The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Hi!” Richie’s voice cracked as Gabrielle Xu stepped before him. Of course she was pretty. Obviously she was pretty. Holy shit was she pretty! He forced a smile through his red-faced embarrassment.

“Hey, glad you came out to the show,” Gabrielle said, in a way she hadn’t spoken wading through the nittering wading pool of teenage girls.

“Yeah, um, this is Caitlin,” he said, struggling for a thought.

“Oh my god!” Caitlin grinned, “That dress is amazing!”

“Wait till you see how the skirt flies during Rainstorm,” Gabrielle gave a half twirl.

“That’s just my favorite song!” Caitlin said, brightly. Lying clearly to Richie’s ears.

“It’s pretty great,” Richie added. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“But not your favorite?” she asked.

“I like Where Are You?,” he said. That was the song he had lost his virginity to. Harper had been nervous and it had taken a couple hours of foreplay, which in itself had been awesome. The spotify playlist had been on repeat. It was the fifth time the song had played.

It had also been the song Harper had started the playlist on.

Gabrielle tilted her head and hid behind a smile as she looked over Richie.

“You said my biggest fan wasn’t here,” she said.

“Caitlin’s best friend, who is also my girlfriend, couldn’t make it,” Richie said. “I’d gotten these tickets for her, but she’d have not wanted me to miss out.”

“Oh, is she alright?”

Richie’s face went a bit ashen.

“She’s not dead? Oh I’m so—”

“She’s not dead!” Richie barked quickly. The whole room was silently watching them now.

“Oh, well,” Gabrielle asserted her smile. “I know. How about I record a quick message for her? I’m sure she’d appreciate it, right?”

“She’d be head over heels for it,” Richie said. Caitlin had her phone out. Everyone else had gotten selfies. Richie stayed still, holding the last bagged bean, a crushed powdered mess, in his left fist.

“What’s her name?”

“Harper,” Caitlin answered when Richie’s throat caught.

“Great!” Gabrielle put down her water bottle behind Richie. Absently, she laid the cap inverted on the mouth. Caitlin clicked record on the selfie camera and handed it to Gabrielle. Gabrielle stepped against Richie’s side and held the phone so it recorded down on the pair of them.

“He~ey Harper! I’m so sorry you couldn’t make it tonight. I am so~oo thrilled to meet your boyfriend, Richie and your best friend Caitlin! I’m gonna show them a great time tonight and hope you get better soon! Lots of love!”

Gabrielle blew a kiss, panned the camera across Caitlin and Richie’s faces before posing with a peace sign salute.

“That was incredibly sweet of you,” Richie said. His eyes flicked to the water and back to Gabrielle’s face. “I can’t monopolize your time, lots of fans to click pictures with.”

“You’re gonna enjoy the show, or are you gonna look more and more miserable?” Gabrielle flicked Richie in the chin. He smiled.

“I’m gonna enjoy the show,” Richie said.

“And if he gets all mopey, I’ll kick him up into gear,” Caitlin promised with a side hug against Richie.

“Excellent!” Gabrielle said. “Hi~ii!” She had moved onto the next girl. Caitlin watched her ass. Richie’s eyes went to the water bottle once more. His eyes then immediately went up the gorilla bodyguard who snatched it up and stepped away from the crowd.

“She’s really nice,” Caitlin said, leaning in and whispering into Richie’s ear. “When do you make the play?”

Gabrielle was walking back to the dressing room. Pete flanked beside her.

“That poor girl!”

“The Indian with cancer? Miserable, poor thing.”

“What?” Gabrielle asked. “Oh, that was a wig wasn’t it? Um, no, well, yes that is sad. I meant the, uh, girlfriend of Richie.

“Ricky? Mikey’s wife beater?” Pete said.

“No, he isn’t,” Gabrielle said. “And his name is Richie. Chuh.”

“Right, Richie and his girlfriend. I guess a car crash is pretty shitty,” he said, frowning and not saying aloud, but it’s not cancer.

