The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Author’s Note: ‘Needle Dance’ precedes this story. If you wish to know more of Corelle D’Amber, then try Friendly Takeover’.

Needle Chorus

EyeofSerpent

I couldn’t stop the beautiful voices from singing the praises of my exquisite bride. Visions of my fingers running through her long white hair danced behind my eyes. I felt the phantom brush of her frozen amber eyes caress my breasts and nipples underneath my bra.

My thoughts slipped and fell down dark stairways in my head. I was uncomfortably wet and aroused. I missed my bride terribly. I wanted to be with her instead of waiting to do the interview today.

I turned up the radio music to drag my thoughts back to the matters at hand. Sitting in the car waiting for the limousine to pull into the hotel’s garage, I went over the plan again. Each step of the plan seemed like a broken dream. If I put all the dreams together correctly, I was sure I’d have my own life back. I was sure my bride wanted what was best for both of us. What was my old life? Was something missing? What was I longing for except my bride’s words of praise?

The chorus of voices ascended to celestial harmony in my head.

I opened the briefcase once again and examined the blocks of gray smudgy plastic wired into the small board. Three green lights told me the device was ready. I pushed the check circuit and got the proper flashing amber light.

Was I ready? I had never tried anything like this. It seemed so simple.

Do the interview with D’Amber. Leave the briefcase ‘by accident’ after the session. Come back to the car. Drive away and file the story.

Watch the news for the report of the destruction of a large portion of the hotel.

There. Movement caught my eyes and the waiting was over.

Watching the long black limousine rolling down the street I held my breath. If it didn’t turn into the garage, I could go home. Maybe call a doctor and get some pills so the beautiful voices would quiet down.

The mirror black car slowed and turned into the garage under the hotel. I pulled the keys out of the ignition and tossed them in my purse. Opened the driver’s door and slid my legs out, standing in one smooth motion.

Time to piece together the dreams that would make me whole.

* * *

“Hello, Ms. Jesby,” the woman had a no nonsense handshake, “I’m Evelyn Flaumel, Ms. D’Amber’s personal assistant. Can I get you a drink?”

“Thanks, coffee” I nodded, “black, please. Where should I sit?” Evelyn’s blonde hair was a sharply styled pageboy. Her leather pants and black silk blouse didn’t seem like the right clothes for a personal assistant to a venture capitalist. Why not a business suit? D’Amber was supposed to be an elegant dresser and strictly corporate.

“Ms. D’Amber will sit in one of the straight-back chairs, so just make yourself comfortable anywhere.”

I held up the micro-recorder, “My editor said recording wasn’t a problem? Is that OK?” I set the briefcase down nearly out of sight between the couch and the end table, where it could be smoothly ‘forgotten’ later.

“That’s fine.” Evelyn walked back to me and set down the cup on the coffee table. “Anything else I can help with? Ms. D’Amber is on the phone and she’ll join us in just a minute.”

I smiled feeling nausea in my stomach as an image of Evelyn blown to small bloody pieces slipped out of my fevered thoughts. “No. I’m ready to go. You’ve been great.”

She laughed, “You should see me when I’m really trying to make someone comfy. I’m dangerous.”

I started to vomit and quickly grasped a memory of my face in my bride’s moist privates. The rush of pleasure steadied me and I smiled at Evelyn. “Thanks for the warning. Next time I’ll challenge you with something tougher than black coffee.”

“It’s a deal.” She pointed at me with an extended finger.

The bedroom door opened and my interview entered.

Corelle D’Amber walked in without fanfare and I returned her firm handshake. My journalists mind took over and I started my mental file on her. She was average height with auburn hair that saw more sunshine than I expected, she seemed early forties, but I knew she was just three days short of her fiftieth birthday. She really knew how to dress. Suede pumps, silver bracelets that matched the design of her earrings, and a white carnation in her lapel were her choices today. Her silver silk blouse had a lacey cravat that I wanted as soon as I saw it. She was sporting a very nice charcoal suit with a tiny pearlescent pinstripe. The patch over her eye was exactly the same material as her suit, even to the extent that the pinstripe was neatly aligned with her jacket.

