The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Lost Opportunity

Disclaimer: Read no more if you are under 18, if reading this kind of material is illegal under your local laws, or if you are offended by graphic descriptions of sexual activity. This story is for fantasy only, and this story is not to be redistributed, archived, forwarded, redirected, or reposted without express written permission of the author. If you’re reading this anywhere other than mcstories.com, it’s been stolen.

Copyright © 2002-2004 by Le Duc de Kavaliere

Part Five

“A temporal monitor,” I mumbled. “It records my position in time.”

Zelasha muttered something about Star Trek. “What is it counting up to?”

“My point of origin.”

I heard a gasp. “What year is it, Nick?”

“Nineteen ninety-five.”

“What year did you come from?”

“Two thousand four.”

Another gasp. “On the count of three, Nick, you’ll wake up, and no matter what I ask, you will answer me truthfully. You cannot lie to me, Nick. One, two, three.”

Zelasha snapped her fingers. Coming from her, it was a heart-wrenchingly erotic gesture. I blinked a couple of times; I felt like I was coming out of a dream, yet the sexiest woman I’d ever met was still sitting in front of me. Her face wore a perplexed expression.

“How did you get here, Nick?”

“On an airplane.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-nine. Oh Lord, dear Lord, I did not mean to tell you that.”

Zelasha stared at me, bewildered. “I thought you said you were going to be twenty one this year.”

“Well, yes, technically, I will be.”

Zelasha fixed me with those gorgeous lapis lazuli eyes that I loved falling into. “Explain it to me, Nikolai. Now.”

“A couple of days ago I ran into my friend Stewart. He is with this firm who wanted someone to go back in time. I volunteered.”

“Why?” Zelasha demanded.

“To see you.”

Zelasha did a triple-take. “What? Me? Why?”

“Colleen, I’ve been daydreaming about you, and fantasizing about you, and thinking about you, and having dreams about you, for the last ten years. The great lost opportunity of my life was the time I stood you up. I wanted to have that date.”

“Hang on,” she said slowly. “You stood me up?”

“Yeah,” I told her. “I was staying with my brother in Austin, and then my father and I drove to see my cousin in Tallahassee.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“My father wouldn’t let us meet unless he chaperoned. We wouldn’t have had any time to be alone together. He’s a minister. Lord, he’s a puritan fundamentalist. He thinks that God spoke in Elizabethan English and that dating is sinful. I couldn’t apologize to you until a week later, when I finally got a private moment to call you. You were livid. You said you’d waited all day in the hotel room and missed the choir group’s day on the town.”

Zelasha was blinking in confusion. “God, so your other . . . self . . .”

“Is doubtlessly driving eastbound on interstate 10 with my father, yes.”

“Oh, god, oh, oh god,” Zelasha was saying, looking first at me, then at the bed, then out the window. “So you came back . . . for me?”

“Yes, for you.”

“God, Nick, how many trips back in time have you made?”

“This is the first.”

“Oh, god. Nick, do I sing opera?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“What, what happens to me, then?”

I swallowed hard. “You dropped out of school, and moved in with some guy in a trailer park. You told me your in-laws hate you. We lost touch when I graduated from college. Amanda said you got married because you were afraid of being lonely.”

“Oh, oh god, oh my god,” Zelasha said, staring at me. “You, you . . .” A range of emotions played over across her face. “This is crazy! How could you let that happen to me??”

“Darling, I didn’t want it to happen,” I said as I leaned forward and put my arms around her. The redhead buried her face in my shoulder. “I tried a number of times to contact you after I moved to L.A., but I could never find you.” Slowly, I started stroking her long soft hair.

“God, Nick, I want to hate you,” she said into my shoulder, amid deep breaths, “But I can’t. I made you tell me. God, I want you. I want you so much it’s driving me crazy. What were you going to do at the end of the day? Just zip off in your time machine?”

“It doesn’t work like that, darling,” I said. “I think I have to be in L.A. to go back, so I can be at the same place I arrived. I was only supposed to stay in the past for a couple of hours. It’s been almost a day now. They’ve never retrieved a human from the past before, and they’re not sure it’s going to work.”

“But —” Zelasha said. “But — you were just going to spend the day with me, and go back?”

“Well, that was the idea, yeah.”

Zelasha pulled back and hit my shoulder angrily with the palm of her hand. “How could you do that to me? Just come here, fuck me, then let me live out my life in a god-damned trailer park?”

“I didn’t want to, darling,” I said. “But it was your decision. You said you ran out of money for college, and your parents threw you out, and that guy was the only person who you could go to. A few months later you married him. I called you before the wedding, but you wouldn’t talk about us. You wouldn’t let me tell you that I wanted you.”

