The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The dim lighting in the boardroom helped with viewing the overhead projection of the various surveillance photos and videos. I say ‘various’ but the truth was they were very scanty and not very good quality and didn’t show anything that gave me any help whatsoever.

We had scoured the neighborhood around the apartment for several blocks in every direction from ground zero. After two weeks we still had nothing.

“Well Sam,” Steve began “I’m sorry but that’s it, and we’re not any closer to knowing who killed Kristen and Julie.”

My injuries had mostly healed, the physical ones anyway. Emotionally, well, I wasn’t the same man. It’s strange that I can acknowledge that fact intellectually but I can’t seem to get control of that part of me. I couldn’t give up my anger if I wanted to and I’m not sure I want to. I understood myself well enough to know that I wanted the anger and the hate. I was using it to propel myself into the chase, the hunt for Julie’s murderer.

I sat there for a few minutes without talking then nodded, got up and walked out. If I said anything it was going to sound mean, I was really angry and I couldn’t keep that from coming through in my voice. There was no way I was going to give up. Someone needed to be punished and I intended to be the punisher.

So it was down to the same short list of suspects.

John MacBeth: Not a good suspect. In the first place, the explosion that killed Julie and almost certainly was meant to kill me also killed MacBeth’s daughter Kristen, my first slave. I really did not want to believe that even MacBeth could be so cold blooded, as much as he hated me for screwing him out of the Adamson fortune. Of course, now that Kristen was gone and she had willed the entire company to me I wouldn’t put anything past him.

Paco Rivera: A better suspect, but impossible for him to have done it personally. He was in jail awaiting trial for the murder of a rival gang member. The thing is, Paco had a gang he could instruct to execute revenge for him, and I was pretty sure he would have wanted revenge; it was Stefani and I who had clued the police in to his violent activities and his collection of illegal arms. It was supposed to be on the QT, but it wouldn’t be hard for him to figure out that Stefani might have ratted him out since she’d disappeared from his life just before his arrest.

Islamic Terrorists: A possibility since I had disrupted their plans to strike at the ‘Great Satan’. But I didn’t have the foggiest notion of where to start looking for them. I told Sheik Salman, Adiva’a father, what happened and asked him to ‘very quietly’ put out a few feelers to see if there was anything to be concerned about from that quarter. He said he had no contacts with such groups but some people he knew might know something. I had also let my slaves in the League of Arabic Sheikdoms know to be alert for any news on that front. My only concern was that if I wasn’t on their radar screen now, someone asking the wrong questions might bring me to their attention, but it had to be tried.

Another Slaver: Larry had told me that there was one Adalberto Sontillo who I should be careful of because he didn’t like other Slavers. I had no evidence that he was even aware of me but it was possible. Were there others that Larry didn’t know about, other Slavers? Had I come to the attention of one of them? Unknown and unknowable unless some additional information became available.

Someone connected with one of my slaves: Not likely. I’d gone over all of their past connections with the girls and we came up empty. Unless it was someone connected with Julie or Kristen, but I couldn’t ask them, they were dead.

Someone targeting someone in the other two apartments: Also not likely. Apartment four had been occupied by a couple of college kids and apartment five had a couple of Mormon missionaries. Certainly there were people who didn’t like the Mormons but not to the extent of destroying every car in the lot and the apartment complex as well, not to mention killing two innocent people.

I was frustrated. Every avenue I pursued was a dead end. I wanted to strike out.

I exited the high rise and mounted my bike. The old one had been destroyed in the explosion so I bought a new one, a black Yahama YZF-R1. It was a nice bike but I still missed my old one.

I roared out of the parking lot and onto the freeway driving fast, weaving in and out of the already fast moving traffic, passing cars to the right, to the left and in between. As I rode I thought about my list of suspects. I was just going to have to start a process of elimination starting with the most likely and working my way down the list. My top two candidates were Paco’s gang and Albert. Paco’s gang was the most accessible; Larry was working on finding me a way into one of Albert’s slave auctions. The fact that I was now a multi-billionaire might speed the process I hoped.

So first I’d check out the gang.

