The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Friday

The two massive posters were hung on either side of the entrance to the Percival Hotel, identical to their online counterparts but no less unbelievable.

Philadelphia Erotic Hypnosis Convention, Dec 19–21

A Once in a Lifetime Experience with Mia Salvadori

Salvadori was allegedly the main on-stage presenter, but the innuendo wasn’t lost on Jared Geller. Nothing like a naughty play on words to get these—he caught himself before saying freaks, too editorial—introverts to show up for a promise that couldn’t possibly be fulfilled.

Even the idea of her being on stage was ridiculous, frankly. Jared would have trouble believing the PEHyCon, as they called it, could get a retired sports star on board, much less the brightest Hollywood star at the moment. To go from posing for the annual Vanity Fair cover to presenting a niche kink convention in the span of a month would be a fall from grace of unspeakable proportions. The obvious explanation was a gag on behalf of the organizers—Salvadori would definitely top the list if he went inside and polled every man on their celebrity crushes. And yet, despite the online buzz that was soon followed by level-headed s brushing it away as fake, there was not a word of legal action from Mia’s lawyers. The posters still proudly displayed her face sharing the space with a cliché hypnotic spiral.

Jared had no choice but to investigate, and so he went up the steps of the hotel to the stand that was vetting people for entrance. There, he was greeted by a charming lady who looked to be in her 30s and was handing out cards of varying colors. The winter cold didn’t seem to deter her, as she was dressed in layers upon layers of clothes.

“I’m Jared Geller, from Morning Herald. I ed Mr. Levitsky and he said there was no need to for—”

“Oh yes, of course Mr. Geller, we were expecting your arrival.” They were? “Here you go, enjoy the con,” she said as she ed a bright red card from her gloved hand to his own. He walked into the revolving door and was soon led to the main event space.

The ground floor was at least thirty degrees warmer and buzzing with activity. Guests walked in every direction, some carrying food or props and others wandering to find an activity of their liking. On the opposite end of the floor, the main stage overlooked every corner of the Con, while tables and sequestered rooms were set up in every other direction to accommodate the flurry of events taking place. He barely even made it three steps before a friendly-looking man with graying hair handed him an informative pamphlet. The first thing he did was check and...

Yup. Mia today, Mia tomorrow, Mia on Sunday. Though she wasn’t on the shortlist for an Oscar, she remained a wildly busy actress with a ton of projects lined up and he didn’t need to work in the papers to know that. How had she found time to allot for three days of nothing but this hypno-con?

Jared took out his camera, snapping pictures of the space and the various goings-on. Around a nearby table, a cute redhead was being led into trance by a professional through a slow, methodical induction that involved her lifting a finger and bringing it closer to her forehead until they touched, taking her to sleep like she’d just pressed a power-off button. Still, this being opening day, most of the interactions were newbies looking for a partner and veterans looking to link up with past acquaintances. Technically, PEHyCon didn’t even start until the main stage presentation in... eleven minutes, as his watch confirmed, by none other than Mia herself.

That was the reason he was looking for a seat with a good view. If he had to guess why Larry had assigned him to cover this con, besides his general dislike of Jared and the articles he wrote, it was the off chance that Mia would be here for real and end up under the spell of some macho hypnotist. In the one-in-a-million scenario where she did, Larry would definitely want the exclusive and especially the pictures.

Jared would be lying if he said he didn’t want to be present for that, as Mia was still an extraordinarily beautiful actress. However, his hopes were dashed by a closer look at the pamphlet and its rules. There were plenty of them, but one stood out:

‘The main presenter, Mia Salvadori (the one in pink!), is not to be the subject of an induction or other form of hypnosis under any circumstances.’

If this was a PEHyCon inside joke, they were certainly committing to it. No need to ask around for answers, though; he’d get to the bottom of what was going on in less than ten minutes.

The event’s organizer, a man way too young to be balding, paced across the stage with a microphone in hand. Raphael Levitsky was dressed in a fashionable suit and his most noticeable accessory was his card, the same dimensions as everyone else’s but of a shimmering gold color. “I know I’ve exhausted your patience with all this talk about the activity schedule and consent and whatever, so I’ll cut straight to what you’re here for. Please welcome the one and only, Mia Salvadori!”

The moment of truth. Was it going to be a guy in a wig? A cardboard cutout hiding another organizer behind it?

The screen behind Levitsky lit up with a video of Mia turning a hundred and eighty degrees to face the camera and blowing the audience a kiss. Then, under a torrent of applause, a pair of legs—god, what legs—walked on stage to greet the head organizer. There was no mistaking it: this was the real Mia Salvadori in the flesh. How had they done it?

