The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Joanne was thoroughly annoyed. This was insult added to injury added to having a piano dropped on you from thirty stories up. Her business was gone. Her reputation was destroyed. Even her friends had deserted her. Pamela... Julia... Kirsten... Amy...

Her entire life would have to be rebuilt from the ground up. And to cap it off, this humiliating visit. The last meeting with her lawyer, she had learned that the court ruling insisted on a personal drop off of the settlement check.

By her to Klaw.

Beautiful.

Not only was she forced to bake up the crow pie, she had to serve as her own waitress as well. With Klaw laughing at her throughout. How he managed to subvert Becky, she still didn’t know. Becky had disappeared—as had Pamela and Amy and Kirsten.

Her friends...

She sighed. It was all irrelevant now. There was no one left at Morgan and Company any more. It didn’t exist. All the assets had been sold off in compliance with the settlement. Joanne clutched her briefcase. She just needed to get through this. Then she’d start over—and do it even better this time. The elevator climbed to the thirteenth floor and the doors opened. Klaw’s office. She stepped out, inhaling deeply.

“Mr. Klaw please.” The tall ditzy-looking blonde secretary popped out of her chair, entered the Inner Sanctum and came bopping out a few moments later with an insipid smile on her empty, vacuous face.

“Mr. Klaw will be right with you Miss Morgan.” She pointed to a chair and a table spread with magazines. She nodded, taking a seat. She looked familiar, this secretary. Maybe not. She was so confused these days. Which was why she didn’t bother to correct the use of “Miss.” At this point, the sooner she was out of here, the better. Joanne sat for twenty minutes and was just on the verge of leaving when the secretary called over to her.

“Please follow me, Miss.”

Joanne wanted to shake the stupid bitch for it, but relented and followed. She was probably expected to act this way on the job. No one could be this simpering and pathetically feminine all the time!

She followed the woman into Klaw’s office. Klaw rose. There wasn’t the evil grin she expected to see on his face. Instead he graciously offered her a chair. The simp blonde left the two adversaries face to face.

“Well!” His eagle eyes were piercing in their intensity—the blue-gray washing into an eerie violet. Joanne flipped open her briefcase, reached in and placed an envelope on the desk. She pushed it forward. Nodding silently, he took the envelope and looked at it. He made no move to open it.

“It’s all there,” she growled. “Ten million, Klaw. Go on. Open it.”

He looked at her, a sardonic smile creeping into his expression. “Oh, I’m sure it’s all there.”

Now she was getting irritated. She had liquidated everything she owned, personal and business. She had only a few thousand left for living expenses—the rest was represented in the check he hadn’t bothered to examine. “Whatever. You won, Klaw. I don’t know how, but you managed it. And now I’ll leave and let you gloat in peace.” She rose from the chair, relieved the encounter was over.

“Let’s just say, Miss Mallory couldn’t help herself but to do the right thing. Too bad you didn’t take my offer, Joanne.”

She recalled that fateful meeting some three months earlier. She had thought of it often in the last few weeks, ruing the day their paths had crossed. “Go to Hell Klaw.”

“Oh don’t be that way. Sit down. Please. It isn’t as if you have anywhere to go.”

His tone was oddly inviting and she felt herself melt back into the chair. “Alright,” she acquiesced quietly.

Klaw smiled. “You’re a talented woman, Joanne. I’m sure you’ll get something.” His purplish gray eyes were examining her again, like they had some months before. “Not in this town or this business, but I’m sure there’s something out there for an attractive, talented woman of your age.”

She felt an unreasonable spark of pleasure at this compliment. Maybe he wasn’t all evil after all. Business was business—no need to make it personal if it didn’t have to be.

“In fact,” he continued, “I may have something for you here at Cain.”

She perked up. A job with Cain? It sounded preposterous, but stranger things had happened.

“As you know, we have no female executives here at Cain...” Her back stiffened, bridling at the comment. The bastard! If he was going to suggest she take some office job... “... but I could certainly make an exception—to a point—for such a gifted and pretty woman as yourself.”