“Her name is Caitlin,” Gabrielle corrected. “And she’s not the girlfriend. She’s sort of the friend of the girlfriend.”

“I don’t follow,” Pete said, as they reached the change room doors.

“He’s got this girlfriend, Harper. She was the Gabrielle Xu fan,” Gabrielle said, picking up a fresh water bottle and sipping a little before putting it down at her makeup table. The stylist ran up and double checked her work. Gabrielle kept talking. “You saw Caitlin. Well the other girl in the car couldn’t even make it here tonight. Caitlin’s best friend. Richie’s girlfriend.”

“Hey, Gabby! Go! Go! Go!” Jacob drummed his hands across Gabrielle’s shoulders and started herding backup dancers.

“Keep an eye on those two Pete?” she said. “He’s feeling kinda guilty without Harper.”

Pete nodded. That kid had one hell of a sob story if he had Gabrielle tied around his finger already. He sighed and nodded. He was on backstage pass duty anyways. They could look, but sooner or later, he might have to wave in one of the female staff to drag a young teen back from the curtain.

“Excellent!” she hopped out of her chair, put the cap upside down on her water bottle, and aimed for the stage. She punched her hands in the air, amping herself up, and cheered. “Let’s break everyone’s legs!”

Oksana’s steering wheel was slick with sweat. She didn’t feel she could control the vehicle well. Another loud honking car passed her for going fifteen under the limit. Frankie sat in the passenger seat, wearing a seatbelt and all but strangling his rat. He was slunk down, his ass off the seat and his knees up on his chest, doing his best to be unseen as he looked out the window.

“You’re going the wrong way,” he said. “Go that way!”

“That’s the fucking pond! The bridge around it is this way,” Oksana said.

“Just get there!” he grumbled, and brandished his rat at her.

Oksana fully stopped at every red light. She didn’t have the conviction to drive her dad’s car into a tree the way Caitlin had. She hoped that she was making enough a nuisance that the police would pull her over.

Would he just get out and run?

Please! Please! Please!

“Are you making him happy?”

“Who?” Oksana said.

“Richie,” Frankie scoffed. “You said you were a lesbo when I asked you out. Did you learn to suck dick good? You’re not wasting his time are you?”

“I—Fuck off!” she growled. “Seriously, you think I’m gonna help get you off?”

“No,” Frankie said. “I’m not gonna let you cheat on Richie.”

Oksana looked in the rearview mirror. She couldn’t will flashing police lights to appear.

“So were you lying about being a lesbo to me—”

“A lesbian! I’m a lesbian. Not a lesbo! A lesbian.”

“Shit, whatever,” Frankie said. “I didn’t call you a dyke.”

“Oh thank you! So much!”

“You’re welcome,” Frankie mumbled. “Whatever, but your Richie’s lesbian, right? I’m sure he doesn’t just use you to lick that cute little black chick of his.”

“Uh,” Oksana shook his head. “He kinda likes that too.”

“Yeah, but you got big titties! You’re keeping him from those are you?”

“I fuck Richie! Yes, I do, OK? And he likes it. And… And… He likes my boobs, yes. I’m getting better. I’m not a whore like Caitlin or something.”

“Caitlin’s the black girl?”

“The redhead,” Oksana said. The one who drove you into a fucking tree. But Oksana couldn’t will herself to do the same.

“Shit? That girl better not be driving Richie around tonight. She’s fucking terrible at it,” Frankie said. “Now go that way! He’s that way!”

“It’s a one way street! I gotta go to Townsend and make that turn!” Oksana snapped.

A speeding horn blared by them. He shushed his rat and stroked its head. Oksana kept her eyes off of the pair of them.

Security escorted the meet ’n greeters to their seats in the front rows. The stadium was a QMJHL hockey rink. The ice had been cleared and rubber mats had been rolled out over the concrete. Rows of chairs face the stage backed by seating sections one and two.

