The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Club Trabant was an easy stroll from the hostel. Rebecca had never given the journey much thought, aside from a few recent stray ideas concerning cross-promotion. Free drinks at Club Trabant with every night’s stay. Free, special drinks from Peter, that is. Come, stare into this pretty shot glass… But tonight, in the dark and the increasingly ugly rain that filled it, the blocks felt like miles.

It didn’t help that there were potential enemies everywhere.

Every brain cell screamed at her to run, to just drop everything and make a full-on sprint until she arrived, heaving and on the verge of throwing up, at the club. But she knew it would draw attention or, worse yet, lead her blundering straight into any traps that were waiting for her along the way. Instead, she walked quickly from awning to awning, stopping under each for a few moments before pressing on to the next. Walking, if nothing else, allowed her to stay relatively dry.

She ducked under a metal canopy that clattered under the heavy downpour, and scanned her surroundings for the hundredth time. Scanning for… for what, exactly? She wasn’t sure. Edwin and Amanda, rushing down the street in full pursuit? A programmed assassin lurking in the shadows? There were two men ahead of her, sheltered under the next awning, waiting out the worst of the rain. Or were they? Perhaps they would grab her as she moved past, hauling her, kicking and screaming, off to be hypnotized by…

“No.” She could barely hear herself over the rain. “Get it the fuck together, Rebecca! We can do this. Go go go!” But her legs, chilly and increasingly wet, refused to move any faster. In fact, they refused to move at all.

“Ten seconds. One. Two. Three. Go on ten. Four.”

Club Trabant was not far. There would be people there. Even a few people would be enough to protect her. She had allies there, and witnesses. Plenty of those. “Five. Six. Seven.”

Still no one coming after her. No Alice, either, which was probably to be expected. A small part of her still carried the hope that her powerful hypnotist thrall would somehow be able to subdue Edwin and Amanda all by herself. “It was so easy, dearie! They dropped like tenpins! Everything is back to normal, Mistress Rebecca!

“Eight. Nine.” But Alice wasn’t intended to be the heroine of the story.

Alice was the distraction.

“Ten. Ten more steps,” she muttered, as she finally willed her frightened body to move again. A gust of wind blew raindrops into her face. She shut her eyes and pushed forward.

Slave waited for her target to turn away. Only then did she step from behind her hiding place, a chunky column plastered with posters that Emily would have recognized as a Litfasssäulen. Emily knew many things that Slave did not, but then again, Slave knew one very important thing that Emily would never know about, and that thing was going to be settled right here and now. Those were Slave’s orders, and she relished the thought of carrying them out. Her hand plunged inside a coat pocket, where… yes, it was still there. Still ready.

“That’s it, Slave. Gaze upon it. Let it fill your mind. Rebecca is your enemy. Say it. Say it and mean it.”

“Rebecca is my enemy.” Flash. Flash. “Rebecca is my enemy.”

“Remember how she used Emily, Slave. She needs to be stopped. You will stop her.”

“I will stop her.” Even in trance, her voice was strong and forceful.

“Here. Take it. Take it and do what needs to be done.”

Slave reached for the knife in Amanda’s hands. “What needs to be done.”

The wind blew more rain into Slave’s eyes. She blinked and lowered her head, frustrated for only a moment, allowing her programming to smooth away the discomfort. Rebecca was only a few blocks from Club Trabant, but Slave was moving faster. Slave knew about Rebecca. Rebecca did not know about Slave.

She looked down at her boots. Emily had paid a fortune for them, but they proved to be worth every penny, and Emily never left home without them. But they also slowed Slave down, and that was unacceptable. She rested her butt against the column and bent over, cold fingers fumbling with the zippers on her boots. In a few moments she was able to wrestle them free, tossing them to the pavement. The rain soaked into her socks as she flexed her toes.

“I will do what needs to be done.”

Now free of her clunky footwear, she padded through the growing puddles, taking care to keep just out of Rebecca’s sight.

“Have you collected everyone?” Edwin wrapped his arm around a random waist and pulled its owner to his side, enjoying the way her warm body felt against his own. He didn’t bother to see which girl he’d grabbed. It didn’t really matter. “Answer me.”

“Sir!” Celeste’s hand smacked against her forehead with a faint thump. “Agent Celeste reporting for duty, sir! Everyone in the hostel is accounted for, sir!” She straightened her back and pushed her impressive tits forward, as if begging him to fondle them.

