The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Story: A Brief Interlude

((Author’s note: this aptly named story takes place some time after ‘Hunters: Quarry Hunted’ and before ‘Hunters: Quarry Cornered’. A little side story, an INTERLUDE between episodes, if you will. This story can stand alone, but for more background, you may wish to read the debut story in this world, ‘Darke Pleasures.’ Or better yet, check out about the world of the Ancients on EyeofSerent’s homepage. Hope you enjoy.))

* * *

The man smiled softly at her, cuddling her close, kissing her eyes gently, with a deep affection, if not love. His very closeness radiated a warmth, a level of comfort and satisfaction those who had not experienced it could never even conceive of. When He held her this way, He was her ALL, her Everything, her Universe.

“Please,” she sobbed softly, feeling the fear, the anguish starting to well up in her again, even safe in his arms. “Please, Master, don’t go away from me again. Please! Let me stay here with you, like this, always.”

“Shhh,” he said softly, stroking her cheek. “It’s okay, my dear. I must go from you for a while. I have a journey to take. Someone out there needs me. She is calling out to me from the very bond that ties us together, even if she herself is unaware of it. I HAVE to go to her. She... she needs me.”

“I need you,” she said again softly, clutching him to her all the more. “Please, stay with me just a moment longer. Don’t go. Don’t take yourself away from me.”

The man shook his head sadly, and leaning forward, he kissed her lips. “I will return to you, if it is at all possible. But don’t be afraid. I am with you, dear one. I’m ALWAYS with you, inside your mind, in your heart.” He began to shimmer, his image fading slightly. She gasped in terror, feeling as if her world was about to crumble. She reached out a hand to grasp his, only to find her hand slid INTO him. He continued to fade away slowly, before her teary eyes, until finally he was gone.

Gone.

Gone.

With a gasp, Shelley Preston came awake, glancing around her laviously furnished bedroom. Something had awoken her, a sound or something, starling her out of her dream. She sat still, listening for a moment, but nothing moved, and the strange noise, whatever it had been, declined to repeat itself. Letting out a deep breath, she leaned back into her bed and glanced at the clock. The display flashed four-eighteen. Damn. Too blasted early in the fucking morning... and I couldn’t go back to sleep now if I tried. With a heavy sigh, she slid out of bed, and walked naked into her bathroom.

Splashing water unto her face, she looked at herself in the mirror. Why is it that I’m always in a melancholy mood whenever I first wake up? What’s wrong with me? I am the youngest lawyer to make partner in the history of my company, I’m a very wealthy, very successful woman, I am well known and liked by all my employees and envied by my peers. So... why am I so down in the dumps? Why does my life feel so... empty?

Moving into the shower, turning on the hot water, she pondered her thoughts. It was the dreams, she decided eventually, as she washed away the sweat and perspiration of the night. Lately she had been having very intense, emotionally draining dreams at night, and sometimes woke up crying, feeling sad and alone, but never knowing why. The images were so vivid and meaningful that she somehow knew they had a special significance, but despite her best efforts, she could never remember them after she awoke. She had even tried having a pen and pad beside the bed to write down her dream the moment she came awake, only to growl in frustration as the images faded before the pen touched the paper. All she ever took from her dream experiences was an overwhelming sense of loss.

Oh, to hell with this, she thought to herself. I’m just in a rut, that’s all. Too much time spent on my career, and too little spent on ME. I need to go on a vacation, to some little out-of-the-way spot and just unwind. Maybe find me a nice strapping unattached young man... or maybe even an attached one. Its been months since my last good fuck. Unbidden, her hands went to her naked crotch, and Shelley sighed as she felt pleasure bubble its way slowly up through her body. Her hands were sure and steady, and she stroked herself to an intense orgasm before shutting off the water and slipping out of the shower. Wrapping a towel around her dripping hair, and one around her waist as well, she walked back into her bedroom, and glanced at the clock. Five after five. Nodding to herself, she picked up the phone and dialed the Montreal International Airport.

