The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

For the People (Chapter 9)

CHAPTER SYNOPSIS: Moira tries out a new way to gain an advantage for the corporate cause.

DISCLAIMER: The following is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any actual person, event, or organization is entirely coincidental.

Tequila sloshed over Moira’s hand. The bartender was being extra generous tonight, no surprise there. Moira’s fingers were already sticky from tapping around on the surface of the bar, and the overflow of tequila from the brim-full shot glass in front of her only added to the stickiness of her skin.

“See, that’s a good man right there,” she announced, pointing at the smirking bartender.

“No such thing!” her companion insisted. The bartender faked a hurt look, and the girl next to Moira relented. “Ok, ok fine. As long as you have alcohol in your hand, you’re all good.”

“What’d I tell you about this girl? Absolutely merciful.”

Moira and her new friend clinked their shot glasses together and downed the clear, burning liquid. They added the customary Wooooo as they slammed the glasses back down and continued their night of bonding.

Her name was Eileen. Moira had made a good impression on her as soon as she’d learned the name. “How in the world do you last in a bar like this,” she asked, “with so many people making the ‘cum on Eileen’ joke?” Turned out that it was plenty difficult, and Eileen was more than willing to commiserate with a fellow member of the sisterhood.

“God, I love this place!” Eileen announced. “You know that?”

Moira did know it. The investigator that Devin had hired was good. Moira knew exactly how often Eileen came to this specific lounge bar. She knew about the fake ID she used to get in. She knew the girl’s dating and social habits. Moira knew her home address. She had known Eileen by sight well before they just so happened to sit next to each other at the black glass bar. She knew all about Eileen’s coveted internship with Congressman Derrester. She knew exactly how much access Eileen had to the strategies of Moira’s greatest opponent in the House.

That was all before they had even met. Now Moira also knew how Eileen giggled when she was tipsy. She knew the spark in the bright green eyes lurking beneath Eileen’s black bob cut. She knew the crisp curve of Eileen’s black pencil skirt, right below the waistband. She knew the tight angles of the intern’s body, severe and gorgeous.

There was a space in the back of Moira’s mind that scoffed at even noticing another girl’s ass. Moira dismissed it out of hand. It was much more fun to indulge all the programming that Devin had given her. The thought of it made her smile.

An hour ago, Eileen had been sitting at the bar on her own after her friend was called away from an urgent phone call—arranged by Moira—and Moira had taken the seat next to her.

“I cannot believe your shoes,” Moira opened her up.

“What?” Eileen glanced at the fashionable black pumps she was wearing, a small flared golden star at the bottom of each stiletto.

“I had the exact same pair and I couldn’t pull them off. I had to give them away to a friend. And yet here you are, making them work perfectly. I don’t know if I’m more jealous of you, mad at myself, or mad at shoes in general.”

Nervous energy burst from Eileen. She was a first-year at George Mason University, and her internship hadn’t given her the chance yet to familiarize herself with the ins-and-outs of Washington. She was relieved that this strange, beautiful little woman was friendly.

“Never be mad at shoes,” she fired back at Moira. “Shoes give meaning to life.”

Moira grimaced in mock pain. “I’m Moira. If we’re going to sound like the world’s worst walking stereotype of women, let’s at least be on a first name basis.”

It had been easy chatting away with Eileen after that. Moira was naturally outgoing, with the training and experience of a political campaign manager. This lonely, sweet girl was an easy mark.

What Moira didn’t have experience with was seducing a woman. That, she was figuring out on the fly. Fortunately, she had booze helping her out. Up until now.

“And that’ll do it for me!” Eileen said, pouring the last of a gin and tonic down her throat. “I am cutting myself off.”

Moira made a show of checking her phone. “Yeah, I probably should, too. Early work.”

The bartender looked disappointed. Moira could imagine why. The two girls were more attractive than the rest of the bar put together, and Moira had been subtly making her interest in Eileen known for a while now. No show for you tonight, buddy, Moira thought at him.

Both women walked out to the valet station. “Ugh, there’s no way I can drive right now,” Moira said. It wasn’t a lie. “You probably can’t either.”

“I didn’t drive. I live like four blocks away for the summer. I just walked here.”

