The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

She wanted a drink. She stopped herself from pouring it. She didn’t eat the cookie she wanted. Was it too much to treat herself? What if she got Owen’s body fat? What if she damaged Owen’s liver?

Elizabeth ground her teeth. Then she realized what she was doing and stopped.

“You OK?” Carlos stopped her by the rear exit of the restaurant.

“I just want to go home and get a shower,” she said, as she tied up her hair. Ponytails kept the strands out of her eyes but they did little to augment her tips. That was all she had anymore, right? Her thoughts, her heart, and her money? She wasn’t certain about the money.

“You and Brett are through?” he asked.

“You heard that?” she laughed pitiably. “Of course you did.”

“So I ask again: You OK?”

“Let me get that shower.” She shook her head.

“Do you have a place to stay?”

“I’m… I’m sharing a bed with Darlene tonight,” she estimated. Carlos raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t know you were those kinds of friends,” he frowned.

“I’m not a lesbian,” Elizabeth said.

“Oh, sorry. I wasn’t saying that. I just thought you two were only ‘work friends’. Like you and Davy,” Carlos said.

“And we’re different?” Elizabeth said.

“Ouch,” Carlos shook his head. “Get home safe.”

“I will.” Elizabeth stormed out of the rear of the restaurant. Dammit! She stopped in the parking lot. She called a cab. It was probably safe to walk home, but it wasn’t her body to risk anymore.

Kirk’s hands shook. The paperwork. The photographs. The chain of custody. These were the coins. These were real. He hadn’t been part of something this historic, this lucrative in his entire life. He looked at his phone. They had left ninety minutes ago. His daughter was still flirting with the boy, eating down in the food court. Where was Giselle? She was supposed to contact Monsieur le Carre. Kirk looked at his phone one more time. Should he wait?

“Daddy!” Frieda squealed as she answered her phone on the fourth ring.

“Interrupting, am I?” he teased.

“No!” Frieda shrieked. “I mean, we’re almost heading b—heading up. Upstairs.”

“What? Are you OK?” he frowned. “Where’d you eat? Did you take him to that Thai place you like?”

“Eat?” Freida gasped. “Oh, um. No. We just, uh, grabbed McDonald’s.”

“And you lost track of time,” Kirk said. Frieda was always a bit crazy with boys. He tried to file today away with all of her other freakouts but it didn’t go easy. “Tell him to come up and get the good news.”

“Good news?” Frieda questioned.

“The coins are the ones we were looking for,” Kirk explained.

“Right! He knew that! I mean, I’ll tell him. Bye, Dad.”

She had said ‘Bye, Dad.’ before she had hung up in his ear this time. Things were getting better.

He thought of Maxim le Carre again. He thought better of it. He dialed Giselle.

“Salut, vous avez téléphoner Giselle auBert. Je suis la secrétaire du Maxim le Carre.”

“Giselle, hi. It’s Kirk.”

“He called you too!” He tilted his head at his daughter’s voice. It melted the worry and conspiracy that had built up thanks to his daughter’s spastic exuberance.

“Oh, you’re with Frieda and Owen.”

“Yes, I have been making myself available to him.”

“Excellent, because I believe he is about to make your employer a very happy man.”

“Oh, I know Monsieur le Carre will manage to find a few faults to quibble over.”

“Yes,” Kirk nodded. “Nothing is ever as easy as it could be.”

“I think Owen will disagree with that,” Giselle said. “We will be by in a moment. We just need to return from my hotel room.”

“Um…” He refused to ask why his daughter had travelled to a hotel with them. He took long deep breaths. This was a millions of dollars deal and it wasn’t as if Frieda’s crush would inhibit the transaction. Kirk rolled his shoulders back. He would talk to her, to know if he had to talk to him.

Zera sat in the Sexton Campus library going over her biochemistry work. Her mechanical pencils were chewed up. Her notes were bracketed with doodles. She normally drew faces or animals. Today it was mostly pornographical cartoons.

“Hey.” Wendy dropped into the chair across from Zera.

“Hey,” Zera muttered. She looked up. Rivalry still clung to her mind but the fight Owen had cultivated before he had bought her with Judas’s silver had receded.

Wendy was a good looking Chinese girl. She dressed nicely, primly, boringly. She was wearing a thin winter jacket over a silk top. She brushed her straight black hair behind her singly pierced ears. She wore little makeup. Her eyes were red and puffy.

“You look like shit,” Zera said.

“Oh...” Wendy blushed and dug a mirror out of her bag. She sighed.

Zera had turned back to her books and notes. She scratched the point of her pencil in the platinum half of her dyed hair. Wendy watched her hopefully. Zera was idly drawing a girl getting plowed doggystyle while she memorized amino acids.

“All my girlfriends were friends of my… of my ex’s or went to different universities after high school,” Wendy spoke, after a couple of attempts to get up and leave.

“Uh huh,” Zera droned.

“I, uh, you’re the person I know best without calling my mom,” Wendy said. “Besides boys.”