“Hello? This is Shelley Preston. I’d like to book a flight from here to Miami for the weekend.” A short pause. “Yes, I’ll be traveling alone. Luggage? Yes, an overnight bag, and a small carry-on, I think.” Pause. “First class, and no, I’ll pay at the ticket counter when I arrive.” Another pause, as she idly twirled the phone cord around her finger, knocking over TV remote as it swung onto the counter. Frowning, she slid off her bed, phone still pressed up against her ear, and knelt down to retrieve the remote. “No, no, I don’t care about the price, just give me the first available flight out. I’m anxious to leave as soon as possible.” Sliding her hand under the bed, she touched something long and flat, where the remote had fallen.

It was, however, NOT the remote control.

Scowling deeply, she pulled the large padded envelope from underneath the bed, only half-listening to the woman on the phone. The envelope was sealed and marked simply ‘To Shelley’. It was written in a handwriting she didn’t recognize, and yet one that seemed so familiar. The woman in her ear spoke again, loudly. “What? Oh, okay. Yes, that all sounds fine. I’ll be there in two hours to pick up the tickets. Goodbye.” She hung up the phone, and picked up the envelope again, turning it gently in her hands. It was a standard manila envelope, the padded kind that held important items. As she held it, a small voice inside her seemed to scream “NO” with a suddenness that made her gasp. The letter fluttered back to the floor once more, and feeling embarrassed at her skittishness, Shelley picked up the letter and ripped it open.

Inside, she found a key and a letter. Glancing at the key, she saw that it was one of the kind used to open safe deposit boxes. Pocketing it for now, she unfolded the letter and began to read:

My dearest Shelley,

I am writing this for your benefit, and your benefit alone. Long ago, I found the tape that you made, the one that you tried to keep a secret from me. Did you think you could hide such a thing from me, he who knows your very thoughts? It was tempting to destroy the record, to erase this last remaining fragment of my existence from you, but your heartfelt pleas moved me to allow it. Very well. So be it. Sealed with this envelope is a key. It is the key to a small safe deposit box at one of the local banks, yet it is also a key to your past, to the answers that you seek. Although every part of me tells me that it is best that you be kept in the dark, I will allow you to shed light upon the mystery you now hold within your hands. I wish you well.

—Shadowdarke

Shelley stood holding the note for a while. What the HELL? she thought, as she she reread the note. Shadowdarke? Who in the world... and why does this sound so familiar to me? I’ve never met this Shadow guy, and I certainly have no idea what this letter is referring to... or how it even got into my apartment, for that matter. Shelley shivered slightly at the thought. Was she being stalked? Has someone managed to infiltrate her security and slip into and out of her room undetected to leave her strange notes? Or was she truly losing her mind?

It’s a good thing I am leaving here in a few hours. I don’t have to deal with any of this foolishness right now. Still... it mentioned a mystery, something from my past that I’ve obviously forgotten. This may have something to do with all those mysterious dreams I’ve been having. And yet, even the writer of the note is telling me NOT to try and figure this all out, that it is better if I am kept in the dark. She shook her head resolutely. No. I’ve never backed down from a challenge in my whole entire life, and I’m not about to start now. This Shadow guy left me a clue to something in my past, and I intend to find out what it is. The vacation can wait.

* * *

Several minutes later, Shelley was dressed, bedecked in a smartly tailored navy power suit, consisting of white silk blouse, dark navy pants, and matching navy pumps. As she adjusted her makeup in the mirror, she had a brief flash, a surge of memory of standing before a mirror like this before, primping and making herself up for... for someone she couldn’t quite recall. The moment passed abruptly, but it left her with chills. Thinking the odd sensation was related to her strange dreams in some way, she again took out the letter and the key. Glancing at the small key, she realized that it matched the key she had received from her bank for the use of her own safe deposit box. Could it be a match? The idea that a stranger could invade her life so completely without her even knowing was frightening to say the least. She had a considerable amount of her savings in that bank; what if this mysterious stranger had cleaned her out, leaving her all but penniless?

“Only one way to find out,” she said softly, grabbing her purse and leaving the bedroom, descending the stairs and heading to the front door. Revving up the engine of her 2001 Mercedes, she headed towards her bank. She arrived just as the bank was opening and wasting no pleasantries on the tellers who knew her by name, she walked over to the bank president’s office and knocked.

