The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

As Day Follows Night Part 3

“And you see a girl’s brown body, dancing through the turquoise,
And her footprints make you follow where the sky loves the sea.
And when your fingers find her, she drowns you with her body,
Carving deep blue ripples in the tissues of your mind.”
—Cream, “Tales of Brave Ulysses”

The Sun shone through the open balcony doors into the bedroom of the castle. It cast its beam across the marbled floor, onto the Persian rug, across the king-sized bed, and onto the face of Contessa Helena de San Finzione. She opened one eye slightly and the light entered it as well.

Helena grumbled and turned over, burying her face in the long, black hair of the woman sleeping next to her. The memory that she had things to do today pounded on her one-quarter conscious mind like an old fishing buddy shouting on her lawn about how they need to get to the lake before sun-up.

She reached for the button to summon Maria before remembering that Maria was whose shampoo she was, at that moment, smelling; some tropical blend, heavy on the coconut. Helena put her arm around her maid and her hand brushed over something hairy. Finding Maria’s sunflower-colored wig that had come off at some point in their evening’s activities, La Contessa hurled it behind her in the general direction of the vanity and softly kissed the girl to consciousness, tasting herself on Maria’s lips.

“Mmm…good morning, Contessa. What shall I bring you for breakfast?”

Helena sat up and grabbed the silk nightgown that hung on her bedpost. “We’ll get something in town. Start a bath, we’re going out and we’ll need to get cleaned up and dressed for shopping.”

“Si, Contessa,” the maid said as she made her way off of the bed and toward the bathroom.

Helena lit a cigarette and checked her messages. The Prefect of Police had sent along the reports from last night. After church, Troy and Julie had gone to a local taverna; where Troy performed a karaoke number, then they spent the rest of the evening there talking with the locals. Each of the four officers’ reports included personal notes to the same effect: Why were they following a pair of American tourists when there were real crimes going on in San Finzione? The Prefect was planning disciplinary actions for the question.

That gave her a little smile, and she messaged back to tell him to let them off the hook, but take the officers off the surveillance and assign different ones, reiterating not to approach the couple. Troy had gotten to them; the lack of profanity in the reports told her that it had been him rather than Julie.

Maria emerged from the bathroom a minute later. “Your bath is drawn, Contessa. I shall return to my quarters to prepare myself.” She gave a little smile and a wink. “Unless La Contessa has need of my services and wishes to conserve water.”

Helena set the phone down and removed her gown. She walked over to her maid and put her arm around the girl.

“Well, we MUST always set a good example for the people,” Helena said as she kissed Maria.

They walked into the bathroom together.

* * *

Julie tapped her mimosa glass on the coffee table. “I hereby declare this first meeting of the San Finzione chapter of the Helen Is A Big Poopyhead Club open.”

“Wow, you saved the sign all these years, hon,” Troy said, coming out of the bathroom in his great-grandfather’s smoking jacket and looking at the old, faded Sharpie-and-glitter covered paper sign on the wall behind her announcing that Helen was, indeed, a Big Poopyhead. He took a seat next to Julie on the couch.

“It’s going into the foreword of my first art book, Master.”

“Are you sure it’s safe to talk about this stuff in the hotel room,” Susan asked from the Skype conference on the laptop in front of Julie. “Or over their wifi?”

“Helen owns every hotel in the city,” Troy said as he leaned forward to pile some scrambled eggs and bacon onto a piece of toast from the room service platter. “And she’s had us followed since we got off the plane, but she wouldn’t stoop to bugging our room or monitoring our internet.” He took a bite of the little breakfast sandwich he’d made. “She’d consider it unsporting.”

“You have some twisted friends,” Brenda said from her box on Skype.

“Yeah, thanks for calling me back to the room at the party so I didn’t get to meet her,” Claire said from her window. “You two owe me an iPad now!” Everyone laughed.

“Order,” Julie said. Still giggling and rapping her empty glass against the table again, then handing it to Troy to refill. “Ideas we’re stealing from Helen come later in the agenda, after the Two Minutes of Cattiness.”

“I’ve never liked that part of the meetings, Mistress,” Troy said as he refilled her drink, and then poured himself a plain orange juice.

