The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

WHAT GIRL IS THIS

CHAPTER SEVEN:

He crossed the patio and stood near a hedge, looking out at the night lights of the country club. Around him were rich homes, lit for the season. Sounds of laughter drifted out behind him. Careful to face the darkness where no one could see him, he cried silently.

It began to snow. Fat flakes drifted down slowly in the cold night air. What wind there had been earlier had died, and the clouds had parted. The sky was broad and light, the stars above Stan twinkled in a brilliant arc over his head.

From his left, a white handkerchief was offered. Stan took it, wiped his eyes and looked over. A short, fat old man with a goatee stood next to him, bundled up in an elegant cashmere overcoat. “You’ll catch cold out here.”

Stan nodded and handed the handkerchief back. The old man waved it away. “Keep it.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” The old man nodded over his shoulder. “You with that crowd in there?”

Stan grimaced. “Not really, don’t think I’m much ‘with’ anyone.” He shivered in the cold.

“No? Didn’t I see you with that gorgeous woman earlier?”

“Yeah, everyone noticed her, I guess. Well, I was with her...” Stan looked at the man. “Are you with the company?”

“Me, no. I’m just here by serendipity tonight. I’m in the distribution business.”

“That’s gotta be better than copiers.”

The old man laughed. “Ever try to make every single delivery on a deadline?” He laughed again, this time so hard his belly jiggled under his elegant clothes. “But at least once we’re past deadline I can take a few days off.”

Stan nodded, cheered for some reason. “You don’t happen to need a copier repairman, by any chance?” He laughed at himself ruefully.

“Is it that bad?” The old man leaned on the railing partially buried in the shrubbery.

Stan thought the old man’s smile was the most genuine thing he’d seen all evening.

“Well, my boss’s boss’s boss is making the moves on a girl I think I may be in love with, and he’s threatening to ruin my life, and I don’t think I’m good enough for her anyways, and I’m fat and stupid and boring... and I’m enough of a retard to pour my life out to strangers.” Stan turned to go back inside.

The old man put a hand on his jacket and stopped him.

“Look son. Can I give you a word of advice?”

Stan shrugged. “Why not, it can’t hurt.”

The old man pulled an old fashioned black pipe from under his coat and lit it. He puffed on it a couple of times, and a scent like almond and cinnamon came forth in a cloud of smoke. He looked at Stan steadily, catching and holding Stan’s gaze.

“Son, no man ever felt worthy of the woman he loved. If he did, it wasn’t love. I been married, seems like forever, and never once felt anything but utter amazement and gratitude that such a woman would be simple minded enough to love someone like me.”

He took a drag on the pipe.

“You feel awkward, stupid, and goofy, right?”

Stan nodded in sincere agreement.

“Yep, that’s love. Real love, the real thing... knocks your knees out from under you, makes you behave like a fool.”

The old man smiled and pointed the stem of his pipe at Stan.

“You’re in love and someone else is horning in. Well, bound to happen with a woman that beautiful. When a woman looks like that, loves like that... and make no mistake, that woman lives and dies on your smile, when she loves like that... it attracts other men, like males to a doe in heat. Cause they know that they’re not really gonna get that for themselves, down deep... in their guts. And it kills ‘em to see someone else get it.”

Stan looked at the short old man. “And... this solves my problem how?”

The old man grinned. “Solves it? Nope, not at all. My boy, your only, and I mean ONLY solution is to grow yourself a backbone. Starting right now. Either someone is worth taking a risk for, or they’re not. Either you be a man or you don’t.”

Stan grimaced and turned to walk back inside.

“Good luck, son.” The old man waved his pipe and watched Stan wlk back inside.

Stan brushed the snow off his shoulders and walked into the warm ballroom again. The sights and sounds of revelry hit him like a wave, and he paused on the doorstep to gather his wits.

Out on the dance floor, Stan could see the girl in the arms of Evan, taking a spin and then a dip. Her smile was infectious and Stan watched her for a long moment.

Stan stood a moment, lost in thought. For a while, his rage, his upset clouded his thinking. All he could imagine was walking out there and sucker punching Evan.

After a time, he turned and went back to the table. He approached Dennis and whispered in his ear. Dennis listened for a moment, then a slow grin formed. He smiled at Stan and the two of then went into the mens room.

In the mens room, both entered the same stall. From outside an observer would have heard some rustling of clothes, then Stan left the stall, followed shortly by Dennis.

As Stan walked onto the dance floor, Dennis approached the DJ and leaned over to talk to him.

