The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I Have No Idea

by Redsliver

Chapter 19

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I leaned my head back and sighed in antagonistic arrogance. The sound of my piss overcame my repetitive smug voice. I had stomped up the pills in the far corner of the room. I spent an hour, give or take, being proud of myself. They didn’t give me—I didn’t give me even an empty bottle so I walked back over and I fouled the orange gel and amber powder. I pulled my shirt over my face when the bubbling became energetic. The other side of the room was the television. I retreated as quickly as I could.

“Hello Brian.” The video looped back for a fourth playthrough. “Take your medicine. You will not deny my children their father.”

“Fuck you, you’re just half the man I am. Why would I listen to a cripple?”

“As you awake, Mel is due. Because of you, another of my children is being failed by you. Take the medicine and stop denying your children these important moments. Another moment to be the best father I can be.”

“It’s on you, you insufferable prick.”

“From this point forward, you won’t know their names. You won’t poison their thoughts. You won’t exist in their eyes. In six years, you’ll have ended and our family will be whole.” I hated his voice. I had a deeper voice, with more gravitas, didn’t I? I wasn’t taken aback by the sound of my smugness. “Take your pills when you’re told and it should pass you by in less than one week of consciousness. Do what is right by your family.”

“Oh, I have a week to live? Let’s spend it in an empty void of a room listening to myself.”

“Every time you wake up, you will wake up in these walls. You’ll tantrum around but the hunger and the loneliness can only end with the drugs.”

“Yeah? And then you’re stuck in here? I fucking think not. How do you get back out?” I had to think like me. If you set out to do something that you’ve done without knowing you were doing it for years, how do you even start? I zoned my supervillain monologue out. It was easy to ignore me. Larry couldn’t manage that for years and here I was doing it over an hour. A half an hour? Two hours?

The remote only turned off or turned on and restarted the video. The controls on the television were inside the wall. The furniture was bolted to the floor.

“Hmmm,’ I considered.

“I can’t abandon the work I’ve done. The family I’ve built. I deserve it, you don’t. You’d have nothing if it didn’t come from me.”

“Poor me,” I mocked myself with fake crying noises. “Of course it’s not all about me. Shani had to suck this asshole’s dick. Surely, getting the box is better than what those girls have gone through.”

I threw the remote at my face. There was a small crack in the screen but the cheap plastic clicker rebounded back with its batteries and battery cover shooting off in other directions. The one small piece that broke off hit me in the chest.

“TannerPharm wasn’t even a dream of yours. You wanted nothing more than a comfortable home and wife who wouldn’t divorce you for half of a used sedan. Do not believe you will be granted what you do not deserve?”

“I should’ve aimed for the speakers.” I muttered. I hammered the little door for the sixteenth time. No one came to check. I moved back to the television.

It hurt like hell. Shards of glass or hard plastic burst around my elbow. The screen shorted out and shut down. My frustrating voice bitched for another few seconds before it spazzed out. I shook my arm in pain. I wiped my elbow trying to get the splinters and spurs away so I wouldn’t be cut to shit.

“Aagh!” I bitched and pressed my palm to my teeth to yank out and spit away a sliver. Blood welled up and ran down my lifeline.

“Smart. You’re a world conquering billionaire genius.” I admonished myself. I walked away from the busted up television. “Well, at least if I’m listening to myself now. I’ll be saying awesome things.”

I didn’t speak for the next immeasurable lump of time. There were no windows. The lights were boring office fluorescence. I couldn’t even hear pipes in the walls. The left side smelled like piss. I slumped my shoulders and wandered back to the broken glass.

“Fuck deluxe! Shit giggles!” I smiled for my stupid expletives. “Cunt smuggling, twat gargler... Ah, I miss Rena. Lawrence and Lorraine were clearly my decisions, what do you think she would’ve named her own kids?”

I didn’t answer. Great. My blood pooled in my shirt which I had wrapped around one of the bigger blades of glass. I wormed it around the edge of the door. I found three bolts on one side, it clearly opened outward. I couldn’t reach the hinges on the other.