Moira knew. “Oh awesome. Do you mind if I come over and sober up before I drive home?”

“You got it, girlfriend.”

Laughing, the two of them linked arms and strolled down the block. Moira’s hand rubbed gently at Eileen’s side as they went. The two shared a cheerful, momentary gaze. Eileen licked her lips, totally without meaning to.

Their lips finally met in the hallway of Eileen’s apartment building. They stumbled against the door. Eileen fumbled with her key. “God, what’s happening? What am I doing?” she wondered aloud. She hiccuped slightly, a huge smile on her face.

Moira’s jacket was off before the front door closed. The two women pressed up against the wall of Eileen’s kitchen, tongues searching against each other, each of them letting out breathy squeaks of joy. Eileen was of a normal height, which meant she loomed over Moira, but even so she submitted pliantly to the smaller woman’s hands.

“Jump on up here, baby,” Moira breathed, guiding Eileen onto the open, shining kitchen counter. Eileen slid onto the counter, legs spreading as an invitation. The cool granite was a pleasant contrast to the heat coming off their bodies.

Moira found her face against Eileen’s pussy, a little triangle shaved right where Moira’s noise pressed. Eileen pressed her hands to her face, moaning drunkenly. “I’ve never done this. You’re so fucking sexy. I can’t believe this is happening.” She repeated it more than once.

Eileen tasted as clean as mountain spring water. Moira enjoyed taking her time, her hands kneading at Eileen’s breasts through her black satin bra.

Eileen’s pussy outlasted her patience for the countertop. She lunged up and both women fell haphazardly to the floor. They ended up on the carpet of the adjoining living room, a tangle of legs and half-discarded clothes in the dim glow of a modem’s status lights.

“Kiss me,” Moira grunted. “Taste your pussy on me.”

Eileen was not shy about obliging. “That’s so fucking good.”

If Eileen really had never experimented with a girl before, she had definitely been depriving herself. Moira allowed herself to wonder for a moment if this was something she could have loved even without Devin’s help, if she had really given it a chance. The tragedy of an inhibited life.

“I want to taste you,” Eileen was saying, teeth hot against Moira’s ear. Moira nodded, shimmying out of what was left of her skirt and panties.

Moira let the girl go at her own pace. Her own first time fucking another woman wasn’t so long ago. She remembered how important it was to savor it.

Eileen had a talent for it. She wasn’t as precise and deep as Emily usually liked to go, nor as wantonly passionate as Maddy, who ate pussy like she was wielding a flamethrower. Rather, Eileen was exploratory. Her tongue and lips ran over Moira’s pussy like an architect doing research on a treasured building. Nothing was to be left unsearched.

Moira giggled her way right into three orgasms, each quick on the heels of the last. After the third, even Moira’s catlike strength was exhausted. She pulled Eileen up to kiss her, the two of them entwining there on the floor. Moira breathed deep of her scent, covering Eileen’s face. It smelled like power.

“That was amazing. Here… Lie back. I want to make you cum.” Trembling, Eileen settled herself down on the carpet. Her hands self-consciously roamed her whole body, finally naked now.

“Relax,” Moira reassured her. “You’re so beautiful. You’re gonna love this.” Both were true. Eileen’s bright red lipstick was a dark, inviting curve on the glow of her pale skin. The dim blue light only accentuated her severe beauty.

Eileen closed her eyes and nodded, centering herself. Moira took the opportunity to reach over to where her purse lay on the floor and fish around in it. After only a moment she pulled out her phone, along with a pair of nullifiers.

She remembered Devin’s warning to her. “This is a lot of trust I’m putting in you,” he’d said. “Only use it for this one thing.” The memory of him giving her orders made her smile. If she hadn’t already been in the mood for sex, that thought alone would have gotten her there.

The phone’s hum kicked up and passed the threshold of hearing in a heartbeat. Eileen blinked heavily, but otherwise didn’t seem to notice.

Moira didn’t waste any more time. The unsuspecting intern in front of her didn’t need any more warming up or teasing. Moira could just enjoy herself.

