The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Jenna stared blearily at the coffee machine on the counter. Drip... drip... drip... beep-beep-be-beep! That wasn’t right. It was supposed to make an annoying bzzt-bzzt-bzzt when the coffee was done. She blinked. No, it was her cell phone back in the bedroom.

By the time she stumbled back to the nightstand, the phone had quit ringing, and she was conscious enough to read the caller ID message: “Starmony Modeling”. The voicemail icon appeared; the agency had left a message. Fumbling at the screen, she played it back.

“Jenna, it’s Karla. The ‘Got Game!’ producers are looking for swimsuit models for one of their T&A shows. Call me back right away if you’re interested; with the rates and perks they’re offering this one is sure to get snapped up fast. I’m giving you an early heads-up, but I’ll have to throw it open soon, so get back to me ASAP.”

She was wide awake now. That “rates and perks” comment sounded very promising, and she had no problem with showing off how she looked in a swimsuit. She tapped the “return call” button.

“Hello, Karla? It’s Jenna. Sorry I missed your call.... you said ‘Got Game!’ was hiring?... Yeah, I’m interested. Thanks.... Oh, you didn’t owe me anything.... I just didn’t want to see you get ripped off.... Nine o’clock sharp tomorrow morning, no problem.... OK; I’ll check my e-mail and call you back if it doesn’t show up.... Thanks again!”

Jenna grinned at her good luck. Last time she’d stopped by the agency office, Karla was grousing about a thousand-dollar estimate for some car repairs, and she’d suggested getting a second opinion from her favorite garage. They’d done the job for a little over four hundred. Over Jenna’s protests that it was nothing, Karla had insisted that she’d find a way to return the favor. Apparently this was it.

She heard the coffee machine buzzer and headed back to the kitchen for breakfast.

Jenna allowed a generous safety margin to make sure she got to the appointment on time. She didn’t need it; traffic was remarkably smooth that morning. It wasn’t even eight-o-clock yet when she found the “Got Game!” offices—a nondescript little building in a corner of a nondescript little office park. There was a mall just down the road; she found a coffee shop and settled down to have a latte and do a little last-minute review. She found a corner booth that offered a modicum of privacy and got out the clipboard holding the contract and a small notebook.

The job was a two-week-long shoot at a vacation spa. The ostensible premise of “Girlfriends’ Getaway” was a sitcom about girls meeting at just such an establishment, playing off each other’s quirks and getting on each other’s nerves. It was described as a one-shot with the potential to go to series. After the shoot finished, she was supposed to give them a chance to sign her up for the long term. That sounded like as much fun as a multilevel marketing meeting, but she was only required to stay for the first hour.

The description didn’t include much detail; apparently the producers intended to fill things in when they finished hiring the actresses. It was probably going to be more like reality TV than a scripted show. That didn’t really matter, of course. The target audience wasn’t looking for clever plot twists or scintillating dialog, just girls in skimpy swimsuits and tight spandex, with occasional wet and sweaty moments to spice things up even more.

Most of the contract was standard boilerplate. The production company retained all rights to the recordings, transportation and lodging provided, arrangements to reschedule shooting in case of accident, illness, or act of God, yada yada yada. In addition to a fairly high base pay rate, the terms included a per diem for incidental expenses and a small but potentially significant percentage of gross revenue. All in all, it was a pretty good deal for someone with a fairly short acting and modeling resume.

Jenna couldn’t help snickering as she re-read the language describing the nature of the recording session. The legalistic language added an air of prissy euphemism to the statement that the job required her to present herself in “sexually suggestive attire, poses, and performances”, though she reserved the right to reject “semi-nude”, “fully nude”, or “sexually intimate” scenes. Footnotes at the end defined the terms and distinctions is fine detail. Basically, it meant bouncing around in a skimpy bikini, keeping both halves of it on, and maintaining ‘look but don’t touch’ boundaries.

The contract also offered significantly higher pay and percentage rates if she waived those restrictions. Apparently the rumor she’d heard was true—“Got Game!” was adding outright skin flicks to its already risqué lineup.

