The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The old man sat up as the sound of footsteps approached him. A soft whimper escaped his lips before he could prevent it, betraying his position. He held his breath, hoping against hope that he blended in enough with the old newspapers, dirt, and trash that made up his bed to escape notice, but all too soon the bright sweep of a flashlight centered directly on him. He blinked, his eyes dazzled, and tried to shrink back even more into his sanctuary of garbage, whimpering again.

“Henry? Henry Turlington?” a female voice asked dubiously. The old man merely blinked, wanting nothing more than to be left alone.

“Oh my God! Phew! This stench is sickening,” a male voice at the woman’s side spoke up, shaking his silhouetted head. “This can’t be him. That can’t be the right guy.” His voice muted slightly, no doubt from the man pinching his nose closed. “Please tell me that isn’t the guy we’re looking for.”

A blue thin line stretched out, illuminating Henry’s forehead before slowly sweeping down his body, followed by a beep. “The scanner confirms it,” the female said reluctantly. “DNA match 99.979%. And he looks about the right age, he’d be about fifty-two now. It’s him.”

“Wonderful,” the man said in disgust. “Well fine. Guess we might as well get this over with, then. Sir, my name is... hey! Hey! Wait a minute!” he yelled as the old man leaped to his feet, running as fast as he could towards the other end of the alleyway. “Shit! C’mon Tricia, we can’t lose him now!”

The old man gasped, wheezing for breath, as he made his way through the darkened streets, not even daring to glance back behind him. Years of hard living on the street and lack of proper nutrition left him in very bad shape; only panic and fear allowed him to sprint as fast as he was. He had no idea who the two people were, what they wanted, or why they were looking for him, but he knew he had to get away. Had to get as far away from them as possible. At the corner, he turned, heading deeper into Oldtown, towards the section of abandoned derelict buildings, hoping he could reach the old mill near the warehouse section before they caught him. There were plenty of hidey-holes there, and the few times the police had chased him, he’d been able to lose them inside the broken down old relic.

“Sir! Stop! Stop running!” the woman’s voice called out from behind him. “We’re not going to hurt you! We’ve been looking for you... to help you! To bring you back home!”

Fat chance, he thought dimly, feeling his legs began to burn, his stomach beginning to cramp up. Strangers never help. They only hurt you, throw things or spit on you, laugh at you, or call the police on you. Not going to let you... get me.

“Stop running, goddammit!” the man’s voice yelled, sounding even closed—too close. “Can’t believe you’re making us fucking chase you!”

No! They’re too fast! Gotta make it... gotta make it. So close. So close now... just a few more yards. Please God, let me make it—

A sudden burst of energy cascaded over the running man, enveloping him completely. Muscles went limp, and he fell face first into the rough pavement. Despite the rough fall, and the coppery taste in his mouth that he recognized as blood, he felt no pain. Seconds later, soft strong hands turned him over, rolling him onto his back, and the two strangers peered down at him.

“You fucking nimrod! Look at him! He’d injured!” the woman said angrily.

“Well what did you WANT me to do, Tricia?” the man replied huffily. “He was about to duck inside that old warehouse. With all the rusty metal and concrete in that place our scanners would have been next to useless. And I don’t know about you, but spending the rest of the night, here, in this neighborhood, searching for ‘Stinky the Wonder Bum’ isn’t my idea of a good time!”

Tricia glared at him, her expression cold. “Watch your mouth, Derrick, and show some fucking respect. In just a few days, you might just find yourself sitting on some street corner, dressed in rags, begging this ‘bum’ for spare change. He’s a victim, Derrick... and what happened to HIM could just as easily happen to you or me.”

Suitably chastised, Derrick lifted the unresisting man up over his shoulder. “Let’s just get back to the mansion. We’ve done our part. Mistress Raina can take it from there, once we’re back.”

The old man let out another whimper as he felt himself carried back towards the alleyway. He longed to cry out, to yell, to fight, to struggle in some kind of way... anything but let himself be carted away like a sack of potatoes. Unfortunately, whatever they’d used to stop him from getting away was still in effect, and the most he could do was mewl softly like a newborn kitten.

The mansion was simply put the biggest, grandest, most expensive looking thing the old man had ever laid eyes on. He was filled with equal parts awe and fear—awe at the richly decorated rooms, perfectly maintained lawn, picturesque fountains and the obvious wealth of the owners, and fear at what someone so wealthy and powerful would want with him. Money equaled power, and power was something to be feared. He’d seen many friends over the years lured away with sweet words and offers of money, food, and a better life from strangers, seeming wanting to help... only to find they’d returned to their street corners, days or weeks later, badly scarred and beaten, much abused, their spirits broken. He had learned that lesson early on, and though his scars had long ago healed, the lesson remained deeply rooted in his mind: Trust no one, especially powerful wealthy people who offered to ‘help’ you.

His two companions... or captors, as he chose to think of them, had tried to engage him in conversation on the long trip out to the country. Once he’d discovered the renewed use of his body, he’d replied in the most direct way he knew—by unlocking the door and attempting to bail out. They’d caught him, of course, grabbing his arms before he could make good his attempted escape, no doubt saving him from serious injury from an impact at the speed they were traveling. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t fooled. Whatever the reason they wanted him healthy and whole, he knew it wasn’t for HIS benefit. They tried again, unsuccessfully, to engage him in conversation, but he responded only with stony silence. They knew that all he wanted was to be left alone, to be allowed to return back to his alley in peace. He’d made that more than clear, and besides that, he had nothing to say to them.

“Is that him?”

Lured out of his musing by a soft feminine voice, the old man glanced over and up. A beautiful blonde woman, looking in her early thirties, dressed only in a light translucent shift stared down at him from the top of a set of ballroom stairs. Soft slippered feet sprinted quickly down the stairs, excitement evident on her face as she drew near, causing the man to jerk back in alarm. The woman paused, the smile leaving her face as she registered the alarm on his face. “It’s okay,” she said softly. “I promise I won’t hurt you.” Turning to the man and woman, she asked, “Is it really HIM? Are you sure?”

The duo sank immediately to their knees. Tricia nodded, holding out her scanner. “Yes Mistress. I’m sure of it. The scanner showed a 99.79% DNA match with the sample you gave us. There can’t be any doubt.”