Mia kept waving at all corners of the convention until she was handed the microphone. She wrapped two well-manicured hands around it, and he heard a guy next to him sigh. He could see why. Her long, voluminous hair was a dark shade of brown that glistened under the intense stage lights, looking like she’d just left the hairdresser. She’d gone all out on the makeup to highlight her perfect facial proportions, having put on smokey eyeliner and a scarlet lipstick. With a face like that, it was no mystery why the big studios were tripping over themselves trying to cast her in their next big production.

“Hello to all my favorite convention-goers and welcome to this year’s PEHyCon!” Mia’s voice was dripping with ion and enthusiasm, as if she truly cared for this predominantly male crowd. “After last year, I’m back for more, and Raph’s been kind enough to pack the schedule chock-full of activities! It won’t just be two days, but three!”

The crowd went wild. Jared wasn’t surprised everyone’s excitement was mirroring Mia’s—it was the latter that remained a mystery. Perhaps it was just her personal hobby, he thought. Cavill had Warhammer, maybe Salvadori had erotic hypnosis. Was it that far-fetched?

Yes, it was, a voice in his head replied. It was the voice that typically grumbled when a movie cop ‘enhanced’ the suspect’s image to magically reveal his features, a ‘come on now’ voice. The walking wet dream of every second American Gen Z man just happens to love getting hypnotized?

Jared examined the actress more closely, but as far as he could tell her mannerisms were the same as on the red carpet. Her outfit leaned towards fan-service, a cute plaid skirt that ended above the knee paired with a striped light blue dress shirt that had just enough buttons undone to be noticeable. Her cross necklace, a sign of her devout faith, was still around her neck. Far from the most revealing outfit she’d ever worn, and there weren’t even cameras here—besides his own. Oh, right. He snapped a few pictures of her, and then a few of Raphael so he looked more like a journo and less like a perv.

He briefly ed his featureless red card that could hold as proof of him being from the media. Mia’s was a vibrant pink, which at least explained the tangent on the pamphlet. Jared was starting to get a sense of the whole hierarchy: green for the newbies, blue for the returning (which was most of them), red for the media (so far none other than himself), gold for the guy who ran the show and now pink for the VIP presenter.

Salvadori was going over matters of food, refreshments, and other ground rules while walking around on stage in her black boots. Every pair of eyes was riveted on her, and Jared wondered how far his red card could get him backstage once she was done. Being seemingly the only journo in an event with a Hollywood star, he had to get an interview or Larry might as well fire him the next day.

With a hint of legs and cleavage for the eyes to feast on, the opening was done in a flash. Mia walked off stage and into a hallway, and Jared had positioned himself perfectly to follow after her. Many had the same idea, but few had the resolve to go all the way and he slipped past the rest. However, his view of Mia’s back was soon blocked by an imposing security guard.

“I’m afraid your access stops here,” the man in his 40s said. He had a buzz cut and was wearing a suit, but Jared spotted no earpiece like security staff of his caliber ought to use. Was Salvadori’s security this light?

“Oh, excuse me, I was just looking to get an interview from that lady,” he responded while holding his red card for the guard to see.

“No one gets in or out of Ms. Salvadori’s dressing room without permission,” he insisted. This wasn’t a good hill to die on.

“Fine. Can you get me in with Mr. Levitsky? I’d like someone to talk to the Morning Herald about this event.”

“That I can do,” the guard replied with the tiniest of smirks as he took out his phone.

Fifty minutes later, Jared was interviewing Raphael Levitsky in his suite over two cups of tea delivered by Percival Hotel staff. The first few questions had all been softballs, but he was starting to dig into the important stuff now.

“So it’s true you didn’t even the organizers until, what, five years ago?” His prep work for this interview amounted to looking up Levitsky on Linkedin, but it was paying off.

“Guilty as charged. Most con-goers have about the same years under their belt as me, but I find that to be a positive. I’m ‘one of them’ and have a better understanding of their needs and desires. It’s a large driving force behind our recent success.”

“Speaking of, comparing your activity list between now and five years ago suggests to me that the PEHyCon’s budget has skyrocketed since you took over. I don’t see any great influx of newcomers, though. What gives?”

“We tailor the experience to our target audience. Increasing revenue isn’t just about reaching new people, but also about expanding the offerings and asking for an appropriately larger fee.”

“Is Mia Salvadori one of these offerings you speak of?” Jared had meant the question to be tongue-in-cheek, but Levitsky visibly tensed up.

“I’m... not sure what you mean. We knew it was a long shot when we tried to recruit Ms. Salvadori, but it’s a gamble that, ah, paid off. She’s proven to be quite enthusiastic about it.”

“I can tell. In that case, why is she shutting herself off from all fans and attendees in general?”

Levitsky scratched his head. “That’s, uh... Her personal boundaries and decisions are not for us to determine.”

“Are you sure? Because to me it seemed like her bodyguard isn’t even hers, but rather one assigned by the event organizers—you.”

The head organizer took a sip from his tea before opening his mouth again. “I-Is this all going in the article? I want to have a look when you’re done with it.”