I wasn’t sure how much it cost to care about details that small, but it wasn’t odd for ‘driver’ personalities to be obsessed with detail. I was struck by the fact that she had such a plain face that her clothes seemed the finer for the juxtaposition.

“I’m Heather Jesby from Tech Venture magazine.” I sat down on the couch and put my recorder on the coffee table. “We’re doing a series of profiles on the do’s and don’ts of financing startup companies. Our slant is to bring small slices of personal philosophy to the article.”

“If it’s a personal slant, then please call me Corelle.” She sat down and pulled the mahogany chair closer to the table.

Her voice was deeper than I expected for a woman her size. “Thanks, please call me Heather. Let’s start with where you went to school. Who were the teachers that impressed you the most? Did you know at that time that you wanted to be in finance? Your major was Sociology.” I took a long sip of the coffee. I kept solid contact with her emerald green eye.

She nodded, “Actually, my first year major was History. I switched to Sociology in my sophomore year. I had a minor in economics. It’s been thirty years so I can’t remember names I’m afraid, but there were teachers who got me thinking about my career early on.”

I pulled out my notebook from an inside pocket of my blazer, “I have names from your—.”

“Excuse me.” She interrupted. “Evelyn?” Only two seconds later, Evelyn was standing behind Corelle’s chair.

“Yes?” the blonde’s voice was soft but precise.

“Please close the drapes. The sunshine is nice but the glare on the table is distracting.” Corelle looked at me, “I hope you don’t mind. Sometimes my eye is sensitive to glare.”

I certainly didn’t mind and shook my head to tell her so.

Seeing that, Evelyn moved with quick economy to the left side of the room and started closing the double layer of window coverings. Without being asked, she moved around the room turning on a few lights. The solid backing on the drapes was damned effective in hotels. With them closed, it was like night in the suite.

I indicated the drapes. “Does your handicap affect your vision in other ways? Is it hard to look at balance sheets? Are computer monitors tricky?” I thought a follow-up to this might interest readers. The flaws and weaknesses of the rich and powerful was always a good theme.

Corelle smiled, “Good question. Most people either don’t think about it or dare ask. There are some problems. Computer monitors tire my eye quickly. I don’t have trouble with fine print or columns of numbers. I am licensed to drive, but depth perception is not very good. I have to be careful with that. These days I’m driven most places.” She gestured smoothly with a slender hand.

“Also direct sunlight masks things that I might see with my other eye, such as the strangely distorted electro-magnetic field of your brain, Heather.” She reached up and lifted up her eye patch.

Mygodinheaven, under the—

—Needles. Amber eyes. Furious. Agony. Arousal. Death. My aching sex. Trying so hard to please. Worshipping her beautiful pussy. My hot legs. Fingering myself. White beautiful hair draped over her gorgeous robe of sailing dragons. Licking. My wet sex. Serving her. Submitting. Sinking into her beautiful voice. The chorus of beatific voices. Soon the broken dreams would be whole—

“Heather?”

I looked at D’Amber. I had forgotten the next question.

“Are you feeling better?”

I shifted in the chair, trying to remember something important. “Sure.” I gave her a naughty smile. I felt much better. I was quite aroused and really ready for some sex. I had no illusions about how desirable I was to a billionaire financier, but it was fun to think of leaning over her with my hands on the arms of her chair. Pushing my knee between her legs, pushing my knee up her skirt while I leaned over her plain mouth.

Strange. It felt like something had broken loose in my head.

Husband. I suddenly remembered Todd and wondered where he was and why he wasn’t here. Then I had an attack of nausea and an image of white hair spilling past a nude pussy. My own hand running over the warm slick slit, my tongue penetrating the beauty of her warm snatch.

I loved my husband Todd. No. I was married to my lovely bride. I was faithful to my bride.