I headed for our home. We were renting a four bedroom house not far from the old apartment which was being demolished to clear the way for a new house. I’d decided to build on the same spot as the apartments, don’t know why exactly, sentimental reasons I suppose. But I was going to build a very large home with a high fence and security gate. It would be more like a compound than a house and would dwarf the other houses in the area. The plan I had settled on was a twelve bedroom multi-level semi mansion but it wouldn’t be ready for at least three months.

When I walked in the front door my four girls greeted me with hugs and kisses. Normally that would have warmed my heart but now I was too focused on revenge to enjoy any aspect of my life and my heart was too cold to be warmed.

“Stefani, put on some jeans and grab your helmet, we’re going to take a ride.”

She loved riding the bike with me. When I bought the new bike I also bought some new helmets with an intercom system so we could ride and talk at the same time.

As we headed for the center of town I reviewed what she had already told me just to make sure I hadn’t missed anything. “So Paco’s gang is called ‘The Gallos’ and they hang out in the neighborhood east of the mall. Is that right?”

“Yes Master.”

“And you’ve only met a couple of the members. Would you recognize them if you saw them?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Good.”

“Do you know if they have girlfriends or wives?”

“No, I’m sorry but I don’t.”

We drove by some of their known hangouts but didn’t find anyone, so we drove around the neighborhood hoping to accidently run into them. After a few minutes Stefani remembered something. “Master, I just thought about something. Since it’s Sunday they might be at the park.”

“Good thinking Stef. Let’s check it out.”

So we drove to the park and started driving slowly around, checking out the groups in each of the picnic areas. As we drove I noted the smell of the Eucalyptus trees and salt air. We’d been through most of the park when Stefani’s hands tightened their grip around my middle.

“I think that’s them. Over there to the left. I recognize that purple car.”

The car she referred to was a sixty-eight Chevy Impala, painted with a silver metal-flake base that was overlaid with elaborate purple swirls and swooshes.

I pulled over and killed the motor. “Stay here and keep your helmet on.” I didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot by bringing Paco’s ex-girlfriend into the picture too soon.

There were a couple of tattooed toughs leaning on the purple car. They watched me approach like a couple of hungry lions watching a sheep.

You will be helpful to me. I pushed at them as I approached.

“You guys the Gallos?” I asked the shorter one. I had a hunch he was the brains of the operation.

“Who wants to know?”

“Just need someone to do a job and I was told you might be the men to do it.”

They looked at each other. “We don’t want no job.” The short one said.

Not very cooperative. Maybe I’m wrong about how this telepathy affects men.

“This one pays well and it’s only for one day.”

“How much?”

“Twenty thousand.”

“Cabron! Ok, who do we gotta kill?”

“No killing. But I want some property destroyed. Do you have anyone who can handle plastic explosives?” I was fishing.

They spoke with one another in Spanish. I switched on the mic in the helmet under my arm. After a half a minute the short one spoke. “Why you wanna mess with that fancy shit man. We can do any job you want with pipe bombs and gasolina.”

“Well this job requires some special care; I want certain things destroyed and other things preserved.”

They spoke again. “We might have someone, but we have to find out if he’s still around and if he’s willing to help.”

“Someone you can trust to not talk I hope.”

“If he joins up he’ll keep his mouth shut.”

“Ok. You find this guy and I’ll look for you here next Sunday and we can discuss the job.”

“Why don’t you give us your phone number cabron so we can call you?”

“No. No names, no phone numbers.”

Their eyebrows went up.

“If you have to call me something call me Malik.” I said using the Arabic for master that Adiva used for me.

“You ain’t one of those terrorist mother fuckers are you?”

“No. I just need to pay someone back for something they did to me.”

“Alright. We’ll be here next week, same time.”

“Good. If I don’t show up it will mean the deal’s off or at least postponed, but I’ll be back when I need you.”

I walked back to the bike and put my helmet on.

“Were you able to make out what they were saying in Spanish Stef?”

“They were talking about someone named Esteban who just got back from Iraq. They don’t know where he lives now but he used to be a member of the gang.”

“Well, it sounds like these guys don’t have any recent experience setting plastic explosives so they’re probably not the ones we’re looking for.”

I cranked the bike and headed for home.

And they really didn’t seem all that cooperative. I still wasn’t sure how my telepathy worked on men. I had been so sure I had had an effect on Larry and Steve. They seemed to cave so quickly when I insisted we look for Julie’s killer. But these guys didn’t seem to be affected.