Her tongue slid into Eileen’s pussy as deep as she could get it. Her upper lip worked against the girl’s clit. Her entire face was awash in heady, sweet scent. Little cries escaped Emily’s lips, encouraging Moira along. Eileen’s fingers clawed for a grip on Moira’s hair, little of it though there was. Moira grabbed Eileen by the hip bones to hold her in place while she writhed.

“God, Moira. You’re so good. So good at that.” Eileen struggled for breath. “Please, I wanna cum for you.”

There was no rush. The longer the broadcaster worked, the more pliable Eileen would become. Devin had warned Moira that there was a risk of permanent brain damage if someone was exposed for too long at once—which was the reason he tended to work in multiple shorter stages, easing someone into their conditioning—but Moira didn’t care about that so much with Eileen. She wouldn’t leave the girl a vegetable, of course, but breaking her ability to think in complex ways was just fine.

After all, she was just a fucking intern. She was nobody. She was poor. She didn’t matter.

After twenty minutes of relentless licking, Moira noticed that Eileen’s writhing had weakened. Her cries were less of a punctuation and more of a constant, undulating moan. She’d cum at least twice. That should help things, too.

Moira slowed to a stop and Eileen didn’t protest. “How you doing up there, baby? Think you’ve got another one in you?”

“I don’t know,” Eileen whispered. “My whole body is numb.”

“That’s a good sign.” Moira gave the girl’s slit a long, luxurious lick. “That means you’re doing it right.”

“It feels right,” Eileen agreed. “I can’t believe how good that feels.”

“That’s what it’s like to be with a woman. Now that you know, you can have this all the time.”

“Now that I know what?” Eileen wondered into the ceiling.

“Now that you know you’re a lesbian.”

There was a small pause. “I’m… I’m not a… I like men.”

Moira laughed, her nose bumping against Eileen’s clit. “Does this look like you’re into men?”

“This was just an experiment. Momentary.”

Moira crawled up Eileen’s body with predatory patience. “No, baby. It wasn’t. This was an awakening. This is how you finally get to admit what you are.”

“What am I?” Eileen’s voice trembled.

Moira nibbled on the intern’s nipple for a moment, dragging her boobs across Eileen’s prone body. “Isn’t it obvious? You’re a little lesbian slut.” Eileen groaned in wordless agreement. “You like the sound of that, huh? You can’t deny it. You need to fuck women, all the time.”

“Yes,” Eileen nodded. Here eyes stared at the ceiling, unblinking.

“My little slut. So eager to fuck whenever you can.”

“Yes.”

“Your old life is over. The life where you were into men, where you made your own choices as to who you fucked. All gone.”

“All gone.”

“This is the start of your new life. Your lesbian life. Your slutty life.”

“My new life.”

“Exactly. And who helped you start your new life?”

There was a longer pause. Eileen was clearly having trouble forming thoughts of her own. “You did?”

“Exactly. I helped you. I showed you what you really are.”

Eileen’s head lurched slightly in what might have been a nod. “Thank you. I mean... Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, sweetie. I’m so glad I could help. And now you’re so grateful to me. You want to help me, too. However you can.”

A tear streamed down Eileen’s cheek. “Thank you,” she repeated.”

The sight of this bright young woman, fresh faced in the big city and full of dreams, laying naked and nearly comatose on the floor roused something in Moira. She was drunk with booze and drunk with power. It was impossible to keep the wicked grin off of her face.

“My life deserves to be easy. I deserve to get what I want. And you want to help me with that.”

“How… How can I repay you?”

Moira surged with lust. “Oh, you’ll find a way. You’ll spend your whole life finding a way.”

“My whole life?”

“Mmm hmm. You’re so happy and so grateful that now you’re obsessed with me. You need me. You need my approval. You need to please me.” She leaned down and kissed Eileen’s dark red lips. “I’m your ideal woman. I’m the most beautiful, perfect, brilliant woman in the world. All you want is to make me happy.”

More tears streamed down Eileen’s face. “Yes. I need you. Please.”

The girl’s rapturous despair just egged Eileen on. “Look at me. Look at my body. This is the world’s perfect body. Taste my pussy. It’s the only one that can ever truly satisfy you.”

“Please. I need to taste you.”

