The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It was very late the next morning when Carlotta slid one dainty foot out from underneath the rumpled sheets of her bed. Her leg was still encased in the red mesh stocking she had tried on before going to bed the night before. She couldn’t quite remember if she had consciously gone to bed, or merely collapsed in happy exhaustion after a long evening of sex and booze and shopping.

Eventually, she decided she had to get up, even if it was Saturday. Normally, Carlotta worked nearly as hard on the weekends as she did during the week. This week was far from normal. Carlotta felt like her mind had slipped its tethers to reality, and was now floating away on fanciful breezes. Christmas was just days away and she still hadn’t found—something.

She threw back the covers and got to her feet. Along with the stockings she was wearing a red garter belt and a blue “baby doll” nightie. Carlotta liked the feel of silk against her skin. It was a pity there was no one around to see her in it. She stepped into a pair of high-heeled slides instead of her old slippers and shuffled over to the en-suite washroom for a shower.

Later, as she sipped her coffee in the kitchen, the shapely lawyer reflected more soberly. There was a serious problem here. She was acting more and more out of character. Sex was constantly on her mind. Worse, it was getting hard to tell when she was normal and when she was possessed by the goddess of party girls. Her closets looked like a wardrobe for an adult film. Yesterday she had had wild, sensational sex with a woman. She sipped her coffee, confused.

What about her theory that Biggerman was to blame? He couldn’t have rigged the computer, because yesterday she hadn’t used it. Instead, she had lazed on the comfy sofa all afternoon, drinking and dozing and playing with herself. She blushed at the memory, then giggled. It must be something else.

She squirmed in her seat. It was so hard to concentrate. Despite the romp she had put it through yesterday, her pussy was tingling with excitement. It begged to be touched. It wanted something to slide into it—and not just her fingers, that had pleased it so recently in the shower, but something long and warm and firm, preferably attached to a man.

What she needed was a good screwing. She needed to be spread, to be filled, to be pumped with hot man-meat. Her previous lovers, long since eclipsed by her career, seemed so inadequate now. She needed a bigger man.

She shook her head, trying to shake off the spreading tendrils of lust. Her silver earrings flashed. Why was she all dressed up on the weekend? Because it was Christmas, she reminded herself. Naturally she wanted to wear her festive Christmas outfits. Right? She tittered again. She was having trouble thinking straight. She was constantly losing

Black

She loved these boots. They were shiny and tight and black as jet, with tall, slender heels in the back that shaped her legs. She must have bought them yesterday. She and Trina had celebrated their consummation with a whirlwind fling through Biggerman’s Department Store that was half shopping trip and half public spectacle. Carlotta finally discovered her credit limit when she had to visit the service desk to have it raised.

Carlotta finished her coffee, leaving lipstick marks on the cup. She looked at her watch. It was nearly noon. She needed to use this weekend to get caught up. She was falling behind on her caseload. Never mind that she had barely started on her most recent case. Yet somehow she had left both her laptop computer and her briefcase locked up in a back room at Biggerman’s. She had been in no condition to remember such details yesterday.

She was remembering now though. It worried her. Her laptop had all sorts of confidential files on it—including all her notes concerning the Biggerman case. She had left it in the offices of the very man she was suing! This was serious! A breach of confidentiality like that could

Red

This little outfit was the dandiest thing for the holidays. It was a sort of one-piece lounger, a top and short-shorts combined into one. The material was some space-age fabric, soft and sleek at the same time. It hugged her curves as faithfully as paint, while putting the full length of her well-shaped legs on display. Maybe it was a bit risque to wear anywhere but home

Red

It felt so liberating to slip into something clingy without underwear. She loved the way the thin fabric outlined the shape of her boobs.

Carlotta spent a few minutes admiring herself before returning to the problem at hand. With a body like hers, surely she could attract a big-hosed fireman to put out her bush fire. Wait, that wasn’t the problem. There was something very serious going on with this Biggerman case. She was no longer certain how he was doing it, but Carlotta remained convinced that Biggerman—that arrogant, handsome, sexy man—was messing with her head.

Thinking about Biggerman made her feel warm. She had to get into the office and get her computer back—quickly, before someone discovered it and compromised her whole case. The problem was how to get into the office on the weekend. She crossed her knees, bouncing one booted foot up and down pensively. If only she knew some way to

Silver

The dark-haired beauty admired her long legs for a moment. Her nylons were semi-opaque, with black stripes stitched up the legs. Tiny silver specks sparkled with every movement. Carlotta ran a hand across one thigh. “Fuck but I am one hot looker,” she whispered.