“And you would know better than anyone, Mistress,” Derrick added humbly, staring down at the floor.

Raina sighed softly, biting her lip. She peered deep into the old man’s face, seeking some kind of recognition, then sighed. “I don’t know. It’s been so long, now... more than ten years. He looks and acts so... so different.”

“Begging your pardon, Mistress,” Tricia said hesitantly, “but you knew there would be changes. He’s been gone more than a decade... living on the street, eating out of garbage cans—” Seeing the expression on her face, she hastily added, “I mean no disrespect! I only mean to point on that that kind of life is hard... and bound to leave its mark on a person. Even if you are able to undo what Talia did to his mind... he may never truly be the man you remember.”

Raina sighed, turning away, fighting to get her emotions under control. A large part of her hated Tricia for speaking aloud what she’d been fearing in her own heart since she’d seen initial his reaction to her. She’d known what to expect after so many years... she’d known. Yet and still, a small part of her had entertained a childish fantasy of their reunion, that he’d somehow, in some way recognize her, greet and welcome her with open arms, pull her in tight, and tell her how much he’d missed her, just as much as she had missed HIM every single day of the past decade. Small, childish, it had remained nonetheless, and reality cruelly dashing that hope to oblivion had hurt her more than she cared to show. Taking a deep breath, stilling the pains within her heart, she turned back to her two loyal servants.

“Alright. He’s back, and that’s all that truly matters. Tricia, alert the rest of the staff and have him prepared. I want him bathed, scrubbed clean, given fresh clean clothing to wear, and fed the very best meal of his life. I want all of the servants ready to serve his slightest whim should he ask for it, and the Master bedroom prepared for him to sleep in when he’s ready. Derrick, I want you to alert Dr. Simon to get the equipment ready, and to send a medical team her to check him over, and give him whatever medical treatment he might need. Stress to her that when they’re done I don’t want him to have so much as a case of the sniffles. Do you both understand?”

“Yes, Mistress,” they both answered in unison.

“Good.” She sighed, again looking longingly at the man standing warily before her. “In the meantime, I shall give our... visitor here, a tour of the mansion.” Moving slowly and carefully, seemingly oblivious to the smell and filth, she reached out and took his hand. “Please. Come with me.”

The old man bristled, wanting to distrust this woman, needing to distance himself from her as much as possible, but something about her... something in her eyes, in her smile, touched him. Despite his better judgment, he decided to go along with her, at least for the moment. Wary and on guard, he allowed her to lead him further into the mansion.

Watching them leave together, Derrick let out a soft sigh. “Amazing,” he said softly. “Absolutely fucking amazing. In all the time I’ve been here, I’ve never seen Mistress that way. Never. I mean... I’ll admit it, I was a bit of a hard case before I found my proper place here... but after a week of training, she could make me piss myself with a single harsh look. It’s hard to grasp the idea that that... that...” he gestured helplessly after them, “that THAT old man could possibly be the one she’s been searching for all these years. I mean... he seems so... so...”

“Ordinary,” Tricia finished, nodding slightly. “I know. It’s kind of hard to wrap my head around the idea myself. Still, it was Mistress’ will that we find him and bring him here. If this is what she needs to be happy, then so be it.” She sighed softly, as she turned to follow through with her given duties. “I’d do anything to make her smile the way she just did when she first saw him from upstairs.”

Raina walked slowly, gently, trying not to alarm her guest. “This is the grand ballroom. A long time ago, we used to have parties in here. We’d have people from all over entertaining here, dancing, singing, laughing and playing...” She sighed wistfully. “Happier times, back then. The slaves of the house were even permitted to attend, to relax the line between Master and slaves just a bit.”

The man nodded, taking in the room. Large, oval shaped, with marble floors, and a huge vaulted ceiling complete with chandelier, it seemed like something out of a Disney fairy tale. Distracted from his paranoia for the moment, he found himself wondering what it would have been like to attend one of those parties. He closed his eyes, and sighed, listening to a half-remembered tune, a long-forgotten musical ditty that he’d heard from somewhere in his long-forgotten past. For a moment, he saw an flash, an image of a girl very like his hostess, only younger, smaller, slimmer, dressed in an ivory evening gown, smiling demurely, her eyes lowered to the floor as she curtsied... but then it faded. He opened his eyes, frowning slightly. The image had been brief, but unsettling.

The past is the past, he thought to himself, as he had many times before. Dead, gone and buried. It’s best that it stay that way.

“Through here is the library,” she said, continuing on, leading him back down the hallway. She opened the door, and gestured for him to look inside. Nearly as huge as the ballroom, the entire room were filled with books, lining every wall from ceiling to floor. Raina smiled. “A bit antiquated in this day and time, I’ll admit. Most people are more familiar with online novels that the actual printed word. Still, my Ma...” she shook her head. “The owner of this house was always a bit of a romantic at heart, and had something of a soft spot for things other people thought worthless.”

The old man nodded idly, glancing around the room. It made his head throb slightly, like the beginnings of a headache forming. He was so out of practice reading, he doubted seriously that he could have made it through one page in any of the books, let along the entire library. Despite the girl’s attempt to make him feel at ease and welcome, and despite the fact that she’d done nothing the slightest bit threatening, he found himself starting to feel anxious.

Sensing something of his anxiety, Raina moved on. “Through here we have the dining room, where, of course, we dine. Just through that small doorway on the side is the kitchen, where Chef is currently making something very special for you.” The man nodded, frowning, staring at the heavy oak table in the center of the dining room. It was easily large enough to seat fifty people comfortably without them bumping elbows. A very enticing smell wafted into the room as he neared the kitchen doors, and he felt his stomach clench. The trip out of the city had taken several hours of travel, and he hadn’t eaten anything the day before. Raina laughed softly, a gentle tinkling sound. “Don’t worry. Dinner will be served very soon. By the time you’re finished cleaning up, it should be ready.”

The old man grunted. Cleaning up? Fine. As far as he was concerned, he was perfectly fine the way he was, but if his strange lovely young host insisted on him taking a bath, then so be it. As long as he got to taste whatever smelled so good inside the kitchen, he’d walk barefoot over glass.

