The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The afternoon sun was warm and soothing on Ruby’s bare back as she lay on her apartment balcony, sipping a cooling drink. “Just a little lower please,” she instructed Lana, “a little more, ah! right there.” Ruby was lying on a padded deck chair, splendidly naked but for her tall red boots, and Lana was standing beside her, massaging her back lovingly. Lana sported the short blue maid’s uniform she wore all the time now when she wasn’t at work. Her over-the-knee stockings were sheer white, but her girlish platform slides had neon-bright colored stripes. The gentle breeze kept lifting the skirt, tickling Lana’s bare behind.

“Would you like some more lotion?” Lana asked, pausing to pull down her skirt. A futile effort.

“No, that’s fine for now. Mmmmmm, honey you’re getting good at this. That course really paid off. Say, are there any messages for me?”

Lana switched to rubbing Ruby’s shoulders. “A couple. Let’s see now.

Mr. Page called again. He wants to know when you’ll let his wife make love to him.”

Ruby yawned. “Maybe next week. He still hasn’t got those new sales projections done.”

“And the mayor called, twice. He wants to take you out again.”

Ruby sipped her drink. “Such a nice man,” she said dreamily. “I think the dealership may get an easement on our muni taxes.” She settled her cheek more comfortably into the deep pillow.

There was silence for a little while. Ruby began idly swinging one foot in the air. “I guess I shouldn’t complain,” she said at last. “These boots really are wonderful. You know, I think they’ve completely changed me, somehow. But it would still be nice to take them off, at least occasionally.”

“Maybe you don’t need to take them off. They look marvellous, and you said yourself they don’t hurt your feet.”

“Yes, but, what if I want to go to the beach? I can’t wear boots there.”

“Honey you never go to the beach, remember? It’s boring and you can’t swim.”

“OK, but come on, that was just an example. What if, oh I don’t know, what if I decided to go hiking or take up tennis. There’s lots of times when boots just won’t do.”

“Hey, stop this, baby, you’ll make yourself all tense again. Look, Ruby you know there is like zero chance of you ever taking up things like hiking. Face it, you’re a city girl.” She began working on Ruby’s thighs. “Besides, you still like your boots, don’t you?”

“Mmmmm, I love them.”

“And they’re still comfortable, aren’t they?”

“Exquisitely.”

“Well then, there you go. Maybe these boots really are magic or something. Oh, that reminds me.” She wiped her hands on a cloth and shuffled back into the apartment, accidentally flashing her bare bottom as she went.

She returned a few moments later with a newspaper in one hand and a glass in the other. “There was something in the paper today that I thought might interest you. Oh, here, I brought you a fresh drink.”

She flipped through the paper until she found what she was looking for. She began reading out loud. The article was entitled “Whatever Happened to Scarlett Doulini?”

“Today marks the third anniversary of the disappearance of Scarlett Doulini, one of our town’s most successful and flamboyant citizens. The popular widow of the late stage magician Dominic “The Great” Doulini, Scarlett Doulini was for years a goliath in the city business community, controlling enterprises ranging from hotels and restaurants to movie theatres and clothing stores. The extent of her personal wealth was a closely guarded secret, but most observers estimate she was one of the richest women in the city, if not the whole tri-state area.”

“At the height of her popularity and success, Scarlett Doulini suddenly announced that she was withdrawing from the limelight to ‘live a private life.’ She transferred all her business holdings to a blind trust and disappeared, saying only that she ‘might open a little shop somewhere.’ She has not been seen in public since.”

“Before her disappearance, Scarlett Doulini was as well known for her lifestyle and the company she kept as for her financial success. A strikingly beautiful woman, she apparently had many lovers, including, rumors have it, CEO’s of five major corporations, two former city mayors and at least one prominent judge. Mrs. Doulini was a fashion icon, always showing the latest and best fashions, and wearing them well. Yet she earned the nickname “boots” for the flashy red boots she so often wore to—”

Ruby sat up and tore the newspaper from Lana’s hands. “I would have given it to you,” the girl demurred.

Ruby scanned the article quickly. There were several pictures. “Lana, that’s it!” she almost shouted. “Scarlett Doulini. I know where she is! These were her boots! She can tell me how to get them off!”

“Um, Ruby, are you sure...”

“Lana, don’t just stand there, find my car keys. I have to get dressed.”

An hour later, Ruby was strolling along Sullivan Street, turning heads in a tight, white sweater and skimpy red shorts, feeling happier than she had ever been. Remarkable how her life could change so much in—was it only four months? Here she was, at 22 the senior partner and top salesperson in the biggest, most successful auto dealership in the city. Business was booming, and there were easy prospects for expanding into other arenas. The next step might be retail clothing: Lana’s manager, the franchise owner as it turned out, would certainly be willing to consider concessions in return for continued access to Lana’s charms. Ruby was certain she could sweet-talk the major into a nice tax break.

Ruby looked down at her glistening red boots with the towering platform heels. The boots she couldn’t take off. The boots that made her look great. The boots that made her feel zestful, confident, sexy... and horny.

That was the best part. She couldn’t seem to get enough sex now. A few months ago she might have tentatively moved toward bed with a promising man after several dates. Now it seemed she was fucking everybody in sight. Men worshipped her; women couldn’t resist her. She winked at a man driving by on the street and he nearly had an accident. Ruby laughed with unabashed delight. At last she came to the second-hand shop where it all began. Where she would finally get to say “Thank you!” to Mrs. Scarlett Doulini.

She looked in the window. The shop was empty. The racks of clothing were gone and the interior was dark and deserted. A “For Lease” sign hung crookedly on the door.

Ruby tried the doorknob. It was unlocked. She stepped inside. Her bootheels clicked on bare concrete. A few coat hangers littered the floor. Empty boxes were stacked in one corner.

Ruby looked around the empty shop, her heart heavy. “You disappeared again,” she said quietly. “All I wanted to do was say thank you.” Her gaze fell on a scrap of paper lying on the floor. She bent over and picked it up, held it up in the light from the window. It looked like a business card. But all it said, in big, red, flowing letters was:

“YOU’RE WELCOME.”

Ruby’s smile returned. Mrs. Doulini, a magician’s wife. But then another thought occurred to her. Without Scarlett’s help, how would she ever get the boots off? She turned the card over. On the other side, in the same cursive script, it said:

“WHEN YOU GIVE THEM TO SOMEONE ELSE.”

Ruby began to laugh. She laughed loud and long and carefree. She was still laughing when she tossed the card away and walked out the door, her tall red boots gleaming in the summer sunshine.