The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Be Mine

by Captain Eazy

4

In the next couple of weeks, Casey discovered something new, not about Brenda, but about himself: He had been doing a half-assed job for years.

In teaching Brenda to behave like herself, he was discovering that he had not been putting forth much effort. He had met his job expectations, barely, but he had been satisfied with that. In working with the complex new project, he constantly found himself going beyond the merely necessary, meeting the clients more than halfway, suggesting alternates and pointing out the benefits of even the most difficult choices. The clients, against all odds, seemed to like him. The project became a major job for Casey’s company, with the prospect of big rewards if they carried it through. Casey was careful to give props to Brenda for all this, and Brenda in return insisted that their work was all a team effort—as, of course, Casey had commanded her to do. Tesson seemed to be pleased with both of them.

One evening Cara called, wanting to remind Brenda that she needed checks for rent and utilities. Casey had forgotten details like that. He lied and told Cara that Brenda was out at the moment, but promised to give her the message, and as soon as he hung up the phone, he told Brenda to get her checkbook.

Brenda did, then sat naked in his lap, nuzzling his ear, thrusting her tongue down inside, whispering vulgarities in a husky voice as he looked through her check register. “Do you—stop that—have automatic deposit?”

“Mm-hmm.” She giggled. “I can feel your cock getting hard under my ass! Mm, I love it. Let’s fuck, please. Let me fuck you.”

“After you write some checks. Looks like you owe half the ren—mpf!”

Brenda had turned to straddle him and had grabbed his head, pulling his face into the warm soft pillow of her breast. She squirmed against him, rubbing the pulsing nipple across his lips. “Suck it,” she groaned. “Mm, bite it! Oh, I want to feel your cock deep inside me.”

What the hell. Business could wait. Casey flicked his tongue across her stiffened nipples, and she threw her head back and gave vent to a long, sexy “Ahhhhhh!” Her hands caressed his head, stroking his hair, and even with his face pressed into her breasts, he could smell the heady, musky scent of her pussy, growing wet and ready for him.

“Let me get undressed,” he muttered at last. “I’ll fuck you, but let me—”

“No, can’t wait,” she moaned. She hopped off him, hastily unzipped his pants, and fished out his straining cock. Then she was astride him again, settling down, letting his shaft glide smoothly into her wet waiting slit, and she began pumping him. “God, yes! Oh, it’s so good! Do you like that? If you do, bite my nipples!”

Actually it was a bit uncomfortable. The zipper of his fly scraped his cock near the base as she moved up and down, and he struggled to tug the opening a little wider. He cushioned his bottom teeth with his lip, caught one of her nipples between his top teeth and his lower lip, and nipped at it. She squealed and writhed. “Yes! Harder! Oh, thank you! Wanna come! Wanna come now!”

Like a little kid with a toy, Casey thought.

But her rippling pussy was wonderful, like tiny fingers working his cock, like a mouth inside a mouth inside a mouth, three sets of wet, greedy lips sucking at it. He couldn’t hold back for very long and he groaned, “Come, Brenda!”

“Yesss!” She leaned way back, pinching her own nipples, and Casey saw the familiar pink flush, almost a rash, that she always showed when she came. She drove down hard, and he spurted inside her. A moment later, she had pulled off him, dripping strings of cum, and dropped to her knees, her mouth eagerly cleaning his rod, her tongue searching for the little white liquid pearls of his jism. She sank two fingers into her dripping cunt, brought them away glazed with his cum, and sucked them, smiling up at him in rapt adoration.

“Now,” Casey said when he got his breath back. “Checks. Please?”

He got a towel for her to sit on and had her write checks for rent and utilities. When she finished, he had her use the computer to check her bank balance.

“Twelve thousand dollars?” he asked in amazement. “Uh, do you owe anything else?”

The car payment was an automatic deduction, nothing to worry about there. She had a savings account, too, with nearly fifty thousand in it. Hell, if he’d known that, he could have had her quit the job, and then he wouldn’t have had to—to retrain her—

But he’d liked training her. He’d liked bringing at least a faint semblance of the old Brenda back.

