The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Kissing Factor

(by S.B.)

27 — Aftermath

The sun rose over a brand new day, yet one that felt too similar to so many that had come before, a sad display of twisted memories and painful experiences no one wanted to go through again. The victims of the hypnotic kissing ordeal were gathered once again, five friends who had once been six, and whose souls would never fully mend for as long as they lived. For this occasion, they had chosen a neutral ground, a park away from all the places where their minds had been touched by something dark and hungry, a power that, left unchecked, would have continued to swallow them whole until nothing noteworthy remained. That power was behind bars now and her trial was due the morning after. While real closure would never come, the news provided a tiny moment of solace.

The cool morning air caressed their faces as they sat on a grass semi-circle, legs crossed. Despite being only a meter apart from one another, the silence that divided them was bigger and larger than The Great Wall of China. No one knew what to say and no one wanted to go first either.

“So...” Kabir eventually muttered, a gentle nod in everyone else’s direction as he tried to push out the words buried in his throat.

“So...” Belinda repeated, fingers interlocked, sunken eyes wandering between blades of grass and a butterfly flapping its wings above her head.

“How’s everyone been doing?” Kabir asked.

“Oh, you know...same old, same old...” Paula replied.

“Yeah, I do know that. Same here.”

“Likewise,” Denise brushed a speck of pollen from her blouse and sighed.

“Good... good. That’s good,” Kabir mumbled, not once realizing he just kept repeating the same word saying nothing constructive at all.

“Good,” Natasha said.

“Boy, this is awkward,” Belinda finally said what everyone else was thinking.

“Yeah. It shouldn’t be this hard, right?” Denise retorted.

“Shall we start again, this time with feeling?” Kabir queried.

“Go on then,” someone said, although he was too distracted to realize who it was.

“It’s been too long, guys. I hope you’ve been doing okay,” the young writer said, a tiny fragment of his once cheerful personality shining in his face.

“Six months is not that long,” Paula responded. “There were moments when it felt longer, though.”

“Yeah, I know exactly what you mean.”

“I think we all do,” Natasha noted. “Time has never been the same, right?”

“You’re absolutely right,” Belinda concurred. “And the dreams... don’t get me started on those! My therapist is having quite a field day with them.”

“Mine too,” Denise let out a faint chuckle. “Poor woman who has no idea what she got herself into with me.”

“So...” Kabir interjected. “Her trial is tomorrow and we’re all going to testify, right?”

“Her?” Paula frowned. “Are you really not going to say the bitch’s name?”

“Sorry, I kind of assumed you preferred I didn’t.”

“Not me. Gloria will always be a part of our lives. I’ll learn to ignore her, but I don’t want to forget or pretend none of this ever happened. How will I ever feel safe if I do? No, I choose to remember her name, but I still hope she rots in hell for everything she did, not just to us, but also to Timothy, and so many others that have been discovered in the meantime.”

“How many are we talking about?” Natasha asked.

“Lawyer wouldn’t say, but with the amount of evidence piling up, there’s no way this case is anything but a slam dunk despite how unbelievable it still seems.”

“I hope you’re right,” Belinda said. “The thought of Gloria somehow getting unscathed after the shit she pulled off makes my brain and stomach hurt.

“Oh, she would never get out unscathed even if our justice system failed to do its duty!” Denise exclaimed.

“What are you saying?” Kabir asked.

“That I wouldn’t hesitate to do what everyone else has thought about more than once in the last six months.”

“Kill her? Really?” Natasha shuddered.

“If that were the only way to make sure she wouldn’t kiss anyone into forceful submission, yes, really. And don’t try to say you’re above that anger and rage. You can’t be, considering you all suffered more than I did at her hands.”

“I guess we did, but still... Thinking about stuff like that is still messed up,” Kabir declared. “What does that make of us?”

“Human,” Denise concluded. “Human beings with real emotions and ups and downs and not narcissistic psychopaths with a fucking hypnotic agenda! I want to believe it will never come down to that, but I stand my ground. I’d rather put a bullet through her forehead or stick a knife down her throat than let her run amok again.”