She had an idea! She had overheard one of the sales clerks talking about putting receipts in the safe. The safe was upstairs. So, at least some sales staff must have access to the upstairs offices.

Here was a way out of her predicament. She would visit Biggerman’s Department Store one more time. She would ask one of the clerks to accompany her upstairs. She could retrieve her laptop, then never go back again. It would all be proper. She just needed to visit the store one more time.

Carlotta got to her feet and paced about. The fog in her brain had not diminished. Was this the rational thing to do, or was she just finding excuses to return to the store? There would be men at the store. Her nipples tingled. Dammit, why was it so hard to get her mind off sex in the morning was marvellous, her lover making her late by flinging her onto the bed, rumpling her work clothes, spreading her legs against her token protests so he could plunge into her receptive cleft with his long, stiff shaft...

She closed her eyes for a moment, forcing the images of male tumescence into the background. She was an experienced lawyer with intelligence and common sense. She graduated fifth in her class. No matter that she was horny enough to hump a flagpole, she wouldn’t let herself be distracted by

White

The fir trim on her playsuit was the perfect complement for a Christmas outfit. She wandered back toward the bedroom to change. As much as she loved this get-up, it was hardly something she could wear

Red

Oh! Those long satin gloves would set this off perfectly. She pulled them on, carefully working the fabric smooth over her fingers. Then she stepped into the en-suite to change her lipstick to a closer match. That done, and her hair combed perfectly, and a few more minutes admiring herself in the mirror, and she headed off for the store.

Now remember, Carlotta reminded herself, this is strictly business. Get in, get your things, get out. No shopping. No looking at computers. She was standing on the sidewalk outside Biggerman’s. Last-minute shoppers came and went around her. She was as nervous as a schoolgirl before a big date. Steeling herself with a deep breath, she pushed the revolving door and entered the store.

The store was crowded. Christmas shoppers filled every aisle and gathered around every clothing rack. A cacophony of voices filled Carlotta’s ears. The atmosphere in the store was festive, as if everyone had spontaneously decided to have a party. Above the hum of the crowd the leggy lawyer could barely hear the calming music drifting down from the ceiling.

Santa’s lounge was already busy. Carlotta admired a waitress as she bent low to offer a tray of snacks to a table of patrons. The girl succeeded in spellbinding both the men at that table and the table behind her. Isn’t that a coincidence, Carlotta reflected, her outfit is just like mine. Lucky girl, to have all those men wanting her.

It was very warm in the store. Carlotta shrugged off her overcoat and tossed it over one arm. Instantly a clerk appeared to take it away. Carlotta demurred—she would only be here a few minutes—but the girl’s cap was

Red

God, everybody is looking at me, Carlotta thought proudly, as she ambled through the crowd. I’m a fucking man-magnet. If I make the right moves, maybe I can line up a. . . No! Stop that. She was here to pick up her things, not pick up a man. She concentrated on finding a sales clerk.

That turned out to be a difficult task. The throngs of shoppers were keeping the sales staff occupied. Carlotta found one cute thing practically in the arms of a rich-looking young man. He was grinning foolishly as he inspected no less than five vinyl miniskirts, each in a different bright colour, spread out before him.

“Of course we sell gift certificates,” the pretty girl chirped. “Any denomination you want.” She ran a finger along the hem of one foot-long skirt. “Why don’t you get some for all the girls in your office? That will save you having to make all those decisions.” The man was already reaching for his wallet.

Carlotta found herself admiring one of the tiny, shiny skirts. Would they still have that in her size? When she collected her thoughts, the clerk had already disappeared into the crowd, leading her dazzled customer to the service desk.

She was increasingly nervous. The colours everywhere were overwhelming. She had to get out of here soon. She looked around to find

Silver

A few moments later she was in the lingerie department, admiring body shapers, wondering which one would best display her tits. There was a man looking her over. She sidled toward him, smiling.

No! She pulled up short. She wasn’t here for that. She had to retrieve. . . something. . . oh, yes, her laptop computer. She was becoming befuddled. Find a sales clerk. Quickly.

She saw the distinctive red cap that all the salesgirls wore, and headed toward it. Now if she could make it to the girl before

White

Oh look at those darling pants. They were skin-tight around the hips, so low-slung they were almost falling off the mannequin. The soft fabric was paper thin. It was clearly planned to tease with the outline of the wearer’s bottom. Or, I could wear them with dark underwear, Carlotta thought gleefully, and really put on a show. Oh look, there’s even a top that goes with it. That’s so—

She dropped the top as if it had scorched her. What was she doing! She looked around. The sales clerk was nowhere in sight. Shoppers teemed around her. Voices and laughter filled the air, mixing with the gentle music from above. At least three men of different ages were staring at her. Desire was clearly written on their faces.