The broadcaster was hammering into Eileen’s brain. She could be losing IQ points by the minute. Moira didn’t care. She scooted up and brought her pussy to Eileen’s lips, sitting on her face. “Eat my pussy, slut.”

Eileen didn’t need any encouragement. She groaned into Moira’s pussy lips, bliss written on her face. It was sloppy with lack of coordination—the broadcaster’s influence—but enthusiasm was what counted right now.

“That’s a good girl. That’s my good girl,” Moira cooed. “You’ll do whatever I say. Anything I want.” She bucked her hips, smearing her juices across Eileen’s face. The younger girl’s makeup ran. “I’m the only important person in your life. You want to please me. You want to do everything I tell you to.”

Eileen slurped happily at Moira’s pussy, and Moira took a second to just enjoy it. “Open your eyes, baby. Look at me.” Moira was gratified to see the vacant look in Eileen’s hooded eyes. She remembered what it was like, being this deep under the broadcaster’s influence. Devin thankfully hadn’t overdone it with Moira, leaving her as sharp as ever. Moira hadn’t set out to crack Eileen’s intellect, but now that she was here, it was an alluring idea.

“Good. That’s a good little empty-headed slut. Eat my pussy and obey me. That’s where you belong. Underneath me, giving yourself up for me. You know why? Because you’re nothing. You’ve always been nothing. Someone told you that you’re smart, that you could work hard and get ahead? Bullshit. You’re just some poor little girl, trying to rub off a little power. But you don’t have power. You don’t have money. You’re fucking common. The only thing you’re good for is making money for your betters. Serving your betters.” She reached down and grabbed Eileen’s hair, hard. “Tell me: Who’s better than you?”

Eileen gasped, pussy juice mingling with her tears. “You… better than me.”

Moira laughed savagely. “For one, yes. Now get back to it.” Moira wasn’t going to cum again, but she was enjoying this beyond any simple orgasm.

“Your boss, though, he doesn’t believe me. He thinks that everyone should have equal rights. He’s an idiot. He’s wrong. Rich people are better. Corporations are better. They deserve all the rights, and common losers like you deserve none. Your boss is an idiot, and he’s wrong. Tell me you agree.” Eileen mumbled something, inaudible against Moira’s wetness. “Good. He needs to be stopped. Congressman Derrester is bad and we need to stop him. You have no rights. You want to help me take all your rights away. Everyone’s.”

Eileen wetly agreed again. “Good slut,” Moira encouraged her. “Now, you may be a worthless bitch, but you’re going to spy on Derrester for me. You’re going to report back to me everything that they’re planning, all the agreements they’re making, all the meetings they’re taking. You’re going to be my little slut on the inside. You’ll pretend to still be a loyal intern for them, but really you’re going to be my devoted little spy, aren’t you?” Eileen hummed against Moira’s pussy, her eyes draining of any spark. “You’ll listen and watch. You’ll make copies and record calls for me. You won’t get caught, you won’t let yourself. And you’ll never tell anyone about me. But when I call, you’ll tell me everything I want to know. If you do a really good job, I’ll let you enjoy my body.”

Moira knew that her old self, her boring self, her pre-Devin self, would have absolutely hated this. She knew that she hadn’t always believed this or wanted it. She even knew that the reason she liked herself more now was because Devin had made her. That didn’t stop her from liking it, though. From loving it. If only her old friends could see her now. How horrified they would be.

Reluctantly, she pulled her pussy away from Eileen’s mouth and laid down on top of the young brunette. Eileen’s breath came in deep, ragged gasps. Her eyes stared unseeing into the darkness. “Now tell me… What will you do?”

For a long moment Moira was afraid that Eileen couldn’t respond. Gradually, though, she formed words. “Everything you say.”

“Wonderful. Such a good, broken little slut. You’re going to love betraying your friends for me.” She tweaked Eileen’s nipple, hard enough to make the girl grimace. “Now. Let me tell you about a man named Devin.”

* * *

Devin checked the clock. Almost two in the morning. Moira should be well on her way to subverting the girl from the majority whip’s office. There was no rush; he was enjoying a little late-night reading, wrapped up in a dressing gown and slippers.

