The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Sometimes looking this good can be kind of irritating. I know that sounds terrible, like I’m so stuck up, but bear with me. I was working this case on a gorgeously sunny afternoon in London during the spring of 2003. As I wandered around the Green Park area, my outfit was drawing more attention than I was in the mood for. It was this Emma Peel meets Japanese mod schoolgirl type thing. As the day wore on, the novelty of my snug little sleeveless vest and skirt wore off. It was like, hey ticket attendant guy, my eyes are up here! Sheesh. I wasn’t feeling nearly as extroverted as I had when I’d gotten dressed that morning. Girls, you can relate, right?

And I definitely regretted the knee-length go-go boots: my dogs were barking.

Mostly, I felt so bitchy because I was tired. I’d just flown into Gatwick the night before, and I’d been pounding the pavement all day. Today’s job had me walking all over the place looking for a suspect, and I was prone to fits of daydreaming. So every five minutes I found myself spacing out on an old memory.

“Transfer to Geneva with me!” Max is pleading as she works the buttons of my cocktail dress.

“Baby, not now.” I don’t want to talk about this. I just want to get her out of her pumps and onto her back so we can get busy, but she’s a little drunk from the party. “Be still.”

Max complies. “As you wish,” she slurs dreamily.

“That’s not what I meant.” I’m frowning, trying to derail one of our last nights together from its well-worn tracks.

When I have her out of her dress, she says, “Get the spray. Hypnotize me.”

“Akiko, I’ve got a positive ID.” The crackly voice in my head startled me right out of my daydream.

“Talk to me, Roddy.” Teensy implants used my skull as both a microphone and a speaker membrane, so I could talk to my colleagues with no visible hardware. Cool, if you didn’t mind looking like a loony in public.

“There’s a young girl who fits the profile coming up Monck Street.”

“Who spotted her?”

“I did. Akiko, I’m pretty sure it’s her.”

Roddy was my only friend left from my Nepthys days, and he was my assistant on this case. “If you say it’s her, then it’s her, bud. I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

We had lots of studly British operatives spread out in the area, and I had to keep at least some of them between the girl Roddy had just spotted and the trial witness that she was supposedly on her way to kill. I radioed instructions as I trotted up Piccadilly. Seconds later a black British spookmobile pulled up to me at the curb. The driver smiled and waved me in.

“St. Ann’s please, Simon!” I said, slipping into the passenger seat. A dull ache went through my heels as the car eased into traffic. Yeah, the go-go boots were a bad idea. It was up to the driver to shuttle me over to the action now, so with nothing to do I slipped back into my jetlag-induced stupor.

“Can’t we just fuck?” I’m asking Max. “Why not give that spray a rest?”

“It’s so hot when you spray me, baby. I can’t get enough!” Max is tugging at my skirt.

“I’m getting tired of that game.”

“What if I spray you this time?” Max suggests hungrily.

I sigh. Run my fingers along her muscular thigh. “You know I don’t like that very much.”

Max giggles as she tries to prop herself up on one elbow. “I think we both know that’s a lie.”

I look down at the bedspread as Max plays with my hair. Sighing again, I tell her, “Okay. You can spray me. But only a little.”

This three-year-old memory wasn’t sitting too well, so I made myself snap out of it. Traffic on Victoria Street this time of day was fairly thick, so it would probably be a few minutes before I could catch up to my partner. “Status, Roddy.”

“She’s nearing St. Ann’s, and the team’s pulling back. So far, so good.”

Simon coughed politely. “I’m not sure how much longer we’ll be, ma’am. You might have better luck if I let you off at Broadway and you take the rest on foot.” Bless his heart.

“I see how it is,” I razzed. “You got other fares to chase down.”

He smiled charitably at my lame joke and pulled over the next chance he got. I was out of that car like a shot, dodging government types with briefcases as I sprinted over to Old Pye. In a hurry to see what my partner had found.

We rarely worked the same cases, but during those days Roddy and I hung our hats at the Global Intelligence Agency; the next thing up the food chain after Nepthys. I no longer worked for Keeley, and Nepthys didn’t exist anymore, but I’ll get to all that later. Today, a closed hearing was in progress down at New Scotland Yard; very hush-hush, run jointly by GIA and the British government. A few days earlier, the prosecution team said they had a surprise witness, which caused a firestorm at HQ, although I still knew fuck-all about it. Two days later, GIA intercepted details of an assassination attempt on said witness. So there I was, running around London with no idea why I was there or what any of this was about. But you know what? Welcome to the life of a secret agent.

