The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Jenna went to the set about half an hour before the next scene began shooting. She didn’t have anywhere else in particular to be.

The crew was setting up the lights and cameras around a padded massage table. Her role in the scene would be to lie down and get a backrub.

The redhead attendant came in the other door, pushing a small cart with bottles and jars on top. She now wore a terrycloth robe embroidered with a “Good Hands” logo. Apparently she was the masseuse. That was good; she’d expected this to turn into another excuse for Christine to paw at her.

She ought to be trying to make a decision and get the matter settled one way or the other—either insist on the contract limitations and have her name attached to the result, or shed her clothes and inhibitions completely and hide the performance behind a pseudonym. From a purely pragmatic viewpoint, the latter option made more sense; it would make things easier and allow herself to distance herself from this project. She just couldn’t quite bring herself to lower her personal barriers that far.

“Don’t be nervous.” Jenna started as she realized that the attendant was talking to her. “I don’t bite.”

Jenna chuckled to herself ruefully as she imagined the innuendo Christine would have packed into that statement.

“The table’s ready. It might help if I work on your neck and shoulders a bit.”

“Thanks...” Jenna trailed off awkwardly.

“Jocelyn.” She stepped toward the table and patted it. “Just strip down as much as you’re comfortable with and lie on the table face down with your face in the cushion.”

She was supposed to wear a bikini under a robe for the massage scene, she remembered. The scene hadn’t started yet, so she was still wearing a t-shirt and jeans with a bra and panties underneath.

Her bra and panties covered just as much as a bikini—probably more than the bikini she’d worn for the pool scenes. Being self-conscious about one but not the other was just silly. It wasn’t as if Christine were here to leer at her. The only people around were a professional—and all-female, she suddenly noticed—tech crew and Jocelyn, who was watching impassively.

She kicked off her shoes and stripped off her shirt and jeans before she got cold feet.

“Take your time and get comfortable.” Jocelyn’s voice was smooth and reassuring. She lay face-down on the table, draping herself over the padded surface, adjusting her head to get her face snugly settled into the U-shaped pillow.

“Go ahead,” Jenna said. She closed her eyes and felt Jocelyn’s hands rubbing lotion onto her shoulders.

Her thoughts felt clearer as Jocelyn’s hands worked on her tense muscles. Instead of running around in circles, they focused on the two alternatives. It was easier to consider the benefits and drawbacks of each choice as she let herself feel detached from the problem.

She could insist on the more restrictive option, keeping a few small portions of her body covered up and untouched. The production would still be awash in sexual innuendo and nudity, though. As Merry had pointed out, there were all sorts of directorial tricks to imply more than could be directly shown, like the scene of the two of them walking into the shower. With a bit of misdirection, audiences would conflate her scantily-clad T&A shots with Christine’s nudity, and lump it all into “lesbian porn”.

And her name would be on it, establishing new expectations about what she was willing to do on camera and pushing her career in directions she didn’t really intend to go.

The alternative was to waive the restrictions. She would have to put up with a lot for a few days, but then she could write off the whole thing as a secret indiscretion. She could do that.

She felt a jolt of surprise as she realized what she was thinking.

“Relax,” Jocelyn told her, feeling the sudden tension. She settled down and tried to push the troublesome thought aside.

It refused to go away. It would be just a few days of indignity, and then she could put this behind her. This show would get lost in the sea of “Didn’t so-and-so make a porn movie back when they needed the money?” rumors. The changes to her appearance would help discredit the notion. She wouldn’t even have to lie, just “refuse to dignify that with a response”. That would be the end of it.

Jocelyn rubbed the back of Jenna’s neck. “Whatever you’re worried about, let it go for a few minutes.”

Jenna stopped trying to think things through and just let images of the two possibilities flow through her mind. She felt her neck muscles loosen under Jocelyn’s kneading.

She saw herself giving Christine a “mouth-to-mouth” kiss... saw herself sitting at dinner with Christine making bedroom eyes and suggestively sucking on an oyster... saw herself and Christine walking into the shower building side by side. In each image, her name “Jenna Rysberg” appeared as a clear prominent credit. She remembered old movie scenes showing couples—heterosexual couples, of course—in situations of unmistakable carnal intimacy while sticking to the letter of the Hays Code. She pictured herself, prominently credited, in similarly compromising positions with Christine.

She also saw herself naked with Christine, allowing her tits and ass and pussy to be pawed and photographed. The label “Jane Doe” appeared next to her, flowing onto the screen in lavender-colored script. Her own name in the other images appeared in simple block lettering. That probably meant something. She’d figure it out later. She’d have to figure out a better name, anyway.

The second option was a lot more appealing... once it was all over and out there to be seen. The pawing and photographing, though... weren’t so bad to imagine as if they were happening to somebody else, but she still didn’t know if she could actually do it.

Jenna straightened her neck and began lifting herself from the table. “I’m sorry. I just have too much to think about right now to really let myself relax.”

“It’s all right,” Jocelyn assured her. “Just try not to tense up like that when we’re on camera, all right?”