Before he could decide on that, Amanda interrupted. “Why is she acting like G.I. Joe?”

“I have no idea, Mandy,” he said, snickering. “It’s what she thinks a soldier does, I guess.” He stared at her chest. “Not that I mind it one bit, obviously.”

Amanda peered through a window. “It’s raining. Really shitting it down, too. Okay,” she said, her frown twisting into something more resembling a determined sneer. “Girls! We are leaving! Go to your rooms and collect your shoes and jackets. Return here immediately. Do it now!”

She pushed through the crowd as the girls scurried away. “The last thing we need is for all of them to catch their death out there.”

“I wish you’d thought of that before you sent that hot redhead out into a downpour,” said Edwin. He reached for the girl standing next to him and, suddenly realizing that she was still there, looked up in surprise. A pair of stunning, empty blue eyes gazed back at him. Alice’s eyes. “I think Emily’s the best of the group.”

“I think I’ve heard enough of your screaming and fucking to know that, Edwin.” Amanda pulled a trench coat over her lean frame, and tossed a similar-looking garment in his direction. It collided with Alice and slid to the floor. “If she’s alive and not in jail at the end of this, you can go right back to training her. In the meantime, we’re going down there to finish what we started.”

“Hmmph. I hate the rain,” he said, running a lazy hand up and down Alice’s back.

Amanda rolled her eyes, making sure that he could see her as she did so. “I honestly don’t know how I put up with someone as lazy as you. We’re about to pull of the biggest upset in the history of this business and you’re afraid of getting WET? Jesus, Edwin!”

“I’ll think about it while you get the coats for the girls,” he said, pulling Alice into a passionate, if awkward, embrace.

“Edwin!”

“I’m kidding, Mandy! I’m kidding! I’m coming with you! Just go with Celeste and get them all ready. You don’t need me for that.”

He shifted his new minion into a more comfortable position as the angry clap clap clap of Amanda’s heels receded down the hallway.

Rebecca greeted the buzzy neon Club Trabant sign with weary acceptance more than grateful relief. She was safe now, at least, and Alice had assured her that Peter would know what to do next. But the next steps were all very vague and seemed to lead nowhere.

She glanced up at the sign. Two weeks ago, I was in Chicago. Two weeks ago, I’d never heard of this fucking place. Emily, why did you have to choose this place? Why didn’t you LISTEN to me? We could have gone home.

“We could have gone home.” She took a deep, stuttering breath, fighting the tears that threatened to cover her already-wet face. “I want to go home. I just want to go home.”

“Colonel Sanders! Hey! Wait up!”

Rebecca’s heart—and her other organs, from the feel of it—crammed against her throat. A scream, sharp and frightened, escaped from her mouth before she could hold it in. “Em! Jesus! You scared the SHIT out of me! Don’t ever do that again!” She placed her hands against her face, wiping the rain away as best she could. “Serious, don’t ever! I thought I was going to have a heart attack!”

“Of course, Mistress. I understand.” The redhead drew closer, until they were sharing the same square of sidewalk.

“You’re… holy shit, Em, let’s get you inside. Where the fuck are your boots?” Rebecca raised her arm, intending to place it around her friend’s wet clothes, hoping to warm her up before she came down with a nasty case of pneumonia. “How long have you been out here?”

“I need to tell you something, Mistress Rebecca.”

The arm stopped. Rebecca froze. Something in Emily’s voice didn’t sound right. It was wet and heavy and rain-choked, much like her own, but there was more to it than that. It was meant to sound seductive, dripping with the lust and desire that Rebecca and Celeste had spent hours drilling into her mind. Instead, it sounded…

She backed away. “Let’s go inside,” she offered. “Then you can tell me.”

“I don’t think so.” Slave closed the gap again, until they were inches apart. “There are too many witnesses inside.”

Rebecca turned to run.

“Do you love me?”

Alice responded with another long, seductive row of kisses, moving up Edwin’s chest until she was level with his face. She saved her best one for his lips, letting hers linger on them, hot tendrils of breath snaking from her nose and brushing his skin. “Mmmm.”

She was sitting in his lap, one arm thrown around his shoulders, the other dancing on fingertips between his legs and his torso. “Yes, Master. I shall obey without question. I love you.”

“Tell me,” he said, as he placed his hands on her delicate shoulders, “who is the better hypnotist? Me or you?”

