The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Lindsay’s Story: Amphetylcholemine Hydropyrinase-5

Chapter 4: Emperor Pants

When I awoke, he was gone. I looked around. The room swung around, then steadied. I lay back; I was on the floor. I was...human. Whatever he had done had worked. I didn’t want to think about it, but I could feel myself settling, beginning to settle, back to normal. The world seemed a little gray, but there was no odd geometry. I sighed. Well – with everything I’d been through, this was probably the most I could hope for.

The focus on shoes and pastry would always be with me, but I could have a life. I could study economics, or anthropology, or culinary arts, as I chose. I looked at the clock: 9:34am. I’d slept half the day and a long night.

Whatever. I stood up and dusted myself off. First thing: coffee. I stumbled towards the kitchen. But I was sweating hard already, and I felt gross. So maybe a shower first.

Hot water. Cold water. Warm water. Clothes off. Step in. Close curtains.

As the hot water poured down over me, I felt myself slip another inch towards normality. The shower stall was tall (my father was 6′7″), with blue-patterned tile, and a purple curtain. Light from the skylight above lit the water so it glowed blue, and there was a moment of transcendental peace. As odd as that might sound.

I stayed in the shower a long time. I never felt like I got completely clean, especially – surprise! – my breasts and genitals, but eventually I gave up on it. Now coffee. I wrapped a robe around myself (the stupid belt wouldn’t stay tied), and went downstairs.

Cameron and Jerry were down there, and I should have gone back upstairs to get some clothes, but I didn’t notice them in the breakfast nook until the coffee was brewing. My concentration was poor – where was the coffee? How much to use? – and my belt kept coming undone. More than once the stupid robe almost fell off. But finally I saw them.

“Sorry, I should get some clothes on,” I said.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, sis,” said Cameron, adjusting his crotch. “We’re all family. We’re going to talk about Jerry’s bunny. Don’t mind us, just drink your coffee. Gray smoke.”

I nodded and sipped while they went on about the bunny, which apparently was doing very well with her obedience lessons. I didn’t really pay attention. I was imagining gray smoke, drifting across the breakfast nook. Wafting, I suppose you would say. Why had he mentioned smoke? Now my brain was full of it.

Smoke would swirl and diffuse, blowing and clouding the air...what had I been doing? It was easy to get distracted around Cameron. The confusion of the past week was largely centered around him, and I couldn’t remember the details at the moment, which wasn’t a good sign. But I was pretty sure there was nothing to be done about it. The feeling of wanting to die had gone away, and I wanted to keep it gone. If staying alive meant letting the details slide, I’d do my damnedest to do just that. Maybe one day I’d feel like myself again. In the meantime, I’d just have to fake it.

“I don’t think I could...I mean, can you just leave me alone with her for a while?” Jerry was saying, still talking about the bunny. But Cameron turned towards me.

“Lindsay, I’ve got you some beautiful pants,” he said. “Emperor pants, they’re called. Very colorful. How do you like them?” He held up what looked like a pair of gorgeous harem pants, all colors in a gaudy paisley pattern. “Go put them on, with a top that goes with them, OK?”

Jerry was staring at me like he’d never seen a woman before. I put my hands on my hips. “What?” I said. He blushed and mumbled something into his orange juice. I grabbed the pants and took them upstairs to change. I needed to get some clothes on anyway.

I was tempted to stay upstairs, and I even booted up my computer to check out some recipes. I really didn’t want to see those two – what were they even doing here, when Mitchell was out? But again I remembered the ungodly suicidal urges I’d felt lately. It would be safest to just go along with what Cameron wanted.

The pants went best with a sheer blouse and no bra. Not what I’d have chosen, but it wasn’t worth worrying about. Cameron could stare until his bug-eyes fell right out. I didn’t care.

The pants were gossamer light, the silk so delicate I felt a breeze across my privates as I trotted down the stairs. Cameron smiled at me in his proprietary way, and Jerry’s jaw dropped. What was it with that guy?

“Let us take a look, Lindsay,” said Cameron, gesturing me over to him. I felt uncomfortably exposed as I got close. “Turn around, let us have a good look.”

Jerry was gulping like a fish out of water as I turned in place. I stared him down again. He had this sly, guilty little smile that I wanted to wipe off his face.

No such luck. Cameron said. “OK, I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it. Jerry, remember what I said. Absolutely NO penetration. You’ve got her triggers and things. If anything goes wrong, just get over yourself and CALL ME. Got it?” Jerry nodded. Cameron went up the stairs.

Jerry swallowed. He couldn’t look up at me. Was he going to sit there all day? “What’s this about?” I said.

“Um. Nothing,” he said, still looking down. “I...I don’t think I can do this.”

“Do what?”

“Um....”

