The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

What to say about this one... I hope the dialog is smooth enough. That’s all.

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Everything Must Go

Susan was just finishing setting up when she first saw him. His car drove past, stopped, then backed up and turned onto the long country driveway.

A first sale this early would be a good sign.

She called out as he got out of the car. “Hi there.” She worked on finishing unpacking the box for display. Mom had just headed in to check to see if there was anything else she wanted in the yard sale.

“Hi.” He came over, looking at items as he walked. “So, what’s all this for?”

“Cleaning out the house, so mom and dad don’t have to pack it all to the new place. Anything you see that you like?”

“Maybe...” He pretended to leer a bit. Susan knew she had walked into that one, and smiled back, rolling her eyes for effect.

Flirting never hurt when you were bargaining, after all. Truth to tell, that was why she’d worn the ‘Daisy Duke’ outfit she had on today: The famous cut-off jean shorts, and a white blouse with thin green stripes that pulled out the color from her eyes was tied off above her midriff.

She’d half-jokingly told her parents she was going to be ‘bait’ for the sale.

He switched back to a more serious tone. “There are a few things that I could probably use. What’s with the sign?”

“They don’t want to pack any of this stuff. So, ‘Everything Must Go’: Either it sells today, or we load it up on the truck and take it to the dump. Everything outside is for sale.”

“You’re outside, how much for you?” His tone told her he knew he was returning to a tired joke, but that he wanted to see how she’d handle it.

“You couldn’t afford me.” She immediately quipped back at him.

“Good answer.” He wandered off to look at the actual items for sale.

Susan ignored him until he came back with a few light-catchers in hand. A little bargaining, and he parted with a ten-dollar bill for the lot. “So, where are you moving to?”

Her dad was out now, and he answered. “Me and Edith are moving into the city. Susan’s heading up to college tomorrow.” He looked around. “This is a nice little place, but it’s a bit to much work for just the two of us. It seemed a good time to move.”

The man agreed it probably was. “There’s some good stuff here. I’ll have to think about some of it. I’ll be back later.”

Susan didn’t think he would be, but she politely said she hoped he did.

It wasn’t a great sale, but it was a sale. And another car (their neighbors) had pulled up, so she moved on.

* * *

The next time she saw him it was lunchtime. Everyone in the area knew about the sale, and most were here now, looking over the collection of Susan’s parent’s attic.

The only reason he’d caught her eye was the because of the way he was using a tape measure on one of the old dressers. Looking over she was mildly surprised to see her first customer of the day back again.

He disappeared into the crowd, and Susan’s attention went back to the person in front of her. You’d think with all the money the Wilson’s made, Mrs. Wilson could be a little less of a penny-pincher...

A few minutes later he appeared in front of her, a lamp in hand. “Do you want the dresser as well?”

He smiled. “Nah. It won’t fit where I’d want it.” He said, with regret in his voice.

“Too bad.”

“Yeah. Well, you can’t have everything you want in life.” He shrugged. “Anyway, just this lamp and this book.” Susan hadn’t seen the book, but he brought it out in front of him and set it on her ‘desk’.

He spotted what he was setting it next to: Susan’s sandwich and juice box. “You aren’t taking a break even for lunch?”

“Nope. I’m out here with everything until we’re done.” She smiled, recalling he’d been the first to joke that she was for sale. He wasn’t the last: Most of the unattached males coming through had tried the same joke, in some variation.

Not that she really minded the attention. She’d expected it, really. If she’d wanted a different reaction, she’d have dressed differently.

Besides, men were averaging quite a bit higher prices for the same items. And, truth to tell, she loved the effect.

The man settled on fifty-four for the lamp and book.

* * *

He came back again in the evening. Late enough that Susan was helping her dad load up the truck with what was left: the dump closed in an hour, and they wanted to drop this stuff off before then.

As ‘salesgirl’ she headed over to say hi. “Back again? The dresser never sold, if you’ve changed your mind...”

He shook his head. “I wish, but it truly won’t fit. Not unless I knock out a wall. But I thought I’d come and see what you have as last-minute bargains.”

She waved her hand at the remnants of the sale. “Just what you see here. Don’t take too long; We need to head to the dump.”

He nodded, and wandered to the truck. “So, the price on you gone down yet?” He said, as he got up close and started looking over what her father was securing in the back of the pickup.

“Nope. Still more than you can afford.”