“Do my ass?” Brenda asked pleadingly. She had slipped out of the computer chair and braced herself on hands and knees, legs far apart, and she looked back over her shoulder at him with a winning, expectant, lascivious smile.

“I ought to get some of that damn guy’s potion for a hard dick,” muttered Casey.

But he couldn’t resist that magnificent ass.

* * *

One morning in mid-March, without warning, Mr. Tesson walked into their office. Fortunately, he found Brenda working at her computer console and Casey proofing a report. Had he come in ten minutes earlier, it would have been a different scene altogether.

“Here you are,” he said, as if he had expected to find them somewhere else. “Listen, everything going smooth on the Chancellor project?”

“Yes. It’s big, but under control,” Casey said. “We’re wondering if they’re really going to be willing to overhaul their—”

Tesson waved a dismissive hand. “Good, good. So the two of you might be able to find time for a . . . a smaller job? Local?”

“The Chancellor project is awfully complicated,” Casey said. “Isn’t it, Brenda?”

“The Chancellor project is awfully complicated,” she agreed, nodding.

“Well, the thing is, this business asked for you two, specifically,” Tesson said. “Look, at least give the guy an estimate. If you can work his project in, I’ll give you two a bonus. Say five thousand apiece. Sound good?”

“Uh, we can talk to him, I guess,” Casey said. “Brenda, we can at least talk to him.”

“We can at least talk to him,” Brenda agreed gravely.

“Good, good,” Tesson said. “I’ll send him in. Strange guy, but he seems to know what he wants. His name’s—uh—” he looked at a card—“Toe.”

Tesson walked out. Casey looked at Brenda. “What the hell kind of a name is Toe?”

“Do you want to fuck me now?” Brenda asked hopefully as soon as their boss had left.

“Not just now. Later, maybe.”

A couple of minutes later, a very thin, elegantly dressed older man appeared in the doorway. He wore an expensive-looking tailored suit, dark gray, a pale blue silk shirt and a conservative tie. He might have been in his sixties. He also wore an old-fashioned white Panama hat, which he swept off as he entered, revealing a high, bald forehead, skin the color of old ivory, and a face so wrinkled it looked like a relief map of the Himalayas. His long gray hair, really just a fringe, was pulled back into a ponytail held by a gold clasp studded with small rubies and sapphires. “So pleasant to see you both here,” he said in a deep, resonant voice. “May I be seated?”

“Sure,” Casey said, wondering where he’d seen the guy before. There was something familiar about him, especially his voice. He stood and shook hands and then indicated the client’s loveseat against the wall. “Please sit down, Mr., ah, Toe.”

The man sank gracefully onto the loveseat and his wrinkled face split into a smile. “Mr. Tao,” he corrected, and spelled it. “I should have corrected Mr. Tesson, but his mispronunciation based on my card was really rather touching. Dear me, Mr. Brock, don’t you recognize me? You have visited my little emporium several times.” He winked a glittering eye and his voice kited up into a treble register as he asked, “You want potion for big, big boobs? For big dick?”

“Good God,” Casey said.

“Thank you for the compliment, but not quite,” Tao replied solemnly. He extended an appreciative hand toward Brenda. “Ah, lovely lady. Is he still fucking you well?”

“Just once today,” pouted Brenda. “My pussy is so wet for him.”

“Shh!” Casey spun around and locked the door. He had the irrational feeling that he should pile his desk, Brenda’s desk, and possibly the little old man against it as a barricade. “Not here!”

“But she is responding in a very open, loving, natural way,” Tao said with a shrug. “Brenda, do you truly love this young idiot?”

“Oh, yes,” she said, her eyes gleaming.

“Hmm. And you love him even though he won your devotion by giving you a love potion that I supplied?”

“I love him,” Brenda insisted. “Oh, I love him so much!”

“I rather believe you do.” To Casey, Tao suggested quietly, “Tell her to open the window and jump out.”

