The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I step out into the heat, and I feel the heavy wad of cash in my coat pocket. You’d think having a grand on you would feel great. A thousand bucks was a lifeline that could save your’s truly from drowning. But this lifeline feels more like an anchor, a weight plunging me deep..

Tony P was all smiles.

“You told her yes, right?”

I nod my head.

Otto mutters something in Swedish, his disappointment obvious. I guess Norma doesn’t make empty threats.

Passanno moves closer, still smiling. “Yeah, Norma can be real persuasive.” He leans in, and all his friendliness is gone. “Just remember, she’s my girl. She may not know it yet....but she belongs to me. Got it?”

I’m about to tell him his aftershave stinks when fate rescues me from my mouth.

Pedro, Norma’s driver, comes out of the mansion. Passanno is all smiles again as he puts his arm around my shoulders.

“Hey, Pedro......tell Norma I’ll give Johnny a ride home....We’re headed that way anyway.” As he’s yapping, he’s pushing me towards the back of the Caddy. I can feel the outlines of a pistol through his sports coat.

I get in, and find myself sitting next to the shrink. The Swede opens the door for Tony P, then makes his way to the driver side. When he gets in, the Caddy sinks an inch, like an elephant just sat on the hood.

“I wonder what you spend on car suspensions.” I quip.

This gets a big laugh from the mobster, and even Doc gives a curt smirk. But Otto just glares at me in the mirror, the back of his bullet head beet red.

After we pull onto the highway, Tony P breaks the silence.

“That Pedro is a character. Norma says he used to work directly for Batista in Havana.” He pauses, but I don’t answer. He continues:

“Go ahead, Doc.....give Johnny the skinny.”

“Ya....Yes.....well, Mr. Dupuis......while we all agree saving Patricia Breckinridge is important...there’s more to be done.... in addition to Patricia.....there are certain documents we need you to retrieve.”

I shake my head. “This job just gets better and better, First I’m a kidnapper...now you want me to be a burglar and thief. What does Norma say about this....it’s going to make getting Patty out safe a lot harder.”

Passano answers for him.

“We’ll just keep it to ourselves. Norma’s got enough on her mind right now.”

Like I said, Tony P don’t do nothing unless he has an angle. I keep my focus on the shrink.

“Doc....you said documents. What kind of documents”

“Two, distinct, sets. One is a kind of ledger, kept in a brown accordion folder. You know the kind divided by alphabet. In it will be the names of many women, their phone numbers and addresses....and, I would think, other writings, on each page. The other will be an old, handwritten manuscript, entitled “Peripheral Neurological Induction and Reinforcement Conditioning of the Female Psyche.“

I look at him blankly.

The shrink sighs. “I will write it down for you, Mr. Dupuis.”

Tony chimes in. “Don’t you worry about what’s in them papers, Johnny. Just get them to us. You do, I’ll match whatever Norma is paying you. You don’t....well..then you get a date with the Mountain here. “

I turn to the doctor.

“I guess the well being of your patient to be ain’t so important, huh, Professor?”

He turns red.

“Of course, I care about Miss Breckinridge. But the contents of these papers could affect the well being of hundreds of young women just like her. Besides, these documents could be of immeasurable assistance in undoing what Dorvak has done to Patricia.” He takes out a businesscard, and writes the manuscript title on the back then offers it to me. “I know more than most about hypnotic phenomenon. If you need my technical assistance, call this number. It’s to my service, they can reach me at any hour.”

I look up and see Otto’s glare in the mirror. I know I’m stuck. I take the card feeling like I’ve signed another contract with Mr. Scratch.

Tony P laughs. “Ain’t that grand......we’re all bossom buddies now. Right, Otto?”

The Swedish Mountain just mutters and drives.

They let me out in front of my old building I find that bastard Kranski, and peel off a hundred. The extra is so he gets the phone and power back on. Next, I spend a few bucks on clothes, shoes and toiletries. Then I get a nice shave and haircut, If I’m working, I gotta look a little respectable.

For a Bronx Minute, I’m content. It’s like the old days, when I was an up and comer...not a has been ex-con. Then, I remember the price of my new found prosperity. I realize I’m like the native that gets a feast and a bath right before they throw him in the volcano.

So I go to “Jack’s Tavern”, pay off my tab, and have a couple of belts. I gotta shake the blues.

I stop by the diner.

“Angie...you’re right. I do need to go out and show the World I’m back. I’ll come by around 8 and pick you up....you know...for business purposes.”