The stadium was already at a low rumble. The opening act was lined up behind the black curtains to come out and play. Richie couldn’t remember their name. He was certain he had never heard one song of theirs.

“I thought they had gone on before Gabrielle came out to see us?” Caitlin asked, yelling lips to ear to be heard over the background noise. It was like a nightclub, but the music hadn’t started yet.

Six thousand people, talking at once, had driven in for hours to see one of the few big shows that would come this far out into the sticks. Lights clunked on, spotlighting the stage. Five young, teens and twenty-somethings, came out carrying guitars and bases. There were two raised platforms, left and right, that held big drum sets. They weren’t lit up. A third rolling set came out and a tall skinny carrot top kid, probably the youngest of the five sat down and started a low rumble.

“Hello Canada!” A screeching bassist, hot as fuck with a swish of neon green hair shouted into her microphone.

The crowd started to rumble up as the first riff hit.

“You’re the only one sitting down!” Caitlin yelled again.

Richie looked up. He had Caitlin’s phone in hand. The sealed baggie was pressed against its back. The video of Gabrielle played.

He couldn’t hear it. The sound was low and the show was starting.

“No I’m not,” he shouted back into Caitlin’s ear.

“She’s in a wheelchair! C’mon they sound good! And I wanna show you off!”

She dragged him up. He did so. Caitlin bounced and danced as the group rocked. Richie would have to remember their name. Had they said it? It was probably on his ticket stub.

He was looking down at the phone again.

He pressed play again.

He would never get to show this to Harper.

The twenty minute opening set came and went in an eyeblink. Caitlin was sweaty and hugged him hard.

“They got me so~oo ready to go!” she said.

“Oh? Why?”

“Did you see the girl on bass? I just had to imagine what you could do with her!” She giggled madly.

Richie looked around. The whole stadium was buzzing with energy. The openers had done their job.

“You want a quickie in the bathroom?” Caitlin said, pleading. “If I don’t calm down, one look at Gabrielle and I’ll squirt all over the floor.”

She grabbed his neck and pleaded leaning off of him.

Richie grinned.

Yeah, that’s what he needed! Caitlin was incredible. Caitlin was his. Caitlin was ready to go. He put her phone into his pocket, squishing the already pulverized bean between it and his own. Caitlin squealed brightly as he dragged her by the hand.

They had ten minutes before Gabrielle hit the stage.

Ten minutes was enough time to purge his demons.

Why did he have to keep thinking about it?

They stepped around the girl in a wheelchair. Passed by the dad and his daughter. Didn’t hear the “I know what you guys’re gonna do!” singsong from Denise, the excited bully who had knocked down Marley the twin.

He wouldn’t have denied it. Caitlin would’ve bragged.

They cut out through the back end. Now what? Go to the absolutely packed public washrooms for a quickie? He wouldn’t risk getting caught in the ladies room. He’d have to bring Caitlin into the men’s room. There wasn’t a line.

“Hey,” the security goon said.

“What?” Richie came to a stop. It wasn’t the gorilla with the badges. It was the polar bear who had been on top of Gabrielle’s water.

“Oh god! The line!” Caitlin moaned.

“Don’t wanna miss the show, huh?” He said. “Special treatment,” he said, pointing at Caitlin’s badge. He aimed them down a short hall.

It wasn’t the dressing room, there was another goon there and backstage access, wasn’t personal space access. They passed the meet and greet room as Caitlin gleefully dragged them into a small public washroom, across from a third goon. He flicked his eyes at the badges.

“Six minutes,” he told them. “You don’t want to miss her show.”

“Yeah, the show!” Caitlin laughed. “That’s half the reason we came here!”

He frowned, confused at her. She dragged Richie into the washroom.

“Hey Darren, switch spots?” Pete asked, coming down a second after Richie and Caitlin.

