The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Time spent trying to feel better and maybe live longer than a week and a half is harder than even the worst times dealing with the witches. At least with them I knew what I was getting . . . and things were happening. Right now, nothing is happening, and it makes me want to scream. I dislike not being able to make things happen, make people do what I need them to do . . .

Power corrupts, and power over the mind corrupts if you have a mind to corrupt.

If I get the surgery, I can go work at Linda’s again, or get some desk job. Maybe I can work security or tech support—something exciting . . .

I haven’t been able to stay awake or asleep. My body feels so tired and exhausted, but the dreams keep coming back, worse and worse. None of them stick with me after I wake up, but I’m always drenched in sweat and the last time I swore a strand of red hair was atop of one of my arms.

An eternity later, the door finally opens with Doctor Raine being the woman on the other side and then on the other side again—this time closest to me.

When everything happens at once, stops, and then starts up again, every small detail feels sacred.

“How’s my favorite patient doing?” Her voice is a trained doctor’s voice—it’s full of professional sweetness that while not dripping with passion and love is genuine and real and yet something peeks out from under it. Maybe it’s just my hope that everything I remember happening actually happened, but my gut tells me there’s more emotion in her voice than when she normally says that . . .

With a weak little sigh I shrug and stare at the needle sticking into my arm. This isn’t going to be an easy conversation . . . “Not great, but hey, I guess I’m alive . . .”

Valerie narrows her eyes worriedly and walks over to the machines I’m hooked up to, and writes some various things down onto her clipboard. The lab coat looks like she was born for it, it makes her look so professional, but also . . .

Well, let’s just say that if I could still spark she would be down on her knees so very fast . . .

“You’re doing much better physically at least since you came in . . . Your blood pressure is healthy, all things considered, and the drug seems to be out of your system . . .” She steps away from the machines and closer to me, looking down into my eyes. It’s such a familiar position . . . I want her to put her stethoscope back onto my chest, I want to feel that mist . . .

My lips press together and then very slightly part, and I can feel my eyes hooding. I want her to lean closer, I want to grab her and pull her down and give her a kiss like she’s never felt before in her life . . .

Instead, she pulls back and marks something down on her clipboard with a soft smile, either oblivious or purposefully trying to get away from me. After how I acted I can’t really say that I blame her much . . . “It’s nice to see your eyes brown and not that unhealthy neon green. Is your head working all right? Any strange thoughts, memories that only feel half real? That drug is a powerful hypnotic, I wouldn’t be surprised if whoever forced it on you had some fun with your head before tossing you into that alleyway . . .”

“No . . . I’m pretty sure that their fun involved leaving my mind more or less alone . . . Well, besides the whole wereslut thing . . .” Her cheeks blush just enough that I’m sure what I remember happening, did. For better or worse . . . nothing can come from it anyway, and she’s not likely to be happy.

“Well, it’s pretty expensive to be used as a date rape drug, but I’ve heard that this drug is getting around on the street a lot more often these days. You’d think that they’d get someone like the Blue Fox on the case or . . . oh, Silver Girl would probably be able to do it, too.” Valerie grins as she marks some more stuff down, humming to herself. “Her work stopping that one bank robbery was very impressive . . .”

This seems to be happening a lot lately. My first instinct is to scream out that I am Silver Girl and to tell the whole story and break down into helpless tears. That would be a good course of action, if I knew I could trust her . . .

It’s bad enough that The Infidels know that Sarah LaSilvas is a powerless little weakling. They might spread the news, I don’t need some doctor to do it for me . . .

“Silver Girl dropped off of the face of the earth though . . . She probably fell off of a rooftop or something. It’s dangerous being a super, you know. It’s not all publicity and bank robberies.” My voice has more sadness in it than it should, so I force myself to laugh and grow a weak smile. “Least that’s what I heard she said in an interview once. I was sort of a fan . . .”

I’m not anymore though. That Silver Girl chick totally let everyone down. The world doesn’t need heroines like that.

“I’m sure she’ll be back. These things happen! Have some faith . . .” Her violet eyes twinkle in just the faintest of ways, the irises almost looking like they’re a curved tunnel of mist . . . “You’ll be back, after all. I can schedule you a surgery for a week from now, and then you should be good as new! Just keep an eye out for anything that glows green.”

We both laugh, but it’s nervous laughter and I can tell she’s just laughing to try and make me feel better. I’m just laughing to try to make her feel better. I don’t think it’s working for either of us.

“Yeah . . . And that means I have to have faith in my heart. I’ve lived almost twenty five years with this abnormality . . . I have faith that I have it for a reason. I know it’s stupid, but I can’t have the surgery . . .” Her smile falters, and so does mine.

I didn’t think she’d be happy, but her look slowly is turning from just unhappy in to pure emotional chaos. Her lip twitches, and her misty eyes look like they’re filling with a dense violet fog. “You’re not going to . . .”

Her lips twitch after her last word, but she can’t seem to make any other words come to her lips, much less spill over. It makes my chest seize up in a way that makes me catch my breath with a sharp gasp. My hand falls to my chest and I can feel my heart struggling again, before i grit my teeth and just try to ignore it, fight past it.

“You know this isn’t safe. I have no clue how you even lived to be ten without this being diagnosed . . . Much less almost twenty four. You will have more and more heart attacks . . . You could very well die . . . " Slowly, she sets her hand down on top of mine, and I can feel just a hint of her mist . . .

It feels so soothing, so soft, so sweet . . . I can feel it sliding into my heart, and helping it slow, helping it sooth, the irregular beat turning back to what’s always felt normal . . . “It’s a part of who I am . . .”