Saturday

After the interview with Levitsky went sideways yesterday, Jared looked for other avenues to explore the puzzle that was Mia’s presence. His second attempt to follow her after she hosted another later in the day was stonewalled much like the first, but physical barriers were no match for the marvels of technology. He’d needed to call in a favor from an LA reporter to get Mia’s work phone number, but the result was an arranged interview at eleven in the morning.

Jared walked down the hotel’s hallway with a pep in his step as he approached the number of Mia’s suite. Knowing that she would soon have to leave to present another segment, he’d opted to arrive ten minutes sooner to get the most out of one of his biggest interviews yet.

Even though he had his excuse to get to Mia’s room locked and loaded, the security guard was conspicuously absent on the way there. No one stopped him from coming up to the right door and knocking on it.

“Coming!” The actress responded in a high pitch before opening a few seconds later. As always, she was a sight to behold.

The brunette was wearing a floral-patterned sundress that reached her ankles, a departure from yesterday’s ensemble but more in line with what she wore in professional contexts like this. Her hair, though still looking healthy as ever, was somewhat disheveled with strands dropping on her face from different directions. Even her makeup, usually detailed to perfection, was amiss with smudges of lipstick and mascara on her pristine skin. “Hi, there,” she greeted him, sounding short of breath.

“I’m Jared Geller, delighted to meet you.” He went for a handshake and Mia likewise extended her right arm, before suddenly retracting it in a flinch and forcing them to awkwardly swap to their left hands. She beamed at him and it was all forgotten awfully quickly, though.

“Likewise, come in,” Mia invited him into her suite. Jared walked in and looked around the place, but her own eyes were darting faster from corner to corner as she probably tried to ensure she gave the best impression. The suite was nothing special, though he found the interior swimming pool to be over-the-top. “Bassett told me you wanted to get in touch, and you know how much we all want to keep him on our good side, right?” She laughed, and Jared laughed with her.

“Oh, I know. Wish I had half the reach he does.” As he was talking, Mia stopped in front of one of many mirrors to touch up her appearance, an effort in vain—not because you can’t improve upon a 10, which you can’t, but because she probably needed her stylist for her face to return to its full radiance. A stylist who, Jared noted, was also conspicuously absent throughout these two days. “So, where do you want us to sit?”

“There’s a couple lounge chairs by the pool, follow me,” Mia said as she led him through the maze-like suite. Why would she even need two bathrooms?

Her route led them through a secondary bedroom with a twin bed overlooking the busy Philadelphia streets. However, it was too late for her to change their itinerary when Jared’s eyes fell on the discarded outfit on top of the bedsheets.

“Oh-OH! I’m, I’m so sorry!” Mia turned on her heels to cover it up, but Jared had already seen it in detail. A fetish cop costume, consisting of a tiny blue buttoned top and booty shorts of the same color, complemented by a pair of handcuffs. The costume was a size too small even for the figure Mia had sculpted through hours at the gym every day. She tried to grab everything in one fell swoop and throw it in the closet, only for her policewoman cap to fall down. Leaving it behind, she stuffed the rest behind other clothes and shut the closet door behind her, flashing her most disarming smile to make Jared forget what he saw. Only that he couldn’t, in no small part thanks to the mental image of Mia Salvadori wearing it. “I-I don’t know why that was there...” she said, sounding sheepish for the first time.

“I’m not here to cast judgment on your private life,” Jared assured her, though this event would the list of out-of-character actions he’d seen Mia take. Come to think of it, the whole reason they ed through here was because of a roundabout walk to the pool, seemingly designed to evade the locked master bedroom.

They made it to the lounge chairs in silence, and it was time for Jared to start asking questions. “Before we start, are there any topics you’d like to avoid?”

Mia’s eyes suddenly went glassy as she tried to recall something. “Oh right, boyfriends! I’m not supposed to talk about who I’m seeing this whole event.”

Not supposed to? “Uh, alright then, I can avoid that pretty easily. Let’s start. My first question is, well, how were you even roped into this world?”

“Oh, I wasn’t roped in,” she responded with a chuckle. “My manager was just approached with an offer that was so out of the ordinary I couldn’t help but accept it. I’m always looking out for new challenges,” she said in a tone that made it sound like she was reading off a bullet point list of arguments.

“Did you have any concerns about the effects on your public image?” If Mia noticed how he glanced down at her cross necklace, Jared couldn’t tell.

“Raphael assured me we could keep it on the down low, he’s had enough experience not to turn this into a media circus. He kept his promise—for the most part.” She looked him over as if to confirm that he was the exception.

“Okay, but don’t you think erotic hypnosis is a bit too... out there for the mainstream you’re trying to appeal to?”

“Oh, don’t be such a prude. This is a space that’s rapidly expanding and evolving.” He was still failing to reconcile the Catholic faith she made such a big deal out of with the way she was talking and all he’d seen so far.

