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Ali Landry

By S. P. Riley

I hate missing calls while I'm in the shower. The one time during the day that I am not around my cell-phone, is when I'm naked, Freud would have a field day. Okay so the voice mail gets to talk to someone named Ali Landry. At the time I had no idea who she was, but she wanted me, for my PI skills. My name is Robert Angst, and I am a private investigator how has mind control powers. According to the message there was a plane ticket waiting for me at the airport to come out to Beverly Hills, CA.

A quick packing job and a quick Internet search for Ali Landry. I printed out a few pages and then I had to get going. The trip from New York to Beverly Hills was longer than thought so I got to learn all about Ali Landry. Get this she was the 1996 Miss USA winner, I had no idea, but I'm not telling her that. Man she is hot. Born back in 1973 in the town of Breaux Bridge, Louisiana, and I have no idea where that is.

I said I was a PI, not a good PI. I use my mind control powers to get people to tell the truth and discover the facts, not to be smart. At least that is what my wife use to say, God rest her soul. If she even knew that I was meeting with a super-model then my face was open for slapping. I am a twenty-five year old with brown hair, brown eyes, a tan face, and a five foot ten frame.

I hate Beverly Hills, compared to New York, it's hot, the people have a fake smile quality, and I can't stand the idea that the only time you can wear black it at night. I took a cab right to the front door of a very nice apartment complex. Okay so I was expected and there stood a very nice brown hared woman with an hourglass figure that would keep time for years. If I was unethical I would use my powers and take her right her and right now, but I had a job to do.

"Miss Landry?" I said to the luscious woman in front of me.

"Mr. Angst," she said nodding her head, "please come in."

Her apartment was furnished in a way that made me long for New York. Everything was clean and bright, it seemed that everything was white or some shade of such. Ali Landry was dressed in hip hugging pale pants and a simple white blouse thin enough to show that she wears a bra. Her brown hair hung off her head making a lovely frame for her face that had no blemishes.

"Please have a seat Mr. Angst," Ali said indicating an overstuffed chair opposite the white couch.

"Please call me Robert," I said putting my ass on something I would rather be her.

"Then please call me Ali," she said with a smile, "Thank you for coming so quickly. I arranged that ticket hoping you would come, thanks."

"Don't thank me yet," I said thinking 'thank me, thank me' in the most sexual nature. "Why did you call me out here? I'm sure that there are other private investigators in California."

"There are," she said crossing her legs, "but you have a reputation for dealing with odd things, and getting results."

"Thank you, I think. Okay I'll bite what odd thing are you referring to?"

Ali stood up and went into a room and moments later came back with a manila envelope. "Back in 1998 I became known as 'The Doritos Girl' for the commercials I did for them. About that time about once every other month I would experience a black out for a night. One minute I was say eating lunch and the next I would wake up in a motel sometimes tied up and always naked. About three to four days later there would always be pictures sent of me before I was undressed and a lot after. I would do all types of sexual acts, but not remember doing any of them. I wouldn't remember anything. I went to the best hypno-therapists and none of them could explain the lost time. Yet these pictures show I did something."

Ali tossed about ten packets of photos on the table between us. I undid the rubber band on one of them marked for June 1999 Beverly Hills. There were pictures of things Ali was doing that I could make my wife do even if I did control her mind. I spoke up; "do any of these photos show anyone else?" "No, but the reason for you being here now is five nights ago it happened again, but this time there was only one photo sent," Ali said pulling out the only photo not bound by a rubber band.

The photo showed a pale room with flowers on the purple table next to the purple bed. On the bed kneeling was Ali pulling off a simple dark floral dress, and except for ear rings and white high-heel shoes, nothing else on. Her well-formed breasts were exposed and nipples that seemed to melt into the pink flesh. There were tanned lines around her pussy and her bush was nicely trimmed. There were two odd things about the photo, one she was smiling, and two her nipples were not erect.

"I feel so ashamed," Ali said drooping her head letting her brown hair cover her face.

"You had no control," I said looking at the other pictures, "is it always a motel?"

"Yes, sometimes it is in New York or LA or just about anyplace or a neighboring city. Now there is only one photo to let me know what happened, so where are the rest?"

"You want me to find them?"

"And put a stop to this! I never know when or where it will happen, and I want it to stop. If these every got out my future career is gone. I will have to pose for Jugs just to live."

"Are you a virgin?"

This made Ali pause, "No, I had sex when I was sixteen. I use birth control pills to give me an estrogen boost and clear up any acne."

"Have you ever told anyone else this?"

"My manager, and accountant that's the thing who ever this is never pays I always have to pay."

"Right, who else."

"Oh, I told my hair dresser once, she did seem to believe me, and I think that's it."

I paused for a moment, "Ali, I am going to ask you if it is okay with you if I do something."

"You are going to look into head and see if you can learn something."

The lady does her homework, "Yes."

"Go ahead. Anything to make this stop," Ali said lying down on the couch.

To get the idea of what it is like going though a person's mind imagine a book, let's say 'Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court' and you are looking for the section where Merlin's tower blows up. You don't know exactly where it is but you know the progression of the story and will skim, without reading every page, until you get to it, the same way with a human mind. Oh sure, if I control a person's mind they will rearrange their thinking to accept it, but if I'm looking it takes longer, by about ten seconds.