In truth, he was also fairly nervous about how things would go with Moira. This was the first time he’d ever put his tech into the hands of one of his devotees. Hell, until Emily and Moira no one else had ever known about his tech. He’d given Moira precise instructions on how to use it. The last thing he needed was an institutionalized coma patient. Or worse, a mad woman roaming free with a version of Devin’s broadcaster.

Still, it was a fair risk to take. His girls were a good way for him to exert influence without exposing himself directly. He preferred the shadows for a reason; now he could stay there more reliably.

Emily was sprawled out on the couch across from him, resplendent in a cherry red thong, stockings, and corset top that made her already enormous chest erupt outward. A little of Devin’s cum remained on her cheek from an hour prior. Devin had ordered her to stay in the outfit, but the cum was her idea. She claimed that both things made her feel delightfully slutty.

She’d taken to staying at his brownstone more often than not, both because it made it easier planning their next moves, and because they enjoyed being around each other so much. Devin was no stranger to fucking the elite of elite women the world had to offer, but having the world’s most successful beauty queen kneeling nightly at his feet was a special treasure.

He looked over at her, admiring that tall, statuesque body for the thousandth time, only to find his private smile fading. For the last half-hour Emily had been cheerfully poking around on some website called Boobpedia, where she’d been delighted to find an page dedicated to herself. Despite grousing that they’d gotten her cup size wrong, she was still happy to be included. “The first ever congressional representative-slash-boob rating crossover,” she’d declared.

But now she just scrolled away at her tablet, reading something, a worried expression on her face.

“What’s wrong?”

Emily didn’t look away from the screen. “Nothing.”

“Slut, look at me,” Devin admonished her. “Tell me.”

She hesitated. “I’m… I’m not sure. Maybe nothing.”

Devin wasn’t sure which was more troubling: her distress or her unwillingness to answer him. “Show me what you’re reading.”

With reluctant slowness, she handed over the tablet. It showed a news article with a straightforward headline: “Congressional Beauty Queen’s Scandal Deepens,” with the sub-headline, “Miss Congress in Distress.”

Devin didn’t understand. Those sorts of articles came out every day about her. The nation was in an uproar over Emily. Many decried her as a villain and a traitor. To others she was a prophet for a new age of politics.

“I don’t understand. What’s so upsetting about this?”

“Maybe nothing,” she evaded. Devin was about to outright order her to come out with it, but she stopped him. “Can I have a few minutes to myself? I need to think.”

This was unprecedented. Devin wondered if they were in danger. Was she somehow trying to break away from him?

But curiosity got the better of him. “Sure. Take all the time you need.” He wanted to see how this all played out.

For the next forty-five minutes, Emily paced the ground level of the brownstone, deep in thought. Occasionally she would re-read something on her tablet, but for the most part she could have been a hundred miles away. Whatever had spooked her was complex indeed.

Devin was once again glad that he hadn’t decided to fully dumb her down as part of the conditioning. A little relative intellect calibrating helped the medicine go down, so to speak, but Emily’s genius mind had proved invaluable to him since their first few sessions together. The deductive look on her face was oddly erotic when paired with her elegant boudoir attire.

Devin read the article in full, searching for clues. It covered a broad range of topics, with quotes ranging from Emily’s family and old friends to current lawmakers and activists. What had so spooked Emily, he couldn’t suss out.

She roamed all over the house, her curves swaying in a hypnotic way of their very own. At long last Emily came back into the living room and approached Devin. He looked up from his reading at her expectantly. She sank to her knees on the plush rug in front of him, exactly where he had told her that she belonged.

“You know I’ve never asked you for anything,” she began. “You know that I wouldn’t, unless it was really important. For both of us.”

That sounded suspicious to Devin. “I know that,” he answered cautiously.

“I think I might need some help from you now.”

“Emily, this cryptic bullshit has got to go. Tell me what you need.” This independent streak she was feeling tonight was strange, but it couldn’t be anything too bad. They’d set themselves up too well for something huge to take them by surprise.

Emily took a deep breath and shook out her hair. Her expression was as serious as they came. “Around three hundred million dollars.”

TO BE CONTINUED….