Apparently, they were eager to get those waivers. All an actress had to do was make the declaration “I dare to go bare!” on camera and then allow herself to be filmed in a semi-nude, fully nude, and/or sexually intimate situation for five minutes without changing her mind to prove that she meant it. She wondered if something like that would really hold up in court. Obviously the company’s lawyers thought so.

She glanced at her notes from last night. Yes, she’d listed this as something to raise during negotiations. She had no intention of waiving her right to stay on the respectable side of the line between jiggle and porn. That clause had to go, or at least be revised to require a signed and witnessed document.

She moved on, reviewing the less entertaining paragraphs of legal meeble. Karla had checked it before forwarding it to her, and she’d read through it last night. It never hurt to be sure, though.

Just as she reached the last page of the document, her phone alarm beeped. It was quarter to nine, time to head back to the production office. Her luck continued as she cruised through three green lights and found a parking space just a few paces from the front door. She was ten minutes early, about right to come across as punctual rather than overeager.

Clipboard in hand, she pressed the intercom button. “I’m Jenna Rysberg. I have a nine o’clock appointment.”

“Come in.” said a voice from the speaker grate. There was a whirr and a click, and the door opened into a reception area. Inside, an auburn-haired woman sat behind a curved desk with a phone and a large computer screen. “Hello, Jenna. Ms Tritschler will be with you in a few minutes,” the receptionist said as she reached into a drawer. “While you’re waiting, let me give you your gift packet.”

“Thanks.”

The other woman handed her a gift bag. “Please have a seat,” she said, waving toward the empty chairs facing the desk.

With nothing better to do at the moment, she looked into the bag. It contained a babydoll-cut t-shirt in her size, a handful of network-logo buttons and stickers, and a half-dozen DVDs of the network’s programming, ranging from the days when it was a tech show called “Got Gadgets!” and following its progression from video games to gossip to jiggle as it chased the teen and twentysomething geek-guy market.

She heard footsteps approaching. The receptionist returned, holding out a “Got Game!” propeller beanie. “I almost forgot to mention—you’re supposed to wear this.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I know it sounds silly,” she admitted. “The idea is that if you get the job, you’re going to represent the ‘Got Game!’ brand, and Ms Tritschler wants to get a feel for how well you can do that.” Clearly, it didn’t make any sense to her, either.

“I see.” Another stupid management idea that the worker bees were stuck with, then. Oh, well, it was less annoying than some others she’d run into. Jenna sat still as the cap was placed on her head and the chin straps were fastened in place to hold it. A switch clicked, and she felt a faint breeze as the propeller blades spun. She decided to ignore the toy and focus on the audition.

“Oh, one last thing. Did you bring your copy of the contract? We can print out another one for you if you need one.”

“I have it here.” She held up her clipboard. As she glanced at it, it suddenly occurred to her that she should use the time to take one last look at it.

The words seemed to leap directly from the page into her brain. They were much clearer than when she’d read them earlier. That was good. The contract was important. The moment she signed it, she would be bound to it. She would have to follow its rules, defer to its authority, accept and carry out any orders it authorized her employers to give.

The white noise from the beanie actually made it easier to concentrate, somehow. It made everything clearer. The terms of the contract were perfect. She just needed to sign and make it official. Then, she would need to do exactly what it said. That was only fair. That was the right thing to do. That was what she would do.

After a few minutes, she finished re-reading the appendices and footnotes. She put the clipboard aside. She didn’t need to look at it again. Every word was indelibly fixed in her memory.

She heard a buzz from the desk. The receptionist listened to her earpiece, then looked up at her. “Ms Tritschler will see you now.”

“Thank you.” She held out the gift bag, keeping the contract tucked under her arm. “Would you hold this for me?”

“I’ll keep it here in my desk.” She put it in a drawer. “Her office is the big glass door at the end of the hallway,” she said as she pointed. “Just walk right in, she’s expecting you. When you’re finished, don’t forget to stop by and pick up your bag.”

She followed the instructions. The expensive-looking carpet and paneling of the corridor made her feel more self-conscious every moment about the silly whirring toy on top of her head. She paused in front of the door, stalling by double-checking the “Meredith Tritschler” name plate. She reminded herself that the beanie wasn’t her idea, opened the door, and stepped inside.