Larry’s Chrysler Three Hundred was parked in front of the house when we arrived. Inside he was seated at the kitchen table enjoying some homemade cake Adiva had just pulled out of the oven.

“What’s up Larry?” I sat down and Adiva brought me a small piece of cake and a cup of coffee. I had given all the girls instructions to not overfeed me; I didn’t want to blow up like a blimp with all this good food around.

“I found out how you might get invited to the auction. Apparently Albert runs a very elite escort service cum whore house that we were previously unaware of.” He chuckled at the combination of words he had used. “Anyway. It’s very pricey and at least a couple of people who have been to the auction said they were first approached at that establishment. It’s not easy to become a client. They have a screening process and a waiting period.”

“Waiting for what?”

“They require a sample of your blood which they check for any kind of STD and you have to be examined by a doctor. You see they guaranty the whores are free of disease, so you can’t be with them until you’re cleared. Then they take a new sample every time you come in to make sure you’re still clean. If you come up with a disease very bad things can happen to you.

“One night runs about four grand and if you want to be invited to the auction you should probably put your wealth on display, be very flashy with your money.”

“And where is this fine establishment?”

“It’s up in the old money section, north of here.”

“So I have to start frequenting a whore house if I want to get to the auction.”

“Well I think that’s your best bet.”

I didn’t care what I had to do; I was going to find out if Albert had anything to do with Julie’s death. A part of me felt guilty that I was so focused on Julie and not so much on Kristen. But even though I loved Kristen, Julie had been so special to me that there was no comparison. My anger flared when I thought about Julie’s death and I choked it down with gritted teeth.

“Ok. I’ll start tomorrow night.”

“One more thing.” He interjected. “I’m pretty sure these girls are all Albert’s slaves so be careful what you do and say.”

“Understood.”

The next day I went to the Ferrari dealership and bought their 458 Italia.

I also went to the finest men’s store in town and had them deck me out in the most expensive duds they had.

At eight fifteen I pulled up in front of the 1920s era mansion on a small hill that housed the elite house of ill repute that might be my gateway into Albert’s presence.

I threw the key to the valet as I got out.

A thirty something woman with long brown hair, who was still a striking beauty by the way, greeted me at the entrance. She was flanked by some serious looking muscle on both sides of the doorway.

“Welcome to Poole House. May I help you sir?”

“Yes. I’ve heard about your establishment and I would like to become a member.”

She looked me over, taking in the silk shirt and the very expensive Italian jacket, not to mention the cowboy boots that cost what I used to make in a month. I also saw her glance at my car as the valet pulled it away from the entrance.

“Very well sir. My name is Cassandra. This way please.”

She led me to an office at the rear of the residence. There were women visible in the rooms and lobbies we passed along the way; all beauties.

She asked me to sit in a chair as she sat behind a desk.

“Your name sir?”

“Sam Williams.”

“Address and phone number?”

I gave her the address of the corporate office and my cell number.

“Do you understand sir that you will be required to give us a sample of your blood and wait until we have checked for any diseases and that you will have to be examined by our doctor?”

“Yes. That’s why I liked the idea of this place, I don’t want to catch anything either.”

“Very well.” She pressed a button on a device near her phone.

A thirtyish blond woman in a white lab coat came in, rolled up my sleeve and wrapping a soft rubber hose around my upper arm drew a vial of my blood.

Setting the vial of blood aside she said very matter of factly “Please remove your pants and underwear sir.”

I raised my eyebrows to Cassandra and she said “Don’t tell me you’re prudish about nudity.”

“No. It just seems a little strange with both of you still clothed.”

I pulled off the boots and then the pants and briefs.

The blond doctor examined my crotch and smiled as my cock started to harden at her touch. She cut some hairs and scraped some skin. “Ok, you can get dressed now.”

When she left the room Cassandra said “It will be a few days before you’re cleared. I will call you when it is time.”

“Thank you.”

And that was it. I now had to wait until they checked me out. I was sure they would check out more than my blood. If they called me at all it might be a sign that Albert didn’t kill my girls. In a way I was hoping I would be rejected which in my mind would indicate that Albert knew about me and didn’t want me around. On the other hand I did need to get closer to Albert.