“That’s why you’re only Treasurer and Timekeeper, hon,” Julie replied with a pat on his knee. “Now then: Yesterday’s activities went well. We kept her from making the kind of lavish entrance she lives for, and her police searched the hotel room but didn’t find the trunk. This means that today, she’ll go on the offensive and try to approach us on her terms.”

Troy finished his half-sandwich and started making one for Julie as he chimed in. “She’s very focused on short-term objectives. We’re going to the marketplace later; she’ll probably ‘run into us’ there, likely on the pretext of a shopping spree. So we’re going to put ourselves out there and we’ll need the rest of you operating behind the scenes. How’s the net stuff going, Susan?”

“Better than I expected. I didn’t even know San Finzione had a Craigslist. That’s been helpful.”

Troy nodded. “Ok, so everyone work that angle, we’ll do our part; which, for today, is keeping her distracted. Now, unless we’re really going to go through the entire procedure of a meeting of the Helen Is A Big Poopyhead Club, I’d like a private word with Susan.” Julie shook her head no and Claire and Brenda did as well. They dropped the call as Julie headed for the shower.

“Don’t keep me waiting too long, Mr. Equals,” Julie said as she left the door open behind her. Troy switched Susan’s image to full-screen and scooted over to Julie’s spot to be directly in front of the camera.

“How’re you doing, hon,” he asked, taking a sip of his orange juice.

“I’m ok,” she said with a smile. “Not used to the house being so empty.”

“I’m sorry again, Susan. We’d love to have brought you with us.”

“Hey, you don’t have to apologize for not taking a third person along on what’s still your honeymoon.”

“It’s not that at all. It’s just… If we’d brought you with us, Helen would consider you fair game. She’s a black belt, and we haven’t even taught you Wax On, Wax Off yet. But we’ll start fixing that when we get home. I think you’re ready and Julie agrees; and if you do too, we can get started.”

Susan smiled. “You’re adorable when you get protective, you know that?”

Troy smiled back. “Well, if you get bored while we’re gone, Google ‘mcstories Daphne.’ Call it your first homework assignment.”

“Julie already told me about her work; she said I could use Troy 2 while I read.”

“Of all the possible reactions that I could have to Julie naming her toys after me, I choose ‘flattered.’”

Susan heard moaning over the sound of running water coming from the open door to the bathroom. “Speaking of toys, sounds like you better get in there.”

Troy took off his smoking jacket with a fake sigh. “Yep, guess it’s time to go do that husbandly duties thing. You be ok. We love you.”

“I love her too,” came a yell between moans from the bathroom.

“I said both of us,” Troy yelled back. He reached for the mouse to end the call when Susan stopped him.

“Wait,” she said. “Can you take the laptop into the bathroom?”

Troy raised an eyebrow. “Hmm… I never had a threesome from the other side of the world before.” He yelled in the direction of the bathroom door. “Mistress, can Susan join us?”

“Oh God, why’re you even asking? Bring her in!”

Troy set down his orange juice and stood up. On the screen, he saw Susan start to get up from the computer at home.

“Hey, where’re you going,” he asked as he carried the laptop to the bathroom.

“Why, to get Troy 2, of course,” Susan replied with a wink.

“You know, every once in a while, it just hits me: I love some freaky women.”

* * *

It was one on the afternoon when La Contessa and Maria were done making their way through San Finzione’s fashion district. After visiting twelve shops, 20 new outfits for Helena and 14 for Maria were being delivered to the castle. Most businesses closed from noon until 2 PM in the city, but word spread quickly that La Contessa was on a shopping spree, and they decided to remain open for her.

As the two walked back to the Ferrari, a text came in for La Contessa. Her targets had been at an outdoor café, talking to an old woman, and one of the surveillance officers had spotted La Contessa and her maid approaching their position. Helena replied that she understood and that she was safe. The officers were to keep their distance, no matter what happened.

She pulled Maria into one of the shops they’d already been to and instructed the maid to just grab items at random from the racks. When they had enough to fill three shopping bags, Helena paid for everything, took one of the bags, and instructed Maria to carry the other two.