“Pity.” He picked up a god-awful heirloom that Susan had never thought would sell, looked it over, and set it back. “Pricing things sentimentally always gets you into trouble.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean your parents care for you, and they set your price based on that instead of objective value. Which is why it is ‘more than I can afford’. But its the end of the day, and no one has bought you yet, so instead of getting what you are worth, they’ve got nothing.” He turned to Susan’s father. “Come on, give me a number. How much for her?”

He scratched his head and played along. “How about three hundred thousand?” He said with a smile.

The man rolled his eyes. “See what I mean by based on sentimental pricing? The sign out front says ‘cash only’ and no one is going to carry around that much cash. I’m not even sure its physically possible.” He shook his head. “And now you’ve got nothing, despite her being out there all day with everything else. Its too bad, she really is a beauty.”

“So, what would you offer?” Her father asked.

The man didn’t answer immediately. Instead he spent a minute going through a ‘junk box’, before turning back it Susan and doing a quick appraisal before speaking. “Well,—and this is just an initial offer, of course—considering this is the end of the day at a garage sale, I’d have to start at two hundred.”

“Just two hundred? Not two hundred thousand?”

“Just two hundred. As I said, this is a garage sale. I’m sure she’d be worth more in a regular store, but people expect a bargain at a garage sale. Besides, this is the end of the day, and you’re taking everything that’s sat outside unsold to the dump, right? At this point I’m just offering because its the right thing to do: I could just collect her from the dump in the morning. That would be a better deal yet, though she might get a little damaged between now and then.”

Susan had to interject at this point. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I won’t be at the dump: I’m heading to college in the morning.”

He turned to face her. “Right. Just like I’m sure you told all this stuff that someone would be taking it home today. Let me guess, you are going along to ‘help unload’ right?” He waited until she nodded, then turned back to her father. “Obviously not as bright as I thought, but the two hundred stands.”

“Well, she’s always done alright in school...” He was scratching his head, obviously slightly puzzled about something.

“Pah, school.” A motion of his wrist made what he thought of school abundantly clear. “Rote-learning and indoctrination. A trained monkey could handle high school. Obviously you don’t expect her to be able to handle much more than she’s learned so far: why else would you set her outside with the rest of the stuff all day? And as for the college idea...” He shook his head, in obvious sorrow that such a thought had ever been seriously entertained. “Why would you throw more good money after bad? Its obvious from how you dressed her today what you’ve got her trained as, and she doesn’t need college for that.”

“I dressed myself this morning.” Susan felt the need to say that, to defend herself for some reason.

Really?“ He turned back to her father. “Maybe I’ve underestimated you. If you’ve got her well enough trained to dress like that for a sale on her own...”

Her father tried to look modest. “Well, I’ll admit it was her own idea, true enough. I even tried to talk her out of it, but not too hard.” His face took on a mix of emotions, sheepish, thoughtful, and puzzled. “Can’t say we did much ‘training’ though. She’s always been a good girl.”

The man looked impressed. “Really? She’s a natural? Wow. That raises my offer right there: two fifty.” He paused, then asked a delicate question. “Has she been kept unopened? Completely?”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

The man looked embarrassed to have to explain. “Is she a virgin?”

Susan’s father blushed. “I... I believe so, but its not like I’ve checked in a while.”

The man murmured to himself: “God help me, amateurs.” He turned to Susan. “I suppose it is to much to ask that you’ve kept yourself untouched with such lax supervision. How many times?”

It was Susan’s turn to blush. “I, uh...” She did a quick mental count. “Seven.”

He looked impressed. “Hmm. I’m impressed, especially given the lax training you’ve been given.”

For some reason, this pleased Susan.

The man turned back to her father. “So, what do you say? Two-fifty?”

Something was worrying her father. “Well, I don’t know. It just doesn’t seem right...”

“I know. That’s the problem with sentimental pricing: It feels right, to you, but you’re hung up on the sentiment. But if you stick to it too hard... You just end up throwing the best stuff away.” He gestured at the truck.

“Hank? Are you and Susan about ready to head to the dump yet?” Susan’s mother came around the corner of the house, a trash bag in hand. “Oh, hi. I didn’t realize anyone was still here.”

Susan’s father seemed to relax at the sight of his wife. “Edith, come over here. This nice man has offered two hundred fifty for Susan. What do you think?”

She looked aghast. “What?! Two hundred fifty dollars for our daughter? You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“I know it seems low. But you’ve got to admit, its better than nothing. And nothing is what you are going to get if you keep insisting on your sentiment-based pricing.” The man said to the newcomer.