Old Pye led me to St. Ann’s, and I immediately spied my dreamy black partner from Bristol, waiting across the street. He’s hard to miss at six five. Roddy was playing it cool, but he was definitely scoping someone. I knew better than to just gawk in the same direction. “I’m here. You still got her?”

“Yes. About twenty yards away.”

“Is everyone in position?” I asked on our public frequency. All my lads assured me that they were. “Be cool. We don’t know if this is our girl yet. Just shadow her and watch what she does.”

I pulled out my cell phone and pretended to check my messages, while Roddy seemed to read a paper. He looked the other way, so I risked a glance at the girl. Way down the street, a little blonde with a guitar case stepped around some tourists. She had a stylishly messy bob, with pretty red accent strands, and she fit the description from the intel exactly. There was something weird about her, though. Something in her body language; the way she moved with complete focus, and the way she picked her way through the crowd, eyes straight ahead.

Her behavior caused a familiar twinge between my legs. “Shit, Roddy. This kid’s been programmed.”

He knew me well enough to believe me. “Well then, I think this is your area. What do you recommend?”

“Listen up everybody,” I said. “This is our mark. She’s been conditioned, seems to be extremely focused on her work. That means she’s more likely to notice us, so don’t draw attention to yourselves until I give the word.”

That was good advice. Wish I’d followed it myself. But I was too busy watching this little blond robot across the street, remembering what it felt like to be in a trance, and what Max and I had discovered later on our own; that we were addicted to it.

God, she was so hot! I tried not to stare at her curvy bod. Or at her cute blond do with its fashionably messy bits sticking up here and there. The wide-eyed look on her cherubic face was such a turn-on.

I’m breathing heavily and the room is spinning. “Max! You gave me too much! Nooooo.” My neck gives out like I’m a newborn.

“You know you love it, Agent Masumi,” Max is cooing in my ear. “The way your head keeps getting lighter and lighter and lighter. Baby, you got no choice. Give in and give it up to me.” She’s peeling off my dress and talking real nasty and the words are sticking in the soft tissue of my brain like darts. Her words are predictions of the future, and they come true one after the other.

I wake up in the morning with a pounding headache. Max is still asleep. I’m sticky and sore and swollen in all kinds of places that still hum from sex. I feel just awful, and I know that if I stick with Max I’ll wake up tomorrow feeling the same way. Quietly, I gather up a few things. On the way out, I kiss Max softly on the lips. She doesn’t stir.

I blinked. I was still staring at Ms. Thing across the street, but now she was staring right back! Sizing me up with such stunning intensity that my knees knocked together. I was pinned where I stood; mesmerized by a mesmerized girl, like it was a communicable disease, not just a deep-seated kink of mine. I was still thinking about her piercing green eyes when I realized she was gone.

“Fuck! I’ve lost her,” Roddy yelled in my head. Across the street, he threw up his hands.

I came clean. “She saw me. We’ve been made. Tighten it up around my position.” I was convinced that I’d just screwed up the whole mission, and I was so tired and disoriented that I felt like crying. If my biorhythms hadn’t been so fucked up, I would have been much more of a trooper.

Roddy trotted over to me and gave my arm a squeeze. “Steady on. We’ll find her.”

“Thank you, baby,” I murmured, brushing away a tear.

He studied the street around us. “I think she’ll go the most direct way possible,” he prompted, pointing at an alley further up the street.

I nodded, sniffling, and pulled Roddy after me as I broke into a run. “Hayden, Thomas!” I yelled over the radio. “Are you guys covering the doors?”

“Affirmative,” Hayden answered.

“Good. Everyone, close in around the goalies. The striker is moving in to score.” Earlier that morning, I had instantly endeared myself to the boys when I’d made an offhanded football analogy. Seemed to make it easier for them to take orders from a little Japanese chick.

“Akiko, I see her!” Hayden radioed. Roddy and I rounded the corner just in time to see the girl, very close to Hayden up at the main entrance to the GIA building. He smoothly pulled his pistol and drew a bead. Other ops were arriving to form a wary circle around her. Wild-eyed, she tried to track all of them. She obviously wasn’t expecting GIA to have advance knowledge of her little mission.

“Carefully, guys!” I cautioned. The girl dropped her guitar case (with unassembled sniper rifle inside, no doubt) and went into a defensive crouch. The effect was more adorable than intimidating, so she didn’t really deter my team. Having been called cute nearly every day of my life, and having killed people, I knew better. “Don’t use force! Wait ‘til I get there!”

