The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“What’s that you’re humming?”

“Hmm?” I paused, glancing over at my love. “Was I humming?”

“Something like humming, anyway,” she said with a grin. “Your eyes were closed and your lips were moving, but I couldn’t hear the words.” She looked at me sidelong for a moment. “Were you singing? Do you sing, Jimmy?”

I blushed furiously at that, looking away. “I... don’t really sing,” I murmured softly.

“Oh? By why not? You have a really nice speaking voice. I love that baritone timbre. I bet you have a great singing voice,” I only blushed deeper, avoiding her gaze, hoping she would just let the matter drop... but I was quickly starting to learn Devon was as tenacious as she was lovely. She continued to stare at me,, waiting patiently for me to explain, until finally, with a deep sigh, I explained.

“Okay. Yes, I can sing. I know how. And... well, i don’t have a terrible sounding voice, or anything...” I glanced down again. “Singing for me is just... personal. Maybe it because my cousin is a world famous singer, and I can’t help but compare myself to her even back when we were just kids... I dunno. Whatever the reason, I’ve never felt comfortable singing for other people. In fact... the only person I’ve ever sung for is my twin sister Katie.” I shrugged. “She used to get scared at night sleeping alone, especially during a storm, and i would hold her and sing to her until she fell asleep.“

Devon smiled. “Ahhh... that’s so sweet! You must be the best big brother in the world!”

I seriously doubted that. Since my powers first kicked in, changing me so drastically from a mirror image of her, we seemed to split apart. As if no longer looking alike meant we were no longer twins or something. And yeah, it was pretty much all my doing, pulling away from her instead of the other way around. Still, as she grew up and became popular, had lots of friends and playmates—particularly Jessica—I just always seemed to be in the way. Eventually, staying back out of the way just became...natural.

“I’ve... been getting better,” I admitted after a moment. “We’re not as close as we used to be, but we’ve been talking and hanging out a lot more lately.”

Devon pulled me close, snuggling against me. “Please sing something for me.” Closing my eyes, pressing her head against my chest, I began to sing something by Audioslave:

“On a cob web afternoon,

In a room full of emptiness

By a freeway I confess

I was lost in the pages of a book full of death;

Reading how we’ll die alone.

And if we’re good we’ll lay to rest,

Anywhere we want to go.”

I felt her sigh and relax, melting into me with every word. It was...strange. But nice. I wondered idly if this was what Sylvia felt when she sang for someone... a sense of connection...of rightness. I never intended to become a public performer or anything, but it was nice to know I could feel this with someone else besides Katie, though.

“In your house I long to be;

Room by room patiently,

I’ll wait for you there, like a stone.

I’ll wait for you there... alone.”

I paused, then, feeling a wetness against my chest, Devon was crying silently. “Devon? Baby?” I asked concerned. “What’s wrong?” I didn’t think my singing was THAT bad... but maybe I was mistaken...

“That was... beautiful,” she sniffed, wiping her eyes, giving me a smile. “It’s just...such a sad song. Can you maybe sing something...a little more upbeat?”

“I...don’t really do ‘upbeat’,” I said with a frown, “but I guess I could sing something from my sister’s CD collection. Maybe something from Coldplay?” When she nodded, I closed my eyes and began to sing again:

“When she was just a girl

She expected the world

But it flew away from her reach

And the bullets catch in her teeth—

Life goes on

It gets so heavy

The wheel breaks the butterfly

Every tear, a waterfall

In the night, the stormy night

She closed her eyes...

In the night, the stormy night

Away she’d fly...

And dreamed of para- para- paradise

Para- para- paradise

Para- para- paradise

Whoa-oh-oh oh-oooh oh-oh-oh...”

The tears started again, but now that I knew they were happy ones, I continued singing. Afterwards, we made love again, soft, gentle, but full of passion. And afterwards, in bed together, I sang to her again, freely belting out anything she wanted to hear. I even sang a couple of Sylvie’s songs, including ‘Sweat’, though I personally think HER version blows mine out of the water. I was asking Devon whether or not she was a fan of Symphonic Nebula, and if she had their latest album, when the alarm on my desk clock went off.

“Hmm. Seven o’clock,” I said sitting up and stretching. “Man, talk about time flying when you have fun...”

“Seven?!?” Devon yelped, jerking up, bounding out of bed, scrambling for her clothes. “Oh my god, it’s really that late? Shit!” She swiftly slipped on her bra and panties, and reached down for her blouse. “My sister’s class is letting out right now! We’re supposed to meet up with her at the SUB! She’s gonna kill me!”