I thanked her and left.

On the way home I drove by the old apartment site. It was completely cleared now except for a small pile of rubble that needed to be hauled off. Actual construction would start soon.

When I got home I noted how incongruent the two hundred thousand dollar Ferrari looked in the driveway of our home in this middle class neighborhood. Let the kids in the neighborhood drool. It might motivate them.

Inside the house I was greeted again by my slaves.

I went to my room slash office and sat at the computer. Checking my email I noticed a message from Gloria, the PI John MacBeth had hired to watch me.

Master. Please view these photos. I took them the night of the explosion at your apartment. Mr. MacBeth told me to stop spying on you after that so I hadn’t looked at them until now. It was late at night and I had my camera set to take a picture every two minutes while I slept.

Gloria.

The message was accompanied by several attachments which I saved to a new folder.

When I opened them I was very excited. They showed three black women breaking into our cars at the apartment. They slid up under the dash and crawled under the chassis. After they left the scene there was a clear picture of them leaving in a dark colored Ford explorer with a huge gash down the passenger side like it had been side-swiped.

Yes! This is what I needed.

But what did it mean? Three black women. The fact that they were women made me think immediately of another slaver, but the fact that they were all black was another piece of information I was sure was important in some way. Maybe a black Slaver who didn’t like the idea of a white guy having such a beautiful black slave as Julie. It was just a guess and just as likely to be misleading as anything else.

I squelched the speculation. At least I had a little evidence now.

I checked the vehicle again. A Ford explorer for sure, maybe about mid-nineties. That certainly didn’t seem like Albert’s style, but that wasn’t conclusive either. There was no way to see the license plate from the angle the picture was taken.

I forwarded the photos to Larry with a message. Larry. Please have your analysts review these pictures of what happened at my apartment before the explosion.

My frustration receded a little and I felt a little better after seeing the pictures. I felt so good in fact I thought I would celebrate.

I hadn’t had sex with any of my girls since before the bombing.

Stefani. I need you. I thought.

She came into the room in a hurry. “You called Master?”

“Yes. It’s time to have a little fun.”

I put on the latest Black Eyed Peas CD.

“Have you ever done a strip tease?”

“No Master.”

“Well, do your best. Remember not to hurry and your goal is to make me as horny as hell.”

She started undulating to the music. Swaying her hips and running her hands along her body. One by one articles of clothing came off until she was performing in a black thong and bra. But her performance was a little mechanical, like she was doing what she thought I wanted but wasn’t moved by her own performance.

Stefani. When you touch your own breasts you will feel great arousal. You won’t be able to resist touching them. Your pussy will get so hot and wet and you will be so turned on that you feel like you’re going to come any second.

She pulled the cups of the bra down and touched her nipples with a quick intake of breath followed by a low groan. She continued to touch and rub her own breasts for a few minutes and was moaning louder and louder.

Stefani. Make no sound. Don’t speak. Make me know how you feel.

I wanted her to show me with her body movements; and she did. Her hips moved forward and back in simulated intercourse. She slid the thong down slowly and threw it in the corner. She came closer and opened her legs so I could see her pussy. It was dripping. Her hands snaked down to touch her slit.

Stefani. No touching your pussy. And no orgasms.

Her hands went back to her tits. Her undulations were becoming more exaggerated as she tried to communicate wordlessly how turned on she was.

I was just about ready to take her when I suddenly heard or felt a noise like a thousand ocean waves breaking against a thousand rocky shorelines, and then...

Master. Please fuck me. I want you so bad. I’ve been so sad since you were hurt. Let me help you. Please! I need you!

What the hell? She hadn’t opened her mouth but I heard her as clear as a bell. Not only did I hear her but I actually felt her feelings. I knew exactly how intensely aroused she was, how desperate she was for release.

Her thoughts and feelings continued to pour into my mind. I experimented and was somehow able to damp the stream to a trickle until it was like a low whisper in the background.

Stefani, can you hear my thoughts?

I ‘listened’ for her response. Nothing.

I tried again. Stefani, can you hear what I am saying to you?

No answer.

Her thoughts were becoming less coherent and more desperate. I listened again.

