The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Rick Summer sat with his feet propped up on his battered desktop, hands behind his neck, as he leant back in his comfortable old Vinyl-covered armchair, and stared at the Vid-screen, that took up most of the opposite wall of his small, dilapidated office, in the rundown Madison Building, in downtown Frisco. The digital, solar-powered desk clock/calendar read, October 15, 2037. The time was 2:33 pm.

He was currently reading the front page story from the ‘Frisco Daily News’, courtesy of the Word Wide Web, and a hefty subscription:

Another Young Girl Disappears From the Greater Frisco Conurbation!

Police today confirmed the disappearance of Ms. Donna Powers, aged twenty-four, sometime between 3:00 pm and 5:00 pm, yesterday afternoon, whilst she was out shopping in the Carnegie Drive area of the city. This was despite the fact that every citizen under the age of thirty-five, should have had an electronic ID chip surgically implanted at birth, and so it should be physically impossible for anyone to just disappear off the map, without the National Police Monitoring Agency, instantly knowing about it?

Ms. Powers is Caucasian, a natural-born female, 1.67 Meters tall, with short, auburn hair, and a fuller figure, weighing in at approximately 76 Kilograms. She was last seen wearing a loose fitting, bright pink shellsuit and Nike trainers, and was carrying two carrier bags full of groceries, at the time of her mysterious, inexplicable disappearance!

Anyone knowing anything about the possible whereabouts of Ms. Powers, or who may have seen her leaving the Carnegie Drive Shopping Mall with anyone, should e-mail or voice-fax their local Constabulary Outpost, as a matter of utmost urgency!

Rick picked up the infra-red remote control handset, pointed it at the Vid-screen and clicked the laser cursor on the highlighted words ‘Donna Powers’. Immediately a window containing a colored digitized photograph of the missing female, complete with a detailed description and mini-biography, zoomed out, to almost fill the Vid-screen.

“God, she sure is an ugly bitch!” Rick muttered, peering at the digipic. “She certainly ain’t been abducted for her good looks!” Ms. Powers certainly was a particularly plain looking girl, rather on the obese side. Rick pointed the cursor at the photo, and clicked again, and the window shrank back into nothingness! He continued reading the main article:

Assistant Police Commissioner Rodriguez has asked the populous to remain calm, even though this is the forty-seventh female, aged between twenty and twenty-five, to have disappeared from the Bay area, during the past four months. Apart from their age and gender, the only thing to connect all of these disappearances, is the fact that their I.D. transmission signals have terminated, in all cases! No corpses have yet surfaced and, so far, our boys in blue do not seem to have a clue as to the whereabouts of any of these missing citizens!

Distraught parents and relatives have been besieging the City Hall, Web pages and e-mail addresses, demanding urgent action to locate their missing loved ones!

Rick settled his battered old Fedora hat over his perspiring brow, and popped another Cashew nut into his mouth. He was the same age as the Powers dame, but of course, he wasn’t female, and he had no intention of having a sex-change operation, despite it being the current vogue! It was far too expensive, for a start, and, anyway, he was quite happy being a guy!

Rick was 1.75 Meters tall (approximately five-feet nine-inches), black-haired, and weighed just over 70 Kilos, with broad shoulders and narrow hips. He face was covered with the currently fashionable designer stubble, and a droopy black moustache clung to his upper lip. He was not what you would call totally unattractive to members of the opposite sex! He scratched his chin, and stifled a long yawn.

The rest of the article was mainly comprised of an interview with the girl’s aged parents, and some more background information on Donna.

He was a little annoyed that none of the relatives had, so far, asked for his help, in locating their missing girls! Still, he mainly specialized in industrial espionage cases these days, so they may have gone to another private dick? He belched, and took another swig from his half-empty can of Coca-Cola. It was getting warm and tepid, and the damned air-conditioning unit had broken down again. “I haven’t had a single new case in over two weeks now,” he muttered, aloud, “and the rent on this flea-pit is long overdue!”

He was just contemplating switching to the sports pages, to find out how the ‘Dodgers’ were doing, when an annoying beeping sound commenced, and a small Vid-phone icon appeared, and started blinking, in the lower right corner of the Vid-screen.

“Shit, the Batphone!” he exclaimed, sitting bolt upright, and clicking the laser cursor on the phone icon, with practiced ease.

Immediately, a picture of a grey-haired, distinguished looking old guy appeared, sitting behind a large mahogany desk, in what looked like some sort of private study. Rick was suitably impressed. Anyone who could afford a real wooden desk these days, and a mahogany one at that, by the look of it, had to be worth a bunch of credits!

The man looked into his own Vid-screen, seeing Rick’s image peering back from it, questioningly, and his eyes lit up. “Ah, Summer, glad I caught you in your office!” he boomed. “I’ve got an urgent piece of industrial detective work for you, and I can make it well worth your while!‘’

Rick sat up straighter, tilted his Fedora further back on his brow, and tried to keep the avaricious gleam out of his eye. “I’m, ah, pretty busy at the moment, Mr... What did you say your name was?”

The man smiled. “Arnold Scrooge!” he replied. “And I just happen to know that you have very little in your casebook, at this present time, Mr. Summer! Business isn’t exactly booming, is it?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry about that, automatic reaction!” Rick blustered, trying to look suitably contrite. “So, what’s this investigation you want me to undertake, Mr. Scrooge? Rick Summer don’t come cheap!”

“I’m afraid the project is far to delicate a matter for me to discuss over an open phone connection, Mr. Summer. Please come over to my place, as soon as is convenient! I only live just outside the city boundaries.”

“How will I find you, Sir?”

“You will find a map, and full instructions on how to get to my mansion, appended to the end of this transmission, Mr. Summer! I would like you to come over this evening, say about seven o’clock, if that is at all possible?”

“Yeah, okay Mr. Scrooge, I’ll be there! Just as long as you ain’t jerkin’ me around? I wouldn’t want you to live up to your namesake, the guy that Charles Dickens wrote about?”

Scrooge chuckled, then reached over and switched off the phone link.

Rick stared at the screen, blinking away the after-image. “Is this guy for real?” he wondered. He shrugged his shoulders. “Still, what have I got to loose?”

He called the map up, on screen, along with the directions on how to get to Scrooge’s place. The guy had a secluded villa, up on Canyon drive. Only the very wealthy lived in that particular neighborhood. “Arnold Scrooge?” he mused, with a frown. “That name seems to ring a bell?”

He immediately initiated a computer search, using the name ‘Arnold Scrooge’.

“Arnold Scrooge,” a computerized, female voice intoned, as the data simultaneously appeared on the Vid-screen, “President and founder member of the board of ‘Droids ‘R’ Us’, currently one of the three most quoted companies on the U.S. stock exchange, along with....”

“Enough, enough!” muttered Rick, ending the transmission with a flick of the cursor. “So, he’s THE Arnie Scrooge?” he murmured. “Probably one of the ten richest people in the world today?” This information cheered him up no end. “This could be your lucky day, Summer?” he chortled, rubbing his hands together, avariciously.

How erroneous subsequent events would prove him to be!