“I’m starting to see your therapist is really in for a treat with you nowadays...” Natasha laughed.

“Guilty as charged, sweetie.”

“Has anyone talked to Deanna recently?” Belinda asked.

“Not me, “Kabir replied.

“Me neither, Natasha said.

“Denise? You were the one that spent more time with her during the crisis. Do you know anything?”

“Yeah, I do. We still talk on the phone from time to time. She’s on tour again, playing with minds in a safe and consensual way. She will not testify in person at the trial, but she’s rooting for us all. The next time she’s in town, she wants to meet with us all and I said ‘yes’. I probably should have asked, but you’re down for it, right?”

“Absolutely!” Belinda exclaimed. “We probably wouldn’t be here today if you hadn’t met her that night. Can you imagine what would have been like if that were the case?”

“I can, and I have,” Kabir confessed. “I’ve imagined it more times than I can number, and all of them were terrible scenarios I’d rather not have in my head, and yet they remain. This lingering hopelessness is the worst, and it really changed my perspective on things. No more hypnosis for Natasha and me since the day we got free from Gloria’s control.”

“Oh? What about Alana?” Denise asked.

“A part of her is still here,” Natasha replied, “but with the triggers fading, soon she’ll be a distant memory, too. It was fun being the heiress for a while, but I prefer this life no matter how messed up it’s become.”

“Are you guys happy at least?”

“We have our moments, but we’re supporting one another through all of this the best way we can.”

“That’s great. I’m glad for you,” Paula said.

“I also have something else going on that’s been helping a lot too,” Kabir said.

“Oh? What is it?” Paula asked.

“I think I know,” Denise smiled, noticing the little twitch of excitement in his fingers. “You’re writing something again, aren’t you?”

“I’m writing several things, but there’s one that’s been getting more attention than others. I’ve started my first novel.”

“You did? Oh wow, now I want to know everything!” What’s it about?” Belinda uncrossed her legs and brushed her hands on the fresh grass.

“It’s... well, it’s based on what happened to us, but not quite. My drafts change a lot of things, and events aren’t so chaotic through and through. When I first had the idea of doing something with it, I had a lot of doubts, but Natasha convinced me to keep going, and it’s the best decision I’ve ever made in a long time. I was stuck in an awful rut before, but now I’m starting to fight back the demons that still haunt me. It will take a while to get finished, though.

“How much have you written already?” Belinda insisted.

“The first three chapters, a segment of the fourth, and I have a few scattered notes for later developments on my computer. My plan entails twenty-seven though. I’m not sure if I’ll ever get it published or not, but I’m sure as hell I’m going to try.”

“Look at you, thinking big like that!” Paula said. “I can see you’ve changed, Kabir, and I have to say I like it.”

“You changed too, Paula. I can see it in your eyes. How’s your mother these days?”

“She’s okay. She asked me to tell you she misses having you around. There are a couple of new dishes on the menu you simply need to taste for yourselves.”

“Tell her that we missed her too and that we’ll drop by again someday.”

“I’ll only do that if you stick to your promise. Trust me, you don’t want to get on her bad side if you don’t.”

“Don’t worry, we’re going. In fact, we should all go together. And have Deanna join us there. It would be great to have a normal gathering again without triggers, drugs, or the threat of knives under the table. What do you say?”

“Only after the trial is over, okay?” Denise mumbled, and all the other women agreed.

“Sounds reasonable. Let’s hope it doesn’t drag for too long.”

“Do you think Gloria will plea insanity or something?” Natasha asked.

“Highly unlikely, dear,” Kabir leaned his head towards her and kissed her forehead. “She’s too proud and too self-absorbed. Saying she’s been crazy would destroy her on the inside. No, I expect her to be cold and calculating all the way through, but not once show any signs of regret.”