“You are, Master. After all, you are the master.”

Edwin grinned as his hands roamed her body. He glanced down the hall. Girls continued to file out of their rooms, clad in a wide variety of raincoats, jackets, and other coverings hastily pulled from suitcases and backpacks. Behind them, drifting in and out of view, were Amanda and Celeste, directing traffic and managing their new troops. He had a few minutes, at least.

“I’m doing this for Mandy, you know. This was really her idea, going big time. I was perfectly fine picking up an especially weak-willed girl here and there, whoring her out for a while, wiping her memory. I’m sure you know how it works. But you can’t deny that this is a lucrative way to make money, can you? I mean, look what you’ve managed to accomplish here! How much money do you pull in every week, Alice?”

“I’d have to check the books for the full details, Master. It turns a nice profit.”

“Profit. That’s what my Amanda really wants. I can’t really blame her. Berlin’s expensive. When I told her about you, and what you’ve got here… let’s just say that Amanda gets what she desires. And so do I.” His hands rose beneath her sweater, gently caressing her soft, perky breasts. “To be honest, I thought you’d put up more of a fight, but I see that you’ve been a little… distracted.”

Alice squirmed in his lap. Her eyes fell upon his. Pale and blue, just like his first love. The first girl he’d ever enslaved. He kissed her again, savoring the long-forgotten memory.

“I was always jealous of you, Alice. And now I don’t need to be, because we’re working together. Isn’t that nice?”

“It is, dearie.” Her eyes sparkled. “I’ve been really meaning to work with someone. I thought that Rebecca or Celeste would do, but they’re not nearly as perfect as you are! I’m so grateful, oh I really am! Thank you for making me your slave, Master!”

“From now on, once we’re done here, Mandy will be running the hostel. You’re going to be busy scouting out hot young things at your club, hypnotizing them and sending them my way. And if you’re extra good, Alice… I’ll let you join in.”

“Very well, Master. If it pleases you, I’ll do it.”

“See? Everyone gets what they want. Mandy gets her money and her power, and I get my pick of the most beautiful women in the world. You’re not so bad yourself, Alice. Once we’ve swapped out your clothes for something more… appropriate, we can…” He paused and drew away his hands, placing one to his ear. In the distance, he could just make out Amanda barking orders. “Ah, the wife. Always dedicated to the business. Well, you know what they say. Keeping different hobbies is the secret to a good marriage!”

He slowly rose to his feet, keeping his hands on Alice to keep her from falling to the floor. “Get your coat on,” he said, as he reached for his own. “The other secret to a good marriage is knowing when to do what your wife wants without complaining about it.”

“Of course, Master.”

Time slowed to a crawl.

Rebecca turned to run. Mid-spin, she realized that a better option would have been to give Emily a shove, pushing her away and putting a little distance between the two of them. But it was too late for that now. She was a better runner than the redhead, and the front door was only forty feet away. She pivoted on her left foot, right leg extending to take the first long stride. Her vision blurred as everything spun before her. Her foot pressed against the pavement, ready to push away.

She heard it before she felt it. A scraping sound, like sandpaper. She could feel the pebbles pressing against her foot, loose and wet and offering no purchase at all as she spun wildly. Then the pebbles gave way and her foot shot out behind her as she cried out in surprise. She jerked awkwardly to one side and landed heavily on her right leg. Pain flared through her entire body as oh ow fuck goddamn it some muscle inside stretched to its limit and beyond. Instead of running for the door, she found herself off-course and drifting into the alley behind the club.

She stumbled a few steps further into the alley. Panic set in as she realized that her new escape route dead-ended at a blank, four-story concrete wall. Between her and it were four alley doors, including the creaky metal one that led into the back of Club Trabant. If she could bang on it, let Peter know, scream if she had to, she could-

A pair of hands pushed hard against her shoulder blades. Her injured leg collapsed, and she dropped to all fours, her hands scraping painfully against the wet and filthy pavement.

Slave towered above her. “You’re not going anywhere,” she sneered.

“Em… the FUCK!” Rebecca crawled on her hands and knees, ignoring the fireballs burning away at her hands and the throbbing pain in her leg as she struggled to make it to the club’s rear entrance. “Listen to me! I’m your friend!”