“Still, two-fifty? What do you take me for? She’s worth far more than that. Just look at her!”

“For an untrained, impure girl of unknown origin at a garage sale? It sounds like a reasonable offer to me.”

A ‘hmmph’ was all Edith would say in reply.

The man threw up his hands in exasperation. “Look, I’m trying to be reasonable here. You want cash, and I only carry so much. I don’t know how much work it’ll be to train her, and I already know she’s got at least one bad habit. You could be hiding anything here. I have to look after my own interests.”

“You think we are hiding something? Take a good look at her. We’ve got nothing to hide.”

He shrugged, and walked up to Susan. He started to untie her blouse.

Something was wrong here. Susan looked over at her parents for guidance on what to do. They just stood there impassively.

She let him remove her blouse.

Her bra was next, then her cut-off jean-shorts, and the thong that was all that she could wear under them.

He had her put her hands behind her head, and spread her legs a bit while he examined her.

Something was definitely wrong here, and as soon as Susan could figure out what it was she was going to put a stop to it.

Just as soon as she figured it out.

He took careful examination, opening her mouth, checking the feel of her ass, her legs, of her breasts in his hands...

“Nice, aren’t they.” Her father said. “I bet you could search for months and never find a better set of breasts than on our Susan.” He continued, selling up her attributes.

The man was skeptical. “Are they real? What size are they?”

Susan’s mother answered. “Of course they’re real! You do not think we’d try to pass off fake boobs on you, do you? All natural double-D cup.” She stepped forward, and gave Susan’s nearer tit a bounce. “And just look at that: barely a hint of sag, at eighteen years.”

“I have to admit, they are impressive.” He took a good long look at them. “And the rest of the package is just as impressive. You’ve got her working out?”

“Swimming.” Her mother replied.

“Good choice.” He contemplated another moment. “I can go up to three hundred.”

“Not a penny less than five.” She replied, in an instant.

The man sagged, and turned to Edith. “Oh, come on. Five hundred? You really expect me to be carrying around that much cash?”

“If you are actually interested in buying our daughter, at least.”

“Still... I mean, she’s got a mole here! And from the looks of her, she’s spent way to much time in the sun. She’s going to get skin cancer early.”

“Five hundred. Take it or leave it.”

He threw his hands up at the injustice of the universe, and checked to see if Hank—Susan’s father—had anything to say.

He obviously was leaving this in his wife’s hands.

“What does that come with?” He asked, disgust in his voice. “Just the girl? Any of her stuff?”

“For five hundred, the clothes she was wearing.” She nodded to the pile where the man had left them. “You want more... One fifty for the rest of her wardrobe.”

“One hundred, for whatever she’s got packed.”

“Done.” She stuck out her hand, and the man shook it. “That’s most of her wardrobe anyway.” Susan’s mother reflected.

She turned to her daughter, who was still holding her ‘display’ pose: Hands behind her head, feet shoulder-width apart, naked in the grass. “Well, get dressed and grab your stuff.”

“I’ll have to get the rest of money from my car.” The man said, and headed to do so.

Susan let her arms down and started getting dressed, her head still feeling weird. Had she really just been sold?

Well, it was better than being thrown away, she supposed...

Her suitcase was in the front hall, ready for her departure tomorrow morning early. She grabbed it. If she hadn’t been going to college, what was the suitcase for?

Oh, so her new owner could get her stuff quickly, of course.

She walked back out to where the man was counting out the six hundred dollars he’d paid for her to her parents. They took it and put it away without fuss.

Susan walked up to her mother. “I’m going to miss you.” She gave a hug.

“I know. And we’ll miss you too.” He mother hugged her back, then released her. “Now, don’t keep your new owner waiting.”

“I won’t.”

Her father gave her a quick hug of his own. “Be a good girl for him, ok? I wouldn’t want him to think we sold him bad merchandise.”

“Of course, father.” She squeezed him, then released and turned around. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” She told her new owner.

“Its ok. I know your first sale can be traumatic. Just don’t do it again.”

She put her head down. “Of course, sir.”

Her suitcase fit neatly in his trunk, and she fit neatly in the passenger seat. Susan didn’t wave goodbye: She wanted to impress her owner with how well-behaved she was.

His hand drifted to her lap, and she wondered what he was going to use her for.

She’d find out soon enough. She was his property now.