“Your babysitting charges just went in for a quickie before the show,” Darren pointed. “I thought you were covering for Mikey.”

“Yeah, someone has to. Why not Darren?” Pete said.

“Sure,” Darren said. “Don’t get trampled. Jacob herds them out as a stampede.”

“I’ve been doing this as long as you,” Pete said.

“Right,” Darren said. He jogged around the corner and down to the end of the hallway. “Hey! Hey! Passes? OK, sorry, can’t let you back here. Besides, you wanna get to your seats, show’s about to start!”

He always sounded like he was smiling.

Even during that one show when a crazed dude had flung himself onstage after Gabrielle. Darren had smiled a lot as the fists had flown.

Now he was backstage and they had others who wouldn’t get caught grinning if an incident occurred out where all the cameras were.

Pete didn’t care.

Gabby had taken to the kid’s sob story about a missing girlfriend. Anyone with half a brain cell could see that Red was totally down for Skinny Jeans. Ricky. Richie. Whatever.

Kill the illusion, save the work.

Jacob was setting fires under everyone. He barrelled out the door ahead of the dancers and led them running to the stage. Pete watched the dancers and Gabrielle go by, getting just out of the way enough to push in the public washroom door behind himself.

Maybe Gabby would see that the guy was a total dog and lose whatever bright light she had seen in him.

Maybe she’d finally take a second look at Pete?

She did wave but jogged on with a glance over Pete’s shoulder. Her face didn’t darken, but smiled knowingly.

Pete turned his head.

All he saw was Richie juggling a little baggie in his left hand. His pants were still on. Caitlin couldn’t be seen.

I guess she was taking a piss. Richie didn’t look over to see Pete. Pete let the door fall closed.

It wasn’t his job to police drug use. Gabrielle had seen a few baggies of powder on the tour.

The tour bus would be loaded on the Newfoundland ferry early in the morning. This Richie guy would hardly be a memory to forget. Pete felt reassured. He let the door fall closed and walked over to follow the dancers out behind the stage.

Caitlin glared at Richie as he watched that video again.

“Hey,” she said, licking her lips and putting her foot against the strut as she leant back on the stall. She inched her skirt higher with pinched fingers. “Didn’t you want to get crazy?”

“Yeah,” he said, looking up. “That is precisely what I wanted to do.”

He shut off the video and slipped her phone back in his pocket. He squished the baggie and pulled it out. He frowned at it until he heard the bathroom door. He turned his head.

“I want you so much! Harper’s gone, there’s just you,” she walked over and ran her fingers up his chest. “Me.” She cupped his face, pulling his eyes from the closed door, and kissed him. “And soon to be a big titted pop tart.”

He pulled her in by the waist and kissed her back. He was smiling when their lips broke apart.

“Cait, I love you,” he said.

“I love you too,” she said, glowing. “C’mon, we only got like four minutes!”

He smiled and slipped the baggie back into his pocket. He missed the mouth halfway and the last bean fell to the floor. He grabbed Caitlin by the ass and hefted her up and slammed her back against the divider.

One hand squeezing her ass, and her hands holding her aloft, freed him up enough to unzip his fly.

She spotted the baggie on the floor.

It’d be there in four minutes and—

“You dropped your…” She let go and pointed.

She slid down the steel divider as his skinny jeans failed to slide down his legs. He turned and soured once more. He packed his cock back in his boxers and yanked up his pants as he moved to fetch his magic bean.

“What are you thinking?”

“That Gabrielle leaves the cap of her water bottles the wrong way up.”

“What do we do about the big man?”

He grimaced and snatched up the bag. Caitlin sighed, frowned, and reached down to zip up his jeans.

Frankenstein’s Lightning had really enjoyed their show. Some venues getting on before Gabrielle was a chore. They were a bit harder than Gabrielle’s poppy fair, but not by much. Sometimes the venue just didn’t click.

