The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“The next time you surprise me in the shower, Lida . . . Uhm . . . Do it just like that.” My cheeks are burning bright red, no longer the flush silver they had been mere moments before. The moment the water was turned off and we stepped out to towel off the silver had just melted away.

Seeing it go away in a less painful fashion made the loss of it less painful though, even if it still stung to become flesh-tone girl again.

Lida laughs as she wraps me up in a big fluffy red towel and slowly dries me off. “I promise . . . And not a word I said was a lie, Lucia. If you have the spirit of a heroine, I fully expect you to indulge it. To not do so would be to deny your identity.”

A part of me can’t resist laughing, but it’s not an insulted or rude laugh. Being called Lucia and accepting it feels like denying my identity. I can’t be the chosen LaSilvas descendent. It just doesn’t fit. Plus, if the Nesatealia family really has it in for the LaSilvas family, wouldn’t Yanta have taken an extra pleasure in me?

Oh right, she did.

Never mind, carry on.

“All right, Lida. I just don’t know how to do it without having a brain popping silver bullet like I used to.” Lida wraps the towel around my forehead and ruffles up all of my hair to dry it up and I can’t help but laugh. “I promise, after dinner, maybe after today, I’ll find a way to start again from scratch. Maybe I’ll get a cape and a fedora.”

“You know I used to wear a fedora back in the forties? They were all the rage for awhile.” She pauses for just a moment, and then ruffles my hair more. “And remember, no trying to guess how old I am, and no, how I look is not an illusion.”

Slowly stepping away form her to sort through the pile of clothes I can’t help but feel very confused. “So we’re immortal witches?” Spotting the bra I slide it on and struggle to seem graceful with the afterglow and exhaustingly passionate sex still having its delicious after effects on my body and mind. “Never grow old, never die never grow a wart on the end of our noses?”

Silver eyes glaring at you is much more withering than any other color of eyes that I have ever seen. Sure, brown eyes can look almost black and therefore like a demon staring into your soul, but silver eyes could illuminate your soul and taunt ever little deficiency.

That’s going overboard, but that’s also how it feels.

“We don’t grow warts. We aren’t Disney witches any more than we are Wiccans. Accursed brats, thinking that dressing up old myths and pretending they’re ancient will do them any good . . .” Lida frowned before yawning and arching her back with her hands above her head. In a flash of silver light, her clothes had slid back up over her body, and her hair looked impeccable.

“Then will I get to live till the year three thousand and tell the brats that I remember the 1990s and have them all roll their eyes?” One of these days my mouth is going to get me killed, but all it does now is make my mom smile in a “oh Lucia” sort of way.

With a shake of her head, Lida looks at herself in the mirror. I slide on my panties and follow it with the long black pleated skirt. “Maybe! Doubtful, though. I wouldn’t hold your breath, concussions from hitting the floor too hard don’t help a girl live to be a thousand years old.”

Finally sliding on the black blouse I join Lida by the mirror and take a long look into my brown eyes and then over my clothed body.

Black. If I end up with a new uniform, it’s not going to be black. Not that I have anything against the color, I just don’t think it fits my personality. Its too simple and common.

“I don’t want to really live that long anyway! If women my age can be jaded, I’d imagine even I would be by age 1,025.” MY eyes are surrounded with little wrinkles, from stiffening them far too much and trying to put on a firm, brave face. I’m not Jaded, but just the word Jaded makes me think of the silver cell phone . . .

Lida moves behind me and starts brushing my hair in long, slow strokes of a dark lacquered black brush. It looks ornate, and if I’m seeing it right in the mirror it seems to have little flecks of silver. At first I worry she’s going to style my hair into some ancient ornate style, but all she does is make it well kept and neat. I know she could do it with a spell, but something about this feels so motherly and loving that I wouldn’t dare question it.

She even makes sure to carefully align and brush my bangs.

A part of me is disappointed I won’t be looking like a Vulcan princess, but I can deal with that. At least it won’t take me a week to get my hair the way I like it. “Lucia, being jaded just does not suit you in the least. I can see you getting bitter, maybe lonely, but not jaded. At least, as long as you stay you, little dear . . .”

My hair almost shines and a part of me reaches up to touch it just to make sure that its real. “All right . . . Then . . . Oh, there are no socks. I wanted to toss back on my sneakers.”

