The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Chia’s Mind Machine

Chapter Two

“Yes, Chia, it’s working perfectly,” I said into the phone when I finally tracked down the brilliant inventor. One of the problems with Chia is he literally spends fifteen hours every day at the lab or in his small office at MIT. And when he’s in either place working on a problem he completely ignores the phone ringing. I reached him my setting by alarm for four in the morning and, as in turned out, caught him just as he got to his Back Bay apartment at one in the morning east coast time.

“Of course it is,” he replied, then laughed in his high-pitched way that indicate that he was only half-joking and, I’d guess, relieved and overjoyed that his life’s work was successful.

I explained the events of the last several days, leaving out my immensely enjoyable experiences with Sandy... after all, I didn’t want him to think I was goofing off.

“Gee, that sounds great! What about money? I’d like to set up my own lab in a year or two. Geeze, the things I could accomplish if I wasn’t teaching these dense idiots that MIT admits, and..”

“Hold it, Chia. I think you’ll be pleased at how fast we can free you up. I don’t think it’ll even be one year.”

“Cool!”

“But I have to.. we have to be extremely careful how we handle the funds we raise. It wouldn’t do to have our money transfers, from our TQA clients to me, and from me to you, traceable in any way. We can’t have the IRS investigating our cash flows.”

“No, you’re right. But how...”

“I’m working on it... bare with me. In the meantime, I want you to schedule a vacation and come out to Los Angeles. Spring vacation is coming up next month. I’ll send you first class tickets, and you can spend the week out here..”

“But, that’s the time when I can really work, and...”

“And I’ll set you up with the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen, and she will have been programmed to do anything—and I mean anything—you want her do with you.”

There was the briefest pause before, “Okay, I’ll come.”

“Yes, you will. Over and over!”

More of Chia’s insane laughter followed.

* * *

Over the next week I fell into a routine at “work”. The limo picked me up every morning at my apartment and delivered me to the TQA building in Hollywood. Sandy brought me coffee and attended to my morning erection, either by sucking me off deliciously or by bending over my antique desk or dropping to the floor so I could fuck her like a dog. Thoughtful girl that she was, Sandy removed her panties before I arrived in the morning and wore sexy garters and stockings under her skirt. Her in a dark blue business suit, her hair and makeup appropriate for a business environment with lots of clients. Me in a gray pinstripe suit, the zipper down, my cock buried in her easily accessible, hairless, hot, wet pussy.

I usually spent the rest of the morning going over the files of TQA’s female clients, astonished at their beauty and how difficult it was to find a client I didn’t want to fuck. There were a several older character actresses and a few uninteresting women athletes in golf, tennis and ice skating (although I did make an exception and include Nancy Kerrigan on my list). But most of the promotional pictures showed girls ranging from the-girl-next-door cute to exotically beautiful.

The final list of fuckables totaled one hundred fifteen. I gave it to Quentin and we worked up an approach that would work without arousing suspicion. It was very rare to have Michael Quentin meet with aspiring actresses, and he would usually see the headline stars only infrequently. The other complication was the client’s TQA agent was always present, wanting the exposure to the big boss and hoping that some of Michael’s star power would run off on them, or at least make it easier to deal with their temperamental clients.

We decided that I would send out a memo to all TQA agents, in my role as VP for client relations, announcing that Michael Quentin had agreed to become more accessible and visible to our clients. “We will be in a stronger position recruiting important new clients if we can cultivate the reputation that signing with TQA results in personal attention from Michael Quentin, the most influential man in Hollywood,” said my memo. The rest of the memo outlined the logistics of the program. Each agent was encouraged to notify me of an upcoming visit from one of their clients and, if Quentin was available, I’d escort the client to his office for a brief (fifteen to twenty minute) chat. Of course, it was my intention to make Quentin available only to the clients on my fuckable list.

Within a day of the memo circulating, my office was deluged with calls from TQA agents saying that their client would be in the office on a certain day, and could I arrange for them to see the big guy. I stressed with all of them to keep this from their clients, because it would not be possible to guarantee Michael’s availability. By the end of the first day, I had eight of the women on my list scheduled for the next two weeks, the first one in just two days!

