The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

© 2007, le Duc de Kavaliere

Midsummer Knight’s Dream

Part 2

Act One, Scene Two

One of the nice things about being independently wealthy is that you can choose a job you like, instead of having to take the best job you can get.

Since my investment in Stewart’s microprocessor firm had started bringing home the gold, I had been able to relax—and had quit looking for a job based on how much I would make. Instead, I’d started contract work at environmental or social non-profits. Their pay, when there was any, was abysmal—but now I didn’t have to rely on it.

Currently, I was working as a web developer for a local charity. It was four days a week, six hours a day, minimum wage—but that left lots of time to play. Once I finished the job, they wouldn’t need me any more, and I’d move on to my next contract.

I was coding a particularly obnoxious RSS feed when there was a knock on the wall of my cubicle. I looked up, and saw the impish face of my fiancee Colleen peering around the makeshift wall.

“I got it,” she grinned.

Smiling, I stood up and walked towards her. We met halfway, and I took her into my arms. She exhaled contentedly, and went all soft as I kissed her. She returned the kiss, licking my lower lip.

My eyes took in Colleen’s scrumptious form. She had sparkling green eyes, a lovely face made roguish by her crooked smile, and a pronounced nose and chin. Her long wavy hair, recently dyed back to its natural red-auburn, was clipped behind her head and flowed elegantly down her back. She had a voluptuous figure featuring oh-so-feminine curves, generous hips, and ample breasts. Today she was wearing a leaf-green blouse that brought out the color of her eyes, along with an ankle-length black skirt and high heels.

“That’s great, and I’m very proud of you,” I told her. “What’s the scoop?”

“You are looking at Zelasha,” she explained with an elaborate curtsey, “one of the vocalists for the brand-new Gypsy Songbirds.”

I grinned. “Well, the name certainly fits you!”

She nodded. “We’ll have to go shopping and find me some proper Gypsy-style clothes. I know, poor me.”

“What kind of music?” I asked, pulling up a chair for her. We both sat, facing each other.

“You know the things they have at Ren Faires,” Colleen said, eyes twinkling. “Mostly fun ones. Occasionally we’ll have a traditional—aaaand a bawdy one every so often.”

“Sounds like your kind of thing!” I said, chuckling.

Colleen tried to put on a faux-mad face, but failed—she was grinning too broadly. “We’ll be practicing every weekend for a while,” she explained, “but we’ll have to work every day the Faire’s open. Do you think your contract will be done by then?”

“Probably, why?”

“We’ll need people to help set up,” she explained. “Doesn’t pay much, but the benefits include getting to see me all day. And besides, we’ve never done it at a Ren Faire.”

“You’re on,” I grinned. “Where’s the Faire?”

“Lemme see,” she said, and dug a wrinkled piece of paper out of her bag. “The Carmel Epic Renaissance Faire. I have no idea where that is.”

Zelasha had been born in South Dakota, and had moved to California last year. She was still a relative newcomer to the West Coast.

“Carmel’s a resort town,” I explained. “It’s right next to Monterey.”

Colleen’s lapis lazuli eyes widened. “Oooooh, there,” she said. “That’s a bit of a drive, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but it’s by the shore,” I said. “I’m sure we can make it worthwhile.”

My fiancee grinned her crooked smile. “I think I have a cousin in Monterey whom I’ve never met—I’ll have to ask my dad. Maybe we can look her up.”

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

“I can think of a way you can help me right now,” she replied, looking me up and down. “Maybe you can take off early? I think we need to celebrate.”

I looked at the clock—I was supposed to be here for another quarter of an hour. But what’s fifteen minutes among friends?

I made excuses to my coworkers, and the two of us headed for home.