Blaire inhaled her vape pen and lay starfished out on a beanbag chair. Kenny and Jahil were drinking beer. She didn’t see Yari and Mitchell, so when the dressing room door opened, she figured it was them. So did Jahil and Kenny, only they didn’t look up as they were busy bitching about something nerdy.

Blaire swung up to a sitting position. There was a kid and a chick, poking their heads in. She frowned.

“Guys?” she asked the others.

“What?” Jahil said. His eyes followed Blaire’s finger. “Oh, he~ey.”

The music started.

“Uh, hi,” the boy said. He flashed a badge that really didn’t say he should be in there. Jahil and Kenny were bought off.

“Missing the show,” Kenny said.

That’s when the girl rushed them.

“Oh my god! You guys were amazing!” Tits, pretty good ones too. Jahil and Kenny were enthralled. Blaire’s eyes went to the makeup covered bruise. “Wait, I don’t have pockets!”

She ran back to her guy and pulled phones out of Skinny Jeans’s right pocket. She slapped the smaller one back into the guy’s hand with a smirk. She twirled about.

“You want a selfie?” Jahil said. “Hope you don’t mind it’s just us three! Our drummer and backup guitarist ran to get food.”

“That’s where they went?” Blaire asked. They were the act. If they wanted food, they’d have it brought to them. Ran to get food was an idiom for the two of them really needed to fuck.

“Yeah,” Jahil said. “Jesus what happened to you?” He asked, pointing at his would-be groupie’s cast.

“Car accident,” she said. “Luckily, Richie didn’t want me to miss this. Hey, can I get the band to sign my cast? My name’s Caitlin!”

“Damned straight you can!” Kenny said, “Blaire, grab a marker or something?”

Blaire shook her head. She was surprised. The guy wasn’t looking after his girl. Usually when this happened he was either holding in jealousy or dripping in excitement. He trusted her and…

Blaire had picked up a marker from a nearby table. She frowned as the guy pulled his hair by Gabby’s cubby. He shook his head, put on a smile and walked over.

They quickly signed the girl’s cast and took a quick selfie with her.

“C’mon, you don’t want to miss Rainstorm,” Blaire said. “Gabby’s show is awesome and you shouldn’t miss it.”

“Blaire!” Jahil whispered through a clenched tooth smile. Blaire shook her head.

“Yeah, we should go and check it out,” skinny-jeans agreed. He wrapped his arm around Caitlin’s shoulder. She waved her newly signed cast. Jahil had scribbled their neck bolts and lightning logo. It looked nothing like what the graphic designer had made. They soon left.

“Darren shouldn’t have let them in,” Blaire said.

“Did you see her though! You never kicked a groupie out before,” Jahil moaned.

“I didn’t like their vibe,” Blaire said. She tossed the pen absently over a shoulder and walked over to Gabby’s stuff. She frowned.

What was out of place?

She didn’t see anything missing. Had he stolen something? Some merch to pitch on eBay or something?

It didn’t look like it. The only thing that seemed out of place was that the cap of Gabby’s water was tilted, sitting askew in the mouth.

She always laid it flat.

“Blaire? What’s up?”

“I dunno,” she said. “Probably nothing.” She poured out the bottle down the drain.

“Cool, I’m grabbing your vape,” Jahil said, taking a puff.

Six thousand people was a lot of energy and a lot of feedback. It was also incredibly impersonal. The crowd was a monster, begging to be fed, and desperate for her. It was empty. Usually. In a stadium this big, in a city this far away from familiar faces, it should’ve been.

Gabrielle often made eye contact with the front mass of people during a show. The front rows flooded the stage. Adoring empty eyes of people who loved her music. It was easy to let it go to her head. That’s why she tried to see it as a monster.

It was during her second song, he and the redhead were back, at the very edges of the stage lights, over the screaming horde of teenage girls. He and the redhead.

He stood out.

A guy hadn’t stood out to her in a long time. She smiled, she had to smile, it was part of the routine. Except, it was an honest one. More honest than ever.