Her look turns incredulous as she continues to caress my hand, and more of that mist slowly spreads out inside of me. I can feel it caressing through my veins, over my nerves, so soothing, melting . . . my eyes flutter and I faintly mewl with a sharp whimper before trying to push her hand away. Her eyes are glowing . . .

She doesn’t look like she knows it, knows that her eyes look like purple Christmas lights full of bright mist . . . How can she not . . .? “You’ll still be you with out it, and more alive . . . With more opportunities to explore just who you are . . .”

The mist speeds up, flowing quicker into me, so soothing, too soothing . . . She wants to make me take the operation! The thought makes some part of me—the part that shook off Dust’s power when I had a meeting with Her—scream out and my eyes shoot wide. I push her hand away and whimper, rolling over the handrails and off of the bed, pulling the IV out of my arm, luckily without any gruesome results.

Hitting the floor however, still hurts.

Mist is flowing from her hands when she brushes them off against each other to make it disperse. She doesn’t even know enough about her powers to use them skillfully, much less responsibly . . . She would have made a good recruiter with some of Windy’s help . . .

“God! Are you okay?! Why did you do that?!” Her voice is so guilty, I know that she must have done this before, at least once, and told herself that it would be the last time it ever happened . . .

If I wasn’t me, I guess I wouldn’t be able to feel empathy for her about this and would probably be getting even more upset than I already am. I’m pissed, sure, but . . . I understand. Not that understanding is going to help her as much as she’d like it to.

“Only fine as a patient with a controlling super for a doctor . . . I know what you were trying to do, I know, and I won’t let you make me get that operation! I need that extra chamber, I . . . I need it . . . It made me who I was, I can’t lose it now . . . There might be some way to fix it, some way to . . .”

Valerie steps back, staring at her hands, and I know that look on her face. I’ve had it way too many times. Staring into the mirror, asking myself if what I was doing was right, even if it was what The Lady wanted, even if it was what I wanted . . . It was easier when she would be reinforcing the programming I knew she put in there, but sometimes, just sometimes, I didn’t want to do it anymore. I didn’t want to keep playing with heads, but it was the least I could do for all that she’d given me . . .

Slowly Doctor Raine slides her pale hands through her purple hair, and then hides her face in her hands. “I’m sorry . . . I really am . . . If you don’t want the surgery, even if not getting it will no doubt kill you . . . Fine. I won’t force you . . . You’ll need to be on a couple of prescriptions to keep your heart from randomly up and killing you, and even then it’s a crapshoot . . .”

“I can live with that . . . I just can’t live with myself if I get that removed, fixed, whatever . . .” Slowly my body curls up into a ball on the cool hard floor. I might be bleeding from the needle wound, probably am, but she’ll take care of it when I decide to get up. “I can’t explain it . . .”

“Something this insistent . . . You can, you just won’t . . . Come on, let me get you up, cleaned up . . . You’re healthy enough to go home, I’ll call you a cab . . .” She sighs weakly and looks around the room before offering me down a hand. “It’s the best I can do. I’ll get you your prescription, infinite refill, but with your lifeline being as it is you won’t need it quite that long . . .”

Sighing I grab her hand and let her pull me up, my knees shaky and weak. “That’s fine by me . . . Do you have the jacket you found me in, with the silver cell phone . . .?’

She nods. “All of your clothes are stored away for when you were ready to leave, I had them laundered. They weren’t exactly the cleanest . . . The cell phone is fine. Were you date raped, mugged . . .? I’m sorry, I just want to know so I can try to help this from happening again, statistics . . .”

“You could say they were old friends who had a favor to repay . . .” She helps me back onto the bed, and then quickly heads for the door. “Or you could call them The Infidels. Either way, you’d be right . . .”

“Okay. You’ll be home in a jiffy . . . Don’t worry. And I’m sorry . . .” She leaves, and I lay back, sighing and staring up at the ceiling.

Don’t worry? That’s all that I’m sure I’m not being programmed to feel. That’s the one thing I’ve always done. The worry is comforting in a painful way, and so is knowing that I could call Jade even if I know I won’t.

She’d just agree with Valerie, and even if peer pressure isn’t mind control . . . I’ve felt both, and they feel a lot alike sometimes.

It’s dark when it gets home, so I guess it’s been a couple of days since I left to pay Mystic and the Chronos building their visits. Even if it didn’t end up as well as I hoped, at least now I have a couple of pill bottles that might keep me alive long enough to find a way to get my sparks back.

I can’t give up hope in there being a way, not yet.

Finally, my life is back in my hands! I am the mistress of my own fate, my own destiny. My choices are my own . . . My protection is my own responsibility, and my savings alone will only get me so far . . .

The tears well up in my eyes and I start to sob as I stumble my way over to the phonebook to the “L”s. I haven’t dialed this number in years, I couldn’t remember it even if I was Dusted or had a rod in my head.

There it is! I grab out the cell phone, turn it on, and ignore how many voice mails Jade has left. That doesn’t matter right now.

My tears start to spill down my face as I frantically hit the numbers before my eyes will be too covered in tears to be able to make them out. The phone starts to ring, and I focus every little bit of myself on those rings, not on getting raped with some of The Lady’s own drugs, not on knowing half of the reason I’m forcing myself to live like this is for The Lady who might not have ever cared about me at all . . .

Finally the phone stops ringing, and before the voice on the other end can speak, I interrupt. “Hey, this is Sarah, I . . . Mommy . . . I . . . I need to come home for a little while I . . . everything that could have went wrong did and . . . I . . . Is my room still a guest room? Because if you turned it into a gym I’m sure I can sleep on a couch . . .”