“Uh huh,” Zera closed her eyes. Leucine, phenylalanine, aspartic acid, asparagine—

“Could we talk? I’ll buy you a coffee or a—”

“Goddammit!” Zera said. She looked up. Wendy was shocked and several others in the library were going back to ignoring them.

“I’ll go.” Wendy rubbed her eyes again.

“Sit,” Zera leaned back in her chair. “You dumped your boyfriend?”

“Yeah, we’ve been together since we were 18.” Wendy frowned. “He didn’t understand. I don’t understand. Maybe we shouldn’t go for coffee. He was still there when I left.”

“My boyfriend’s place is close,” Zera said. “Come with me.”

“I thought you were dating that, um, that big girl.”

“Traded them for dick,” Zera packed her books into her backpack. “Just like you traded your boyfriend for mine.”

“What?” Wendy shook her head. “What?”

“You’ll understand or Owen was wrong,” Zera shrugged. She slipped into her jacket and pulled her backpack onto her shoulders. “Now, let’s go.”

Tamara knew Jewel and her twin sluts were staying at the hotel across from Scotia Square. She hadn’t been close enough to follow them up from the lobby to mark their room. What was she to do now? She felt tight in the chest and pulled her hands into fists.

“Salut, vous avez téléphoner Giselle auBert. Je suis la secrétaire du Maxim le Carre.” Tamara turned her head to see Owen coming down the stairs with a cute brunette teen and a glamorous French lady.

“He called you too!” The teenager looked scandalized. She was the chick from the hospital. Tamara could only recall “Friends” written on Owen’s old cast. She shook her head and raced over.

“Owen!” Tamara said quietly as she raced into a hug. The French lady raised a finger to buy a moment and stepped away from them.

“Hi,” ‘Friends’ said to Tamara.

“I forgot your name,” Tamara declared.

“Oh, sorry, I’m Frieda. We met last night.”

“And you fucked a few minutes ago,” Tamara sniffed Owen. “You smell like her more than she does.”

“They got showers.” Owen gestured from Frieda to the French lady across the lobby. “Giselle, if you’re wondering.”

“Her name?” Tamara asked and Owen nodded. “Oh! I followed the—”

“I need you to take the rage down from 11, Tamara,” he said.

“They’re upstairs. I know which car is theirs but I don’t know which room is hers,” Tamara had quieted back to a conversational volume.

“And yeah, you definitely pegged her as your enemy.”

“Her betrayer?” Frieda asked.

“Yes,” Owen nodded.

“That’s a good word for it,” Tamara agreed.

“Owen, this one’s father has confirmed the authenticity of the coins,” Giselle sashayed over. “I should contact my employer.”

“Right,” Owen said. “I’ve got your number. I’ll send you tonight’s plans in a few.”

“Oh,” Tamara said. “Is it possible to put Jewel into those plans?”

“What did you have in mind?” Owen asked.

“Waterboarding,” Tamara sneered.

“Let’s call that Plan W,” Owen said. “Frieda, you go cover for your father… Wait, shit. I better go get my coins back and safe.”

“I’ll stake out her car,” Tamara declared. “Your next bitch won’t get by you.”

“I don’t really want bitches,” Owen said.

“So you don’t need my betrayer?” Frieda hoped. “Because I don’t want to do what I did with Giselle when Val’s around.”

“She gets caught, maybe it ruins her chance of becoming your step-mom,” Owen smiled.

“We’re going to need a good camera!” Frieda cheered and bolted.

Owen frowned. He leaned in and kissed Tamara. “If we miss her, we miss her.”

“No, she’s getting what’s coming to her,” Tamara declared. “We’re not going to miss.”

Janice clocked out. She turned from the register and found Roxxi waiting centimeters from her.

“How’d I do?” The blue haired teen asked.

“What?” Janice asked. “I’m not your boss.”

“But you are going to tell him?” Roxxi asked.

“Why?” Janice wondered.

“So he’ll know I’ve been good. That I’ve been doing good.” Roxxi frowned. Her eyes were wide and shaking, like her shoulders.

“Fine!” Janice shook her head. She walked to the back of the cafe and stuck her head in the office.

“Yeah, Janny? All done?”

“I just wanted to tell you that Roxxi was good today,” she said.

“I should hope so. You vouched for her,” he said. He turned back to his spreadsheets. “See you tomorrow.”

“There, you’re all talked up,” Janice stripped off her apron as she headed back out front. “Later.”

“Later,” said the tall crooked Shaggy from Scooby-Doo looking guy who had taken over the register.

“What’d he say?” Roxxi leeched closer to Janice.

“What? Good thing you did well because I vouched for you.” Janice shook her head. She pulled her bag out from the break room and slipped it over her shoulder as she headed for the backdoor. Roxxi chased behind her.

“You vouched for me?” Roxxi asked.

“How do you think you got this job?” Janice asked.

“Something about tits-for-brains Lizzie and a magic silver dollar,” Roxxi added.

