The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Type Writer Chpt. 1

I furtively took a drag from my cigarette as I went through where I was in my story. The main character, a kinda shameless self-insert, was meandering through his life. I had gotten him fairly well established. To be honest, anything more would be egregious. What I needed now was the girl. It was supposed to be a romantic comedy, a bit out of my normal wheel house, but something I thought would be relatively easy to do. Editor wanted me to write it as practice so that my personal kinks weren’t coloring the romance in my main series. 50 k words in a month? Easy peasy.

I had written all of one line. “It started when a new girl moved in next door.” Three days into November, and now I had a completely different thought: Fuck NaNoWriMo

The problem was with creating the girl. I had tried writing a generic person, someone built out of nothing but my mind and several sexual fantasies, but she came across as … flat. Not physically, I loved curves as much as the next guy, but with the emotional depth of a puddle of piss. So, next idea was to base her off of someone I knew. Problem was I didn’t have anyone I could use.

Any of my friends weren’t viable options, it would be far too creepy and off putting to write about how Sandra, my friend of 15 years, gave a blowjob. She was practically a sister. Likewise, I couldn’t use my sister or any of my family as a basis, because while I was many things, into incest was not one of them.

I didn’t have coworkers, being a self-employed author and all. Hells, I didn’t even have a cute girl who worked the counter at the local coffee shop. Bruno was a great barista, but cute is the last word I’d use to describe him.

I drew again when I noticed a small sedan pulling up. It wasn’t any of the cars I recognized, and in a small apartment building meant it wasn’t someone who lived here.

The car pulled up to the door, as if waiting for someone to come out. I’d have guessed Uber, but there wasn’t one of those light up thingies in the front. A friend? Then the window rolled down and a woman’s head popped out.

“Is this 316 North Washington?”

I blinked and nodded.

“Thank fuck,” she declared and fell back into her seat with clear relief. “I spent thirty minutes trying to move into 316 South Washington before we figured out the problem.”

I snorted in laughter before I could help myself. She looked a bit surprised, but not overly offended at my amusement and offered me a curious eyebrow.

“It’s a common enough problem. About once a month I have to yell at Amazon because one of their drivers dropped my delivery off at the wrong address.”

“Well, at least I’m not alone in my stupidity.”

“There is that,” I added affably before wincing at how bad that was. She was cute, I had just ed, but not my type. A bit too thin and lacking in the curves department for me to go for. Still, If she was moving in, it would be into the unit across from mine and the last thing I wanted was to have my neighbor hate me. Agreeing with self-depreciation wasn’t likely to win me any brownie points.

“Chris Fairchild,” I said pointing to myself. “I live in 3C. I’m guessing you’re the new tenant for 3D.”

She smiled, wide and full in a way you normally only saw in the movies. Unlike the movies, her teeth were a bit crooked, but it helped her feel a bit more real. “Andi Schmidtt. It’s short for Andrea in case you get any of my mail.”

I finally took a look at the backseat of her car. It wasn’t full, but there fairly clearly were several boxes laid out on the seats.

I gestured with my thumb over my shoulder, “I’m about to head up, do you want a hand with some of those?”

“Oh, please!” she enthused. “Just let me park!”

I nodded and dropped my cigarette in the ashtray. There was still half of it left, but I was trying to quit anyways. Not being able to smoke inside the complex had certainly helped curb the impulse, but it still wasn’t completely gone.

I shook my head and snapped back to Andi and her car as she finished parking. With a literal bounce she jumped out of the car and stood tall, stretching her back. She couldn’t have been more than five-two, but she didn’t let that stop her from pulling one of the biggest boxes out of the backseat to start.

“Well then,” she said, “Let’s get to it!”

* * *

It didn’t take much more than an hour to get all of the boxes moved into Andi’s new apartment. The furniture was due in tomorrow and was going to be brought by a professional moving company so she wouldn’t need my help again. I was making towards the door, job done when she bounded up to me. “Hey, I’m going to order pizza in a bit. What do you want on yours?”

“Pizza?” I dumbly asked.

“It’s the standard payment for someone who helped you move. Well, at least half of it. But given that I don’t have any beer or know where the closest liquor store is, we’ll just have to skip that part.”

