The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Mercury & The Amnesia Bead Master

Disclaimer: This story is suitable only for those 18 years of age or older. Contains suggestive, erotic content, and graphic imagery. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental (as if similarity to anything real was a possibility, jeez).

The elevator doors opened smoothly. Professionally-attired men and women stepped out one by one into the lobby. Heels clattered on smooth marble, until one woman remained. Brown-hair teased at the edges, she watched the doors close, her green eyes glittering as morning sunlight reflected off brass. Two levels higher, the doors opened again, and she stepped out onto the well-lit walkway, and crossed over into the second, larger building. This was her day; an opportunity to meet the “Boss”. A coworkers’ voice echoed in her mind; she had been seated in her office the moment the executive call arrived.

“Your presentation must have made quite an impression,” Kaitlyn had said to her. She should not have been surprised. Andrea’s influence had been steadily increasing, and as a result she had been promoted into a position of considerable responsibility, albeit within a less recognized division. Her big moment in the spotlight would come, and today could be THAT day. As she was whisked up to the top of the tower, she smiled, and prepared herself mentally. She would finally see with her own eyes what others around her had not. Of all the companies she had worked for, the head of THIS corporation was most secretive of all. He kept himself tucked away within a suite at the top of the tower. It served not only as a posh office, but also his living quarters. No one she knew claimed to have seen him, and there were half-joking rumors that indeed no one had. She smiled. Of course, that idea was completely absurd.

One leg smoothly crossing over the other, Andrea quickly looked over her appearance as she sat in the waiting room. Her smart, conservative outfit blended perfectly with the environs. Several large plasma screens flashed the latest stock market news. She looked up. Little had changed – prices were down. Overseas markets had been rattled overnight. Rumors of commodity shortages persisted. War might even be on the horizon. Despite all of the turmoil, she was sure that none of that mattered behind the thick wooden doors. The corporation’s profits had grown three-fold in the years since she joined, with no sign of slowing. She smiled, in part because she knew she had been part of the success, and also because there was so much more to her than she let on. Her hand silently slipped its way just under the top of her blouse, where it felt the thin silver chain which wound its way down to her cleavage. A small crystal pendant rested there, as brass began chiming brightly. The hour had become full, announced by a tiny hammer striking an unseen rod nine times. It was the appointed hour.

“He’ll see you now,” the receptionist announced.

“True to his punctual reputation,” Andrea thought, as she rose. With a buzz, the lock clicked free, and with a whirr, one side of the doorway opened inwards. Her heels were hushed as they landed on soft, meticulously-clean carpet. The door closed behind.

“Please have a seat, Andrea.” His voice threw her off balance, the pitch of the request not only higher than she would have imagined, but somewhat nasal sounding.

She could not see the man who sat in a high-back leather chair facing away from her at the other end of the mahogany table. As she sat, she became aware of the room’s technological edge. Multiple cameras were perched in the corners, focused on her. The executive’s chair faced a flat-screen monitor which showed vital signs – a steady heartbeat, yet not in sync with her own. “Is he in poor health?”, she wondered.

“Don’t think that I’m unhealthy,” said the voice. “Just paranoid.” The high back chair remained motionless.

“So, Andrea, I’m certain you’re interested in knowing why you are here. Do you think this has something to do with your presentation to the board last week?” The voice lifted up at the end, tinged with amusement. Andrea felt a little resentment, and had to steady her hands, tight as they were on her skirt. Below the table, fabric bunched under her nails.

“Well.. yes, I thought it went rather well... sir.” She hesitated, then added, “If you’d like a private briefing, I would be glad to go over the details of the project proposal.” She started to imagine a VERY different presentation, one that would require his complete... focus. He would never suspect what she could do to him.

“Not necessary. You have other skills which are more valuable to me.” Andrea’s eyebrow lifted, and her hands rose above the table. With the boss looking away, and the cameras all but forgotten, she began to fidget with a black pen.

“Really.. Such as... ?”

“Hypnosis.” The pen clattered to the table top.

“Remain seated please, Andrea. Or would you prefer me to use your nomme incognito... ‘Mercury’?” Her heart raced, easily doubling pace of the steady beat that could be heard from the monitor on the other side.

“What do you mean?”, she asked, her voice almost cracking.

“I should have known the moment your KC Action 16 ‘Special Report’ went on-air. The sound from the TV just wasn’t quite normal, and everything became a little ... fuzzy. I started to forget why I was wondering how an executive of mine was on the evening news. Then your embedded suggestions hit me. Blankness. I didn’t even remember turning off the TV. Thankfully, I had THEM.” A lone hand outstretched beyond the chair’s boundary, and pointed at one of the cameras.