I chuckled ruefully. “Well, I guess I’d better get you back on campus then,” I said, willing my own clothing to return through the Neuroweave connections in my skin. “And um, you might wanna finish dressing in the car as we go. Unless you’d like to explain to her exactly why we’re late getting back?”

Devon gave me a baleful look. “You’re already on her bad side, you know,” she reminded me, grabbing her shoes and socks, and running barefoot across to the front door. “I’d hate for my big sister to have to kill my boyfriend after being with you for only one day. Now c’mon...and don’t forget to grab your badge thingy in case we run into more trouble!”

“Yes Ma’am! Right away, Ma’am,” I laughed, pocketing my badge, grabbing my car keys, and following her out the door. I guess the submissive streak only extended as far as the bedroom,

“Mr. Grimalde, a Mr. Rodriguez to see you.”

Nigel glanced up from the financial report he’d been studying, a bit surprised at the sudden intrusion. He racked his brain thinking back over his appointments for the day, knowing even before he checked his calendar that he didn’t have any meeting scheduled for this time of the day. And his secretary announcing the interruption over the intercom was doubly concerning; Constance knew he didn’t wish to be disturbed, and should have simply turned the man away. And had it been something urgent, some kind of trouble, she would have alerted him telepathically instead of using the intercom. Which meant two things: the visitor was of some importance, and she’d called in on the intercom because the man was with her there in the outer office listening in.

“Rodriguez, you say?” Nigel replied aloud, even as his mind continued to race. “Constance, correct me if I am wrong, but I don’t recall setting up any appointments with a ‘Mr. Rodriguez’ for this afternoon.” All right, Constance, what’s going on here? Who is this visitor? Did you get a read off of him yet?

“No, Sir,” Constance answered back, “but he was... rather insistent that he speak with you. He said he was... an old friend?” «Yes Sir, Mr. Grimalde. He’s a member of the Syndicate, one of Madame Serpentina’s men. His thoughts about why he is here aren’t as clear and easy to read, but he has one of your... or rather ‘Blackfinger’s’ calling cards, flipping and turning it over and over in his left hand, being obvious without drawing too much attention.»

“I’m trying to run a business, Constance. I don’t have time for talking to ‘old friends’.”Shit! Are the two men I just met with from Kendrick and Towers still in the lobby? Any chance they might have spoken to this Rodriguez character, or gotten a good look at that card?

“Forgive me, Mr. Grimalde, Sir,” Constance replied, sounding suitably contrite, “but he was rather insistent. He said it couldn’t wait.” «Master, I do not believe so. I don’t read anything of suspicion or interest from the two men in the lobby’s minds. They seem more concerned with the deal you just brokered with them and giving the good news to their firm’s shareholders than anything else. I can’t find any echo of recognition that they even noticed the guy.»

Nigel sighed deeply. Serpentina had gone too far this time. Everyone in the criminal underworld knew his rules about meetings, and the very few that knew his true identity KNEW he kept his criminal dealings and his legitimate business completely separate. The two had only intersected once in more than thirty years, and four days ago that indiscretion had come back to bite him in the ass when Eugene Frasier paid him a visit. No! This was not how things were done. Serpentina was pushing him, and he fully intended to push back. First, however, he needed to defuse the potentially explosive situation in his outer office and have Rodriguez moved inside before he had the chance to interact with any more of his clients.

“Oh, very well, Constance. You can send him through. Oh, and be a dear and clear the next hour of my schedule. I’m sure my ‘old friend’ and I have much to talk about.” Activating his security screen, he sat back in his chair waiting as the door opened, and a short, stocky man with greasy black hair and an goatee dressed in a cheap black Italian suit stepped inside. “Ah, Mr. Rodriguez, I presume?” he said once the door closed and locked behind him. “So good to meet you. Please, have a seat. Can I get you anything to drink, ‘old buddy’? Wine? Tea? A ‘brewskie’?”

The man grunted slightly, taking the seat directly across from Nigel. “Alright, look, Grimalde. I’m here on behalf of Madame Ser—”

“I’m well aware of who your employer is,” Nigel snapped cutting him off. “I also have an inkling of why you’re here as well. The lady doesn’t know how to take a hint. I can only hope that YOU do know how to take a hint, Rodriguez...for these walls not only have ears, but eyes as well. I suggest you tread carefully while we converse. After all, your next word could be your last.” As if to emphasize that very point, a number of small red dots appeared on Mr. Rodriguez’ chest, causing his eyes to widen in surprise. Seeing that he now had the man’s full attention, he gestured with his hand, and the red dots vanished.

