The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Katie Lane sat curled up on the couch in her townhouse. She wore a turquoise sweater dress on this wintry day, sipping on hot chocolate and occasionally flipping the page of her newest romance novel.

Katie was 27 years old—two years older than her younger sister Laurel. She had long brown hair instead of her sister’s red, and stood a few inches shorter than Laurel’s 5′11″ (for which Katie was particularly grateful). In fact, one of the only things the sisters shared was their bright green eyes.

Oh, and they did share Katie’s house. But not this morning, though. In a surprising turn of events, Laurel had actually woken up before Katie. Before Katie could even fry up some eggs, Laurel had dashed out the door. Something top secret, of course. Katie couldn’t help but wonder how much Laurel embellished her mysterious job at the MBI. She’s probably out on some coffee date or something, Katie thought.

Suddenly Katie heard a knock at her door. She jumped at the sound, almost spilling her hot chocolate. She didn’t usually get solicitors in Maple Mews, and rarely had anyone ever knocked on her door. She set her mug down on a coaster and stood up. As she walked to her front door, she briefly paused in front of the mirror. Her sweater dress fell to mid-thigh. Her hair wasn’t too messy. Presentable enough, she assured herself.

She peered through the peephole when she got to the door. Two young men stood outside, both with brown hair. They appeared to be the same height, and both wore dark blue coveralls. They look friendly enough. Katie slowly opened the door.

As the door swung open, she was greeted by two smiles. One of the brown-haired men started talking before the door stopped moving. “Hello, ma’am, my name is Owen,” he said, before gesturing to his partner, “and this is Ben. We’re here because the Maple Mews Homeowner’s Association called.”

She looked the two men up and down. They both looked like they were in their mid-twenties. And she was just now realizing they looked damn near identical. “Are you guys twins?”

Owen laughed, “Yes, yes, we are. Two mechanics for the price of one!”

“Mechanics?” Katie was confused. “You said the HOA called? For what?”

“Oh, you know,” Owen said, shrugging his shoulders. “Nothing too—”

“I hope they’re not complaining about the grass growing too high again.”

Owen raised his eyebrows and looked toward Ben. “Um. Well. We’re mechanics, so why would we come to your door if—”

“Sorry,” Katie shook her head. “Sometimes they can be annoying about that.”

Owen smiled. “Of course.” Then he cleared his throat. “There have been a bunch of complaints around the neighborhood. Boilers malfunctioning. The developer must have gone with the cheapest option for all these homes. Anyway, we just wanted to pop in briefly to check yours out and make sure you don’t run into any issues.”

As Owen spoke, Katie stood up on her tippy toes and looked over the twins’ heads. There was a windowless white van sitting in her driveway.

“Ma’am?” Ben piped up. “Everything alright?”

“My house is heating up just fine,” she said. “I think my boiler’s alright.”

“It’ll just take two minutes.”

“I don’t know…” She took a step back.

“We’ve gotta report back to the HOA anyone who refuses,” said Owen. “If you’re fine with us ratting you out to the HOA—”

“Fine! Come in, Jesus!”

The twins smiled. Katie stepped to the side, letting both walk in. She shut the door behind them.

Laurel sipped on her flat white as she stood in the alley behind Bean and Vine. This morning’s weather had been slightly chillier than she had expected, and she was beginning to realize that her UMon sweatshirt and jeans weren’t quite up to the task. She was relying just on the espresso and steamed milk to keep her warm.

One of the baristas at Bean and Vine had handed over the beverage. Laurel had sat down at one of the few free tables in the café, where sipped on the drink slowly, keeping her eye on her phone and counting down the minutes. As she sat at the table, she became uncomfortably aware of all the people sitting nearby, seemingly immersed in their conversations or their studies. She scanned the space, trying to assure herself that no one was watching her. She felt herself growing more paranoid by the minute. Then she realized it could look suspicious if her and dj99 walked out of the café at the same time, so she grabbed her flat white and walked out the front door.

It took her a minute to figure out how to get to the back alley. She went down one street, quickly realized it wouldn’t get her behind her building, and turned around. After damn near circling the block, she finally found the entrance to a narrow alley. She walked through it cautiously. She had no gun, and if things got messy she’d be relying solely on the pepper spray in her purse. Laurel eyed all the dumpsters and trash cans she passed by, mentally preparing herself for the moment a group of thugs would jump out and press a smelly cloth to her face.

I watch too many movies, she thought to herself as the thugs failed to materialize. She reached what she assumed was the back door to Bean and Vine, slipped her pepper spray into her jean pocket, and took a sip from her cup.