“It definitely looks like it has been with Levitsky in charge. I noticed you’re on a first-name basis with him already—how well-acquainted are you two?”

Once again, Mia’s mind seemed to drift off somewhere else entirely for a moment. “Oh, very... Being the main presenter for his event, we get to have a lot of one-on-ones. He can be very... demanding, but the reward makes it all worth it...”

“The reward?” He wasn’t sure how, but a line of drool had already formed and was dropping from Mia’s mouth.

She wiped it clean as she was back on the ground. “Oh, uh, meeting the fans, I mean. And the money isn’t bad, either.”

He didn’t want to press her on the financial details, so he chose a different topic. “So, you’re quite the VIP. Have you entrusted your personal safety to Levitsky as well?”

“Oh yes, I can trust Mr. Levitsky with everything... In fact, his security guard is, uhm, nevermind, actually.” Mia’s eyes were unsure of where to look, and eventually fell to her own lap.

Jared never quite got where the guard went, but Mia’s behavior only became stranger the longer the interview went on. Eventually, he decided to get out her hair and leave her alone to prepare for her next show. As the door to her suite closed behind him, he swore he heard her breathe a long sigh of relief, like she’d just gotten away with something.

The PEHyCon buffet had everything a person could ask for and then some. Though most days Jared took care of his body, conundrums like the one he’d found himself covering for the Morning Herald required burning extra calories, and that meant a refill of the whole plate. By the time he was done eating and ready to dive back into the convention, he felt like he was inching closer towards an explanation that made sense in his mind. It wasn’t one that made sense in the minds of most, though.

Somehow, at some point, Mia Salvadori must have fallen under a hypnotic spell. Jared had arrived here Friday morning not quite sure whether he believed in hypnosis, but he found it hard to believe that a crowd of hundreds was showing up here for three days just to fake it. Occam’s Razor would normally direct him away from thinking this was a nefarious mind control plot to grab a smoking hot showbiz name, but in this case it was pointing him to just that—the coincidences and the weird interactions were too many, and this simple idea resolved them all.

Jared was still eating a chicken drumstick over a paper plate as he made his way to the central ‘pavilion’, from where one of the many helpers or signs would point him to a room with something interesting going on. He threw his leftovers in a trash can and turned right, where a ‘hands-off orgasm’ demonstration would be apparently taking place.

“...now, let’s see how she responds to my touch.” A young man in a checkered shirt and wire frame glasses was evidently finishing his demo on a young blonde by touching her exposed knee with a single finger. As soon as his touch ed, the woman started convulsing, her limp head going back up as a powerful climax coursed through her. The man was there to her, steadying her body while she came but also providing further fuel for her enduring orgasm. Most in the crowd of twenty or so had looks of contemplation or fascination, with only a few whispers going back-and-forth mainly from couples looking to try this in one of the many hotel rooms PEHyCon had arranged for them.

Eventually, after the man made sure the blonde was safe on her chair, he let go and left her to finish coming in peace. Once she was past the wave, he snapped his fingers and she woke back up with a wide grin, moving a strand of hair away from her face. The audience clapped, and the woman knew she must’ve done something correctly, no doubt from the wetness in her panties.

Just as ‘Shirley’, her name was, left, a looker in her early twenties with a long mane of brown hair stood up right in front of Jared to take her place. The induction commenced, but he hardly had the patience to wait until this new pretty face was under and ready to cum on command. “These usually take ten to twenty minutes,” an older man sitting next to Jared remarked when he heard him grumble at how tedious the repetition of the mantras was becoming. He snapped some pics and left for a different session.

There were plenty for him to choose from, whether it was therapeutic hypnosis, catatonic states or some good old-fashioned ‘turn into a cat’ for those who wanted to have a laugh between all the serious, practical demonstrations. The whole day, he’d been dreading the prospect of being called to volunteer as a subject, but mercifully every room seemed to include a young woman straight from the pages of a magazine to relieve him of the opportunity.

Slowly but surely, his digital camera filled up with footage of attractive individuals from all walks of life going under and his conviction grew that something of the sort had happened to Mia Salvadori, too.

As he was preparing to head off for the night, however, the actress made another appearance. This time, she wasn’t up on stage but down with the common folk. Specifically, she was engaged in lively conversation with a blue card-carrying attendee.

“Oh, that’s so kind of you to say!” he heard her say giddily. Her outfit today was a step beyond Friday’s, a form-fitting yellow cocktail dress with matching high heels and a healthy dose of golden bracelets and earrings. The man she was talking to was about her age and had an arm wrapped around her waist as they talked, neither finding it odd in any way.

“Those earrings are, uhm, really cool,” he said shyly, and she beamed at him immediately as if to let him know he was doing a great job. The tone of his voice was a stark contrast to his arms acting like the actress was his girlfriend. After a couple more dry compliments, he nodded to a nearby attendee and walked down a hallway with Mia still in his arms, leaving Jared dumb-founded.