She looked down at herself, in her tight red one-piece, sparkling, striped nylons and high-heeled boots. She brushed back her hair with one red-gloved hand. Her own appearance was turning her on. She wanted to approach all those men, get their phone numbers, arrange a hot date, or better yet, drag them into a changing room and go down on them right there. She was almost hyperventilating.

She had to get out. She had to leave before she lost all control. Never mind trying to retrieve the—whatever it was. Resolutely, she turned and headed for the door. She began to push her way through the crowd, crying apologies at the people she shoved aside. She had to get away before

Black

Silver

She stopped short, drawing in her breath. Oh, sweet. The perfect pair of boots. The ones Carlotta now realized she had been unconsciously searching for all this time. The half-dozen pairs she had bought in the last week were approximations, sexy stand-ins for these perfect boots. These were the real thing. Carlotta’s panicked resolution to leave melted into a blank, distant smile. She changed direction and drifted into the shoe department.

There was a slow deliberateness to Carlotta’s stride as she stepped off the elevator at Biggerman’s upstairs offices late Monday morning. Partly, that was because the towering heels and high platforms on her new boots strongly discouraged a hurried gait. Partly it was because Carlotta was still gliding through a velvet fog of sexual arousal.

Most of the weekend was a blur. She remembered picking up her new, perfect boots, and then wandering off to buy some new outfits to go with them. She was wearing one of those outfits now.

The tight velour shorts were crimson, with a fringe of white fur around each leg and a wide, black belt around her hips. The matching bra top had long sleeves fringed with more fur. A fancy bow knot in the middle of her chest strained to hold the top together. Carlotta’s new boots were tall, tight and black. Bright silver trim outlined the three-inch platforms and endless stacked heels. Shiny hose glistened on her legs.

Carlotta had tried to get some work done on Sunday. She wasn’t very successful. Her overwrought mind kept returning to visions of sex. Eventually she decided that another go round with her fingers was called for. That session gradually extended into a long, lazy, lustful afternoon trying on sexy clothes and plumbing herself with a pair of vibrators she didn’t remember buying. Somewhere in there she had ordered pizza. She still wasn’t certain whether she had really given a hand job to the gawking delivery boy, or just dreamt about it.

Now it was Monday, the day before Christmas. As she made her careful way down the corridor, Carlotta’s head was in the clouds. Thoughts of sex and men and sexy clothes and men and her beautiful, fuckable body and men and sex and more sex were dancing around in her head like pretty, twittering birds. She wanted to make love to everybody. She hadn’t dared to show up at the law office, for fear she would jump one of her co-workers. She was maintaining her mental balance by clinging to one resolution: she must get her laptop and briefcase back.

Carlotta’s comely curves, advertised by her provocative outfit, attracted men like six-year-olds to a toy store. It wasn’t helping her resolve any. From the moment she stepped out onto the street that morning, the face of every man she passed lit up like Scrooge discovering the true meaning of Christmas.

By the time she tottered into the crowded department store, the lithesome lawyer was already biting her lip. She was exquisitely aware of all those men staring at her. Wanting her. They all had cocks too: long, hard, pussy-pleasing shafts she could vividly imagine plunging deep inside her. Once, a young man began asking her about gifts for his girlfriend, evidently mistaking her for a salesclerk. For some reason that felt good too. She directed him toward some racy lingerie before continuing on her way to the elevator.

There wasn’t much work getting done in the office. Everyone was celebrating Christmas eve. Although it was barely noon, many employees were walking around with drinks or treats in their hands. Still reeling from the excitement in the store, Carlotta made an effort to ignore the revelry going on around her.

A pretty secretary appeared. She had the regulation red cap on her head. “Hey there,” she cried, grinning. “Merry Christmas! You’re the lawyer, right?”

“Who, me?” Carlotta giggled. “Oh, wait, yes, uh, I am. I came to—”

“How about a drink?”

A drink was exactly what she needed. Carlotta snatched the glass of champagne from the girl’s hand and downed it in a few gulps. “Thanks,” she said, gasping, as she handed back the empty glass. “I needed that.”

“There’s lots more,” the girl said cheerfully, as Carlotta shuffled away.

She arrived at Biggerman’s office. Trina was there. She was wearing a pink minidress that was little more than an extended sweater. She was sitting at her desk, legs crossed casually, sharing a drink with a young co-worker. He was leaning on her desk lamp and looking down her cleavage.

