The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Betsy decides to worship Loki and ends up in a mall

Betsy Visits a Mall

She had told me to start worshiping a God as my atheism was threatening to limit my progress. I pouted and complained and even stamped my foot but She eventually got her way, as usual. If I didn’t know better I would have said She was worried when I decided on Loki to worship. But She never worries so I must have been mistaken. Which is strange because I’m never mistaken.

Whatever… it’ll all come out in the Wash. Probably all wet and sticky.

Anyway, She warned me He was especially tricky and wasn’t for a novice at all, or most people for that matter. He certainly wasn’t that pathetic caricature of evilness that was Hollywood’s version of him. His mind was different from just about any other God and what was the point of trying to learn from a God where you couldn’t even be certain of what you were learning? But no, I disagreed. She may be my mistress but She knows squat about what I can do. In the end She gave in and let me worship Loki while She got on with her mistressing to the others, just checking in on me every now and then to see if I was all right. I mean, really! I’m not a kid am I? I’m not a novice either. Whatever… But I must do what I’m told so I let her check in on an irregular basis.

That’s how I happened to be in that mall that time. I mean I was running from the police after a teeny weeny bit of mischief, just a littley-wittley drawing of the local football hero doing what he does best and the crowds were after me. Well, the ones that supported the Toon that is, which was just about everyone here. And that drew in the police who also started to chase me. I don’t mean to brag but it was easy. The crowds had no stamina at all and dropped out exhausted when the police arrived. Now the police started chasing but, they were used to riding around in cars all day so they had no stamina when they had to chase on foot. I had to slow down drastically, pretending I was getting tired, to keep them chasing me.

I don’t like being bored.

It was then that I noticed the shadow. A shop I knew, Top Shop if you really want to know, suddenly was in a sort of shadow. I noticed that as I ran past the main entrance. That shadow was obvious to me but nobody else seemed to notice it. Strange. Perhaps it was the angle? Anyway, there was a back way out I could use so I doubled back and went in followed by those police, who were just about on their last legs by then.

And that’s how I ended up in that mall with no police to be seen. I slowed down, looking round just in case those rozzers had actually learned something and were trying to be sneaky. But they were nowhere to be seen. Strange though, the entrance I had entered through was also nowhere to be seen. I was starting to dislike the phrase ‘nowhere to be seen’. Anyway, I slowed down to a walk and checked out where I was.

It was strange indeed.

I stood out there by a long way. Not good. I was dressed in jeans and tee-shirt and an old pair of sneakers on my feet (they were my faves – special, you know). This didn’t stand out where I was before. There I was un-noticeable which is how I like it. I don’t want to be noticed at all. I don’t like that. Blend in with the crowd, that’s me. Here I was noticeable all right. OK, I am a tad taller than the average but usually I can cover that with the right clothing and attitude. You know, pull yourself in and look small. People can think you’re smaller than you are, which is good if they misread your reach.

Anyway…

… I was the only one dressed like me in that mall. Everybody else was dressed to the nines – to the hot nines actually. It had people in but it wasn’t crowded, probably because it was the middle of the day. At least it was where I was before. I realized I don’t know about here.

All the women around were dressed posh. Actually kinky posh I noted when I had a good look round. There were a couple of men in the distance who were wearing suits – expensive ones by the look, but maybe I was mistaken there. All the women though had very high heels and showed their cleavage and upper legs in one way or another – actually in one way and the other. Their blouses, what there was of them, were sheer. It was a sort of work uniform – they all looked like they were working in the offices of a porn company.

It was an unreconstituted man’s wet dream this place was. And no women had a small amount of cleavage either, which was statistically impossible if this was a random sampling. That should tell me something I thought, apart from the fact that I can’t compete with them – in this area anyway. There was good news in this. I don’t have to wear some industrial grade sports bra to do anything in clothes that required movement and I didn’t have to cut them off in order to fire a bow. Why didn’t Wonder Woman do that? She was an Amazon after all. Probably because she was excused on account of being the Queen’s daughter. Playing favourites that Queen was. You’d never see our Queen playing family favourites. We have a proper Queen.

Anyway, the only thing I could think of there and then was to get out. This didn’t look right at all. Those women all looked happy and perky as well. Never a good sight that. Scary in fact. A sight to see from as far away as possible, methinks. Preferably on the telly, if I had to see it at all. So I looked around for an exit, any exit.

Where the fuck were the exits?

What I did see was one of those women walking straight towards me with a big smile on her face. She had a badge on her top thing (I’m not going to describe the clothes—use your imagination for God’s sake) which said ‘My Name is Mary. How May I Serve You?’ And Mary, when she got close, actually very close, said with a smile…

“Hi. My name is Mary. You look lost. Can I help you?”

