tagMind ControlObsessed with Mr. Alexopoulas

Obsessed with Mr. Alexopoulas


The kernel of this tale is the hypnosis and how an employer might exploit it; the rest grew from there. At this time there are no plans for additional chapters, although suggestions are always welcome.

The next one up, I expect within a couple of weeks, is a second installment of Omelettes for Breakfast. Several people requested a prequel describing how the mother came to be sexually involved with her children. I'd confected an explanation in my mind, briefly alluding to it in the story, so the story came together fairly quickly.

As always, all story characters engaged in sexual activities are eighteen years of age or older.

* * * * *

Since leaving our large full-service law firm for AlexLaw, a corporate/real estate boutique, my friend Lisa Romero didn't have time for lunch. AlexLaw, she told me, catered the meal (from the city's trendiest restaurants) for its employees, which reduced time spent eating, making more time for work, fostered camaraderie, and allowed everyone to discuss their projects and pick each others' brains. However, today she agreed to lunch, she'd detected the urgency in my voice.

I was sitting in her reception room, whose 68th floor window offered a breathtaking view of the city, looking at a stunning receptionist behind an exquisite glass desk. Her appearance, while meticulous, would have been frowned on at my conservative law firm; jewelry too bling, heels too high and narrow, skirt too short, all a bit too tight and stylish. It was also top-of-the-line stuff. I'd heard that AlexLaw paid top dollar, but still, what did a receptionist pull down at this place?

I checked her name, Kelly Hale. It was familiar; it dawned on me as Lisa came through the door.

Lisa is beautiful. When we went out at night, even now that we both wore engagement rings, drinks arrived in quantities neither of us could hope to consume, but she'd always been casual about her clothes. Now she was dressed like the receptionist, tasteful, but emphasizing her substantial charms: 129 pounds, five feet six and one-half inches (she was always precise about that half inch), round "C" breasts, slim waist, wide hips. She was also wearing more jewelry than normal except, I noted, for her engagement ring.

She hugged me and said, "Let me give you a tour of the place."

We ducked into her office - much larger than that at the old firm with a magnificent view of the harbor - then walked to the lunch room, where she introduced me to her fellow attorneys and staff, women of varying ages and ethnic backgrounds (AlexLaw was recognized for its progressive hiring practices), fit and beautiful, and, like Lisa, dressed expensively, distinctively, and in ways that accented the goods.

There was also a delightful odor. The soup and salad place we were going to would pale in comparison.

Lisa said, "Where's Mr. Alexopoulas?"

"He got a phone call."

I heard his voice as we came down the hall, a deep bass, rumbling sexy voice, and was a bit disappointed when we stuck our heads in his office. He was not the hunk I'd imagined. Short, my friend in her three and one-half inch heels would tower over him, his body was thick and powerful with a slight paunch, and his ruddy skin and dark curly hair confirmed his Greek ancestry.

He pointed at the phone, nodded to us, shrugged.

We backed out of the room.

* * * * *

With the memory of AlexLaw's lunch room fresh in my memory my thin soup and pre-packaged salad were thoroughly unappealing. I took a bite, suppressed my frown, and decided to satisfy my curiosity before getting to why I'd asked Lisa to lunch.

"Is your receptionist Jack and Gita Gale's daughter?"

Jack was Australian, Gita from India. They'd married, moved to Sweden, where they built the first of their upscale resorts that now ringed the globe.

"Yes, she finished her junior year in college. Gita asked Mr. Alexopoulas if he had an opening for her over the summer. Luckily our receptionist had just married one of the firm's clients, so we did."

"With her parents, I figured she'd start higher than a receptionist."

"Mr. Alexopoulas believes we should all be willing to do anything for the good of the firm. I've answered phones when they've needed answering. And she's a lot more than a receptionist. She comes in early, stays late, helps in a lot of ways. She was checking my calculations when you came in; we're down a paralegal, she also married a client."

The women in her office had been uniformly beautiful and engaging, I could see why they were being scooped up.

Then it was Lisa, not I, who got to the point. Holding up her finger, sans engagement ring, she said, "I guess this is what you wanted to talk about."

"Yes, Brian," - Brian, my fiancé, and Bill, hers, were best friends - "said you broke off your engagement last night. You and Bill were so happy, what happened?"