“Well, another mystery solved.” The glass crashed as I pitched aside my makeshift tool. I sucked my bleeding fingers. I felt weird. Robbed of other stimuli, the taste of my own blood was novel enough to keep me from flipping out.

“It’s no fun if there’s no one to panic with,” I grumbled. I kept my hand in a tight fist. The cut in my palm had stopped running but the one across my index and middle finger was still oozing. I kept my hand off the edge of the bed as I laid down. “It had to be you, didn’t it?”

I closed my eyes, thinking of Mel and Ellie. Those girls with their Brooklyn accents and perky tits. I imagined their thick strawberry blond hair and their visible excitement to see me. It didn’t help. I fucking hated masturbating with my left hand. I kicked off my pants as I swung back out of bed. I shook away my insignificant blood loss. I looked at the spatter on the wall. I could smell my piss in the air.

“Yeah, maybe I’m right? Maybe I have no business around kids.” I frowned and headed back for the couch.

“Her name is Noel, I have a dream about her…” I murmured to myself. My mind on my daughter’s chubby face before my view rolled up to see the soft smile on Amanda’s. She was beautiful. Smart. Reckless. I could’ve really loved her. I probably did. I smiled. I seemed to love all of the women. All of my family.

Amanda was still a mystery. I figured she was afraid of me. The Brian she had known for less than a whole 24 hours now. Assuming the story about that little coffee shop in Hell’s Kitchen was the whole story. I ground my teeth. She had been trying to make female viagra? Well, nothing puts a girl in the mood like long term mind control.

“I shouldn’t be laughing at that.” I leaned forward with my elbows on my knees. “Was she scared of me? Was she just a puppet? Am I the only one at fault? Do I want to believe that she was doing what evil me wanted her to?”

I didn’t answer. I sank back. Even thinking of her big tits and bright smile wasn’t enough for my left hand. My right hand was still leaking. I stomped back over to the door.

“I pissed everywhere and injured myself. Bring on the security!” I yelled. I counted to thirty and then back to zero. I think I stumbled over a couple numbers: seventeen sixteen fifteen sixteen fifteen fourteen, but I was pretty good at it. “Shit? Am I going to have to slit my wrists?”

There was a big razor of glass just waiting for me. I chose not to. I didn’t know if evil me thought it was better for me to die than it was for him to see his kids again. My, heartbeat, kids. I didn’t want to black out. I didn’t want him to come back. I didn’t care if he did from time to time if I had my family. Fuck Island was fun and all. I’d even pitch some of my freedom to hold Mel and my youngest-for-the-next-couple-of-months. I hoped she was doing well.

“Goddammit, Larry.” I moaned as I sat back down and looked at the broken screen. I considered pulling it out of the wall, but it had to be unnecessary. The only places to grip were forests of razor sharp glass. Yeah. I’d rather masturbate left handed.

“Shani gave me orange pills. You drove me around for Amanda to give me orange pills. I think Mel gave me orange pills.” I tried to focus on the last few days I was awake. Yet, they weren’t like memories of yesterday. I was trying to reach back months. “Dad says I whammied you, Larry. Is that why I had Shani? Was I some brutal pirate. I take what I want and I want what I take. Fuck. What did I do to you?”

I had no answer. I focused my thoughts on Shani. She had a crinkle that turned her really big smiles off center to her left. She had been so much the same. Except for the sexuality I hadn’t dealt with before. She was so much fitter. Mind control worked wonders for one’s exercise and diet. I laughed at myself.

I was in the best shape of my life. I had run around for days, chasing tail, fucking whores, and loving my family. I couldn’t even remember a moment I was out of breath or sore from it all. I loved being strong, being healthy. I frowned.

I did push-ups. I found the space by the bed and around the corner from the couch the cleanest. I cracked open the beginnings of the scabbing on my palm. Sets of twenty. In my memory, I managed 20 pushups once upon a time. I had been barely out of college. I called out everyone.

“...eighteen, nineteen, twenty!” I grinned without even feeling it.

“...eighteen, nineteen, sixty!” I was still laughing.

“...eighteen, nineteen, one hundred…” Now I was just bored.

