The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Dating Service

Summary: mind control, incest, Mf, minor ff

Veronica finally decides to try one of those dating services, and they do make her into a successful date—several men, including her boss and ex-husband try her out and pronounce her one hell of a hot time.

See No Evil: Contains sexually explicit and politically incorrect material. If you shouldn’t be reading this, or if it might offend you, simply stop now.

Legalese: All actors and actresses are over the age of consent. Proof of age is on file. Any similarity of any character, event or place to any actual person, event or place, is purely coincidental. This is all fantasy, and the actors are all professionals—do not try any of this at home.

Archiving: You are welcome to discreetly repost or archive this, just do not change it, steal from it or claim credit for it.

Have fun!

8. Bending Over to Pick Up Words

“Samuel, wake up.”

“Ungh? Mom? What time is it?”

“It’s 6:45.”

“I don’t get up until 7:00, but thanks anyway.” He rolled over and punched his pillow to catch fifteen more minutes of precious sleep.

“Sammy, wake up.”

“Hungh? C’mon, Mom. Sleep deprivation is cruel and unusual. I have the court case to prove it.”

“Har, har. You can spare fifteen minutes of sleep for me.”

“No, really.” Sammy sat up groggily. “I looked up the ruling at the campus library. It’s considered cruel and—”

“Here.” She handed him a piece of paper with writing. “Read that out loud.”

Samuel held the paper to his face and focused. “Uhm, Mom, this contains profanity.”

“Just read it, please,” she sighed.

“Pussies need to be filled with lust,” he read, “and heads drained of hate.”

Did she feel any different?

Was she mad at Doug? Yeah.

Did she hate him? Maybe.

Did she want to carve out his heart with a spoon? Actually, she’d rather suck his long ... hard ....

Stop that, she chastised herself!

The phrase wasn’t working. She had no doubt she’d remembered it right, but apparently it didn’t work when just anyone said it.

“Are you okay, Mom?” Samuel was studying her.

“Yeah.” She took the paper back.

“It’s poetic in a way, I guess. Did you write it?”

“No.” She stood and walked to his bedroom door. “You should get ready for classes.” That left two possibilities, she thought as she walked up the hall: it only worked when an EZ “cock” said it, or it only worked when Doug said it. If it were the latter, her whole plan was lost; it was probably lost even if it were the former.

What to do now?

She guessed she should probably get dressed and go to work and hope that Engel didn’t dumb her down during business hours.

And keep watching for her opportunity ....

Her brow furrowed. In fact ....

In fact ... !

She walked to her desk and retrieved her micro cassette recorder. If she could tape Engel over the next few days, get him to say all the words in that magical sentence individually, then splice them together in the right order ....

That just might work!

It was worth a try ....

* * *

“Man, I just don’t want my little boy growing up geek,” Barry told Samuel as they walked from World Hist 2 to Calc 2.

“I’m not your little boy. And you’re just tired of being a 21 year old virgin.”

“Well, yeah, that too. But we do need to do something. Virgins radiate something—like pregnant women. A girl can tell just by looking at you whether you are or not. And the older we get, the more embarrassing it is.”

“Maybe we ought to check with Professor Formaldehyde. Maybe there’s some type of litmus paper that when it touches a virgin’s skin glows white or something. No, wait, it’s sheep’s liver that does that, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, yeah. If you keep harassing me, I’m going to stop including you in my plans.”

“You ought to just take your cherry and give it to that nice blonde you saw in the bathroom stall. And I’ll work out my own future.”

“Wait, wait!” Barry skipped around in front of Samuel and studied him a second, narrowing his eyes. “You have a GIRL!”

“Maybe.” Samuel stepped to the side and continued walking.

“You HAVE to tell me!” Barry scampered after him.

“A gentleman never—”

“Don’t give me that! This is called living vicariously. It’s what I do. It’s how I’m built. I have no life of my own, so, like a vampire, I must suck experiences from the lives of others. Don’t deny me this. Who is she? Does she have a friend that might like short guys?”

“Her name is KC. She’s one of the cheerleaders here on campus.”

“A cheerleader?! What devil have you sold your soul to?! And will he accept mine too?!”

“Calm down, boy. She’s a really nice girl. My mother let her sleep over after she’d had too much to drink the other night, and we talked an hour and a half the next morning. She’s really sweet.”

“So your mom’s pimping for you ...,” Barry raised one eyebrow, musing.

“That’s enough, Barry,” Samuel warned.