She stares at my new suit.

“Where are we going....I gotta pick out an outfit.”

I tried to remember the word Norma used.

“Wear something with a Greenwich Village vibe......you know......bohemian.”

I try my best to hide the guilt at the very thought of Mrs. Norma Breckinridge.

I pick her up, and man, she looks scrumptious. She’s in a short, slinky black number with shoulder straps. On her legs are matching tights and ballet flats. She tops it all off with a black beret and a matching clutch. She’s a beatnik’s dream date.

I’m sure you’ve picked up....Angie is a smart cookie. She’s figured out that while this is a “business date”, it’s about more than just being seen. I’m working a case.

I tell her about Patricia, leaving out Tony P, the Swede, and all the hypnosis hoodoo. And I’m not too accurate in describing the client stepmom. Believe you me, better she sees Norma as some fat, grey haired dowager.

Now, most dames would end the night then and there. Not my Angie. She always loved helping me on cases...I always thought she’d make a decent gumshoe herself. So she’s fully onboard as we approach the old Veterans of Foreign Wars Hall.

I know the place real well...after all, I’m a veteran of both a foreign war and a foreign police action. I’d spent many an hour here, drinking too much, playing stud poker, and watching the occasional nudie movie from Scandinavia with the boys. Of course, that’s all before it became “Cafe Somnambula”.

There’s a long line, the place is as hopping as advertised. We get in line. I notice that a car is directed behind the club.

I tell Angie to hold our place while I do a little reconnoiter. I look around the corner and see there’s a rear entrance guarded by two burly apes I recognize as off duty SPD cops. I remember Passano’s line that Dorvak had connections. A short, fat man gets out of the back. I’m pretty sure he’s a municipal judge from L.A.

I make my way back to Angie in the line. There’s a bouncer taking a door charge, but before I can pay, we’re joined by the redheaded Space Girl from the diner. She speaks in the same flat tone.

“He says they’re guests...no charge.” Again, the Royal “He”.

Angie speaks for us. ”Gee, thanks, Dori.” The Space Girl looks at her, then goes back into the club.

The place is dark and full of patrons. I notice that the ladies outnumber the guys. We get seated at a small table and our waitress, another barefoot Space Girl, tells us our drinks are on the house. I give Angie a look and she shrugs.

“I guess they like my danish.”

I take a few seconds and scope the joint. Many of the features from the old VFW hall are intact. The long bar in the back, the stage, and the Men’s Room are all just as they were. I also see the doorway near the stage that Patty was taken through during the intermission. The bad news is another off duty cop is standing guard.

The entertainment soon starts. It begins with a negro jazz quartet.....they’re real good. The rest...not so much. One palooka sits on a stool and reads poetry. It don’t rhyme and I don’t get it. Next a young stand up does the bluest comic set I’ve ever heard. The audience doesn’t clap, but snap their fingers instead.

After another number from the quartet, the main act begins.

Dori takes the mike and says: “ Ladies and Gentlemen, Cafe Somnambula is proud to present your host, Kenny Dorvak and the Mysteries of the Mind.”

The door near the stage opens up, and a scrawny young man with shaggy hair, a goatee, and weird square shades comes out. He’s wearing a striped tee shirt and a black vest, trousers and sandals. He bounds up onto the stage and grabs the mike. I notice him looking over at Angie, twice.

The ladies go crazy. It’s like that Presley kid was in the house.

Angie’s not as impressed. She leans in and says “Ain’t he the Allen Ginsberg wanna-bee.”

I laugh, but to be honest, I don’t know who the hell Allen Ginsberg is.

Dorvak surveys the room as the applause finally quiets.

“Look at all the cool cats and groovy kittens.”

As unimpressive as he is physically, he knows how to work a crowd.

“Now....I know some of you like to get it out of a bottle.

Some of you might partake of a lady named Mary Jane...I’m looking at you Maurice! I know what you boys do between sets!

Some of you pop pills, maybe even ride a needle.

The thing is, the best drug is already in your brain.

And if three groovy kittens join me on stage.....I’ll show you what I’m preaching.”

I look around, there’s a real buzz in the room. All around me, I see gals removing their shoes, some stand up so they can be seen. Some are actually waving at him.

Angie leans close. “I think he’s doing a hypnotist act. I always wanted to try it.”

I meet her eyes, all business.

“You don’t want this creep to be your introduction, doll.”

