Here's another of my 'horror' style mind control stories. I hope you enjoy! All characters are over eighteen.
***
I stepped into my family home and turned on the lights.
No-one leapt out from behind the couch. No sudden shouts, no calls of 'Happy Birthday.' No cake, no presents. I stood in an empty room. I frowned and reached for my phone, opened my messenger app and stared at the message within.
Tracey: Happy birthday Becca! Go home to go get your birthday surprise!
There was a new message below that.
Tracey: Go and check the laptop. Start with Tracey3.
I lowered the phone and walked into the living room. My stepfather's laptop was set up on the couch, the screen open. It had been linked to the TV, bathing the room in a digital glow.
I put down her bag and stared at the laptop. This was...well, I wasn't sure what it was. When my best friend had hinted at a surprise for my eighteenth birthday- something exiting, something I'd remember for the rest of her life- I'd allowed my imagination a little in the way of indulgence. Nightclubs, a trip out of town,
something
. A surprise party at the very least.
Instead; nothing. No Tracey, no mother, no older sister. None of my other friends. Not even my stepfather. Nothing but the laptop and the TV.
Sighing, I examined the laptop. I knew it well enough by now; Dan (I'd grudgingly moved on to calling him by his first name a few years back) was always on it, working from home on...well, that was something of a mystery. I knew he was an archaeologist by training but his work seemed to be in the private sector. Certainly he wasn't linked to any colleges or universities.
I glanced up at the statue that sat atop the living room bookcase. It was squat and dark, made from some glossy black stone. Dan had come back home with the statue and- from what I could gather- a rather impressive paycheck. The paycheck had gone into paying off the mortgage and a family trip to France; the statue had ended up atop the bookcase. It depicted a man, fat and squat and possessing of a swollen, erect penis that was almost comically big. Its black eyes gleamed with leering arrogance and it seemed to have the most amazing ability to stare at me whenever I entered the room.
I hated it.
I sighed and turned back to the laptop. I touched the mousepad and the image on the TV changed to a simple file registry. There were dozens of what looked to be media files, the files named along the lines of:
Tracey1
Stacey5
Pamela10
...what the hell?
I knew most of these names. My mother. My sister. My friend. Was this some sort of game? A puzzle I was meant to solve? I searched through the list of names and found Tracey3.
I clicked the file and the file played. The TV flickered to life.
***
Tracey sat on her bed. I looked at the friend I'd always seen as a sister- more of a sister than Maria ever had been- and took in the sight. Tracey was slim. She was pretty, her features more cute than beautiful, with grey-blue eyes and wavy chestnut hair. Her skin was pale, with a smattering of freckled adorning her shoulders.
Those grey-blue eyes stared at the camera with the quiet despair of a captured animal. My best friend wore only a bra and panties, and her hands clasped together, fingers tightly linked. She shivered. "Please don't."
A voice spoke from behind the camera. "Say your name."
"I don't know why you want me to-"
"Tell me your name. Tell it to the camera."
"I-"
"Do it."
She closed her eyes, her shoulders shaking for a moment. Then she took in a deep breath and said, "Tracey. My name is Tracey Ulton."
"How old are you?"
"Eight-eighteen." She looked up at the person behind the camera. "Please, could we just-"
"Shhh." The voice sounded achingly familiar. "What happened a week ago?"
"I came over. I, uh...I wanted to...to see Becca. But she wasn't there. But you were. And then you..."
She turns and her shoulders shake. When she looks up again I saw the glint of tears in her eyes.
There was movement. Someone moved onto the screen, stepping next to Tracey. I felt a shiver of shock as I recognised the man.
Dan.
Dan, the big, goof who had married my mother; Dan, who mumbled and looked off into the distance during family dinners. Dan, who could politely be described as strange and more easily be described as a massive, embarrassing dork who was too odd to properly hate.
Dan, who reached up and cupped Tracey's chin without hesitation, who spoke with a force that I did not recognise, who's eyes burned with a strange light I had never seen with anyone living. He spoke softly, gently and with a strange absolute certainty. "And then what happened?"