“What? No!” Casey said. “We’re three floors up!”

“Go ahead. It will be interesting to see what happens.”

“No!”

Tao sighed. “Lovely lady, if Casey should tell you to open the window and leap out of it, what would you do?”

“I’d open the window,” Brenda said, smiling. “Then I’d jump out.”

Tao nodded. “Yes, I believe you would. Damn, but I’m good,” he said. “Mr. Brock, I congratulate you. My potion subjugated her will, but you have won her utter devotion and love. When you finally get tired of her, just tell her to fall down a flight of stairs or walk in front of a speeding truck—”

“Get up,” Casey said between clenched teeth. He had balled his fists. “Get up and let me knock you back down again, you—”

Tao waved a long-fingered hand in a side-to-side, dismissive gesture. “I do not believe in violence. Is it not written, ‘He who kills with a sword shall be slain with a sword?’ Some such claptrap, anyway. Mr. Brock, I did not say you had to do such a thing. But the possibility exists.”

“It’s a goddam evil thing to say,” Casey growled.

“If the path did not divide into left and right, the way you walk in this life would be without meaning,” Tao returned. “However, down to business. I should very much like you to do a longitudinal study of my customers’ buying habits. I have many, many repeat customers, but some—” the glittering eye winked again—“some sorely disappoint me by purchasing only one item from my shop and never coming back. Well, sometimes they come back but they don’t buy anything else. I should very much like to make my services more widely available. In addition to encouraging repeat trade, I should like advice on how to spread interest in my goods and services through word of mouth, which I believe to be more suited to my peculiar business than expensive advertising.”

“Go to hell.”

Tao looked at Brenda. “Tell him you will take the project on,” he said in a commanding voice.

Brenda bit her lip and turned pale. She looked toward Casey, her blue eyes brimming with bright tears of anguish. She did not say a word.

“No,” Tao said with a smile. “I retract that, Brenda. Mr. Brock, you have really done an outstanding job. She will not take an order even from me. You belong absolutely to Casey, don’t you, my dear?”

Biting her bottom lip like a little kid, Brenda nodded. She darted a panicky gaze at Casey, who stepped to her side and put his arm around her waist. “If you’re finished scaring her, get the hell out,” he said.

“First let us settle your work on my project,” Tao returned. “I anticipate it will take, oh, six weeks or so. I will need you to design an evaluation instrument—”

“You’re serious?” Casey asked. “You really want to hire us as a consultancy? You’re not just jerking us off?”

Tao held up both hands, palms out, like a magician showing he had nothing in his hands, nothing up his sleeves. “I am not jerking you off, Mr. Brock. Here are my requirements.”

Casey sighed and reached for a steno pad. He jotted down the parameters of Tao’s proposed project, promised to work up an estimate sheet for him, and saw the wrinkled old man out the door. “What happened to the Hawaiian shirts?” he asked in the doorway.

“They are for the shop,” Tao returned gravely. “Is it not written, ‘Do not expect a parrot where penguins live?’”

“Is it?” Casey asked. “That seems like a stupid thing for anyone to write!”

“Maybe it was a TV commercial. I keep getting them mixed up with Tantric philosophy,” Tao said. “Good day!”

Casey closed the door and turned around to find Brenda frowning down at a little rectangle of cardboard. “What’s that?”

“Mr. Tao’s card,” she said, handing it over.

Casey read it:

Tao’s Curios
123 4th Street
Hours: When you come in.
“Gratification guaranteed or double your karma back.”

“Crazy,” he said.

* * *

“Crazy,” Tesson said. “But he’s got a great credit rating, and he wants the work done, so let’s do it.”

“Yes, sir,” Casey replied. “But with the Chancellor project so complicated, wouldn’t it be better to give this to—”

“The old man asked for you,” Tesson said. “For the two of you. And remember, there’s a bonus in it if you satisfy him.”

“Right,” Casey said.

That afternoon, after a fevered session of sixty-nining, he told Brenda that he wanted her to spend the night in her own apartment.

