The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

One day Alisa needed a date and the next morning she’d sent an e-mail to the boss saying that she’d eloped to Mexico. His immediate reply bounced and her cell had been out of service since she’d left the store. I was the last person to see her, dead or alive, before she vanished off the face of the earth. It was all too neat, every I dotted and every T crossed. And it was so very orange. Sound like anyone I’ve described? If Ashley hadn’t been the one to recommend involving the police, I’d have stepped up and fingered her as an accomplice in a heartbeat. Everyone had noticed she’d been acting weird. Everyone in the store suspected foul play of some kind, and I hated the smell of it more and more the more I remembered.

“Remember something, Cara. Alisa disappeared on our property. If there’s some kidnapper, or God forbid, a serial killer, lurking around here, it’s bye bye business and hello lawsuits,” my boss reminded me sternly.

“Of course,” I replied, trying to keep from rolling my eyes. I had more important things to try and remember. Mexico? Not likely. Not as doped up as Alisa looked- she’d never have gotten past airport security. And that orange Camero she’d dressed to match- it had had custom plates from New York- Syracuse custom plates, I realized after flipping past ESPN one night. The windows had been tinted- I should never have let her get into a car with tinted windows, because I couldn’t see the driver. The boss had given us all a canned speech to use, but I knew too much and Alisa was one of my people. I had to tell them what I saw.

And guess who I found there? Our favorite detail-oriented fan of orange. I was actually relieved the cops had thought to bring her in. She was Alisa’s friend, after all, and maybe Alisa had told her where she was going- or maybe she knew. She was in street clothes, orange sweats with a matching hoodie. She seemed way too much at ease with the cops, telling them more than I thought she could know- certainly more than I knew. And the officers interviewing her were eating every word up. Of course they were. They’d become such good friends from the first awkward moment during Ashley’s interview, maybe even the only true friend either of them had. I didn’t eavesdrop any further, but after Ashley’s interview, the cops started leaving the room, but before I could say my piece, Ashley cut me off.

“I’m sorry I caused such trouble. It was all a misunderstanding. I told her to make it look like a date and she took it too much to heart,” she said.

“What? You were behind this?” I gasped. Then how was she not in handcuffs?

“As I told the officers, Alisa needed to get away. She needed to be somewhere where she was more than just a pretty face, so my sister and I arranged for her to transfer to my old school, Syracuse. I wish Alisa had been more upfront about it, but she was too worried that taking the advice of someone like me would make it look like she was lesbian, and it would get back to her parents. She did not want people thinking I had corrupted her.”

I couldn’t believe her, but she sounded so sincere that I almost forgot what I’d seen in the parking lot. Somehow I cleared my head and yelled, “I saw what really happened! It was creepy! Ashley’s covering something up!”

“You’re the assistant manager, right? Cara, your name was? Your friend told us about you when we called her new number. Just a misunderstanding. We spoke to her, and she’s alive and well. You and her folks and a few other people should get calls from her tonight. It’s a confusing time for a young woman. I’m sure you understand,” the officer said.

I let it go, remembering what my boss had told me about the store’s image. I turned around to talk to Ashley, but she had already walked away.

The next day it was time to navigate part two of the Alisa disaster- finding a replacement for her. Ashley would have been the no-brainer if it weren’t for all the weirdness around Alisa running off… wherever. She was always going full throttle the second the clock struck 9, already in uniform, briefed, and set for the task at hand, as if she knew what was asked of her before I could tell it to her. She was always a step ahead, could calculate price with tax in her head, kept the inventory memorized, and had strength and stamina that the boys envied (and at least in Keith’s case, apparently used in their fantasies). But then, there was always that weird distance around her, and her slow, methodical voice was a concern- though, when I thought about it, I realized she had always presented herself well to customers when she had to.

But I didn’t have much of a choice. Maria had another job and couldn’t take anything other than night shifts. Keith knew his stuff, but he had a bad habit of letting his confidence become arrogance and rudeness. Ellen couldn’t tell the difference between a nail and a screw; she was pretty much there to mop floors and stick on price tags. Marty was already on sales duty, dealing with experts and contracts. And so on and so forth. Business was booming, and we couldn’t afford to run short-handed while training someone new. It was going to have to be Ashley- but not before I sat down with her to try and figure out what was with the weirdness.