Stan slowly walked onto the dance floor, headed for the girl. When he arrived, he tapped the Evan on the shoulder. Evan turned in surprise. “What do you want?”

“I believe you’re dancing with my date. May I cut in?” Stan said slowly.

Evan looked at him and said under his breath. “You’re digging your grave here, asshole.”

Stan’s voice was shy, diffident. “What do you mean, Mr. Porter?”

Evan shot Stan a look full of malice. The girl stepped back as Evan put his face inches from Stan’s. “Look, Stan... you’re obviously a COMPLETE MORON. It’s simple.” He hissed at Stan. “I’m either going to destroy you, ruin you, use my connections here in town to fuck you over like a ten dollar whore... OR.. or you’re going to play ball, make sure I get this nice piece of ass as my toy, just like I fucked the CEO’s wife, and I get you a promotion. If you don’t play along with me... not only will I get you fired, I’ll speak to my good friend the chief of police. And I’ll bet someone finds drugs in your apartment. Now fuck off.”

Stan nodded and stepped back. “Okay, I understand.” He smiled at the girl and leaned over so she could hear him over the music. “You dance with him, okay?”

The girl frowned in concern, and started to say something. Evan grabbed her up and they went back to dancing, as Stan made his way across the floor again.

Stan walked over to Dennis, and they talked for a minute. Stan handed the DJ a fist full of bills, and then fished a small black box out from under his coat. Out on the dance floor, Evan and the girl danced under the mirror ball and midnight approached.

Stan straightened his clothes again and walked back out onto the dance floor.

He approached the couple.

“I’ve decided, Evan.”

“And?” The executive said, looking at Stan.

“I’m here to dance with my date. I’m cutting IN.” Stan pushed Evan aside and took the girl’s arm. Evan glanced around, and noted the stares beginning to occur. He whispered to Stan. “You’re an idiot, I’ll ruin you.” And he stepped back.

The girl hugged Stan in delight and said. “I didn’t know you could dance, Stan!”

He looked at her with a soft smile. “I can’t. Now teach me.”

She took his hand, placed it on her waist, and slowly the two began an awkward waltz as she whispered into his ear. Those watching could see Stan’s eyes glisten in the ballroom light as she led him through the dance.

At the end of the dance, the band broke into the New Years eve rendition of Auld Lang Syne, and the crowd began their count down.

Stan and Noel shuffled in a slow circle on the dance floor and kissed. She held him tight and whispered in his ear how happy she was. He held her tight enough to never let her go.

“I want you to be mine forever, Noel.”

“I want to be yours forever, master.”

“That prick in marketing is going to get me fired. I’ll have to get another job.”

“I should get started on your resume then, master.”

“We may have to move.”

“I should rent a van then, master.”

“Is there anything you won’t do for me, Noel?”

“No master, nothing.”

Stan turned and waved at Dennis, was had been waiting near the DJ. Dennis nodded at the man, and suddenly the music stopped. A voice boomed out over the loudspeaker system.

“It’s simple.” The voice was clearly Evan’s. “I’m either going to destroy you, ruin you, use my connections here in town to fuck you over like a ten dollar whore... OR.. or you’re going to play ball, make sure I get this nice piece of ass as my toy, just like I fucked the CEO’s wife, and I get you a promotion. If you don’t play along with me... not only will I get you fired, I’ll speak to my good friend the chief of police. And I’ll bet someone finds drugs in your apartment. Now fuck off.”

The hall went completely silent. Mark Jacobs, the company CEO turned and looked at Porter, who was suddenly the center of a small but rapidly growing empty circle.

Porter’s face turned white, and his mouth opened and closed slowly, but no words came out.

Over the loudspeaker, the MP3 player / recorder that had been hidden by Stan under his tuxedo jacket repeated itself, then repeated again.

The woman who had been dancing with Mark Jacobs the CEO fled the room in tears. Jacobs himself crossed his arms and stared at Porter, who silently turned and walked out of the hall, head down.

As he passed, Stan said quietly. “People like you ... you’re a disease. You think you’re entitled to everything.”

* * *

Out on the balcony, the old man opened a tattered notebook, flipped through a couple pages, then found an entry with Stan’s name on it. He made a small check mark, then nodded to himself and closed the book. He turned and walked out into the night.

In the distance, people cheered the new year.

* * *

Stan took Noel home. That night, for the first time in his life, Stan made love to a woman. Afterwards, he held her in his arms as she cried. The warm tears landed on his chest, and he smiled a soft, slow smile to himself.

The End.