Sunday

The night before, Jared did a lot of research and consumed even more coffee. Looking up pictures from last year’s PEHyCon, he found that just about half of them included Mia Salvadori, a year younger and partaking in the events without a word on her social media. A year before that, it was instead a different beauty with light brown hair wearing the pink card. Despite a complete absence of her name from website announcements, online posters and Instagram posts, a reverse image search confirmed she was Isabel Colmenares, a Spanish model. A slightly more plausible choice to be presenting this show—if motorcycle expos could get models to stand around and pose with their products for a whole day, why couldn’t Levitsky pull off something of the sort? Mia was on a whole other level, though, having ten times the online followers and being a household name.

Last afternoon’s ‘incident’ had sealed the deal. Mia was awfully nice to every fan, yet standoffish to the only media person there—when someone like her should be the exact opposite! With that thought in mind, he went up the hotel’s steps once again on Sunday morning to greet the woman in charge of handing out cards.

“Good morn—oh, shit!” Jared raised a hand to greet her, but it caught his key fob on its way out of his coat pocket and sent his keys flying behind the woman. Just like I practiced, he thought. While the organizer turned around to look for the keys and bent down to grab them, it was all too easy to swipe a blue card and stuff it under his coat.

“Here you go.” She presented him with the keys. “Better be careful next time you greet someone!”

“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.” Armed with the of a veteran, Jared walked inside the convention and swapped it with his own red card around his neck. He had to keep a low, unassuming profile or else he’d be recognized, but having changed just about every item of clothing on him would help. His inexpensive jeans and sweater were more in line with what the guys here wore.

The camera had to go, too, but thankfully there was a cloakroom for that. When he was done, Jared could come pick up the item numbered #5032 and no one would be the wiser.

With everything taken care of, he was free to roam the convention like someone who owned the place. Already, the looks he was getting were less suspicious and just fewer in general. Once he had the confidence of a regular, he went up to a man who he vaguely recognized as a speaker at a previous session and asked the same question he’d had so many times before. “Excuse me, do you know where I could find Ms. Salvadori?”

The man’s tone was anything but evasive this time. “Oh, Mia? Sure, follow that hall to the end and push on the door to the right. At first it’ll feel like it won’t budge, just keep pushing.”

“Thanks, dude.” Jared gave him a pat on the back and headed straight for his target. Evidently, Mia’s whereabouts were only for blue cards to know—he dreaded the implications.

True to the man’s words, the door was hard to open and a er-by would come to believe it was locked. Still, all it took was some more effort and Jared found himself in front of another hallway that seemed to run parallel to the one he’d just gone down, only in the opposite direction. At the end, two men with the same blue card as him seemed to be taking a smoke break, standing outside a room where the commotion was occurring. He walked closer and listened in on their conversation.

“...all I’m saying is, I’d like to go home with a permanent souvenir. I know folks like you don’t want your wife seeing, but I want something to these days by.” The younger man exhaled in frustration.

“Why are you so hung up on this? It’s exactly why Raph made Memory Lane, so you can revisit all the nice photos and videos in a safe space with zero risk of them leaking. I already saw mine from last year, and next year you’ll be able to reminisce on your current adventures too.” The bald man threw his finished cigarette away and immediately lit a new one .

“Bah, it’s not some magnanimous gift. He just wants us to keep paying these exorbitant fees every year, even if it means locking our own sex tapes behind them.”

The two of them didn’t seem to pay Jared much attention as he approached, and the sounds from inside the room grew. Lips smacking, muffled moans, slaps on soft skin. The older guy must have sensed his trepidation because he addressed him. “First time coming here?” Jared nodded weakly. “Sunday morning’s a bit late to , but I’m sure the others will make space for you.”

He pushed the door open and there, in the middle of the room, stood Mia. Though men surrounded her in every cardinal direction, she was still in full view. All she wore was a black satin thong, equally black stiletto heels, her cross necklace and the pink card. She was bent over at the waist, sandwiched between a blowjob and having her ass reamed while her two delicate hands dutifully pumped two cocks to her left and right. Her expression was hard to make out with her lips locked around a man’s rod, but her eyes were glassy.

Jesus fucking Christ. Once he’d fully processed the scene, including the dozen or so men standing back and waiting to take their turn, Jared’s first instinct was to step back and head out the way he entered.

“The line to get head is this way,” a fellow with messy hair who barely looked to be college age informed him as he pointed with his thumb. “She just had her reinforcement session this morning, so she’s performing the best she ever will until the next Con. Girl can go non-stop on all holes until Raph closes shop.” He glanced at the brunette, seeing lines of drool dribbling down from her mouth as she ionately deep-throated one of the guests. The room itself was mostly featureless, with only a fluorescent lightbulb on the ceiling highlighting Mia’s back and a cardboard box full of smartphones.