“I wonder if I could get mine to pimp for me ...,” he lowered his eyebrow to Samuel’s frowning face. “You’re right. I shouldn’t talk about your mom like that. But a cheerleader?! Wow!”

Samuel halted at the door to the classroom. “Tongue in mouth, eyes in sockets. Don’t want Professor Martinez to think you’re epileptic. She might try to force a wallet in your mouth or something.”

“Man, a cheerleader ...,” Barry still muttered as the two stepped into math class.

* * *

Veronica wandered about her workday as though she were just a regular employee and not a cunt ready to engorge and bend over at any EZ client’s whim.

She played what she considered a dangerous but necessary game with Engel. When she walked into his office, he leered at her. “I must say, Ronnie,” he mused, playing with the red and green tiepin he wore to work today, “you make a fine whore—a fine one.”

She blushed and cast her eyes down. “Sir, about last—”

“Oh, don’t worry. You’ll keep your job. At least as long as you’re willing suck a little weener. Or in my case, a big ole schlong.” He laughed at his own joke. “I can’t fault you too much when the head of the company herself is whoring around.”

Almost: he said “head”, but she needed “heads”. The splice would probably be too messy to join two word pieces together, though she should be able to cut the tail off a word cleanly enough.

“Are you—” She risked a glance up at his eyes, then looked back down. “Are you going to let her stay the head of the company, sir? Or at least share that position with you?”

“You still admire her? Even after she spread and diddled herself in public like some animal in heat?”

“She was, uhm ... a woman worthy of respect—at least at one time. And we all ... have needs, sir.”

Engel nodded his head and narrowed his eyes. “Do you, Wilson? Do you have needs?”

Bingo: “needs”! She’d have to edit off the trailing “s” out, but she had the word “need” on tape. One major word down, six more to go.

“My, uhm,” she looked up and went fishing for a second word. Maybe she would get lucky. “My pussy has been really needy lately, sir. Like it needs to be filled aaaaall theeeee tiiiiiimmmmmmmme.” She fidgeted as she whined the last three words. She needed to keep him distracted, but not get him so turned on that he decided he wanted a mid-morning date.

“Filled all the time, hungh?” he contemplated as he scratched his jaw line.

Chuh-ching: “filled”! She decided to try for more.

“Yeah, my pussy’s just burning with lust! I hate this feeling!” she whined. Best case, this could get her three more words, and she might as well fish for as many as she could.

“No, it isn’t.”

Had she pushed it too far? Was he on to her? “Sir?”

“Not unless you’re doing something you oughtn’t to be doing. You haven’t been a ... bad little girl, have you, Wilson?”

“No, sir,” she shook her head, laying on the innocence—and the little girl mannerisms—thick. “I don’t THINK so?”

“Yeah,” he nodded slowly, studying her. “You’ve already found out that there’s no way for you to go to the police, haven’t you?”

Police? What was he talking about? “Sir?”

“Yeah, you always WERE one to do your own thing. I should’ve expected this. You’ve already found out what happens when you try to go to the police, haven’t you?”

Could she play him for further information? Or would it backfire on her? “I, uhm,” she cast her eyes down and clasped her fingers in front of her skirt, “I ... guess so ....”

“And what did you learn?”

“That Coach rules!” was the idiotic answer that popped up in her head, but she stifled it. “To, uhm ... to never even try that again.”

“Yeah, you just remember that. Don’t you even try to mess with us. We’re too smart for you.”

“I had to try it once, but, believe me, sir, I learned my lesson!”

“Smart girl, then.”

She gave a deliberately shy smile. “Thank you, sir.”

“Ah, I can’t do anything with you right now anyway. Leticia just sucked me off a half hour ago. Not as young as I used to be. Takes ole John Thomas a few minutes longer to ...,” he studied her again. “Well, get back out there and do work-type stuff.”

“Yes, sir.” She stepped back out of his office, feeling his eyes on her. She felt him know she was up to something, he just didn’t know what it was. It was a race, then: she needed to get the rest of the words from him and spliced together before he realized what she was up to.

* * *

After class, when the two friends stepped into the hallway, there was a pretty blonde waiting in uniform for Samuel.

“Sammy!” she smiled and waved.

“KC!” a smile splashed up on his face. “Hi!”

“Hi!”

“THIS ... is ... HER?!” Barry gasped, sounding slightly asthmatic.

“I missed talking to you,” she smiled shyly.

“I missed you too!” Samuel gushed.

“Good!” she giggled.

“THIS is HER?!”

“Watch the drool,” she warned Barry. “I have to cheer in this outfit later, and I don’t want to get it wet.”