“Sweetheart, this is a birthday dinner for your twenty fifth year. Nylons and a nice pair of boots fits you better anyway.” Lida winks and ruffles my hair. “The boots are waiting in your room, along with the leggings. I’m going to go spend some time with Susan, get ready however you’d like, then come on out into the living room and we’ll go out and have a great time.”

She knows me so well and I’d never met her before in my life. Its not scary, its just comforting. The feeling is so mutual, too. I know this woman. A part of me is this woman. I hope that when I’m her age, I can be even more her than I am now.

As she turns the doorknob I put out my hand and smile. “Wait. Do you really think I could go back to Midas and do it right this time?”

“Lucia!” Lida steps out of the door, and prepares to close it. “The only reason you won’t succeed is if you do not attempt. You’re a LaSilvas, and my daughter. You’ll make ‘em wish they’d ran into anyone else.”

She closes the door, and the click of the metal on metal has an oddly happy feeling to it. I feel so warm and loved . . .

There’s that feeling of family again. “Thanks, mom . . .”

I don’t take very long to get ready as a rule. if I ever start taking a long time, people would come to expect it of me and frankly I’d rather be out than be preparing for being out. Maybe Lida can teach me some hocus pocus to do my nails or something, because I’m a klutz.

Plus, light still feels weird. I know I haven’t mentioned it before now, but light looks really strange when I can’t see the most intense parts as clearly. My whole concept of color is horribly thrown off.

I’m just lucky I’m not an interior decorator.

The boots Lida picked out are knee high and have nice thick heels. They’re black and match the rest of the outfit, but of course I expected that. Anything less just wouldn’t seem right for how important this is to Lida and I guess to me too.

Sooner than either of my moms thought, I step out into the living room. I don’t know if this is a healthy thought, or if that by this point matters, but catching my mothers with their tongues down each other’s throat is really hot.

The way their hair contrasts as it stretches out luxuriously is gorgeous beyond words, and Susan’s more realistic look compared to Lida’s extraordinary melodramatic look is beyond romantic.

“Uhm, hey moms! I hate to interrupt, but we have dinner plans I think?” My grin is probably far bigger than it should be, but if I was asked if I cared I would soundly say no anyway.

Susan pulls back from the kiss with a start, very lightly panting. “Sorry, I just needed a snack before we hit the road . . .”

Lida huffs, and pins Susan back against the couch. Seeing that lets me know part of why Susan and Lida get along so well. Susan wants that in a way like I do. No wonder she seemed to understand how I felt about Chronos so well . . .“So I’m a snack now, huh? Just for that, you have to drive.”

“I have to drive anyway, you quite literally can’t! No doubt thanks to your fondness for the luxury of chauffeurs back before that went out of style and then those damned rods.” Susan sighs and kisses her lips out at the air. “Come on hun, we’ve gotta get going. This is Sarah’s day, you can punish me later sweetheart.”

Those silver eyes grin, and Lida just kisses mom on the forehead. “If I didn’t, I’d hear about it for the rest of my life. So! Let us be onward to food, family, and fantastical celebration of my special little girl’s birth!”

My cheeks turn red, but at least my thighs are dry this time. That’s becoming a rare combination. “Onward!” My stomach growls, and I blush a little more. “I think that’s a fourth chime of agreement . . .”

The car ride is decently long, and my mothers actually let me just spend it staring out the window. Oh, it’s rolled down, and Lida complained to no end about my hair being ruined, but all that meant was that she’d have to calm it back down. Feeling the wind in my hair is a sensation I’ve never stopped loving ever since the first time I laid back and felt the wind catch me.

“I swear Susan, she got that from your side. No one on my side of the family would ever let her hair be ruined like that just to feel the wind through it.” Lida can’t hold back the laugh, and I look out of the corner of my eye up to the front to see Lida’s hand rest over Susan’s on the gear shift.

“No one besides you!” Susan laughs louder than Lida and shifts the car down. “It’s really warm for winter, but I guess it’s just for you, Sarah. Even mother nature wants you to feel special today.”

My cheeks just keep burning lately, and Susan just can’t be the one person to not make me blush. “Mom . . .! It’s just a stroke of luck, that’s all . . . ”

Susan pulls the car up in front of the restaurant and smiles back at me. “Luck . . . You used to run around on rooftops. Luck had nothing to do with that! Now come on, out with you, this place has valet parking . . .”

A cute olive skinned girl with tied back black hair slowly approaches the car. Her uniform is a gorgeous black vest with a red vine pattern over a white blouse that clutches her in a respectable but sexy as hell way. Her legs are covered by black starchy slacks, and something about them just makes me want to grab the sides and tear them off of her.

