The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Amy sipped slowly at her coffee and took a bite from her bagel. The creamy-furred feline looked around the cafe, wondering when her interviewer would arrive. She felt out of place, like a can of soda on a wall of old-vintage wines, and today was not going well for her. Her clothes were falling all to pieces: her bra strap kept slipping down her arm, her shirt kept bunching up uncomfortably over her tail, and she could never quite seem to sit comfortably while making certain her skirt wouldn’t show herself off entirely. Some creep in the line took a look up her skirt and she swiftly uncrossed her legs, pulling down the fabric in between her knees, growling. The creep frowned and looked back to the front desk to continue ordering. “A little too over the top,” she thought. “Next time, longer skirt, a little closer cut to the breasts. Go for seductive, Amy, not slut.”

She set the coffee cup down and bristled, her feline tail held rigid as the creep tried to get close to her again. He was a canine, German Shepherd. Maybe he didn’t quite understand the more subtle details of feline body language, so she showed him her claws in a motion that looked like the slitting of a neck. He finally took the hint and sat elsewhere.

She took out a brush, with the intent of combing down her fur, but the bell above the front door rang. In came a vixen, dressed in what almost appeared to be a latex jacket and skirt, but no, it was a regular jacket but lacquered up to appear otherwise. She was beautiful, with a delicious white chest ruff that contrasted perfectly with her black top. Her red fur had been tended to a fine sheen. She was a little taller than Amy and slightly wider of shoulder and waist, but all the while dazzling to look upon.

The vixen stepped forward and held out her hand to Amy. “A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Renfield, right?”

Amy thought she looked like journalist, complete with pad of paper and bic pen, but her hair was long, in tresses, some of which fell over her shoulders down her back and some of which fell over her shoulders down her front. “Yes, thank you, Ms....”

“Jasmine, the name is Jasmine. Mistress prefers I simply go by that.”

“Mistress... you mean, my possible employer?” Amy gaze was drawn downward as Jasmine searched for a something inside her purse, and she gasped softly when she realized the vixen was not wearing anything, absolutely anything, underneath her skirt. Her eyes were focused back on Jasmine’s face before the latterwas done rooting through her purse. But try as she might, she couldn’t stop her heart from leaping in tempo.

“Now... I already have your basic info from the form you submitted earlier. What I’m here for now is to get to know you better. To see whether or not you would work well with Mistress.”

“I’m sorry, but is there any name other than Mistress by which I can think of her?”

“You will be required to both think of and address her as such, Ms. Renfield,” Jasmine said in a stern tone. “She will also likely address you as she sees fit. My own name is not Jasmine, that is a name she has given me.”

Amy smiled. “To think of her as such,” she thought, feeling her mouth water slightly. “She gave you your name? What’s your real name, then?”

The vulpine’s face twitched and her eyes darted upwards, the edges of a frown appearing on her face before she brushed off the question. “It doesn’t matter. I am Jasmine now, everyone knows me as such and all legal documents refer to me as Jasmine as well.”

Amy felt her legs attempting to cross to relieve the feelings between her thighs, and she tried to smile sweetly. “I understand,” she said, “but I can’t exactly put down ‘Mistress’ on my resume. You wouldn’t believe the looks you can get turning in things like that...” She laughed.

Jasmine smiled (as near as Amy could tell, she wasn’t feigning her sweetness). “You’ve put something like that on your resume before?”

Amy sighed and let her legs cross, tired of resisting the temptation, though she felt the eyes of the lascivious canine across the way look up her skirt. “Once did some fairly tame BDSM photo shoots, basic nudes, handcuffs, looking cute in a gag, you know. I sent in pictures of myself to a modelling agency, and included—by accident—one of the BDSM ones. I wasn’t exactly rejected, but got some very strange looks when I came in to do the shoot.”

Across the table, Jasmine tried to scoot further in to hide her thighs beneath the tabletop. She was squeezing her legs together tightly, her sex dampening at thoughts of what her Mistress might allow her to do... to take this new recruit... “I see.” Her mind buzzed in circles, trying to find an innocent way of asking for the pictures she mentioned.