"Nothing really. It's not like he changed, or we had a fight, I've just decided to focus on my career. I don't have time for the kind of commitment Bill wants. I mean he's perfectly nice, but to be frank, he's not as interesting as the work I do for Mr. Alexopoulas. I've got no complaints about him, he's just not for me."

She checked her watch. "I gotta get back, I've got a big deal going."

Our conversation was nowhere near complete.

"Okay, but Friday night Brian is out of town. You and I are going out."

"Great, we can meet at my new place, but we'll need to make it an early evening, Mr. Alexopoulas has a project for me Saturday."

Surprised, I hadn't heard about a move, I said, "You're moving? I thought you liked your place. Do you need a hand?"

"Just got the word. I'm moving to the River North Condos. The move should be a piece of cake. Mr. Alexopoulas did work for the owner of this moving company. You designate where you want your stuff to go, then go to the office. They pack it, move it, unpack it, put it where specified; when you get home you're moved."

That sounded costly and the River North Condos were off-the-charts expensive.

"Lisa, I know you got a raise, but how can you afford this?"

"The moving company doesn't charge Mr. Alexopoulas or his employees. Mr. Alexopoulas also represented River North's developers. His fee included several condos. He rents them to his employees at below market rates, I'll be paying less than I'm paying now."

* * * * *

"Lisa, it's spectacular, two full bedrooms, view of the river."

"Yeah, amazing, isn't it? Mr. Alexopoulas is so generous. Would you hold my spare key and pass code in case of emergency."

"Of course. You look great. We'll be beating off the guys tonight."

"Thanks, but I'm swearing off dating for now, I want to focus on work."

Feeling my oats I said, "If you don't want guys buzzing around, you shouldn't dress like that."

With a dismissive look she said, "It's not for them. Mr. Alexopoulas thinks we should look our best at all times; take pride in our appearance, in ourselves, in our work."

* * * * *

All evening guys flocked to us, scrumptious guys, lots of scrumptious guys, scores of scrumptious guys, but Lisa was utterly uninterested. Instead our conversation kept returning to her job, Mr. Alexopoulas' name in every other sentence, his thoughts, observations, and preferences provided oracular status. And while I'd been convinced that after a few drinks I could keep Lisa out late, by 9:30 she was checking her watch.

"C'mon Lisa, let's hang, it's not like you're going to fall asleep this early."

"That won't be a problem. Mr Alexopoulas..." - fuck, did I need to hear anything more about Mr. Alexopoulas - "... has this relaxation tape. I fall asleep right away, wake up completely refreshed. I've never slept better."

By 9:50 we were back at her condo. The party in the nightclub downstairs had looked pretty hot, but after a futile effort to convince her to accompany me there for a final drink, I told her good night, kissed her cheek, went downstairs, ducked into the club.

There was something wrong. I didn't know what, but there was something wrong. I put down my drink, found a guy had already paid for it, thanked him, headed upstairs.

* * * * *

I knocked, knocked again, checked my watch, and thinking she couldn't possibly be in bed this early, she must be wearing ear buds, I let myself in. The apartment was dark but I heard something in the bedroom. I opened the door; she was in bed; there was a black box on the table beside her bed; music - minimalistic and repetitive - filled the room. It must be the relaxation tape. I yawned; she was right, the thing worked.

I was ready to back out when I heard Mr. Alexopoulas' distinctive timbre: "Relax, let the tension drain from your body. Stretch your right foot, your toes, relax them, your left foot, toes, stretch, relax, tension and anxiety flow away. Stretch your right leg, relax it, your left, relax, the tension melts away."

Lisa's otherwise inert body followed the directions, I did the same, could feel tension and anxiety drain from my body. The music was insipid, but penetrating in its hypnotic monotony. I yawned again.

"Stretch your fingers, let go, the tension flows out your fingertips. Tighten your arms, let go, the tension leaves through your shoulder, drifts far far away. Deep breath, hold it, let go."

Lisa breathed in and out, as did I.

"Roll your head on your shoulders, breath in, hold it, hold it, exhale, all the bad feelings, all the lingering tension float away, gone forever."

"You're ready, all tension is gone, body and mind completely relaxed, completely open."

While the music continued Mr. Alexopoulas stopped talking and freed from his voice, I gathered my thoughts and, muscles like jelly, reached for the door, then heard Mr. Alexopoulas say, "Stress gone, anxiety gone, you are in a deep hypnotic trance, defenses disassembled, mind open, ready to receive instructions. You must obey."