“This is what I’ve been wanting to show you,” Raina said, standing just outside a door at the far end of the room. “Please... come have a look inside here.”

Suspicious now, back on guard again, he carefully poked his head inside the room. His brow raised in surprise as he found himself in a gallery of some kind. Numerous oil paintings adorned the walls, some of landscapes, some of people. Curious, he glanced over the different portraits, admiring the work. He glanced at Raina, but she stood back at the door, merely watching him, expectantly. Shrugging, he circled around the room, looking over each painting, not really sure what the point was... until he reached the far wall and froze in midstep.

In the very center was a huge portrait of a very handsome dark haired man. He stood slightly in profile, as if looking at something just a little off shoulder of the viewer. He wore a red velvet smoking jacket over a black Italian suit, and held a pipe in his off hand. He was smiling, a kind smile full of cheer, and yet at the same time his face seemed very serious, the kind of face that commanded respect and expected it almost as matter of fact. Most disturbing, however, were the eyes. Dark brown, they seemed to peer straight through you, as if he could see into a person’s soul. The old man shuddered slightly, the feeling of anxiety within him growing.

“This is the Master... of the house,” Raina said softly, moving up alongside him. Her expression was sad yet reverent. “A long time ago, he left us. It was his choice, though at the time he’d said he had no choice whatsoever. Someone he cared for, more than he ever let show, was in danger. A young girl had been taken, kidnapped by a rival of his, and despite all of his wealth and influence, he was unable to rescue her. So... he did the only thing he could do. He went to the kidnapper and offered her an exchange. He offered himself for her freedom.” Raina’s voice caught, and when the old man glanced at her face, there were tears in her eyes. “’A life for a life’, he’d said. Knowing full well what the woman was capable of, knowing full well what his fate would be, still he traded himself for the girl he cared for... that he... loved.”

Dotting at her eyes, taking a moment to compose herself, Raina continued. “He was never heard from again. The kidnapper, a vile despicable temptress named Talia, double-crossed him. She did, indeed free the girl as promised, but the moment she had the man in her power she swept in like a vulture. She took all of the man’s servants and wealth for her own, to use and discard at her whim. She kept the man with her just long enough to learn what she had done with his beloved servants before casting him away as well. Shortly thereafter, Talia met her fate at the hands on the servant she’d freed, but all too late. The damage was done, and the girl’s beloved Master was gone.”

The old man’s heart was beating like a kettle drum within his chest. The girl’s words stirred something within him, something dark and dangerous. Something from his past. Anxiety turned to fear, digging its razor sharp talons within his spine. The man in the portrait seemed to glare at him now, mocking him, and he turned away, unable to bear the sight. “No,” he managed weakly, speaking for the first time since he’d arrived at the house. “No! No! NO! NO! NOOOOOOOO!”

“Please!” Raina said, taking his arm, pulling him back out of the room. Her touch helped; the rising panic subsided, and the old man shuddered only slightly, his heart rate slowing again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I... this was too soon.” She stared down at her feet, unable to meet his gaze, which only made him feel worse. He didn’t know why she’d brought him there in the first place, but something inside told him it wasn’t to frighten him.

It’s not your fault, lady, he thought dismally. It’s me. I... I don’t belong here. This isn’t... where I belong.

“Mistress?”

A young slim brunette dressed in the black and white silken finery of a French maid appeared at the door. She bowed low. “Mistress, the bath is ready. Dinner will be ready momentarily.”

Raina nodded. “Very good, Evette. Please show our guest to the bathing chambers.”

The maid bowed again, stepping forward. “If Sir will follow me?” she said, gesturing to the hallway on the right. Nodding mutely, the old man followed along. Raina watched them depart for a long moment before sighing heavily.

This is all so hard. I know... it’s been such a long time coming, and I thought I’d be ready. That time would have prepared me to see Him this way... but it’s so hard. I need this to work. I NEED Him, back the way He was. I... I need Him.

Bath time was definitely unusual. Logically, the old man knew he’d bathed before, multiple times in his life, even though it had been two years since his last one. He knew that the washing habits of homeless people differed greatly from those who lived in traditional homes, with regular access to soap and water. Even with the dim recollections of his past, he had memories of showering, and using a bath tub before, when he was younger.

So when he entered the bathing chamber to find twelve beautiful young naked girls standing waist deep in what appeared to be a small miniature swimming pool filled with white sudsy foam, his first thought was simply, This can’t be normal.

When the dozen lovely ladies descended upon him en masse to remove his clothes, he thought, that normal or not, this way of taking a bath had some definite advantages. Before he even knew what was going on, he found himself completely naked, waist deep in the pool, being fondled and caressed by a dozen hands. Years of scorn and ridicule living on the streets had rendered him incapable of feeling self-conscious. Or so he’d thought, until he found himself responding to the lovely nymphs touches. His skin, now clear of dirt and grime, glowed a rosy red that had nothing to do with the heat of the water.

“Ooooh!” one of the girls, a lightly freckled redhead exclaimed as she discovered his predicament. “It looks like we’re doing a good job here, girls. He’s definitely enjoying the attention.”

A chorus of soft giggles erupted, and his blush deepened. “Oh, don’t be embarrassed, Sir,” a beautiful dark haired girl whispered from behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist, pressing her wet naked breasts into his back. “We are here to serve you. Anything you want, feel free to ask.”

“Yes, please ask,” another girl, a young blonde said eagerly, slipping around to wash his chest with a large soft sponge. Dropping the sponge, she began stroking and caressing his bare chest with her fingers instead. “It’s been such a long time since we’ve had someone to properly serve.”

Anxiety and fear washed over the old man at the offer. It didn’t seem right, somehow... not appropriate, despite what his loins were telling him. Closing his eyes, steeling up his willpower, he endured the washing, and the girls’ playful touches, until finally the young maid from before returned.

“That’s enough, girls. Dry him and clothed him quickly. Dinner is about to be served, and the Mistress will want him ready before the first tray arrives.”

