Stewart, which explains why Mrs. Stewart is teaching home ec with a law degree from Harvard. Jordan, Grant, Baldwin, and of course Vice-Principal Hubert—you need a few to operate a machine this big, don’t you?” Shannon said, all but bored as she wrote the names down.

“That’s not where we should be looking, is it? I can tell you know something. You were last cut—what do you know? Did you fight it off and you made up the prank story to hide the truth? It’d be ironic, even if it wasn’t natural,” Summer said, ready to apply the death glare if needed.

“My mom was a cheerleader. That’s why her idea of higher education is how to look hot for males, bake cookies, and make children. Thank God I took after Dad more than I did her. Can you search by, say, what college people went to?” Shannon asked, never looking away from the pad.

“Think so... okay, here we go. Oh, shit. That’s creepy. Almost every college I know comes up,” Summer said, concerned.

“You know how those numbers on the side work. Is 1 the worst, or 6?” Shannon asked. “Here, sync me in,” she added, handing Summer her tablet.

“High score wins, so narrow it down to 5 and 6. Thankfully, many are small, except for Northern State, and yeeeeeeah,” Summer explained. For a moment she felt like she was getting a grip on the situation. Then she saw Shannon freeze up, and not from Summer’s eyes. “Shan?”

“Worse than I thought,” Shannon said through barely parted lips. She tapped the screen a couple of more times to sort the data, then flipped it around to show Summer.

Summer scrolled through the filters Shannon had put on the data, and what she had cross-referenced from the yearbook files. “Ted Baker, St. Joseph’s, Northern State, Atlantic Coast... bozhe moi, Anya was right. Not a one went somewhere that wasn’t at least Class 5, and that’s just the ones who went to college. And that’s going back to 1986?! Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.”

“I told you I took after my dad,” Shannon said with a nervous smile. “He’s a computer nerd, and always was. His only crime was not asking why the red hot secretary couldn’t keep her hands off him. But that’s just it. The whole town’s in on it. It’s why we worship boys in helmets and girls in skirts on Fridays instead of Jesus and saints on Sundays. This is big. When your aunt said army, she meant army, not just herding cats. We need a base, we need a place to report, and you need to throw away those glasses before our next gym class.”

“No. Not that way. They’re all linked, at least team by team. I think I have a way, but we have only a month. Yearbook will likely get the info faster. Now, who’s been here since ’86?”

“Mr. McCaffrey, the wood shop teacher and actual facts lunatic,” Shannon said, rolling her eyes.

“He might be less crazy than we thought, but he’s not on the list. Who else?”

“Llewellyn... no, that’s Mr. Llewellyn, the, ah, computer science teacher. He died when my mom was at the JV school. Some crazy kid shot him,” Shannon explained.

“Maybe less crazy than we thought. Any relation to Principal Llewellyn?”

“She’s his sister. Got here 1990, promoted to principal 2001, so she’s not the one we should be worried about either. She might have the authority, but comp sci went on without him. And she was an English teacher before she went into administration. Buuuuut...” Shannon trailed off, showing Summer the screen.

“Miss Llewellyn, thirty years old, born and raised in Glassville, studied abroad in Tokyo before coming home to make good, insisted on coaching cheer, teaching one advanced comp sci course that everyone knows is comps for jocks. That’s the real boss. Okay, it’s time to hit the mall and go prowling. I’m hungry, and I don’t mean for Cajun food made by Chinese,” Summer said with a smile, trading her glasses for a pair of shades and grabbing her phone.

“Anything I can do for that?” Shannon asked with a smirk.

Summer’s smile faded. “I need people. We already discussed this. We’ve got to keep it outside the school if possible, and definitely outside the cool cliques. We’ll be a motley crew of sorts, the ones with ruined lives, the hated rivals, the people who are just pissed at the world. Who are the five people you trust the most and most want to be a part of this? Just remember that boys tend to be more... vicious... when made... clingy,” she said as delicately as she could.

“Yes, but I still want Ron on the team if you’re going that way,” Shannon insisted.

“I kinda figured that. You already told me you were going out with him before I got my eyes on you,” Summer said with a hint of a smile. “Here are my five. Come up with yours while we go out.“

“I got this,” Shannon said, and she followed Summer out the door, lost in thought.

“It’ll hurt just a little, and then everything will be fine,” Summer said soothingly as she locked eyes with heavy-set but extremely cute Dana. Dana squirmed slightly, trying to look away, before letting out a long slow exhalation, as if granted release.

Summer looked her over and asked, “Do you trust me, Dana?”

Glazed and confused, Dana looked back at her and said, “Yeah,” sounding like her spacecraft had landed light-years away.

“That’s everyone, right? You got yourself a nice clique, so don’t waste it. No one wants to see Dana’s thighs in a cheer skirt,” Ron said, with Shannon hanging on his arm. Shannon scratched him—just a little, just lightly, enough to let him know that he was out of line.

Dana shrugged. The gibe had awakened her enough to comment, “So I’ll stick to pants. But I can think of plenty of people who want to see these in a cheer top.” She bounced her breasts a couple of times with pride before joining the line with high fives.

They all turned to Summer like flowers following the sun, waiting for their next move. The power was intoxicating; here were ten people she’d known most of her life, all of them her friends or at least close acquaintances, turned into her minions, unable to refuse her. She understood the temptation that so many controllers had to take and indulge and think of nothing more than the pleasures of the flesh, but that wasn’t the woman Anya had trained her to be. There was a job to be done, and she and her people were ready to do it. As a group, they headed over to a store in the back of the mall that specialized in skater and punk gear.