“All right.” By then, the decision would be made. She looked at the clock. Ten minutes. She could ask for more time—it wasn’t as if she’d been given a take-it-or-leave-it ultimatum to choose before they continued filming—but the sooner the matter was settled the better.

She got up off the table and stretched. As she got her bearings, she turned, and saw Merry conferring with the gaffer about equipment setup. Merry also saw her, and broke off the conversation to approach her.

“I have some good news. I spoke to the higher management about your concerns, and convinced them to agree to a compromise.”

Merry turned away to dig out a clipboard from the bag hanging from one side of her director’s chair. “They’ve agreed to offer you this contract rider. It gives you the pseudonym credit you want in exchange for a partial waiver.”

“How ‘partial’?” Jenna grabbed the clipboard; Merry let her have it.

The rider replaced two clauses of the original contract. The first replaced the pseudonym clause with one that gave her the unilateral prerogative to be credited under whatever name she wished, so long as it avoided duplication, trademark infringement, yada yada yada.

The second was a new clause concerning her right to veto “semi-nude”, “fully nude”, or “sexually intimate” scenes. The clause itself looked more of less the same as the old one, except for the new set of attached definitions. Nudity and intimacy were defined by exposure of or contact with her nipples or genitals; all mention of “buttocks” had been excised.

Jenna couldn’t help laughing at the pun that came to mind. “In other words, they want my ass.”

“That’s one way to put it.” Merry help up a hand. “I realize that I’m adding a new option at the last minute, so I don’t expect an answer right away. For now, just lie down on the table while the crews double-check the lighting and camera angles.”

Jenna lay face down on the table again. Could she take this deal? A few months ago, she’d considered accepting an offer where she would have been modeling a swimsuit with a butt-baring thong. She’d turned it down... but if she hadn’t gotten another gig she might have accepted.

The real issue was that the newly limited definition of “sexually intimate” would permit slaps and grabs and pinches down there. No doubt Christine would take full advantage. Maybe she could press for a look-but-don’t-touch rule....

“Just lie down and think about your decision while the lighting and camera crews finish their adjustments,” Merry’s voice said. “Make sure you’ve got your head centered on the pillow.” Hands gently touched her just above the ears, guiding her head into position.

“Now, let me turn on the relaxation white noise for you.”

A soft hum sounded in her ears.

“I’ll put the contract rider down here so you can read it.” The clipboard was placed on the floor directly below Jenna’s face. She could see it through the cushion opening, but it was a bit too far away to read... and yet she could clearly perceive every word of the document.

It made perfect sense, she knew. She’d scored quite a triumph by getting the “Got Game!” producers to bend this far. Showing her ass was no big deal, really; it was just the luck of the employment draw that had kept her from getting around to it already. If Christine got grabby, it would be an embarrassment to Christine, not to her.

She smiled. Really, they’d met her more than halfway. She’d better grab this deal before they took it off the table. It was a perfect way out of her dilemma.

Jenna had let her arms hang down from the sides of the massage table. She lifted them to her sides and hooked her thumbs under her panty waistband. One quick push... no, she needed to wait until the document was actually signed. Then, once everything was in place, she could lie here and bare her behind without showing any real naughty bits.

She lay there for a few minutes, relaxed, listening to the soothing hum. It became more and more clear to her that this was the right decision.

Finally, she heard Merry’s voice. “All right, you can get up now.”

Jenna swung her legs down to the floor. At once, she bent down to pick up the clipboard. After a moment of fumbling to get a grip on the pen tied to the attached loop, she found the blank line next to her typed name and signed the paper.

“Well, that was a quick decision!” Merry reached out; Jenna handed her the contract. She signed her own name. “Now it’s officially settled.”

She waved to Jocelyn, who picked up a small satchel and approached them. “Before we start filming the scene, we might as well give you one more bit of plausible deniability. Lie down and pull down your panties.”

Jenna got into position, face down on the table. “Could you turn the white noise back on? That was really soothing.”

“If you like.” There was a click, and the hum sounded again. “I turned it on to help relax you while you thought about what you wanted to do. I suppose it can’t do any harm to leave it on for a while, just to help you feel confident that you made the right choice.”

“Oh, I’m sure this is the right decision.” Jenna grasped her waistband and pulled her panties down as far as she could reach. “Can one of you get them the rest of the way off?” she asked as she lowered her underwear as far as she could reach.

“It’ll be simpler if we don’t do that yet.” Jenna felt a gentle touch at her left buttock. It was hard to tell, but it felt too small to be a hand or even a finger. “We’re giving you another temporary tattoo. You’ll be able to give people a little more proof that the girl in this show isn’t Jenna Rysberg, if you’re willing to be just a little bit naughty under your own name and flash your tattoo-free buns.”

“What is it?” It didn’t really matter; it was a good idea and whatever Merry came up with should be fine.

“Just Greek letters—we looked for a combination that didn’t match any real sorority name on the internet, and added an extra letter to be sure,” Merry said. “Congratulations, you’re a Delta Upsilon Kappa Epsilon.”

Jenna focused on staying still as the pen or brush or whatever they were using tickled her butt.