“My thoughts exactly, Lucia . . .” Lida’s voice is practically a purr. “If one is not among witches and faeries, a good Italian is the next best thing. A Celt is close after that, but I’m inclined to believe they’re all faerie blessed. . .”

“Lida! Sarah!” Susan sighs and rolls her eyes. “Sarah, keep your eyes to tasteful glances. Lida, slide on your shades, and curb your tongue. I’m the only girl for you, remember?”

Lida just sighs and whispers something into her mom’s ear before squeezing her hand and we all get out of the car.

The town I grew up in was small, but just an hour away, which isn’t really bad for special occasions, is a sizable enough city with a wonderful Italian restaurant. I’ve always loved Italian food, maybe because really young I associated it with Susan being happy.

That, and who doesn’t love Italian spices and nightshade sauce?

The architecture is modern, but it was designed to look ancient in a renaissance sort of way. In a way, it fits the renaissance in a deeper way than it would sound. The renaissance was a rediscovery of ancient beauty, and modern architecture that pretends to be ancient is much the same. That, or I just like feeling deep.

Susan pulls Lida close and my lips curl up into a smile all on their own. I can’t stay with them for long, so this is the last time our family is going to be reunited for awhile. I guess the three of us just aren’t meant to be together forever in anything but spirit.

I stand beside them as we walk in and are escorted to our seats after Susan just softly whispers our last name. Eyes scan over to us, especially the happy couple, but we’re all rather well trained at ignoring large amounts of eyes.

At a lovely table under a chandelier the waitress, dressed like the valet, hands us menus and then minces away. Her ass looks so squeezable in those slacks that I swear I would take her on this table right here and now if I could get away with it, embarrassment of my parents be damned.

“Twenty five . . . You know, when I was twenty five, I’d only just started living on my own outside of dorm rooms. I ended up doing odd jobs for another year before I managed to actually use my teaching degree for anything besides being qualified for office work.” Susan smiles as she leafs through her menu. “And at twenty five . . . Well . . . Look at all you’ve accomplished!”

I smile and slide the tip of my finger around the rim of the complementary glass of water after it’s been slid down in front of me. I have accomplished a lot. Just being alive and with my own thoughts is a tremendous accomplishment even if it shouldn’t be.

Not even counting that, I’ve saved a lot of lives and gave a lot of people a second chance at life. When The Lady wasn’t sending me out on missions, I was saving lives. Before she’d ever met me, I was saving lives and living the dream. I was a heroine in a big city where just a wrong step and I’d plummet off of a skyscraper. Even landing on a mattress from over fifteen stories up has got to be deadly.

Heck, I took down a witch without knowing a lick of magic. That has got to count for multiple some things.

“By twenty five, I was still tripping up over minor incantations and actually had to whisper words to spells. My eyes were still brown. Oh, and I think I was still living with my mother.” Lida takes a long sip of her water and smiles warmly. “And I was always wearing a cloak. Mother insisted it was tacky, but I wore it everywhere. It was black and covered in silver stars . . . it made me feel impressive.”

For some reason the only image that gives me is of a little girl wearing a cape made for her mother and skittering a round calling out spells to no effect. It’s an adorable image, but I’m sure it would only hut Lida’s feelings so I keep my mouth shut. “I’ve done a lot then, I guess . . . to progress!” I hold up my glass, and chink it against my mothers’ one at a time.

Susan smiles and when the waitress comes back she orders a fancy wedding soup, which sounds unfitting for a birthday but whatever works for her, and a yummy sounding manicotti. Lida grins wolfishly at the waitress and orders minestrone soup and a hearty lasagna.

Deciding it’s been an age and a half since I was forced to eat fancy, I can’t even remember what appealed to me so I just shrug and stare at the ceiling before settling on the minestrone soup and manicotti.

It feels only fitting, after all.

“And a bottle of the house’s finest red wine, for my special little girl’s special day . . .” Lida’s eyes sparkle from under her shades, and I giggle happily. Susan gives her a look, to which Lida huffs. “I have some money still saved up, let me spoil my daughter.”

“Of course, of course . . .” Susan smiles and nods, and we all one by one hand the sizzling waitress our menus. I feel underdressed for the place, but we all seem underdressed for the place. It’s far too fancy, but it was obviously Lida’s idea and I’m not about to argue with that.