Her eyes get all big. “You think Dorvak got the Breckinridge girl by hypnotizing her.”

I told you she’s smart. I nod my head. I tell her about how Patty’s oddball behavior started with volunteering in the show.

She leans in, and begins to whisper, all excited.

“This is perfect....I’ll go up and pretend to go under...and see what happens backstage.”

I ponder this but quickly decide against it. I’m not going to put Angie that far into harm’s way. I might keep my feet on the vibrating rail, but her pretty size fives don’t need to join mine.

“No way, Honey.” I remember Norma saying he almost put her under. “I hear tell he’s hard to resist. I got other things for you to do, and I need you sharp.”

Angie’s disappointed, and now Dorvak pipes in:

“Hey....whoa now fillies.......how about a few fresh faces. Why, over here..we have the owner of the best diner in Seaside....Miss Angelina Nicodemus....why don’t you join us?“. The crowd snaps their fingers egging her on. She glares at me, and I glare back. There’s a moment of suspense, but Angie finally says: “Not tonight Kenny......rain check, maybe?”

I detect a flash of anger in his eyes. I can tell he’s not used to hearing “no” from pretty girls. But it flashes off real quick.

“”Shucks...I almost had her in my power....I guess I gotta keep paying for my danish.” This gets a good laugh.

He begins. At first, I don’t get it. It’s all blather about being on the beach, you know, feeling the sun and the warm sand between your toes. I get bored. He’s changed his voice....it’s a lot lower now. To me, it ain’t soothing like I expected. Instead, I find it grating. I look around and I see the few gents in the place agree....they’re all squirming in their seats. Then, I notice he has the opposite effect on the ladies. They’re all raptly following his every word like he’s Olivier doing Hamlet. I lean over to say something to Angie, but she pushes me back.

“I want to hear this.” Her voice is both annoyed and distant.

The three gals on stage are out of it. They stand unassisted, but each has her head bowed.

I resume my survey. I have to figure out how to get into the rest of the building. Then my eyes fall on the Men’s john again. I remember the VFW only had one men’s’ room on the first floor, and it had two doors, one for the main hall where I’m currently sitting, and one for the guys in the back of the building. My gaze slowly tracks back to the stage, and I notice many of the dames in the joint had their heads bowed, their chins nestled in their chests. I remember Norma saying you didn’t have to be onstage to get the whammy.

I turned to Angie, and sure enough, her head is bowed. I lean over and whisper: “ Cut it out, Angie. I ain’t using you as bait. Now, stop the act.”

No reaction.

I chance getting slapped, and pinch her thigh through her black tights.

Nothing. She’s a natural actress, and stubborn as a mule.

I hiss: “Fun’s fun, Ange, but cut it out.”

I noticed Dorvak looming over us from the stage. I want to slap the smile off his mug.

“Hey Daddy-O....be cool....I’ll wake her up.”

He comes down off the stage, and whispers in Angie’s ear. Her head raises up, but her eyes stay closed. As he whispers, her lips form a little smile. I get nervous.....I mean I know she’s faking but......

“Hey, Pal......enough’s enough. Get your own date.” The other customers in earshot laugh.

Svengali glares at me, then smiles again. He pulls away, and dramatically snaps his bony fingers. Angie’s eyes open, then she looks confused.

“What the hell just happened?” She asks.

“I was going to ask you the same thing, Babe. You almost fooled me.”

“Yeah.....right.” There’s something in her voice, but time is short.

I look around, and Dorvak is going from table to table waking up the girls at each. Mostly, he just snaps his fingers and all the dames at that table wake up. But a few, mostly the most beautiful, get the same whispering treatment like Angie.

The show goes on with the three stage patsies following his commands. I know the intermission is coming soon. I decide I needed to make a move. I tell Angie I’ll be back,.

I get up to go to the head. I avoid looking at the guard as he looks familiar to me. Once in, I’m rewarded, the door is still there on the far side of the commode. But, of course, it’s locked. I wait until the other occupants finish their business, then I take out my lock pick set. I open a stall door to give me some cover.

It takes a while, I’m a little rusty at breaking and entering. The appearance of a lug with too much beer in his bladder also slows me down. Luckily, he’s drunk and doesn’t seem to notice me behind the stall door. He finally leaves. Eventually, the lock gives.

I crack the door open and take a peek. I see the same long hall ending in a steep staircase, to the right. On the closer end is the door to the main hall. In the VFW days, this floor was devoted to meeting rooms, a kitchen, and storerooms. It’s clear so I creep in, closing the restroom door.