And she waited, she pulled out her phone, checked the time, and realized almost 15 minutes had passed since she had been handed the note saying, “BACK ALLEY. 10.”

She took another sip. The cold was starting to get to her. She unconsciously began to tap her foot. Then her mind returned to the potentially precarious situation she was in. Jacobson doesn’t even know where I am right now. She reached down with her free hand and felt the pepper spray in her pocket. Neither does Katie. Shit, I didn’t tell anyone I was coming here.

Her increasingly paranoid thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door creaking open. Out came the cashier with shoulder-length black hair. Her icy blue eyes were balanced out by her red lipstick.

Laurel didn’t waste any time. “Daria Jones. Dj99.”

Without even looking at her, Daria reached into her purse and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “You figure that puzzle out by yourself? I see they only let the smart ones into the MBI.”

The girl’s attitude caught Laurel off guard. “Um, well, hello. I’m Laurel. I wanted to talk to you about some of the stuff you said on—”

“Yeah, no shit,” she said as she pulled out a lighter. “Not here, though.”

“Then where?”

Daria held the cigarette in her lips and held the lighter up to her mouth. The flame flickered to life, casting an ephemeral glow over the girl’s face. Daria took a slow drag from her cigarette, exhaled a plume of smoke, and said, “Follow me.”

Seeing no other choice, Laurel walked behind Daria as she moved swiftly towards the end of the alley. The girl’s bangs bounced above her brows. Laurel quickly found herself jealous of the girl’s turtleneck sweater. I should’ve brought a fucking scarf.

They exited the alley and turned left. Daria took another drag from her cigarette. Laurel cleared her throat.

“So, you’re a student at UMon?”

“Yup. A senior.”

“Nice. I graduated a few years ago.”

“Yeah,” Daria said as she exhaled. “You seem old.”

“Excuse me?” Laurel snapped.

“Be quiet!” said Daria. “I mean—no offense.”

“You want to tell me what we’re doing here?” Laurel whispered, leaning over the much shorter Daria. “You want to tell me why I drove all the way from Spring City this morning?”

Daria looked back over her shoulder, clearly making sure no one was following them. “You know why you’re here,” she said. “Pirozhki and Kvass.”

“The import-export company?” Laurel muttered. “Yeah, I paid them a visit. Your boy—what’s his name—Orlov? Yeah, Orlov said they had a lot of cement for me to look over.”

“Don’t say his fucking name!” Daria whispered, whipping her head around. The girl’s cool façade was quickly fading.

“His name makes you nervous,” Laurel noted. “Why?”

“Because he’s the one I remember,” Daria murmured. She lifted her shaking hand up to her mouth and took another drag.

“And what is it you remember?”

Daria shook her head. “You’re going to think I’m crazy.”

“I drove all the way here, didn’t I?” Laurel laughed.

Daria looked up at Laurel with her cool blue eyes. “Yeah. I guess you’re crazy too.”

“That depends on what you have to tell me.”

Daria sighed. “Fine. Let’s turn down this street.”

They took another left. Daria coughed once then began, “The truth is I don’t remember much. That’s the fucking problem.”

Laurel took another sip from her cup. “What does that mean?”

“Either I’m losing it, or something weird is going on.”

“I can help you choose between those two possibilities,” Laurel offered. “But you need to give me more details.”

“I went in for an interview at Pirozhki and Kvass—’P&K’ is what they call it—over a year ago. I remember driving to Spring City, walking into their warehouse, waiting, sitting in Fyo’s office, talking… and then, nothing.”

“What do you mean?” Laurel asked. “What happened after you spoke to Fyo—Orlov?”

“I don’t know. The next thing I knew I was waking up in bed back here in Collegeville.” Daria leaned in. “The same fucking thing has happened to me so many times over the past year. So many nights I don’t remember. Hell, entire days that I can’t piece together.”

“Mhm,” Laurel mumbled. “Maybe P&K is just a giant drug house. You go there, get fucked up, and don’t remember anything the next day.”

“First of all,” Daria snapped, “it may surprise you to hear I’ve done drugs in the past. I never black out like that. Not for entire days. And it never happened before I had that interview.”

“What interview? I mean, what were you interviewing for?”

Daria shrugged. “It was dumb. Kinda creepy actually. I mean, I told you about this online.”

“Refresh my memory.”

Daria looked over her shoulder again before taking another drag from her cigarette. “Listen, I had a sort of—I don’t know—radical phase about a year ago. Realized America does some pretty shit stuff around the world. I started a blog where I voiced these opinions. Dumb college student stuff.”