The elderly gentleman, just about to sit down and drink his morning coffee, glanced up. “Oh, Ms. Preston. What a lovely surprise! What can I do for you this morning?”

Shelley cut straight to the chase. “Mr. Thorton, I’d like to check my accounts, if you please. All of them.”

“Oh, is that all?” Mr. Thorton asked, a little put off by her curt manner. “I’m sure any of the tellers at the windows would be glad to assist—”

“No. I don’t want them to help me,” she cut him off in mid-sentence. “I want YOU, personally, to assist me. I have reason to believe that someone has been stalking me, watching me. Last night I found an envelope in my room, and it contained a strange letter and a key to a safe deposit box from this bank. It looks like a perfect match for the one to my own safe deposit box. If some stranger has managed to get into my personal life, and get access to my accounts, I damn well want to know about it, and now!”

Mr. Thorton bit his tongue. The woman was highly irate, and considering what she suspected, rightfully so. Still, it was preposterous that someone could have bypassed the bank’s security policies and accessed her accounts. Normally such an accusation would have sent him off into a fit, but Shelley Preston was a very wealthy and very influential member of the community, and had more than three million dollars stored in his bank. For that amount of money she could damn well set him on fire and he wouldn’t protest!

“Follow me, Ms. Preston, and I’ll try to set your mind at ease,” he said, leading her to the bank’s huge vault. “You can test the key and see if it fits any of these boxes besides your own. In the meantime, I’ll have all your financial records pulled up, and ready when you are done here.” He gestured to the security guard. “Conner, give Ms. Preston any assistance she requires.” The old man walked back to his desk and began pulling up Shelley’s files.

At the same time, Shelley was trying the new key to see if it fir into any of her safe deposit boxes. It didn’t. “Damn. It looks just the same. It even has the same number engraved on it.” She glanced around the room, frowning, trying to think of what to do next. Conner, the guard, solved that problem.

“Excuse me, Miss Preston,” he said, stretching out a hand, “if I may? Maybe the key was made from a copy of the original.” She handed him the key, and he peered at it closely. “Hmm... if the person that copied this key did it from a tracing, or an imprint or something, it might be reversed. The numbers, I mean. Instead of eight-one-one, perhaps its number one-one-eight.” He walked over to the other end of the vault, and slid the key into the box. It turned easily. “Here you are ma’am.”

Shelley thanked the man and examined the open box. It was empty, save for a small plastic case containing a video tape. This just gets stranger and stranger, she thought in exasperation. Sighing, she took the video tape and exited the vault just as Mr. Thorton returned. “Here you are, Ms. Preston,” the man spoke, handing her a heavy folder filled with printouts. “These are your records for the last month. I glanced over them as I printed them out, and if I may say so, everything seems to be in order. There have been no major withdrawals from your accounts, and no transfers.”

“Um, yes, thanks,” she said, distracted. Finally she looked up at the man. “I found the box that the key fits, Mr. Thorton. Can you tell me who owns box one-eighteen? I know its probably against the rules to give out that information about other peoples’ boxes, and I know how I would feel if you gave out MY information to anyone else... but this is important, and—”

“Miss Preston, are you feeling alright?” Mr. Thorton asked curiously.

“Yes, of course,” she snapped back, irritably. “Why do you ask? What does that have to do with anything?”

Wordlessly, Mr. Thorton walked over to her and opened the folder containing her account information and taking a pen, circled the list of her personal holding in the bank. Shelley glanced at the circled data and gasped. “Ms. Preston,” the man said gently, “box eight-eighteen is YOUR box number. One of the five you keep here at this bank.”

* * *

Arriving back home in a bit of a daze, Shelley glanced again at the files in her hand. For as long as she could remember, she had kept four safe deposit boxes at the bank, one for her jewelry, one for her company stocks, one for her IRA’s, and the last one for her will. Being a full partner in the largest, most prestigious law firm in Canada, she had taken great care of her assets, keeping a careful and precise record of her finances. There was no way she would have forgotten taking out a fifth safe deposit box. Nevertheless, the files clearly showed that she had, more than a year ago, and she held the contents of that box in her other hand. The mysterious unlabeled video tape.

