The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

If any one part of my life ever changed, I would hope that being awakened by someone knocking on my front door would be it. I didn’t know what woke me at first. Alexandria was curled up against me and still asleep. Mandy was behind me and I was on my side. It was a double-spooning.

The knock was there again, but it wasn’t the pounding that had jerked me from my dreams the previous two days. I slipped out of bed, letting the girls sleep. After getting a pair of shorts and t-shirt on, I opened the door a crack.

“Can I help you?” I asked. I wasn’t entirely awake.

“Yes, I’m Agent Davis,” she held up a wallet with an FBI badge. I rubbed my eyes and looked again. The letters stood out in bold relief against the white card.

“Is there something I can help you with?” I asked, stifling a yawn. Why would an FBI Agent be at my front door?

“Are you Ral Setton?” she asked, pulling down her sunglasses. With the morning sun glaring at me from behind her, I couldn’t see much.

I nodded. “Yes.”

“May I come in? I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

I didn’t know what to think, for that matter I was having problems thinking. My dreams wore on me much like the real thing. I opened the door and let her in.

Though the Texas sun was already beating away the cooler night air quite efficiently, I had the AC cranked all the way up in the apartment. The Agent actually shivered a touch after stepping through the temperature difference. I had rubbed my eyes while trying to wake up, so I could pay attention to what she wanted. Behind me a door closed. I knew the others were still there, but it sounded like they heard enough to stay away.

“Do you mind if I make some coffee... um... Agent Davis?” I asked.

She had turned around the room, taking in the details. If she was anything like some of the police I had read about, she could probably spew back the décor with scary accuracy. I didn’t bother looking her over any more than to note her dark auburn hair pulled back in a complex bun. Her outfit was conservative but comfortable for the heat. She probably had to be out and about a lot and took to wearing cooler colors and sleeveless shirts; a pair of tan slacks and sensible shoes for walking rather than pumps for the office. If she wore a gun, it didn’t show. Then again, she was only there to ask questions.

She turned to me and nodded to my question. I started to the kitchen. “You’re welcome to sit and have some if you’d like.”

“Yes, thank you.”

I pulled out the can of grounds but had never actually made coffee for myself. I usually just drank a soda, but I wanted the warm liquid rather than the cool fizz. After finding the filters and pouring enough water into the maker for a full pot, I added a couple of scoops and hit the button to get it going. “So, why would the FBI be interested in visiting me?” I asked as I went back to the dining set.

Davis sat down with a small pad and pen. She flipped through a few pages. “I’m in charge of the serial kidnappings. My team has done some asking around after the last disappearance, and something came to my attention. Where were you on Sunday night last week?”

“I had only just arrived on campus. The taxi driver dropped me off on the north end of the school and I walked to the dorm, Trinity House.”

“Do you remember what time it was?”

“It was pretty late. I had caught the red-eye in from West Virginia. Then the cab ride and finally signed in at the dorm’s front desk.”

“Did you see or hear anything?”

“Well, if you mean on campus, yes. Between the Architecture building and Fine Arts building I happened on a group of girls, two blondes and a brunette. Otherwise, no.”

“Do you remember what these girls looked like?”

“The two blondes, no, I never saw their faces, but the brunette had looked right at me at one point.”

She pulled out a picture from the notebook. “Is this the brunette?”

I looked it over. The smell of the coffee pulled at my attention, calling to me. The face looking back from the picture may have been her. “It was pretty dark in that alley. I could tell what they were doing, but I couldn’t positively identify her. This might have been her, but I don’t know for sure.”

“Take another look, Mr. Setton. Try to remember.”

I looked again. I remembered her vacant eyes, the blissful expression. She looked older than the picture. “It could have been her, but this looks like a younger version.”

Davis nodded. “Yes, this was her two years ago. Her name is Angela Forman, and currently she’s the latest addition to the list of those who have disappeared over the last two years. I’m guessing that you may have witnessed her last moments before disappearing.”

I handed the picture back. “You have to understand something, Agent. I didn’t even know about the kidnappings when I arrived. I thought I was seeing some kind of sorority initiation or something, but not a kidnapping. She didn’t struggle; the two blondes stripped her down and then led her away.”

“Did you see where they went?”

“I didn’t follow, just watched until they turned the corner around the Fine Arts building. I was going the other way and was very tired.”

“So you just stood there and watched? You didn’t say anything or even try anything? New college student and you must have thought it had been your lucky night,” she said with a sly grin.

I couldn’t understand why a federal officer would ask those kinds of questions. What she suggested may have run through my mind that night. “I’ve had a rough life, in the personal relationships department. I didn’t think they would let me join, but at the same time they weren’t chasing me off either.”