“Oh, you are?” Slave aimed a kick at Rebecca’s midsection and missed, connecting instead with the girl’s ass. She stepped back as her enemy groaned and rolled onto her side. “You’ve got a funny way of showing it, friend.” The last word dripped from her lips. “I thought we were friends, Rebecca. Now I know better. Now you’re going to fucking pay for it.”

Pain and confusion mixed through Rebecca’s brain in a sickening, nonstop swirl. She leaned until she was back on all fours and began to struggle to her feet. “Emily, I don’t… I don’t know what you’re talking about!” She searched her brain for any reason why… they fucking hypnotized her… dammit, they hypnotized her out from under me and then they

“…tried to brainwash me! You tried to make me into your little love slave… and I let you! I trusted you!”

Rebecca froze. She knows she knows she knows how the fuck does she know! “Emily,” she sputtered, “I’m sorry… I didn’t… I don’t… whatever you remember, it wasn’t like that, it was…”

“Do you know how many times I cried myself to sleep, Rebecca?” The redhead was shaking now, her voice cracking with every other word. “How many times I waited for you to fall asleep and then went into the bathroom to cry? I put a towel over my face so you wouldn’t hear because I felt bad for you! Oh my God! I thought I was going crazy and I didn’t want you to feel bad for me… and it’s all your fucking fault!” She reached into her jacket and pulled out the kitchen knife.

Her eyes narrowed. “Now I’m going to kill you.”

More than a bit of Rebecca’s soul died in that very moment, staring in disbelief at her best friend as Emily brandished her weapon and pointed it at her. A knife the fuck Emily oh my God oh my GOD! “Put it down,” she pleaded, but one look at Emily made it clear that wasn’t going to happen. She rested on her hands and knees, deciding that it would make her harder to stab, if it came to that. Her fingers brushed against a stone, and she closed her hand around it.

As expected, Emily lowered her head and charged forward, knife in her right hand, growling in anger. To her surprise, Rebecca found herself calming down, her body losing the tension that had her frozen in place. She waited as her target grew closer, and when the time seemed right, she pitched the rock at Emily’s head.

The rock struck Emily’s shoulder and bounced away. It wasn’t enough to cause any pain—not that Emily would be able to feel any in her mesmerized state, anyway—but it was enough to briefly throw her off-balance. In that moment, Rebecca kicked at her as hard as she could.

Her shin landed against Emily’s with a solid thud. It felt like colliding with a coffee table in the dark of night, and she cried out in pain as she instinctively pulled her injured leg back to her. She rolled onto her side again just in time to see Emily stumble to the ground. The knife fell from her hand and clattered along the ground, bouncing and sliding and reflecting the single lamp above the club door until it finally came to rest.

Rebecca looked at the knife, and then at her best friend in the whole world. The beautiful, funny, gregarious girl who took her zip-lining through the jungle and up the sides of enormous mountains, the girl who called her Colonel Sanders and who loved watching hypnotized people act like chickens. Her Emily.

She looked at the knife. Emily was in motion, muttering obscenities. Emily, with her great tits and her great ass and her glorious cunt that dripped for Rebecca, her lovely face and the soft, sexy cooing noises she made as Rebecca ate her out, her brown eyes rolling into her from the sheer pleasure of-

Emily dashed forward, arms low to the ground. Rebecca was faster, and had a far better sense of where the knife had come to rest. The two of them converged, a mass of shoves and grunts and shouts, as Rebecca’s hand darted to the pavement and closed around the big wooden handle. Her other hand gave the redhead a sharp shove, and suddenly they were apart again, two feet from one another, the knife pointed to the ground but firmly in Rebecca’s control.

She retreated, clutching the weapon with her right hand. “Emily… I’m sorry. I really am. I’m so, so, so sorry! I never should have. I didn’t think that I could and then… I… I didn’t stop and I should have. I tried to fix things with you and Roger and I thought I did. I’m an asshole, and I’ll never… let’s just go home, okay? I just want to go home.”

The redhead didn’t respond. She moved to her left, circling around the alley, trying to flank Rebecca in a narrow space that wouldn’t allow for it. They made two full circuits before she finally spoke. “Even without the knife, I’m going to kill you. I’m going to throttle the fucking life out of you.”

Rebecca adjusted her grip on the knife, until the blade was pointed at her friend. “I don’t want to hurt you, Em.”

“It’s a little too late for that.”