Either she was going completely insane, or this was all part of one big conspiracy. Turning the tape over again in her hands, Shelley sighed, and slipped it into the VCR.

“Only one way to know for certain,” she said softly as she hit the PLAY button.

The screen went black for a moment or two, then to her complete surprise, the image cleared an image of herself stared back at her. Momentarily stunned, she turned up the volume to hear what the woman on the tape was saying.

“Hello, Shelley,” she said with a grin. “You’re probably a bit confused about all of this. I know I would be in your shoes, and since I AM you, I can guess pretty much at what is going through your head right now. You’re probably thinking this is all a trick, that this is part of a conspiracy to make you think you’ve lost your mind, or to con you out of your money somehow.” Shelley’s mirror image shook her head. “That is not the case, Shell. The reality is much much harder to believe. All I can ask is that you try and be open-minded for a bit and hear me out before you make any snap decisions. And don’t shut off this tape and walk away!” she nearly yelled, as Shelley placed her hand on the STOP/EJECT button of the remote. “If you don’t go through with this right now, you will convince yourself that this never happened, that it was all in your mind. And time is of the essence, Shell. There are forces at work here that you could not imagine. To put it simply, you have questions, and I have the answers. So just sit back and get comfortable and watch this tape. I’ll explain it all.”

Shelley did as her video image asked, sitting down on the couch. A part of her couldn’t believe she was actually listening to herself this way, but the conviction of the woman’s voice, so much like her own when she desperately tried to convince someone to take her seriously, struck a chord deep within her. A moment after she had settled back into the couch, the girl on the tape continued.

“Good. I was hoping you would listen. You can be very stubborn at times,” she said with a grin. “First, I should explain about the dreams you... or I... um, that WE have been having. For that, we need to go back about three years or so into the past. I am going to say a name, and I don’t want you to panic, just sit there and listen while I explain.” The girl paused momentarily, for dramatic effect, no doubt, and spoke the name. “Dr. Jonothan Darke.”

Darke. Darke. Darke... Shadowdarke. An image flashed in Shelley’s head, a face, the image of a man she had never met, and yet knew like the back of her hand. Somehow she simply KNEW that the person she saw was this Dr. Darke. The image also stirred feelings within her, feelings of deep arousal, love, and devotion, and a sweet submission she never could have imagined. Darke. The word made her feel weak in the knees, and if she hadn’t been sitting down on the couch, she knew she would have falling to her knees. Suddenly, the idea seemed to fit, the thought of kneeling, paying homage to this mysterious Dr. Darke. It seemed so RIGHT somehow.

“I know what you’re thinking,” her video image continued, recapturing her attention. “I know what you’re feeling. Just the name of our Master always invokes such a feeling of helplessness in me that it kind of takes my breath away.” She sighed, a sort of dreamy look on her face. “The good Doctor is just that, Shelley. Your Master. You first met him at a restaurant over three years ago, back when you were struggling over the last phase of the Printon divorce. I know you remember that multi-million dollar case; its success made you a junior partner in the firm. That, in turn, springboarded you into your current position as FULL partner. But perhaps you don’t recall EVERYTHING about that evening as well as you think.”

“Of course I do!” Shelley said aloud to the television screen. “I was there. I remember everything about that night.” Then, her image on the screen held up a small picture. It was the restaurant she had visited, Shades of the Caribbean, and standing there in the photo was a tall young man, with dark black hair, tanned brown skin, and deep penetrating eyes of a hazel brown color. The man in her mind, the face of her dreams was right before her eyes. Then she focused on the woman standing next to him, with her arm around his waist, looking up at him with adoring eyes, and realized with a shock that it was her!