The ambience enough is worth feeling like it would have taken me another five years experience with Linda to be worthy of cleaning the toilets in this joint.

Bread comes, the great oil soaked bread you can only really get at a fancy place like this, and we all nibble on it. The topics range from weather to talking about Midas. Not the underbelly of the city, no, just the finer points are questioned and discussed. After all, it does have finer points. It has a bit of tourist appeal if only for the fact that if you stay there long enough your chances of being rescued by a super hero/ine triple daily.

At least that was the statistic used by travel companies two years ago.

It feels like an eternity before the entrées actually get to the table, but that’s fine. “You know, Midas actually has some of the best schools in the nation. Would be a great place to raise a family if I could ever let myself settle down but alas, I don’t see that happening quite yet!”

“And why not?” Susan sips at her water, and the spoon she’d been swirling in her soup rests against the lip. “You could do for a little settling down. Maybe a cute little Lois Lane to make you stay a bit safer, huh?”

I just stare at her with a shocked wide open mouth.

“What? Lida and I discussed it, thoroughly. You think she’s the only one who gets to agree that you were born for that line of work? Well, would she be a Mary Jane? Or a . . .” Susan scoops a spoonful of soup into her mouth and keeps the spoon inside her lips thoughtfully.

Lida laughs and shakes her head, pouting and sipping at her own soup daintily from her spoon. “Nah, you’re not ready for that yet. You need to explore life. Stay free till you have no other choice!”

Shaking my head I take a big spoonful of soup, and then another before even thinking of responding. “She would probably be more analogous to one of Mr. Wayne’s many flings. And hey, come on, I know that I’m not exactly easily recognized but can we not discuss it so blatantly? You never know when the wrong person is watching you . . .”

“Too true.” Lida smiles and looks over at Susan warmly, lightly poking her in the side with help from her elbow. “Come on, give her your present or I’ll give her mine first.”

“Well oka—” Susan’s words are cut off by the arrival of the entrées, and we all share a laugh before sampling our individual plates. “Okay. Mmm, that’s good. Yes, definitely a good idea to come here, love. Anyway, close your eyes sweetie.”

I close my eyes, and sigh before placing another spoonful or two down my throat and then the spoon back into the bowl. What she could be giving me, I have no clue, but I am very anxious for the unveiling. I can’t imagine it being anything short of delightful.

A jingling sound rings out, and Susan takes my hand to lay it flat on the table. “Now, it’s not exactly finished. I thought I’d let you decide the color. After all, I would have chosen black, and I know that’s cool and all but it seems a touch too cliché or boring for you.”

Cool metal and a round piece of leather drops into my hand and my mother’s warm fingers press mine around the mass.

If the shape I’m feeling is tight, then I know just what this is and it makes me feel so very beyond delicious. There are only so many things this could mean. I don’t know how to drive a helicopter, or a plane so I’d hope those are out of the running. A house boat could be fine and all, but it just doesn’t really seem my style and black houseboat seems like its just itching to be rammed into in the middle of a particularly dark night.

Slowly I open my eyes and open up my hand. In the middle rests a singular key, silver and shining just a little too bright under the bulb lit chandelier. Attached to the key is a key chain, and is a circular piece of leather with “S” and “L” fancily embroidered on the black surface in silver thread.

“Its a bike. She’s a real beauty, too. I was planning on getting her for your job. I thought even if I hadn’t heard from you, that a way to help you get it done would be able to mend the rift between us. Lucky me, is a nice bonus and it shows I was already starting to think you were capable!” Susan laughs and smiles brighter than the key. “Its a Ducati.”

“You . . . You got me a Ducati.”

“Mmhmm.”

“And it’s just waiting to be painted and turned into the new mode of transportation of a certain soon to be reborn super heroine?”

“That’s the short version of it.”

“Does the long version include a magic castle and a princess with silver skin?!” My voice breaks into laughter and tears well up in my eyes. This is the best birthday present ever. I’ve never really owned a bike before, and granted, I’m a little scared I’ll crash the damn thing right into a wall, but you don’t learn how to make a pie using a broken tin.

You learn it with the best damned tin money can buy, and in this case, a helmet.

Sniffling I laugh and just stare at the leather patch. S and L, Sarah LaSilvas. Or Sarah and Lucia, either way it has an interesting feeling of symmetry to it. It’s so pretty, so gorgeous, and it’s not even the bike.