This accomplished, I scheduled a meeting with a banker who came highly recommended by Michael Quentin. After the usual twenty minutes of discussion about a made-up topic, the machine had done it’s magic and the banker was now a trusted confidant. As with all the others I controlled, one of the instructions planted in their psyche was to observe absolute secrecy about our dealings. I laid out the problem to the banker, that I expected to geta steady cash flow from certain individuals, and that I wanted the funds to be untraceable, untaxable and legitimate for my partner and myself. He made a few calls from my office and assured me that within a week he’d have everything set up, laundering the money through a bank in the Cayman Islands, then to two accounts in the states. One, for me, would be fairly straightforward, set up as an tax-free annuity from a deceased relative. The second account would be a registered scientific foundation, and out of that account would come Chia’s grant and a generous living stipend. The banker and I constituted the foundation’s board of directors. To top it off, any contributions I made to the foundation were tax deductible from my income at TQA!

* * *

Two days later, on a Friday, I left my office on the sixteenth floor and took the elevator down to the tenth floor office of one of TQA’s best agents. One of his important clients was on my list and was meeting with him. I’d called him in the morning with the happy news that Michael Quentin had the time to meet with his client. I felt very nervous as I descended in the elevator, perhaps because neither the agent or his beautiful client were under my control. Disastrous scenarios played in my mind until I reminded myself that I’d been able to make this work with very shrewd people.

“Don’t get overconfident, Frank,” I told myself. “But relax... smile... make this work.”

It turned out to be a piece of cake. The young actress was very excited that Mr. Quentin was interested in her personally. She even seemed impressed that I, a TQA vice president, thought her important enough to personally escort her to the vaulted sixteenth floor. And the agent was too busy taking credit for Quentin’s interest to be a problem.

I studied the girl while we waited for the elevator while she chatted bubbly about this and that. She was just eighteen, according to her file, and played the fifteen year old daughter of a widowed ex-football star on a prime time TV sitcom. She was quite short, perhaps a shade over five feet, and had a fresh face and effervescent personality that made her a natural to play a younger, virginal girl. My cock started to harden at the thought of fucking this lovely young girl that looked so much like jail bait, so I quickly put my imagination on hold and tuned my attention back to what she was saying. We rode up the elevator chatting like the best of friends.

Her meeting with Quentin came off without a hitch. I met her as she left his office some twenty-five minutes later, her face radiant with the glow of meeting a famous, charming and career-enhancing personality. On the ride down the elevator, I tested the commands and found her completely malleable.

“Do you have any free time this weekend, Beth? Tonight? Saturday or Sunday? I’d like to see you.”

“Oh, yes! Let me see, I can get away tonight, after 10. The weekend is a bust... I have to drive down to San Diego for a wedding.”

“Great,” I said. “Meet me as soon as you can tonight at this address.”

“Super!” she exclaimed.

The elevator opened at her agents floor. I said good-bye and was about to ride back up when a thought occurred to me.

“Oh, and Beth... one more thing. I’d like to see you... ah, walk through a role for me. It would help if you dressed, and did your hair and make-up, for the part of a much younger girl. In the thirteen to fifteen year range.”

“Sure Mr. Stevens!”

* * *

My level of anticipation of waiting for Beth was very high. I felt like a kid on Christmas eve as I paced back and forth in my apartment, waiting for 10:00 to arrive. Then I waited more, my palms sweating, until the doorbell rang at 10:15.

Adding to my normal insecurities that this incredible adventure would somehow come crashing to a halt, was the feeling that I would soon be guilty of fucking an underage girl. Knowing full well that she was eighteen and only looked fifteen didn’t seem to help.

I opened the door, half expecting to see men in dark suits and to hear, “FBI, Mr. Stevens. Can we come in?”

But standing in front of me, her blond hair in pigtails, dressed in a catholic schoolgirl outfit of a white blouse, belted plaid skirt, knee socks and leather shoes, was adorable little Beth.

I must have stared for a moment too long, and perhaps my irrational concern showed on my face, because her friendly smile and the twinkle in her lovely green eyes faded.

“Is something wrong, Mr. Stevens?” Her voice pulled me out of it. I could tell from her tone that the most important thing in her life right now was pleasing Mr. Stevens. Me.

“Get a hold of yourself,” I said to myself, and to Beth I smiled and said, “No, everything’s as perfect as it can be. Please come in, dear Beth.”

She smiled radiantly and entered the apartment, turning to face me as I closed the door. She was waiting expectantly and, to my surprise, I leaned over and kissed her on the forehead.

“Oh, Mr. Stevens!” she exclaimed, frowning. “That’s what my dad does!”

I laughed and held her hands in mine, looking down into her adorable face, and said, “We can’t have that then. How should I greet you, dear Beth. Should I shake your hand?”

She shook her head, and smiled coquettishly.

