The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Despite the drama before and after the shows, the results were clear. Christy’s album still spent three weeks at the top of the chart before Leslie Swords passed her, only to regain the top spot after a weeklong push by the marketing department, then losing it again when the corporate machines kicked in. Every show was sold out well in advance- both Christy’s and Leslie’s. Most radio stations were calling it the new civil war, Leslie’s bubblegum versus Christy’s sour lemon. Christy glared at anyone who made that comparison in her hearing, but Melinda bought lemon Warheads for the staff in every city until Christy ordered her to stop.

The public seemed to be the only winner on the small scale, but on the large scale everyone knew better, and the core staff tiptoed around, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Engineered albums. Three more on the way, four of the top five, but that fifth- gee, I wonder who that can be, Madonna?” Sasha teased, detremined to get the casual Christy Reed back for even a split second. Even a slight flash of that joyous beautiful smile would be enough to send Sasha into a blissful swoon that would require her to touch herself to get any sleep that night.

“No talent hack. Better not be. Or didn’t you know she’s tryin’ to make a comeback too, that New York Jew who was named after a Catholic and born in Michigan? Well, to each their own,” Christy said, having none of Sasha’s cheap humor. She held out an imperious hand, and Sasha passed over the newspaper. “Let’s see who’s on the list now with our little tail chaser. Rap ghett-ho- oh, some chocolate for a change, nice to see them being less racist than usual-Leslie wannabe, Leslie herself, yours truly, country tramp, emphasis on the cunt. Different pussy, same old cathouse. Guess people need some alternative before they head on out to Silicone Valley. Just like the real world, huh?” Christy’s smirk, even if it wasn’t the sweet smile Sasha had come to love, was enough for Sasha to grin back at her.

“I missed that smile,” Christy said.

“I could say the same thing,” Sasha replied.

“I know it hasn’t been easy for you, but I’d be in a worse state without you. You keep me goin’. Yes, someone like me can play favorites. That’s how you got here by my side. Oh, I have my favorites with the boys too- and don’t you make the jokes ‘bout Hank havin’ the bigger guns. I know your tastes that way too. I’m just sayin’ thanks, and hang in there.”

Sasha held her composure for a moment, but only for a moment, before she threw herself at Christy in a giant hug that Christy returned with just as much emotion. “I was so afraid you were losing yourself! I know how much of a mess everything is, and I don’t want to think about what’s coming next, but at least we’re still on top,” she said, near tears.

“It’s progress, but it’s progress I don’t want to see,” Christy said, and the smile fell away from her face in a moment as the paranoia returned.

“Lord have mercy. She’s doin’ the Dome and I’m doin’ Philips? That’s one way to make sure ain’t no one can get to either gig,” Christy complained as they rolled past billboards on their way into Atlanta.

“Both shows sold out in fifteen minutes,” Sasha pointed out. “Your demand was a lot higher. Local staff reported that a lot of people went to the Swords concert only because they couldn’t get tickets for yours. I guess they all wanted to do something special.”

“Times like this, you remind me you’re from Chicago. You never drove 95 when there’s an event, let alone two next door to each other. Might as well just set up shop in a park and busk. More people’d hear me there than can get to either gig. You thought Woodstock was a joke? This is going to be a disaster! This will kill Swords’s career and hurt mine to where I’m back doing amphitheaters. And that’s if the highway patrol don’t contrive some way of makin’ sure neither of us can set foot in the state of Georgia again for snarlin’ traffic this bad!” Christy lamented, pacing back and forth in her dressing room.

“So we have the opening act do an encore, have the roadies do some slow fancy work with the lights, maybe do some spoken word before the full performance. Meanwhile, they’ll be rushing on their tight, precise, mechanical schedule, screwing things up left right and center, and messing up the sound board in that big old pit,” Sasha said reassuring her.

“Besides, you’re the one encouraging mass transit. It’s Leslie’s idiots who are gonna be stuck on the freeway,” Melinda pointed out. “You’ll come out of it with a major PR boost.”

“Never thought of it that way. Still awkward for other- shit! HANK!” Christy yelled, cutting off her train of thought when she saw the shadowy figures in the loading dock.

“I see them. And her. I’ll ask them what they want. The nerve of those...” Hank trailed off, his jaw set, watching Leslie’s entourage head into the arena. “Don’t go anywhere without my lead and five of my guys.”

Christy, Sasha, and Melinda waited in the bus until Hank gave an all clear, and even then, he stood in front of the bus door until the rest of the detail was gathered and they could head into the arena.

“Why all the trouble? We come in peace,” one of the men in suits said with an oily grin as Hank led the group down the hall. Hank never removed his hand from his holster.

“With the way your girl shrieks in all of her songs, I doubt she’s ever come in peace for anything,” Sasha bit back with Christy’s sense of humor. Her heart fluttered when Christy chuckled.

“Very funny. We’ve come to let you know we’re pushing back an hour to accommodate the traffic mess. Highway patrol will be letting everyone know about the change, so don’t start late yourself,” the man said with precision.

“Wasn’t plannin’ to. Y’all were the ones stomping on my bookings, y’all can be the ones to work around issues,” Christy snarled.

