The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Haley had been at Cambridge for less than a week when she was discovered. She was crossing the quad of her college when she was approached by a tall, heavy-set girl with black hair and Gypsy good looks. “You’re Haley,” said the girl, with an East European accent. It was not a question. “I’m Helen Samhain. We need to talk. I’ll be down in the Loop at 8. See you there.” And she was off.

Haley was surprised, and curious. She imagined that Helen was recruiting for one of the college societies or sports clubs. She enquired and learned that the Loop was the student bar in the basement of Kings College. Helen was listed in the college directory: there was little information other than that she was from Prague, she was reading Medicine, and she was “chair of the Jokers’ Club.”

The Loop was cavernous, mostly empty, and smelt of stale beer, but the chairs were large and comfortable, and – when Haley entered – the Allaround was playing Debussy. She found Helen sitting at a spool table with a tall, Bridesheadesque student introduced as “Giles.” She almost expected him to be clutching a teddy bear.

Helen wasted no time. Haley, we think you should join the Jokers’ Club.

“Oh! You’re… um… that is…”

Caught you. That’s right, we’re psionics. You too.

“Oh. Well.” Yes, I am. It’s nice to meet you. I didn’t know how I would meet another telepath at Cambridge. She was quite relieved. She had feared being an outsider at University. Are there more… people like us?

Giles laughed. PLUs? There are. Quite a few. On the faculty, as well. You won’t know who they are, usually. The Vice-Chancellor has a thing about psionics, so they keep their minds well buttoned up. The psionic students are more forthcoming.

“Uh, do you mind if we just speak normally? I always worry about being overheard when I bespeak.”

Helen said, “Your bespeaking does broadcast a bit. You should learn to keep it more focussed. Who taught you?”

“Well, she doesn’t want her name to be known.”

“What school, then?”

“North Banbury Comprehensive.”

Helen and Giles glanced at one another. “Interesting,” said Giles. “Not many state school psionics in the Jokers. Oh, the Jokers’ Club, I should have said, that’s our little cover story for the psionic students’ group. Helen’s the chair. I’m sort of the War Councillor.” Giles grinned.

“Don’t put on airs, darling,” said Helen. “If there were ever a war, I’d be Boudicca, and you’d be my prisoner. You can be the Games Director.” She put one hand on his arm familiarly. Haley suspected that the two of them had something going on.

“But what does the club do?” said Haley.

“It’s partly a network, so we can support each other and find out news. If anyone gets into trouble, we can help each other out. Also, it’s a training ground. We help each other improve our abilities. You, for example, need to make your shields less obvious. That’s how I spotted you. And of course it’s a social club. Some of us quite like to party. Can I assume that you’d like to join?”

“Um, yes. Please. If you’ll have me. It sounds great!”

“Excellent,” said Giles. “Our little group grows apace. Brothers in arms together!” he said, smiling at Haley in a way that was not quite brotherly. “Of course, you’ll have to go through the initiation.”

Helen explained, “Giles likes to organise little competitions for us to pit our skills against each other. It’s quite a brutal world out there, and there are the Psi Police and a lot of rogue psionics working for them. We need to keep our defences honed. So new members have a trial by combat. Don’t worry, even if you lose you get to join.”

“What do I have to do?”

Helen pulled a slip of paper from her cleavage and passed it to Haley to open. “Recognise that?”

“Of course. It’s from Hamlet. Ophelia…”

“Don’t say it! And keep your mind-shield up. No peeping, Giles. That’s your secret passphrase, Haley. Giles doesn’t know what it is. He’s given a different quote to your opponent. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to find out your opponent’s quote. His mission is to find out yours. That’s it. No holds barred. When you find it out, report back to me.”

Giles produced a small photo of a dark-haired young man. “That’s him. David Lieberman. First-year student, lives in Magdalene College. Modern Lit. Bespeaks, does some projection, not much else. Crap defenses. Fancies himself a bit of an artist.”

“What kind of artist?”

“Better you should find out for yourself. Element of surprise, all that.”

Haley found this suitably mysterious. “What does he know about me?”

Helen said, “He knows that you’re a controller. Fair warning’s fair. Otherwise you could just walk up to him and make him your robot. Don’t look so surprised! I spotted you for a controller in about ten seconds. It takes one to know one. I don’t use it much though. Prefer to use my womanly wiles.”

“And very wily they are,” said Giles. “So that’s it, young Haley. Are you willing?”

“Yes! It sounds like fun. People have always told me not to use my abilities: ‘hide them, keep them secret, hush or you’ll be discovered.’ Boring. So now you’re saying I can go ahead and stretch my wings? Fantastic!”

Giles said, “Admirable enthusiasm. The contest begins in the morning. Go stalk your prey.”