No way were my guys gonna wait for me to save them from this slip of a girl. It’s not that they were reckless, they just didn’t know what they were up against. Hayden stepped toward the girl, gun raised, and I saw a blonde blur, a kick, his gun flying out of his hand, a second kick to his face, and poor Hayden coming down hard on the steps. Thomas was next, and by the time Roddy and I got there, six of our operatives lay in a heap around her.

“Sweet Jesus!” Roddy swore.

“Let me handle this,” I growled.

At this, the would-be assassin snapped around to face me, striking an unfamiliar stance. She was flushed and breathing heavily. Glaring at me in a weird, unfocused way. She was a serious cutie, but my job was to neutralize her.

I cracked my knuckles, dropped into a low stance of my own and winked at her. Her eyes flicked over to her guitar case in the middle of the road. As we circled each other, Roddy carefully stepped behind me to snag it. My watch timer chirped: our witness was starting his testimony, and we had just collected the assassin’s weapon. “It’s over, sweetie,” I said. “C’mon, let us help you out.”

She screamed and launched herself at me. I got the feeling she was a pretty good fighter without the hypnotic edge. Her kicks and punches came slightly faster than I could counter, so I took a few to the ribs and one in the leg before backing off. But she wouldn’t let me get away from her. She kept close, trying to knock me down with absurdly fast attacks.

Sometimes I get to this certain zone when I’m sparring. I sort of stop thinking, and a calm comes over me. Not many people can bring me to that level, but this fiery little kid pushed me until I began to react to her punches without thinking. There was simply a moment where her attacks met my blocks solidly and she couldn’t get through anymore. At that point, we were in our own little world. Our rhythms matched, and if she hadn’t been trying to kick my ass it would’ve been profoundly beautiful. I watched her sea foam tourmaline eyes, seeking out the patterns in her attack. She was so pissed! But she was also fragile, and I was hesitant to hurt her.

I couldn’t lose sight of my job, though. So I braced my palms on her shoulders and sprang into the air, completing a graceful arc over her head to land noiselessly behind her. Before she could finish turning around, I thumped a vital pressure point behind her ear. She hissed, then collapsed, sliding against me on her way to the street. Shut down.

I bent over to catch my breath, and Roddy gave me a hearty pat on the back. “Nicely done!”

As I turned to thank him I noticed several figures looking out at us from the lobby. Some of the GIA London brass, looking real happy. My reputation was secure, for the moment.

“I’m not sure what impresses me more,” Roddy commented, as our compatriots groaned and started to pick themselves up off the street. I moved out of the way as the rest of our team surrounded the fallen assassin to take her into custody.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“The fact that you took her down after she went through six men twice your size, or...” he demurred.

“What, what, what?” I demanded playfully, shaking him by the collar.

He cocked an eyebrow. “The fact that you did it in go-go boots and a mini.”

I smiled shyly at him. Sometimes it’s annoying, being this hot. This wasn’t one of those times.

This was the kind of debriefing I liked: the kind where I hadn’t fucked anything up and I wasn’t getting yelled at. The head of the London GIA office divided his attention between me and the report in his hands, each framed in a segment of his bifocals. “Ms. Masumi, I’m impressed. How did you know the suspect was under the influence of mind control?”

I squirmed in my chair a little and winced. A beat passed, and Chief Fothergill coughed nervously as he figured it out. “Ah. I did read your file. Yes, of course, you knew from your experience as Min Sect’s captive. Sorry to bring it up.”

“It’s okay, sir. I just don’t like talking about it, is all.”

“Of course.” The Chief paged through the report as I waited patiently and admired his gigantic oak desk. “You might be pleased to know that the young girl, Siobhan McKenna, will be released.”

“Released?” I squeaked. Then I found my composure. “You’re releasing the assassin?”

“Quite. We discovered that she was an innocent civilian, abducted by some local nasties and brainwashed with instructions from a group in Azerbaijan. We’re in the process of deprogramming her, and soon she’ll be back home, safe and sound.”

“Oh. That’s nice.” I wished the Chief hadn’t brought up Siobhan. After a few victory pints with Roddy and the guys, I’d stumbled into my hotel bed and dreamed about her all night. Somehow, it was depressing to find out she wasn’t a deadly international terrorist. Imagining her as, say, a teacher was distinctly less sexy.