Please. Oh please. Oh god. Oh Master. Please. She went on in the same vein.

Her face was flush. Even through her dark latina pigment I could tell she was overheating.

Stefani. Take my clothes off for me.

Her hands immediately darted for the buttons on my shirt and she fumbled desperately in her attempts to unbutton them. I just let her struggle.

So. She is not consciously aware of my thoughts even though she is able to internalize them and act on them. But I can hear everything she’s thinking.

She finally got my shirt off and helped me pull off my boots. I stood to push my pants down and she helped me pull them off as I fell back onto the bed. Now we were both naked.

She practically dove on top of me, breathing deeply and frantically grabbing my erect member and trying to get it inserted into her flooded chamber. Finally getting lined up she lowered herself onto me with a sharp intake of breath. But she still emitted no sound, she just squatted there with my cock inside her and shook, tears rolling down her cheeks. Finally, when she had caught her breath she started stroking up and down my shaft, pausing with each stroke to let the orgasm subside.

When I was ready I said “Do you love me Stef?” She nodded her head vigorously as she bit her lip from another orgasm. No words, no sound, my command was holding.

“Then let me give you a reward. Turn around.”

She raised up and did a one eighty above my crotch.

“Good. Now go to town on my cock. Fuck me hard and don’t come until I do.”

She lowered herself and started stroking for her life, up and down, up and down, fast, but without a sound.

I felt my own orgasm coming up from the depths of my balls, and then I was hosing down her flames. I came and came and came (I hadn’t done this in a month), and Stefani just convulsed and shook, then dropped to the side like a rock, barely missing braining herself on the headboard.

After a few minutes I recovered enough to think again. Stefani. When you wake up you will be able to speak again.

I tried to listen to her thoughts again. Nothing. So apparently I was able to hear what she was consciously saying to herself internally, her inner voice, but I couldn’t just go in and get her memories or tune in on her dreams.

I wanted to experiment more with this new ability. Casey and Chahna were out shopping but Adiva was in her room.

I thought about Adiva, reached out and tried to listen. Again, that intense rushing noise or feeling, hard to describe as either really, and thoughts...

I should go to the kitchen and start dinner. I have some salmon and the ingredients for a salad. I have the buns that I made last night. And I have some broccoli I can steam. That will make a nice healthy meal for my Master. I hope Stefani can help him forget his anger for a while; he deserves to be happy. I am so worried about him and I miss our intimate moments so much.

I tuned out.

Wow! I felt her worry when her thoughts turned to my emotional wellbeing and I felt her unsatisfied need. I had no idea how deeply my anger and grief had affected my girls.

I wondered if this ability would work long distance. I thought of Casey and tried to tune in to her thoughts. Again that same feeling and...

... the blue one. No, I think I’ll stick with white, Master likes it when I where white. Maybe I can get him interested in fucking me for a change. He’s been so distant lately. He needs to relax and have some fun. Ok, I’ll get the white babydoll and a matching white thong.

I tuned out. So I could listen in to their thoughts from a great distance and I could also send commands mentally over the same distance. It was a great new ability that I was sure would come in handy.

I wondered if it would work if the woman wasn’t my slave. I tried to think of a woman I could test it on and I remembered Anne from the restaurant. I thought about her and tried to tune in...

Crap! It’s no good. This guy just can’t satisfy me. He hasn’t given me one orgasm all weekend. I have to find Sam, I wonder if he’ll let me be one of his harem. That’s crazy. Come on Anne, stop thinking with your pussy. But god I want him again. It would be worth it. I’d even do anything he said. Anything.

Whoa! My timing was perfect. But I was amazed at what Anne was thinking. I could tell from her feelings that she was frustrated and I could feel her resolve to find me and submit to me. I hadn’t intended to make her my slave but it seemed she was well on the road to being one anyway, voluntarily.

What about men? I thought of Larry and tried to tune in to his thoughts. Nothing.

I thought of Steve. I thought there was something but I wasn’t sure what. Kind of a low background murmur. But nothing else. So, maybe it doesn’t work on men.

I decided to spend more intimate time with my live-in slaves. They need my attention even if my heart wasn’t always in it.

With that thought I got up to find Adiva. Her first, and the others when they got home. It was going to be a busy evening.