The work only took a couple of minutes. Jenna listened as Merry asked the camera crew to confirm that they had clear reference pictures to correctly duplicate the image later and triple-checked with Jocelyn that the massage oil would not blur the marks.

Finally, Jenna felt her panties being pulled back up. “OK, now get up and follow Jocelyn’s lead,” Merry told her.

She allowed Jocelyn to lead her to the main entrance to the room. Jocelyn put one hand around her waist and stood in place for a long moment.

“Action!”

Jocelyn stepped into the room, gently nudging Jenna to follow. Side by side, the two women sashayed toward the massage table, Jenna imitating the wiggle in Jocelyn’s walk without needing to be explicitly cued. She stretched, giving the cameras a good view of her bra-clad breasts, then slowly settled onto the table.

The hum was still sounding in the pillow speakers. It was unobtrusive, like the sensations of her bra being unhooked and slid out from underneath her and her panties sliding down her legs and past her feet.

She breathed in and out slowly, taking in the fragrance of the oil that flowed warmly over her neck and shoulders. Jocelyn’s touch felt even more pleasant than it had before as her fingers worked on her already-relaxing body.

Bit by bit the hands moved down her back, down her ribs and toward her hips. She didn’t really notice the transition between “rubbing her back” and “fondling her ass”. It was a silly meaningless distinction anyway.

She remembered how Christine had described her own decision to move on from bikini-jiggle to full nudity. It was simply a matter of personal taste, she realized. Drawing the line in a different place didn’t make her “better” or make Christine “cheap”. They were just two different artistic decisions, and what she was doing now was an equally valid artistic decision different that staked out a bit of new ground.

Jocelyn’s hands worked the tension out of her. It felt good to let go, to give in and let it happen. She felt herself zoning out into a half-awake half-asleep limbo. There was only sensation... stroking and kneading and squeezing at her buttocks, the smell of oil in her nostrils, the warmth of the lights on her back, and the steady drone in her ears.

After a while, she noticed that the stroking and kneading had moved to her calves. She could feel that her thigh muscles had been thoroughly massaged, but didn’t actually remember it happening.

The scene must be almost done. She hoped the cameras had gotten good footage.

The hum was quieter now, letting her hear the sound of hands rubbing against her flesh and her own slow steady breathing. She felt like she was waking up after a long refreshing sleep.

Everything was so simple and easy now. She was over the initial jitters of getting settled into the job. Christine was... brash, with a style that clashed with hers and took some getting used to, but it was a contrast she could work with to enhance both their performances. There was no need for any more personal drama.

She stretched and wiggled her butt. Give them a good show. She sighed as Jocelyn rubbed her feet with slow firm strokes.

Finally, she was lying limp on the table with nobody touching her. She let the moment go on as long as it could. There was no hurry....

She heard Christine’s voice “I’m ready as soon you’re done filming the backrub.”

A flash of her old annoyance at her costar returned. “Give me a minute, okay?” she murmured.

“That’s all right, Jenna. Tell us when you’re ready to get up so we can turn off the cameras.”

Merry was being careful not to photograph anything that wasn’t covered by the contract. That was good professional conduct. It made everything clear and straightforward. Jenna approved.

“Christine, we still have a few preparations before we can start shooting the next scene. You can take a break and come back in fifteen minutes.”

“That’s all right, I’ll wait here.”

“I think Jenna would be more comfortable if you didn’t.”

“That’s all right.” Jenna was a bit surprised to hear herself say that. She remembered how indignant she’d been over the liberties Christine had been taking with her. That feeling was gone now. As long as she didn’t overstep the contractual bounds, it was all right. Christine was annoying, yes, but they could work together and trust each other as long as they both followed the rules.

Christine chuckled. “It’s ‘all right’ if I see you naked?”

“Just keep your mouth shut and your hands to yourself.” Once again, she felt a bit surprised at herself. The reaction faded as she considered it sensibly. She wasn’t a prude; she could deal with somebody seeing her naked as long as they respected the boundaries she set. “And double-check for me that the cameras are off.“

“As you wish.”

“The cameras are off now,” Merry added. “You can get up whenever you’re ready.”

Jenna lifted her head and propped herself up on her arms. She looked left and right. Sure enough, the lights had faded to basic illumination level, and not one of the red “recording” lights was glowing. Everyone was following the rules. Everything was all right.

She rolled over, swiveled her legs, and lifted her body to sit on the massage table.

“You might as well get up and stretch your legs a bit before the next scene,” Merry told her. “If you want to sit, you can use my chair. We need the table clear so we can wipe it down for you.”

Jenna hopped down. “I’ll stand, thanks. Did something go wrong with the cameras?”

“No. Why?”

“I thought you would have gotten enough pictures of me getting a naked backrub.” An idea that was still slightly irritating crossed her mind. “Don’t tell me you’re getting Christine to give me a massage.”

“Actually, yes.”

Jenna sighed. “Oh, well, a backrub’s a backrub.”

Merry grinned. “You already had your backrub. This time, you’re going to be face up for a full frontal view.”