Jesus, he was going to sit there and waffle all day. I reached out and lifted his chin so he had to meet my eyes. I spoke to him like a little child – an annoying child. “Jerry, let’s get one thing straight, can we? I’m the one who’s had my life ruined here. My brain does not work the way it should any more. I can’t always remember what caused it, I don’t understand exactly what the problem is, but I damned well know that something is broken, and it’s permanent. You’ve heard Cameron talk about rewiring my neural networks. Well, AH5 is something of a blunt instrument. I’m just trying to survive, because it made me extremely suicidal. I could go any time, as if you care. You – on the other hand – you’re trying to figure out how best to exploit me in my state of confusion. Excuse me if I don’t feel sorry for you. But since we’ve gotten this far, let’s get on with it, shall we?” And I looked at him with the full force of what had been done to me.

He crumpled. “I’m so sorry, Lindsay,” he sobbed. He leaned forward, and I pulled him to my chest. He held onto me for a while, shuddering, pressing his head between my boobs. I looked out the bay window over his head. It was cloudy. Probably raining over the northwest hills.

He held on like a drowning man, for a long time. When at last he lifted his head, he wiped his eyes and said, “There must be some way out for you. I can’t let this go on.”

He was still kneeling on the floor in front of my chair. I looked down at him. He had his hands on my thighs. “What are you going to do?” I asked.

He stood up and wrung his hands. “Cameron told me all your triggers. Maybe I can direct you...direct you to be free. To take back control of yourself.”

Why was he so annoying? “But I have control of myself. I know you’re trying to help, but –”

“No you don’t. Look at yourself. You’re not even dressed properly.”

I looked down. The harem pants looked pretty good, if you liked that kind of thing. I didn’t have shoes on – big deal.

“Because I’m not wearing a bra? This is my house, you know. I mean, you came here to visit me.”

He stared at my boobs. That must have been it. “A bra?” he said. “Lindsay, you don’t even know what’s happened to you, do you?”

“Maybe not, Jerry, but do I really need to? I’m not that stable, you know.”

“How are you going to get out of it if you don’t know what’s going on? Lindsay, it’s not just that you’re not wearing a bra. You don’t have any pants on!” He was staring at my crotch as if this was obvious. He was even getting an obvious hard-on. But I couldn’t see it.

“What do you call these?” I said, fingering the soft silk of the emperor pants. “Not good enough for you?”

“Lindsay, they’re...they’re not really there. That’s why he called them “emperor” pants. You know the story of the emperor who doesn’t have any clothes?” He leaned forward to touch the material.

I stood up too. “No, I don’t know your stupid story,” I said, sighing in exasperation. “And what did you mean by ‘triggers’?”

“Special words which do things to you. Like if I say, um, ‘snake charmer,’ you get all turned on, or...” The moment he said that, I felt this disgusting little creeper climbing up my ankle.

I shuddered. Yuck. “Well, guess what? I doesn’t work.” I sure didn’t feel turned on. It felt awful.

He cocked his head. “Are you sure? Snake charmer.”

Agh! Another one slithered up the other leg. “Goddammit, would you stop that!” They were getting higher, too, slithering around my legs, and the higher they went, the worse it felt. The first one – on my right leg – tried to slither up onto my thigh, above the knee. I swiped it away, hoping Jerry wouldn’t notice. But it came right back.

“What happened?” he said. “What’re you doing?”

“Nothing!” But they kept coming up me. Do you know what it feels like to have snakes crawling up your legs? I tried to grab one and throw it away from me, but the damned thing bit me! “OW!” Jerry took a step towards me. His hands were reaching out. He wanted to see the snakes. What is this fascination with men and snakes? “What’re you looking at, Jerry? Jesus!” The little fucker had bit me again, right on the inside of my knee.

“Let me try and help. Sit down. Try to relax.” He took my arm and led me over to the loveseat. It felt like my legs were covered in worms under the loose-fitting pants, and I was squirming so bad I could hardly walk the four steps across the breakfast room. I finally collapsed on it.

I looked beseechingly into his eyes. “Can you really do something about these snakes?” I didn’t want to trust him – God knows – but I was getting desperate. I didn’t want to start thinking about my dad’s .38 in the closet....

“Lie back. Let’s take a look at you. Now, where were you feeling snakes?” Fuck. He was trying to play doctor now.

“Under here.” I pointed to where the little beast was slithering up past my knee again. He put his hand where I had pointed, rubbing my leg through the thin silk.

“I don’t feel anything,” he said.

Duh. “Well, it keeps wanting to move up. It’s up on my thigh now. Here.” I showed him again, but where he touched me, wiggly feelings spread from his hand.

“I still don’t feel anything, Lindsay. Are you sure it’s real?”

But I wasn’t listening. It had slithered again, higher up. I pressed my legs together, as hard as I could, but I’d never keep it out that way. I had to grab it. Had to. I felt it pushing up between my thighs, up past his hand, and I made a mad grab. I almost got it – but at the same time, the other one was slithering around on the outside.

“I can make them go away, I think,” said Jerry. He had two hands on my thighs now. It felt horrible, wiggly, jittery, almost vibrating feelings spreading out from his hands. Yuck.

“How?” I said.

“Well, it’s another trigger.”

“Jesus Christ. You and your triggers.”

“Look, Lindsay, I’m sorry, but you don’t seem to be identifying the significance of the triggers in what you’re experiencing.” He kept rubbing his face with one hand, and touching my leg with the other. I think he was trying to make the snake go away. Like it was just a hallucination.

