The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“And that, class, concludes our lesson for today,” Melissa Addison said, just as the school bell rang. “Don’t forget, your English papers are due first thing on Monday!” she yelled over the roar of the third graders packing up to leave for their weekend. Melissa sighed, shaking her head as her students rushed by, eager to put their schoolwork behind then and concentrate on having fun.

Sometimes I wish I were still that young, she thought almost wistfully, so full of energy, and not a care in the world.

Packing away her teaching manuals and notes, she went to her car and drove back home to her small apartment. She sighed wearily, kicking off her shoes, walking barefoot across the thick shag carpet over to her couch, on which she dropped gratefully. She loved children, and had always dreamed of becoming a teacher. As a teenager, she’d spent most of her summers babysitting to get extra money. After college, she’d been lucky enough to not only find a teaching job right away, she’d landed the job teaching at her former elementary school. Still, as much as she enjoyed what she did for a living, she had to admit that she looked forward to the weekend as much as her students did.

At age of twenty-six, Mel was still very young, and beautiful. Standing about five foot eight, with her olive complexion, bright blue eyes in a cute pixyish face, and hair the color of honey, she definitely turned heads. Yet, she currently had no boyfriend, and no prospects for one in the near future. Sure, she’d dated a lot in high school and in college, and could claim without boasting that she was indeed ‘a great lay’, but ever since she’d started teaching her social life had completely dried up.

And another Friday night spent grading papers and watching the Sci-Fi channel, she thought glumly, scrolling through the TV guide. What in the world happened to me? I used to party with the best of them! Now I can’t remember the last time I left the apartment to go anywhere other than work or the store! God... when did I turn into my mother? Turning off the TV, she rose to her feet.

“That does it. I refuse to be ‘old’ at twenty-six!” she said aloud. “I’m not staying home this weekend. I’m going clubbing. These papers can wait till next week.” Smiling, she walked into her bedroom to see what she had clean hanging up in the closet.

She was still trying to decide a few minutes later when a familiar sound rang out from the living room. Grumbling aloud, she headed back out, and pulled her cell phone from inside her purse where she’d left it. She groaned inwardly as she answered. “Hi, mom. How’s it going? What? Yes, I’m doing alright. I... no, mom, I told you, I’m doing fine. I don’t have a cold.” She sighed wearily. “No, my voice always sounds this way. Yes, mom... I’m sorry I haven’t called you in a while. I’ve just been busy with work. You know, grading papers, reading reports, that sort of thing.” Picking up a magazine, she held it up the cell, flipping through the pages, “See? Really heavy work load this weekend, mom... oh, mom, no, you don’t have to apologize. Well... no, not really. You’re not interrupting... oh, okay. Well, we can talk later. I’ll call you back on Sunday. I should be done by then, and we can talk all day if you want. Okay? Good. Alright. Tell Daddy I said ‘hi’ and that I love him. Bye!”

Melissa sighed deeply. She hated lying to her mother, but if she hadn’t convinced the woman that she was busy with her work, she would have talked her ear off for the better part of two hours, just chatting. She had already planned to call her parents on Sunday anyway, and, as she DID have a stack of papers to grade, she wasn’t technically lying. Besides, this was the first time she’d gone out for a night on the town in ages, and the thought of all the fun she would have helped assuage her guilt.

Her cell phone rang again, and she cringed, thinking that her mom had forgotten something and called her back. She frowned, glancing down at the caller ID listing. Hmmm? I don’t recognize that number at all... but I suppose I should see who it is. Flipping open her cell, she answered. “Hello? This is Melissa.”

“Pawn to Queen six.”

Immediately Melissa shuddered, her eyes going wide and glassy as her mind blanked. “Yes, I’m ready,” she said in a soft breathy monotone. The voice on the other side of the phone began to speak, and she listened intently, letting her instructions fill the empty space within her mind. Afterwards, she hung up, tossed her cell onto the counter, and returned to her bedroom closet. Pushing aside her clothes, she slid her hand along the wall until she found a small hidden catch, then pressed it, opening up a small panel. Retrieving a slinky scarlet dress, and a small matching purse, she stripped out of her clothes and headed into the shower.

Mmmm... need to hurry up and get ready, she thought dimly, a smile creeping across her face. I have a hot date tonight!

“So, Manny turns around and says, ‘That ain’t a fucking horse, that’s my fucking wife!’”

The group of men break into laughter, some slapping the table lightly in their merriment. Finally, an older gentleman stands up. “That’s great, Paulie, just great. Now then, since everyone seems to be here, I guess we can commence with the festivities. Ladies and gentlemen... and with this crowd, I use the term loosely,” he added, causing a few quiet snickers, “I’d like to unveil to you all, the ‘Pièce de résistance’ if you will. Carmine, if you please!”