“Uh, thanks.” Jared didn’t get in line, instead continuing to observe and noticing the security guard in one corner, squarely focused on the well-being of the actress as she was manhandled by a rotating cast of four. So that’s why he was nowhere to be seen outside. He took the opposite corner of the room as if the guard was his opponent in the ring, his eyes downcast as he planned his next step.

Holy shit, it’s an actual gangbang. No wonder everyone was so defensive about her. He watched as Mia let the dick in her mouth slip out just as its owner came, painting her face in a streak of white from forehead to chin. She kissed the last cum off his tip and smiled at him like a lover before he was replaced. Though it was horrible, Jared couldn’t help but get hard at the sight taking up his field of view. Who knew Mia Salvadori was the leading expert in taking dick?

I’ve got to blow the whistle on this. By the time he was able to pry his eyes off the starlet, she’d crossed her arms in front of her chest to give handjobs with opposite hands. She was still just as good at it.

The line for a handjob isn’t too long. Maybe I could wait for a minute, make sure for myself that she’s... Fuck!

Jared left before the temptation could win him over, making an excuse about feeling unwell before starting a light jog to get back to the main area. A vague plan had formed in his head to get Mia out of this predicament, but he didn’t like the odds much. Maybe she’s really such a big slut on her own? No, no, I definitely heard them say ‘reinforcement session’.

He made it to the public area, where everything was the usual, though the stopwatches and spirals on screens felt more sinister than ever knowing their true potential. I guess this forever settles the debate of whether hypnosis is real or not. A large buffet was mostly untouched this time of day, the breakfast food having just been swapped out for lunch. Jared looked for the item he knew he’d seen somewhere in there.

At last, he found it. A pile of small ketchup packets, red like Mia’s lipstick, from which he grabbed the top one before dashing back to the secret hallways. As he neared the entrance to the orgy room, he assumed a more laid-back posture, hiding the packet in his coat and opening it slightly so that the sauce was ready to be squeezed out at a moment’s notice.

Not much had changed in the couple minutes he’d spent away except for some of the faces surrounding Mia. One of them leaned forward to whisper a specific instruction into her ear, and she giggled. It was never too soon to save her from having more dicks inside her: he rushed forward, his palm concealing the ketchup packet, to fake her having an injury but was soon stopped by several hands.

“Hey!” the guard barked. “There’s a line for a reason.”

Conceding that he had a point, Jared withdrew and stepped behind the others waiting to Mia’s left. Whether the difference in the size of the two side queues had anything to do with which hand was her dominant, he didn’t know. Now all he had to do was wait.

A couple of minutes later, the journalist’s turn arrived and he tried to look as cocky as the rest of them when they got their chance. While he unbuckled his belt, Mia spit on her hands to add some lubrication before grabbing his member without even looking. After a second, she gave him the courtesy of turning her head and nodding while she went down on a man nearly twice Jared’s age.

Mia’s handjob had everything a man could ask from one. Her hand moved all the way down to the base of his shaft in increasingly faster motions, her fingernails teasing his pubes. It was obvious she’d practiced for a long time, and Jared decided to grant himself the satisfaction of just a second—no, a few seconds—of a Hollywood star jerking him off.

Fuck, she’s so good at this I might finish before I can kick off my plan. Thankfully, she slowed down to reach to her right and gargle another dude’s load—the other handjob recipient, not the guy who looked on the verge of retirement. That was when Jared sprung into action.

He leaned forward, taking out the ketchup and clumsily smearing it on Mia’s knee as fast as he could. The sauce wouldn’t stand up to scrutiny, but he hoped to capitalize on the panic to get her out quickly. “Act like you got hurt, it turns me on like crazy,” he whispered to her. In all this noise, he could be sure she was the only one who heard.

“Woah, woah, our girl hit her knee somewhere!” Jared took a few steps back, trying to get the room’s attention. “I need to get her to the restroom A-S-A-P so she can get cleaned up.”

Most pairs of eyes fell on the fake injury, and he itted it was quite convincing at a glance. Small beads of red were leaving trails across her shin, glistening under the intense light from above. It looked ugly, and it diluted the perfect fantasy Salvadori had been crafted into for these—he could finally say it, guilt free—freaks. “Ow, it huuurts!” Mia whined like a schoolgirl, eyeing Jared for his approval. He gave her the tiniest nod and took her hand to lead her out of this place.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The guard stopped him once again.”

“It’s a medical emergency. I can patch her up real soon, I did some first aid training at the shop I work at,” Jared replied with a confident look. Mia’s acting had sold most guys, especially now that she was touching her fresh ‘wound’ and making them worry she’d get blood all over their dicks. The guard was in the minority for wanting her to stay.

“Fine, but I’m coming with. This isn’t a way for you to spend some extra quality time with the lady,” he insisted as he led the two of them out of the room. Jared wrapped an arm around Mia, providing that would be unnecessary even if the injury wasn’t a ploy. Now, he just needed to get her a few thousand kilometers away from every card-carrying member of this hellhole.