“Each morning I scrutinize overnight footage, just to be sure no one is sneaking up on me while I sleep. But to my surprise I did not sleep that night. I had been kneeling before the TV. Before your image, which remained long beyond the appointed news hour. All that effort to make everyone forget who you are, and now you know.. I know you... Mercury.” Sweat was already collecting on her forehead. She had to think quickly.

“You were the woman who flew away from that corner bar, laughing at the world. You really got back at that man in the purple tights.. or should I say, lavender tights?” A short chuckle chased the thought, yet the chair remained still. She desperately wanted to see the man.. and make him lock his focus on her eyes.

“Yes, you’re wicked, Mercury, and I’ve got an overseas assignment for you.”

“Lavender tights? Hypnosis? Oh, you’ve confused me with someone else. And I’m not so wicked as to – ” A metal arm extended out from a slot in the wall, affixed with a flat-screen monitor which was maneuvered to a perfectly comfortable viewing angle in front of her. “What’s this?... ”


“Evidence? I have done nothing..” The TV crackled to life, and Andrea’s face blanched. It was footage from the Berkeley campus, where treehuggers had defied authorities for months unending to fight the construction project. The image froze.

“Truth be told, Mercury, did anyone actually buy the official spin? The last treehugging protester slipped, fell out of the tree, and broke his back. Sure...” The TV image began moving again. The sound of rustling branches could be heard, and the faint sound of a woman’s voice from the lush tree centered in the frame. Then a limb shook, and a limp man fell hitting the dirt with a thud. Someone out of view gasped, as a woman adorned with lavender tights and a matching skin-tight top drifted down from the branches and planted her feet on the ground, just a foot away from the fallen body.

The voice from behind the camera was shaken, sobbing. “Oh my god... Is she going to help him?”

With a concerned look on her face, she gently stooped over to check the man. Wide-eyed bystanders with chainsaws and goggles strapped atop their head approached, then stopped just short. The camera zoomed in on the woman’s face, both on the TV, and within the executive suite. Andrea was blushing furiously.

The woman arose and proclaimed, “He’s hypnotically anesthetized. Go for it!” The men cheered, as they donned their goggles and cranked up the chainsaws. Mercury smiled and soared into the sky, as sawdust shot out of the tree and began accumulating on the back of the fallen man.

“What the hell! Did you see THAT? Holy shit!” The sound of splintering wood filled the air, as the tree fell atop the grounded man. A familiar nasal voice was heard.

“Erm, excuse me, sir. How much would you want for that camera? SHRRRKK” The TV shut off, and began sliding back into the wall.

“Good thing that I was in the vicinity to negotiate a deal. We don’t need vigilantes posting enviro-terrorist crap to YouTube...” The chair creaked just slightly as the invisible Boss shifted his weight.

“I have confidence that you are twisted and talented enough to pull off the mission.” Andrea/Mercury lifted her head off the table, and brushed her hair behind her ear.

“What mission... sir?” He chuckled. She secretly hoped the security cameras would visibly malfunction, so she could hypnotically wail on the mystery man.

“Twisted and talented. Yes, you are just the woman to take down Fao King Hung.” She crossed her arms.

“Fao King Hung? THE Fao King Hung?”

“Yes, there’s only one Fao King Hung. I double-checked. We don’t want to assassinate the wrong man, of course.”

“WHAT?! Why would I do that?”

“I’m sure you’ll find at least one good reason.” The Boss’ hand became visible once more, reached over the top of the chair, and planted a thick leather-bound binder onto the table.

“You may take it after I excuse myself, which I will do momentarily. Mercury, if I thought you were anything but the best, I would have outsourced this task to a crystal-swinging Indian shaman with a penchant for throwing rusty knives at astral planes. Frankly, I don’t need more trouble with the FAA right now, so you’re the person for the job. Think it over, and let me know by tomorrow morning.” The Boss’ chair whirred, and abruptly slid over to one side of the room, where tracks were visible leading to the wall’s edge. Seams appeared within that surface, and it slid up with a hiss, an opening into utter blackness. The chair zoomed forward into the maw, and with a second hiss, the wall became whole once more.

That evening, Andrea shivered under her covers as she read the briefing materials. Page by page, she flipped through his horrid deeds. One in particular left her resolute.

She spoke out loud, her brow furrowing: “Fao King Hung is the Amnesia Bead Master?!” Minutes later, she hung up the phone, and began packing. Across town, her boss cackled.

“Yes, Fao King Hung! Mercury is coming for you. You’re fucked now. Ahhhh hahahahhahaha!!!”