I blinked twice, “Uh, sausage?”

“Great!” she said with another bounce. “I’ll unpack for a bit and then call it in an hour?” She paused and pursed her lips in thought, “Do you know where I can order from? I ed a Papa Johns on my way in, but…”

I nodded, “I like Marino’s around the corner. You’ll have to go pick it up yourself, but they actually do that full wood fired oven thing.”

“Okay, so Marino’s in just over an hour! I’ll knock when I’ve got it. See you soon Chris!”

“See you soon Andi,” I said before turning back to my door, suddenly in a hurry to get out of there. Woman who I didn’t really know and was well outside my typical preference?

A fire had been lit, I had found my romantic interest.

* * *

Just over an hour later, I sat back in my chair and looked over my notes for the novel. As tempted as I was to just start writing Andi into the story, I needed to build a profile for her first so I had something to refer back to as I worked. Plus, it would help me mark the changes I made so that the “any resemblance to actual persons” disclaimer wouldn’t be completely false. The character ‘sheet’ I was using for Andi looked something like this

There were several lines left blank about family history and relations that I could fill in later in service to the story. It wasn’t the ‘proper’ way to do one of these, but for someone who was looking to pump up their word count, it’d be good enough. Plus, most of that would be made up or come out as either the story was written or as I talked to Andi.

Which brought me to my first set of changes I needed to make. Calling the character Andi would just be problematic. I wasn’t sure what the name should be yet, but using Andi as a placeholder was just a bad idea.

Granted, it wasn’t a bad idea I was going to spend much time on. I clicked over to the ‘Name’ box and clicked M.

That couldn’t be the only difference, so I sat around, changing a few things here and there. I made her taller because I had always had a preference for taller women. She was also going to be a protagonist in a romantic novel, so the dull, ‘light brown’ would need to be punched up. After a few minutes, my character sheet now looked like this:

I was trying to think of any more changes when there was a knock on my door.

“Hey, Chris? It’s Mandi! Food’s here”

“Just a sec Andi” I said before pausing. Did she just say Mandi? I must have been stuck in writer brain mode. I put my computer to sleep and made my way to the door, smelling Marino’s before I even touched the deadbolt.

“Man, that smells good,” I said as I threw the door open.

“Yeah it does,” Andi said as she slid into the room past me. It must’ve been a trick of the light, or her shoes, but it was harder to manage than I thought it should have been for someone so short. I brushed it aside and busied myself with relocking the door.

“Plates?” she asked.

“Right of the sink I responded, middle shelf.” I paused and turned, “Let me know if you need help reaching…”

“Got it!” she yelled before turning with the plates in hand. She looked taller, had to have been taller given how easily she got those plates down. Heels, I guessed. Impressive ones at that given she looked a solid six inches taller. Maybe that would be a good detail for Mandi. ‘Loves to wear heels’. Could sell it to the female readers as a sign of femininity and the male readers as sexy. Certainly would help with adding depth.

I’d also have to revise my notes. Looking at her inside, under the lights of my apartment, she wasn’t pale at all. The tan must’ve just been missed, her skin made to look paler against the darkness of the asphalt and moving boxes. It was a faint tan, for sure, but definitively there. My small change would have to go bigger to help set Mandi and Andi apart.

Shaking my head I made my way over to the breakfast bar where Andi was setting up pizza and plates. She had gotten two larges and I gave them a skeptical look. I might be able to put an entire pizza away, but Andi was too small to do that.

“I don’t know about you,” she said as she put six pieces of pepperoni on her plate, “But I’m famished. I swear, we only moved maybe a dozen boxes, but I feel like I’ve been at it all day.” She quickly took a bite and let out a small moan, “Fuck, that’s good”

I shook my head, pushing away the thoughts that the moan had inspired and shrugged, “I can’t comment. I’ve been working all day and likely forgot lunch.”

“Work from home?” she asked between shoving pieces into her mouth. It wasn’t sexy, at all, but it was refreshing to see someone so unashamedly enjoying something, which was appealing in its way.

“Author,” I said between my own, much smaller, bites.

“No shit,” she said, her eyes wide, “I’m jealous. I always wanted to write, but could never glue myself to a desk long enough to do it. Too much energy, too much go.”