“Heather. You should relax.” D’Amber looked concerned. “You must relax.”

Her voice was plain and harsh. My bride’s voice was music. Todd was a man and unimportant. I loved women. I loved pussy. I loved the chorus of voices. What had I forgotten? What time was it? I glanced at my watch.

“Heather!” Corelle snapped her fingers and I looked up. She reached up and lifted up her eye patch.

Mygodinheaven, it couldn’t—

—Needles. Too many sharp points. Amber eyes. Frozen eyes. Furious. Shame. Agony. Obedience. Arousal. Warning. Death. My aching sex. My fingers crushing my pussy lips. So hot. Trying so hard to please. Worshipping her beautiful pussy. My hot legs. Crouched in front of her sex. Fingering myself. White beautiful hair draped over her gorgeous robe of sailing dragons. Licking. Pleasing her with my nose and tongue. My wet sex. Humping my hand. Serving her. Submitting. Her slave. Sinking into her beautiful voice. The chorus of beatific voices. A cathedral of voices telling me how to die. Soon the broken dreams would be whole—

“Heather?”

I looked at D’Amber. I dropped the small notebook and stood up.

“Are you feeling better?” She watched me closely.

I took off my blazer and let it fall to the floor trying to remember something important. “Sure.” I gave her a wicked smile. I felt threatened and yet dangerous. I was quite aroused and really ready for sex now. I wanted her to squirm and beg me to fuck her. I wished I had brought a strap on. I wished I owned one. I went over to her and leaned over her with my hands on the arms of her chair. My knee pushed between her legs, feeling her smooth hose against mine, pushing my knee up under her skirt while I leaned over her plain mouth.

Evelyn. I suddenly saw Evelyn moving towards me with a peculiar look on her face. Threatening clouds crossed her still face. A look of controlled danger that I didn’t understand was tightly wrapped around her eyes. She looked like she could kill me.

Corelle held up a hand. “No. She’s not reacting properly. There’s something odd.”

Evelyn stopped like a toy that had been switched off. God, that was hot. Controlled like a toy. I remembered an image of white hair spilling past a nude wet pussy. My tongue penetrated the beauty of a warm snatch in the vision. I looked down into Corelle’s single eye wondering if she shaved her privates.

“I’m married. Do you care?” I husked. I heard a chorus of voices singing my praises. My lovely bride would sing my praises.

“Heather. Something has been done to you. I’m trying to discover why you are so detached.”

Her voice was thin and harsh. My bride’s voice was honey and music. Corelle was a woman. I loved women. I loved pussy. I loved the chorus of voices. What had I forgotten? What time was it? I glanced at my watch.

Evelyn spoke, “Time, Corelle. Something about the time. She’s looked at her watch twice now. Let me get her out of here.”

Time? Broken dreams? Would the coming Fire cleanse away the frozen amber eyes? I slid my fingers into Corelle’s reddish hair. I pulled her head back exposing her throat. “I want you to want me.” I started kneading between her legs with my knee pressed hard against her crotch. I felt moisture there and my expectations soared as high as the voices in my head. “I want you once before we die.”

“Corelle!” Evelyn demanded with concern.

“Evelyn, her mind is caught and I’m trying to break the hold. Heather,” Corelle whispered, “your knee is very hot. I like it. Take off my eye patch.”

I reached up and lifted off her eye patch without thinking.

Mygodinheaven, the hot—

—Needles. Dancing in my flesh. Too many sharp points. Amber eyes. Frozen eyes. Furious. Shame. Agony. Obedience. Arousal. Warning. Death. My aching sex. My mind penetrated. My fingers crushing my hot pussy lips. So hot. Trying so hard to please. Worshipping her beautiful pussy. Her white hair. My hot legs. Crouched in front of her sex. Fingering myself. My bride. White beautiful hair draped over her gorgeous robe of sailing dragons. Licking. Pleasing her with my nose and tongue. I would always service her and cum for her. My wet sex. Humping my hand. Serving her. Submitting. Her slave. Sinking into her beautiful voice. Kill for her. The chorus of beatific voices. A cathedral of voices telling me how to die. Soon the broken dreams would be whole—

“Heather? Is it time?”