Laurel could tell Daria was embarrassed. She took a sip from her cup and leaned over. “You wouldn’t believe some of the dumb shit I did in college. I get it.”

“Oh yeah,” Daria rolled her eyes. “You’re an MBI agent. I’m sure the craziest thing you did was turn in papers late.”

“No, there was this bonfire once… anyway, that doesn’t matter. What were you saying?”

“Anyway,” Daria started. “For the longest time it felt like I was just speaking into the void. No one ever commented on my blog. I didn’t share it with anyone. It felt more like writing in a journal than posting in public.”

“What changed?”

Daria took another drag from her cigarette. “One day I got an email. As it turned out, there was some dude named Fyodor Orlov who loved my writing. He said that I could be a ‘good fit’ at his company, and asked me to come in and interview. That’s when all this amnesia shit started happening.”

“Fyodor Orlov reached out to you out of the blue? Because he liked your blog?”

“Yes. It sounds weird saying it now, but I was kind of flattered. And I needed money, so I wasn’t going to turn down an interview.”

Laurel looked down at Daria, waiting for her to continue, but saw that her mouth was shut in a tight line, her eyes staring straight ahead. Laurel looked forward, and saw two men in suits walking towards them. One of the men glanced up and made eye contact with Laurel. She didn’t look away, and he eventually averted his eyes. The girls and the men continued to walk towards each other. Laurel could tell that Daria was moving much more stiffly now. She’s just paranoid. But Laurel felt her hand instinctually hover over her pocket, ready to pull the pepper spray if needed.

But the scene was anticlimactic. The two men passed by Laurel and Daria without saying a word. The two girls looked over their shoulders as the men passed by, but the men continued walking away, seemingly uninterested in them. Daria stopped walking.

Laurel could see Daria’s shoulders relax a bit as she breathed a short sigh of relief. “I know you think I’m paranoid,” she said as she flicked her cigarette to the ground. Her worn black boot descended on the glowing tip, extinguishing it. “Maybe I am paranoid. Maybe I’m not. Are you still considered paranoid if you’re right?”

“What are you right about?”

Daria pulled out her pack of cigarettes. “P&K is up to something. It could be a sleeper cell. Maybe sex trafficking. Possibly drugs. I’m not sure what, but I feel like it’s gotta be illegal.” Daria held the lighter up to her face, igniting the end of a new cigarette. “Orlov liked me because he thought I hated America.”

“Do you?” Laurel narrowed her eyes. “Do you hate America?”

Daria frowned. “I think we do some fucked up shit, sure. But Orlov was weirdly intense about it. I’m not like that.”

“When’s the last time you spoke to him?”

“That’s the weird thing,” Daria said, starting to walk again. “I haven’t talked to him since that interview, over a year ago. But there are so many nights—so many days I don’t remember in that time. I would wake up in my dorm room some mornings with $500 of cash in my pocket, not hungover at all. This one time, I woke up in my car on a Monday morning in the fucking parking lot of some computer chip manufacturer two hours away. All I remember is getting back from class Friday afternoon. Then I’m waking up Monday morning—in different clothes—with no memory of what happened in between.”

She’s right, that is fucking weird, Laurel thought. She hadn’t liked Daria much at first, but she had to admit she was growing on her. “You mind if I bum a cig?”

Daria raised an eyebrow. “You smoke?”

“Not really,” she smiled.

Daria let a small smile flash across her face before she reined it in. She pulled out her pack of cigarettes and let Laurel pick one out. When she had grabbed one and placed it in her mouth, Daria held her lighter up to Laurel’s face. It was a bit of a reach for Daria, so Laurel bent down. For a brief moment, the two girls looked into each other’s eyes as the small flame cast a brief, warm glow over their faces.

“Thanks,” Laurel said, standing up straight.

“No problem,” Daria mumbled. Laurel thought she could see a bit of color rush to Daria’s cheeks. She smiled. For once that cold morning, Laurel actually felt warm. Daria started walking again.

Laurel followed. “So, when was the last time you had one of these… episodes?”

Daria took another drag. “Well, for the longest time it was happening almost every weekend. Occasionally on a weeknight. But it hasn’t happened for two weeks now.”

“Well, that’s good, right?” Laurel felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She pulled it out and saw that Katie had texted her. Something about a boiler. Laurel pocketed her phone. That can wait for later.

“I guess. My doctor has no idea what my issue is. But actually having my weekends back gave me the time I needed to finally reach out to the MBI.”