Reluctantly, the bathing beauties released him, bringing him to the dressing area. Three girls quickly dried him while another carefully and skillfully trimmed his hair, hacking down his wild mane of hair into a more normal appearance, and trimming his facial hair into a rather stylish beard. By the time she was done, the others had returned with a set of comfortable stylish clothes: a white polo shirt, black pants, a pair of black silk boxers, white socks, and a pair of black patent leather shoes. Casual wear, but the fine cut of the cloth made the old man feel as if he were getting dressed for a fancy dress ball. The girls oohed and ahhed, fawning over his appearance, until, finally, curious, he turned and walked to the great mirror on the far wall to have a look at himself.

A gasp of shock escaped his lips as he saw his reflection. The man staring back at him was a complete stranger, and at the same time intimately familiar. It was a version of himself he hadn’t seen in years, a bit older, wearing different clothes, but still recognizably HIM. Unfamiliar thoughts rand through his mind, feelings, thoughts and images that faded as soon as they formed. His head swam.

“Sir?” the maid said, appearing at his side, breaking him out of his fugue. “Dinner is ready. Please follow me to the dining room.”

Nodding numbly, he followed her through the confusing maze of hallways and rooms back to the dining room. The table, which he’d accurately figured would comfortably hold fifty persons was nearly full, with several men and women seated. As he stood watching, the twelve girls that had tended to him in the bath entered, now fully dressed, taking their places in the remaining chairs. In fact, it seemed every chair at the table was occupied, except for the one just to the left of the chair at the table’s head, where Raina sat, waiting. Feeling anxious and self-conscious again, he nevertheless made his way across the room, heading for the last unoccupied chair. He moved to sit down when Raina’s hand grasped his shoulder.

“No,” she said simply, rising from her seat. Moving gracefully, she slid around behind him, gesturing to the head seat. The old man looked at her quizzically, and she nodded. “It’s only fitting,” she replied, lowering her eyes to her feet once more.

The rest of the diners were obviously shocked by this sudden turn of events. After a moment’s hesitation, they likewise rose to their feet, taking their cue from Raina as always. Blushing like a tomato under their scrutiny, and guessing they were all now waiting on him, the old man quickly sat down in the head chair. Once he was seated, Raina sat down gracefully, pulling her chair up to the table. As one, the rest of the room sat down as well.

Raina clapped her hands together twice, and the kitchen door opened. A statuesque middle-aged woman with long black hair strode forth, pushing a large food cart. Moving straight to the head of the table, she paused, gasping, covering her mouth with her hand. She looked at her Mistress, but Raina shook her head. Somewhat shaken, she nevertheless began serving food, setting several trays before their very hungry guest. Taking a step back, she bowed to the waist.

“Tonight, for your dining pleasure,” the chef said humbly, “I have prepared my most fantastic meal to date. I hope that you will find it to your liking.”

The old man nodded, salivating at the smells coming from the covered containers. Literally starving, bypassing pomp and circumstance, he grabbed a tray, removed its lid, and dove into the meal with gusto with his hands, his silverware untouched. The others watched for a moment, then Raina nodded, and Chef began serving the rest of those assembled. Conversation began to flow then, the diners chatting amicably among themselves as routine, pausing for a moment when the old man let out a loud belch before continuing.

“I trust that you enjoyed your meal?” Raina asked, smiling later as she led the man to the upstairs part of the mansion.

The old man nodded sleepily. Indeed, everything had been perfect. Every bit, every sip, every drink, every taste had awakened a part of his palette he’d thought long gone. The thought occurred to him vaguely that he must have once been a connoisseur of fine foods, but with his belly pleasantly full for the first time in months, his thoughts quickly turned to other matters, mainly rest and sleep.

“I’ve had the Master bedroom prepared for you,” Raina said after a while, stopping before a large wooden door at the hallway’s end. “Fresh sheets and pillows, and any amenities you could possibly need have been provided. And if there is anything else you might need, simply press the small red button on the intercom system beside the bed or on the walls, and call out, and a servant will be there immediately.” She opened the door, then stepped back. “Dr. Simon will be by in the morning to perform her physical examination... to make sure you’re healthy.” She turned away, not meeting his eyes. “Once that’s done... I... I need for you...” She sighed deeply. “There’s a machine that the doctor has been working on for the past few years that we believe may... help you... remember.”

The old man turned then, looking at her. “I promise you, it won’t hurt you,” Raina continued, still unable to meet his gaze. “It’s just... I need you back!” she blurted out suddenly. She finally met his gaze. “Henry... Master. I need you back. WE need you back. All of us.” The words, finally unleashed, came tumbling out in a torrent. “It’s been so hard all these years without you... so hard. I’ve tried my best to keep my promise to you, to look after everyone and keep everyone safe... to keep us together. To keep everyone’s spirits up until you returned to us. But it’s been so hard. And... and knowing it was all my fault...” The old man staggered back in shock. It made sense to him now. She thought he was the man from the portrait downstairs in the gallery! Fear seized him in its grip, making it hard to breathe. She thought he was the man from the portrait. But... he wasn’t. He was just a bum, just an ordinary man who’d lost his wife, his job and his home years ago and survived by living in the streets. She was a nice woman, a beautiful and kind woman, but she was a stranger to him. His past was life of self-destruction and failure, best forgotten and ignored, but he remembered enough of it, enough to know that he wasn’t the man this girl had been searching for.

What could he do? She wanted to badly to believe he was her missing ‘Master’ that she’d gone to such lengths to bring him here. What would she do if she learned the truth? The fear gnawed at him even more. He knew just how quickly the kind people offering to help you could change to mean uncaring brutes once you failed to live up to their expectations. The more money a person had, the more power they had over you, and from the look of things, if he angered this woman, she could quite easily make him suffer slowly and painfully before she decided to get rid of him. No, he couldn’t tell her the truth.

Raina, winding down, turned back to face him, and saw the fearful expression on his face. She bowed her head in shame. “I’m sorry. Please... forgive me for burdening you with my problems. I was weak... and it doesn’t matter anyway. In just another day, Dr, Simon will be here, and she will help your memories to return. Then... then everything will be as it once was. Everything will be better again, after tomorrow.” Bowing deep at the waist, she managed a wan smile. “Have a good night. I will see you in the morning.”

The old man nodded again, slipping quickly inside the room, closing the door behind him. taking several steadying breaths, he considered his current predicament. The doctor was set to arrive in the morning to do... something to him. To force him to remember a past that wasn’t his. And once that failed, then what? The possibilities made him shudder. No... he couldn’t stay. He needed to get out of here before then. He needed to escape.