Lisa, in a voice certain and clear, said, "I must obey."

"Your function is to serve me, obey me, obedience fulfils you. Your commitment is total, complete, a commitment of your entire self. All your time, all your energy, the powers of your mind, the powers of your body, all belongs to me."

"Everything belongs to Mr. Alexopoulas."

Stunned, but so sleepy, it took me a moment to yell, "Lisa, wake up," but what came out was an indistinct mumble; my voice was weak. I had to turn that fricking machine off.

"Nothing is withheld. Devote your mind to me, work as hard and as often as I require. Devote your soul to me, be faithful and loyal. Devote your body to me, work out, perfect it, use it to satisfy my needs, the needs of my clients. You shall obey, you belong to me."

"I obey, I belong to Mr. Alexopoulas."

"Until coming to work for me your life was boring, uneventful, meaningless; Bill is nothing, you were right to end your engagement. Your job, the people you work with, and I are more vital, more interesting, than anything else. You will center your life on them, you will center your life on me."

"Mr. Alexopoulas is my center."

"Only through me do you have meaning."

"Only through you."

I stumbled to the machine, ran my hands over it, couldn't find an off button, couldn't find a switch of any kind.

"For the first time in your life you are free. Your sex drive has doubled, then tripled; you find me irresistible; your desire for me freeing you of all convention. You shall be my lover, share me with others, perform sexually for others as I require, craving whatever I require."

"Whatever you require."

You shall work-out, eat healthy food, sculpt and perfect your body."

"Sculpt, perfect my body."

I got down on my knees, reached behind the table, found the plug, pulled it from the wall, but the voice kept going, the music kept playing. There must be a battery back-up.

"Except when I require them, you will channel your sexual appetites to your work for me. You shall work hard, relentlessly. You shall obey."

"I obey."

Grabbing the corner of the table I struggled to my feet - it was hard, I was so tired - picked up the machine with two hands, it seemed so heavy, tried to bounce it off a wall, but it slipped from my hands and fell to the floor. I kicked it. It rolled, maybe six inches.

"You shall be, you are, happier than you ever imagined."

"Happy, happier than I ever imagined."

I shook Lisa, tried to wake her. She jerked, she mumbled something, then descended back into somnolescence. I shook her again, nothing. I had to get out of there, go for help.

"Feel the tension drain from your body, lay down, relax, be comfortable, welcome inevitable sweet beautiful sleep."

I made it to the door, grabbed onto its frame, stumbled to the floor, got to my knees, tried to stand, slipped back down. I was so tired.

"You're exhausted, tired, spent. Sleep is here."

I tried to get up.

"Sleep is here."

I had to stay awake.

"Sleep is here."

I closed my eyes, just for a second...

* * * * *

Zeus Alexopoulas' phone buzzed; Lisa Romero's pulse rate had spiked. He went to check the computer; it had reset, walking her back through the relaxation routine, her pulse rate was drifting down. He turned on the surveillance system, saw Lisa in bed, the machine on the floor, and a lump by the door. He zoomed in. It was Maria, the paralegal Lisa had brought by his office a few days ago.

Training the sound system on Maria, Mr. Alexopoulas heard the words, "I must obey," then leaned back in his chair. Lisa, his newest hire, had thoroughly integrated her conditioning. When she wasn't exercising her enhanced sex drive on him - she was a tornado in the sack - she was channeling it into long hours of first rate legal work. It was best to pair his employees up - there was only one of him after all - and let them satisfy each other's herculean sexual appetites. He was down a paralegal, Maria was beautiful, and Lisa had been unstinting in her praise of her and her work. Mr. Alexopoulas re-set the computer, intensifying its effect. Tomorrow Maria would volunteer to help Lisa.

Mr. Alexopoulas returned to his bed, where Kelly was waiting.

* * * * *

"Maria, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, feel wonderful actually. I can't remember when I last slept this well."

"Mr. Alexopoulas' relaxation tape is amazing, but still, why are you sleeping on my floor?"

"Last night, after we parted, I stopped at the club downstairs, had a drink, got myself all worked up over your being so centered on work, dumping Bill. I came back up to talk to you about it. When you didn't answer the door I figured you had your ear buds in, I mean you couldn't already be asleep, let myself in, went to your bedroom. Then it gets hazy, I remember you were in bed, music, Mr. Alexopoulas' voice. I'd had a few drinks, I must have dozed off."