“God. Why didn’t you say anything when my parents . . . god, my father . . . well, I can believe that about my stepmother. God, the jealous bitch finally got her way. Fuck! Why didn’t you do anything when this happened?”

“I didn’t know, darling. I was on an abroad. I was in Strasbourg.”

“Strasbourg?” Zelasha repeated dully. “But . . . god, you couldn’t find me? So I can’t even get online. A trailer park. A fucking trailer park!” She started pounding on the bed with her fist. “I can fucking see myself doing it, too. After James didn’t fucking want me after he fucking saw me.” James was her first boyfriend, the one she’d just dumped. The one I’d been so jealous of when I’d first met her in chatrooms and found out that she already had an online boyfriend. “God, I don’t want to become trailer trash! God. Shit. Hang on. What year did you say you were from? 2004, right?” At my nod, she continued, “Shit. What happens in Star Trek 8?”

“Oh, it was good. One of the best. It had the Borg.”

“Um . . . Star Trek 9?”

“It was all right. They fought corruption.”

“Star Trek . . . 10?”

“Ugh. It flopped. It was just like Star Trek 5, only with the Next Gen crew.”

“How about, um, Deep Space Nine?”

“Oh, man,” I grinned. “I hated it. I think it peaked in the second season. The writers ran out of ideas after that, and the story got more and more contrived.”

“What else happened?”

“Well, Voyager was all right. The writers were obviously out of ideas there, too, but it held together better than Deep Space Nine. And that show they have now, Enterprise, has potential. It would be better if they had someone with some real vision writing it.”

Colleen’s gorgeous green orbs stared at me in total confusion. I’d lost her.

“I wish I could see all of those things,” she murmured.

“It’ll come, eventually,” I said. “Just don’t bother seeing Star Trek 10 in the theater. Wait for the rental.” And then, I grinned. “You have Star Wars 1 and 2 to look forward to, as well.”

Watching those to-die-for lapis lazuli eyes go totally round was a great experience. I could fantasize for months about this. “Oh, god. What happened? Were they any good?”

“I don’t want to ruin it for you, so I won’t tell you about the plot,” I replied. “But they were good. Not as good as the originals, but still good.”

Colleen ran a hand through her mane of thick coppery red hair, and suddenly Zelasha was back. “Oh, yesss, you will,” she grinned as she held up her pendant again. “You will tell me whatever I want to know. You are under my spell. You cannot take your eyes away from my pendant.” She started swinging it back and forth, swinging, back and forth . . . already my gaze was locked to her pendant, and I couldn’t look away. Maybe it was because I was already under her honesty suggestion. “It is so hard to resist, lover, and is so easy to obey . . .” She was using The Voice again, so unbearably sexy, so compellingly seductive. “Your eyelids are beginning to droop, drooping more and more . . .” Behind her pendant she was grinning that gorgeous crooked smile. “You feel yourself relaxing, getting drowsier, and drowsier, drowsier, and drowsier.” Oh, Lord, Zelasha was hypnotizing me again. “You love being under my spell. Your eyelids are feeling soooo droopy.” Damn, but she was right. It was so easy to obey her murmurs, putting me to sleep, putting me into a trance. “Surrender to my will, Nikolai, my lover. You’re bewitched, enchanted, hypnotized. You will do anything to please me. You cannot resist my words. You cannot resist my voice. Sleep, darling, sleep.” She snapped her fingers, and my eyes slammed shut. “Tell me truly, my lover. Have you been honest with me? Completely honest?”

“Yes,” I heard myself saying.

“Do you want to take me back with you, Nikolai?”

“Oh, lord, yes,” I told her.

“You will take me back with you, lover,” came her mesmerizing voice.

“I . . .” I heard my voice distantly. “I don’t know . . .”

“You must take me back with you, darling.”

“I don’t know . . . if I can . . .”

“Why not, lover?”

“Don’t know if we can. Don’t know if it’s safe.”

“You know it will be safe, my lover. You are convinced of it. You are sure it will be safe to take me back with you. You are going to take me back with you. Tell me, darling.”

“I . . .”

“You must take me back with you. You have no choice. You must obey my will.”

“I . . .”

“Will it be safe for me to come back with you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to come back with you?”

“Yes.”

“You are going to take me with you, lover. You cannot resist your desire to take me with you. You cannot resist my will. Tell me, lover, are you taking me back with you?”

“Yes,” I heard myself mumble.

“Yesssss. Now, lover, when I snap my fingers, you will wake up, and tell me alllll about the new Star Wars movies,” Zelasha giggled.

At her snap I opened my eyes. There, before me, in exquisite nude glory, sat Zelasha. Her lapis lazuli eyes were grinning mischievously at me. “Okay, well,” I began, “it starts out on this planet called Naboo . . .”