How was the question. He was in a mansion, a thirty-acre property full of servants and guards, several hours away from the alleyway in the city he called home. Simply getting out of the house undetected would be an accomplishment; making all the way back to his city would be nothing short of a miracle.

And yet... what choice do I have? I can’t be what this girl wants me to be. I can’t make all of her problems, all of her pain, just go away. No, I need to go back to where I belong. His mind made up, the old man began searching through the richly furnished bedroom for something that might help him.

Tricia sighed softly to herself as she finished brushing out her hair. A deep knot of worry sat in the middle of her stomach, and no amount of positive thinking could dislodge it. Since Raina had recruited her, indoctrinating her to help replace some of the girls still missing from the incident twelve years ago, she’d served her beloved Mistress gleefully and happily. No greater joy existed for her than knowing she had pleased Mistress Raina, that through some word or deed she had caused Her some measure of happiness. For more than five years, she and her partner Derrick had searched fruitlessly for Raina’s beloved Master, chasing phantom leads, following trails gone cold years before, all in the forlorn hope of find the one person in all of the world that could truly bring her happiness.

But is it all just a pipe dream? she wondered. The scanner showed a 99% match. And when you wipe away all the dirt and grime, and dress him up a bit, he DOES look a lot like the Master’s portrait. Surely... it has to be Him. I know its Him this time.

The doubt in the back of her mind persisted, however. Three years ago she’d been sure as well. They’d found a man in a hospital recovery ward that was the spitting image of Raina’s missing Master. The scanner had given him a DNA match of 78.92%, extremely close considering, not perfect, but acceptable considering that nature of his injury and the bio-engineered grafts the hospital had used to repair the damage. The man suffered from a concussion among other things, and his long term memory was full of holes. Thinking him ‘The One’ they’d contacted Mistress, and brought him straight away to the mansion. Dr. Simon had been brought in to help speed up his recovery, and recover he did. Seeing the amount of wealth for the taking, the man tried to assume the role of Henry Turlington, claiming any discrepancies were due to his faulty memory.

All too soon, however, the truth came out. A detailed examination showed that he was a fake, merely the recipient of a recent blood transfusion from the real Henry, who had no doubt given blood to make a little extra money. Faced with the truth, the man had threatened to expose them all unless he was paid an exorbitant amount of money. He received his due, alright—a complete mind wipe, courtesy of the good Dr. Simon. Raina, devastated by the charade, had been inconsolable for weeks, barely eating or drinking anything, and never even leaving her room. In the end, only her unshakable resolve to keep her promise to her Master to look after and care for all of the others broke her out of her despair.

And nod... now I could be setting her up for the same disappointment all over again, she thought dismally. No. It has to work this time. He HAS to the One! I can’t be responsible for Her pain... not again.

A sound outside her window broke through her concentration. Glancing to the side, she gasped in shock as a black clad figure swept past her window before disappearing from sight. She ran to the window, her hand immediately grabbing up her Tranq as a reflex as she went. Scanning the grounds below, searching, she finally spotted him sprinting across the flower bed. She reached out to hit the alarm button, but stopped as she recognized the shuffling gate. Groaning in exasperation, she left the room, heading downstairs, intending to catch up with the ‘Master’ of the house before he hurt himself trying to scale the far wall.

The old man grunted, pulling with all of his strength, trying to bring himself over the edge of the wall. His shirt and pants were already torn from several previous attempts, but he refused to give up until he made it over. Panting, dangling from the wall by his fingertips, he prepared to try again when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

“You know, you’d probably have an easier time just going through the locked gate,” Tricia quipped. “You’re just about thin enough to slide through the bars.”

Surprised, the old man released his grip and fell to the ground in a crumple. Panting, he looked up into the smug face of one of his captors. He sighed, shaking his head. “Just... just let me go. I don’t belong here. I need to go home.”

Tricia lofted an eyebrow. “Well, well. And here I thought you were mute or something.” She reached down and pulled him back to his feet. “C’mon. Let’s go back to the house. Everything is going to be better in the morning after you’ve had a good night’s sleep.”

The man shook his head. “No. I’m not... not going back. I need to get out of here. I don’t... I don’t fit in here!”

Eyes narrowed, Tricia pulled her weapon free, and gestured with it. “Sorry, old man. If it were up to me, you could walk right out of here, but Mistress Raina wants you here, so here is where you’re going to stay.” She put her finger on the trigger. “If you don’t come along nicely, I’ll have to make you.”

Sizing her up, licking his lips, he considered. “I’m not the person she thinks I am. I’m not the man in that painting.”

Tricia sighed deeply, lowering the gun. “I kind of figured as much. I never met Him myself... but if He’s half the man Mistress made Him out to be, I can’t believe that He’d end up like YOU... eating out of dumpsters and sleeping in garbage.”

He took a step towards her. “Then... you’ll let me go then?”

Tricia shook her head. “No. Whether or not you’re the man from the portrait, I can’t let you leave. The only thing that would hurt Her more than the disappointment of having you turn out not to be Him... would be the despair She would feel if you left without Her knowing one way or the other. And I’ll be damned if I hurt my beloved Mistress anymore than necessary—”

Taking advantage of the distraction, the old man rushed her, grabbing for the weapon. He remembered it only too well, the strange pistol they’d shot him with when he’d run before back in the city. In a fair fight, he was pretty sure he’d lose, but he figured that with her momentary distraction he at least had a fifty-fifty chance of taking it from her before she could regroup and overpower him.

“Let... go... dammit!” she grunted, trying to pry his fingers off the weapon, using one hand and her arm to hold onto it. She felt his fingers sliding away, his grip loosening... and then gaped in shock as a pulse of blue light enveloped her.

The old man fell back, stunned from fear but otherwise okay. At the last second, he’d grabbed at the small indention on the underside for leverage, not knowing it was the trigger. Timidly, he stood there, expecting her to yell, to scream, perhaps even to turn and fire on him in retaliation, but as the moments went by, he realized that she was doing none of those things because she was currently incapable of doing them. Moving cautiously, he waved a hand in front of her face. She blinked, then blinked again, but otherwise remained absolutely still. He sighed softly, considering his options.