“First and foremost, this is where I work,” he continued, pacing back and forth like a tiger confronting prey, outwardly cool, with just a bit of heat coming across in his words, “This is where I do my legitimate above-board business. All other kinds of business are handled...elsewhere,” Grimalde stared him down, “through the usual channels,” still staring, turning to pace the other way, “No exceptions.” He scowled, glaring at the man. “It is rather unfortunate that you are stuck as the middleman in all of this, the unlucky go-between. Just know this—I have never put much stock in the old adage about ‘shooting the messenger’ before...” Rodriguez visibly relaxed. “Of course, that was before a messenger showed up on my front doorstep in the middle of my work-week. That was before a messenger implicitly threatened to reveal my secrets. That was before a messenger dared to address me as ‘Grimalde’, as if I was some kinda mook. Do you think I’m a mook, Rodriguez?”

The Latino man nodded, swallowing uncomfortably. “N-n-n-no Sir, Mr. Grimalde. NO! Not at all. I am very sorry. But... my o-orders were very specific on the m-matter. Ser...um, my employer,” he hastily amended remembering the snipers, “she has contacted you multiple times about the deal she wished to make—”

“Yes, she has,” Nigel retorted, his words clipped, again, in obvious annoyance. “And my response to those inquiries remains the same as before. N.O. No. Negative. Not going to happen. No way, Jose. I don’t think I can be much clearer than that.”

Rodriguez sighed. He knew Blackfinger’s reputation all too well. He did not want to anger this man or get on his bad side...but he needed to make his Mistress’ point clear. “Mr. Grimalde, you have a long standing arrangement with the Syn...da...um... our organization. And you’re well aware that our...people, were the ones who gave you the start-up capital you needed to start your business—”

“A loan that I repaid with interest a hundred times over throughout the years. I’m not your lackey or minion, Rodriguez, I’m a colleague. A contemporary. A partner. A free agent who interacts with your...organization...only when it is mutually beneficial. It’s not a question of debt or allegiance. Our relationship doesn’t even rise to the level of a symbiosis,” seeing Rogriguez’s confusion Nigel tried again, “My...organization and yours, they’re not joined at the hip. We come together. We do business. We part company. Everybody’s happy. There’s nothing more to it than that. And, at the moment, it is not to my benefit to aid your employer.” He stood up then, walking over to the window, gesturing outside. “In case you haven’t noticed the obvious, there’s something going on in my city right now. It’s very quickly going to hell in a handbasket, and I can’t be bothered by distractions with you...and your boss...and your organization. My resources—the drug she’s interested in, the information she wants about the Feds, the access she wants in River City Hall, the manpower she has the hubris to think she can demand from me—are staying in house. With me. Am I making myself perfectly clear?”

The man sighed. “Yes, but—”

“There are no ‘buts’ here, Rodriguez,” Nigel insisted, relentless, walking back to his desk. “It’s a simple yes or no question, with only two possible answers. Am I going to give your boss what she wants? No. Will I be changing my mind anytime in the near future? No. Will sending any more of her people here to ask me the same thing again make a difference? Yes, if they choose to come here and disrupt my place of business again. In such a case, I will respond by sending a message of my own...a message in actions, not words, a message that plainly, clearly and concisely expresses my feelings on the matter once and for all!” He slammed a fist down on the desk for emphasis, and despite outweighing Nigel by at least fifty pounds, the man yelped, nearly jumping out of his seat. “Now,DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND ME?”

The man nodded woodenly. “Y-y-y-yes Sir. I-I-I do.”

“Good,” Nigel replied, retaking his seat. “Then we have nothing further to discuss, Rodriguez. Please see yourself out. I still have a number of business concerns to attend to, matters that your unscheduled appearance caused me to postpone. Having to put my business on hold makes me uncomfortable, Rodriguez. You don’t want me to be uncomfortable, now, do you?” The goon shook his head nervously, no longer trusting his voice not to betray him. Nigel opened the folder on his desk, glancing through it. The message was clear: I am done with you. You are beneath my notice. Get out of my sight. Grunting, the heavyset man stood and made his way towards the door.

“No, no, not that way,” Nigel insisted, enjoying the way Rodriguez flinched when he spoke. Nigel pressed a button on his desk, causing a panel on the far corner to open. “You’re an oozing slime ball. I don’t want to take the chance of any of my actual clients running into you. This elevator goes straight to the garage on the first floor. Someone...suitable...will meet you at the bottom to return the, ah, ‘belongings’ we confiscated from you when you first entered.”