Which was very nice of her considering I must look like some sort of danger to her with her looking up at me despite her heels, tight skirt and obvious lack of muscle anywhere—plenty of fat though.

Did I say she had big boobs? She had. Very big boobs. That was a distraction because I am that way inclined. Actually I’m inclined the other way as well. It’s the best version of human sexuality there is. Get the best of both worlds and everything in between, that’s my motto. Anyway, her question needed an answer, so I answered.

“Thanks pet. I’m Betsy and I seem to be lost. Where is this place and how do I get out”?

She looked puzzled.

“But you can’t get in without a chief bringing you in and no-one has got away ever”, she responded using a frown and a puzzled tone.

Look, I have to say now she wasn’t the brightest candle in the cathedral. But she had a smile and was trying to help me, so I couldn’t just slag her off, could I? Anyway, she had a smell that told me things. The smell of females in heat is quite distinct and she reeked of it. Once I realized what was what here, I opened my olfactory sense and that smell was everywhere. Most, if not all, of the women here had a similar smell. It was so prevalent I felt woozy and wobbled a bit and quickly reverted my smelling back to normal. That was intense. If they could bottle it they could incapacitate people with just one whiff.

Perhaps they did.

Anyway, I tried to be nice to this lady (which was an effort, I am Loki’s child after all) and looked round again. It was then I saw a couple of women in the distance who were not the same as the rest. I had given up on asking the women here after this one encounter as I was increasingly of the opinion that I had to get out of there and these women didn’t appear to be able to help me in this. Not their fault but there it was. Anyway, just before I politely asked this ‘lady’ to leave me alone, I changed my mind and instead asked…

“Just who are those women”? I pointed out the two women in the distance who were both looking at me or this helpful lady. I wonder which? One of them was talking on her phone. I wonder which of us they were talking about.

Those women were different from the rest. They were expensively (probably, I’m no expert) dressed in trouser suits of sober coloring, unlike all the other women I could see.

“Oh they’re office chiefs”, she said with a relieved smile. “They’ll know what to do. We can ask them”, and she started out towards them dragging me with her. At least she thought she would drag me. It didn’t appear she had anybody simply refuse and not move before. The look on her face was priceless.

“Don’t bother”, I said staring at them. “I know exactly what they’ll say and I disagree”.

I needed information and didn’t have much time, so I asked quickly, “What did you do before you came here, Mary?”

Mary screwed up her face and struggled to reply. Finally she brightened and answered, “I was a pr- a prof—“, she stopped, thought, then brightened, “a teacher,” she replied with pride.

“And what did you teach”?

Mary thought again. “Fi—, fil—“, again she screwed up her face in thought. “Thinking”, she finally answered. Her smiling face showed the triumph she felt on remembering that.

“And what do you do here Mary?”

That was an easy one. “Oh I’m an office help,” she answered happily.

I didn’t doubt it. I did doubt though, if she had the brains to be an office help, whatever that was.

“And what does an office help do, Mary”?

“Helps in the office”, she answered brightly. I looked puzzled. I had to exaggerate my puzzled look. She wasn’t that quick on the uptake.

“I put the chief’s papers in files. Tidy up. Bring the chief’s coffee. Relieve the chiefs. Help the guests. Type the words”.

She would have gone on, but I stopped her gently with my hand.

“Thank you Mary. I know exactly what you do. Thank you”.

She brightened and gave me a big, natural smile. ‘This one needed constant approval’, I thought.

‘One more question to confirm’, I further thought.

“Mary. Please do me a favour. Say Professor of Philosophy for me. Please”. I added my most winning smile at the end. That smile has won competitions. It worked as well, although I think Mary would help anyone with anything they ask.

Mary looked at me in what I assumed was panic. Then she brightened. “Teacher of Thinking”, she answered.

I thought so. Nothing more than two syllables allowed for the office helps here. I didn’t want to stay. I like my syllables.

I looked at those tits again and wondered what they would feel like. Well, it would depend, wouldn’t it? I’m not having surgery, that’s for mugs. But I suppose I could be persuaded to grow them this big, just to see what they were like. I’d need to grow out me arse as well, to balance things out. But, how does she run? What do big-titted women do for themselves? All I’ve seen is them getting men to do everything for them. That would be boring. Where’s the fun there?

My big-titted helper started flapping then, it looked like she finally remembered those chiefs again. But I didn’t want her flapping as that would draw the crowds in all the faster. As it is I assumed help or security was on its way. So I distracted my new boson-buddy by saying,

“Did you know I can tell you the day on which you were born just by feeling your chest”? OK, I don’t normally say ‘chest’ but this one was so innocent it wasn’t in my nature to offend, even if she couldn’t understand how she should have been offended. As I said, innocent. Well, innocent in some ways I corrected myself.