“At any rate, your exemplary performance on yesterday’s assignment has prompted new orders from Central.”

“Thank you, sir.” Inside, I groaned. Orders from Central meant I wasn’t going back to California anytime soon.

He slipped a glossy binder out of a manila envelope. “There has been an unusually high number of abductions in the Pacific Rim over the last few months. Young, pretty girls, all of them. Our intel on the group responsible is very sketchy. But we think they’re powerful and well connected.” He put the binder down and looked at me. “And we think they’re brainwashing these girls to become a work force of some kind.”

I crossed my legs and bit my lip. “What’s this got to do with me?”

“Central feels you’re uniquely suited for Marlin. It’s a classified division of GIA devoted to mind control related terrorism.”

“A whole department devoted to mind control?” I asked. The Chief nodded. I was starting to feel ill. “Named after a fish?”

Fothergill removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Akiko, I know this is uncomfortable for you. I know that you specifically asked to avoid any kind of field activity that might put you in a similar situation to the Min Sect mission.”

“And does Central know that?” I didn’t mean to be rude to the Chief, but I couldn’t help it. “I mean, Jesus. I didn’t think it would be too much to ask. That’s the only type of assignment I won’t do. I’ll defuse bombs, I’ll even work in India, for cryin’ out loud!”

“Akiko...” he sighed. “That mission was three years ago. Because of your efforts, Min Sect was utterly destroyed. Nepthys fulfilled its charter and was retired after a decade of fighting Korjdaan and his cronies. Hundreds of operatives and millions of pounds were freed up to focus on other problems. Don’t you see what kind of good you could do?”

I leaned over and put my hands on his. “Sounds like my fate’s already sealed, but please, Chief, is there anything you can do for me? Do you have any idea how humiliating that was?” Or how hot and wet I get whenever I remember? I didn’t add.

He clasped my hands just like my dad does. “I’m afraid Central’s orders stand. They feel that you’re the best new operative for the division, and for this case. And Akiko, I think you underestimate yourself. The higher-ups are grooming you for a Director’s chair, in case it isn’t obvious to you.”

I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I tried a brave little smile and almost pulled it off.

The Chief patted me on the arm. “Now. You need to get yourself packed. You’ve got to be in Tokyo by tomorrow.”

Holy fuck: Tokyo! I was back, for the first time in maybe ten years. It was exciting to be here, even though I was so whipped from my flight that the only thing I could manage on my first night was a hot bath in my hotel room.

The tub was small, but then again so am I, so I didn’t have too much trouble getting comfortable. I had a hot washcloth over my eyes and a little Suntory scotch from the minibar within arm’s reach. The television gibbered quietly in the other room; the constant flow of my first language made me so happy.

For the first time in a few days, I didn’t have to be anywhere for about fourteen hours. I planned to sleep for most of it due to the two massive time zone changes my body had endured in the space of a week. The rosemary-scented bath was finally winning out over the foul stink of air travel that one acquires on long flights. I adjusted my washcloth, clipped my hair on top of my head in one messy pile, and let the waterline lap against my shoulders.

I thought about dinner as I lit another cigarette (the joys of international travel-smoking in your hotel room!). With every sip of scotch, a Yakitori place sounded better and better. If I could stay awake long enough, that is.

Like clockwork, Siobhan’s angelic face came to me as I drowsed in the tub. I’d been thinking of her non-stop during every idle moment ever since our encounter. It had been so long since I’d seen someone so beautiful. So... entranced. Yep, she really did it for me. And now I finally had time to reflect on that. I slipped a hand into the water and teased myself while I dreamed of her.

I chilled like that for a while, smoking with one hand, strumming myself with the other. Thinking about all kinds of naughty things, just tipsy enough to ignore the voice in my head that objected to my thoughts about that hypnotized hottie. Yeah... her pretty green eyes. That full red bow of a mouth. Her hard little bod. I took another drag and noticed that my warm fingers had slipped inside me. My sweet nectar slowly mixed with the bathwater.

Her hard little bod... For a civilian, Siobhan was awfully buff. I thought about her teardrop butt and wondered what she did for a living. Then I thought about spreading those cheeks and commanding her to accept something big and.... Mmmmmmmm. I was starting to rev up for real, now. I put out my cigarette so I could concentrate on getting off.

I fantasized about commanding her to lay face down on my hotel bed as I slowly stuffed a big pink dildo into her ass. I told her to relax and take it in, that relaxing would help her to obey me. Then I started whispering to myself. “Obey... Obey... Obey...”