“Because P&K is behind this.”

“Yes,” Daria mumbled. “And there was one last thing that really freaked me out.”

Laurel raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

Daria stopped walking, turned around so that her back was facing Laurel, and started gathering her hair into a ponytail. Instead of pulling out a scrunchie, she used her other hand to point to her nape. Laurel bent down to look where she pointed. Right above where Daria’s black hair began, there was a tiny straight line that was hairless.

“You see that scar?” Daria whispered.

Laurel leaned in closer. Yes, she could see a small scar, about an inch long. It was a clean line, the scar only slightly discolored. It looked intentional. It looked surgical.

“What’s it from?” Laurel asked.

“That’s the thing,” Daria said, letting her hair drop to her shoulders. “I have no idea. I’ve never had surgery in my life.”

“You think—you think P&K did that to you?”

“I know, it sounds crazy,” Daria’s hand reached into her pocket. “But it could explain my memory issues. And then there’s this.” She pulled out her phone and began going through pictures. “Right before I had my ‘interview’ at P&K, I went on a beach trip with a few of my friends from UMon.” Daria held her phone up to Laurel’s face.

On the screen was a picture of Daria sitting on a beach towel. She was wearing a black bikini and the picture was taken from behind. Her hair was much shorter then, and it was tied in a short ponytail. Laurel scanned the back of her neck.

“No scar,” Laurel whispered.

“No scar,” Daria repeated. She pocketed her phone and started walking again. Laurel could see the entrance to the alley coming up.

“This is all circumstantial,” Laurel started. “But there could be something here. I’m not sure.”

Daria looked up, her blue eyes wide. “So, what are you going to do?”

“I’m not going to lie, it’d be a lot easier if you remembered something—anything—I could use.”

“Yeah, that’s kinda the fucking problem. I don’t remember anything.”

Laurel scratched her head as they turned left into the alley. “But that’s not true. You said you woke up once in the parking lot of some computer chip company?” Her phone began to buzz again. She pulled it out. Katie was calling her. Laurel made a mental note to call her back and then silenced her phone.

“Yeah,” Daria took another drag from her cigarette. “Their manufacturing plant in Big Sur. It’s called CortexCraft, or something like that.”

“CortexCraft,” Laurel repeated. “I’ll look into that. Maybe I’ll stake out P&K’s warehouse too.”

“Thank you,” Daria said, coming to a stop by the back door of Bean and Vine.

“If you ever have one of those memory episodes again, give me a call.” Laurel handed her a business card.

Daria smiled briefly as she held it up to her eyes. “Laurel Lane. Special Agent.”

Laurel laughed, “Don’t you forget it.”

“Well, guess I better get back to work. My boss is probably pissed.”

“Wait,” Laurel said, putting her hand on Daria’s shoulder. The two locked eyes.

“Be careful, okay?”

Daria smiled, nodded, and disappeared back into the café.

“You have a lovely home,” Owen said as he walked through the hall. The twins turned into the kitchen and placed their bags on the dining table.

“Thank you,” Katie murmured.

It was only now that Katie realized one of them had brought a huge suitcase into the house. “What’s that for?”

“Lots of tools to carry around,” said Owen. “I’ve always wanted to live in Maple Mews, seems real quiet out here.”

“It is, yeah,” said Katie. “Well, uh, the boiler’s in a closet on the other side of the house, so…”

“Good to know,” Ben smiled. “You live alone, then?”

Katie shook her head. “No, my sister lives here. She’s out running an errand right now.” Something about the twins made her feel uncomfortable. She pulled out her phone and sent off a quick text to Laurel: “Two mechanics here to fix the boiler.”

“Yeah,” Ben said. “I’m sure Laurel stays busy.”

Katie froze. She looked up slowly from her phone. “How do you know my sister’s name?”

Ben looked over nervously at Owen. “Uh, well, one of your neighbors mentioned her—”

“Are you—are you two really mechanics?” Katie took a step back.

Owen shook his head. “Boris, you’re a fucking idiot.”

“Boris?” Katie whispered. “I thought his name was Ben?”

The twins eyed each other and laughed nervously. “Clearly we haven’t had enough coffee this morning,” said Owen. He reached for his bag.

Katie took another step back. “I want you two out of my house. Now.”

“We really need to take a look at that boiler of yours,” Owen said, unzipping his bag. “Where did you say it was again?”

“I’ll call my own mechanics. You two need to leave.”

Ben started unzipping his bag as well. Katie tried to remain calm. “If you two don’t leave right now, I’m calling the cops!”

