The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I.

“Look on the bright side.” Edge considered. There wasn’t enough of one to change anything for him. “At least we get to stay in this dimension this time!” Bourbon looked around, “Not that I see why that’s so important to you.” Edge took another fistful of aspirin. Just a few pills shy of a serious overdose. They still weren’t helping; his tolerance to aspirin was almost as high as his intolerance for imaginary cats or cheap booze. Edge took a moment to consider the possibility that he he was in a nice comfortable room wearing a nice white jacket with lots of shiny buckles, a comforting thought except for the pain in his head that made it difficult for him to play this scenario out to his satisfaction. There was nothing on the planet that felt exactly like this except the mother of all hangovers. He tasted his acidified guts and wood splinters. Had he actually licked the table?

Bourbon stood there impatiently waiting for Edge to complete his inner monologue. “Are we quite finished?” Edge made ever so slight an acknowledgment, one that wouldn’t cause more pain or the room to start moving in a disconcerting manner again. “Good, then we can get down to cases.” First we need to get you cleaned up, or actually, you do. Then we need to get something into you. Then we need to go shopping. There’s no damned food anywhere in this place. You may wish to starve to death but I do not share that wish. The cat food coupons are on the dresser by the bed.” Edge complied in an almost mechanical manner. It was simply easier in this condition than trying to think for himself. Ignoring the cat, although an amusing idea, would and could only ultimately lead to a long heated argument with himself that he just wasn’t up to right now. His overactive if deranged imagination was making his head ache worse so he hurried as best he could. “And take a shower dude.” More grumbling. Edge ran the water. It was warm and soothing. He lay his forehead against the cool tiles under the cascading water. He stayed this way for a long time. He had no desire to move. Maybe he’d just stay like this until the warm water ran out. Bourbon was still going on about something through the door but thankfully the actual words were drowned mostly out by the hissing shower. Edge closed his eyes. So.... relaxing... ahhhhh.... so.... SON OF A BITCH!!! The water stabbed him like a thousand frozen needles. Edge staggered out of the shower shivering like he had been plunged into a giant glass of ice water. He floundered for a towel. There wasn’t one. “God damn, what the hell?” Bourbon stood in the open doorway swishing his tail impatiently. “As I was saying. We do not have time to dally about.” Breathing heavily Edge took a menacing step towards the cat, who simply ignored the unrealistic threat. Edge could hear the water running in the kitchen. No doubt the hot water. It was all too easy to figure out what had happened to his warm water. “You look much more alert anyway, " the cat quipped before bouncing away. Edge strung together an impressive string of curses and epithets. they didn’t change anything, but did make him feel slightly better.

“Now I know why the girls don’t flock to you,” Bourbon observed upon returning, looking directly at Edges family jewels. Edge grabbed his pants and covered up. Yah, you take an ice bath like I just did and you won’t impress...” What was he saying? He was verbally emasculating himself in his delusions now? The cat shrugged. Whatever you say. Not my place to judge. Just an observation really. Cats aren’t concerned with size. We have a sorta hook on our penis that... Edge wasn’t listening to this. “You’re a real pig.” “Probably,” the cat cheerily concluded. “But i get some every day. There’s always a female cat in heat somewhere”. Bourbon seemed against all reason to be grinning. “But we have more important things to do than do a statistical analysis of the sad differences in the mating habits of cats versus people. I’ll never understand the strange human practice of semi preeminently pairing. Monogamy, I think its called.” Bourbons tone became serious, urgent. “We need to get to the market. We only have twenty minutes. After that things will go badly”. Edge gave the cat a doubtful look. “What’s the matter, they going to run out of cat food or something?” “Witty repartee’ and sarcasm...hmmm... maybe you’re beginning to show signs of being the old you after all. At last signs of life. But none-the-less we do need to be on our way immediately.” Something suddenly occurred to Edge. “You do realize that I don’t have money for cat food.” He seemed to get some satisfaction at this idea. “If we had any money i would have spent it on something important. Like toilet paper or a better bottle last night. At least he wasn’t going to waste real money on food for an imaginary cat. “Wanna bet?” Bourbon had a tone like he knew something Edge didn’t. He sounded way too self assured. Edge didn’t like where this was going. “I don’t have any money “, he reaffirmed. “No YOU don’t”, the cat agreed. “But you still need to go to the market”. Edge stopped dressing. “And why would that be?” “They have a public bathroom,” the cat simply stated. “With rolls of toilet paper you can...uh...borrow.” Edge couldn’t believe he had come to this. Pilfering toilet paper from public rest rooms was definitely a new low. He could image how this would sound when they finally did lock him away: Yes doctor, the voices told me to steal toilet paper. No, no, they didn’t tell me to kill, or rape, or commit suicide, or go on some psychotic holy crusade. Toilet paper. It told me to steal toilet paper. He pictured the doctors face. It was either going to be the most embarrassing or funniest moment of his life.

Edge wondered if he could starve an imaginary cat to death?

II.