“Maybe I don’t want to be friggered, Jerry, did you think of that? I don’t like it.”

He smirked. “Friggered?”

“Whatever. I’m sick of this. If I wasn’t such a pussy, I’d give you the boob. Boot. Damn it!” The left-hand snake was pushing up between my legs again, getting way too close to my vagina. Fuck. I had to open my legs to make another grab. I got hold of it! Through the sheer material of the harem pants, but I had a good hold. It wasn’t getting away this time. I had it behind the head, and it couldn’t bite. I could hear it hissing. Ha.

I still had the other to deal with. It had snuck around beneath my buttocks.

“Did you get it?” he said.

“Yeah, it’s right here. I don’t know how to get it out from under the pants though.”

“OK, let me help with that part. I’ll grab a hold and get it out for you...”

“I don’t want you sticking your hands in my pants!”

“Well, Lindsay, this is kind of an emergency, isn’t it? I mean, you don’t have a snake in your pants every day....” He was looking at my hand with an unhealthy fascination. But I did need the help if I was going to get the other one before it snuck somewhere I really didn’t want it going.

“Lately I have snakes all over,” I said. “OK. Here, you can reach your hand in here, just don’t look, got it? I don’t have any underwear on.”

He smirked again. Little fucker. “Don’t worry, Lindsay, your honor is safe with me.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” He was reaching his hand into the pants, but at least he was looking at my face instead of my crotch. Then my boobs. Of course. “You got it?”

“I think so,” he said. “But I can’t hold it long, it belongs to you. I’ll just hold it for a moment. I’ll take it out of the ‘pants,’ then I’ll give it back to you, OK?”

“OK.” He pulled it out, still looking at me. Of course, right at that moment, the other snake started crawling around, and I panicked. Do you know what it feels like, having a snake slithering under you, trying to get into unmentionable places? You don’t want to know. I made a couple of spasmodic grabs, but the couch was in more danger than the snake was.

“All right, Lindsay, take this one back, OK?” said Jerry. He was holding it close to himself, right between his legs, with his right hand. He took my hand with his left, and guided it to the snake.

“Do I need to do this?” I asked. The snake was warm, and thick, and it didn’t seem to be moving much. It was hard and stiff.

“Yeah, you do. It’s important that you hold it,” he said. “You don’t need to grab it too hard. Just a nice firm pressure, and pull it up a little, now down. Good. Uh-huh. That’s just to keep it confused. As long as you keep doing that, it won’t get away. Got it?”

Well, it certainly was keeping the snake quiet, so I guess he was right. I kept up the motion while I hunted for the other one.

“Is there another one? I can find it for you,” said Jerry. “I’ve got both hands free. Here, open your legs. I think I see it.” He put his hand right in my vaginal opening!

“Jerry!” I nearly screamed, but he just made that exasperating grin at me. “Not in there,” he said. “But jeez, Lindsay, you’re wet. You sure you’re not enjoying this?”

“Would you shut up? Get your hand out of there!”

“I think I’ve got it!” he said. “Right here. I’ve got a hold of it. See? Right here.”

“Pull it out of my pants!”

“I can’t,” he said, groaning a little. “It’ll get away. Don’t forget to keep up the tugging on the other one, you don’t want it waking up. Here, I think I can pacify this one with a little gentle rubbing. See?” He was rubbing in circles between my legs, the snake pressed right up against me.

I wriggled, and tugged, and wriggled. I was going to lose it. I was going to...I don’t know. Die, I guess. The world was turning brown and yellow, and I knew Jerry had done this to me. He wasn’t helping me. He was going to kill me.

“Oh God,” I panted. “Jerry, please, just let me die. Let me die. I don’t want this any more. Let me – ah!” The snake attached to my clitoris was wiggling, and wiggling, and any second it was going to get away from him, and into me. “Jerry! Hold on!”

But Jerry was stiffening. His snake was stiffening, and swelling, in my hand. “We’ll come together,” he said. “Ready?”

“No!” I started to thrash, but I was pinned. His finger on my clit held me firm, but the snake was wiggling away from under it...I grabbed it, but it was slippery. If only I had my other hand, I might have held it, but I needed his finger to hold it. “No,” I screamed, “PLEASE, don’t let go, don’t –”

“Sammy snake sneaks inside.” And he let it go. I clamped my legs shut and held on for dear life, but my fingers had lost their strength. With a muscular wiggle, it was away, and headed straight for my uterus.

I screamed like a damned thing – well, I was damned. If only I had my father’s gun, I’d have blown the back of my head off before it was over.

My insides clenched, unclenched, clenched, rhythmically, helplessly. The orgasm – if you want to call it that, there should be a dirtier word for it – was more intense than any normal one. It went on, and on, and on, while I yowled and thrashed, and pulled on Jerry’s snake. I was trying to remember not to pull too hard, but I must have hurt it. White stuff came out of the mouth, and made a dark stain on my harem pants.

Then I blacked out. That was the high point of my day.