“Hmmmm,” I intoned. I smiled at her and said, “Maybe I should just rip your clothes off, throw you down on the floor and rape you?”

Beth blushed furiously at this, which had a stimulating effect on my cock. I had to hold myself back from doing just as I had suggested.

“Well,” I continued, “a hand shake is out. And so is rape. How about a nice kiss.”

I lowered my mouth to hers, bending over considerably to account for the foot difference in our height. I kissed her lips softly, once, twice and then a third time, my lips parting slightly for this firmer, lengthier kiss. She responded by kissing me back with a growing desperation, her mouth opening to allow my tongue to dart inside.

“Oh, gosh!” she said as we broke. Then she lowered her head and blurted out, “I’m not a virgin, Mr. Stevens.”

“Ah, good,” I stammered, then invited her into the kitchen for something to drink. She asked for wine and I poured her some, but instead of a wine glass I used a juice glass, thinking that would enhance the early-teen image that she projected so well. I poured myself a scotch.

“Thank you for dressing that way, Beth. You look perfect. I’d like to see you act out a role for me, something I’ve been thinking about for a possible screen play.”

“Sure, Mr. Stevens. Whatever you want.” The meaning of this last comment was unmistakable and confirmed that she the mental instructions had taken well.

Much surer of myself, I continued.

“A mother and her young daughter (that’s you) are home alone. Their house, on a farm perhaps, is miles from any neighbors, and they are a little scared. It’s nighttime, and a neighbor called to warn them that two prisoners had escaped, several hours ago, from the state penitentiary that is only five miles away. They are hard, violent men. Suddenly, both mother and daughter hear something outside, that sounds like intruders. Her heart in her throat, the mother picks up the phone to call the police. And the line is dead!”

Beth’s eyes were as wide as saucers as I paused to sip my scotch.

“With the phone line cut, the fugitives proceeded to break a window in the kitchen door, reach in and unlock the door. The mother scrambles to find something, anything, that could help her defend herself and her precious daughter from... from what? Rape, murder?”

“Beside herself, she grabs a fireplace poker and pulls her daughter behind her as two men entered the room. One of the men, big and coal black, circles to the left. The other, a tall, slender white man with a feral look about him, walks casually, almost contemptuously, to the right.”

“The white fugitive spoke, coldly and with a self-confidence that came from a violent life on the streets. “You don’t want to do that, bitch. Really you don’t. We will hide out here for the night, and we can leave y’all alive or very dead. Doesn’t much matter to me or da big nigger. We are lifers. Nothin’ matters to us. You put that matchstick down and you’ll be alive tomorrow when we leave. If I or the nigger gotta take it from you, then you’re gonna die. After you watch us do your daughter. What’s it gonna be, bitch?”

I paused again to take another sip of my scotch. Beth’s eyes were bright and her lips parted. She was breathing harder now.

“Tears running down her face, the mother falls to her knees, letting the poker drop to the floor. The black man moves over and picks it up, tossing it effortlessly onto the couch across the room. “You want the young cunt, don’t ya Zack,” said the black man, grabbing and lifting the mother off the floor. “Me I’ll take this one, and teach the bitch what she’s missed not having black meat ta fuck.” The woman sobs as the huge black man carries her off and into the back of the house.

“That brings us to your scene, Beth,” I concluded. Beth let out an audible breath, then blushed. “You’re a thirteen year-old virgin, Beth. About to be raped by a violent man. Play the scene from your heart... plead... beg... resist... succumb...”

I finished my scotch, got up, tuned and walked into the living room. Beth followed a moment later. I started immediately.

“You’re a nice little piece o meat, aren’t you,” I said, running my hand down one of her arms.

Beth shivered at the touch, sniffled and said, “What... what are you going to do to me?”

“I’ve been without pussy for six years now, cunt. I’m gonna fuck you. Then I’m gonna fuck you again. Likely I’ll want to fuck you a third time too.”

“Oh, please,” Beth cried. “Don’t... I...”

“You’re a virgin, yeh, I know. I like em’ nice and tight, squirmin’ and cryin’ like a stuck pig when I ram my meat in.”

I brought my hand up a grabbed one her pigtails and slowly brought my head down until my lips were an inch from hers, and my eyes staring into hers. I kissed her, hard, my tongue assaulting the inside of her mouth. Beth squirmed deliciously but could not break my hold.