She nodded. That sly smile never wavered. “After they left, did you hear any vehicles leaving the area?”

I shook my head. “I didn’t know what the normal sounds for the area were supposed to be like, so I didn’t hear anything out of the normal. But I didn’t see anyone tearing away either.”

“What about the two blondes, would you recognize them?”

I shook my head again. “I never even saw their profiles. It was like they knew I was there and intentionally kept from even turning so I could see part of their faces.” I hadn’t really thought about that part before. It was weird that I didn’t see them glance back at me or even turn so I could see their profiles.

“And the brunette never fought them, never asked for help, nothing?”

I just shook my head.

She jotted down a few notes and crossed her arms. She shook her head as she looked over her notes and concentrated on her thoughts.

I got up and poured each of us coffee, and then carried the two cups, sugar bowl and creamer bowl to the table. Erin had bought a fabulous set and the tray ended up being quite handy. After getting to the table without spilling anything, a feat for me, I put a steaming mug in front of the Agent as she continued going over the notes. Then I stirred creamer and sugar into my cup and sipped some.

Watching her struggle with the mystery, I understood her frustration. Not a single clue had ever been discovered and she was probably hopeful that I would have been the break they needed, a real live witness. The problem was my statement wasn’t any help. I was too new to the area to know what should have been a problem versus something that college students might do for real. The down side was I wanted to help. I wanted the issue resolved just as much as she did. Maybe not for the same reasons but it was the same purpose.

Could I tell Agent Davis about Master PC? No. She would have confiscated my computer for the investigation and the girls and I would have been up a creek. Not to mention that the FBI would have concluded real quick that I might have used it to do the kidnapping and whipped up a quick set of lies to cover my tracks. I just sipped my coffee and continued to stifle yawns so I didn’t look like I was holding anything back.

“Is there anything you’re not telling me?” Either she was better than I thought or just naturally suspicious.

“What could I hold back? I honestly don’t have anything to lie about. Some friends of mine are worried about the kidnappings just like a lot of people. I’ve seen some of the news casts and they’ve told me what they’ve seen. If I had something to give, I would. I’m not the one to catch these guys. If it is guys.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, just that; I saw two blondes and from what little they wore they were certainly women, or at least, very convincingly women. If it is men doing this, they have help from those two blondes. If however, it is women kidnapping women, then the next question is how many of the women disappearing like... well, other women? I would guess it to be a small chance.”

“You’re guessing this just from what you saw?”

I nodded. “from what I’ve seen and what I’ve been told. Every woman taken left behind what was probably every stitch of clothing. After those girls ran off, the pile of clothing included the brunette’s glasses, ear rings, and a watch. I remember thinking about her glasses. Even if it was a sorority initiation, she would need her glasses to see. Maybe even her shoes for walking around campus. It wasn’t normal, but I didn’t know what it could have been. I didn’t know at that time about the kidnappings.”

“Okay, then did any of them say anything?”

“No.”

“The brunette didn’t fight them, even a little?”

“When the blondes finished taking her clothing and put it all aside, they tugged on her. It wasn’t forceful, but she did resist. Another tug and she was following them. That was all the fight she offered.”

“And you didn’t say anything to them?”

I shook my head. I felt like I was answering the same questions over and over. I would have been easier to just share my memories with her, but she was an Agent for the FBI. She was a cop, essentially. It would have led to other questions I wouldn’t want to answer.

I had closed my eyes to rub them. When I looked up again, I noticed something was different about the officer. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but some detail had changed. I sipped more coffee, allowing the warm fluid to run through me, waking me.

She sipped her coffee without having added anything to it and wrote a few more notes in her notepad. After further thought, she nodded as if having made a decision. She flipped it closed and put it back in her pocket. From her wallet, she pulled a business card and held it out to me. “If you do happen to remember some detail or run into another hidden group of girls, please give me a call.”

I reached out to take the card and our fingers grazed. That was all it took. I felt like I had been struck and went rigid in my seat.

Davis had reached out for me. “Are you alright Mr. Setton?” She grabbed my arm to keep me in the chair.

Agent Davis was a hard working woman who lived for the FBI. She was diligent in college and in the training courses. She finished at the top of her class and her first assignment had been the disappearances. Higher authorities had tried to get a higher ranking Agent to take charge of the case after the first ten had disappeared, but she fought and retained the role. It had become her personal agenda to solve the crimes and hopefully return those missing women to their families. In her attentiveness, she had most of the details of the case memorized because it would be easier than having to look up files and read the reports again and again.

I didn’t mean to take the memories. I had been thinking about sharing my own and instead my abilities chose what to do for me. Because Davis had committed all the details to memory, I knew the names of each woman, what they looked like, and when they disappeared.