Joanne didn’t like the reference to her appearance, but was curious now. “Why, Klaw? Why would you offer me work. Of all people? And why would I take your offer—after what you’ve done to me, my reputation? You are insane!”

Still, notwithstanding her words, the concept of working for Klaw was beginning to take on a morbid fascination for her. She needed to do something. Maybe Klaw really had learned a lesson from the lawsuit.

Klaw’s metallic gray eyes flashed with conciliation and sincerity. “Am I? You’re bright, a natural leader and, I won’t dissemble, would make a wonderful public addition to my firm.”

“You mean a trophy of your victory,” she sneered.

The nod over his folded arms confirmed this statement without apology. “Yes, I won’t deny that. Having the well known Joanne Morgan working for me would make a certain kind of statement about the power we hold here at Cain—a former competitor co-opted. But there’s more—I have a new business venture I’d like you to consider.”

Her head spun. This was right out of left field. “Tell me more,” she replied at last. It seemed like a forced fit—she helping Klaw start a new business? “You’re starting a new business?”

“Yes. You see, in the course of working with our clients, we’ve discovered an unfilled need in the market. We’ve been dabbling in it, but what I need is someone to manage it for me. You could be that person.”

She was listening hungrily now. This was weird, though. She hated him. Conflicting emotions roiled through her. Didn’t hurt to listen, she concluded and leaned forward. “I’m listening. What is this ‘need’ you’ve discovered?”

Klaw’s steely grin was shark-like. “Many of the executives we work with are finding it difficult to find assistants who fit their particular needs. Subordinates are increasingly unwilling to do the simplest things to please their superiors. Good help is hard to find.”

She shivered, thinking about what Rebecca had told her went on at Cain. She had a good idea what “the simplest things” really meant. She nodded at him to continue, anxious to learn exactly what he was talking about.

“Well, Cain has been asked by some of our better clients—Chet Jackson for instance...” Joanne thought of her lawyer’s niece Avril. Jesus! “... for help in this regard. We’ve done so on an experimental basis and discovered a number of things. First, there is a great deal of money to be made by supplying compliant young ladies to strict male employers. Second, our methods of teaching respect and obedience, while effective, are subject to certain unexpected problems. The episode with Becky is a case in point. Third, though we can teach the girls sent to us respect and obedience for their employers—through various means not germane to this discussion—what we’ve found is that, despite our best efforts, it is impossible for us to teach females the most effective techniques for pleasing. After much discussion, we have determined that the most successful trainer for these girls would in fact be someone more in tuned emotionally and sexually. In other words, another GIRL.”

She recoiled at being called a girl. She was a woman, an independent WOM...

She couldn’t complete the thought. She tried again.

I AM A WO-

I am a-

i’m a girl.

“You could be that girl, Joanne. With the proper alterations—mental AND physical.” Klaw leered. “I’ve always been partial to big chested honies.”

Joanne sat, howling inside against this obscenity. But if someone had entered the office at that moment, all they would have seen was an attractive woman in her late thirties having a quiet discussion with a handsome, older, fiftyish man. Nothing was amiss—except that her will had been seized from her.

“In addition to supplying sex-toy secretaries,” Klaw continued, “there are lots of other applications for this training. Too many companies must deal with female executives who take their token roles far too seriously for their own good. Instead of being grateful for being overpaid equal-opportunity hires, they insist on actually trying to change and form company policies and business decisions. In many corporations, this has reached an intolerable level. These ladies must be re-educated with an eye toward turning them back into what they were intended to be. Pretty window dressing for the male executives...”

Joanne pondered thirty years of feminist ideology and legislation being callously ignored and repealed by this monster. She wouldn’t help him, she’d fight him and his-

“Or consider the difficulty posed by recalcitrant wives who threaten divorce over such trifles as their executive husband’s office dalliances. These men who work so hard for their positions are horrified to think that half of it could be taken away because of a spiteful wife. Naturally, these wives must be taught to love, honor and, most importantly, obey their husbands—and not bother themselves with their private affairs.”