“I know better than to question La Contessa,” Maria said as she trailed behind her with the bags. “But I cannot help think why we no have these things sent to the castle with the others?”

“We’re about to ‘bump into’ some old friends while out shopping. We should actually be carrying some shopping. And don’t walk behind me like you’re just some servant. I mean, yeah, you’re my maid, but not JUST my maid, you know?”

They rounded a corner and she saw them up ahead at the café, sitting at a table with an old woman dressed entirely in black, her head covered in a kerchief. (“Troy would call her a yia-yia,” La Contessa thought to herself as they got closer.) Helena had seen the old woman every time she passed by the café; one of those permanent fixture people who drinks her wine and watches the world go by every day.

Julie was seated with her back to them, but the big, floppy, white sun hat she’d been wearing since she arrived at the hotel was distinctive enough to spot her. A bag of their own shopping sat at her feet. As they got nearer, Troy turned his head and saw them approach. “Helen?” He asked as he rose from his seat. Julie turned her head, showing that she was still wearing the gaudy red sunglasses; and saw Helen and Maria as well. She stood as well as they both walked toward her and Helen noticed the 3/4ths-empty red wine bottle on the table. There was only one glass; presumably, they had bought the bottle for the yia-yia.

“Oh my God, Troy? Julie?” Helen said with mock surprise. She dropped her bag and ran toward them to give them both giant hugs and kisses on the cheeks. Maria dutifully picked up the bag and continued walking toward them.

“Why, Helena, we haven’t seen you since the wedding,” Julie said, acting surprised to see her right back. “And I wouldn’t have expected to see you down here amongst us peasants.” She gestured toward the castle on the hill, visible from most places in the city.

“Well, I thought building a Prada store into the castle would look tacky. And nobody calls my oldest friends peasants.” Helena pulled up a chair at an empty table. “Maria, dear, why don’t you set those things down and bring the car around? I’d like to talk with my friends here. Oh, Troy, Julie, this is Maria, my personal maid. Maria, this is that wonderful couple whose wedding I flew to America last month to attend.”

“Ciao,” the maid said with a curtsey as she set the bags down. “I see video of wedding. Is nice to meet you.”

Julie sat at the table with Helen as Troy went to politely excuse them and say goodbye to the yia-yia. “Maria seems nice,” Julie said, watching the girl walk away.

“Oh, she is,” Helen said as she took out a cigarette and lit it. She saw Julie make a frown at the cigarette. “Oh, don’t worry, honey; smoking’s only bad for Americans.”

“I don’t mind,” Julie said with a smile. “I think I’m safe. I’ve had a nice safe, secure feeling ever since our plane landed.”

“You should have called; I’d have sent my own jet to bring you.”

“Now, Helen, dear, the last thing we’d want to do is abuse your friendship. It starts with something like that, and the next thing you know, we’re having your helicopter fly us to church.”

“Oh, that was wonderful, dear, by the way. Totally played me there, I loved it. That wasn’t your whole scheme, was it?”

Julie had to push the big, red sunglasses down almost until they fell off her nose to peer at Helen over the top of them. “Any answer I gave to that question would be a criminal waste of perfectly good sarcasm.”

The old woman kissed Troy on the cheek, indicating that he’d said his goodbyes. He picked up their bag and waved goodbye to her as he walked over to join Julie and Helen; sitting between the two women and pretending to be oblivious to their efforts to incinerate each other with their heat vision.

“Hi, ladies, what’d I miss? Are we having a Scanners duel? Please don’t have a Scanners duel; I care about both of your heads too much.”

Helen laughed and put her hand on Troy’s knee just for a moment, making certain Julie noticed the contact. “Why, no, dear; I was just about to invite the two of you to the ball I’m having three nights from now.”

Julie was taken aback and tried to recover quickly. Troy seemed surprised as well. Julie was the first to speak.

“I don’t think we packed anything appropriate for that.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” said Helen, putting out her cigarette. “There’s an Armani store in the marketplace, just around the corner. Mention my name and they’ll take care of you.” Maria pulled up in the Ferrari and Helen stood up and grabbed her bags.

“There’s an Armani store in San Finzione,” Troy asked.