“What the fuck do you want? Do you think I’m going to stab you to death? Fuck YOU!” Rebecca turned and threw the knife as hard as she could, watching it sail out of the alley and into the street beyond, realizing as it disappeared into the darkness that I just threw a fucking knife oh shit don’t hit anyone! There was a faint metallic rattle as it returned to earth, then silence.

Emily watched her, not moving, not blinking, just staring at her and breathing heavily. Rebecca’s leg muscles spasmed again, and she bit her lip until it passed. “Someone hypnotized you, Em. Someone’s controlling your mind. Listen to me, okay? I’m your friend. Don’t do this. You have to listen to me. Let me help you.”

Emily said nothing, and Rebecca’s heart sank. She brushed an arm across her snot-filled nose, sniffling and breaking out into a short cough. The rain was coming down even harder now, and she was soaked through. She took a step towards the door, waiting for Emily to react. When nothing happened, she took another. And a third.

“I love you, Emily. I’m never… please. Just come inside with me.”

She was at the door. She blindly reached for the knob, eyes locked on Emily’s. The knob turned, but nothing happened. Stuck. She placed two hands on it, tugging, then slapping a hand against the cold metal surface, before realizing that she’d turned her back on the redhead.

Emily plowed into her, sending the two women sprawling to the ground in a mass of wildly waving legs and arms. Rebecca attempted a shout, but Emily jammed a fist into her stomach, and the shout quickly turned into a weak gurgle. “Em… no!”

But her Emily was gone. The thing that clawed at her arms and reached for her hair was acting on pure hypnotic programming, its empty brown eyes cold and lifeless as they scanned Rebecca’s flailing body for any weakness, any opening. With no other options left, Rebecca reached for and grabbed a fistful of red hair. She pulled, hard, hoping to get out from under Emily’s weight, but the redhead responded with punches to the face that left Rebecca blurry and dizzy.

She tried to move away, but her opponent was now perched on top of her, knees jammed into Rebecca’s stomach. It was hard to breathe, much less move. Emily easily batted away her weakening counter-punches.

“I must kill Rebecca,” Emily droned. Her tiny, wet hands found their way to Rebecca’s throat, and closed around it.

Oh shit no! No Em no! Rebecca squirmed. Her legs were squarely under Emily’s body, immobilized. She couldn’t breathe. Emily didn’t have the strongest hold on her neck, but it was enough to cut off most of her oxygen, and she could feel herself slip a little more with each passing second. Her hands landed blows against Emily’s upper body and face without effect. As a last resort, she tried pressing her neck against her chin, hoping to somehow bite the hands that were killing her. That didn’t work, either. “Em…” she managed, her voice high and thin. “Plll… please… Emmmmm…”

“I must kill Rebecca.”

Buzzing. Her ears were buzzing. Raindrops landed in her eyes and rolled into her open mouth, but she didn’t feel them. It was hard to feel anything. Emily’s hands, the pebbles pressing into her back, the cries of pain from her injured leg, everything blended together into a passive, distant sensation of pain. Her arms felt heavy, and she let them fall limply to the ground. “Emily,” she tried to say, but there was no air left for words. Her lips pressed together again and again. “Em… Em… Em…”

The blackness began to creep in, blotting out the corners of her vision and gathering in a blue and black cloud behind Emily. It swallowed the light over the door and hovered over them like an approaching thunderstorm. Death, she thought to herself. It was an odd thing to think about. She was so young, and yet… This is how it ends. She tried to let herself go, to enter the light, or the darkness, or whatever was next. Please… please… I want to go to heaven, I want… I’m sorry… Em…

And then the blur washed over them both, rolling and boiling and making sharp noises, like an angry crowd, their echoes lingering in Rebecca’s fuzzy ears for what seemed like forever. A tendril shot out of the blur and wrapped around Emily’s neck. Another fell against the redhead’s neck like an axe, and suddenly Emily’s eyes rolled into her head.

“Urk,” she grunted, before her eyes slammed shut and she dropped, bonelessly, out of sight.

Cold, wet air rushed into Rebecca’s lungs, and although they were grateful, she was not. “P…please…” she said to the blur, tears in her eyes. “Please don’t… I want to go up… please don’t… don’t take me down. Don’t take me to hell. Please.” She sucked in another breath, wondering why she was still able to do so. Dead people didn’t breathe. Or did they?

“Are you okay, boss? I thought she was gonna kill you. Here, holy shit, you’re fucking soaked. Lemme help you up. Here, hold on to me.”