“How could we have all been so blind?” Belinda muttered. “That’s the one thing I don’t get in all of this. She didn’t become this deranged person overnight! This darkness was always there and we should have seen something in all these years.”

“If we had, do you think we could have saved her somehow? Stop this madness from unraveling?” Kabir moved away from his girlfriend and assumed a more authoritative position within the group.

“Do you?”

“No. I don’t think so. Gloria was lost to us long before as evidenced by everything else the authorities found out in the last couple of months. At one point, we considered her a friend and we’ll have to live with that, but we bear no responsibility for her actions and we couldn’t save someone that clearly didn’t want to be saved. This will always be all on her. Now, we pick up the pieces, rebuild, and keep going as strong as we can.”

“Well said,” Denise noted.

“Yeah, this clearly deserves a toast, but it’s way too soon for that.”

“No, it’s not,” Belinda retorted. “Hold on a minute, I’ll be right back.”

The tattooed beauty left in a hurry, running across the park as if a ferocious beast was hunting her. She was back they knew it with a bottle of red wine and a handful of plastic cups.

“Still up for that toast?” she smiled.

“Where did you get this?” Paula asked.

“In the trunk of my car, where else? There’s two more there if you think this isn’t enough.”

“Honey, you know we love you, but why do you carry three bottles of wine in your trunk? Should we be worried about you?”

“No. Sometimes, I drink to forget when the memories get too confusing, but I promise things never get out of hand.”

“Still, you might want to stick to just one or none in the future, okay? The last thing you need is a drinking problem right now.”

“I’m fine, Paula. Sorry about the cups, but that’s the only thing I had in the car.”

“I think I’ll pass on the toast, thanks.”

“Come on, Kabir, just a sip to show we’re all in this together and that we’ll never stop supporting each other from now on. We shared something incredibly traumatic most people won’t ever understand, but we do. We have to remain strong going forward, but we can’t do it alone. A drop or two won’t kill you.”

“Let’s do it, babe,” Natasha handed him a cup and batted her eyelids twice meaning she wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.

“All for one and one for all...” Denise said. “That’s how it goes, right?”

“If you’re a Musketeer, sure.” Kabir reluctantly accepted the cup and the swirling red liquid in it. Bathed by the morning sun, it reminded him of fresh blood, as if everyone present was about to partake in a solemn, yet dangerous black ritual instead of a genuine moment of bonding. However, Belinda was right. What they had now defied the norms, a deeper connection through pain that his fantastical escapades could never fully capture. It was a primal link, fierce and relentless, and a constant the media would explore for years and years to come. Explanations would be sought, theories discarded left and right, but ultimately would stay attached to those that had lived through it, a living shadow curled up in the innermost recesses of their brains, sometimes trying to whisper its way out. All alone, they would all be consumed by it, but if they stayed close, then safety and future prosperity would no longer mere words or fleeting mirages in the desert.

Kabir took the cup, raised it up high, and had the first go.

“I started this in a way,” he thought. “Tomorrow at the stand, I’ll finish it.”

The sun continued to shine on the group of broken and hopeful friends, telling it was okay to feel afraid, cry, and even scream, just as long as at the end of the day, they all stood up, held hands, and promised to keep fighting the good fight. And whenever despair crept in, hoping to find a permanent residence from which they couldn’t escape, the only rational and sane thing to do was to immediately kick out into the darkness, left to starve and wither in a pool of its own filth. Neither of them was the images Gloria tried to project, not even an approximation of that, but more, so much more: a vehicle of infinite possibilities with enough perseverance to overcome anything. The aftermath remained fresh, some broken pieces would never be glued together, but they would endure.

“What would you say to Gloria if you saw her right now?” He asked as soon as he emptied the cup.

“Burn, bitch, burn!” was everyone’s favorite response, and the park lit up with their shared joy for the first time.

They spent the rest of the day together, telling cringe jokes and what they hoped to accomplish the rest of the year. Gloria’s name was never mentioned again, and the last remnants of her kisses began to dissolve. Tomorrow, life would continue.

The end