“Well... this doesn’t help me at all,” he said after a long moment. “I wish you could have at least told me the code to open the gate before you got zapped. It would make things much easier if you could tell me.”

“Two. Seven. Nine. Three. One.” Tricia said softly, staring straight ahead. The old man blinked, then frowned.

“What did you say?”

“Two. Seven. Nine. Three. One. The code to the door.”

The man considered. “How is it that you can talk? When I was stunned, I couldn’t say a word. The only thing I could move was my eyes.”

“That was the stun setting,” Tricia replied dully. “The weapon was set to ‘Compliance’ mode when it discharged. I am not paralyzed; instead, I have been rendered completely compliant to your will. I will not act or move unless directed to.”

“I... see.” The man thought quickly. Perhaps he’d finally gotten a lucky break after all. With his captor under his control, he didn’t have to worry about trying to walk or hitch a ride back into the city. He could order her to take him back and drop him off where they’d found him. Of course, it had been a long ride, and he wasn’t sure how long the effect would last. Perhaps he could just drive himself... no. He didn’t have a license, and he hadn’t driven in years. He doubted he could remember well enough to avoid crashing or getting pulled over.

Finally, deciding on the only course left to him, he had the girl drive him to the closest bus depot. And though it went against his nature to take from another person, he had her purchase a one-way ticket to the city for him. Afterwards, he ordered her to return back to the mansion. He waved a silent farewell to her as he boarded the bus, watching as she drove back to her home. He sighed softly, settling back into the seat. A small part of him felt bad, for the girl he’d used, and the woman that he’d be disappointing when she awoke in the morning.

I don’t want to hurt her. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I just want to be left alone. He sighed again, closing his eyes. Oh well. It’s for the best... for me and everyone else.

Eight days later, the old man was just returning to his new bolt hole, a dark little nook behind a section of condemned houses scheduled to be demolished sometime in the future, when he noticed a tall brown haired woman with glassed leaning next to a black van. She was smoking a cigarette, which didn’t bother him at all, but he noticed her eyes tracking him, which bothered him a great deal. Her clothing was above average, either Hollister or Abercrombie, which didn’t track since even the most stylish residents of the nearby area tended to bargain shop somewhere between K-mart and Wal-Mart. Extremely paranoid after his recent encounter, he decided to take the long way back to his nook, turning left instead, walking down an alleyway to circle back from the opposite side.

Reaching the other side of the alley, he immediately spotted two men, again sticking out from their better-than-the-norm clothing. Wearing dark sunglasses, he nevertheless felt them tracking his movement, watching him intently without making it too obvious. His familiar friend Anxiety spurred him to caution; panic and start running, and they might decide to do more than just watch him. Forcing himself not to run, he continued on to the left, moving along as if nothing was wrong, but changing his course, heading towards the one place of in the city that he knew he’d be safe.

Taking a right at a street corner, he noticed yet another anomaly, a woman in a red dress, also wearing sunglasses, sitting on a Bus Stop bench. She smiled at him as he passed, then rose to her feet, following after him at a respectable distance. That was enough to transform anxiety into fear, and leaving behind any pretense of normalcy, he ran. A quick glance back showed that he was still being followed, but the woman walked casually, not in any hurry. He ran faster.

Turning a corner, he found two more people, a man and a woman, both well dressed, both wearing sunglasses, heading directly towards him. He turned again, cutting across the unkempt yard of an abandoned house, getting ahead of his pursuers. Again, they continued to walk along, completely unhurried, while he ran for his life. It was like a dragnet, he realized. They were trying to cut off his escape, closing in on him from all sides.

Well, let them come, he thought grimly, as the warehouse came into view. Once I make it inside, I’ll have plenty of places to hide. I’ll wait them out and use the hidden passages underneath the floor and in the walls to keep them guessing.

Reaching the warehouse, he slid expertly through the loose boards of the fence, then squeezed through the small hole in the near wall’s concrete, inching through the drywall several feet, and exiting into the actual warehouse itself. He gave himself a moment to relax and catch his breath, knowing from experience it would take his pursuers several minutes to circumvent the security gate and enter through one of the doors even if they’d been right on his heels. Panting softly, he glanced around, trying to decide on a comfortable place to hide out.

Suddenly the room was brightly illuminated, and the old man cried out, shielding his eyes from the sudden light. “You know, that was pretty impressive,” Derrick said, standing up from the crate he’d been sitting on, waiting. “I guess you’ve practiced that kind of thing often enough that it’s probably second nature by now. Still... impressive.” He took a step towards the man, both hands up. “Easy there. Don’t worry... I’m not going to hurt you, or try to drag you off again. I just want to talk to you, okay?”

The old man glanced around, trying to decide if he could make it back into the crawlspace before his adversary could reach him, when Derrick added, “Feel free to run again, if you like, but as you already saw, my people have the block pretty much covered. This is your only refuge. You’ve got nowhere else to hide. And, as I said before, I just wanted to talk.”

Once the old man relaxed his stance, Derrick returned to his crate. “I’m not here to drag you back to the mansion. What would be the purpose, anyway? We can’t keep you there short of locking you in a room with twenty-four hour surveillance... and that would defeat the purpose of brining you there in the first place. Mistress Raina wanted it to be your choice... and now, I have to agree with her.” He took out a cigarette and lit it. “Hope you don’t mind if I smoke. Want one?” he said, offering the pack. The old man shook his head. “Fair enough. Okay. I guess I should tell you what happened after you left.”

Tricia came out of the effect of the Compliance jolt shortly after dawn, but not before her absence was noted by the other security guards. When we noticed you were gone as well, we were able to piece together what had happened, and Tricia filled in the rest once her trance ended. Mistress Raina was, of course devastated. Likewise, Tricia, who felt that she’d failed the Mistress again by letting you escape. Mistress didn’t blame her, told her gently but insistently that it wasn’t her fault, but Tricia was inconsolable.” He sighed. For three days after you left, she refused to eat or drink anything. It got to the point that Mistress had to command her to eat just to keep her from starving herself. That girl, she... you have no idea what it means to feel like you’ve failed the one person in your entire life that you cherish more than life itself.”