The information I gathered from her about the case would help me to protect the girls, but there was a more global realization that the flash of memories brought to me. All of the kidnappings had been centered on the underground complex of Vikkor’s.

Agent Davis, Joan Davis, had seen that pattern and went to Vikkor’s store, Viko’s Sensual Play and Lifestyles. She even spoke to Victoria Lasarge about her business and got a list of employees who worked at the store. Joan had run into dead ends for all of the employees as well as Victoria.

Something didn’t feel right about those memories. It was like all the dead ends were screaming to drown something else hidden behind. I pushed and shoved the dead end memories aside, forced my way through them. Behind were records of those employees that had been reported at several of the scenes, but Joan didn’t remember or, more accurately, was being forced to not remember.

All of it happened in a blink of an eye. I knew the answers and could help Joan, or Agent Davis.

She had leaned over the table to study my eyes. “Still not fully awake are you?” That sly grin had returned and still that subtle difference was there. I didn’t know what it was.

“I guess not,” I lied. I was perfectly awake, but what I just saw would scare her and she didn’t need to know about the program. If I could help secretly and protect her without really affecting her, then I would.

She stood up, and as she did so I was pretty sure what the subtle differences were that I had noticed. Her nipples were hard, through her shirt and probably a padded bra. Somehow, I could also detect her scent. I’d never had that strong of a sense of smell, but it was a very distinct aroma. With the number of women I had been with, it was something I recognized and it affected me just as much as seeing the officer in the nude. My Charm was affecting a Federal Agent and I in turn was responding to her. She needed to leave before we started doing something we regretted, or got in trouble for. I was pretty sure fraternizing with a witness or suspect was against some code or law.

“Why don’t you get back to bed for a bit? I’ve got all the information I need for now.” She walked back over to the door. Did her ass sway like that when she came in? She turned and looked my way while still in the doorway. The sunlight behind her formed a halo that justified her beauty in a sensational way. I felt like I was looking at an angel, one of Heaven’s guardians who wielded a sword of justice while looking on with deeply moving eyes.

She turned and walked away but left the door open. I started to get up to close it, but movement on the other side suggested someone else approaching.

Before I got halfway across the room, Carrie poked her head inside. “Ral?” she asked.

“Carrie? How did you find my apartment?” I stopped.

She stepped in with a smile on her face. “I called the number your friend gave me last night and she gave me directions.”

I would have to talk to Renée about that.

With a solid click, Carrie pushed the door shut with her back to it. Effectively, she was trying to keep me from running. I could tell with the look in her eyes and the way she carried herself that my affect on her from the night before still hadn’t worn off. “You sent me home last night,” she said softly.

I nodded, taking in the sight of her. It didn’t appear that she had done anything with her face in the way of makeup. The coloring and tones I granted her when giving her back her face were even more sensual in the soft morning light. She wore a tight sleeveless knit shirt. The shirt might have originally been too small because the knitting spread out in certain areas, like along the sides of her breasts and her shoulders, and I could tell she didn’t have anything on under the shirt. The skirt hugging her hips and upper thighs was tight. With her movement, the skirt had gathered at the bends of her thighs and was dangerously close to not covering anything. Her feet were adorned with simple pumps. With no straps they were easy to remove too. I remembered cooling her fires the night before, but being very close to just taking her. If there hadn’t been an audience...

She stepped away from the door and said, “I didn’t want to go home.” She moved slowly, with a certainty of what was to come. Her long lean legs crossed back and forth as she took each step. Her hands pulled at her skirt, and then moved up dragging her knit top along as she cupped her tits. I had to be drooling. There was no way I could watch such a show and not need a cup to catch the slobber dripping from my lips. I swallowed hard at the thought.

“I would have been happy to share you with all your women if for only one night,” she continued as she lifted her top up and over her head, dropping it to the floor. Her breasts were high and tight, not as full as so many others I had enjoyed. Those pink nipples were hard and the surrounding areolas puckered with her excitement, or the cool air. Either way, I wanted to feel them against my tongue, pressed between my lips, filling my hands and rubbing against other parts of my body.

She pulled her skirt up to her waist, showing off her privates and lack of underwear. “All you have to do is ask, and I’m all yours. Any way you want me.” She ran her hands down her hips and back up her thighs to lightly graze herself. I wanted to feel her too.

In those few steps, through her play to undress and entice me, Carrie finally got close enough to touch. Her anticipation had been burning throughout the night and upon contact it flared through me. The shorts I wore were one of the pairs Renée had bought to show off my thighs and easily opened at the leg to allow my length to stand out hard and proud. Carrie pressed into me, rubbing her bare thigh along my heated pole. “You enjoyed licking and slurping food from me last night,” she began to kneel, rubbing her bared breasts against me, “and now I’m going to return the favor.”