I had the presence of mind to move the scotch to the floor before I sank into the water and quivered with my first O. I thought about tasting the valley between her pert round boobs and had to cover my mouth as the second one ripped through me. I was usually pretty loud during sex, but I was sorta trained to at least make a stab at being discrete about it.

Long flights leave me pretty tense, so I wasn’t quite satisfied yet. I cradled my left boob and started to knead. This time in the fantasy, I commanded Siobhan to ravish me. The hot bathwater, the orgasms and the scotch had me nice and mellow, so the fantasy unveiled itself patiently and in great detail.

She started licking at my collarbone, making agreeable little slave noises. I let her paint her lust in little spirals down my chest as I slowly guided her by the scruff of the neck. The water lapped at me in the tub, and I imagined what her tongue might feel like. Just before she got south of my belly button, she rose up on her haunches and fixed me with the same stern, appraising glare from yesterday on that street in London. Somehow free of her trance, she dominated me quicker than a drill sergeant. My fantasy self mewed at having the tables turned, but quietly slipped into her thrall. I rose up on my knees, then knelt before her sex.

“Do me,” she whispered.

I stuffed a fist into my mouth as I came, but I couldn’t stop my little daydream just yet. Before I could plunge my face into her, she lifted my chin and slipped a piece of candy into my mouth. Mmmmm, sour apple. She let me go, which I took as permission to proceed. Tentatively, I licked. Her taste mingled with the candy as my eyelids fluttered. I plunged my tongue inside her, loosening her up, and her hipbones ground against my face. In a deft move I’m not sure I could pull off for real, I pushed the candy up inside her pussy with my stiff tongue, leaving it there so I could try and make her clit just as hard. Soon my chin was sticky with musky, sour apple yumminess as I buzzed her love button. Her hot little hands wrapped themselves up in my hair as I worked her, harder and harder. As her hips began to quake, she shoved me away from her little garden, crammed my nose into her tummy. Her wail became mine before I could muzzle it, and I’m sure the whole floor of the hotel was privy to the pleasing conclusion of my naughty fantasy.

When my fingers stopped shaking, I downed the rest of the scotch.

It was 0800 and I felt pretty good. Any second now, a car from Marlin was supposed to pick me up. I passed the time in the lobby by reading a Japanese newspaper and fussing over my clothes. Today called for a good impression, so it was a sharp black spook outfit for me. Sensible shoes, suit, the works. The black Prada jacket was maybe a little flashy, but a girl has to maintain her rep.

“Sumimasen. Anata wa Masumi-san desu ka?” someone inquired politely. I looked up from my paper to answer, but was caught off guard by the cute Latino guy leaning over me. He smiled in anticipation of my reaction.

“Er... Hai! Watashi wa Masumi Akiko...Yes, that’s me!” I stood up and folded my paper under my arm. He bowed perfectly and I returned the gesture. My bow was lower than his, of course. It was going to be a few days before I got reacquainted with all the uncool female cultural stuff that had pissed off my mom so much. That didn’t mean I had to like it.

“So, do you prefer English?” he asked.

“Either way is fine,” I demurred. He had dreamy brown eyes.

“If you don’t mind, let’s speak English together. I don’t get to as often as I’d like. My name’s Alejandro Cortazar. Please call me Alex.” He shook my hand firmly and flashed a very nice smile.

“Hajimemashite,” I purred. “Thanks for coming to pick me up.”

Next came the obligatory exchange of business cards. After carefully pocketing mine, Alex indicated the exit. “Shall we?”

He was driving a nice black Beemer, which stood out a little in traffic. As we got under way, I couldn’t help smiling at the early morning Shibuya scene outside my window.

“Been awhile since you last saw Tokyo?” he asked.

“Uh huh. I visited my grandparents back in ‘90.” When I was about fifteen, I realized.

“I’ve lived here for about as long. I love it.”

I glanced at him sidelong. Couldn’t figure out his age. “Been with Marlin the whole time?”

He smiled. “No. Other branches, other units.”

“I see.”

“They thought you’d be more comfortable with a non-native, so I’ll be your partner for this assignment. We’ll have a little help, but it’ll be mostly just us.”

This was rockin’ good news. “Well, I’m looking forward to working with you.” Cutie.

I swear he read my mind, from the look on his face. “Likewise,” he replied, making me blush. Luckily for this girly girl, he got down to business. “There are formalities to go through at headquarters, but I thought we’d go straight into the field first. Is that alright?”