"Well, do you still want to talk about work, and Bill."

"No, I feel foolish now. It must have been the alcohol talking. Your career and AlexLaw should be your focus. If Bill is not working for you, he's not working for you, it's not anyone else's business. You're my best friend, you have my 100% support. I do need to apologize for letting myself in."

"You're forgiven, and thanks for understanding."

* * * * *

Over coffee Lisa and I talked about the day's project. Feeling I owed her one for the breaking and entering thing and recalling how much I enjoyed working with her, I decided she needed the help of her (former) paralegal and best friend.

"Lisa, I've got to pick Brian up at the airport. He'll want to buy me lunch, but after that why don't I come to your office. It sounds like you could use some help and it would be great fun to work together again."

"It would be fun, but..."

"No buts, I'll see you at one."

* * * * *

Brian was talking, about something, I checked my watch.

"Honey I gotta run, I told Lisa I'd give her a hand."

"But what should I tell Bill?"

That's right, he'd been talking about Bill, why Lisa dumped him. We'd been through this. I'd told him, but he hadn't, or didn't want to believe me. I was getting exasperated.

"Look, she had nothing bad to say about Bill, she just wants to focus on her career. Now I need to get out of here."

"Honey, how about tonight?'

"I don't know how long Lisa and I will be. Do something with Bill, he needs a friend right now. We'll hook up later if I can. I'll text you."

* * * * *

Lisa and I were a team again, intense, focused, and by 6:00 - although it seemed more like fifteen minutes than five hours - we were wrapping up. Lisa sent Mr. Alexopoulas a status report; I downloaded and forwarded him our work, then texted Brian to let him know tonight was a no-go, that Lisa and I were hanging. I decided to ignore his whinny response - he was annoyed I was chummying up to the woman who'd just dumped his best friend - what I wanted to say would only have made matters worse.

Lisa's phone pinged.

"Mr. Alexopoulas wants a hard copy. I told him you'd helped, he invited you along. Wanna come?"

"Wouldn't miss it."

* * * * *

We were met at the door by Mr. Alexopoulas and Kelly - skin flushed, eyes slightly dazed, the outline of her nipples in her night shirt confirming she wore nothing underneath - and followed them to an elegant living room. Mr. Alexopoulas sat on a long leather couch, Lisa and I, laying out our materials, in chairs opposite him. After asking us what we wanted to drink Kelly handed us glasses of high-end water, then sat next to Mr. Alexopoulas, curling her lithe body into his.

Mr. Alexopoulas said, "Maria, while I appreciate your work, and what I've seen is first rate, I need to caution you, your employed by one of my competitors. We wouldn't want word to get back to your firm you helped me, it could cost you your job. Why did you do it?"

His solicitude was genuine; I could see why Lisa was so loyal to him. I could also see why Kelly was cuddled up to him. While my first impression had been correct, he was not traditionally handsome, there was something powerful and sexy about him. And while I wanted to answer his question, I struggled with how best to say: "I snuck into Lisa's apartment to urge her to quit her job, then fell asleep on her floor."

Lisa saved the day.

"Sir, Maria and I went out last night, talked about how much I love working for you, about breaking my engagement. After we said good night Maria went to the bar downstairs, had a drink, decided she wanted to continue the conversation. When I didn't respond to her knock - thanks to your black box I was fast asleep - she was concerned, I'd only been home a few minutes, and let herself in. She came to the bedroom to check on me, but she was tired, had a few drinks, and the black box did its thing. When I woke up this morning she was sleeping on the floor. We talked about work and Bill, but with a good night's sleep she agreed I'd made the right choice. Then we started talking about today's project and got excited about working together again."

I said, "I'm sorry for doubting you sir."

"No apology necessary, it's good you're concerned about your friend. Unfortunately I can't pay you for your work, that would be unethical since you're employed by a competitor, but how about a gift?"

He turned to Kelly who, after an appraising look, said, "Ikram, definitely Ikram."

I kept a straight face, that place was way out of my price range.

"I'll phone the store, ask them to stay open late. Lisa, while you're there please pick something out for yourself ."

Lisa had told me he was generous, but this was amazing. "Thank you sir."

"You're welcome. Lisa, after I review the work I'll send you an e-mail detailing the follow-up required. Will there by any problem in getting it to me by this time tomorrow"

"I don't anticipate any sir."

Knowing the prices at Ikram, I felt like I should help.

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