The old man closed his eyes briefly, remembering his lost wife and child. Yes. Yes, I have an idea. The past... it’s fuzzy and foggy, but its full of pain and disappointment. Running from that past... its why I’m where I am right now. Aloud, he said, “I never meant to hurt anyone. All I wanted was to be left alone. I just wanted to come home.”

Derrick nodded. “I know. The thing is... you already WERE home.” He took a small square object from his pocket, holding it up for the old man to see. “Relax. It’s not a weapon. This is a medical scanner. You remember... we used it to find you that first time. Here.” He handed the display to him. “You left before Dr. Simon arrived to do a full blood and DNA workup on you, but luckily someone remembered the haircut and shave we gave you before dinner. She tested your hair against a sample from the Master several years ago. Look at it yourself. 100%—a perfect match.” He shook his head. “Hard to believe... but you’re Him. When Mistress heard that, it eased some of her pain. I’d thought she would send us back out to find you again... but she forbade it. Said that it was enough for her to know you were alive... alive and well. If you wanted to spend the rest of your life on the streets, it was okay with her. So long as you were happy, she would be content.”

The old man stared at the picture, the two pairs of DNA strands lined up next to one another, and the results displayed at the bottom: 100%. Perfect Match. He shook his head in denial, tossing it back to Derrick. “It’s not true. This... it’s some kind of trick. You... made up those results, to get me to come back with you!”

Derrick laughed ruefully. “Are you kidding me? I wish there were fake. I wish to high heaven they were. If anything, I would have wanted to fix the results to say that you WEREN’T Henry Turlington! I’d sure as hell be easier on all the rest of us... especially Mistress. And Tricia.” He sighed. “I said it before. Mistress Raina forbade us from trying to capture you and bring you back again. Hell, she doesn’t even know I’m here. And I have no illusions about her reaction once she finds out what I’m doing. But... well, I had to try, yanno? Try and get you to see the truth.”

The old man continued to shake his head. “It CAN’T be the truth, dammit! I’m not this man! I have.. I have a past. I had a family... a wife, and a daughter! Believe me! If I had such a wonderful life as Him, with a mansion, and money, and beautiful women at my beckoned call, do you think I would have just run away the way He did?!?”

Derrick nodded slowly. “I see. Let me see if I can explain. He didn’t... run away, exactly. Mistress may have told you part of the story, but I doubt she filled in the details.” Tapping a few buttons on the scanning device, he handed it back to the old man. “This is the woman responsible for the trouble. Her name is—”

“Talia!” the old man shouted. His hands, lying peacefully by his side has clenched into fists, and a deep, white-hot, soul-burning anger filled him. The image before him was a stranger, a young attractive blonde woman he’d never seen before, and at the same time he knew her. Knew her, and hated her with every fiber of his being. SHE was the source... the source of all his pain, all his anguish and suffering. He knew it as deeply as he knew anything, but he didn’t know HOW he knew it, or what she had done.

“Yes, Talia,” Derrick continued, watching him carefully. “She was a... rival of Henry’s, you could say. Not quite as wealthy, not as well known or well liked in social circles, nevertheless they had a grudging respect for one another. That respect shattered, however, when he was able to outbid her in obtaining the services of Medco Bio-Industries, and their lead researcher, Dr. Simon. For some reason, Talia took it as a personal insult, and even though she hid it well at the time, she made it her mission to get back at Henry.”

“Among the many technological breakthroughs Medco Bio-Industries was researching, they’d recently developed a method to produce a state of, um, instantaneous... and persistent.... somnambulism... er... well, basically you could zap someone and put them in a hypnotic trance. I dunno, I’m not a scientist. The point is, with this machine, you could turn a group of people into loyal, obedient, brainwashed slaves. A nice toy, sure, but Henry already had a house full of loving, loyal, and obedient slaves, bound to his will without any artificial means. Talia wanted the device, and when she couldn’t buy it outright, she decided to steal it.”

The old man shook with barely contained rage. For the first time in years, the fog inside his mind was lifting, and he could sense a truth to the young man’s words. It all seemed very familiar, like a bedtime story told to an infant during his formative years then long forgotten until hearing it again in adulthood. Despite the thinning fog, the truth was still just out of reach, still too obscured to glimpse. Fear and anxiety crept along his spine, former friends, now they sought to keep him from thinking too hard about the past. Gritting his teeth, he continued to listen, continuing to probe at the elusive details of his memories.

“A few nights later, Henry held a party, a lavish black tie affair. Talia attended, all smiles and sweet words, but as soon as she had the chance she showed her true hand. Finding herself alone with one of the girls, she struck, using one of the prototype devices on her. A small metal disc, it attached to the back of her neck and stuck there, removing her will, and emptying her mind of all thought. She became a mindless drone, and Talia began filling that mind with thoughts of service and obedience—to her, and her alone. It wasn’t until the party ended and everyone else had departed that Talia revealed what she had done. The slave girl was completely hers, going so far as to defend her new ‘Mistress’ when Henry, enraged by the turn of events, tried to strike her. Talia taunted Henry with his inability to control one of his own slaves, laughed at his anger, ignored his threats, and in the end walked out the door with the girl in tow.”

“Henry tried to get her back, using legal means first, but to no avail. He then turned to more... primitive ways of getting to Talia, but the socialite managed to keep one step ahead of him. She eventually left the country, and he followed her, chasing her nearly around the world. For almost a year, he hounded her, fully willing to spend his entire fortune in order to get back his stolen slave. As for Talia, her resources were far from unlimited, and eventually he caught up to her back in the States, in New York. Even then, it was a stalemate; Talia’s control over the slave was absolute, and even her death would not free the slave from her control. So... Henry did the only thing he could do. He made the penultimate sacrifice. He decided to trade his own life for his slave girl’s freedom.”

“Ahhhhh!” the old man screamed, holding the sides of his head. Agony lanced through his mind, as if someone had opened the top of his skull and poured in boiling acid. Derrick’s words had resonated the hidden truth inside his mind; he knew it to be true, he KNEW it now, but still the memories flowed away from him like water through his fingers. The harder he tried to hold onto them, the more they slipped away, and the more the pain inside his skull increased.

