The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Last of the Independents

Chapter 10: The Right Hand

There’s no where to hide. They stole the love from our lives to put the sex on the radio.

“Signals over the Air” — Thursday

By the time they finished the New York metro area, Sasha had turned over her whole team. She balanced top PR sharks with translators and multilingual specialists who would help spread Christy’s music all over the world. “We already have America—let’s take over the world!” she said with a huge grin as she faced her new unit. All of them had, of course, been brought under by Christy, but had a more personal connection to Sasha. She had thought twice about it more than once, but it was strictly business, and she knew she would be loyal, so they would be loyal because of her. She had done the right thing. She told herself that over and over again, letting it sink in along with Christy’s CD as they approached Christy’s plane.

“Whoa! I thought the mansion was something!” she blurted out at the sight of the black and purple paint job. Even old hands like Jan were impressed at the sight of the thing. The regular staff loaded in coach, while the core staff gathered around for their tickets.

“The Mile High Club is closed for this flight, kids. Compression messes with my voice,” Christy teased, kicking back in the front row of first class while everyone found their seats.

“That’s a relief. I’d hate to think of what we’d be like right now if it didn’t. No better than the crew in coach, right?” Jan sniped. She kept a short leash on her anger, but it was clear to anyone who knew her that she wasn’t comfortable with the changes.

“Staff’s always been loyal to their head honcho,” Christy dismissed. “Might could be a little closer than before, but I’ve always liked havin’ a little space from the adoring mob. If we’re gonna put everyone on leashes, it only makes sense for the core to hold the other end. Means it’s easier for them to leave me if they want to or if they can’t take it anymore—there’s just a little separation. Don’t know if they boys are into that sort of thing—”

“Not happening,” Herm interjected.

“And it’s not like we’re running a label. It makes them work harder without wearing down,” Melinda said. Christy showed a hint of a smile, and Jan showed nothing at all. Sasha watched the by-play, then looked down at her ticket to confirm what she had already guessed—window seat next to Christy, and Melinda in the aisle.

“Ohmygod!” Melinda squealed like a fangirl, and Sasha grinned stupidly.

For the long flight, Christy was mostly content to be in happy-go-lucky youngster mode, joking with everyone throughout the movie and even helped Lisa trip one of the stewardesses to get a glance up her skirt for laughs. But near the end of the trip, she turned serious.

“Orlando, then the dancers... you two had one hell of a US trip. Like it or not, damn near everything’s gonna come back to media relations now. You two play off each other perfectly. Don’t know if you’ve noticed it, though you’re both smart enough for it. I love it, and I’m gonna need it. Jan’s leaving after this tour. She already told me. She worked better with less specialized workers. You’ll be taking over a lot of that. I’ll still bring in an HR person for roadies and security, just to keep everything straight, but you both know that wasn’t her only job. She was also closest to me. She knew exactly what I did to her—and everything I couldn’t guess ‘bout myself. She’d tell me in a second if I was going too far, if I needed to let someone go ‘cause they were breakin’, or even if I’d managed to break someone and they had to move to the house staff.

“Melinda, you know control that way. Your ‘confidence lectures’ are the talk of the staff—crude, but, hey, if you enjoy it and they enjoy it, that’s all that matters. But you’ve never been to Hollywood. Sasha has, and Sasha knows me as well as Jan did. You’ll be my right and left hands, and y’all can figure out between you which one’s which. I’m sure you can handle both duties.” She flashed the gorgeous, genuine grin that she so rarely showed, but even without it, all Sasha and Melinda could do was nod back with identical looks of starstruck adoration. Her smile broadened further. “Good thing we don’t really need to take too many staff on this trip. You both have a lot to learn, and I don’t know as you’re in any condition to do that right now.”

“Guh,” Sasha offered.

“Oh my God,” Melinda said.

“As I suspected. Rest up. I’ll be needin’ you in London.”

When Sasha woke up, they were in London and the roadies were unloading the plane. A young redhead with her hair styled like Christy’s waved at the crew mindlessly unloading the trucks into the arena. “Oh, look at that dove! Sing me a tune, make me a drone,” she called out. Hank got ready to push her away, but Christy smiled and autographed a piece of paper for her before they moved on.