Ali's mind was easy all I had to do was look for a blank spot in the conscious mind and hit it. There were hundreds of them. It seems who ever was doing this to her did it often, but left no evidence, except the pictures. I started freeing them up. It would make it easier just to free them up and let Ali remember what happened and then she would keep her privacy and only tell me what was needed.

"Oh God, oh dear God," Ali was crying and curled up in a fetal position, "how did this happen?"

"Who, who did this to you?" I asked holding onto her shoulders and pushing her to sit up.

"Oh God I don't know, make me remember," she grabbed onto my shirt, "why did you make me remember all that, but not who."

I was confused. I went into her mind, which by the way was in chaos, and checked the areas that I just freed up. I saw the acts that she had done, and the feelings, and the smells, but the images that should show where there was a person were filled with a humanoid black hole. He eliminated himself totally from her subconscious; this was not normal hypnosis. The voice was distorted, but the most promising thing was, who ever it was had a dick, a real one.

Ali was still crying when I got out of her mind. I took over her mind and commanded her to calm down, and that I was going to get to the bottom of this. Her sobbing seemed to slacken and she combed her hair away from her face with her fingers. "I don't know whether to slap you or thank you," Ali said doing a hysterical laugh.

"How about this," I said still holding on to her, "you tell me what male photographer goes with you just about where ever you go?"

The outside of the apartment seemed like all the others in the area a normal wood exterior and an air-conditioner humming in the window. The open garage door was a clue that he was at home. I talked Ali into going alone with me hiding to pounce, no really I talked her into it. I didn't even use my mind control powers. I told her not to look behind her, but she did anyway to see if I was still there. I was but she wouldn't see me no matter how hard she tried. The door opened.

There was a short bald man with thick glasses and a potbelly. His simple flannel shirt and blue jeans seemed wrinkled and old; his fly wasn't zipped up. I was too far away to hear what was said, but I knew what was going to happen. He lifted his right hand and opened the ring on his middle finger. From inside a small container shown a yellow stone. Ali's mind went blank, and her body slack. When the man covered up the stone again I released Ali's mind, but she kept up the act. The man closed the front door, but didn't lock it, lucky me.

In a moment a male scream came from inside, that was my cue. Ali just hit him with the pepper spray. I ran in and using duct tape that I had on me tied him up. His pants were around his ankles, and his dick was out and hard ready for a woman. I ripped off his ring and pocketed it.

"Fred you are such a bastard," Ali said from the door way to the bedroom. She let out a nude wet and soapy Shania Twain, still holding a sponge. Shania had a blank look on her smiling face. "Fix her," said Ali.

It seems that Fred was one Frederick Trainer who was employed by the Frito-Lays Company as a photographer and when Ali was the Doritos Girl he became fascinated with her. He obtained a magic ring from some pawnbroker in return that Fred would use his connections to get women for them both. They would have wild sex with every one of them. The ones that Fred would have sex with he would take pictures, and develop them. Developing two sets, sending one, but keeping the negatives and the other set. As for Ali only getting one photo Fred confessed, with help from me, he was going to try and sell them to Ali, and make some money off of her, and have her know it.

The police arrested Fred and the pawnbroker that night. We had luck in that Fred wrote down all the women that he took over. It took a whole week but we got everyone of them to remember what had happened to them, and whom it was that did it to them. As you can guess most of them realized something happened, but didn't know what, and when they found out all hell broke loose. In total there were fifty-eight women ranging from super-models to Hollywood stars, three were pregnant.

"And you think that you should be paid for a full week's worth for only a day of real work," said a man in a very expensive suit said across an oak desk, he was Ali's accountant. In front of the desk stood Robert with a very tired look on his face. "So I have to ask Mr. Angst how did you know that Mr. Trainer was the culprit, and what became of the ring?"

Robert licked dry lips, "Photographs, such as the ones Mr. Trainer took, would never be developed by your local drug store plus the paper was professional. Add to that the degree that Miss Landry was used. Then the timing that this all started and we needed a professional photographer that didn't know Miss Landry when she was Miss USA but did two years later. Someone close to her, she knew that would follow her from city to city and not be noticed. Only one person fit the bill and that was Frederick Trainer. As for the ring, I have it, and will give it to Miss Landry here once I get paid."

"Just pay the man," said Ali sitting on the couch in a summer dress. "Besides I hired him and intended to pay him, you just hold my money and invest it wisely. I decide how to spend the money."

The accountant pulled out a book of checks and wrote one out tearing it off and handing it to Robert, "You don't deserve it you know."

"That depends on how you look at it," Robert said placing the check in his wallet. He pulled out the ring and handed it to Ali who promptly placed it in her small purse.

Ali stood up in a very sexual manner and took Robert's arm leading him out of the office, "It's sad that you are leaving this evening."

Robert looked at the beauty, "Am I rubbing off on you?"

"Well let's say that when I'm in New York next time I might not need a motel," Ali said snuggling closer.

"Any time my sweet, any time."

THE END

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