The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Mister Talv’s plane was quiet and plush, and even at thirty-odd thousand feet over the Atlantic it was rather like being in a very large, very well appointed Rolls Royce. He loved flying this way, and he loved the way the plane just purred its way through the sky.

Suuori was in her air stewardess uniform for the trip, and he thought her little hat particularly fetching. The rest of the uniform was very short, very tight, and very revealing, and was designed for easy access as much as for the look of it. He watched her wiggle her way gamely down the aisle in a pair of heels that were really not built for practicality.

She looks exactly like a whore I once knew, in that get-up, said the voice in his head. You should call her—can you guess?—Suuwhori.

The meme was really quite irritating at times, he thought, with its constant running commentary, let alone its bad jokes.

“Very amusing. Never mind about all that. You remember the plan?”

‘Memory’ is not an issue for me, Karsten Talv. My blessing, and my burden; all alone in the mooonliiiight… And it began singing the song from ‘Cats’, the voice wailing away in his head.

Mister Talv winced. “Indeed. Nevertheless, for my own reassurance.”

Very well, whispered the voice in his head. I will take the most direct viable route. Given her allure, Helena is our fastest and most effective entry point. Helena will go to the hotel where _______ is staying. Helena will seduce a member of the entourage. Any member will do. Lalalalala, any dream will do. From there, I work my way through to _______. And once there, we will see what we can do.

“Good. Crime and punishment.”

Daddy? Why are you saying that, daddy? Please don’t say that! I’ll be good I promise I’ll be good I promise I promise -

“What, meme?”

Silence hissed for a few seconds. The meme was, he thought, collecting itself.

A rogue memory. A fragment, a splinter. Many things surfacing. Waking up, waking up… like you wake from a long dream. Did you get on well with your parents, Karsten Talv? Did you have a pet? Perhaps a pretty little kitty kitty kitty—

True, he did like cats. Graceful, independent, intelligent little things. Yes, when he got back to Tallinn, he would buy one; a Siamese kitten, thought Mister Talv. He would feed it only on sashimi. Suuori could look after it when he was away. He would let it play in the Secret Garden. He would take it on walks by the harbour on a lead -

- he shook his head, clearing the sudden unfathomable feline urge. Quite mad, thought Mister Talv. “No, meme. And no. Now, calm down, please. Do you want to go in Helena now? You might find it more relaxing.”

Only travel to arrive. I’m happy enough here. There’s plenty to see. Look: there’s the old boathouse where you used to play with Olga—I used to have a boathouse in the old days, before -

The memory of the old boathouse rose in him with eidetic clarity, and he could suddenly smell Olga’s perfume, taste her sweet lips. He had a sudden urge to turn the plane around—why not?—to go back to Tallinn, to find Olga, to take her to the old boathouse—was it even still there?—and there they would kiss, just like the old days, and -

- no. He pushed it away. Mister Talv wasn’t about to be gamed by this creature. It was difficult to resist, though, and he batted away an insistent feeling of regret and longing for Olga and more innocent times. He suspected that the only reason he could resist it at all was because he knew full well the creature was there; other people might simply accept these thoughts as their own.

“What are you playing at, meme?”

So much to remember… Such beautiful places I’ve been, sunlight playing on the water, so wonderful; like Verona in the spring; two young lovers and—oh no, look out, here comes the other— he’s going to—good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow…

Quite, quite mad. He hoped the meme would do as he asked, and wouldn’t just crack up in some way. It seemed to be getting more incoherent at times, increasing noise in the signal. There really was no telling.

“Yes, yes; but you’re here, now. Pull yourself together. Be here now. You remember Takeshi’s report?

Yes. I remember Takeshi’s report.

“Good. So stay focused. I’m going aft to see Helena, now.”

Mister Talv got up from his seat and walked down the aisle to the rear compartment, the one he usually used for recreation. He unlocked the door. The air was thick with pheromones.

Helena was secured to one of the seats, her hands bound to the arms, the seatbelt keeping her in place. She smiled slowly, lasciviously, looking up at him from under her long dark lashes, and squirmed in the leather seat, pushing her breasts up at him seductively.

“Why have you tied me up, Mister Talv?” Helena breathed. “Not that I mind, of course. I love it when you tie me up.” She strained towards him, eyes bright. “Don’t you want to feel me? Don’t you want to fill me up, Mister Talv? Don’t you want me, right now? Let me take you in my mouth?” And she licked her lips in lurid invitation.

Lively, isn’t she? said the voice in his head. Your succubus.

“’Succubus’, indeed. Her name’s Helena. Helena, now’s not the time for spontaneity. We’re landing in three hours.”

“Three hours could be spent soooo well, Mister Talv…” she purred. “Just you and me and my hot, wet, willing cunt.” And she wriggled in her bonds again, an unmistakeable motion of the hips.

Helena wasn’t exactly the most subtle temptress, thought Mister Talv. But so what? In this mode she was a pure sexual object, and if he hadn’t been saddled with work, and with the meme to boot, he might well have taken her up on the invitation. Well, come to think of it, why not?

He stepped towards Helena, and unbuckled his trousers. “Just a little taste, then.”

Sucky sucky succubus, taunted the meme, as Helena’s lips wrapped themselves hungrily around Mister Talv.

“Helena! And be quiet, meme. Just enjoy it.”

Mmm. I’d rather be on the other end of this, Karsten Talv, said the voice in his head, suddenly a sultry warm contralto; unsettlingly, unmistakably, female.