The tall man on the far wall turned off the lights. For a moment, the entire room was shrouded in darkness, then suddenly, in the center of the room, a flash of light burst from a large display case rising up from the floor. At the same time, the curtains in the far wall opened, showing a stretch of the Las Vegas skyline a few thousand feet away. A tall building, identical to the model in the center of the room, lit up, its bright neon sign coming to life. “I present to you all, the Carlioni Casino and Hotel. This baby puts the Bellagio and the MGM one to shame. Five years of hard work, harder negotiations, and a little head cracking, and this is the end result. Everyone in this room helped to make it happen, but there’s one person in particular without which this project couldn’t have succeeded—Frank Buscemi. Frankie, get yer ass up here and take a bow!”

Encouraged by the thunderous applause, a large burly black haired man rose to his feet, walking in front of the group of men. “Hey, thanks, Sylvio. What can I say? I had a lot of good people backing me up. Paulie, Richie, Eddie, Jackie... this is their moment as much as my own. Not to mention all the generous support we received from the ‘family’. This one is a victory for all of us!” Again, a round of applause sounded.

“Alright, alright,” Sylvio Carlioni said with a grin. “Enough of patting ourselves on the back. We now own one of the most posh and elegant casinos in the entire state. What say we all go down and enjoy the fruits of our labors?” With that, the gentlemen and their escorts made their way outside and over to the new building. Sylvio let out a soft sigh, content to watch his people enjoying themselves, content to put the ‘business’ part of their daily lives on hold for a while and simply have fun.

“Well, what do you think, baby?” Sylvio said after a moment, staring out through the window.

Melissa shrugged noncommittally, snapping her bubble gum loudly. “Looks okay, I guess. It’s a big building.”

The elderly Mafioso sighed, shaking his head. “Geez Louise, Mellie, you could at least PRETENT to give a flying fuck. Didn’t you hear the speech? Out there is five years of my life, my blood sweat and tears! Do you have any idea how hard it is to do something this big in a town where all the other families have already staked their claim on just about everything? Geez... what does it take to impress you?”

Mellissa smiled sexily, moving close to the man easily three times her age, wrapping her arms around him. “Trust me, Syl,” she cooed sexily, wiggling her ass the way she knew he liked, “you already have more than enough of what it takes to impress me.”

The elderly gangster chuckled, reaching back to slap her on the ass. “Behave yourself, doll. We need to go and mingle a bit, spend some time with the troops. You know how it goes.”

Melissa pouted, twirling a long dark brown strand of hair around her finger. “Oh, but Syl, baby,” she whined, “you know how badly I need you! You’re always so busy hanging out with your ‘boys’ that I hardly ever get to spend time with you! And last week, you called Cyndi instead of me when you went on that trip back to the old country.”

The old man chuckled again. “Ah, so THAT’S it. You’re jealous!” He leaned down to kiss her, as even in her three inch heels she was considerably shorter than he. “Listen, doll. I promise you, I’ll walk through the lobby once, speak to everyone, make sure they’re enjoying themselves, then it’s up to the penthouse suite. Okay?”

Melissa brightened visibly. “Oh goodie! I can hardly wait!”

“Room service.”

Melissa slipped out of bed, immediately, wrapping a robe around herself. “I’ll get it, Syl baby,” she said with a Cheshire cat grin. “You just keep my place warm.”

“No problem, doll,” he said, wiping the sweat from his brow. “I need a moment to recuperate anyway.”

Grabbing her purse from the nightstand, she pulled out a small clear glass vial and a few dollars and tipped the waiter. “Thanks, I’ll push the cart back outside when we’re done.”

“Of course. Thank you ma’am,” the bellhop nodded, then glanced down at the bill in his hand. His eyes widened. “Th... thank you ma’am!” he said enthusiastically. “And if there’s anything else you need, just call!”

Smiling, she waited until the door closed, then pushed the tray the rest of the way into the suite, palming the tiny vial, keeping it hidden. She popped the cork on the champagne, and then poured drinks for herself and her lover.

“So, how much did you tip the kid?” Sylvio asked, sitting up in bed, now clothed in a robe. “The way he sounded when he left it must have been more than a twenty.”

“I gave him a hundred,” Melissa replied, handing him a glass. “No big deal. You spoil me, and this is a special occasion.”

“Or really?” he said, taking the glass, drinking deeply. “So suddenly the opening of this casino means something to you after all?”

Melissa laughed. “Oh, no, silly. I told you before, I don’t care about some stupid casino opening. We’re celebrating something else entirely.” She drank deeply from her glass. “Mmmmm. Delicious. Must be a really good year.”

“Hey, doll, can we focus for a bit here. What exactly are we... we... celebrating her... uuuuhhhhhhnnn OHH! AAHHHH! My chest... ah shit! My chest... feels like I’ve been... stabbed... in the heart!”

