The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Sun shone through the open balcony doors into the bedroom of the castle. It cast it’s beam across the marbled floor, onto the Persian rug, across the king-sized bed, and onto the face of Contessa Helena de San Finzione. She opened one eye slightly and the light entered it as well.

Helena grumbled and turned over, burying her face in the shoulder of the man still sleeping next to her, inadvertently kicking his...girlfriend? Wife? Hot chick that happened to be near him in the taverna at the time? Whoever she was, La Contessa had decided she wanted them both, and the locals had a saying whenever something went missing or someone attractive didn’t come home last night: “(He/She/It) will be back when La Contessa tires of them.”

The sound of approaching heels on marble killed any hope she had of getting back to sleep. She began to slide her way out of the satin sheets as the maid removed her shoes before treading on the Persian rug and kneeling at Helena’s bedside. She swung her legs over the side of the bed.

“Good morning, Contessa. Have your visitors satisfied you, or do you require service?”

The Countess smiled. “Your tongue can rest this morning, Maria. My guests were...satisfactory. Have the gift baskets prepared. Not the best ones. Any word on the other matter?”

“Si, Contessa. Is why I come to wake you early, as you order. The man from la policia, he is waiting on phone.” The maid produced a cellphone from her cleavage and presented it for the Contessa. She took it and nodded, looking at the call time. The inspector had been on hold for four minutes.

Helena took a cigarette from a waiting pack on the nightstand and lit it. “Coffee, Greek; two croissants.” The maid nodded and rose to her feet, leaving to prepare the Contessa’s tray. Helena took a couple of drags from her cigarette and looked at the phone. She let the inspector wait on hold for another minute before pressing the button. “Speak.”

“Si, Contessa. They landed half an hour ago. I have verified that they are the couple in the photos. There were some questions with Customs, but the agent they spoke to confirmed that they answered his questions satisfactorily and their baggage was allowed through. They’re at the car rental kiosk now. I’ll have their plate number and photos of the vehicle sent to your local police once I can obtain the information.”

She took a fourth drag of the cigarette, tamping it out, and lighting another. “Send it to this number as well. And inform them the police not to approach them. Observe and report, only. What questions did Customs ask them?”

“The agent’s report did not say, and when I asked for details, all he said was that there were questions about the contents of a trunk they brought with them, but that all questions were answered satisfactorily and they were sent on their way.”

Helena reached for a silk nightgown and slipped it on. The same statement from before, reworded. She knew how they solved their Customs problem. “Good work, Inspector. Send that report, then return to your supervisor. He’s already approved the overtime.”

“Grazi, Contessa.”

She ended the call as the maid returned carrying a silver tray. Helena grabbed a still-warm croissant and a steaming demitasse cup from the tray and walked out onto the balcony, looking across the garden below. She sat down in front of a small table, set down her cup, and raised a finger. When she turned around, Maria was waiting with the tray and the other croissant.

“Wake them up and send them...wherever they want to go,” Helena said, grabbing the other croissant. She took a bite of the first and turned back to look at the garden. As the maid turned to carry out her orders, Helena said to nobody “It’s going to be an interesting day.”

Troy Equals pulled over and checked the GPS on his phone. “What do they call a count or countess’... territory or fiefdom or whatever, anyway?”

“A county.” Julie Equals replied as she got out and checked the straps on the large steamer trunk tied to the roof of the car.

“Hmm, that seemed TOO obvious. I thought it’d be something like a ‘countancy’ or ‘countdom.’”

Julie got back in the car and turned on the MP3 player. Blondie’s Atomic came out of the stereo, and she turned the volume down to conversational levels. “Do you think she knows we’re here yet?“

“Don’t doubt it at all. In fact...” he said as he put the car in gear and pulled away, then started a fake maniacal laugh. “...I’m absolutely counting on it!”

Julie put on a pair of large sunglasses with red plastic frames, leaned the seat back, and produced a white sun hat. “I’m in favor of any plan that involves me wearing this hat. So, what’s the next part of the plan, Mr. Bond?”

Troy slipped into a bad Sean Connery impression. “Nexsht, we prosheed to the town and check into our hotel poshing as a newlywed couple.”

“Ooh, good,” Julie replied, laying back in the seat and smiling. “I’ve been practicing that one.”

Without looking away from the road, Troy put his hand on her knee and started creeping it up her thigh. “Of courshe, the shecret of a shuccesshful cover operation ish to maintain appearanshes even when you’re shertain you’re not being watched.”

As his hand disappeared up her skirt, Julie giggled out an “Oh, JAMES!”

Centuries ago, the late Count’s ancestors had used this room for plotting wars against their neighbors. Located in the center of the castle and made with thick stone walls, it doubled as a final fallback position if the castle were overrun and had a hidden passage to an escape tunnel. Helen always found it a good place to think, and she’d had it converted into a study.

A large TV on one wall played the video of Troy and Julie’s wedding three weeks ago. La Contessa sat in a Louis XIV chair with a cigarette in one hand and a remote control in the other, occasionally pausing the video to study some detail she’d noticed.