I broke the kiss and very quickly turned her around. From behind her, I reached my hands around and grabbed the front of her blouse, ripping it violently apart and then off her. Beth cried out as my hands moved to her bra and ripped the fastener apart. She squeezed her arms to her body in an attempt to keep the bra on, but I just ignored that and ripped the skirt latch open and pulled her skirt down until it fell in a heap at her feet. Beth attempted to get away but tripped on the skirt bunched around her ankles. As she fell to the carpet I followed her, and knelt with one knee on her back while my hands were busy removing her skirt.

Beth sobbed realistically into the carpet while I pulled off her shoes and cut off her panties with a pen knife. The soft white cheeks were plumper than I would have expected. Ripe, full, perfectly formed. An amazing ass!

“Don’t you go anywhere, bitch,” I said as I got up. Beth rolled away and curled into a ball, whimpering. This girl could act! I stood and pulled by shirt over my head. Taking my time I removed my shoes and stocks and unbuttoned by jeans. Sliding them and my underwear off, I looked down past my erect cock at the whimpering girl.

“Here is, little cunt. The cock that’s gonna take your cherry.” Beth turned her head and gasped. I chuckled and dropped to my knees next to her.

“Don’t make it any harder than you have to,” I said, then ripped the bra away from her grasping hands. I grabbed her hands and held them in one of mine, over her head, and sat on her thighs to completely immobilize the girl. In a flash, I got my first look at her body. Two things struck me immediately, and had my already rock hard cock twitching in anticipation. Between her slender but well shaped thighs was a completely bare pussy. She had shaved it for me! Her breasts drew my attention as well, not quite medium sized I suppose, but they looked quite large compared to her small frame and narrow waist.

I immediately lowered by mouth to one breast, sucking as much as possible of the firm tit-flesh into my mouth. Drawing my mouth up, I sucked hard on her tit while my tongue whipped across her erect nipple. Moving to the other breast I repeated this action, drawing moans from my [willing] rape victim. Back and forth I went, tormenting the young girl. Then I replaced my mouth with my free hand, pulling and gently twisting her erect nipples while I kissed her, hard and long, raping her mouth with my lips and tongue. When I broke the kiss she gasped, trembling with desire that she was no longer able to hide.

“I’m gonna fuck you now, little slut,” I growled, wanting her to get back into the role.

“No...No, please,” she cried. As I raised myself off her thighs she twisted this way and that, but was unable to keep me from wedging myself between her legs. Using my free hand I positioned the head of my cock between her legs and rubbed in over and around her pussy. Her very wet pussy. Finally, I slipped the head up against her entrance and moved forward slightly, the bulbous head forcing its way past her lips and into her steaming wetness. Her pussy gripped tightly on the head of my cock and I repositioned myself above her.

Tired of holding her hands above her head I let them go, pushing myself up until my arms were straight and locked at the elbows on each side of the girl. Beth, bless her heart, started using her fists to beat against my arms, and to push against my chest, using very little of her strength but seeming the hellcat. In response, in one brutal lunge, I drove my cock to the hilt, drawing a cry from the girl.

“Yeh, baby,” I said, grinning wickedly, “you’re a woman now.”

Her pussy was the tightest I’d ever felt, and I had to grit my teeth to keep from cuming as I slid it back and forth in the tight but very wet sheath. Beth was twisting her head from side to side, and as I picked up the pace, pushing at just the angle to insure that my cock rubbed hard against her clit, she began moaning at the same rhythm as my thrusts. As she approached her orgasm, I picked up the pace even more, slamming my cock into this lovely thirteen year-old girl, looking down to watch my thick shaft plunge into her hairless snatch, only to reappear a second later covered with the wet evidence of her lust. I brought my eyes back to her face just in time to see her eyes widen and her lips tremble as an orgasm rocked through her, and this sent me over the edge. My cock spurted inside her, sending jet after jet of cum deep inside her, the sense of total release as intense as anything I’d ever experienced.

* * *

“Do you think I’ll get the part,” asked Beth with a twinkle in her eye.

“I can’t imagine anyone better,” I responded. We had showered and were sitting in the living room. Actually, I was sitting on the living room sofa dressed in a bath robe and Beth, dressed in a short baby-doll nightie, was sitting on my lap.

“You were very believable, Beth, right down to the lack of pubic hair. That was a real turn-on! Did you shave just for me? For tonight?”

Beth blushed and said, “Well, yes. I was, ah, hoping something like this would happen. I can’t explain it. I’ve never done anything like this before, but I knew I wanted more than anything you to make love to me.”

I didn’t offer to explain it to her, how she suddenly wanted me. Instead I said, “and did it meet your expectations?”