“Depends on what you mean by ‘into the field’.”

“There was another abduction last night that fits our profile. A girl was taken from her apartment over in Harajuku. I’d like to check it out before the scene gets too contaminated. We’ll get you up to speed after lunch.”

I was relieved that we weren’t going to do something more involved, like storm the evil mind control laboratory before I even had my ID badge. “Suits me.”

He glanced at me during a stoplight, as a couple hundred pedestrians streamed by in front of us. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re not what I expected.”

I grinned at him. “I get that a lot. What were you expecting, exactly?”

“Well, I read your dossier. The unclassified parts, anyway. You’ve taken down some pretty tough hombres. I know this sounds awful, but somehow I thought you’d be... taller.”

I just rolled my eyes and laughed.

He covered his face briefly. “I’m sorry. But your reputation preceded you. In person you look so, uh, delicate.”

“I’ll go ahead and let you think that, if it makes you feel better about yourself,” I said sweetly. I was floored by his impression of me. I mean, how could a guy live in Japan for as long as he had and still maintain such notions? I got the feeling maybe he liked dating Japanese girls, but having one for a partner was a different story. I got serious. “Alex, if you’re worried about whether or not I can get your back, don’t be.”

His eyes met mine, and he started to say something, but I guess he felt like he’d stuck his foot in it enough for one morning, so he just nodded and went back to driving.

“What are we looking for?” I was tripping out on the cramped apartment Alex wanted to investigate. The living room was also a kitchen! You couldn’t see the walls for all the books, CD’s and videotapes. The missing girl—Hinano Sakurai—was some kind of critic for a magazine, and it looked like she was a serious collector. I saw tons of spaghetti westerns, slasher flicks, Nick Cave records and, inexplicably, lots of Neil Diamond.

Alex scanned the room carefully. “Look for things that don’t belong.”

I left the living room to him and focused on the tiny bedroom. It was an explosion of hyper-girly things: stuffed animals, idol posters, barrettes strewn all over the Sesame Street comforter on the bed. But there were no signs of a violent struggle. Just the familiar patterns of a busy career woman. My guess was that the assailant had a key or was let in by Hinano herself. Her best friend Ami, who lived across the hall, said in her police statement that they’d had a conversation in the hallway at around 2300, just before her usual bedtime. Two hours later, she’d heard a strange noise out in the hall, and discovered Hinano’s open door. There had been no sign of her. Unfortunately, I could think of lots of ways she might be abducted without a trace.

“I dunno, Alex,” I said. “I think we need to get some forensics people in here.”

“We will. Later. Just humor me, please. Try to find something that doesn’t belong in this apartment. We’ll go soon.”

Since I’d only been officially working with Alex for about fifteen minutes, I decided not to express my feelings for his New Age detective methods just yet. Something that doesn’t belong... I scanned the shelves in her room again. Hinano’s tastes were a little too eclectic for me to figure out, so I looked for other stuff. The crap on her bed was just that; the normal stuff that piles up in the course of a sixty-hour workweek. Underwear, barrettes, socks, the odd yen or train ticket stub. Nothing weird there. I looked at the clump of stuffed animals surrounding her tiny yellow TV. They were mostly little animals, except for...

One of them was a Sailor Scout doll. Sailor Jupiter, to be exact. On picking it up, I noticed a small gift tag wrapped around the leg. It read “To Hinano, with love.” In English. The doll was heavy, so I fooled around with it to see if it was motorized or something. It didn’t seem to do anything at all! But there was obviously something inside the torso.

I didn’t notice the drowsiness until after I sat down on the bed with the doll. At first I just chalked it up to my big breakfast, but when I found myself sprawled on my back, seeing stars, I knew something was wrong. “Alex...” It barely came out as a whisper. Oh man, something was kicking my ass but good!

In the other room, Alex was oblivious, trying to fill me in. “In the past eight cases, there was always something planted in the residence by the abductor. Usually a gift to the victim. We don’t know what they do, but they’re valuable evidence.”

All I knew then was that Sailor Jupiter wanted me to go to sleep. I could feel some kind of field emanating from the doll, heavy on my chest. It blunted all my thoughts. “Alex... help...” My hands flopped onto the bed uselessly.

Alex was saying something else, but his voice receded in a rush of noise; the static of a fainting spell. Right before I passed out, I had a bitter thought: this was a very bad omen for me and my new gig. My fears about Marlin were about to all come true.