“Are you suuuure I’m gonna be okay?” Mia asked with a pout as she sat next to the sink in the women’s restroom. She was currently putting her long legs on display while Jared pretended to take care of her for the sake of the security guard waiting outside.

“You’ll be right as rain in a few minutes, as long as you just do as I say.” Jared caressed her thigh as he spoke—only because it seemed to put her at ease.

“Oh, I love doing that,” she said proudly. He started pacing across the room, weighing his options, when her leg suddenly extended again and pulled him right back into her arms using her heel. How much practice had this woman put into seduction to satisfy this cult? “Wanna do it here? Seb won’t mind as long as I pay him back later,” she said as she waved to the guard with sparkling eyes.

“I’d love to, but I’m really preoccupied right now,” Jared responded, squirming out of the space between her legs in a Herculean effort. Having sex would only set my plan a couple minutes back, and not make it any less likely to succeed if we just—

“What’s so importaaaant?” She licked her lips, checking her makeup in the mirror. Despite the non-stop blowjobs, she’d found the time to fix it. “Why would you drag me here alone if you don’t use any of my holes?” Even her annoyed voice sounded sweet as fuck.

Jared leaned in to whisper to her. “Listen to me, once we head out of the bathroom, you’ll walk in front of that Seb guy. When I shout ‘Go’, you’re gonna take a sharp right turn and run with me to the parking lot.”

“If I do that, are you gonna fuck me?” The prospect seemed to excite her more than anything else.

“I’ll fuck you harder than anyone’s done before,” Jared assured her. It wasn’t hard to pretend at all. “We’re done here!” he announced to Seb as he escorted Mia out of the restroom. As ordered, she ran in front of the guard with only Jared’s coat to preserve her dignity.

He’d taken note of the exit on his way there, though seeing Mia’s ass bounce in that thong almost made him miss it. “Go!” he shouted at Mia, who sprinted in the right direction despite her highly impractical heels. He ran after her, leaving Seb, the older of the three, in the dust. Guess you didn’t think about hiring a security guard who regularly does cardio.

“Come back here, you bitch!” The empty hallway offered no obstacles, though Jared managed to move a trash cart between him and Seb during their escape. Their foe was too slow to avoid the impact, and lost valuable time as Mia ran miraculously fast given her footwear, with no sense of the trouble they’d gotten into.

Panting, he made it to the parking lot second to the actress. “How do you even... Nevermind. That’s my car.” He unlocked his Honda from a distance, and Mia gladly walked to it. She took the front seat while Jared started the car, still not fully comprehending what was going on. He hoped her wetness wouldn’t leave a mark on his car seat.

“Alright, Mia, we’re leaving this place. It’s no good for you,” he broke the news to her as he was leaving his parking spot.

“What? Why?” She sounded disappointed, and the coat had fallen off her shoulders. Jared adjusted it as best he could while he drove off.

“It’s a terrible influence for you. You’ll go be free again in LA, but first I have to get the full story from you.”

“The full story? Is this because you’re a guy from the papers?” she asked. Maybe she’s not a total ditz when enthralled like this. “Fine. Can I at least blow you on the way there?”

“Hold off, it’s dangerous while I’m driving.” Seb was now in their sight, but he stood no chance of catching up to a vehicle—even an old Honda. However, he wasn’t alone. This time, Raphael Levitsky stood by his side, looking enraged.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Geller?” The head organizer cautiously approached the car as it slowly drove off. “You know there’s no chance of getting what you want out of this, right?”

“I only want to save her from your mind games, you sick fuck!” Jared didn’t speed away yet, though he knew he could at a moment’s notice. Mia merely observed like she was a kid watching her parents argue over custody.

“No, you don’t. I was told you ed the activities in the back, in fact. What you want is to reveal an exciting scandal, and I’m not letting that happen.”

“You have no clue what you’re talking about!” At last, he hit the gas to exit the lot.

“Mmm, what was all that about?” Mia now stretched her legs on the dashboard, no doubt giving a show to anyone who happened to walk in front of them. They were out of the convention grounds and in plain view now, which meant having to worry more about onlookers who weren’t part of the exclusive hypnosis-lovers-Mia-Salvadori-gangbangers club. It being Sunday, though, there weren’t many.

Jared’s mind raced as he widened the distance between them and the convention, ensuring they weren’t being followed through frantic checks of the rear-view mirror. He’d have to get every word out of Mia about this event and the perpetrators, which wouldn’t be hard with her in this suggestible state. He had just stopped next to a coffee shop to start a voice recording on his phone and get the basics while the iron was still hot, when he noticed Mia read something on her phone and shoot her head back.