Once the man had departed, Nigel sighed softly, tossing away the folder. He did actually need to finish studying the financial accounts on his desk, but the problem of what to do about the Syndicate’s flexing their muscle took precedence, for the moment. As much as he’d like to, he couldn’t simply go after Serpentina herself. The woman was a stone cold bitch, and an uncouth savage, but she had connections and resources to rival his own—and that didn’t even take into account the Syndicate’s global connections spanning coast to coast. No, going after her directly wasn’t an option. At least not yet.

Maybe after Eugene is finished with Duncan we could deal with her together. HA! That’s a pipe dream. Manage your expectations, Nigel. This detente with Frasier isn’t about making a friend or a partner, or even really an ally. He’s made that pretty clear. It’s about cultivating a resource. So, Nigel, cultivate! Build some bridges. Earn some trust. Hopefully that damned fiasco with Patricia didn’t ruin everything. Armor Man and Omega Girl BOTH pissed at me? Over something PERSONAL? No-no-no-no. I don’t need that kind of trouble. And this subtle game with Serpentina was a part of that bridge-building too. The bitch was transparently obsessed with capturing Eugene’s son, Jimmy Frasier. Apparently he had done something to offend her while he was a fugitive last summer, and the crazy cunt had gone off the deep end...again. The best bridge I could possibly build with The elder Mr. Frasier would be to keep Serpentina away from the younger Mr. Frasier. The fact that both Nigel’s passive and active opposition could hurt or hinder Serpentina? Well, that was just Icing on the cake.

He picked up his headset and pushed a button on his phone. “Constance, get Angela on the line...No, I’ll hold...Hi Babe. Look, I had an unscheduled visitor from Utah today...Yep, he was one of hers, called himself a messenger, but I don’t think he’ll stop with a message. I think he’s gonna go after it...No that won’t be necessary, but we do need it somewhere else...Can you get the total supply of both the catalyst AND the agent to the Portland warehouse...Now would be good.” That annoyed him a bit. Angela should know without prompting that this needs to be expedited. But it’s forgivable. She’s pretty distracted with the whole ‘bimbo virus’ thing. “Oh and put drums of saline in their place, with the same markings, of course...What’s that?...Renegotiate?” He smiled. Angela wanted to play. “Well, yes, absolutely...Orgasms are definitely a part of Ms. Yamanohana’s compensation package. Would you like to have them in yours too? You’ll have to give up some of your stock options, But I think we can ‘cum’ up with an equitable trade off....By all means! Let’s start tonight.“

Despite the pleasure, the sheer euphoria, of our first evening together—of two souls each shouting for joy that their perfect complement had been found at last—I found the mood to be distinctively sober when we arrived back on campus. For me, it was mostly the prospect of having to deal with her big sister Deidre again, the thought of which gave me chills. For Devon, however, I could only guess. She was being rather quiet, and from her body language I could tell she was rather anxious. Obviously if I were coming back to meet with an overbearing older sister like her after sneaking off to have sex, I’d be a bit anxious too, but something told me it was more than that. I’d also noticed her shuddering and staring off into space at least twice... something I used to do whenever I received a vision of the future. But when I’d asked her both times, she’d insisted they weren’t visions, or anything of the kind, that she was just woolgathering.

“It wasn’t a vision, Jimmy,” she insisted, shaking her head. “I told you, I’m not a Super. I don’t have any special powers at all. I’m just a little...distracted, that’s all.” She glanced at me, fluttering her eyes. “After all, I just met the quite literal ‘man of my dreams’ in the flesh for the first time, and had my first ever sexual experience less than an hour ago. Is it a wonder I’m a little brain fried right now? It’s amazing that I can even speak, well except maybe to gape and say, ‘Wow.’”

I smiled. All kidding (and ego fluffing) aside, she DID have a point there. Parking Jenny in an empty parking space, I glanced back behind me, frowning slightly as a silver Nissan driving slowly by, speeding up to park a few spaces away. I was probably a little brain fried as well, because I could have sworn the car had been following me around most of the day. Which was silly, and paranoid. There was no one out to get me, and there were only a few THOUSAND silver Nissans floating around this city. Forcing my thoughts back onto the here and now, Dev and I made our way back towards the SUB.

“Hmph! There you are!” Deidre scowled as we met her at her table. Her bitchy blonde friend from before sat at her side, scowling up at me again, looking me over once more before rolling her eyes. “I was just asking Stacy if she thought I should contact Campus Police, or skip straight to the REAL police and the FBI!” Turning her attention to Devon she asked, “And you, Dev. What the hell? You forgot how to use a cell phone or something? We’ve been here half an hour waiting!” She shook her head. “The guy’s basically a stranger. For all I knew he could have taken you back to his place, tied you to the bed, and raped you!”