“...eighteen, nineteen, two hundred.” I stopped. I was tired, it had affected me. I wasn’t a God but I doubted I was near my limit. I sat Indian style and let my shoulders fall back against the bed. “What did I do everyday to get this good?”

I had no answer for myself. I cocked out my lower lip. I looked at the bloody handprint on the floor. I looked at my red stained hand. I closed my eyes. I wasn’t bleeding anymore but there was still a warm wet feeling and I immediately let myself go. I opened my eyes, staring up at the plastic plates over the lightning fixtures.

“I have a bad idea.” I wasn’t really realizing I was talking aloud. I must’ve been doing it on and off. I couldn’t move the furniture. I could take the mattress off the bed. I stood on the adjustable frame. I reached for the light fixtures.

I could push the plate glass upward. I could wiggle it some. I could not get it out of the way. I stood back, almost to the opposite end of the room. I tossed the double A batteries from the remote control up and down in my left hand. I shook my head. I put them in my right.

I was being destructive to be destructive. I squealed and rushed backwards two paces as I pitched the two batteries as hard as I could through the light cover and the bulbs beneath it. There was a big crack but mostly the batteries sailed through without shattering open the cover. The burst fluorescent bulbs inside, they were more of a mess.

Shards of broken glass and dust sieved out of the broken fixture. “This is why I need my step-mom around. I wouldn’t have done something this stupid if she was watching.”

I looked around again. I was happy I moved the mattress to the corner of the room. Not the pee corner, the next one over crossing the bed frame. I did want to even lay down under that light fixture, let alone on the crap that had fallen out of it.

I smiled. Dad and Mom. Garth and his Livvie. They loved me. They wanted me. The black out me was a symptom, a disease I had to be supported through. I needed their help. It was terrifying how I had relapsed. How people I loved had been a part of it. How I may have made them into weapons against me.

“I just want to do right. I don’t want you looking me in the eye and worrying it’s the version of me that got upset that you were waiting on this version of me. I’m so sorry. I just want to be hugged.”

I frowned. I hoped someone was listening. I hoped no one could see me this vulnerable. I shook my head. Olivia, I could feel her hand on my shoulder if I forced myself to imagine it. She had that goofy smile. She had had braces. I was going to miss imperfection. Yet, even demanding all of the women be gorgeous, all the women were gorgeous and different but good. Watching Olivia and Shani and Rena pull themselves up to as high a level as they could, I felt amazement and pride.

“But is this worth wanting? I’m so glad you waited for me, Mom.” Did I use that name for her when I wasn’t me? I preferred Olivia but I was happy to extend the love to her. Would I do anything for her in the blackout? Was I totally a greedy shit?

I didn’t have an answer.

I paced the room again. I sang as loud and off tune as I could manage. Amish Paradise, White and Nerdy, Eat It, Fat, all of the hits and classics. It was amazing. The only other songs I could remember the lyrics to were old tv themes and Green Day’s dookie. I was never a musical kid.

I sat down by the door singing my last few bars, “... You’re a pal and a confidant.” I kicked out my feet. Crossed my ankles and leaned back on my hands. I grimaced as I got blood in my hair. I bounced my toes around, sitting mostly naked in my empty last moments sell. I leaned up and asked of the door. “There’s a password, isn’t there?”

“Antiquing?” I guessed. No, I guess the last thing Bender would ever say wasn’t the last thing I would ever guess. “Open Sesame?”

That was hardly even clever. I said random words that could be passwords. “Swordfish? 1 2 3 4 5? The pigeon shits itself at midnight?”

Was there even a password? Was there even a microphone or camera watching me? Was I just on a timer? Why didn’t I wake up belted to the bed with a gag and get the drug in my arm or something? If it had to go through my stomach they put tubes down patients throats to feed them sometimes. don’t they?

“I had no answer.” I said it aloud this time. That hurt. I hung my head forward and ground my teeth some. I pulled my hands from behind my head. I winced as I yanked out a couple of hairs. I had to use my teeth to keep my cuts from healing over the strands.