“Mia? Hey, hey, you okay?” Seeing her blank, expressionless eyes and her godlike body be perfectly rigid, Jared would be worried about some kind of health episode if he hadn’t just found out about her history with scumbag hypnotists. He grabbed her wrist as he examined her face for any hint of her predicament. Okay, normal pulse. She’s still breathing fine too. Then, his eyes landed on her phone. She had her text messages open, and from the looks of it she’d exchanged a whole lot with whoever had just texted her.

The last message, sent just a minute ago, read two simple words in all caps: ‘BLANK SLATE’, and the sender was Raphael. “Fuck, Mia, can you hear me?” He raised one of her eyelids, but she didn’t react. Jared held his breath for a moment before the actress finally returned to her senses, slowly shaking her head and assuming a casual posture. “Sorry, you were saying?” Her sultry, borderline ditzy voice was already gone, replaced by the one he’d heard in her countless interviews and red carpet events.

“Yeah, I really wanted to get a rundown of what happened at the Convention.” Relieved, he started a recording.

“What convention?” She raised one of her neatly trimmed eyebrows in confusion.

“No, no, no... The one you were just at? , being surrounded by all those dicks?”

She laughed at the last sentence. “What are you talking about?” If it couldn’t be misconstrued to mean douchebags, Mia would’ve almost been offended.

Blank Slate, I should’ve guessed. “Does the name Raphael Levitsky ring a bell?”

“Not... really. Was he one of the dicks?”

“Well, not today, but...” Jared started the engine again. The hotel still had the posters up; he could drive back there, get some hard evidence, the kind that police would listen to, if he just snapped a few pics with his... “Shit. I left my camera there.”

“You sound really confused,” Mia remarked as he drove back to the convention—for what reason, he didn’t know yet. She adjusted the coat on her shoulders, wearing it like it was the latest fashion trend and she hadn’t been naked ten minutes ago.

Making it back to the source of all this evil, Jared punched his car horn in disappointment. Somehow, the posters advertising Mia Salvadori as the star of the show had vanished, replaced by a version omitting her presence. Levitsky had gotten busy. “Let’s go back to my place until we can figure this out.”

“Woah, at least buy me dinner first,” Mia joked, but otherwise offered no resistance to the suggestion. She swiped some cum off her lower lip with her index finger, rubbing it against her thumb in an attempt to identify the mystery substance. Unsure, she sucked both fingers clean.

Tuesday

“These guys were super thorough. I even tried the Internet Archive but your name is nowhere to be found,” Jared explained as he took a sip of his morning coffee. Two days of research had all but confirmed that Salvadori’s name and face had been scrubbed from every PEHyCon website and social media .

Mia was sprawled on his couch, wearing his pajamas that looked comically oversized on her lean build. “I still don’t get why you think I was in that conference thing to begin with. I stayed in a hotel all weekend.”

“We’ve been over this a hundred times already. You can’t trust your memories. Not when they’ve been tampered with,” he insisted.

“Whatever. If I’d met any of these guys whose photos you showed me, I’d .” Mia took a swig from a bottle of wine they’d opened last night. She was still brimming with sexual appetite, and with Jared refusing to take advantage of her, she’d resorted to alcohol to drown it out.

“Well, I’ve tried everything I could to prove it to you.” Jared’s Word document, meant to form a huge exposé on the massive underground network of hypnosis used for sex, still only contained a few paragraphs of his own personal experience and a couple pictures of the Spanish model from two years ago that Raph’s people had missed during their scorched earth operation. “Go get dressed. Your flight to LAX is in a few hours and I just called an Uber.”

Mia obeyed, much like she’d done with most of his orders these last days. The effect was wearing off since her mental reset on Sunday, but she’d be out of his hair before she could start truly questioning him about his role in this story.

She returned wearing one of Jared’s old sweatshirts with his university’s logo on it and a pair of baggy jeans. The outfit clashed with the high heels she’d kept from Sunday, but being judged for her fashion taste was the least damage to her character she’d receive this week. “Do I look good?”

“You look amazing, Mia. It’s been nice having you crash here, but you’ve got a lot of shooting to do in California. You already got a few messages from producers calling you out for bailing on them.”

That was another thing: he’d spent quite some time sifting through Salvadori’s texts, most of it on her interactions with Raphael. Next to his laptop, a notepad recorded every post-hypnotic trigger she’d been sent in the last thirteen months. Their function was easier to figure out for some triggers than it was for others—‘SHOW-OFF’ at 10:58 followed by a nude pic as a response at 11:01 wasn’t exactly subtle.

“Thanks for taking care of me, love. Bye!” He waved at her and like that, Mia was gone, walking out of his apartment door to catch her ride. Throughout her whole stay, she’d claimed she was fine and vehemently refused to go see a de-programming therapist. It meant the only barrier stopping a future reunion between her and Raphael’s guys was himself. To that end, he was keeping the notepad full of triggers and their likely uses close to his chest. I’m not gonna use it for personal reasons, he promised to himself. I hope.