Two of the old meeting rooms are now marked “Initiation” and “Contemplation”, respectively. In the hall next to the first is a costume rack on wheels. I pull on a hanger, and see a polka dot halter and blue jean shorts. I realize I’m looking at the “Daisy Maye” outfit for the second half of the hypnotism show.

I try both doors, but they’re locked. I know the intermission is about to start, and I need to get out of this corridor, so I don’t try and pick the locks. I make my way down the hallway. As I do, I pass the old storeroom. It now has a steel door. I try it, it’s locked. I notice the metal is real cold. Why does Dorvak need with a meat locker?

I make it to the stairwell when the the door to the club opens. I hear clapping and finger snapping, then the jazz combo. I chance a peek around the corner. Dorvak’s there, along with the three volunteer broads. They’re standing in front of the “Initiation” door. He’s speaking to the girls, But I can’t hear what he’s saying. Then all of the sudden, he looks in my direction, and yells:

“Dori, get down here!”

My heart freezes when I hear a feminine voice at the top of the stairs:

“Coming, Master.”

It’s the red head Space Girl. She carrying a brown file folder.....it must be the ledger. Her bare feet must have made her approach too quiet for me to hear. She starts down the stairs. I try to come up with an excuse for my presence, but it ain’t necessary. She comes down the stairs and quietly says “Excuse me” as she brushes past. I watch as she goes down the hall, takes out a set of keys and unlocks the Initiation Door. She then hands the file folder to Dorvak. He kisses her, then she heads back towards me. Going up the stairs, she’s now smiling and her face is flushed. Again, she says “Excuse” me as she passes.

I realize she must be in a trance. She knows I’m here, but doesn’t care. I take the chance and follow her.

When this was the VFW, this floor had guest rooms for out of town guests or vets just needing a bed. I finished a few nights of hard drinking in them. The chapter president had his office up here. I know I can’t stay too long and I figure I should check out the office first.

The red headed sleepwalker heads that way. I follow her in, but when I get there, the office is empty. I look around and see the door to the coat closet is ajar. I creep over and see it now opens to a long, narrow and dark corridor. I see Space Girl One heading into the darkness. I follow.

Soon, I’m standing on the dark side of a two way mirror, looking into a guest room. It’s currently empty. It’s now decorated like a high class whorehouse boudoir. Red, plush carpeting and a giant post bed. I notice silk kerchiefs tied to all four posts.

I’m beginning to understand how Dorvak has gotten so much pull so fast.

I make my way to the next rectangle of light. This guest room is mostly the same, with a big exception. It’s occupied. A pretty Chinese gal is on the bed, flat on her back. She wears a sheer green teddy. She’s so motionless, I assume she’s asleep until I see her eyes are open, staring at the ceiling.

I move on. I pass a couple more rooms. Then, I see the fifth is also occupied. A strawberry blonde in just black lace panties and bra is on that bed. This gal is sitting up, her back against the back board. The soles of her bare feet face me. She’s looking intently at a photograph. I’m no lip reader, but it looks like she’s saying “I love you” over and over.

I look down the corridor and see the back of Dori, Space Gal One, as she makes her way. I catch up. Space Girl Two, the blonde, is standing by a running movie camera on a tripod. Dori taps her shoulder, then quietly says:

“Barefoot Nancy must listen.”

The blonde slowly turns to her.

The red head continues: “Mr. Sandman....bring me a dream.”

Blondie responds: “Make him the cutest that I ever seen.”

Red head: “Take tonight’s Assemblyman Tate film to the vault, then aid Master with the special project.

Film....vault....now I know the purpose of the refrigerated room. I wonder how many luminaries have made their movie debut at Cafe Somnambula.

Blonde Space Girl, who now I know is “Nancy”, nods, bends down and pick us up a film canister, and heads back to the office. Dori is bent over checking the camera focus. I look at what she’s filming.

Yeah...it’s His Honor, in his skivies, being ravished by a light skinned negro girl. I let out a whistle. Dori slowly looks away from the camera and at me, and puts her finger to her lips.

“Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.” She then returns to filming.

I go back to the office, after checking it’s clear, I re-enter. I see behind the desk sits a small black safe. One look at the combo lock and I know it’s more than I can handle. There’s a bookcase filled with textbooks on hypnotism and brainwashing. On one shelf sits a poetry collection, a book of popular song lyrics, and a Greater L.A. Phone Book. Next to that, believe it or not, sits an Armand Dupuis Mystery paperback. It’s not one I’ve read.