“Hey, calm down! Relax!” Derrick said, alarmed at the man’s reaction. “Easy! Whatever she did to you while she had you under her thumb, she wanted it to last. She screwed with your memories, locked them away and gave you false ones. If you keep trying to fight against her programming that way, you’ll give yourself an embolism.” He laid a hand on the old man’s shoulder. “If you’ll trust me... I brought Dr. Simon with me. Her machine’s in the van outside, and if you’ll let her, she’d try and unlock those memories... and undo some of the damage that Talia did when she fucked you.”

Panting heavily, shaking slightly, the old man nodded. “Okay. Okay. I’ll do it. I’ll go with you. Whatever it takes... I need to know. I have to know the truth.”

Raina lay atop her bed, the pillow clutched tightly in her arms. She dozed fitfully, as she had for the past several days, nightmaring about that day, that horrible, curse day when everything in her life had changed for the worse. Tears streamed from her eyes, even in sleep, and she rolled around, restlessly, unable to find comfort within her dream or without.

“Very well, Henry,” Talia said smugly. “I accept your proposal. After all, YOU are the one I’ve been waiting to sink my claws into all this time!” Turning to the mute girl standing at attention at her side, she grunted. “Alright, slut. I release you. Your mind is your own once more.”

As simple as that, like a switch being flipped, raina’s mind and will returned to her. Gasping in shock, she felt to her knees, trembling, remembering every moment, every second of her ordeal, locked away deep in her own mind, unable to do anything but obey. Sobbing, she looked up in horror at her Master, knowing what he’d just agreed to. He merely smiled at her, reaching down with a free hand to wipe her tears.

“It’s all right, little one,” he said softly, sighing as she melted into his touch. “You’re safe now. You’re free. That’s all that matters.”

“No, please Master!” she begged, tears flowing like a river. “Don’t do this! Don’t sacrifice yourself for me! I’m not worth it! I’m just a lowly slave! Worthless! Please!”

“Shhhh!” he said, placing a fingertip against her lips. “I’ll have none of that. You are important to me, my sweet raina. You, chrissy, jana, ellen... all of my girls are worth more to me than a King’s Ransom. Don’t say that you are not worth it. If it’s the price I must pay to keep you and the others safe, then I’ll pay it, and gladly.”

Talia snorted derisively. “Oh, please. All of this syrupy emotion is giving me cavities. Boy, get the Compliance Disc on him, now!”

“Just a moment,” Henry said, pulling from of the two men at his sides. Turning, he faced his adversary in the eye. “You promised that you would release raina, that you would return her safely back to my care if I agreed to take her place. Do I have your word on that?”

“Yes, yes, of course,” the young socialite said irritably. “As we agreed. Now, stop stalling.”

“Alright... as soon as she leaves, you can do whatever you want to me. I don’t want her to see this.”

“Oh, but I DO want her to see,” Talia said, stepping forward. She snapped her fingers, and her two guards grabbed hold of Henry’s arms, forcing him to his knees, while a third grabbed raina’s arm, holding her still. “I want her to have a good close look as I do to her ‘great and powerful Master’ what I did to her! And I want her face, her image, burned into your mind as she watches you submit to me like a lowly slave, the lowest of the low.” She held up the small silver disk for him to see, laughing as he struggled angrily but fruitlessly to get free. “That’s it, Henry! Get angry. Fight me! Struggle against your fate. It just makes it all the more satisfying for me.”

“NO! Please!” raina begged, struggling to reach her beloved Master. “No! Not him, not him! Take me instead! I beg you!”

“No, raina,” Henry said softly, stilling her struggles. “It’s done. I want you to promise me that you’ll take care of the rest of my girls for me. If I... can’t be there, then I want you to look after them for me. No matter what it takes, keep them safe.”

“I... I promise,” raina said, sobbing gently.

“Good,” he said softly, closing his eyes. “It will be hard, but you can do it. I know you can. I trust you. I love you.”

“Oh, to hell with this,” Talia grunted, slapping the disc to the back of his neck. “From now on, you’re mine, you son of a bitch!”

“A life for a life,” Henry managed to breathe out just before the life faded from his eyes...

A life for a life.

A life... for a life

Raina moaned in her sleep, turning over to her side. The pain was too fresh, too real. Years after she’d managed to avenge her Master, mindwiping Talia with one of her own stolen discs, the hurt remained, like an open wound that refused to heal. The years had been long and hard without Him, and some nights only her faithful adherence to that promise kept her going. Talia had taken Him away from her, from all of them. They’d found Him again, even if He was no longer the man she knew, and though it would never again be as it once was, it was enough.

It was enough.

“Raina.”

A soft touch caressed her cheek, and Raina moaned again, her senses reeling. It was His touch, her Master’s touch, His voice in her ear... or was it in her mind? No... she was asleep, still asleep, lost in dreams, her need for Him brushing away the nightmare finally, yet still leaving her unfulfilled. Then He was with her, touching her, caressing her, his flesh hot against her own, and she moaned again, needing Him, needing so badly to feel Him, touch Him, taste Him, and she dreamed it was His lips pressing against her own, sucking the breath from her, as His fingers travelled slowly, so very slowly down her stomach, going lower, teasing the tops of her thighs, tickling, before moving slowly inward, the same way He used to touch her, tease her, drawing it out, making her crazy with need, simply CRAZY, until she couldn’t resist anymore, until she had to BEG for Him to touch her, down there, where she needed, needed, needed...

“Master, please!” she gasped, eyes fluttering open, looking up.

Staring directly into the pair of kind, loving brown eyes that had haunted her dreams for more than ten years.

“Cum for me, my raina,” Henry said softly, tenderly.

“Ohhhh! Ohhhhmygoooodddd!” she screamed, feeling His touch, really His touch, right there, right where she needed it the most. Pleasure, surprise, joy, fulfillment, bliss, satisfaction, love, devotion—all these feelings swept through her at once as her release came, shattering her world, splintering her mind and soul, then reforming them again, newer, better than before. All the while, her eyes never left His, the image of His smile burning its way into her memory, erasing the pain, numbing the hurt. “Master,” she sobbed softly, again and again, clutching Him as tight as she could, as if she’d never let go. “Master! Master!” she sobbed continuously. “Oh Master!”

“Shhh,” Henry whispered softly, stroking her hair gently. “It’s okay. I’m home, little one. I’m finally home.”