* * *

Mercury was already disavowing sea travel. She wished she could have flown in, using her other non-hypnotic superpowers.

“The Chinese might pick you up on radar. We cannot jeopardize the mission,” the boss had said.

The mission had been green-lit on such short-notice, and with the Olympic games just about underway, the commercial airlines were booked solid. She even asked if she could take the corporate jet, but the Boss had other ideas.

“I don’t need this incident traced back to me, understand? You can fly to the Ryukyu Islands in the East China Sea, but no further. A merchant freighter will pick you up and take you to Shanghai. Only the captain will have any knowledge of your presence. Board by night, and he will lead you under-deck. Clothes, passport, and other requisite ids will be provided. Security will still be tight, but I understand you can make short work of wayward ship inspectors who might find you.”

“Why, would a beautiful woman appear misplaced in a cargo hold?”, she quipped.

“Are you serious?”, he asked with a tone of annoyance. “Of course a pretty woman would be misplaced there.”

“Kind of like your bed, mmmm?” The slam of the phone caused her to jerk her cell phone from her ear. She folded it and tucked it back into her purse with a smile. She was starting to enjoy needling him.

Unfortunately, nausea was intensifying, and her amusement faded, as her body flung shadows against one corner of the chamber, then the other, as she swayed on a cot. She threw back another pill and swallowed with a gulp of fishy-tasting water. She coughed fitfully and lay back, the back of her hand draped across her damp brow. Somehow, a mad dream slipped in, and she dreamt of a pier. An American pier.

In her mind, the drums rattled. Rat-a-tat-tat. Rat-a-tat-tat. Background rhythm that accompanied the sweep of binoculars across the horizon. Dawn had been approaching shore for the past hour. All appeared to be well. The guardsman lowered them, and stepped back into his booth for his second cup of coffee. As fluid poured, he heard a backwash to his left. Odd.. no ship was scheduled to dock at this hour. He stepped back out. In the dim light he could just make out a ship’s silhouette, and a Chinese flag. His hand flew to his mouth. He had seen ... teeth.

Mercury imagined a tap on her shoulder. She opened her eyes, staring into gray jaws. Opening wide, they threatened to clamp down on her, but stopped short, and simply opened a dark chamber within inches of her face. BRAAAAAA-AAAAAHHHH!!!! She screamed, and fell out of bed to the echo of a foghorn.

“Ouch...” It sounded a second time. BRAAAAAA-AAAAHHH!!!! Just a dream... the ship wouldn’t eat her, or San Francisco, after all. But she still had much to do now.

A knock rattled the cabin door, and the shadow of a bearded face called to her. “Mercury? You awake?”


“We’ve arrived in Shanghai. The customs officials will board in a few minutes and give us a look over. Stay here for now. I’ll be back to let you undock.. soon.”

* * *

The sun had only just risen over the horizon, yet wisps of her hair clung to the side of her face, already damp. Entering the hotel brought only a little relief. “Is there no air conditioning?”

“Ah, no.. conserve,” said the suited man in front of the roped hotel desk queue. Even at this hour, there were already a half-dozen others waiting. She was grateful for the influx of tourists and athletes, though. A blond Scandinavian went past hauling a rucksack over his shoulder, a head above her own. A small group of brawny men – Russians by the sound of their thick accents—congregated nearby. With all the Europeans and Americans present, her own well-heeled height seemed not so unusual. Still, she managed to draw some attention with her looks. By the time she had checked in, two of the Russians insisted on carrying her bags. Two flights above, she opened the door, incidentally brushing one of them as they stood. Oh my... Her nipple tingled just a bit from that. She flashed her best smile, and touched his wrist in gratitude. His breath held, and she knew in a moment how she would have taken him, but let the moment pass. Oh, those Russians...

Once the door slid shut and latched, she slowly unbuttoned her yellow blouse and slid it off. Her crystal pendant hung there, just barely swaying, as she splashed cool water from a basin on her face. The cotton soaked in the dampness there, yet it was only a temporary stay against the heat. She removed her pleated cotton skirt, revealing white satin which shimmered slightly while stroked by a lone sunbeam through an opening in the curtains. She lowered herself to the floor, and tucked her legs beneath, so that the beam instead caressed her closed eyelids. In the orange warmth she breathed deeply, and began to focus her thoughts. Perspiration began to slowly bead, yet that could not stop the influx of hypnotic thoughts.. phrases.. loops of words intended to be the start of someone’s undoing...