I looked at Corelle confused. Hadn’t I taken off her eye patch? Then I glanced at my watch. “Almost.”

“Who told you to I had to die?” She watched me closely.

My knee still worked between her legs, her soaked mat of bush under her skirt made me feel safe and powerful. She wanted me. “The Salamander.” Yes. That was what I was supposed to say. I worked her crotch with my knee.

Corelle’s face gained power and her emerald eye froze with fury at the spoken name.

Evelyn. I glanced as Evelyn moved quickly passed us. She picked up the blazer from the floor and my purse from the couch and grabbed the micro-recorder off the table. At the run, she dashed out of the room. I heard water running. Her voice shouted at us from two rooms away, “I’m guessing the recorder is a bomb.”

The tub. She was drowning my tape recorder and purse. I laughed and did not know why.

Corelle came up from the chair as if surrounded in a crackling volume of invisible energy. My leg was pushed from under her skirt. Her hand twined in my hair. Her face inches from mine. She used her other hand to tear off the eye patch.

Mygodinheaven, the heat burned through the frozen amber—

—Needles melting. Dancing in my hot flesh. Sharp points vaporizing. Amber eyes burned. Frozen eyes melting. Fury. Shameless. Agony banished. Obedience found. Arousal released. Warning given. Death. My hot liquid sex. My mind penetrated and raised up. My fingers crushing my hot pussy lips. So damned hot. Pleasure. Worshipping her beautiful auburn bush. Her eye. My hot legs opening for her hand. Crouched in front of her. Riding her knee. Fingering her. My tormentor with white hair draped over her gorgeous robe of sailing dragons. Sweating. Pleased now by Corelle and her knee. Crouched over her leg and riding the pleasure. My slick hot cunt. Humping. Bending to her. Submitting. Her slave. Sinking into her beautiful eye. Tell her. The chorus of angry voices. A cathedral of demons telling me how to die. The broken dreams forced into daylight—

“Heather?”

I looked at D’Amber. I had forgotten the next question.

“Are you feeling better?”

I slowly ran my fingers back through my hair trying to remember. Bomb! I turned around quickly and reached for the briefcase. Evelyn was there in a heartbeat helping me. Her strong hands clutched the leather case and tore it from my grasp.

Then she was sprinting across the room. She vanished through the door. Corelle grabbed me from behind and forced me down on the floor.

I orgasmed. Her strong hand on the back of my neck pushing my face into the carpet made me cum. I gasped with the outrage and remembered the Needle Dance like an out-of-focus nightmare.

Husband. I remembered Todd and started to cry. The tub water rushed louder in the other room. Then Evelyn was back and threw herself on top of both of us on the floor.

The room jumped under us.

Then I fought down an attack of nausea. We all lay there for several moments. I smelled the three of us. Sweat. Excitement. A soft musky aroma that relaxed me crept around my face while I realized that Corelle was stroking my neck.

I loved my husband Todd. I felt savored by Corelle D’Amber. I was alive. I shifted slightly and kissed Corelle on the lips and felt her tongue enter my mouth.

“Thank you, Heather,” she whispered breaking the kiss.

Her voice was plain and harsh and wonderful. I wanted to make her smile and be her sassy little slave. I wanted to hear her terribly plain voice again. The chorus was gone.

“Is it possible to have cheap meaningless sex with you or do I have to become your fucktoy in order to be considered?” I swallowed and blushed, amazed at my sudden elation and guts.

Evelyn started laughing. I could feel her belly laughs somewhere on top of Corelle. Then Corelle chuckled. “Which would you prefer, Heather?”

I felt warm and wet with making them both laugh. I groaned with lust flaming between my legs and whispered, “I wish to be your new fucktoy, Corelle.”

END