“Jenna!” The tall redhead sitting behind the desk beamed at her. She rose and took Jenna’s hand in both of hers. “Your agent tells me good things about you.”

“Thanks.”

“I assume you’ve reviewed the contract? Do you have any questions or concerns?” She leaned forward with an expression that suggested that Jenna’s answer was the most important thing in her world.

“The contract is perfect. I’m ready to sign up, Ms Tritschler.” She could hardly wait to sign the contract and let it guide her.

“Call me ‘Merry’.” She stepped out from behind the desk. “I’m glad that you’re so enthusiastic, but I need to see you show off your stuff before we seal the deal.” She moved to Jenna’s side and put an arm across her shoulders. “This way,” she said, guiding Jenna out the door and down one of the corridors.

When Merry opened one of the doors, Jenna momentarily thought that they’d somehow gone around in a circle. At first glance, the room looked just like the office they’d just left. As she walked in and got a better look, Jenna saw a half-dozen cameras covering the room from various angles. It was a studio set made to look like Merry’s office. She didn’t really know the other woman at all, but from what she’d seen of her so far it seemed just like her.

“Let me take that.” Merry put the contract on her desk-away-from-desk. “The changing room is over there.” Merry pointed to a door. Jenna remembered the exact same door in the office; she guessed that one led to a private bathroom. “You’ll find your outfit in there. As soon as you’re ready, we’ll start a little roleplaying scenario.”

Jenna did a double-take. “Ah, roleplaying!” she said after realization kicked in. She hoped Merry hadn’t noticed her moment of perplexity—what did Dungeons and Dragons have to do with anything?

“You’re going to pretend that you’re in my office trying to convince me to give you the job.” She snickered. “Well, of course you are here to convince me to give you the job. Where the pretending comes into it is how you’re going to try to convince me.“

She winked. “In this scenario, you heard rumors about me being a lesbian, and you’re trying to seduce me into giving you the job.”

“You’re a lesbian?” Jenna wondered why she’d asked that question. Why should that matter? After all, she wasn’t trying to really seduce her. She was just putting on a show for the cameras. That made it all right.

Merry apparently wondered the same thing. “Why do you want to know?” She raised an eyebrow. “Are you a lesbian?“

“No!” she replied, a bit too quickly and emphatically. “I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with that....” She trailed off lamely, wondering if she’d just blown her chance.

“Don’t worry.” Merry’s tone was reassuring. Everything would be all right. “I’m going to keep this strictly professional.” Merry tapped at the clipboard. “Let’s set a clear guideline. The audition will use the same ‘no partial or full nudity’ and ‘no sexually intimate contact’ rules as the contract.”

The rules in the contract were good. As long as she followed them, she couldn’t go wrong. “In that case, I think I can do this,” Jenna said.

Merry smiled. “That’s my girl! There’s no need to be nervous. It’s just acting. All you’re doing is showing me how well you can project sex appeal.”

“I’ll be ready in a minute,” Jenna declared as she headed for the little dressing room.

Inside hung a little black dress, with matching demibra and panties hanging from the next hook. Two more empty hooks gave Jenna convenient places to put the clothes she was wearing as she stripped them off.

She paused to look at herself in the mirror as she adjusted the black lace undergarments. They left practically nothing to the imagination, but technically did not cross the line into “nudity or semi-nudity”. She wondered if she was really supposed to keep wearing the propeller beanie. Well, she’d been told to keep it on and Merry hadn’t told her to take it off. It somehow added a note of cute innocence to her sexy look.

Fortunately, the dress didn’t need to be pulled over her head. She slipped it on and zipped it up. Taking another look at herself, she zipped it partway down.

Showtime. She strode through the door. “Oh, Ms Tritschler...” she cooed, remembering that she was supposed to pretend that this was their first meeting. “Or should I call you ‘Merry’?” Brash and forward was the way to play this game.