“But ... THIS is HER?!”

“Could we talk alone a moment, Samuel?” she asked softly.

They both turned to look at Barry.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Scram. You wouldn’t have a sister or a friend that might be attracted to short guys, would you?”

“Sorry.” She waved bye-bye and Barry reluctantly backed up several paces.

“I was WONDERING if you could come over and HELP me study for algebra?” she asked, her eyes lit up with enthusiasm.

Sammy’s eyes dropped. “My, uhm ... mom wasn’t real hot on us dating,” he said quietly after a moment.

“Well, it’s not a date, silly!” She radiated enough enthusiasm to fill him with some too. “You’ll be helping me to study for exams. And there’s nothing more noble than that!”

“I ... uhm ....”

“Oh, pleeeeeease! Without you, I’ll fail, Samuel.”

“Do it, man!” Barry said from the side. “You gotta help her! It’s the right thing to do!”

KC gestured toward Barry with her shoulder and nodded her head, smiling: he speaks the truth.

“All ... right ....”

“Yes! Thank you!” She hopped, causing ripples to flow through parts of her body, delighting even Barry at several paces away. She pulled a pen out of her backpack, took Samuel’s hand and wrote her address in his palm. “There you go. I’ll see you then at 7:00. And thanks!”

She flounced away.

Barry came up to stand beside Samuel. “Man!” he sighed. “I GOTTA get me one like HER!”

* * *

Veronica’s desk phone rang and she answered, hoping it wasn’t Engel calling her in for a “date”.

It was Leticia. “Veronica? Ms Binhauzer would like to see you right away.”

“Tell her I’ll be right there, Leticia.”

Veronica pondered what it could be about as she took the elevator upstairs. There was no shortage of topics, from, “Word of my compromised free will SHALL never get out!” to “You MUST tell them what you’re planning, dear. Then we can have lesbian sex for their viewing—and humping—pleasure.”

She walked up the hall and stepped into the outer office where Leticia had her desk. The pretty blonde girl—22 or 23—looked up and smiled sunnily.

“Hi, Veronica! Ms Binhauzer is waiting for you right inside. Go right in.”

According to Engel, those pretty little lips and cheeks had just sucked him off this morning. Should she say anything? Would it lead to more info? “Engel said you blew him this morning,” she tried wording what she would say in her head, “Were you craving a good swig of jism, or were you just a dumbed-down whore at the time?”

Veronica decided against it. “Thanks, Leticia.”

“Uhm ...,” Veronica raised her eyebrows when she stepped in. Ms Binhauzer was in a candy pink satin and black lace corset, a light pink shoulder-length cape, a long wire-billowed half-skirt that covered her back half but left the front open to expose her legs and triangle of auburn fur. Her pretty coppery hair—on her head—was done in large ringlets, and she held a shepherd’s crook.

It was ... Little Bo Peep.

“I know. I look ridiculous. Engel made me dress like this, then left me sexed up. God, I’m hot!” She rubbed her crotch. “You wouldn’t be willing to lap a little puss, would you? There could be a raise in it for you. No? Well, I’ll masturbate myself while we talk, then.” She straddled the shepherd’s crook like you would a toy pony, then rubbed her pussy lips along its length, wetting the polished wood.

“To the point, Wilson. Word of my ... compromise ... and modification ... simply CANNOT get out. If it did, I would not retain a shred of respect from any employee of the company,” Little Bo Peep said as she ground her drooling pussy along the length of her staff. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Vividly, ma’am.”

“Jonathan Engel is an evil, twisted man that cunningly plots for nothing less than to break the will of every last female in this company for his own insidious lustful desires. He seeks to make every one of us cunts—” she halted and blinked as she realized her mistake “—I mean every one of OUR cunts throb and yearn for his long ... hard ... HOT ....” She plunged her finger rapidly in and out of her pussy several times, making wet little sucking sounds. “He wants us all to ... strip naked ... exposing our hot flesh ... baring out mewling cunts ... and get down on all fours like the rutting animals that we are ... pressing the sides of our faces to the floor in submission ... arching our asses up high in the air so that our musky scent catches on the wind ....”

“Oh!” she shivered and hopped to her desk, hitting a speed-dial button. “Jonny, are you alone?”

“Are ... any ... of us ever truly alone?” his voice toyed with her over the phone.

“Is anyone else in the office with you?!” she breathed heavily.

“Nah,” he chuckled. “I’m alone.”