“Oh, God, yes, Mr. Stevens! I’ve never cum like that before, ever! I really felt like I was being raped... forced against my will. And it was such a turn-on! Totally awesome!”

I laughed at this and Beth’s lips formed into a pout, which of course I just had to kiss away. This led to a second fuck, with Beth straddling my thighs and fucking herself on my stiff rod. I played with her firm mounds through her nightie while she bounced up and down. When she came, I pulled and twisted her engorged nipples and thoroughly enjoyed watching her as the waves of her pleasure were perfectly reflected in her young face.

After Beth had finished and collapsed against me, I rose, Beth still impaled on my rock-hard cock, her legs wrapped around my waist, and carried her to the bedroom. Beth couldn’t have weighed even a hundred pounds, so I had no trouble carrying her into the bedroom and depositing her on my queen-sized bed. Alas, to do this, I had to pull her off of my cock and she whined playfully.

“It’s past my little girl’s bedtime,” I said, as I pulled down the covers and rolled her so she was face down in the middle of the bed.

“Yes... Daddy,” she replied, sighing audibly.

“So I want you to put your head on that pillow and go to sleep. OK, baby?”

“I love you, Daddy,” she whispered, yawning.

I moved onto the bed and scooted between her thighs. I lifted her hips up and her knees slid forward until she was stable, her head resting on one forearm on the pillow, her ass thrust in the air. I marveled again at the plump-but-firm, perfectly formed cheeks in my hands, and thought briefly about how tight her surely virgin ass must be. My cock jerked upwards at this thought.

“She’s not ready for that,” I said to myself, “and you’ve never fucked a girl in the ass. Wait.”

To her I whispered, “Fall asleep, little girl. Daddy’s just gonna inject you with some medicine while you fall asleep.”

“OK, Daddy,” she sighed. “I like your injections...”

I positioned my cock between and beneath her ass cheeks and slid my cock into her pussy. Hot, wet, and very tight, even after our two earlier fucks. Slowly, without a sound other than the natural wet sounds of our union, I rocked back and forth, driving my cock deeper than I had before, up against her cervix.

My hands played with her ass as I pistoned my cock into her, quietly enjoying the feeling the feeling of her tight channel, and reflecting happily on the terrific week: Sandy’s voluptuous body, willing cunt and amazing skills at cock sucking; little Beth acting the child-woman, now in front of me, taking my cock like a dog. What a miraculous turn my life had taken!

I continued fucking the girl steadily, my thoughts dancing between the past, the future possibilities with other starlets on my fuckable list, and the present young girl whos tight, wet cunt I was fucking. I allowed my fingers to lazily slide into her crack and gently spread her white cheeks, and at the sight of her pinkish brown rosette my mind came fully back into the present, and I thought once again what pleasure there must be in taking a girl that way.

“Ahhh,” I thought to myself, “pleasures postponed are always best.”

I positioned one finger directly on her anus, and slid it over and around the tight aperture as I continued to drive my cock into her cunt. Beth mewed softly as I continued to massage her anus, then pushed back toward me slightly and my finger tip entered her ass. I slowly slid it to the half way in as Beth moaned quietly.

Her eyes still closed, Beth sleepily whispered, “Are you going to inject me there, Daddy? In my bottom?”

“No, baby, not tonight. Go to sleep, little girl.”

Beth came a few moments later, quietly, burying her face in the pillow, and I a moment later, closing my eyes to savor the release as my cock jerked and pulsed and deposited a second load of cum into her womb.

* * *

Little Beth left the next morning, but not before we talked of her income and determined that she could easily afford to wire $1,000 each month to a bank account in Houston. From there it would be transferred to a bank in the Cayman Islands and then to the two accounts serving Chia and myself. Not very much money, actually, but when I had a hundred or more contributors, each sending that amount or more, it would be more than enough for our needs.

I spent Saturday with a real estate broker, searching for a house that was secluded enough that visits from my famous guests would go unnoticed, and so that any noise generated by our sex games would go unheard. The fifth house we saw was perfect for my needs, perched in the hills and surrounded on three sides by county open space. At six thousand a month, it was actually a bargain for this part of Southern California.

The young owner, an up-and-coming producer/director, had died recently, of a drug overdose, and without a will. The probate was expected to be contested by his two ex-wives, his girlfriend and parents, and take at least a year. The court-appointed executor was loathe to have such a valuable piece of property generating no income for the estate. So I signed the rental agreement and arranged to move into the fully furnished house on the following weekend.