So I called her in one day after close. She came immediately, sat down on the other side of the desk, and stared at me. I could almost see my reflection in her wide, glassy eyes. Creepy.

“Ashley, I want to see if you could take Alisa’s job in sales. Alisa was good at what she did and she will be tough to replace, but I think you could do it. In fact, I know you can, as long as we go over some things.”

“Do explain,” Ashley said coldly and distantly.

“Like that. What’s with your expressions? You’re so… and I mean this as nicely as I can… empty inside. You follow directions better than anyone here, but there’s no emotion to it! It’s like you’re a machine,” I tried to explain.

“Oh, that. Lacrosse. I’ve been that way since lacrosse two years ago. Changed my life. You wouldn’t have liked me before then,” Ashley droned out. I realized she hadn’t moved an inch since we started talking.

“Concussions? Is that why your eyes are like that all the time? You got hit in the head?” I asked. Oh, man, that was harsh. Whatever happened to her, it left an obviously genius-level mind scrambled like a diner breakfast. It had been obvious from the start that she was smart, but if this was what she was like when she wasn’t firing on all cylinders, yowza!

“No, it just taught me to focus, like I was teaching Alisa to focus before she left for a better life. I focus on doing the task at hand, so if it is being social that is my task, I can do so. By the way, did you notice that the new GT power drill runs on 2 amps less than the previous power drill yet puts out 200lbs more of torque and is three times faster thanks to new battery technology? Also, its new chuck system allows for quick conversion between standard and Phillips screws with bits designed to bore holes and place screws without having to change bits. Not bad for $50,” Ashley said with a plastic smile. I was sold, both on promoting her to sales and on the power drill. The rest of the conversation was already hazy- something about lacrosse and focus?

“I see you’ve got the pitch memorized. Good. You’ll be starting tomorrow.” As she left the room, I couldn’t help but notice that I was staring at her until she was gone. A deep breath later, it occurred to me that beneath the baggy skater look was a model’s body waiting to come out.

When she came in the next day, several jaws dropped, including mine. Ashley’s hair was no longer orange, or tied in a messy bun; it was down and styled, and a very lovely shade of brown. While still within uniform code, her white shirt and black pants were tighter than anything I’d ever seen her wear.

Keith, once he got his tongue back into his mouth and wiped the drool off his chin, pulled me aside and started bitching about how no one had even been warned and was he at least getting paid more and on and on for about fifteen minutes. He shut up when Ashley turned a thousand in sales into five thousand by convincing a small construction company to stock up on concrete, wood, and other basic materials, some of which were cheaper at our competitors, by puffing up our quality and our convenience. She would have made a used car salesman blush, but it worked beyond anyone’s wildest dreams, and everyone came away happy.

And that was just the start. She was amazing. She could sell anything to anyone; not a single person crossed her path and came away empty-handed. I’d been so worried about her and her communication difficulties, but here she was, turning hardware sales into a spectator sport. I just watched her in awe time and time again. I barely found time to do my job and take care of stock and inventory-someone had to do it, since Ashley was on the floor.

Moving into sales hadn’t dulled her memory, and time and time again she’d point me to a faster, more efficient way of getting things done. I never remembered later, just went about my assigned tasks until I looked at the nearest clock and realized it was five.

I learned a lot about Ashley during those weeks- in fact my only real memories of that time are of her. She had an unbelievable wit and an excellent sense of humor. She taught me every trick she used to stay on top, and by the end it might have seemed that we were equals, but I had in truth bowed to her. She had all the skills. I just had a bossy attitude.

Beyond that, I realized how beautiful she was. She kept herself in killer shape, and a very meticulous way of putting herself together no matter what was happening around her- okay, except for always wearing orange whenever she wasn’t working. And I saw more and more of what she was like when she wasn’t working, because I was hanging out with her almost every day, either in the mornings before work or the evenings after work. We talked a lot, but none of it was worth remembering. I just needed to be with her. I started to wonder if I was turning gay, but in a fuzzy sort of “huh, interesting” way that faded the next time I saw her. Orange didn’t look so weird anymore, not on her.