She’d stopped at the point where the priest asked if the best man had the rings. Everyone laughed when Julie lifted her finger in a “just a moment” gesture, side-stepped over to the best man’s spot next to Troy and gave him the rings, then went back to the bride’s spot so they could exchange them. Julie had looked toward her as she returned to the position and Helen could have sworn she winked.

She mainly looked for the moments where one of the two of them looked toward her seat. Most of the people who knew them might just see the happiness of the special day on their faces, but someone who knew them both as long and as intimately as Helen had could see more. She fast-forwarded to the kiss, and then paused again as the two of them turned and the priest introduced Mr. & Ms. Equals to all assembled. At that moment, the two had looked directly at her, and she studied their faces again.

Helen set the remote on a table next to the chair and took a drag of her cigarette as her other hand idly trailed down between her legs. They were both gorgeous; there was no question of that. Knowing smiles were on their faces. She looked down to their hands. Yes, they were holding hands, which was only to be expected. Everyone was so happy for them. Despite herself, Helen was happy for them as well. But that look they shared and the handhold with the fingers interlocking told her that they’d already figured out how they were going to get back at her for the prank the night before.

And now they were here in San Finzione, ready to put their plan into action. She couldn’t wait. She had been brushing her nether lips through the fabric of the dress she wore and was slowly hiking it up to gain unrestricted access when the number she’d given the Prefect of Police rang. With a huff, she took a last drag of her cigarette and answered.

“Speak,” was all she said to the person on the other end.

“Si, Contessa. One of my officers just called from the Hotel de Finzione. A couple checked into the honeymoon suite giving the name Equals. They went straight up to their room and have not left since.”

“They ARE a honeymooning couple, Prefect. That much is to be expected. Let me know the moment they leave.” She ended the call and texted Maria, the walls of the room being too thick for the hand bell to be heard outside. The maid stepped into the room and stood by the Contessa’s side, awaiting instruction. Helen took hold of Maria’s shoulder and guided her down to her knees. She offered no resistance as she shuffled on her knees to position herself between La Contessa’s open legs.

Helen stared at the paused image of her oldest friends and former lovers holding hands as the young maid went to work on her slit. Of course they checked into a hotel instead of coming to the castle. It’d hardly do to show up on her doorstep with revenge in mind. But even if they HAD come just as friends, they wouldn’t have “imposed.” Heh, imposed…

If they just thought like her (“Mmm, yeah.”), if they understood what a gift the three of them shared; she’d have sent her jet to collect them, limo and police escort at the airport, red carpets would have been rolled out, the ceremonial cannons on the castle walls would have been fired in salute. The party would have gone on (“Ooh, good, Maria.”) for days. Champagne, caviar, cocaine, any hot piece of ass that caught their eyes; all would have flowed like… (“Fuck, yes.”) well, like the wine that would ALSO be flowing as much as the other things. (“Just like that, Maria.”) “Troy & Julie Day” would become a national holiday.

She looked into Julie’s eyes, remembering seeing those eyes gazing up at her like Maria’s were now, feeling that tongue. Maria was good, but nobody was Julie good. (“Yeah, yeah.”) Then she looked over at Troy. (“Oh, fuck, more!”) Her eyes fixed on the bulge in his tuxedo pants. She remembered what he was hiding in there. The thought of having both of them in her bed again (“Yes, Troy, Yes!”), brought her over the edge with a long, loud sigh.

Maria produced a wet washcloth and cleaned La Contessa’s snatch, the chair, and her own face. Helen gazed into her eyes.

“Forget what you have just done.”

The maid blinked, unable to place the taste on her lips, then stopped thinking about it. “Si, La Contessa. How may I serve you?”

“Lunch. Surprise me. I imagine we’ll have a few surprises soon.

Julie rolled off of Troy and back onto the bed next to him. They kissed deeply, tasting themselves in each other’s mouths.

“Well, that was wonderful,” Troy said as she reached down and gave his still-hard cock a couple of playful strokes.

“Yeah. We should, like, get married or something.”

“I’ll look into it,” Troy said with a peck on the cheek as he rolled over and turned on the laptop. “You know, she might’ve put something on here.”

“She said she didn’t and I believe her. She’s a lot of things, but she understands that if we can’t take each other’s word, this stops being a game.”

“Ok, I’ll buy that,” he said, bringing up a map of the town. “I think we’ve got everything we’ll find online. The easy part’s over. We should get cleaned up, get some of the stuff from the trunk, and see the town.”

“It WOULD give that detective in the lobby time to search the room, but we’ve got some time yet. We’re in San Finzione now, nothing happens between 12 and 2.”

“Well, how would you suggest we pass the time, Mrs. Equals?”

She stood up from the bed and walked to the bathroom, giving her ass a bit more wiggle than usual to get Troy’s attention. “If it were up to ME, I’d say Mr. Equals gets in here and fucks me in the whirlpool bath.”

Troy got up to follow her. “And after that?”

She turned back towards him and smiled.

“THEN, we go start getting even with our mutual first girlfriend.”

“You have the best ideas, Mistress.”

She held the door for him. “You REALLY never thought we were?”

“You played Barbies together. And don’t all girls practice kissing at slumber parties or has TV lied to me again?”

The door closed behind them.