What came next was a blur. Owen pulled out a black object from his bag. It looked like a gun. Katie screamed. He fired at her. Katie heard a loud pfft as something small and red flew past her. She turned her head around to see what looked like a dart lodged in the wall behind her. She ducked and ran back out of the kitchen.

She heard their footsteps behind her as she ran down the hallway. Who the fuck are these guys? She heard several more pffts as darts flew past her. She pulled out her phone as she ran. She had Laurel on speed dial. I need to warn her. She pressed a button and heard the phone start to ring.

She then tried to turn a sharp corner, but the thin rug under her feet slid with her and she ended up slipping and crashing into the wall. Pain burst through her left shoulder, but the adrenaline pumping through her veins kept her going. She tried to quickly stand up when she felt another sharp pain in the middle of her back. Then another one in the back of her right thigh.

She collapsed to the ground as her phone continued to ring. She attempted to crawl away, but her limbs struggled to obey her commands. She felt very groggy all of a sudden. She did her best to make her way down the hall, but her movements were sluggish and sporadic. “Whaaaz happening to me?”

Then she heard her sister’s voice. “Hi! You’ve reached Laurel Lane. I’m sorry I missed your call. Leave me a brief message and your phone number and I’ll call you back as soon as I’m able.”

Katie was no longer moving. She turned her head towards her phone just in time to see one of the twins reach down and end the call. “We don’t need to bother your sister with this,” he said.

His voice sounded very far away to Katie. She had forgotten why she was trying to run away. He sounded very nice. And she was so sleepy. She hoped he wouldn’t mind if she took a quick nap. The man crouched down. Then Katie saw the gun again. Then she remembered. She tried to crawl away on her stomach, but she couldn’t move at all anymore. This was the most tired she’d ever been in her life. But she had to keep her eyes open. She couldn’t… let.. this.. guy…

Oleg watched as Katie’s green eyes rolled up into her head. Her mouth was slightly open, and a thin line of drool rolled down her chin. “She’s out,” he said. He reached out and pulled the dart from her back.

“Thank god,” said Boris. He kneeled down and pulled the other dart out of her thigh. “I can’t believe she caught on to us so fast.”

“I can’t believe I have a moron for a twin brother,” said Oleg. “Give her the long-lasting sedative then let’s get her packed up.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Boris smiled as he reached down and grabbed the hem of Katie’s sweater dress. He slowly lifted it up, revealing her cute little ass. She was wearing cheeky purple panties with white polka dots. Once her dress was pulled up above her waist, Boris reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out an alcohol pad. He rubbed a small section in the middle of Katie’s right butt cheek before he produced a syringe.

He tapped it twice, smiled, and jabbed it into Katie’s ass. His thumb pressed down slowly on the plunger, gently introducing the sleepy payload into Katie’s bloodstream. When he was done, he pulled it out and gave Katie a gentle pat on the rear.

“We’ve got the next Dr. Popov over here,” Oleg groaned. “Go grab the suitcase.”

While Boris jumped up and disappeared around the corner, Oleg reached out gently and pulled one of Katie’s eyelids up. Her green iris stared up into nothingness. Her pupil didn’t react at all. She’s totally out, he thought, before looking down at her cute panties.

Boris returned, rounding the corner with the big suitcase. He dropped it onto the ground and began to unzip it. It was empty on the inside. Boris looked up. “Shall we?”

“I’ll grab her arms,” Oleg said as he squatted by her head. Boris eagerly grabbed her by her thighs. At the count of three, the twins lifted Katie up. Boris got a great view of her ass before they gently dropped her into the suitcase. They placed her into the fetal position before zipping it back up.

“Okay, let’s clean this place up quickly. Then we gotta go.”

“Where to?” Boris asked as he stood up.

Oleg smiled, “Let’s just say we’ve got a bit of a drive.”

Daria clocked out around 3pm. As she walked back to her apartment, she took Laurel Lane’s card out of her pocket and ran her fingers over it. For the first time in a long time, she felt hopeful.

Daria had moved into her own apartment at the end of last semester. She had hoped the change in scenery might help her with her memory issues. Plus, it was walkable to Bean and Vine.

With Laurel Lane’s card in her right hand, she used her left hand to feel the back of her neck. She rubbed the thin scar and thought back to the photo of her on the beach.

She rounded the corner and walked up the steps to her apartment. Two men in coveralls stood outside the door. They turned to face her as she climbed the stairs. Daria’s first thought was that they looked remarkably similar.

“Hi,” one of the men smiled. “We’re here to check the radiators. Mind if we come in?”