“It’s a bit different I know, but from the sound of your ad, Mistress could use someone a little more acquainted with such things.” Amy paused and pulled out the ad, which she had snipped from a slightly questionable magazine, having found that to be a nicer presentation than a print-off of the internet ad. “Yes, ‘submissive personality highly recommended’, it says. Though I think placement counts double, and I did find it posted on a BDSM forum.”

Jasmine giggled, her voice bubbly and light. “Yes, Mistress is well versed in such things, though the interest she takes in certain segments varies widely. Oh, and as to her name, it is Celest. That you can put on your resume. She will gladly act as a good reference provided good work is done. Now as to the work itself. You don’t mind serving?”

Amy put on her sweetest possible look. “No, I don’t mind.” “Not for as long as it will take,” she thought and had to pull in close to the table as well.

“Tell me about what you imagine could be the best and worst parts of this job.”

“Worst is easy, let’s start there. I do expect to be compensated for my services, not only monetarily but also emotionally. I won’t serve anyone who makes me feel like I do a horrible job.”

Jasmine nodded, jotting down notes, her legs uncrossing as she focused more on her work and less on her desires.

“As to best... well, I’ve always wanted a chance to be near someone as powerful and beautiful as I’m told Mistress Celest is. To my mind, it’s a bit like working with a famous sports star or politician, except even better.”

“Yes...” Jasmine said absentmindedly, her free paw traveling down to massage her thighs beneath the table. “She is quite powerful... quite beautiful...” She had to shake her head a few times in order to clear it of thoughts full of the dark tantalizing shadow that was her Mistress. “Enjoys beauty -> former model (connection?)” she wrote.

Jasmine looked up from her paper. “So, Ms. Renfield, do you have any problems working in uniform?”

Amy simply laughed and brought her leg up to stroke the inside of Jasmine’s leg beneath the desk. “I’m a model, I’m used to uniforms.”

Jasmine blushed deeply and pulled her legs back and Amy did the same, trying to pass it off as a simple mistake made while adjusting her feet. But she could see Jasmine trying to pat down her dress and not get too flushed. The vixen was aroused, she could scent it. “Definately bi or les,” she thought. “Perfect.”

Jasmine coughed briefly trying to return both of their focuses to the matter at hand. “What about... a french maid outfit?”

“Sure, no problem.”

“Done in latex?”

Amy’s tail perked, and for once she did not need to fake her interest. “A girl after my own heart Ms. Celest is.”

Jasmine smiled and jotted down some notes again. “Well, that would probably be the most extreme of anything you would be expected to do. The position certainly doesn’t require you to show up in full BDSM gear by any means. Mistress doesn’t particular care for that anyways.” For the first time since meeting with her, Amy noticed that the vixen wore a collar. It was black, inlaid with silver celtic knots. She couldn’t tell what was on the back side, but she kept catching glimpses of a different colored metal and wondered if the vulpine hid a d-ring in her hair. There was a tag in front but its surface was misted and cloudy with seemingly nothing on it.

Amy also smiled, but for a different reason. The canine creep had been trying to get close to them again, but when Jasmine mentioned BDSM and Mistress, he tucked tail between his legs and ran.

Amy leaned in. “Maybe you could tell me something about you, Jasmine?”

“Oh?” Jasmine looked up from her pad.

“Tell me,” Amy let her foot move closer and closer to Jasmine’s leg again. “What’s it like to work for her.”

Jasmine shuddered as the footpaw touched her, stiffening only a little. “Very nice.”

“That’s not too descriptive, just let me know exactly what you think.” Her paw traveled up slightly more, and she attempted a second distraction method by appearing to look at the pad where Jasmine had been writing.

“I... I...” Jasmine shifted her attention back and forth between the paw and the pad, one hand coming up to rest limply in her cleavage. “It’s wonderful. Feels like I am where I truly belong. Being controlled, ordered.”