“Trina, I, I need you—need you to help me,” Carlotta said. The young man looked up as she spoke. Carlotta felt the strong drink and the man’s happy stare hit her at once. She put one hand on the wall to steady herself. She felt giddy.

“Well, hey there, Carlotta,” Trina said. “So glad you could make it.” She got to her feet gracefully. She wore white platform sandals with tall wedge heels. “And just look at you. Girl you are wicked!”

Trina held Carlotta by the arms. She looked her up and down with approval. The man nearby had finally torn his eyes away from her legs and ass, only to have them lock onto her cleavage. Carlotta’s top presented her orbulent breasts like precious Faberge eggs on a red velour cushion.

“Tim, stop staring,” Trina said playfully. “Carlotta already knows she’s beautiful.”

Carlotta’s head was spinning. She was all too aware of what she and Trina had done a few days earlier. The man Tim looking her over with obvious sexual interest was heating her up further. She tried not to look at his crotch. She failed.

“Please,” she whimpered, “I’m here for my... my brieftop... and my lap dance... I mean, my laptop. My briefs case... and comp—”

“Oh, look,” Trina interrupted, pointing toward the ceiling, “Mistletoe!”

Quite suddenly she kissed her. The kiss was hot and urgent, on the lips. Trina was still holding her arms. Carlotta struggled vainly. She made little sounds in her throat. Trina used her tongue. She pressed her chest against Carlotta’s. Tim was still watching. Carlotta felt her whole body tremble.

Eventually the sex-bomb secretary let her go. Carlotta rocked back on her high heels. “You know what you need?” Trina cooed. She reached up with both hands, pulled the floppy red cap off her blonde curls and set it down on Carlotta’s head.

She adjusted the cap a little. Carlotta stood still, too stunned to react. “There now, you’re perfect,” Trina pronounced. She turned the other woman around. “Henry wants to see you,” she told her. “Don’t worry about your things, I’ll go get them for you.” She knocked on the door, then opened it and stuck her head in. “Carlotta is here, Henry.”

The door closed. Carlotta found herself standing in Biggerman’s corner office. A part of her mind registered absently that this was the only place in the building where Christmas music was not playing.

Biggerman had his feet up on the desk and a tall glass of champagne in one hand. Instantly Carlotta was struck by the animal handsomeness of the man. Virility and masculine self-assurance seemed to radiate out from him. With his defiantly uncut hair he reminded her of a long-maned lion overlooking his harem of well-serviced females. She felt herself moistening the thong beneath her short-shorts.

“Ms. Exquisito, how lovely to see you again,” Biggerman said. “And merry Christmas to you. Care for some champagne?” He looked her up and down, from the outrageous boots on her feet to the silly red cap on her head, and all the delicious, half-bare curves in between.

Carlotta shook her head, resisting the pulse of excitement his attention provided. Her breasts heaved beneath her halter-top. “You, you can’t do this to me”, she stammered. “I’m like, a barrister, not one of your. . . I won’t let you make me . . . I graduated fifth in my class!”

Biggerman swung his feet to the floor. “Yes, I know, very impressive. I’ve looked at your profile. I was hoping that we could discuss my offer of a position here. Have you had a chance to think about it? I could use a smart, dedicated lawyer on staff.”

“Who, me?” Carlotta said dully. “Work... for you? Oh. I, uhm, no, I don’t—” She didn’t feel confident to elaborate. She was rampantly horny. “I, I’m leaving now.” She turned toward the door.

Biggerman seemed surprised. “Well, I’m sorry you feel that way. I was hoping that by now you would be . . . more agreeable. You’re tougher than I thought. You’re going to continue with this lawsuit then?”

Carlotta had one hand on the door. Her fingernails were the same shade as her shorts. “Lawsuit? Yes, the lawsuit. Yes, have to finish. I’m here only to... pick up... something.... my stuff.” It was hard to think.

Biggerman studied her. “Well then,” he said carefully, “all I can do is wish you the best of the season. And may I say—you look wonderful in red and black.”

“Ohhhhhhhh, godddd,” Carlotta swooned as a blast of sexual heat lanced through her. Bells went off in her head. She swayed on her high heels, nearly fell over. Biggerman steadied her gently.

“Easy there, girl. You’re turning as red as your shorts. I’m afraid you’ll black out.”

The dark-haired lawyer could only quiver in delight as another rocket of pleasure exploded in her brain. She moaned out loud and would have fallen had not Biggerman been there to catch her. He lead her to a sofa along one wall of the office.

Carlotta made a last attempt to protest. “No. no, please... I have to... oh god I feel so good... but please let me... mmmmmmmmmmm... so good...”