The girl on the tape continued. “You and your client had the table across from him. He was entertaining a young lady, one of many of his slaves, and your client pitched a fit at the uninhibited way they were acting. You got up and made a big stink, but instead of getting angry, Darke decided to add you to his harem. He brought you back to his place and proceeded to give you the best night of sex and fulfillment that you have ever experienced. He then told you about himself, about his nature, his Power. He gave you a choice, and in the end you agreed of your own free will to submit to him, to become his willing obedient little sextoy. For the next couple of years, things were happy and carefree. You lived a life of utter contentment and satisfaction, and he took care of you.” The girl in the tape sighed deeply. “But as the saying goes, nothing lasts forever. Our Master is a powerful man, Shelley, but there are Others out there as well, Others more powerful than he. He survives by secrecy, by hiding and avoiding detection. He leaves no trace of himself, and he has survived longer than many this way.” The girl sighed again, and as she glanced back up at the camera, her eyes were wet with unshed tears. “To remain safe, he has had to sometimes erase all lingering traces of himself. That includes erasing the very memory of himself from those around him, those that have come to love and cherish him. People like you, Shelley. People like me.”

Shelley sat riveted to the screen, as the words spoken by the girl on the screen began to crack the stone wall inside her mind, the barrier holding back memories she hadn’t even been aware were missing. As fantastic and far-fetched as it all sounded, Shelley believed every word her video self spoke. It all rang true, somehow. As she continued to speak, she began to remember bits and pieces of her life with Darke, her time as a slave in brief flashes and images. Suddenly, the screen shifted, and static appeared, as if the last part of the tape had been recorded over. In place of herself, she saw her Master, Jonothan Darke, step into view.

“Hello, little one,” he said softly. “I decided to preempt your little speech to yourself a bit. If you are seeing this, then very likely I have been called away, or have been forced to disappear for a time. I may or may not be returning. It was never my intention to allow you, or any of my others to remember me. I am not truly a part of your world. I do not fit into your common, HUMAN lives, anymore than you could fit into mine. And there is also the danger of your being captured, and taken by one of the other Ancients, your mind sucked clean for information about the mysterious man that appeared seemingly from nowhere. Me.”

He grinned sardonically. “By viewing this tape you have unwittingly placed yourself back in danger again. I removed myself from your memories not only to protect me, but you as well. But... I have come to have a grudging respect for human beings. You are truly capable of remarkable things. You have achieved great accomplishments in a relatively short time. You are creative and resourceful, and what you lack in Power you more than make up for in determination and perseverance. You, Shelley, are perhaps one of the most intriguing people I have ever met. You have a special quality that separates you from those around you. It is what first attracted my attention.” He sighed deeply, taking out a small pipe and lighting it. “That said, I have allowed you to keep this video record of your past, to restore your memories and let you retain your life with me. It goes against my own better judgment, but if you felt so strongly about retaining my memory, then I will allow you to keep it.” He took one long drag on his pipe before speaking one final word. “Remember.”

Shelley closed her eyes, clutching herself, sliding a hand to the inside of her waistband. Her mind and body felt as if they were being split open, as if some benevolent force was entering her, filling her up to capacity and beyond. Her breath caught in her throat and her back arched deeply as her fingers entered her dripping pussy and began a fast and furious thrusting. Remember...remember...remember... The word drummed endlessly inside her mind, ringing in her ears, as her arousal reached its peak. Shelley clenched her thighs tightly as she squeezed her clit, forcing her climax. With a loud gasp, she came, gushing her juices in a torrential flood, as the damn holding back her memories shattered and crumbled under the onslaught. Everything came flooding back to her now, and she remembered who and what she was, her life’s purpose reinserting itself. The empty place within her soul was filled again, and as her breathing returned to normal, she realized now why she had felt so incomplete for the past several months.

Darke smiled at her from the screen. “Not so fast, Shelley,” he said with a smirk. “I’ve never let you get away with just one orgasm. Spread your thighs apart again, and lie back down. Focus on the night that I brought you back to the restaurant to celebrate your promotion as senior partner. Concentrate on that night. Now... REMEMBER.”