The corner market was nothing extraordinary. Edge had wanted to go to the Super-Shop Food Warehouse but Bourbon had badgered him into going to the little grocery down the street. The Super-Shop had better prices and much nicer bathrooms. not that he was going to buy anything. But the little corner grocery was a pit that should have closed permanently long ago. in the age of massive chains these little corner joints had ceased to be realistically competitive long ago. Run down, under stocked, and over priced these dinosaurs somehow managed to cling just this side of extinction with an unbelievable tenacity that would eventually prove inadequate to overcome the inevitable. the only people still using these stores were old folks who couldn’t drive and the truly lazy who refused to drive the extra five minutes to save way more than the gas money spent. Why that stupid cat wanted to come here completely escaped him. Maybe this was some new torment or payback trying to maim him with...uh something or other, last night. The white paper banners of the weekly specials (which hadn’t changed in weeks) almost entirely covered the stores front display windows. It was impossible to see inside, but Edge had been here before and already knew what to expect. The “specials” were easily 20% higher then comparable regular prices just down the street. Not that he had any money so it didn’t much matter. As he pushed the glass door open to enter the worst canned Muzak he had ever heard poured outside. The droning monotony of 30 year old hits reduced to mindless Muzak was certain to make his headache worse. He mentally made a note to thank the cat later. He waded through the wall of Muzak and forced himself almost involuntarily inside. He didn’t bother to notice if the cat had followed. At this point he really didn’t care. Michael went through all the gestures of shopping for what seemed a reasonable time before asking for the bathroom key. The the little old prune faced man behind the counter looked him up and down like he was trying to decide if this was the kind of person he wanted in “his” bathroom. Give a guy a key and he thinks he’s somebody important Edge thought to himself. Jesus man, I’m not asking for your daughters hand or a ten thousand dollar loan, all I want is to use the can. Actually edge just stood there patiently, saying no such thing. Smiling and trying to look pleasant. Squinting like he was trying to look right through Edge, the old man reached for the key hanging on a peg behind the counter, never once taking his milky old bloodshot eye off him for a moment. Michael was betting the old guy would go check the bathroom right after he was done. There just wasn’t any trust left in the world. “Psssst!” Edge looked around. In whispered tones: “Psssst! Hey Mikey.” Edge closed his eyes and grimaced. he didn’t need to see. “give em back the key”. “What?” “Give the prune back the key.” Edge was confused. He moved down aisle two (of three) and turned his back to the large round anti-shoplifting mirrors above the aisles so he wouldn’t look like a crazy, talking to thin air. “Why? I still need toilet paper. And like you pointed out used shopping bags aint gonna cut it, so why would I give the key back”. The cat responded with the patience of an adult explaining something to a confused child. Well, first of all you don’t need to ..uh...borrow TP, I have a better solution, and second if you go in there you’re going to miss it...". “It?” Yes, it... Edge got a sinking nauseous feeling but not from anything he had done to himself In the last 24 hours. His muscles tensed, his eyes narrowed, he became almost cat-like n his stance. It! “If you’re gonna return that key I suggest you do it NOW!” The cat prompted. Edge quickly made his way to the front of the store, made some incoherent explanation , and thanked prune man for the key, who simply stared at him like he was well... nuts. “Now go pick up the toilet paper and whatever odds and ends we need like nothing unusual is going to happen. And don’t forget cat food!” Edge hesitated. “And a couple inch thick steaks?” Edge added sarcastically. “Sure, why not .” was the cats matter of factual reply. “Better get a cart, we’ll look less conspicuous that way.” Edge looked directly at the cat, who was now sitting on one of the store six shopping carts. “Are you out of your mind?” The cat didn’t reply. If he was a figment of Michael Edge’s imagination then the whole question was pretty stupid. Edge shrugged and started to pull one of the carts out of the others. “Not that one. It has a broken wobbly wheel.” Edge frowned and made a doubtful face. He pulled out the cart and began pushing it towards the meat and frozen aisle. It vibrated and wobbled and jerked hard to the left. It took considerable effort to keep it rolling straight. The cat jumped into the small items basket of the cart Edge was struggling with and gave him an “I told you so” look, but said nothing. Edge simply glared and kept pushing. He was between Milk and ice cream when he got his first idea that something was going on in the store that was even slightly out of the ordinary. Bourbon was sitting straight up in the cart, intently listening, ears erect. Edge had a sudden great idea. “I’m going to go home now.” He started to turn the cart around. The cat hopped up onto the push bar and balanced there defying gravity. “Don’t you dare leave without cat food.” “I don’t have money”, he growled angrily and out of patience. He started wheeling towards the door again.

“I have money”, the cat stated flatly.

Edge stopped. Looking down at the cat he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. where the cat had been sitting was a wallet. Edge reached down and touched it. The cat simply ignored him and remained alert now. The wallet seemed real enough. he opened it. No sort of ID whatever. he looked all around. All the other shoppers (all 5 of them) were in other aisles. Him, his delusion, and the wallet full of money were all alone. He didn’t hesitate. he stuffed the money into his pocket in a bunch and sort of dropped/discarded the wallet onto the floor where he slid it under one of the dairy cases with his foot sort of accidentally like. “We’re gonna get us the good two ply tp and steak,” Edge told himself, as he struggled to turn the cart around again. Edge was determined to get out of the market before the cats “event”, whatever it might be, could occur, grabbed meat, cat food, and the best toilet paper the grocery had to offer. He overpowered the errant cart and forced it determinedly towards the checkout. A prune faced old woman (obviously the prune faced old mans wife) watched him approach. He might just make it, he told himself... maybe... if only he could get out before... all hell could break loose.