“Okay,” she said, dabbing her lips with a tissue. “But tomorrow, please fuck me at least twice. I’m so horny for you.”

“We’ll see. I just have to think some things through, and it’s so hard to think with you around.”

“Because—”

“Because I love it when I fuck you or when you suck me off.”

“You’re sweet.”

Casey dropped her off, then drove back downtown. Hours: when you come in.

Sure enough, the shop was still open. Some foreign-looking people were haggling with Tao (orange Hawaiian shirt) at the counter, so Casey moped around in the shadows until they had made their purchases and left.

Tao brightened immediately when he caught sight of Casey. “Ah! You back fo’ more, yes? Your girl she like fucky-fuck so much! Maybe li’l potion keep her wet alla time—”

“She doesn’t need it,” Casey said firmly.

“Perhaps not,” Tao acknowledged. “As I said, you have shown remarkable skill in controlling her. I know of few masters who cared enough about their slaves to re-educate them as you seem to have done Miss Duane. She comes into the office every day and to her co-workers, she appears to think and to function. Truly remarkable! You and I know, of course, she is merely a fuck toy now.”

“She’s coming back,” Casey insisted. “A little at a time, but she’s coming back.”

“If you say so. I repeat, Mr. Brock, I know of no potion that can restore her will, but I humbly admit that I do not know the qualities of every rare liquid in the world. Very well, to business: Your Mr. Tesson called me to confirm our agreement. I sign the contracts tomorrow. I look forward to seeing more of you and Miss Duane. I am specifying that I want you two to be my consultants.”

“What? No. We don’t do that. We’re project managers—”

“Mr. Tesson thought it was a wonderful idea to get you into the field and see how the consultants do their work. Is it not written ‘The grasshopper cannot spin a web because he is not a spider?’ I believe you will enjoy the experience. Or at least learn from it.”

“Look,” Casey said, “please tell me the truth, for a change. All I want is the straight story. Why in hell did you pick on me?”

“I am sorry? You bought the potion yourself, did you not, of your own free will?”

“Yes, but I thought it would be like—you know, like you said, a fairy tale.”

“Alas, Mr. Brock, each human life in this world ends in its own private tragedy. There are no happily ever afters.”

“Okay. I give up. We’ll work with you. But only on one condition: stop talking to Brenda as if she were a damn dog.”

“Or puppet?”

“Or puppet. Treat her like—like a person. Like a woman.”

Tao bowed. “Very well. I agree. Tell me, though, just to satisfy my own curiosity about her complete submission, did you use every last drop of my potion on her? One is quite sufficient.”

“No, I still have half of the vial left.”

Tao’s forehead crinkled even more as he raised his wispy eyebrows. “In a safe place, I trust.”

“I’ve got it hidden in my apartment,” Casey said.

The ancient ebony eyes glittered in what might have been amusement. “All of it.”

“Yes, all that’s left.”

“Very good. That is best. Think how it could complicate matters if it were not safe.”

But as he got back into his car, Casey suddenly thought, Hold on a minute. Not all of it. There were three of those spiked chocolate candies left.

What the hell had he done with the little red “Be Mine” box? He couldn’t remember.

He arrived at his apartment and went through the place, but he couldn’t find the heart-shaped candy box anywhere. Had he thrown it away? Not likely, not when it held nearly half of his $7500 vial of potion. But what had he done with it?

The question was driving him crazy when the phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID and saw that the call was coming from Brenda’s apartment. “Hello?”

“Do you want to fuck me?” Brenda asked.

“Of course I do,” he said. “But now you need to—”

“I’m worried about Cara,” Brenda said in a weird, playful little-girl voice. “She won’t wake up. She just sleeps an’ sleeps an’ sleeps.”

“You need to go and—what? What do you mean?”

“She found your jacket hanging in the closet and there was that candy in the pocket and she asked if she could finish it and—”

Oh, damn.

“Don’t do a thing!” he said urgently. “I’ll be right over!”

He hung up and ran for the door. Oh, damn. Oh fuck!

To be continued.