“Alice Perkins, huh?” I took the tangent to stay out of my smouldering self loathing. “Shit, who’d she grow up into.” She had been the first kid in our grade to get braces. I think the only one who got teased for it. In my defense, I liked her. I wish I could’ve figured out all of her smiling and punching me were signs she had liked me back. Then mom got sick and I got moody. I was happy I had named the coffee shop after her. I wonder if I’d ever tracked her down and showed her the place. “Hey, I haven’t talked to you in fifteen years! Wanna be whisked away to Fuck Island?”

“Is that whisk like the kitchen tool?” I asked the door but the door was a shit Siri.

“I don’t think I even tried to stalk her on facebook.” I frowned. The Alice Perkins cafe, sure, but there was no nostalgic girls around. I hadn’t dredged up any old crushes and put them to work on the island, kept them for myself. All the women in my life were the ones that were in my life at the moment of the drug.

Was I keeping things from him? Or did I just leave people behind? I never visited mom’s grave after we buried her. If I wanted to have memories of her, that’s what Dad’s house was for. Plus, I could share those memories with Dad or Larry. No, I think that was me. I didn’t pick up the litter my life left behind.

“The red fox hunts at midnight?” I asked. Fuck was it even “hunts” I was trying to think of.

“Best Spies: 3 Sam 2 Clover 1 Tarzan?” I tried. It wasn’t my email password.

“Mother fucker!” I shouted. “Step-mother fucker!” I corrected. “Giving me a week to live and you can’t even give me something to read?” I kicked into the floor but I wasn’t feeling the tantrum. “You, know, I only ever read the Tarzan books. I have no doubt there’s a Dejah Thoris in my sci-fi brothel playroom.”

“Of course, you know,” I leaned back. “I miss my Valkyrie.”

First of all, she had four inches on me. That’s a big bitch. Yet, she was gorgeous, didn’t have like giant face or anything. And that cute accent? Like she had been speaking English all of her adult life but had done grade school somewhere there had been vikings. Plus you think a girl that big would be loose just as a matter of size. Nope, all that muscle holding her up? Those were all kegels, baby.

I’m sure whoever was listening was deeply worried by the cackling I was doing. Shit, I didn’t even know my Valkyrie’s name. I didn’t want her to have a name. I wanted her to have armor, a spear, a helmet of swan feathers, an insatiable lust. I only needed the lust and enough Sisyphos to fossilize my cock.

There was Dakota at the beach, Nastya in her Emma Frost get up, Doc Vanessa in a lab coat. And it wasn’t just tall chicks. Bethany didn’t need her glasses anymore. At least I had came on them in her little barbershop. Her salon. Her studio really. Anh and Jade those two Southeast Asian girls Larry loved. I didn’t even know he had yellow fever.

I remembered finding Zenya, that one girl I hadn’t gotten around to fucking in my blackout. I felt like I was accomplishing something. Dark skin, thick hair, strong legs.

I closed my eyes. I could pull up faces and bodies and names but hardly three of a kind. The Valkyrie stood out and the little blonde, Nastya too but I couldn’t picture her in anything but her X-Men costume. There was Traci, I had woken up with that first morning when Rena had found me. I found Traci with Ellie later at The Castle. I frowned.

“Doc Vanessa’ a redhead.” I told myself. I believed it. Damn. I frowned. I don’t know what brought me back to thinking of Larry? Was I trying to figure out which was Jade and who was Anh? Larry had mocked me for letting paying customers walk away with a whore. With Dakota? Was she special? She was a bartender I liked. Dad got on with her. I had saved her from being shipped away and replaced. I didn’t even want her? What the hell?

I saved her from being shipped away?

Yes, I told her where I had wanted her in the cast. I had overseen her audition myself. I had told Ellie to stop trying to force her into a Latina role. I hadn’t been there. He had been.

I had an answer.

I reached up, grinning like an idiot, I rapped my knuckles on the door. “Hey, Shani, we’re all set in here, let’s go check in on Mel and Brooke.”

“You know she doesn’t want to name your daughter that.” I heard Shani’s voice laugh out of some speaker. Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. I stood up. I pushed on the door.

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