“Jasmine! Legs apart!” Amy commanded in a soft but firm voice the moment Jasmine had said ordered. The fox obeyed the confident voice without hesitation. Amy slipped her foot up in between the vixen’s legs and let her toe rest just at the vixen’s entrance. “Relax, Jasmine.”

“What about the paper?” Amy said, constantly diverting Jasmine’s attention around. “Or no, tell me more about Celest?” She pushed her toe further. “Relax, darling. These are very nice comments. Are you certain Celest will believe them?”

Jasmine couldn’t focus. Every time she tried the focus would shift. She was just starting to get a grip around the toe pressed against her sex when Amy gestured to the paper. She had just focused on the paper when she was asked about Mistress. She was just about to say more about Celest when she felt a twinge of the toe and was told to relax.

Amy purred. So suggestible. She shuddered to think of how many times the vixen had been tranced, that she could so easily put under in the middle of a cafe. “Good Jasmine.”

Jasmine shuddered and moaned softly.

Amy smiled. “You have a trance trigger, Jasmine?”

“Yes”

“What is it?”

“Deep, deep vixen.”

“Deep, deep vixen.”

Jasmine’s head bowed down slightly.

“No, keep the appearance of not being in trance.”

Jasmine’s head popped back up, and she smiled that same sweet smile. “I obey.”

“Yes, Jasmine, you obey me.”

“I obey you, Amy Renfield.” Jasmine’s voice was light, flat, monotone.

Amy stood up, extracting her foot from between Jasmine’s thighs. This was no place to be in close intimate contact for long. “We need someplace more private to talk. Do you know of someplace?”

“My car?”

“Good girl, show me the way.”

Jasmine stood up and wobbled slightly but became steadier as she walked more. She lead Amy out the door and to the parking garage opposite the cafe. Five floors up she lead Amy to her car.

“Good girl, open the door take a seat in the back and make room for me.”

Jasmine shuddered and did as she was ordered, stepping inside and allowing Amy into the backseat of the car with her. Once inside, Amy commanded her to strip. Jasmine pulled off the jacket and the skirt and Amy was wowed as she saw the vixen had absolutely nothing on underneath. She already knew she didn’t wear panties, but no bra either... that was intriguing. The vixen was a delight to behold. She had breasts that were large enough to attract the eye without being so large as to appear unwieldly. Her pubic fur had been shaved close to her sex so as to reveal to moist lips and a fully aroused clitoris to all who wished to view. The effect was not slutty, but instead delicately arousing for the viewer. Even knowing that the vixen was completely in her paws, mind and all, she still felt like she were viewing a nude pose and that she should have an easel nearby to sketch upon.

“So beautiful,” Amy said wistfully. “Do you have a pleasure trigger?”

“Yes... being called a good girl by Mistress.”

“Just by her?”

“Yes.”

“No, Jasmine, silly girl. I can use it too. Can’t I?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl.”

Jasmine squirmed.

“Good girl.”

Jasmine squirmed more until Amy told her to be as still as possible, though with every other breath she spoke the pleasure trigger again. Then she commanded the vixen to spread her legs. The sweet tantalizing smell of vulpine arousal filled the car. Amy wanted to cross her legs again before she remembered that she was alone with the vixen here, in a locked car.

Amy herself was having trouble containing her own arousal. She wanted so badly to tell the other female to get down and lick her sex until she came at least five times, but told herself to pay attention to the matter at hand. “Now whenever I touch you, you will hear my voice saying ‘Good girl’. The closer I touch to your sex, the more intently you will hear me say it. The longer I touch you the more often you will hear me say it.”

Amy put her finger on Jasmine’s paw and the vixen shuddered again. Amy pulled her paw away.

“Now, Jasmine, who is your owner?”

“Mistress Celest.”

Amy held Jasmine’s paws and this time did not let go. “Are you certain?”

“Completely. Entirely.”