* * *

“Mmmm...”, Mercury sighed as she sat, sipping on something delicious and fruity.. and cool. Pleasantly iced, the only perspiration to be seen glided down the edge of her glass, accelerated by a swipe of her finger. The air was chilled as well. She felt a little shiver that ran down her back, and the length of her leg. Reflexively, she reached down and stroked her calf. Her fingers glided smoothly over scented skin, down to her ankle, and finally stopped at the strap of her heels. She flexed her leg, and it already felt a little different. Mmmm... the smooth drink was having some effect, numbing her painted toes a little as they wiggled and stretched.

“I must not get carried away with this,” she thought as she crossed her legs the other way. “But it tastes so good.” She tilted the glass back. It was a classy party. Tuxes and elegant gowns were all there for effect. A band played. Servers hurried here and there. But this was no party for athletes. When she finished her drink and stood up, she knew she stood out – a little at least. The target’s attention was drawn to her. How could he not notice? There was a glimmer of a crystal, her bright eyes, the sheen of her legs. Once a seat was brought forward, and she saddled up to him, events proceeded faster than she had imagined. By the time the party wound down, she found that this was not to be the night... but Fao King Hung had provided her an invitation to a quieter, personal affair at his private estate the next evening. And once she had the address, with only scant hours remaining until dawn, she knew her work was cut out for her..

* * *

The following evening, at Mr. Hung’s estate...Mercury is bringing him closer to the edge...She has been talking to him, bringing him slowly under her subtle influence...

Mr. Hung tried to trace his finger along her cheek, but it missed by a few inches, sliding in space instead.

“What’s .. happening?”, he wondered aloud, his eyes beginning to glaze.

“A trap of your own making, Mr. Hung.” Mercury’s eyes were alight. “Didn’t you see beads at the bottom of your drink?”

“Beads?” Instead of appearing cross, he became cross eyed.

“Yes, Mr. Hung. Beads. The toy beads you sold to America last year just before the holidays – the ones children played with and suckled on. Sickening beads, digested into memory-erasing GhB.”

“No, no! Was mistake..”

“Mistake? You’ve got that right.” She straddled him, and pulled out the crystal pendant, anger becoming increasingly apparent. “I’m going to hypno-regress your ass right back to the Ming Dynasty.”


“Yes, watch the crystal, Mr. Hung.” The pendant began swaying. His voice wavered.

“I’ve.. seen.. before... TV... no work here.”

“Oh yes, but it will, Mr. Hung. No one can truly resist. I can take you down at any time of my choosing, and with your poison slowly working it’s way through your system, your mind will succumb even quicker. You cannot doubt me..”

“Yes.. I... can...” She reached down his pants and gasped. Hard again ALREADY? That stud. The crystal continued swinging, but now his eyes ceased to follow, as his eyelids fluttered in response to the pleasure delivered by her hand. She put down the crystal, and began to unbutton her blouse

“Mr. Hung, I’m impressed, but apparently my technique is more than you can take...”


“... and if I strip...” She flung silk off to the side.


“... down to where I can feel you...” Her skirt found it’s way there as well.


“... I can work you to the point where your mind will be still...”

“Yes...” The Bead Master was succumbing too quickly to stop. He gasped as she began to slide damp satin panties down her legs.

“MERCURY.. STOP!”, commanded a voice above. Mercury pulled her panties up and rose to her feet. Fao remained dazed on the floor. Men with various cutlery stood at attention behind a balcony. A lone man stood at the front, with loose trousers. His bare chest puffed out, and his chin silently challenged her. Keeping her poise, she responded with a question.

“How do you know my name?”

“Harumph... My secret, not yours.” She thought of something else.

“Why should I not fuck this man and leave him mentally vacuous? He is deserving of punishment for his misdeeds, is he not?” The man looked even more indignant, something Mercury would not have thought possible a moment prior.

“Harumph... He born wrong year for you! 1960!” Mercury placed her well-manicured hands on her sexy hips and laughed.

“Oh, right! If you want to fight me for some stupid reason, come on down. Then I’m going to beat you all, and THEN fuck Mr. Hung and then have my way with all of you with my hypnosis. That would be just too embarrassing, wouldn’t it? C’mon boys, look at me, look at my sexy pendant.. and tell me, now ... do you REALLY want to fight?” Her crystal pendant rested perfectly centered between her breasts, catching a glimmer of light. She thought she might have had them convinced, but then one of them extended a slightly crooked finger, his black eyes burning...

“1960 ... no good.... RAT FUCKER!!!!!!!” The others began twirling their implements before leaping off the balcony in pairs, screaming.

The first man to reach the ground didn’t have a chance, and neither did the second. Mercury stepped up to them quickly.