"You...you...seduced me."
"No."
"You did, you..."
"What did I really do?"
Tracey shuddered afresh, trying to escape his grip; but despite the pudginess of Dan's arm she did not budge. "Please..."
"Say it."
"You...you..." her eyes closed and she swallowed. "You raped me," she spat out.
The screen suddenly flared with static, the image growing hazy for a half-second before the disruption faded. When it cleared something had changed. Tracey still sat on the bed half naked, Dan still towered over her; he still gripped her chin. But eyes that burned with shame were now blinking in confusion, confusion and something else; something hot and soft and hazy. She let out a long, ragged sigh as Dan murmured, "Good girl. Say it again."
"You...you raped me." But there was no force behind the words anymore; no anger and certainly no pain. She said it again, as though tasting the words. "You raped me."
"And?"
"And I...it was..."
"What was it like?"
"Don't make me say it."
"What was it like?"
She muttered something under her breath.
"Louder."
Fresh tears welled in Tracey's eyes. "It was wonderful! I loved it! I loved it!"
There was a fresh split-second burst of static. When it had cleared Dan's hand was away from her chin. Tracey had slumped over, her hair covering her face in a curtain. She moaned, her body shuddering and then whispered, "God help me, I love it."
"And then..."
She looked up at him, her breath coming hard and fast. "I- I didn't tell anyone. Not Becca, not the police. I- I didn't know what to think. How to act."
"Mmmph." Dan reached down and then, with a swift, sure motion, unhooked her bra. I stared as my best friends small, perky tits were bared for the camera. Her breathing sped up and she licked her lips, as my stepfather leant down to cup one of her small, soft mounds. "And then what?"
"I uh...I came over to your place. Two days later."
"Oh? To talk to Becca? To talk to my wife?"
"No." There was no mistaking the husky tone in her voice, the way she looked at her rapist. "No, I came back when I knew they wouldn't be there." He gently pinched her nipple and she moaned loudly, eyes closing in pleasure. "I wanted to see you. To confront you."
"The truth." Both hands where now playing with her breasts, massaging and squeezing. "Tell me."
"I needed you to fuck me!" She writhed in his grasp, moaning and gasping as she said, "I wanted you to rape me again!"
"And I did. Right on this bed." He chuckled. "Very good. Good girl. Good little slut."
I shuddered in horror and Tracey beamed, as though the ugly, crude names were sweet terms of endearment. She licked her lips again as he took his hands off her breasts and began to undo his belt. I watched in horror as his pulled down his pants and then his cock flopped out.
It was... it as a monster.
Huge and veined and angry red, with a huge bulbous head. More than his voice, more than his certainty, more than the terrifying deeds he was admitting to- boasting about- I couldn't square that grossly masculine abomination of a penis with the friendly idiot that hummed along to Disney films. It struck Tracey on the cheek but instead of flinching she leant into its touch, sighing with dazed pleasure as she rubbed it along her cheek.
Dan said, "One more thing to ask, little slut. And then...then I'm going to fuck you a third time. I want to you tell the camera the answer. Are you ready?"
"Yes," she said, gazing up at the man with a hideous expression of worship.
"Who do you belong to?"
Tracey stopped. She blinked rapidly even as the head of that massive cock left a trail of pre-cum along her lower cheek. She closed her eyes and I could see the struggle, the girl she was and the girl her stepfather had- somehow- turned her into, both of them battling for my friend's soul.
Tracey opened her eyes.
"I belong", she said, "to Sudak."
My stepfather's hands closed around her head and pushed her forward.
I watched, tears in my eyes, as my best friend slid Dan's cock into her mouth, her lips split wide open, her eyes closed in pleasure. She bobbed back and forth along that enormous erection, jaw nearly distended as she slobbered and licked. Dan's hands touched the back of her head and without the slightest hesitation my friend, the girl who used to blush when she confessed her crushes, pushed her head forward until half the length of the massive cock was taken.