She looked puzzled and said with a smile (she was so easy to distract),

“You can’t do that. Not even a chief can do that”.

So I replied with,

“Then I’ll prove it. Let me fondle your chest and I’ll tell you what day you were born on”.

She straightened up even further,

“OK”, she said smiling again.

So I fondled her tits for a while, which kept the crowds at bay while they watched to see what I would do next. I was enjoying the experience – weirdly, they felt natural—while looking round for an escape while watching those two female chiefs – unweirdly, they looked dangerous—when I saw some men slowly arrive and approach those female chiefs wearing flats. Did I say they were wearing flats? That they weren’t crippled? Those female chiefs I mean. Sorry, everything was happening so fast then I must have forgot. They looked athletic as well. And so did those men chiefs. They all were one breed while the others looked like a sissyfus of low IQ defenseless sheep-tarts. And they were hanging back – the chiefs I mean. I looked around for security which should be arriving just about now, and there they were, sticking to the walls and acting at playing it cool too much and watching the situation. I wondered if they were armed. They would be if this was the USA and it was by their accents. I looked specifically and they were. Armed I mean. They all wore some sort of gun in a holster of sorts. I’d never seen a weapon like that before and I’ve seen a lot of weapons in my time. I wasn’t particularly keen in finding out what it did either.

Shite.

That meant I had to get out of there without being shot. That wasn’t going to be easy. Anyway, assume the worst. And it was getting worse by the minute. Those guards approached—there were five of them now in a line across the mall—slowly walking towards me. Others were getting the foot traffic into the closest shops they could find. It was starting to look like I was going to need another body. She was going to be pissed at that. She hates wasting bodies.

Anyway that’s when I saw it. The shadow across a posh door – a door with Mens Imperium written on it. A shadow that nobody else seemed to see. And I looked deliberately to see if they saw. They didn’t.

So I stopped feeling up Mary the mentally challenged and started to walk away towards those security personnel. At least that would keep her as safe as possible if they started firing. She pouted and said,

“Well, what day was I born on then”?

I turned round and said, “Yesterday,” and at the same time I tossed some fairy dust in the air.

Now I know I wasn’t supposed to have it, so technically it was cheating. But do you know what I thought was happening at that mall? And do you think I can fight a group of five armed guards? Well, OK, I can, but I might have gotten hurt if I played fair and I had to play fair because I didn’t have any weapons on me so this was the easiest way out.

That dust was well past its sell by date so the required effect just didn’t happen. (Actually it was well past its sell by date when I nicked it from the National Elf Service when I did my stint there and I’ve had it for a while now). Pity that. I love it when that stuff works properly. But it fizzled embarrassingly badly.

However it was just enough to encourage those guards to dive to the ground giving me enough time to run a couple of steps and jump over one prone guard and dive for the shadow, which was starting to fade. Bloody Loki never plays fair. But the guard I jumped over was alert and drawing something from her uniform so I kicked her in the forearm, which broke by the sound, while I vaulted over her. Anyhow, her arm jerked and something flew into the air. I caught it automatically while diving for the shadow.

I just got through and ended up diving, head first down the Top Shop steps to the ground. Thanks Loki you bastard. That cost me the skin from half my face and two teeth and it takes bloody ages to grow new teeth. I had to pull out of the beauty competition.

Loki does have a sense of humor. I would’ve won.

I wonder who’ll win now when they all develop a face full of zits just before the start.

It took me quite a while to get away that time, I’ve never known them to be faster getting the cuffs on. They must have been practicing—were they training for a competition? But I really preferred it that way than staying in that mall. I never wanted to see that place again. I shuddered at the thought.

Eventually I went home (luckily after dark so no-one I knew saw me sans skin and teeth, I would never have heard the end of that) after amending a few of those police memories and records. That’s a knackering job I hate doing. It’s fiddly and it drains me a lot.

I wondered whether to tell Her about this. She would say, in that way of Hers that’s always so bloody correct, that I chose Loki, so I must go through with all of it and I had no choice. But She always already knows everything so there was no need to tell Her anything so I went to bed. That mobile I managed to acquire would keep ’till the morn. Don’t worry, I removed the battery first thing so the GPS wouldn’t work. I’m not that daft.

Meanwhile Tilly Jigger and Stewart Herschel were devoting their time exclusively to discovering who that girl was and how she got in and out. They had organized teams of experts to interrogate all witnesses, investigate all the recordings from the CCTVs that had caught the events, check for anomalous power flows that could possibly account for a person simply appearing in the mall from thin air and without passing any security at all, discover what made her wobble like she was going to faint and find out where that cell phone had gone to. These people did not get to the top without being very good indeed. And they were determined.