“OK, that’s how I know about you. That’s why you’re getting fucked by Owen. The job, that’s just because I don’t want you stealing my rent and internet for nothing.”

“That’s just part of the job,” Roxxi said. “I gotta put my whole body in. Think the right thoughts, feel the right feels, make the right money. Thank you though, vouching for me. I know I haven’t proven myself to Master yet.”

“Wait.” Janice stopped. “You call him Master but you think of all this as a job?”

“Well, yeah,” Roxxi said. “Maybe more like a role. Like in a movie or play or something.”

“Shit.” Janice shook her head. “Do you eat pussy? Of course you do, you went from being the pass-around toy of a bunch of lesbians to being the harem’s bitch.”

“Do you want me to eat your pussy?” Roxxi asked. “I mean, I tend to do the titty-suck finger-fuck thing better. Or at least the girls came more often that way.”

Janice sighed. “Yeah, whatever.” Her phone buzzed, “Thank God.”

“Girls you sold drugs! They say where there going tonite??” Tamara had texted. Janice scratched her head.

“You got something to go dancing in?” Janice asked Roxxi.

“I got a black vinyl dress and fishnets.”

“That’ll do,” Janice said. “Let’s get hot. We’re going out tonight.”

“Is Master going to be there?” Roxxi said.

“Fucked if I know,” Janice said. “But Tamara’s cunt’s going to be and she belongs to Owen.”

“I have handcuffs if we need them,” Roxxi volunteered.

“You know,” Janice smiled. “I am going to give Owen a good performance review for you.”

Roxxi sparkled for how bright she felt.

Brandy popped her first molly and washed it down with vodka. She was watching her unmarried twin who was fixing her tits in her cocktail dress. Barbara fluffed her two-toned hair out on her shoulders.

“You’re not wearing panties.”

“I don’t have a husband or a fiance,” Barbara replied. “I can go get fucked tonight.”

“Got anyone in mind?” Jewel came out of the washroom putting in her earrings.

“Probably a college jock,” Barbara said. “I want tall and muscles.”

“Good choice,” Jewel agreed. “Brandy, what about you?”

“I’ll stick to the happy pills,” she smiled and popped a second molly and drank its vodka chaser.

“God, I missed you girls!” Jewel pulled Brandy in for a hug. “We’ve gotten so boring since college!”

“Hey, we could’ve been having real fun if we had just gone to Montreal like we planned.” Barbara said. “I had lined things up with some real fucking guys, you know?” Barbara took a shot, pressed down her leather skirt and posed.

“And you’d get them all to yourself?” Brandy agreed.

“Oh, I would share and share alike,” Barbara stuck out her tongue. “But if you two insisted.”

“Hey, do you bitches remember that guy earlier?” Jewel turned left and right in the mirror. She felt ready, she looked hot.

“Um, no,” Brandy said. “We haven’t really talked to any guys since we left my place.”

“There was the crying guy the next table over in the cafe,” Barbara said.

“No not him. He was on the street.” Jewel asked.

“Yeah, no fucking clue who random street dude is,” Barbara said.

“Dammit.” Jewel frowned.

“If you’re looking to go crazy, Barbara and I can keep a side-fuck secret,” Brandy said.

“Yeah,” Barbara frowned. “We totally can.”

“OK, but—”

“Now come on!” Brandy interrupted Jewel. “That hippy chick gave us some great directions. I need to dance.”

“And I need to get mauled by hockey players,” Barbara cheered. “Let’s go!”

“Giselle, you have news.” Maxim le Carre answered in French. He was eager to speak with his secretary as he waited at the airport. The flight from Egypt had been delayed and he was expecting his daughter to come out of customs any minute now. Natasha had vexed him. This was the third possible flight she might have chosen. He did not expect her to waste a second in escaping the Memphis Villa. He had spent the bulk of the afternoon waiting at the airport to collect her.

“I do,” Giselle said. “Good news, Mr Marcusson and myself have independently confirmed the veracity of the coins. Bad news, there is evidence of seven coins, not twelve.

“Seven!” Maxim didn’t know if he was angrier at the diminished number or more excited at the success. “Still, I—Independently verified?”

“Yes,” Giselle answered. “The seller managed to sneak a coin into my hand. I have been purchased.”

“You are compromised,” Maxim frowned. “He owns your life.... Why is he letting you tell me this?”

“He owns my body,” Giselle claimed. “Dominance over my thoughts, allegiances, or machinations is highly limited.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Maxim declared. “If you must tell Mr Lahey what your news has made of me. I am skeptical of the information I am receiving through you.”

“And if I mustn’t?” Giselle asked.

“You provide him nothing of mine, including my reply to your message,” he declared. He hung up in her ear. The Egyptian travelers began exiting customs and meeting up with waiting family or leaving straight on the next leg of their journeys. The line of people diminished. No Natasha.

His daughter didn’t answer his phone call.

“Sir,” his security chief answered his call to Egypt immediately.

“When is my daughter’s plane leaving?”

“Sir? She left for Canada early last night.”

“Thank you,” he turned off his phone. That stupid girl!