“We’re celebrating your retirement, Syl,” Melissa replied calmly, lowering her own glass. “And we’re talking the permanent kind.” Opening a tray, she began calmly eating from the prepared food, completely ignoring the old man writhing and clutching at his chest behind her on the bed. “You see, Sylvio, it did take a lot to get your family set up here in Vegas, to open a casino like this here free and clear in a place where, let’s see, how did you put it earlier? ‘Where every other family has already staked their claim’.” Picking up an oyster shell between two dainty fingers, she slurped it off, then tossed the shell back onto the tray. “You pissed off a lot of people Sylvio. Stepped on a lot of toes. Did you really think you could make such a major move like this without suffering reprisals?”

Sylvio still gasping, one hand clutching tightly at his heaving chest, reached out, trying to reach the phone. Melissa merely leaned over and pushed it a few inches out of reach then continued eating. “You... bitch... I’ll see you... in hell... for this...” he rasped, his voice distorted in pain.

“Still making threats even with your last breath, eh, Sylvio?” Melissa said, losing all trace of her thick New Jersey accent. “Get real. This isn’t my first rodeo. The liquid I slipped into your drink is virtually untraceable. When they pull your wretched old carcass in to do an autopsy, all they’ll find is what we wanted them to find: a simple heart attack. It’ll look like some dirty old man simply bit off more than he could chew with some high priced hooker and went into cardiac arrest.” She wiped her mouth daintily with her napkin, then turned to face him. “No one will suspect what really happened here, Syl. Your boys won’t avenge you. Hell, they’ll probably be too busy arguing over who gets to take your place as top of the heap to even come to your funeral.” She shook her head in mock sadness.

“You were a dirty, rotten, bottom feeder, a sadistic criminal without even a concept of the word ‘honor’ let alone its meaning. You were scum, wiped off and dressed up in an expensive Italian suit, but still scum. Still, all things considered, I have to admit, you were actually pretty good in bed.”

Sylvio continued to moan and groan, one hand clutching at his chest hard enough to whiten his knuckles. Then, finally, he seized, going stiff, gasped loudly, then went still. Melissa leaned forward, placing an ear to his chest, then felt his wrist, checking for a pulse. Once she was satisfied, she picked up the hotel phone and dialed 911.

“Hello! Hello! Please! Help me!!” Melissa sobbed into the receiver, sending panic into her voice. “You have to send someone! Send someone now! He’s having a heart attack! Please! We’re at the new Carlioni Casino Plaza, at the penthouse! And hurry, please!” Hanging up, taking a moment to compose herself, Melissa then dialed Frankie’s cell.

“Oh God, Frankie!” she said tearfully, her voice full of fear and sadness. “Frankie, you... you gotta come up here! It’s.... it’s Syl. He... on, Frankie, he’s having a heart attack!”

“What!?! Oh shit!” Frank’s voice replied, full of the panic he’d perceived from the call girl. “Shit! This is bad. Alright... try and stay calm, alright? Lemme think... okay! We need to get an ambulance down here, like pronto! I’ll call 911 and have them send someone...”

“I already did,” Melissa sobbed, hiccupping slightly. “I called them first, then I called you. Oh, fuck, Frankie, he’s... he’s not moving! Oh shit! What the fuck do i do now?!?”

“SHIT!” Frankie yelled, huffing and puffing. “Damn, can’t this elevator move any faster? Hang on, Millie, I’m on my way up now. You have to give him CPR till I can get there.”

“CPR?!?” Melissa yelled back. “I’m a FUCKING escort, Frankie! What the HELL do I know about C P Fucking R?”

“CALM DOWN, DAMMIT!” Frankie roared. “Sorry. But I need you to stay calm here. We’re in a very precarious situation here. If any of those guys downstairs figure out what’s going on up here, it’ll be pandemonium! I need you to keep your head, coppice?”

“Okay, Frankie,” Melissa said, smiling evilly. “Anything you say. I’ll leave it all up to you.”

Melissa stood outside the massive building, leaning against a wall, watching the procession as the paramedics wheeled Sylvio’s body into the back of the ambulance. The group of high level mafia bosses stood off to the side, talking amongst themselves, but Melissa paid them no mind. Frankie had managed to make everyone believe Sylvio was in bad shape but still alive, for the moment. A shrewd thinker, Frankie had convinced the paramedics to put on a big show, making it seem as if they were fighting to keep him alive. No doubt, they’d received a hefty sum of money, both for the acting, and for their continued silence of the facts.