After all the weirdness of the summer, the day before classes started- and the day before I would cut my hours- hit unexpectedly. She was waiting for me after work in the back room, wearing the outfit she had worn during the interview. She watched me with those calm, glassy eyes, and smiled like someone had flicked a switch. “Cara, the time has come. Have you learned to focus now? You’ve been trying for weeks. I may be your leader now, but you are the one with the gift, not me. You were the queen we wanted from the beginning. I’m just the messenger,” she said.

Her words stuck in my head, but not in the normal way. There was a subtler, subconscious lure, as there was in everything she said. I’d begun to notice it a couple of weeks earlier, and it took on a darker meaning. But there were still pieces missing to the puzzle, especially now that Ashley was shedding all pretenses.

“You can call Alisa if you are confused. She would help explain what has happened to you. She was an innocent bystander who was forced to see me naked during the drug test. She was gone from the moment she saw me, and she would have been ruined if I didn’t take things to their logical end. I wasted so much time on her… I was always here for you, not some airheaded piece of candy.” Her words were cold and sharp enough to jar me somewhat awake. Confused, I dialed the number Ashley had written in perfect square handwriting on the piece of paper in front of me. The reply snapped me right out of whatever spell Ashley had put me under.

“You have tried to summon me, but I have been summoned to a different task. Please state your task and I will attend to it after my previous task has been completed,” Alisa’s voice droned out on the other end in the recording, her tone distant and lost. I barely recognized it, because for a moment I thought the droning voice belonged to Ashley.

“What did you do to her? Where is she? You monster, how did you cover up your tracks to the cops? I knew from the moment I saw her in the parking lot that something was wrong, but you- you made it all go away just like that, made me go away just like that! What are you, some kind of witch?” I demanded. I was shaking with rage, ready for either fight or flight, because she’d knocked me right down the ladder I’d worked so hard to climb as soon as she turned her attention to me. “I had a job there- I could have had a career there if I’d wanted- and you turned me back into a lowly stock girl!”

Empty patches of memory started filling themselves back in, days and nights at the pizza parlor. I was trying to rid Ashley of the drone in her voice, train her in some artificial pep, but she always took over and I left without remembering a thing…

“Confusion and resistance are good. They show a strong and fit mind. You’ll go places with that, places you thought were only in stories. But for now you must go with me. I know that these weeks of training were not lost on you, Cara, and I look forward to serving you when the time is right.” Okay, she was talking weird, but she was starting to make sense. Whatever kind of stuff I’d gotten mixed up in- cult, witches, vampires, whatever- they were determined, and I was intrigued. Did they recognize some talent in me that I couldn’t see? I got so caught up in contemplating what that the next thing I saw was Ashley taking her shirt off, and by then it was too late for me.

My mind reeled as my eyes locked on Ashley’s lacy orange bra. I couldn’t stop staring, and breathing was getting difficult as orange filled my mind. She stood and walked out from behind the table, and I felt a compulsion to stand in front of her. She undid her belt and let her jeans fall around her ankles, revealing lacy orange panties. I didn’t notice anything about Ashley, not her legs, not her breasts, not the shape of her body, just the intense orangeness of her underwear. It kept me captivated, unable to move anything but my eyes, and those only from bra to panties and back again. My mouth was dry, my breathing ragged, every inch of me covered in sweat that cooled rapidly as she undressed me. I was ready for whatever sex she had in mind, but instead she took a bag out from under the desk and emptied it in front of me.

There was an orange button-down shirt that would fit me snugly, an orange and black skirt that could barely be decent, black pantyhose, black heels, an orange bra… I almost collapsed at the mere sight. The memories Ashley had hidden from me returned full force. Her slow seduction of me, starting just after Alisa disappeared. The focus lessons I had forgotten, imprinting the power of orange on me. Everything she wore, everything I wore, was a warning to those who knew what we were: a sign of loyalty to those who belonged, and an instrument of power to bring in anyone we wanted. Our glorious times together, first every day, then twice a day, until Ashley had become my entire world.

I could move now, and I knew what I had to do like I had been born to it. The pantyhose, the heels, the skirt, the bra, the shirt; every time I put something on, it seemed like the lights were darkening to orange. Maybe it was odd, but it was what I was used to, what I was trained to respond to. Ashley took off my new outfit as quickly as I put it on, and I knew she was as aroused as I was. The present and the past collided as every memory of our lovemaking combined in my mind and body. I became hers with each passing second, minutes felt like seconds as she made love to me until I came with a moan… and then I went blank.