“I have to commend you for getting your tour faster than we did. But you must understand that we need the weekend dates with our younger demographic, so it was bound to happen. I assure you that there are no hard feelings at our end. In fact, we thought you might like to meet your competition. Leslie, this is Christy.”

“Hey there! Are you going to buy my new album? I love my music, especially all my friends at Senate Records! Have you heard my new single?” Leslie chirped, bouncing with every endorsement, and her enhanced breasts and short schoolgirl skirt bounced with her. Hair too golden to be natural fell in perfect waves around her angel face.

“I’ve had southern fried chicken shit before. You tryin’ to show off how much of a corporate whore she is? Or you just can’t have her off her leash ‘cause she’d wander out into trafic without a minder?” Christy snapped.

“Christy Reed? I think your music is the best! It inspired my new hit about driving in my new Hyundai,” Leslie went on, not noticing the actual conversation.

“Oh, option B. Well, ain’t that special. Completely marketable ‘cause all she is is a marketing machine. How’d you boys do it? Use her necklace to get her stupid- well, stupider- then have the subliminals in her headphones while she lays down tracks? Can’t forget the boob job, of course. Fog her brain with a little perfume, too- bet y’all have to have gas masks around the dressing room. Those normal bleach streaks in her hair, or did you add sparkles to that as well?” Christy asked, dead serious.

“Privileged information. If you do decide to join us, you’ll have an opportunity to read her contract. She knew everything going in, and it made her millions. She might only last one or two albums, but that will leave her with millions in the bank. She’ll wake up with millions of fans and not a care in the world. Is that the life or what?” the man said with a smile.

“Whatever. Good luck, Leslie. I’ll be sure to try everything,” Christy said, talking down to her in the most mocking tone she could find.

“Yay!” Leslie squealed.

Christy turned away in disgust. Sasha ran ahead of her, located the nearest restroom, and held the door open so that Christy could run inside and be sick.

“I doubt they’re all like that. Who knows? Maybe she was just playing along to scare you,” Sasha said, trying to keep her own sanity.

“Look into her eyes next time,” Christy suggested as she cleaned up.

“I’m not Bree, I don’t get off by getting zonked by random floozies with shiny objects.”

“I meant that that there’s no there there anymore. He talked about when she wakes up- that child’s never gonna wake up, not really. Best she’ll manage is a breakdown like Carrie had. They broke her. Probably the way I guessed, except maybe with more drugs. Keeps her nice and empty, just in case a thought somehow sneaks into her head. I’ll bet she’s got a chemist as her chef. Course, she don’t know it. She doesn’t know anything.”

Sasha looked at the bitterness written on Christy’s face and decided that there was nothing she could say to make the situation any better. She gave Christy a pat on the shoulder and got back to her work.

The concert was sold out. Everything went off without a hitch, while Leslie’s double booking still backfired. Rumors about technical issues and logistical nightmares caused by the traffic filtered in after the show, but all Christy could do was complain about what her opponent was. “She can’t be more than just turned eighteen, Sasha. What else are they doin’ back there? You don’t get it and I don’t expect you to. It’s not what I do, it’s who I am. I’ve always treated you as a friend, someone I know sacrificed part of their will to help me reach the top, but this is something I don’t know if you can understand. I’m a controller. So are they, but what they do is now the rule, not the exception. I read the journals, and... I don’t know how long I can last. I don’t mean on the charts, either. Not anymore,” Christy said, her voice shaking, her body wracked by shudders. Sasha drew her in for a hug, and that was enough for Christy to compose herself and go on to the backstage performance.

As the line formed, Sasha pulled Melinda aside. “We need to do this. Come on. I don’t care if she breaks us or fires us or whatever, we need this done,” she said, pulling Melinda by the hand to the loading dock and pulling out the keys to one of the cars.

“I might agree with you if I knew what we were doing,” Melinda replied.

“Getting Christy forgiveness,” Sasha said with determination fixing her face in a mad grin. The strange thing was that it seemed like the song in her head was telling her to do this, like it was something Christy would want her to do.

“Back out to Macon?” Melinda said, and Sasha watched as Melinda put on the ‘fearless’ face like a mask.

“Back out to Macon,” Sasha confirmed, turning the key and hitting the gas.

The ride was quiet and tense, both of them feeling the growing conflict between disobeying Christy and trying to help her. Sasha suspected that if she had said a word, any word, it would have been enough for her to talk Melinda into turning the car around and abandoning the whole mad idea. But the conflict made it hard to talk at all. Melinda reached for the radio, but pulled back with her hand twitching like it was caught in a spasm.

“First Methodist Church of Macon, Steven C. Reed, pastor,” Sasha read out as they arrived. She got out of the car, followed closely by Melinda, and rang the bell.

Despite it being after midnight, he answered promptly. “Christy here?” he asked, pulling his purple robe more tightly closed over his shorts and white undershirt.

“No, she’s still in Atlanta. It’s just... I’m her friend. Well, more than her friend. Not like that. We’re not lesbians. Well. Um,” Sasha stammered.