The tendrils became hands, soft hands, feminine hands, pressing against her wet clothes and slowly drawing her to her feet. Her legs protested, and she toppled forward, only for the blur to keep her from sliding back to the ground. “Hey. Hey, Rebecca. Listen, are you okay?”

Rebecca closed her eyes. It felt good to close her eyes.

“REBECCA.”

Someone was shaking her. Fingertips poked her forehead and cheek. She cautiously opened one eye, expecting to see angels. Or devils. Or both. Instead…

“Grace?”

“Um, yeah! Jesus, I heard all of this commotion and screaming out here and I told Peter I was gonna go fuck up someone’s shit. Why the hell was Hot Girl whaling on you? I had to fucking judo-chop her to get her to stop. Take a deep breath, okay? Take a lot of breaths.”

“Grace… it’s Emily. She’s been… someone hypnotized her.”

The bartender looked at the unconscious redhead, lying on her side. The rise and fall of her chest gave the only indication of life. “Pfft. What? Oh shit, like a stage show thing? Fuck, Rebecca, that’s crazy! I’ve seen people do some weird things under hypnosis, but holy shit.”

“We can’t leave her here in the alley.”

“True. Can you stand?”

Rebecca nodded.

Grace released her and knelt next to Emily. “I’ll get her. Go inside. Have Peter call the cops or at least the EMS. You should get yourself checked out.”

“I’m fine.” She wasn’t fine, and it felt ridiculous to even pretend to be so. Her heart, having come so close to flatlining, now threatened to burst through her chest. Everything rushed back in along with the oxygen. Emily’s attack. Alice’s plan. Amanda and Edwin. The whole—“Shit, Grace! We have to get inside. They’re coming. They’re probably coming, like, right now!”

“Who’s coming?” The bartender had Emily draped on her shoulder and was heading for the door. “If there’s some gang shit about to go down, we’re definitely calling the police.”

“I don’t…” Rebecca began, before stopping. She could barely stand on her own two feet, much less take the time to explain to Grace in careful detail about what really went on at Club Trabant, and how the local police were likely to respond to a gaggle of brainwashed young women and their mind-controlling kidnappers. “I don’t have time,” she said instead. “Grace, go deep into trance now.”

Grace shifted her weight as the trigger hit her, and the still-unconscious Emily began to slide to the ground. “Into… yesssss… missss…”

“Deep in trance and obedient. Hold onto Emily and don’t let her fall.”

“Yes, Mistress. I am deep in trance. I obey.” She stood up straight and tall, pressing Emily against her body. “I await my commands.”

I await my commands. The same familiar words, hot and sexy and full of potential. It feels so sexy to be so powerful. To be the most powerful hypnotist in the world. Part of Rebecca loved seeing Grace like this. Standing motionless in her black tank top and pants, her deep cleavage glistening from the rain, ready to obey any command Rebecca could think of. Eagerly awaiting those commands. Commanded to be taken upstairs and fucked senseless again. To look into Rebecca’s eyes with nothing but pure devotion and servitude.

You love controlling our minds.

The hot bartender was only one side of the coin. The other was Emily—broken and ruined, her mind and her will passed from Alice to Rebecca to Edwin in short succession. The other two used her like a disposable tool for their own selfish ends.

Am I really any different? I used her, too.

You love controlling her mind.

But it’s wrong, Rebecca! Look at her!

It wasn’t the blank-eyed robot assassin that really shook Rebecca, even now that Grace had come to her rescue. It wasn’t the knife, or the pain in her leg, or the angry bruises that were already beginning to swell. It was the pain she’d seen in those soft brown eyes. The hurt. The anger. That wasn’t programmed, not entirely. The fire that burned behind then was very real. In the end, Edwin and Amanda didn’t need to wind up their little murder toy. Rebecca had done that for them.

What would Celeste say to that, if her mind belonged to her? If she knew the truth about what Rebecca had done to Emily? How would she feel? What would she say? How much anger and disappointment would burn behind her eyes?

“Bring Emily inside,” she said. “I… wait, no. Please bring Emily inside, Grace. Don’t let anyone see her except for Peter. Do you have any blankets?”

“No, Mistress.”

“We’ll try to round up some towels, I guess. At least get her dried off.” She rubbed her sore leg. “Also, I’m gonna need a stiff drink.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

She followed Grace and Emily through the door, and slammed it shut behind her.