Something about her face was bothering me, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, so instead I stalled for time. “Oh, so what do you do?”

She swallowed and pulled the next slice of pizza away from her mouth to answer, “I’m a nurse,” she quickly answered before taking another bite. “Just got a job at Walker Memorial, why I moved to town.”

I nodded as I desperately tried to find what my brain was telling me was off.

“Oh, specialty?”

“ER,” she guiltily itted, “Keeps me on my feet and hustling. Good use of my energy.”

I nodded still not quite spotting whatever was missing, “I can imagine. When do you start?”

“Tuesday,” she said between another set of bites, “But enough about me, what about you! What are you working on? Genre.”

“It’s a romance novel,” I confessed almost as guiltily, “Not my usual fare, but a challenge from my editor for NaNoWriMo. He wants me to branch out.”

“Oooo, spicy,” she said. “Am I looking at the next Nora Roberts.” She paused to swallow, before hastily clarifying. “But male.”

I laughed, “No, nothing quite like that. It’s unlikely I’ll ever even sell this book. Editor thinks that writing a romance novel might help improve my writing of romance in my main series. Obsidian Nights. Have you heard of it?”

She quickly shook her head, and while I tried not to be disappointed, I was unsurprised. The novels sold well enough online, but most of the sales were digital. Not the type of thing you’d find in a Barnes and Noble.

“That’s a shame,” she said, “I enjoy me a good romance novel. I always like imagining that I’m the female lead, being swept off my feet. It’s pure fantasy, but it’s fun.”

I laughed, “Well, I guess I’m not much different. The male character’s a bit of a self-insert. Lazy writing, I know, but the point here isn’t to flesh out characters, so lazy is okay. Makes it easier to write.”

“Write what you know,” she sagely agreed. “And the lady? Assuming it’s a lady.”

“It is,” I quickly agreed.

“What’s she like? Wait… no. How does he describe her, what catches his attention?”

I blushed slightly, not used to such probing questions from someone so… new. But, I made my best of it. “She barely gave me a glance, but in the brief second I saw her eyes, they looked like the ocean. Deep and unknown, something to be explored. Something untamed.”

There was a long pause, before she shook her head. “Wooooow. That’s bad.”

“It’s a first draft,” I said a bit defensively.

“It’s an atrocity,” she rebutted. “She’s aloof and dangerous, but she’ll just happen to fall for the guy? That’s not a woman, that’s a manic dream girl here to shake up his boring life. Any man who comes up to a woman and makes her feel like a conquest or adventure and not a person is going to get the cold shoulder not her number.”

I gave her a level look, “I’ve read several novels where lines like that worked.”

“Trashy romance novels are a dime a dozen. If you’re trying to write a better romance, think more Gone With the Wind and less bodice ripping. If anyone ever described my eyes anything like you did, I certainly wouldn’t want to date them.”

“Why…” I started, before looking at her eyes. They were, in fact, seafoam green. Which they definitely weren’t earlier. Unless I had imagined that?

“Hey,” I said, “Odd question.

“My favorite type!”

“Do you wear s?”

“Nope, never needed them.”

I nodded, “And a second one. How do you spell your name?”

“M-A-N-D-I,” she spelled out. “It’s short for Amanda. Don’t worry, I get asked that all the time. ‘i or y’?”

I nodded numbly as she went on about… something. Ways to write romance I think, but my mind was at my computer. There was no way what I had thought just happened, did.

Was there?

I carefully looked at the floor as if I was deeply contemplating her words, but what was instead looking around the breakfast bar at her feet, looking for the heels I thought were there.

She was barefoot. 10 little unpainted toes practically wiggling at me.

Holy shit, I wasn’t insane, she had actually changed. Or maybe not? She certainly wasn’t reacting like someone who had grown six inches in an hour? Did she just not notice? Or was I wrong and had just imagined her previous appearance?

What the fuck was going on?

* * *

I begged off further conversation after that, citing that tiredness had finally caught up to me. I promised we could talk more soon and she gave me a smile before leaving with her empty pizza box. The moment she left I was back in my office, rapidly jiggling my mouse to get the computer to wake up. The fans whirred to life and I came back to viewing my character sheet for her.