I didn’t stop her, never raised a hand. That part of my mind that knew it was wrong was smothered by the fire roaring between us. I’d heard the term “roaring blaze” before but always thought the descriptive for sound meant explosions. No, fire makes sound. Whether a simple crackling or the raging constant call as it destroys things, it makes noise and that same vague resonance was loud enough that I didn’t care if she was added to my group or not. I wanted her, now.

Carrie was good to her word. She rubbed along me, pressing my throbbing pole to her cheek and breasts. Her hands lightly glided along, feeling pumping veins and sheer hardness. Her hot breath brought about a moan from me and her first wet kisses made my knees buckle. She held me like a warm silky toy, planting kisses, lapping with her tongue, and rubbing with soft hands. So much desire tore through us both. I could feel her need and fed her mine, sharing that intense blaze that demanded liquid satisfaction.

Looking down into her dark eyes, I could see so much more than just her lust. Her desires, her dreams were all open for me to peruse. I not only saw but felt, touched her wish to be taken, not just sexually, but almost physically. Vikkor had offered the excitement the night before but having her face removed took the fun too far. Yes, Carrie struggled, but it was a game. If Vikkor hadn’t gone so far, Carrie would have given in. Then the food was placed on her body and she was wheeled out to be dinnerware. She had held still as possible but wanted so much to just writhe and press to the line of mouths that licked and sucked on her everywhere. She even had a small orgasm when the morsel between her legs had been taken and she wanted to beg for more. After the discovery of her missing face, she then wondered what would happen because she had been tied down.

Then a voice whispered to her. A voice that held words of comfort, offered promise and sounded of seduction. She could get off just having that voice whisper gently to her. A touch accompanied that voice, soft and gentle. So badly she wanted that hand to touch her... everywhere. When those hands cupped her missing face and she felt the warm soothing liquid, she knew someone special was helping her. Then she could see. She could speak. Looking up she saw the face of the man those hands and that voice belonged to. She wanted him, and wanted more than just to hear his voice, more than to just feel his hands. He was tall, well built and handsome. No, handsome didn’t justify how good, how incredible, how very erotically hot and fantastically striking he was. The only way she could possibly thank such a man was with her body, with everything she was. She could give herself over to him and let him do things to her that she never let anyone do before. She would even let him take away her face again if she could only bask in his presence. Gods didn’t walk the earth, but what do you call a man that inspired that kind of devotion?

I pulled from her mind and found her still looking up at me. That admiration was still present. She still wondered if she could possibly offer appropriate thanks for what I had done for her. For me it was enough to know she was happy with the face I gave her, but she wanted to give more, wanted to please me because there was no monetary or object-oriented payment she could make that would feel sufficient to her. If she could hand over the world, it wouldn’t be enough.

I reached down and stroked her cheek. In that same soft voice that had reassured and enticed her I said, “The only payment I seek is your happiness.”

She smiled, part joy, part seduction. The sight of her joy, pressed to my hot and ready shaft made me twitch. She nuzzled into me, running her hands along my cock. I moaned as she whispered back, “Then make me happier. Shoot off on me. Show me how much you like my smile and paint it with your cum.” Opening wide, she ran her tongue up and up. She pulled my tip down and slurped me into her mouth, sucking and teasing. Her hands moved with purpose, stroking me not with the light touch she had teased with, but with pressure, as if trying to wring out my hose. The energy she put into bringing me off caused our respective fires to flare. I didn’t try to change her any further, didn’t go for her throat or even thrust. I let her work me because she wanted to. She wanted to know that she could get me off and it was happening. A hand sliding furiously up and down my thick pole, the other gently coercing my sac and the factory therein, and her mouth dancing about my head all synced up and with a heavy grunt I gave her that which she requested.

Carrie held me just a couple of inches from her face with her mouth wide open. Her pink tongue extended to accept the first shot of my offering. She closed her mouth and eyes after that and let me soak her face and hair with the rest. I never moved, never grabbed for anything. I just stood there with my feet apart and my back arched as I sprayed her down.

When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was Alexandria standing in the doorway of my bedroom. Her hand covered the smile on her face. Her eyes twinkled with delight. I wasn’t sure what she was so happy about, but it was good to know that our sharing memories the night before hadn’t soured her mood any.

Mandy had crawled into the living room. She sat on her knees a few feet to the side, looking at the thick white fluid that I had covered Carrie’s face with. She licked her lips like Carrie was a bowl and my cream the drink of choice.

Looking down at Carrie, I could still see her majestic smile under all the goop. She looked over to Mandy, her smile never wavering. Down past her cream-covered cheek, an amber streak hovered over her chest.