Lida reaches out across the table and smoothes out my hair just a little with a smile. “And I have a present for you too, sweetheart . . . If you’re ready for it. Susan and I decided to not let you relax between presents for a stronger effect and more tears. I knew you were adorable, but I had no clue how adorable . . .”

I laugh and sniffle a little more, wiping away a few stay tears before nodding. Susan really did think I could do this job. I’ll prove to her that I can. I owe it to her, and everyone who ever depended on me to take on the mantle of a heroine all over again.

If I can’t be Silver Girl that doesn’t mean I can’t be a heroine.

“However . . . for my present, you don’t have to close your eyes.” Lida stands, and slowly walks to behind me, and strokes my hair slowly and softly before I hear the sound of metal and blink. I don’t think I could ride two motorcycles.

Slowly she lifts up my hair and for just a moment caresses my neck. “Here, little Lucia . . .” Cool metal slides around me from behind and rests just above my cleavage as a much smaller bit of metal wraps around the back of my neck. I look down to the metal at my chest and my eyes well up more.

Lida gave me her pendant . . .

Softly she kisses the back of my head and hugs me from behind before I turn around in my chair and hug her tightly.

“Oh . . . I just wanted you to have it, my little girl . . . It’s tradition, and even if I’m not one for following tradition blindly, this is one even I find sacred. Not to mention I put a little spell on the chain just for you. As long as you keep it close, it will help you regulate that heart of yours. It won’t take the place of taking the medicine, so you’ll need both, but it will make it possible to ride that Ducati well above the speed limit to overtake crime and outrun the authorities . . .”

The teardrop feels warm against m chest and I sniffle harder as I hold her tight. She really is my mom. She’s looking out for me in ways I never could have even hoped for before now. Two mothers who care about me, and who want me to succeed at the goals I have set for myself. It’s amazing . . .

Footsteps approach, and when I pull my tear soaked face away from my mother I see a warmly smiling waitress placing down our entrees. “And for the birthday girl . . . There. The wine will be arriving shortly.”

The three of us all share a glance as Lida retakes her seat, and Susan laughs. “You now, I always pictured the three of us like this . . . So come on, let’s eat, and we can talk more about Midas, and the future . . .”

Dinner is long, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Susan tells me about the bike, and just the description makes me drool. The teardrop is a constant reminder that I’m a LaSilvas and that heritage means something even if Lida still doesn’t seem to want to fully tell me what.

My life feels the opposite it did when I woke up crying with my hand between my legs from that last “nightmare”.

Outside of the restaurant my mothers and I step outside and Susan tells the valet to grab the car. I’m too busy swooning to hear the exact words.

In just a few minutes we’re all back in the car, making flirty waves to the valet as we leave. Well, Lida and I are a bit more flirtatious but at least we both keep our shirts on. Susan didn’t touch the wine beyond a taste, and therefore she can leave it at a wink and a blown kiss.

I just wish I could move my tongue around my lips like this when I’m fully sober.

“Well then, Sarah, are you going to be Silver Girl again? What’s going to be the color of the bike? Any ideas of a sidekick or young page to protect and train?” Susan is such a good sport. She indulged my comic fascination when I was younger so I guess she acknowledges that she only has herself to blame.

Smiling, I lay back against the backseat. “Nah. Silver Girl died, and if people knew I used to be her it could be dangerous . . . I think the paint job will be a very special, and very unique one, and as for the sidekick, no. I think that I need to embrace the changes I’ve made in my life.

“ I need to embrace who I am now after Chronos. Not abandon the old but to accept the new and become that. To become the change, to embrace the evolution . . . and what happens to Silver when it’s oxidized, exposed to experience?”

Lida raises a hand and giggles. “Tarnished?”

“Close . . .” I clutch the silver teardrop in my hand and smile brightly, looking out and up to the stars. “It takes on a patina, like the statue of liberty. Only through taking on experience does silver gain that patina and become more than it was before . . .” I pause and close my eyes, smiling even if no one can se it. “I will be Patina. The heart of a heroine, and the understanding of a woman whose been on the other side of the law . . .”

“Patina . . . I like it.” Lida’s voice sounds like she’s smiling, and the giggle sounds like she’s still tipsy and likely is either an extreme lightweight or hasn’t had half a bottle of wine in a very long time. “My little Patina . . . Saving Midas with her experience! Unstoppable super heroine!”

My cheeks burn red and I laugh as I open my eyes and stare out the window again. “Not unstoppable . . . but fiercely determined. And that will be more than good enough.”