“You shouldn’t go anywhere for a minute or two. Here, settle down here for a moment.” He slid onto the sofa beside her. “You know, that outfit you’re wearing has all the Christmas colours: red, black, white and silver.”

Carlotta screamed out loud as the orgasm hit her. Her body shook and shivered in ecstasy. Pleasure circuits lit up, overloaded, and short-circuited.

When her eyes opened again, many seconds later, they were still glassy with lust. Carlotta had forgotten about the lawsuit, forgotten why she had come here. The intensity of her climax had driven every other thought out of her brain. She only knew that she was dying for sex, and the man most capable of satisfying her urgent need was sitting right beside her.

She flowed into Biggerman’s arms. She kissed him desperately. “Fuck me, you big handsome brute,” she begged, between kisses. “Fuck me right here, right now. Please! Screw me until my brains run out my ears.” She was tearing at his clothing. She tried to unbutton his shirt and unzip his fly at the same time. It went faster when Biggerman helped.

“Oh yes yes yes, drill me with that,” the lust-mad lawyer cooed when she saw the lump in his boxers. She was all over him then, kneeling on the couch with her face directly over his crotch as Biggerman lay back on the leather sofa. “I want you! I want your cock, your gorgeous big cock, I want it in me and never stop, I want, I want . . .mmmmmmmmmmmmm.” She slid her lips down over his shaft and began to suck hungrily.

Carlotta’s head nodded up and down, up and down, as she earnestly sucked Biggerman’s rod. The man lives up to his name, she thought wildly. The formerly feminist lawyer was an erotic sight, kneeling there on the couch with her ass stretching her shorts and her boobs falling out of her top. Glossy nylons shimmered on long legs. Seven-inch, silver-limned heels capped off her boot-clad feet.

She felt Biggerman stiffen. She pulled her lips away, panting.

“No, please,” she gasped, “not yet. I need you in me. Need you to fuck me.” She was already fighting with the belt on her crimson shorts. They slid down her legs and off, revealing her red T-thong and crotchless nylons. The thong was nothing, a mere target for his wang. Carlotta shuffled forward until she was astride him, then lifted herself up on her knees. She grasped his cock with one hand. “Oh yesssss,” she sighed as she impaled herself on him. “Fuck—me—with—that!”

Biggerman was more than willing to oblige. They bounced and gyrated happily on the big couch. Carlotta groaned and sighed and shouted encouragement to her lover. Biggerman tugged on the bow knot holding her bra-top together. It dissolved in his hands. Her bouncing boobs tumbled free.

“Look at you babe,” Biggerman grunted. “Your titties are all red.”

Carlotta felt her cunt muscles spasm around his cock as the orgasm overtook her. She let out a cry and fell forward, shaking in delight. She saw Biggerman stiffen beneath her and a moment later felt the eruption of his climax inside her. For a moment she lost consciousness.

Some time later Carlotta was flopped on the floor between Biggerman’s legs, languidly kissing and licking that man-sized member that had done so much for her. She was still wearing her black boots and her Christmas cap, but little in between. Her nylons were ripped. She was thinking, in an unhurried way, that if she could get Henry hard again he might be up for a third go. Or was it a fourth? It hardly mattered. Carlotta had come so many times in the past couple of hours she was sure her brain was permanently fried.

Biggerman poured himself a glass of champagne from the bottle chilling by the sofa. “So, my little Christmas trinket,” he said amiably, “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to work for me? I can pay you a fair bit of silver.”

“Mmmmmmmmmmm,” Carlotta sighed as the keyword triggered a shiver of delight up her spine. She worked her tongue around his cock. “Mmmmmm, sounds yummy, baby” she murmured. “I’ll be your little sexpot lawyer. Your legal beagle babe. Make those busted bitches go ‘way.”

She tittered girlishly. Biggerman twitched. Another fuck was definitely a possibility.

“Can you do it, sweetmeat? Oh, oh man you have a great tongue.”

The lustful lawyer looked up at him adoringly. “Course I can, honey.” She kept her fingers busy where her mouth had been. “I graduated fifth ‘n my class.”

Biggerman grinned. He tossed off the last of the champagne. “Well then, consider yourself on the payroll. Now come here so I can give you your Christmas bonus.”

He slid down to join her on the deep-pile carpet. Carlotta spread her booted legs and her new boss slipped into her easily. They were both well-lubricated from the previous bangs. They fell into a steady, unhurried rhythm, the urgency of earlier calmed a little. Carlotta closed her eyes and savoured the fucking. Gentle Christmas tunes played endlessly in her mind. The music danced around the colours in her head: black, red, white, silver: rapture!