“Sasha, remember what I told you about England? This is what I meant. They know about controllers. Their royal family’s a bunch of Germans they had as idiot figureheads for hundreds of years ‘fore they eased up on things,” Christy said.

“Weird,” Melinda said.

“You told me, but I wasn’t expecting that,” Sasha said.

“It’s a kink for them. I get more locals here than anywhere in Europe, and it’s not just the language. I have five number ones here, more than in the US. It’s hard to figure, but they like angst and they love sirens. I told you once, Sasha, and I’m tellin’ you both now, if anything ever goes wrong, this is where you go.”

Sasha started to have an inkling of why, but Melinda still looked confused as they went into the dressing room that Christy was using as her office and Christy opened a copy of the Hollywood Reporter. Look at these want ads. Read them close. You might need to read twice, either to do a double-take or to understand their true meaning.”

“Dating personals,” Melinda said dismissively. “’Thirty years’ experience, seeks 17-19-year-old girls for public performance? That’s just gross.”

“Oh, shit. No, Melinda. Not that kind of performance. Well, maybe that kind of performance. They’re looking to knock out girls to create competition for Christy,” Sasha said.

“What?”

“Your first taste of Hollywood comes from the safety of London. Yeah, you do things ass backwards, don’t you?” Sasha snarked at Melinda.

“I didn’t think of it that way, but you’re right,” Christy said. “But it gets worse. Read the one I circled.”

Sasha looked down and turned pale; she was swaying on her feet so badly that Melinda had to steady her. “Dance Factory, one hundred percent pure trance music at all times. DJ Svenhollywood spinning both boys and girls, no uglies, no rejections, all producers welcome. PS: It’s our specialty,” she read aloud.

“What’s so odd about a cheesy nightclub? They’re a dime a dozen. But you wouldn’t unless it... and you took me over by... so Hollywood would... oh, shit. Oh my... madre de Dios...” Melinda suddenly clutched her stomach, and Sasha helped her to the trash can.

“And y’all did figure out what the PS means, right?” Christy added with a note of dread in her voice.

“Porn stars. I’m cute and have a siren’s song bouncing around my brain at odd hours of the night, but I’m not stupid,” Sasha said with an air of defiance, just to show Christy that she could.

Christy sighed, picked up the paper, and slapped it back down on the desk. “So much shit,” she said. “It’s nice here. Maybe you’re right, Melinda. Might could do my own label here. Enough sirens pass through, and it’d be lower profile. I could still do smaller tours. I have enough saved from this one that I could set up everything new in London and still not have to work a day in my life.”

“And the label would keep you away from the producers,” Melinda said, still a little green around the gills but looking stronger with every moment.

“But you’d be one of them,” Sasha said. “Not nearly as cruel as these guys, ‘cause that’s not you, but...”

“I’d have to be closer than you think. You don’t know how many nights I’ve stayed up thinkin’ ‘bout this. I can’t create something that far below me, not of my own free will. Even bringing you guys down as far as I do makes my skin crawl,” Christy said with a shudder.

“But you cut us free and ask first. Even politely! Must be the Georgia in you still,” Melinda teased, determined to make Christy smile.

It didn’t work; if anything, old pain shadowed Christy’s face for a moment before she went on, “Not with other controllers. To use them the way you’d have to for a label to work, you’d have to break them—or they’d break you. That’s the business. Turn the page. I’ll translate if you need.”

“Edie Page, full A-C range Greek Siren class 1 for hire. 25, blonde, has demo, major labels only, group willing,” Sasha read.

“Good enough to get into your head, but Greek means she ain’t subtle ‘bout it and she can’t control for long stretches of time. So she’s scared for her life and wants to go out on her terms. Group willing? She’ll back up some angel whore who can learn a guitar lick and sell her soul,” Christy translated.

“Eric Ross, Class 2 piper with electric guitar already built. Specializes in speed metal and classic rock. 26 in harem, barter acceptable.”

“Barter? Gross,” Melinda said, making a face.