Joanne struggled to say something, anything, but could not.

“And, speaking of wives, why not provide a service to provide trophy wives or pretty mistresses to older executives bored with their current wives? Lots of potential there. Or gentlemen who have specific proclivities involving different methods of intercourse to which their current females refuse to consent. Proper tutoring could solve these types of problems. You know the way some girls get about these things. Of course you know—you’ve been training Amy and Kristen for me, haven’t you?” Klaw wrinkled his brows, his jaw thrust out, just staring at her.

A flood of memories—previously concealed—flooded through her mind. Incredibly, she nodded in agreement.

It was true!

“You knew this all along Jo. You’ve been training those two bitches in my absence, thinking as I would. Naturlich—I placed those thoughts within you. You wondered how I was able to siphon all the information out of your firm, but you knew all along. You commanded the two bimbos to gather it up for me. Ironic isn’t it? You’ve been efficiently managing your own destruction since we met in Lucerne those many months ago.”

The cinemascope of her memory began to spin in response to the truth of his statement. She felt the crop in her hand, slashing down hard on Amy’s ass, the coppery fear taste as she knelt before Mr. Klaw, documents held up to him in obeisance.

It was utterly true.

She had been his puppet all along. Klaw’s chuckle was a jaded tinkle of derision.

“You won’t be a true executive, of course, but you’ll need a title with authority over the girls you’ll be training. I thought ‘Co-ordinator for Special Affairs’ sounded right. Like it?”

Again, Joanne nodded dumbly. Awkwardly, her lips moved. The answer that emerged was slurry. “Yes sir.”

He pushed forward a typed piece of paper. “Read about your exciting new position. I’ve already had it sent out to the press. She scanned it dully.

DISGRACED CONSULTING MORGAN AND COMPANY CHIEF OFFERED SECOND CHANCE BY CAIN CONSULTING

Joanne Morgan, founder and former CEO of the now defunct Morgan & Company international consulting firm, has announced she will be taking a position with the firm she was convicted of conducting industrial espionage against: Cain Consulting. In a move described by Justice Mavis Beacon as “magnanimous in the extreme,” Cain Consulting offered Morgan a position with the firm as Co-ordinator of Special Affairs. In her new role, she will be reporting directly to Irwin Klaw, Cain’s CEO, and directing the operations of GC Enterprises, a new division of Cain Consulting.

“I’m thrilled to be at Cain and with the chance to learn at the feet of a genius,” Miss Morgan announced. “Irwin Klaw is an industry luminary from whom I will learn more than I ever knew at Morgan and Company.”

She was crying now and Klaw handed her a handkerchief.

“There, there. Be a good girl and wipe your eyes. You have a question?”

“GC Enterprises?” she asked in a whisper. She wasn’t slurring now. Her mind was adapting quickly to the new structures built in her psyche.

“Glass Ceiling, my dear. You’re going to help me lower it even more.”

She could talk again. Good. She would ask a question—the only one left.

“Who are you?” The words were ragged, fluttering on the air like shredded silk.

His eyes drank her in now, bathing her with their soulless, purple gaze. “How did I describe myself in my last will and testament—that first of many such documents?” The purplish light beamed from his mouth now, howling in hilarity. “But that one was in French—a language you don’t know. Let me translate for you—‘Imperious, choleric, irascible, extreme in everything, with a dissolute imagination the like of which has never been seen, atheistic to the point of fanaticism, there you have me in a nutshell, and kill me again or take me as I am, for I shall not change.’”

He grinned now, his twisted teeth feral and razor-like.

“Nor have I since changed. Not as Caligula or de Sade or Fragellus or Von Sader or any of the other legion human names by which I have been known. But what matter names to us now Jo? We have a personal relationship. You know who I am.”

The engine that powered Joanne Morgan’s sanity slipped a linear cog and she fell tottering into the abyss of unconsciousness. As she swooned into the comforting darkness, she heard the creature who was now her master whisper.”

“I am your sexual nightmare.”