Suddenly, I hear footsteps. I rush back to the hidden corridor, but keep the door cracked.

Dorvak enters the office, smiling like he got an extra Birthday present. He’s carrying the accordion folder. He sits.

You know me, I’m a fast actor. I quickly come up with a plan. I’ll rush him, put my gun to his noggin, and get him to turn over the papers. Then, I’ll have him take me to Patricia.

Great plan, except I hear a heavy creak on the floor. I realize that someone is standing just outside the office, someone big.

Dorvak starts yapping.

“I guess I’m in your debt, Big Man. What do I owe you for this?”

“Don’t want money. Just make sure you get son of bitch Dupuis.”

Like I said, the Swede hates my guts. Enough to go behind Tony P’s back and ruin my plan for a quick smash and grab.

Otto continues. His voice almost sounds sheepish.

“ Maybe give me date with girl. “

Dorvak laughs. “Sure, sure. Just hold on, I gotta make a call.”

He leafs through the folder, and pulls out a page. He reads it, then dials a number. After a moment, he says:

“Barefoot Tilda must listen. ‘Hi Ho, Hi Ho....it’s off to work we go.’”

I can barely hear a feminine voice, but I can guess what she says back.

“Tell me, Tilda, are you alone? Good. Tomorrow you are having lunch with Miss Haverson at “La Mere”........that’s right. She will introduce you to a Mark Johansson. He will be the most handsome fella you ever saw. You will find him so charming...it’ll be love on first sight. You’ll yearn to spend time with him. Now, do you understand my commands?…Groovy. Now, after you hang up the phone, you’ll fall into a deep, natural sleep. When you awake, you won’t remember this call. Hang up now, Tilda.”

He hangs up and puts Tilda’s sheet back in the folder. Then he opens the safe and puts the Ledger inside it. After sealing it, he stands and says:

“Tell me Big Guy.......you like Chinese?” They leave.

I’ve pushed my luck, and know it’s time to get the hell out of here. I’m going to make a return visit. I get a get an idea. I remember there’s a fire escape outside the office window. I look, it’s still there. I disable the lock, but make it look like it’s still secured. So long nobody tries the lock, it should work. Next time, I can bypass the club downstairs.

I gotta go. I wait until the Swede is settled in with his “date”. I watch Dorvak head down the stairs. I count to ten, and go down. I’m just in time to see the door to the Hall close. I check the doors to “Initiation” and “Contemplation” and they’re both still locked tight. I try picking the lock to the first, but no joy. I give up, for now.

I know Patricia Breckinridge is probably behind one of these doors, but I need to get Angie out of this nuthouse.

She’s not at the table. I’m worried , but then see her crossing the room. Dorvak is on stage, and the three volunteers in their costumes are all over him. The crowd’s eating it all up. I catch him shooting glances at me. Angie sits, and I lean over.

“Where the hell have you been?”

“I had to powder my nose, if it’s any of your business.”

I’m relieved. She sounds like she’s fully recovered from her close call, her trance.

Dorvak’s definitely watching us.

“Grab your clutch. We’re leaving.”

Angie looks surprised. “Johnny....the shows not over.”

“It is for us, let’s go.”

I’m relieved.....no one tries and stops us. By the time we’re back on the boardwalk, I’m satisfied we’re not being tailed.

Angie picks up on my tension.

“Did you see the Breckinridge girl?”

I shake my head.

“So we go back tomorrow night?”

I grab her by her arms.

“There’s no more we.....you’re done with this case. Babe.......you gotta swear to me....you’re going stay away from that joint.”

“But........”

“Angie......swear to me....you’ll stay away from that freak show.”

I can tell she wants to argue, but she relents.

“OK....I’ll stay away.”

“Good.”

We walk in uncomfortable silence.

I try a peace offering.

“Look, Babe, it ain’t been much of a night out. We can still get to the Tavern before last call....”

She’s not having it.

“Nah....I’m tired. I just want to get out these tights and drink some warm milk.”

Then, to show me she’s not sore, she gives me a nice kiss on the cheek.

I walk her home. I don’t see her up because she lives with Arty. I head to my office and the bottle I keep there. I have a lot to mull over, but more than anything, I’m mad at myself for getting Angie involved.

At least she’s safe now.

That’s what I think, anyway.