Coloring deeply, she glanced away briefly. “Ah, I, um... sorry, I was just... forgot to charge my phone before I left,” she mumbled, which caused Deidre’s frown to deepen.

“It’s totally my fault,” I said, bravely trying to draw her attention. “we lost track of the time. And there was an incident earlier... with campus police—” Devon gasped, glancing up at me, shaking her head imperceptibly, causing me to amend the story slightly on the fly “—a mugging of some kind. They had the area all cordoned off, and backed up traffic on the other side of the campus. Made just getting out at all a bit of a pain.”

“Yeah,” Stacy chirped up, suddenly, adding in her two cents worth. “I heard about that. Some girl got her purse snatched, and the guy that took it got shot in the leg for the trouble!”

I winced slightly at the reminder. Damn, guess I need to practice a bit more at gauging my strength. And I’m really happy I didn’t try for a head shot.

The conversation thankfully shifted gears at this point, as the girls began chatting about recent events, on campus and off, taking the focus and pressure off Devon and I. I kind of squirmed for a moment when they mentioned the foiled terrorist attack the week before, and the ‘mysterious hero’ that saved the city from a nuclear explosion. When Deidre stated, in a star struck, almost blissful tone, that she thought the costumed Super shown on the news was ‘totally hawt’ I nearly choked to death on my soda.

“So, like, what about YOU, Jamie?” Deidre said, glaring at me out of the blue. “You’re from River City, right? Do you know that Darklight guy? Ever seen him around?”

“Er, it’s ‘Jimmy’, actually... and, yeah, I’m seen him a few times,” I replied with a straight face. “Why? Would you like me to get his autograph for you?”

Her face brightened instantly at the idea, but she shook her head, blushing, trying to play it cool. “Naw. Don’t need to go to the effort on my account. Was just wondering if you’d met him before, that’s all.” She shrugged.

Devon burst out giggling. “Oh, Dee, you’re not fooling anyone. If you ask, I’m sure Jimmy could get you his autograph.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, I think I could manage it with no problem,” I added. “I know him pretty well.”

Deidre scowled, not sure if we were serious or just messing with her. “Excuse me, I need to use the bathroom,” Devon said with a grin, caressing my cheek as she walked by. I grinned stupidly at the contact, giddily happy that she was here. I was honestly having a good time socializing for change, something I rarely did even with my own family. It was really true, I guess. Devon was the missing piece of my soul that I’d been yearning for all my life. Even Deidre’s reticence towards me paled in comparison to knowing Devon was going to be with me now for the rest of my life. Somehow...everything just seemed a little bit brighter.

Devon was reaching for paper towels to dry her hands, when a sharp pain struck her from behind. She gasped, clutching at the back of her neck, whirling around to find a tall blonde woman staring at her, a strange looking gun clutched tightly in her hand. Her eyes widened in shock—she was seeing the very image she’d seen earlier in the car ride back on campus! She opened her mouth to speak, but the pain she’d felt in the back of her skull suddenly exploded outwards, filling her entire brain, as if tiny metal drills were carving their way through her mind, hollowing it out, removing everything in its path. She shuddered slightly, frozen in place, eyes wide in panic. She glanced towards the door, and her love, Jimmy, just a few feet away. So close...and yet so far away.

And then...suddenly, the pain faded, dropping away completely, leaving behind a piercing coolness, like ice, covering her mind. Her lids drooped, and her head lolled slightly to the side for a moment, before snapping back up again. New thoughts and feelings began flooding into the hollowed out places in her mind, overriding everything there. Information and data streamed seamlessly into her consciousness, and with a sudden jolt, she became aware of her purpose.

“Girl, tell me your name,” the woman, her Controller, demanded.

“Devon McKinley,” she replied stiffly, as new data unspooled within her mind. Her Controller...Stephanie. Dr. Stephanie Brooks. Yes...on a mission for her...THEIR Master. And her purpose was to aid Stephanie in any was required.

“Very good, Devon,” Stephanie replied, placing the now empty dart gun into the trash can. “You have all the information you need. Our objective is simple. You will insinuate yourself into the target’s good graces. You will continue to stay close to him, lull him into a false sense of security. You will act exactly like yourself before I implanted your chip.” Taking out a small, heavy, metallic tube shaped gun, she handed it to Devon. “And then, when the time is right, you will use this plasma pistol to immobilize, incapacitate, and then eliminate the target.” She tilted her head to the side. “Do you understand your orders, Devon?”

Devon nodded stiffly, a plastic smile etched in her face. “Yes, Mistress. I will eliminate the target, I will kill...Jimmy Fraser.”