“We’re her servants, okay? You know what she is. You raised her. She comes by every tour. We’re her closest advisors, and, well, she’s in trouble,” Melinda said, stepping in to assert herself a little bit better than Sasha was managing.

“Trouble? Our little girl? Never,” the pastor said, sounding surprisingly meek.

“Not like that. She’s going crazy. All the competition doing what they’re doing... it’s not good for her, and we think she may need someone to help her out,” Sasha added.

“Competition? Well, there’s only one Christy Reed. A strange little girl, but such a nice girl. Don’t understand half of what she sings about, but as a man of God, I’m not supposed to know about all that. Glad to hear she’s doing well. Ain’t gonna be another like her,” the pastor said with a media perfect smile.

With a sinking heart, Sasha understood what Christy was asking for forgiveness from every time she came home. “Yeah, there’s only one Christy. Sorry to wake you up at this time of night for nothing. We’ll let you get back to bed,” she said with a sigh.

“It’s not always like the movies,” Melinda said gently. “Risking it all doesn’t always pay off. I know what you saw, though. How could she avoid it? Every day when she practiced. I’ll bet half the time she was pushed to sing because her parents needed more of her voice. Of course she broke them. I saw what you tried to do and it was a good idea. She’s losing her mind. I guess we should do the noble thing and go home on the next flight.”

Sasha broke down and sobbed into Melinda’s shoulder on the steps of the church. “No, no, damnit, it’s more than just her influence! Not to me! I love her! I can’t tell if it’s real or just her music, but does it really matter? No it doesn’t really matter, not at all! Damnit, I can’t see her like this, scared of her own shadow, not knowing what’s real and what’s some conspiracy and what’s her mind playing tricks on her. No, I have to tell her why I did this personally. I’ll probably be on the flight before yours, knowing her-if she doesn’t snap and kill me..” Her arms tightened around Melinda until Melinda made a small squeaking noise.

“I know what you mean. We have to protect her, even if it means our lives, even if it means going above and beyond whatever else she asks us to do. Seeing her self-destruct like this is heartbreaking. That’s why she’ll let us go. It’ll be for us because we gave in to the pressure.”

“Fearless?” Sasha asked.

“Scared shitless. But fearless to the rest of the world,” Melinda said with a half-smile as she got into the car and they drove back to Christy for what they thought would be the last time.

“I’ve been that bad. I’ve been so bad that you thought you needed to get out of the box and reach out to those who knew me best. I bet you think I’m gonna snap and let you go- or worse, keep you as a thing. You should know me better than that. I know it’s been rough, and it ain’t gonna get better. It’s only going to get worse and we all know it. So if this is your way of tellin’ me you can’t take any more, I thank you for your time. But now that you know just how long I’ve been doin’ this, I ask you for two minutes to think ‘bout why I feel like I do, and you can figure out why I fear everyone at the record companies,” Christy said in her most commanding voice. It held Sasha and Melinda still as they stared at her. “Tell me why you did what you did. I have to know.”

“You’re just as destructive as the people you fear and you know it. You can destroy me with a thought. With a single note. And you don’t. You see it as a higher calling not to, and you see the producers encouraging it as murder. You’ve had a great career and you see worse coming at you every day. You’re trying to be your father’s daughter when you’re in a world he would condemn without hesitation. We were going to tell them about Leslie, and what had been done to her, and what that meant for you. Yeah, it’s late, but we’ve been that worried that you’re going to snap, or worse,” Sasha explained.

“Melinda?” Christy said, not giving away anything by her tone.

“She said everything better than I could.”

“I’m not lettin’ you slide that easy. If she said it better, then say it the way you’d say it.”

If this hadn’t been an interrogation, Melinda would have sighed. “You were born this way. With power comes responsibility. Now you see guys using your power like a five-year-old finding daddy’s Colt. And you know someone will get killed if they haven’t already. It’s a lot of weight for one twenty-two-year-old. We thought someone could help. We weren’t sure if we could.”

Christy sighed and shook her head. “Only you two could manage to go completely behind my back and scare the living daylights out of me while thinking of me and only me. That’s a frightening thought, but you did it in such an act of defiance that I know it goes deeper than just my power over you. I’m gonna show you something in return, something damn near sacred to people like me. You won’t understand it, but you’ll recognize it. Even though it’s something I’ve known by heart since I was young, I keep the pattern for that day when my voice loses power and I need to adjust. If I get a resister, I can move things around. But to a real siren, it’s not how you do your true lullaby, it’s what it is. It’s the spiritual connection to the words that makes it so powerful and so overwhelming that no one can resist, not even yourself,” she said. She reached into her desk and took out a red envelope, passing it to Melinda first. Melinda opened it, shrugged, and passed it to Sasha.

Sasha opened it up, glanced at the top, and understood at once who Christy really was: that innocent girl with dreams bigger than Sasha’s she met on the bus the moment she woke up. She hugged Christy as hard as she could, then bowed to her out of respect. Melinda raised an eyebrow at her reaction, but also welcomed Christy’s forgiveness, and nothing else was ever mentioned about their trip to Macon.