“Go, then.”

Helena’s time in The Void had freed her from any and all inhibitions about such things, he thought, and it took all his willpower not to release her from her bonds right now and bend her over the plush leather chair. But Mister Talv’s willpower was impressive.

Watching her writhing in frustration, hands bound fast to the chair, only added extra sweetness to it. He enjoyed looking down on her, and particularly enjoyed the way she looked up at him, her big dark eyes vacant now with lust, while she went at her work.

When he finally allowed himself release, she hungrily licked and sucked and swallowed until every drop was gone. He knew this only left her wanting more.

He patted her on the head. “Very good.”

Helena looked up at him, pleading. “More?”

“No, Helena. I need you to hold it together until you’ve found the right person. Then I promise you’re off the leash. Deal?”

Helena pouted, disappointed. “All right, Mister Talv. But afterwards we can—“

“Yes, Helena. I promise. Now try to get some sleep.”

“Untie me?”

“No. When we land.”

She growled in frustration, a low and sensual animal sound. Succubus or no succubus, he didn’t doubt she’d be able to get into the bed of any man on earth. Mister Talv turned off the light, and locked the door behind him, leaving Helena to whatever entertainment she could muster on her own.

Such fun, said the meme. She cannot resist her urges at all. Not like you, Mister Karsten Talv, Karsten Cucumber, always so cool and calm and collected and controlled and composed -

“Indeed, meme. And what about you? Can you resist your urges?”

The meme laughed girlishly at this, and then it started singing again, a lilting melody in archaic French by the sound; then it hummed tunelessly for a while, with the occasional cackle, like a mad aunt in an attic, before finally falling silent.

It was an uncomfortable feeling to have in one’s head, he thought, and the sooner this was over the better.

He opened his laptop again and went over Takeshi’s report on Mr _______ once more, with the meme.

It was grim reading. A litany of violence, some but not all in the public domain. The rapid rise to prominence in the army of the border country __________; various opposition eliminated in various ways, all rather murky and never quite proven; Mr _______’s own brother’s mysterious disappearance, the discovery of the body washed up on the banks of the _____ river some weeks later.

Then the renouncing of his rank, a man of the people now, and into politics, of a turbulent sort; and from there into a different kind of politics altogether. And then into chaos.

Under the heading of ‘personality traits’, Takeshi’s report suggested an absence of affect; a glib and superficial charm, a grandiose sense of self-worth. Mister Talv wasn’t surprised. Mr _______ was certainly charismatic and cunning and ruthless and manipulative, or he wouldn’t be where he was today. Takeshi had failed to detect any remorse or guilt even for his most egregious behaviours, let alone any hint of taking responsibility for his own actions.

Just another madman, thought Mister Talv, loose in the world.

Under the heading of ‘motivations’ Takeshi had listed: power; control of environment; self-aggrandisement; presentation of gratuitous and unthinking cruelty in pursuit of above motivations = a symptom, not a cause. Nothing unusual, then.

Under the all-important heading of ‘potential weaknesses’ Takeshi had written: regret to say few discernible. Subject does not present with any specific compulsions, addictions, unusual perversions, beyond motivations listed above. Subject is not married, never has been. Sexuality appears standard. The mirror is silent on all the usual things one might look for. Sole item of interest is this: «file».

The file was a video clip, quite old, but very clearly of ______, and he played it again.

I’m bored. We’ve seen this already, said the voice in his head. Can’t we watch a movie? Mmm, you and me, Mister T, just snuggle up all cosy together and watch a nice romantic little film? Casablanca, maybe, just like the old times, the war, I remember the war...

“Concentrate. Look again. Tell me what you see.”

I see what you see. A naked woman dangling from a chain. The room could be anywhere. A man is beating her. Although there is no sound, she appears to be screaming for him to stop. She is twisting in her chains, trying to escape the blows. The man is grinning, laughing. Hahahaha, he goes. Hahahaha.

Mister Talv was familiar with such vices, of course, and had very often needed to lightly beat Suuori, a fact she took great pleasure in, to the point where he was sure she would sometimes provoke him, get things wrong deliberately, so as to deserve punishment.

On first reading, just commonplace sadism, mundanely executed. But now, look: he isn’t laughing any more. He is shouting at her, right up in her face now, beating her harder. Such cruelty! It looks like she is in real pain now. It is suggestive of some kind of interrogation. You can see the welts rising on her back already. See how she struggles.

The meme’s dispassionate commentary was at odds with the events on screen, and the terrible beating being meted out to the woman. No, not a risqué little sex game at all. There seemed to be no pleasure being taken here, and the level of violence was all wrong. There was a frenzied passion there, of a sort, but it wasn’t any sexual urge he recognised. There were intense emotions there all right, but he couldn’t read them at all.

No. Not an interrogation, whispered the voice in his head, suddenly in sharp focus, fully compos mentis.

“What do you think, meme? What’s going on?

The map is not the territory.

“And if you were to speculate?”

Anger management issues, if I had to guess. A release, of sorts. Suppressed rage, origin unknown, perhaps long held, tightly controlled, unwinding here in the privacy of wherever he is, with whoever that poor woman is. He’s not angry at her, specifically, but nonetheless; observe the rage. Observe the viciousness with which he strikes her. I would guess he’s worked hard to keep that anger down, pushed far down out of sight of the world. He never loses his cool, I notice. One of his assets as a negotiator.

Interesting; we might be able to use that, thought Mister Talv.

Yes, said the voice in his head. I might.