“Tap. Tap. Drop.” Stunned, each felt her finger against their forehead, and they fell to the ground. A second pair of men landed just behind her as a the fifth and sixth man landed in front.

“Criss cross.” She leapt into the air and spun out of their midst as the unexpected post-hypnotic suggestion took effect. All four clasped a knife, and threw with a true aim towards their diagonal counterpart. The men never blinked, even as they fell. The ringleader awaited her as she landed, with a bewildered look.

“How you do this?”, he asked.

“I made a discreet visitation last night. Do you remember my whispers?”, Mercury asked with a grin.

“That was you? Bad dream.”

“Oh really? Did it happen to involve.. a MONKEY?” The man’s eyes became wide with terror.

“I see him!” He began backing up. “Please...No.” His feet skidded on the slick surface, and he fell back on his hands. Now his slippers kicked against the floor as he struggled to get leverage. His thoughts became jumbled. He saw the “monkey” as clearly as Mercury herself. They both grinned at him as he pressed his back into the wall.

“Go peel that BANANA!”

“Aiieeeee! Aiieeeee!” The man began slapping the air. Veins on his arms stood out as he wrestled with the invisible foe. Mercury turned her head at the sound of scrambling footsteps, and saw the remaining men escaping the room with a limp Fao in tow. She sighed, and casually walked to retrieve her clothing. Time for Plan B. As she reached the door, she turned off the lights. Monkeys, even the imaginary ones, see better than people at night.

“Aggggggggghhhhhh!” The victorious monkey did a jig on his body.

* * *

Back at corporate headquarters, the Boss impatiently strums the side of his chair with his fingers, eyes glued to the TV..

“How can she possibly pull this off? Hundreds of security officers... cameras everywhere. And even the smog is under control.” He wanted to reach into his tub of popcorn, but it seemed premature for celebration. She must have lied to him.

* * *

In the Shanghai stadium, it was Day 2 of the decathlon, Fao King Hung was in attendance, along with other notable corporate leaders ...There is a knock at back of his open-faced booth, half-way up in the stands.

Fao turned his head, and saw a slender woman peeking through. He curled one finger, beckoning.

“Sao King Wang?” he asked. She stood, arms by her side.

“That is name? Sao King Wang?” Her head nodded. If he had paid more attention, he might have noticed how vacant her eyes were.

“Good. Begin, Sao King.” She drew near, and dipped below the booth ledge, out of view of the cameras, which periodically focused on him, beaming his image to billions.

* * *

At the corporate headquarters, popcorn is being flung at the TV...

“Now he’s smiling, dammit! And that man never smiles. Dammit, I want him dead! Fao King dead. Screw this...I’m calling her and pulling the plug on this mission.” His hand extended over the chair and plucked the black receiver off its cradle. Suddenly, the roar of the crowd drew his attention back on screen. The camera was zoomed in on a decathlete’s face. A blank face. Then it arced over, not yet zoomed in, yet focused on Hung’s booth. A nondescript long pointed object could be seen jutting out. The announcers’ voice wavered.

“I cannot believe this... the decathlete lost control, and the javelin flew right into the crowd. It looks like it may have landed in Fao King Hung’s booth. I hope he’s alright.. Totally unprecedented in Olympic history. Jim, there may be a serious injury up there.. Medical personnel are making their way up the stands right now...”

The Boss was doing a jig. “Yes! Yes! I never doubted you, Mercury! NEVER!” His arm reached over the chair for his soda, and he took a big gulp. His heart monitor registered a happy, quick beat.

“Yes, they’ve just confirmed that Fao King Hung has been speared... you won’t believe this folks... yes, speared by the javelin, right through his chest. And that’s not the only exciting news... It’s official. Even dead, Fao King Hung set an unofficial world record!”

“Huh?”, said the Boss. The Olympic camera zoomed in on the booth. Coke spat out, and splattered the TV.


“Mr. Hung is indeed... er.. hung. Shit, I didn’t just see that. Tell me we did NOT get that shot. Fuck... fuck .. FUCK! The FCC is going to carve our ass, isn’t it? ... Well, I CAN SAY IT NOW, CAN’T I? Dumbass cameraman.” The announcer shook his head, then somehow managed to regain his composure in the span of a second. “Back to you, Jim.”

* * *

Later that evening...

Mercury was on a flight back to Kansas City. She pressed the button and closed her eyes as the newscast winked out, and the screen folded back into the ceiling. She could care less what the Boss thought. Fingering her pendant softly as sleep enveloped her, she had ideas. Lots of ideas. She would have the advantage when she returned...