Holy shit, not only had everything I put come true, but the information she had given me had been filled in.

Fuck. This couldn’t be real. I was dreaming. I couldn’t believe this. This just didn’t happen. Did it?

I then spent the next hour googling ‘magically changing bodies’ and ‘computer changing bodies’ and finding nothing but a few erotic stories about a super PC program. Not exactly relevant for me since I was just using a standard word processor, especially since Mandi wasn’t my sister and I wasn’t in high school.

There just wasn’t anything useful out there. Just porn, smut, and debauchery.

At the end of this, quite honestly, I was half-convinced I had imagined the entire thing. I had forgotten or mised what I saw outside and what I had written was the actual truth. I looked really hard at that character sheet, torn between wanting to know if what had happened actually occurred and terrified that it had and I had this power.

Fuck.

Well, if there was one thing I could say about myself for sure is that I was more curious that was probably good for me. With shaky hands, I highlighted the description of her hair and deleted the description. I considered what to put for a second and ultimately decided I had already made one change according to my preferences, why not another? Carefully, I typed, worried that an errant spelling mistake might have some disastrous consequence.

I double checked the wording three times before putting my computer back to sleep and crawling into bed. Sleep didn’t come quickly, kept awake by apprehension at knowing what had happened.

When it came, it came with dreams. Dreams of the entire world having become clay beneath my fingers. People, cities, worlds! All changing as I typed. And then there was sex. Lots and lots of sex. The details were fuzzy in the way dreams always are when you awoke and I blamed them on the stories I had read in the name of research, but even without the thoughts filled my mind. I was harder than I had been a long while and while that demanded some attention, I was consumed with curiosity. The clock read six AM and it took all my willpower not to walk across the hall and pound on the door until Mandi woke up.

Instead, I took care of myself and then went about my morning. After the distractions of breakfast and showering, I tried to write, but spent most of the time bouncing between websites killing time and wishing my word processor had a version history button. I could have used undo a bunch of times, but I was afraid of contaminating my experiment. I couldn’t risk it, I had to know.

It was ten when I finally heard movement outside my door. With forced calm and feigned casualness I opened my door and poked my head into the hallway watching the moving men come by. Couch, table, bed frame, mattress, and several more boxes that I didn’t catch the labeling on. Between it all, I watched and waited for Mandi to show up. I could hear her in the apartment, directing the movers where to put things, but I wasn’t about to walk in. It was several minutes while I wanted, dying to know, before she showed up.

Her long auburn tresses unbound and plainly hanging past the small of her back to the top of her ass.

“Oh hey Chris,” she said with a small hop.

“Hey Mandi,” I said as calmly as I could, which wasn’t really much. “Say, you look different today.”

“Do I?” she asked, looking herself over and clearly giving it though, “I don’t feel different.”

“Did you do something with your hair?” I tried.

She shook her head, sending the locks cascading, but not into complete disarray. Clearly this was someone used to having long hair. “Nope. Only thing I did was take it out of the braid.”

“Hrmm,” I said in response, trying my hardest not to freak out. It was real. Holy shit.

“I was pretty tired,” she said after a moment. “I ed out pretty much right after I left your place. Exercise plus lotsa food equals food coma.”

“That must be it,” I said nodding, “You must be more awake.”

She laughed, “You’re a real card Chris.”

“Thanks?” I asked.

“It’s a compliment,” she clarified. “Look, I’d love to hang around and talk all day, but I’ve got an apartment to unpack and settle. I’ll see you around?”

A thought crossed my mind and I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

“Later,” she said, turning and leaving me in the hall.

I closed my apartment door and slowly made my way back to my computer. I stared at the character sheet document, still open on the screen in front of me. I could change reality. My first impulse was to just close the document, never touch it again. I didn’t know what the consequences of changing reality were, but I had seen enough derivations of A Sound of Thunder to know that any change I made could have wild and far reaching consequences. Nothing drastic had seemingly changed yet, but I had no idea what would be the change that would cause the butterfly effect.

I almost did it. Closed the document and walked away. But I’ve always been a curious person and the thought I had in the hallway came back to me.

“How far could I go?”

And I always had been more curious than was likely good for me. With a twist of my head and a pop of my neck, I sat down at the computer and got to work.