Helen nodded. “Ever since Giorgio came to one of my parties,” she said with a wink as she carried the bags to the car. As the passenger door opened, before Helen got in, she stopped and turned around. “I’ll send a car for you on the night; probably not this one.”

* * *

They waved as she drove away. Julie exhaled. “At least she didn’t say ‘ciao, sweetie darlings.’”

Troy stood up and offered her his hand. Julie didn’t need any help, but took it anyway.

“We denied her the flashiness,” he said as he picked up the shopping bag. “So she’s bringing us to it.”

“Well, we could just not show up,” Julie said with a smile that denoted only half-joking.

They arrived at the cross walk and Troy pressed the button for the signal. “Yes, let’s snub the woman whose name is on every building in this sovereign state and also owns the police. Let’s piss off a woman capable of calling up her own private national guard.”

“Ok, ok. It’s her party and we’ll cry if she wants to. So how do we play it?”

The light changed. Troy reflexively held out his hand and Julie instinctively took it as they crossed.

“The same way we’ve always handled everything, Mrs. Equals.”

“You’re not about to repeat that, are you? Like ‘the same way we handle everything, Mrs. Equals. The same way we handle everything.’”

“No, but you have to admit, that would have been a perfect moment for it.”

* * *

“Go around the block,” Helena told Maria. “I want to have a word with that old woman.”

“Oh, Contessa! You don’t mean…”

“Not like that. It won’t be necessary. Troy’s Propappou was important to all of us; he has a deep respect for the elderly. He wouldn’t do what we do to her.”

When they came back to the café, Troy and Julie were gone. Helena got out of the car and sat with the old woman. Her wine bottle was now empty.

“Hello, Grandmother,” Helena said to the yia-yia. She wasn’t a real relative; however, it was a custom of respect to address the old woman as Grandmother. “May I drink with you?” The old woman nodded and Helena turned to a waiter and raised her voice. “Another bottle of the same and a second glass!”

The waiter turned to see who’d been so rude as to shout from outside, then turned back again when he saw who it was and ran to the wine cellar. A few seconds later, another bottle, a second glass, and a stream of apologies from the waiter for taking so long arrived at the table. Helena filled the old woman’s glass before filling her own. The old woman nodded and clinked glasses with her.

“I am curious, Grandmother,” Helena said, taking a drink. “Those American tourists you were just speaking with, what were you talking about?”

The yia-yia spent several minutes as they talked and drank, telling La Contessa (And probably not caring or registering whom she was speaking to.) that the couple had just gotten married and wanted to know about the people she saw from her spot every day. What the people who lived and worked around her were like, what she thought of them, who was together, who wanted to be together, and who she thought should be together. It all seemed very sweet, and she was glad that a young couple as in love as they were had taken the time to stop and talk and really listen to her.

Helena finished her wine and said goodbye to the old woman. On her way back to Maria, still waiting in the Ferrari, she instructed the waiter that the old woman’s tab was to be sent to the castle for the remainder of her life. She got in and motioned for Maria to drive them home as she sat back in the seat. The places they’d been: church, the taverna, now here talking to the old woman in the marketplace; all had the same common thread of places to talk to people about other people. Getting to know their real feelings and opinions. Were they plotting a coup? Quietly fostering revolt?

No, not for a simple little wedding prank like hers. They were planning to put egg on her face somehow, not ruin her; and this involved going around and talking to old women about love and relationships?

“Ugh, this better not turn out be some ‘love is the REAL magic’ horse shit,” she said out loud to no one. Well, this little party idea was the perfect opportunity to force their hand. Oh yes, the party. She took out her phone and hit the button for her publicist. She was put through on the first ring.

“It is 2 PM on Tuesday. In 78 hours, I am throwing a ball to commemorate or fundraise or support or condemn…something; I don’t know, you find me a thing. Invite the right people, don’t invite the other right people, call the right press; just make it happen.” She put the phone away and closed her eyes. “We’re throwing a ball Friday night, Maria. When we get back, tell everyone what to do.”

“Si, Contessa. We shall be ready. But such short notice? Will people come?”

Helena turned to her maid. “Contessa Helena de San Finzione is throwing a ball. They will come.”