“Striped knee-highs are in the back. So’s the Blu-Ray box set of the first six Thigh High films. Classicists like the ’60s version, but everyone knows Thigh High 6 with Britney as the first victim is the best,” the woman behind the counter snarked, barely looking up from her music magazine.

“So... Evelyn... what do you think you know about me?” Summer asked.

“That you can read my name tag. You’re not the first would-be queen bee that comes in here to deck out their court. Most go that way. It lets them stand out, and they get a thrill out of making prissy girly-girls dye their hair green. If you need that, I can get you bulk rate at Hair Apparent,” Evelyn said with a smile.

“I’m not your average high school vampire. Not everyone gets a black card from their aunt,” Summer said smugly. The more she thought about it, the more having the store as a base for her older people made sense.

Evelyn’s reaction was not what Summer had expected. “I hate needles, been there and done the cell phone apps... oh, man, vampire? Vampire!” she said, her voice trailing off as she happily lost herself in Summer’s eyes.

“...I think I killed her,” Summer murmured as Evelyn sat there, drooling, motionless.

“Well, if she wanted it that bad, she’s gonna end up like a cheerleader—ow, Shaaaan!” Ron said.

“Get our stuff and look normal enough to be manager. I need this store,” Summer said to Evelyn in a harsh tone that reminded her of Anya.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“And don’t call me Mistress. My name is Summer.”

“Yes, Summer,” Evelyn said. Efficiently, crisply, she guided everyone to the wardrobe they wanted. Summer waited outside the changing room to make out with each member of the crew as they exited to cement the bond.

Except for one. Shannon came by, holding Ron’s hand, and Summer stopped her. “Evelyn, close up,” she ordered, and the gate crashed down so fast that Summer was nervous. “Shannon, you love Ron, yes?”

“Yes,” Shannon droned.

“Ron, do you love Shannon?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then prove it in front of me and the rest of my people,” Summer demanded. She turned out the lights for extra cover, and everyone retreated to the stockroom behind her. To make it clear what was going to happen, and to make it clear how it was going to happen, she threw a condom to Ron.

“You mean... here?” Ron said with a gulp. “Of course you do, you’re the boss, but, uh...” He trailed off, and Summer had to smile at the performance anxiety of an eighteen-year-old boy about to get his first taste of sex.

“Oh, don’t tell me you finished before I even got a chance to get revved up,” Shannon said with a pout as she threw off her shirt.

“Make it good, and good for her, Ron. You’ve spent a year setting up for this,” Summer said, coaxing him to relax.

It worked. He slid his hand down the back of Shannon’s shorts as she melted into him, easing them down her legs. Their pants fell down together as they sank to the floor in a frenzy of passion. He kissed Shannon with desperate hunger, and she answered him just as intensely, her fingers wrapping around his cock tenderly.

But she hesitated and looked over at Summer, silently begging for permission. Summer nodded, and felt the power trip ignite her panties as she did so. Both of them needed each other, but they needed her just as much, and that was enough to make her moan. Nine people were begging to help her, and she knew that with a single word, a single gesture, she could make them do things to her that she had only ever read about.

More than that: she felt the power like reins in her hands when Shannon and Ron looked at her and waited for permission to go on to the next, hotter, act. She made them take it slow, made Shannon take Ron’s cock into her mouth inch by patient inch, made her work her mouth along the length slowly and gracefully, made Shannon draw out Ron’s climax until he could do nothing but come in Shannon’s mouth. Then she directed Shannon to do it all again, until Ron was close to the edge, so that he would be ready to give Shannon the fuck she deserved.

Through all of it, Summer’s hand worked beneath the seam of her panties, finding the wet heat there and teasing more of it out. “Just like that!” she gasped to Ron as he thrust one more time against Shannon’s pussy.

Shannon moaned, then screamed, “OH GOD FUCKING YES FINALLY!” as her legs wrapped tightly around Ron. But her eyes were fixed on Summer, and that was enough to bring Summer to climax as well.

When the happy couple finished coming, Evelyn was ready with fresh outfits and towels for them. As soon as she raised the gate, the rest of the group ran out and headed for the bathrooms.

“One last thing,” Evelyn said to Summer.

Summer looked up—and saw a stranger, a woman in her early forties in a black leather vest and pants, with tattoo sleeves on each arm, tapping her foot and glaring down at Summer.

“Oh, hi! I’m Summer. I’m here to buy the place,” Summer said coolly. The release from her voyeuristic fling with Ron and Shannon translated itself into pure icy confidence as she gave the stranger a freezing stare that would make Anya proud. Within seconds she had herself a biker bodyguard, a distribution center, a source of income, and a safe haven.

It took a good twenty minutes for the woman to speak again, and three prompts for her to remember her name. But Summer was no longer fazed by the effects of her power; if anything, she was relieved, because this was what it would take to bring down the vast control apparatus that had infested Glassville for longer than she had lived. As her crew returned to the store, they stayed there well past closing.

The nametags to deflect suspicion were Evelyn’s idea—slightly possessive for Summer’s taste, but she played along, even as a man with a Mohawk and a green-haired ex-cheerleader were added to the team by virtue of their employment at the store.

“Needs to be bigger, but this rocks!” Dana said on one of her few forays back to planet Earth. Summer realized this was her way of dealing with Summer’s control. Everyone had one. Ron clung to Shannon, while Shannon deadpanned her way through. Some obeyed her with a wink, others droned with an edge of sarcasm in their voices. What mattered was that they were themselves, and that they were loyal.

The weekend was coming to a close, and everyone headed back to their homes to sleep. The groundwork of the plan was in place.