“With the Internet and all the other new technology, like digital mixing, things are getting out of control. You wouldn’t believe how many registered controllers are out there. I can barely believe it. Right here, right now, I’ve gone to where I can’t stop what I’m doing, or we’ll all get swallowed by one of the machines. But I can choose not to go further than that, even if it makes me prey when the predators get worse,” Christy said.

“Kill or be killed,” Melinda said slowly.

“And that’s why Jan wants out. She can keep a little group in line without doin’ what I have to do and what you’re doin’, and she’s a wizard with all the little mundane things, but she doesn’t have the guts to dance on the line and let me know when I crossed it... or when, Father forgive me... I have to cross it with my eyes open. You both do.”

“Fearless,” Sasha said, echoed a moment later by Melinda, as both of them realized what that word, combined with Christy’s song forever echoing in their heads, had done to them.

“Melinda, you set it up, taking advantage of what I was leavin’ behind. Sasha took it as far as I was willing to go. Now we all got tough choices to make. But first, let’s enjoy this trip. May be the closest thing to a vacation any of us get for a long time. Oh, by the way, guess who just had her third single in a row go number one? Guess I’m not doin’ too bad for a preacher’s daughter who’s afraid of her own shadow. Now go lay me a little more groundwork for the next one,” Christy said. Something had hardened in her face, and she was once more the queen of darkness on the stage. Sasha and Melinda knew the roles they had to play as well.

The staff meeting was more intense than when they lost Trish. Everyone knew Jan was leaving; it was obvious even to the newcomers that being there from the beginning had worn her out and a return to a normal life was in order. But everyone seemed happy for her as she left, so Sasha wondered why the mood was so serious.

“Sixteen months by the calendar—might as well be sixteen years by Hollywood standards,” Christy said with a sigh. “1998, my... things have changed that much and that badly. I’ve had to grow the staff, both ‘round you and back at the house. You might not have seen Herm in a while, but he’s still part of the group—went back to the US to round up those roadies to build an extension to the mansion, so you’re still gonna hear his bad pot jokes when you get back. It’s been relaxing and fun here in Europe where they appreciate what I do—sometimes love it a little too much. Sasha, any luck having Lyubov track down whoever leaked one of the backstage songs? No? Have her stay on it. But we’re goin’ back to a strange country. That’s what Hollywood is now, more than it was the last time any of you were there. The guys who made you throw up then have run away with their tails’ tween their legs now, or gotten meaner and nastier for it. Y’all remember Edgar? He retired from the business, moved his sparkle shop to Kansas for small time catch-and-release operations. Offered to be my personal designer, as a matter of fact, but I have enough of a tough time with all y’all not being able to keep your eyes off me. But that’s the world we’re dealin’ with now.”

Nods went all around the table. Christy looked at them to see how much they really understood, then went on, “Full time security will triple, and each member of the core staff will have their own detail. Hank’s done the hiring for that, but y’all reserve the right to tell him if you have a problem with one of his selections. Bookkeeping and business ops will have their own position, but they won’t be mixed in with HR. HR will be closer to what I do backstage and keepin’ an eye on its effects—and on whatever else might be out there. Sorry, kids, but I gotta pull the leash a little tighter so no one gets sucked in by the new devices out there. It’s a two-person job, one watching us and one watching them. Sasha and Melinda have been the closest to me through the tour, so they’re the pick as my new personal assistants.”

Everyone applauded, but Sasha cringed at what her new job really was: half security, half Big Sister, all owned by Christy. It was a huge leap, and while the song in her head kept her smiling, inside she had her doubts. She was a media person, after all, and no matter how much she knew about the inside of Hollywood, letting go of her background would be tough; it was what she loved and what she was best at, and part of her wanted to resent Christy for making her throw away all the hard work she had put in for years People brought up other things and small issues until the meeting drew to a close, but Sasha was still wondering what this would mean for her now. She know that she had been chosen because she could stomach the depravity of Hollywood, and because she was able to handle whatever was thrown at her, but for the first time in a long time, she wondered if she was up to the latest challenge that Christy was throwing at her.