“Ms Rysberg...!” Merry played her part well. To see and hear her, you’d think she really had no idea what was happening. Jenna recalled from her background research that she had been a model and actress herself before making the move to management.

“Call me ‘Jenna’.” She started sliding down the zipper. “Or just call me ‘Sexy’. That’s what you want for this job, isn’t it?”

“Ms Rysberg... what you seem to be proposing is highly unethical....” The words were prim and proper, but the tone was shaky and uncertain.

Merry’s eyes followed her body as she took a step closer, and then another. “No it’s not,” she replied. “I’m using sex appeal to get a job that’s all about sex appeal. That’s just common sense.”

“Don’t... we shouldn’t do this....” Jenna’s ears perked up at the word “we” and its implications. Merry’s show of resistance to the idea was crumbling.

“Yes we should. It’s the best way for me to prove that I’ve got what you want.” She winked. “For the job, I mean.”

The dress fell to the floor in front of the desk. “This’ll pull in the viewers, don’t you think?” She sat on the desk, and swung her legs up onto it. “Take a good close look.”

“You do put on an impressive show.” Merry was openly ogling her. If she wasn’t a lesbian, she was one good actress, Jenna thought as she scooted closer to the other woman. She lifted and swung her legs to put them on the arms of Merry’s chair, pinning her between them.

“Do the chair arms come off?”

“No.” Merry moaned the word in a disappointed tone.

Jenna wondered what she should do now. She couldn’t give Merry a lap dance... wait, was she actually trying to give another woman a lap dance? Something was wrong....

The clipboard was still on top of the desk. She glanced at it, and things made sense again. She hadn’t actually signed the contract, but she’d agreed to follow it for now. A clothed lap dance wasn’t “sexually intimate”; nobody was touching anybody’s nipples, buttocks, or genitals. That cleared things up. There was nothing wrong with the idea, except that the stupid chair arms were in the way.

She’d have to come up with something else.

She leaned forward, bracing her hands against the back of Merry’s executive chair. “You know you can’t resist me. You know you don’t want to. So... are you going to give me the job, or are we going to stay like this until someone walks in and starts a scandal?”

Moving in a bit closer, she pressed her lips against the other woman’s.

After a long smooch, she pulled back to take a breath. “Well?”

“Yes...” Merry sighed. “You get the job.”

Jenna grinned. “Yes!” she cried.

The two women remained in position, staring at each other.

Finally, Merry coughed and broke the silence. “Ah, Jenna... the audition is over. You need to get down off my desk so I can sign the contract.”

“Oh. Right.” Jenna scooted backwards and got her feet back on the floor.

“Congratulations, and welcome to the ‘Got Game!’ family,” Merry said as she signed her name. “If this show works out—and I’m confident that it will—we’ll probably be calling you again soon,” she continued as Jenna applied her signature and made it official.

“Thanks. Excuse me a minute while I get dressed.” Jenna turned toward the dressing-room door.

“Ah, Jenna....” She sounded even more embarrassed than she had a moment ago. “Forgive me for saying this, but I really think you ought to take a shower first. You worked up a bit of a sweat.”

Jenna took a deep sniff of the air. She definitely did smell of sweat... and sex. If she got dressed now, the trip home would feel like a walk of shame.

“You can use the washroom in my office. Just take your clothes and leave the outfit you’re wearing there.”

“Thanks a lot!” Every breath reminded her of how much she needed that shower.

“You’re welcome. Oh, and take off the beanie before you get in the shower and leave it there with the other things. I’ll have Paige put a fresh clean one in your bag.”

“Thanks.” Jenna paused. “Oh, and speaking of getting cleaned up, I think the propeller messed up your hair when we were... auditioning.”

Merry reached into a drawer and took out a mirror and hairbrush. Jenna wondered why she kept anything in the prop desk drawers. Well, it made sense to have grooming supplies at the studio, and the desk was as good a place as any.

Jenna gathered up her outfit as Merry brushed her hair. They walked back to the actual office.

“Thanks again for everything!” Jenna said as she stepped into the executive washroom. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

“That’s the spirit!” Meredith Tritschler replied. “And let me say that I’m really looking forward to working with you!