Amy started to work her hands up over Jasmine’s arm, slowly spider-walking up. Jasmine’s light convulsions started to grow more powerful as she got closer to the shoulder. Amy again commanded her to be still but to no effect, since the pleasure was overwhelming the vixen. Then Amy started to spider-walk down to Jasmine’s breasts. Jasmine’s sex was dripping out over the leather car seat.

“Are you certain, Jasmine?”

“Yes...”

“But?”

“Feels so goooooood.”

“Oh, yes it does. That’s a problem?”

Amy drew her finger down slowly towards Jasmine’s sex.

“Noooo...”

“What is it about her?”

“Don’t understand...”

Jasmine was panting, gasping, twisting despite her orders not to move.

“What is it about her that draws you to her...?”

“She controls me. She gives me pleasure. I adore her. I yearn to serve her.”

“Is that what a mistress is for you?”

“Yesssss...”

Amy reached down and pushed her hand right on top of Jasmine’s sex. “Oh really?”

“Oh gods, oh yes, oh please, please more!”

Amy shushed her softly. “I control you.”

“You control me.”

Amy reached a finger into the vixen’s slick sex. “I give you pleasure.”

“You give me pleasure.”

Amy reached a second finger inside. “You adore me.”

The vixen’s whole body was quaking, her eyes unfocused, her words coming out in a slur. “I ‘dorrrr yyyyoooouuu.”

Amy’s thumbpad caressed the vixen’s clitoris. “You yearn to serve me.”

“Issss ssserrve yyooouuu”

“Who grants you pleasure?”

“Yoooou dooooo”

“Yes, not Celest. Only me.”

“Awwwnrry yuuuu.”

“Who is your Mistress, Jasmine?”

Jasmine hesitated.

Amy shoved her fingers deeper inside Jasmine’s sex, touching her g-spot. “Who?”

“YOU!”

“YOU!” She repeated.

“YOU MISTRESS AMY!”

Amy smiles softly and draws her hand away. Jasmine almost seemed glad to see it go, her body finally slowing in its temors. The vixen’s seat was drenched from waist down in her juices and from waist up in sweat. “Now I do so want to talk about Celest,” Amy said. “I want her to be mine too, just like you. You will help me?”

“Of course, Mistress.”

“Tell me about her mansion, what I should expect there?”

“She has many pets all collared to her. If you want to take her, you should take them all as well.”

Amy smiled and caressed Jasmine’s sex again for a moment. “Of course, dear. I fully intended to do so.”

Jasmine nearly screamed in pleasure.

“Who is there with her in the mansion?”

Jasmine rattled off a long list of names which impressed Amy to no end. “She keeps her own adopted mother and sister as pets, and even taurs and deities bound into her service... Almost too good to be true,” she thought and shuddered in pleasure.

“Now, Jasmine, it’s very important that you not be returned to Celest’s service, but it would be very odd for you to suddenly disappear. So you must return to Celests and pretend to be hers.

“You know how to do that. You know all of what your triggers should be, but they no longer actually effect you when she says them. You will only do as much as it would take to appear to be still under her control. But you will not mention that I am your Mistress, nor anything about this trance.

“You will take to her only flowering reviews of our interview. You believe I am perfect for the position. Understood, slave Jasmine?”

Jasmine murred. “Understood Mistress.”

“Good girl, now clean up this mess and return to Jasmine. I need to go eat.”

Jasmine murred and started to wipe clean the car and spray deodorant into the car interior. She heard her Mistress’ last command to awaken from trance and went down on her knees before her Mistress in the car, still completely naked and fur heavily matted from sex and exhaustion.

Amy smiled and caressed her slave’s hair. “Good girl. Get dressed and go, I need to go too.”

She pulled open the door and stepped out of the car, exposing Jasmine to the floor until she slid the door shut.

The canine creep was there, his hand wrapped around a coffee cup and staring in shock at the car, at the completely naked, subservient, obedient, vixen who had just been kneeling there. “Keep staring, freak,” Amy said, “She’s mine.”