The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Janet—who had now reverted in character to Suzie—laid out the documents in front of her editor.

“So, we were kind of right. There was a connection at the Institute, but it wasn’t the Institute itself. I managed to get chatting with one of the spa staff, and she mentioned the three Representatives had been really worried about something—someone—when they arrived. Then halfway through the stay, they received a couple of messages from outside, which seemed to make them actually angry. They locked themselves in the exec sauna for a couple of hours, and then they had clearly decided something because they seemed happier.”

“Well, that’s a start, but not much to go on,” grunted Joe. “And how did you get that out of the staff? I thought they were famously discrete there, and that they banned the traditional ‘loosener of lips’.”

Suzie smirked. “Do you really want to know how, Joe?”

“Most likely, not.” Joe popped another antacid. “So, what else?”

“I got access to the phone records and external message logs.” Joe started to ask a question then clearly changed his mind. “Recognize the source number for these messages?” She passed over a DynaDyne corporate brochure and pointed to the contact number advertised there. “And take a look at what the message suggests.”

“ ‘Sam’ professing to have made no contact with someone called Winters.” Joe chewed on his finger. “Well, if he’s denying it, he probably did it. Wait, isn’t there a colonel in Defense Procurement with that name?”

“There is, and he is pivotal in the acceptance of the DynaDyne contract.” Janet laid out bank records. “No suspicious items in his bank accounts, of course. That would be too obvious.” She pointed to the next piece of paper. “But if you look at his brother who lives way down in Florida, he came into a serious amount of money recently—several considerable payments over the space of six months. They all came from a Julie Harris, a real estate agent in Delaware.” More phone records. “Who seems to get quite frequent calls from a personal cell number that’s registered to the vice president of DynaDyne, Samuel Lewis the 3rd, of Virginia. She pointed at a second message in the Institute log. “Whose personal cell was also used to communicate with the Representatives.”

Joe peered at the second message. “Please don’t let your personal moral feelings direct us away from the greater good of an effective contract.”

“Turns out that Samuel Lewis pretends to be an upstanding citizen, loyal husband, and doting father to two kids, but he’s banging Julie Harris like a screen door in a hurricane.” Suzie showed a photo, covertly taken, showing a well-dressed man furtively exiting a Hampton Inn.

“So he’s using his mistress to make covert payoffs to Colonel Winters, presumably to grease the way for DynaDyne acceptance; the Representatives found out that something was going on, but presumably didn’t want to cause a scandal—so just dumped on DynaDyne without breaking the story.” Joe smirked. “Oh boy, this is good, Suzie. This is very good.”

“We can’t use the Institute records, obviously,” Suzie noted.

“Obviously,” Joe agreed.

“But the rest of the data is usable now we know where to look. I can talk to my friend Keith in the FBI to kick off the bank record subpoenas, we have the evidence of the affair, and that ties nicely to Samuel Lewis. And I doubt Julie Harris will go very far to protect Samuel.

“That should do it. Is there any chance of getting one of the Representatives to comment, at least on background if not the record?” Joe asked hopefully.

“There is. I’ve got one of them lined up.” Rather, the Director had done so, but Joe didn’t need to know that.

“Great! You’re way ahead of me. You’ll be in my chair before too long, Suzie.” Joe smiled at her. “You know, I think that break did you good. There’s a bit more spring in your step and more sparkle in your eye than you had before.”

“Thank you, Joe! It was actually a wonderful experience. If only they took men, you should go.”

“Ah, I’m too old for it to make a difference.” He leafed through the material. “Again, this is great. I’ve got to take it to Margaret, but I have no doubt she’ll want us to run it.”

“You know,” said Suzie thoughtfully, “the Sonoran Institute would actually be wonderful for Margaret. She needs a break.”

“She hasn’t taken a break in a year! I think the divorce took a lot out of her, and she buried herself in work. But you know, you’re right.” Joe paused. “Come on, you should join me in breaking this news to her. You deserve the credit, and I can’t see her saying ‘no’ to the exposé.” He grinned. “And maybe, just maybe, you can talk her into taking a break there, and I can have a week without her hanging on my back like some kind of vampire vulture.”

“About that cash fronting...” Suzie started, tentatively.

“Are you nuts? Five grand for a story like this? We’ll just write it off.” Joe grinned. “Might take a grand or two off your story bonus to level things out, but with all the follow-up interviews and coverage from other news outlets I doubt you’ll notice.”

“Good with me, Joe.” Suzie/Janet smiled inside. Margaret’s Connection was likely only weeks away.

The newsroom activity paused as Suzie’s story broke on national TV. Everyone focused on the newsroom TVs to see what was going on, and when Suzie’s byline was mentioned there was a roar of approval. Suzie hammed it up with exaggerated bows of acknowledgement. Joe leaned against his office door and smiled, happy for once that he could lay off the antacids for a day or two.

Suzie was pleased that the story had landed so well, but more pleased because she knew that Margaret had finally booked her first week off in over a year. There was no doubt where she was going.

“Suze! Let’s celebrate.” Irene and Yolanda from the financial desk grabbed their purses and made a beeline for their friend. “G+Ts are calling.”

“Sure—but I’ll just have the one, then I’ll switch to lime and soda. I don’t want to undo all the good from the spa, right?”

“Whatever, girl. Come on.”

The trio trotted down the street to the local bar where they had a happily raucous gossip. Yolanda tried pumping Suzie for how she’d managed to dig up the story, but Suzie just smiled and deflected. “Trade secrets, Yola. Got to keep my edge!” She was happy to give the blow-by-blow of how the FBI investigation had unfolded, however, and the story of how Samuel had been caught in his favorite Hampton Inn with his pants on the floor and his dick in his girlfriend.

After three substantial drinks, Irene needed the bathroom, and Yolanda went with her. Suzie sipped at her lime and soda and stretched out her legs, enjoying the end-of-assignment feeling and wondering what the Director might task her with next.

David, her long-term on-and-off friend from the sports desk, slid into the booth across from her with a beer in his hand.

“Well done Suze! What a scoop!”

“Thanks David. I couldn’t have done it without Joe though.” Or the Director, indeed.

“I don’t know how you keep doing it, but let me tell you I’m impressed.” He grinned. “I should get you to teach me how to do it—but maybe it’s a matter of feminine wiles?”

“Perhaps,” Suzie smirked. “Trade secrets, my friend.”

David saw Irene and Yolanda returning. “Tell you what, let me buy you dinner. There’s a good fish place around the corner that opened last month.”

Suzie shook her head, stirring her soda. “I’m sorry, David.” She fixed him with a look. “I’m just not feeling the... Connection.”