At the moment, Frankie stood off to the side, whispering to his lieutenants, Paulie and Richie, making a point not to look in her direction. Melissa smirked. Shrewd thinker, Frankie, but very predictable. If you’re planning to make your temporary promotion to boss permanent without anyone trying to challenge you, you need to make sure that everyone that knows that Syl’s already dead follows him. That means that ‘Mellie’, the sexy but naive little call girl, is going to have to ‘disappear’. No problem. Mellie doesn’t really exist, and I was planning to vanish soon as this job was complete anyway. Looks like I’ll now have to arrange it so that the two of them vanish along with me.

“Hey, Mellie,” Paulie said, walking up to her. “C’mon. Richie and I are taking you back home. We need to get you out of here, before anyone starts asking you a lot of questions. Besides, after all you’ve just been through, you look like you could use a bit of a rest.”

“Thanks, Paulie,” she said with a sniff, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “You’re a real gentleman.”

In the car, they made small talk, as Richie drove them along the strip, heading towards the desert. Melissa laughed, chatting with the boys, even as she kept a close track on their location. At one point, she noticed Paulie reach into his jacket pocket, keeping his hand hidden behind the jacket lining. She smiled, feeling a familiar wetness between her thighs. Any moment now, she thought, excited, barely able to contain her arousal.

“Speaking of animals,” Paulie said, still grinning, “what is that over there?”

“Where?” Mellie asked, turning to look out the window. Her senses primed, alert, she felt rather than heard Paulie move. She twisted to the side, pressing herself up against the back of the driver’s seat just as he fired. The bullet zipped past silently, tearing through the spot she’d occupied less than a second earlier, leaving a bullet hole in the car door. In an instant, she returned fire, pulling the trigger of her silencer-equipped M9, still hidden in her purse. Her shot scored a hit, striking him right between the eyes. Slumping down, she slid back into the seat, tossing away her purse and bringing the gun up to the back of Richie’s head.

“What the fuck?!?” the startled driver yelped, nearly losing control of the car. “What the hell is this?”

“Stop the car, Richie,” ‘Mellie’ said calmly, making a point of cocking the pistol. “I’d rather not have to shoot you in the back of the head.”

“Okay, okay... geez... calm down, alright. I’m stopping the car.” Richie put on the brakes, bringing the car to a slow gentle stop. “Alright. We’re stopped.”

“Thank you,” Melissa replied, pulling the trigger. Once both men were dead, she sighed, lowering the gun. Her thighs clenched tight, and she bit her lip hard to keep from crying out as a massive orgasm ripped through her. Her vision dimmed slightly, and she panted deeply, holding on to the edge of the seat for support.

Wow... that was... ohhh fuck... I know I was conditioned with a fear-pleasure response during my training, to keep me from losing control during a mission... but I’ve never had a response like that before! Glancing down at the door, she rubbed a finger over the bullet hole and shivered, feeling her wetness start to flow again. Mmmmm. Guess I did cut this one a little closer than usual.

Stepping out of the car, she glanced around at her surroundings. Opening the trunk, she took out the pick and shovels, shaking her head. “A bit cliché, I suppose. I almost expect to hear that mood music from ‘The Godfather’ playing in the background... or at least the theme from ‘The Sopranos’. Oh well,” she shrugged, taking the pick into her hands, “it’s always better to be the one doing the burying than the one being buried.”

Melissa yawned stretching wearily. Her head felt thick and fuzzy, as if her brain had been replaced with wet wool. She sat up, then groaned, immediately closing her eyes, clutching her head. “UUhhhnnn... damn. What a hangover.” She managed to peel her eyelids open after a few more minutes, then sighed. She glanced at the clock. “Five-thirty AM? Crap... how can it be Monday morning already?” She sat up again, forcing herself out of bed. She groaned again, then hissed, biting her lip to keep from cursing as she grabbed at her bare foot, falling back onto the bed.

“Stupid wine bottle,” she mumbled, rubbing her stubbed toes. She sighed deeply, feeling depressed. Another weekend spent alone, watching TV, drinking wine, and grading papers. God, I need a life. Making her way into the bathroom, she slipped into the shower and turned on the water. She winced slightly as she rubbed the area between her thighs. For a moment she questioned how she could possibly be sore there when she hadn’t had sex in months, but her programming instantly filled in the gap, and she sighed again.

Hmmm. Went a little overboard with Mr. Vibrator last night. That reminds me, I need to pick up some new batteries for ‘him’ on the way home.

Half an hour later, driving along the Kansas City highway, heading to her job, she contemplated her boring humdrum existence. Okay. So, life as a school teacher in the great Midwest isn’t filled with the excitement and danger of the major cities. No big crimes, certainly no murders here. And I hate to admit it, but after spending four years of Columbia University in New York, it is kinda nice being back someplace ‘sane’ again. The kids are great, and I love what I do. I really do. She sighed wistfully as she pulled into her parking spot.

I just wish I could have an actual adventure once in a while. Something with a little excitement.