The screen switched off as the tape reached its end and began to rewind, but Shelley had heard the last command loud and clear, and with a gasp she relived that night again, feeling her Master’s lips against her own, feeling his clever fingers stroking her wet hot sex under her dress underneath the table, and the power of his Touch... her body exploded again and again into climax just as it had that night, and she bucked wildly, silently screaming her pleasure, her mouth frozen in a yell she never released, forced to be quiet as he had commanded of her that night. Finally, she slumped back into the couch, exhausted, spent and well sated. She managed to pull her pillow up underneath her head before she drifted off to sleep...

* * *

Shelley awoke to the sound of her phone ringing. Yawning and stretching, she reached across the table to grasp the phone. “Hello?” she yawned softly, glancing over at the clock on the dresser. The neon illuminated numbers flashed the time. Eleven after eleven? She must have dozed longer than she thought.

“Hello, Shelley? It’s Mary. I saw that you reserved a flight out of town, heading to Miami, Florida in the States for the first available flight this morning. You missed the ten-thirty flight, girlfriend, but if you like, I can get you booked on the next one leaving out at one o’clock.”

Shelley sighed softly, letting her awareness and her memories settle in her mind. With a small start, she remembered how she had seduced her best friend Mary, and had integrated her into her Master’s harem as well, making her into his slave. Like all the other girls, Mary now retained no knowledge of their former life. It was a bit disconcerting to recall these facts while talking to her on the phone this way, blithely unaware of her missing past. Shaking off her temporary fugue, Shelley responded.

“Y-y-yeah, thanks, Mary. I’m sorry I didn’t swing by in time to pick up the tickets. Unforeseen complications.” She glanced over at the plastic case that had contained the video tape, and frowned, noticing a small slip of paper inside the casing. Examining it closely, she found a small list of numbers and a short message:

If for some reason you absolutely positively MUST get in contact with me, you can reach me through one of these contact numbers. Call only for the most DIRE of circumstances, life or death, or worse. Someone will answer that will connect you to me. When he or she answers, use the phrase, ‘When Darkness Falls’ and they’ll know that you are one of mine.

—Darke

Glancing at the numbers idly, she noted one number in particular, an area code she had used before often enough in her business relations. New York. Thinking quickly, she made a snap decision. “Um, Mary? On second thought, I’ve been to Miami before. Could you change the reservations to New York City instead?”

“Well, of course, if you’re sure, though I wouldn’t call visiting New York in the States much of a relaxing vacation.”

Shelley placed the vital slip of paper into her purse. “Great. When’s the next available flight out?”

A pause, then Mary’s voice answered. “We have one leaving at noon with openings in coach only, and another at three o’clock with a first class seat available—”

“I’ll take the noon flight,” she replied, slipping out of her blouse. That will give me just enough time for a quick shower and a change of clothes, and still make it to the airport in time for final call. Lucky thing I live only a few minutes away. “Make the arrangements for me, Mary. I’ll be there shortly. Thanks.” She hung up the phone and slipped out of her pants, and made her way to the shower.

This is probably a big mistake, she thought to herself as she washed away the after-effects of her sexual pleasure. He left to take care of personal business. New York is a big city, and I’ll probably never find him... if he’s even there at all. All I have is a phone number to go on. I must be crazy to be doing this. Still, as she slipped out of the shower and dried herself, she knew that she would go anyway. She had found the missing piece of her life, the source of the emptiness she had been feeling for the past several months. After finally finding it again, Shelley knew she wasn’t about to give up that piece of her life without a fight. Besides, her dreams of him, which she could now recall, had always left her with a disturbing sense of foreboding, as if her subconscious was warning her that he was in danger somehow. As foolish as the thought may have been, Shelley was convinced that he needed her, and that she had to find him as soon as possible. Now I can understand a little of how he felt, being compelled to search for that stupid woman that needed him, she thought with dark humor.

Dressing quickly, she grabbed her overnight bag and her carry-on, and her purse, and was in the car before her locked apartment door swung shut. She drove quickly down the street, the vague idea of impending doom in the back of her mind, as she checked her purse to make sure she had forgotten nothing. Sighing at last, confident that she had taken care of everything, she continued on to the airport, to board the plane and fly out to the Big Apple in search of Darke.

In her apartment, the video tape, completely rewound now, began to play again.

<<< The End >>>