She had a show to do. She sang her lungs out.

The show was pretty awesome. Harper would have loved it. She would’ve been in that middle of that mass that moved and jumped straight ahead of his and Caitlin’s seats. They hung at the back, not getting dragged into the chaos.

Richie tried to lose himself as his heart hammered madly, competing with the bass from the giant woofers and speakers. He sang along. He knew all of the words. He held Caitlin’s hips. She was having a great time. She knew substantially fewer words.

Rainstorm set the building off. The spectacle was incredible. Showers of pyrotechnic sparks blasted away. More and more rows of concert goers were pouring into the stage. Richie and Caitlin eased back until his calves were pinned against his seat.

The crowd went wild as the song dropped and Gabrielle vanished stage left. She returned stage right, all but supernaturally quick. Her blue fly skirt dress was replaced with a red and pink number that grabbed Richie by the eyeballs and refused to let go.

She burned through a thunderous Step Off! to keep the momentum crashing. The next song let things slow down.

When the stage lights narrowed in and haloed Gabrielle so that only she could be seen. The stagehands and dancers quietly and quickly rearranged things invisibly. Hate Me Like You Love Me Like You Love Me needed the moment to set up.

The first few notes of Where Are You? And How Do I Get There? started.

“I never knew how hard it could be to stop thinking about you,” Gabrielle’s sweet voice rang out. Phones were rising up, shining their flashlights like lighters decades ago.

Caitlin felt Richie’s hands stop swaying her hips. She twisted and he was ducking away from the crowd once again. She frowned and raced after him.

It was just a moment, a half heartbeat of time. She found his face when the first words came out of her mouth.

It was his favorite song.

He ran.

Gabrielle’s heart broke. He knew how to get to the one he loved. She didn’t even know if she could have someone she would love.

“Richie, wait!” Caitlin called out as they rushed through the back passages to the nearest exit. One of the big muscle bound guys watched them go. His name was Mikey and neither Richie nor Caitlin saw him or even remembered him from earlier that night.

He slammed out the back end to the lower end parking lot, next to the bay doors where the tour bus sat. He grabbed his hair and cursed into the sky.

“Richie!” Caitlin jogged out. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t go through with it!” he said.

“But all you have to do is wait,” Caitlin said. “I even flirted with those sketchy band guys for cover.”

He pulled out the last baggie from his pocket. Still unzipped. Still full of the bean.

“She wasn’t good enough?” Caitlin tilted her head trying to understand.

“No, none of you are,” he said. “And all of you are.”

“What?” she asked, uncertain of anything besides her hurt feelings.

“This is for Harper!” He held the bean aloft and bellowed. He scanned the parking lot left and right, saw four dumpsters and pitched the baggie at them.

They were six car lengths away. The baggie was not made for throwing. It almost ran the distance of one parking spot.

Richie fell to a sitting position on the ground.

“Damn,” Caitlin said. She stepped forward to get it. He grabbed for her hand, ran his finger down her cast, and decided to grab her knee and put his pressure there.

“Let it go,” he said. “I know what I want. It’s you. It’s the others. It’s not some pretty stranger. I want the women I love.”

Caitlin started to feel better.

The wind hit the parking lot out of nowhere. Caitlin’s hair waved and Richie’s was impermeably fixed with gel. The bag moved, ripping on the asphalt and spreading its mess over a single tuft of grass that had forced its way through the pavement.

Richie sighed. He grabbed his knees and shook his head. He stood up.

“What now?” Caitlin asked.

“If I had anything to do but go home, I’d do that,” he said. “I need my girls.”

The crack knocked them both to their feet. Those flat blades of grass twisted together and shot skyward, growing dozens of feet per second. Chunks of asphalt cracked and rolled apart as one, two, three parking spots were consumed in the geyser of growth.

“Fuck off,” Caitlin said. “You weren’t lying. Magic beans.”

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Richie sneered.