“Oh, PLEASE come hammer my pussy, baby! I GOTTA get stuffed! Now! PLEASE?!”

“What are you, sugar-nipples?”

Binhauzer glanced at Veronica and chewed her lip a second, too ashamed to answer.

The line went dead. She hit redial immediately. “I’m your BITCH, baby!” tumbled out of her as soon as he answered. “You OWN me! This mewling cunt will do ANYTHING for her hard, hot cock-daddy!”

“Is your ass hiked up in the air for me, honey-cunt?”

Ms Binhauzer flounced around her desk, got down on her hands and knees awkwardly in her humiliating costume, contorted until she was able to bunch her skirt up around her waist, then called, slightly out of breath, “Bare and begging, baby!”

“You know, hot as you must look humiliating yourself in that stupid little costume, I’m saving my weener for another of my bitches this afternoon.” Veronica curdled with the last half of that statement.

“Oh, but Jonny, PLLEEEEEAAASSE!” She pressed her face harder to the carpet and arched her ass higher in the air as though she might tempt him over the phone by reinforcing her demeaning pose.

“No, snookums. I’m just going to have to catch you tomorrow.”

“Noooooooo,” she wailed. “Don’t leave me like this ALL NIGHT!”

“Hey, you can dream of cocks and lollipops tonight,” he chuckled. “Wilson? You there?”

She thought of not answering him while her boss’s boss writhed and whined pathetically on the floor. “Ehr, yes, sir?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “Leticia said the redheaded poodle was trying to reassert her authority over you. I’m gonna have to do something nice to reward little Tishie. Anyway, get your prissy heinie down here, Wilson. I’m feelin’ horny.”

DAMN that little secretary twat! “Ehr ... yes, sir.”

The line went dead.

“Please ... ?!” Binhauzer had rolled around awkwardly to half sit, half lean back, rubbing her hands over her thighs and crotch. “Please ... I can’t do it myself ... he won’t let me cum by myself ... he’s had me fixed so I can’t ... !”

“I’m sorry,” Veronica shook her head sadly but firmly. “If I did, he’d get pissed and make me dress and act just like you ....”

“Wait! I’ll ... give you ... $5000 ... right now ... if you just LAP me!”

“I am really sorry, Ms Binhauzer,” she said as she stepped to the door.

“$10,000! Just a couple tongue licks!” the woman called as Veronica stepped out.

Leticia was sitting at her desk, filing her nails.

“Bitch,” Veronica muttered as she walked by, the muffled sexually desperate wails still coming from Binhauzer’s office.

“You go spread for Daddy,” the blonde shot back, not looking up from her self-manicure.

Veronica walked up the hall and pressed the down button on the elevator. She really did not want to become like Binhauzer—a whoring parody of her former self. So what were her options? Could she break and run? Take Samuel and flee to Europe? Her eyes fluttered suddenly, and her pelvis began wriggling on its own. After a few moments, she shook her head to clear it and realized the elevator doors were open.

Stepping inside, slightly woozy, she returned to her train of thought. She could empty their bank accounts and be packed and on a plane tonight. All ... she’d have to .... “Uuuungh!” she moaned as she dropped to a sitting position, then leaned over. OhGOD! She rubbed the front of her skirt, grinding her crotch against her hand. Oh, this craving was worse than when she was dumbed down!

After a minute, the sexual need stopped suffocating her consciousness, and she stopped mindlessly grinding her hips against her hand. The elevator doors were open, but thank God none of her coworkers were standing there, gaping at the woman masturbating herself on the floor.

She quickly stood and smoothed the front of her skirt.

THAT was what Engel had meant about being a bad girl. If she even THOUGHT about going to the police ... she tried letting her mind very lightly broach that topic, and ... oh, YEAH! There were echoes of that horny desperation. She quickly moved her mind away from there. That explained that: if she were ever to succeed and make it to Europe, she would wind up in an asylum, diddling herself 24 by 7.

Humbled by the perils she faced if she fumbled in this dangerous game she was playing, she reconsidered: was escape from this worth the price that it could ultimately cost her?

Yes.

She had no doubt. They might turn her into a mindless whore, but she was that already anyway, spreading for them on command. She had been faced with a similar decision when she broke out of her marriage with Doug, and she would still stand by her decision on that now.

Even if he had somehow turned her into a whore in the last week.

She would free herself or else ....

She walked to Engel’s office. “Yes, sir?”

He looked at her and just stared a minute, fondling his position of power. “Tell ya what, Wilson. Shut the door first.”

Veronica did so.

“Tell ya what. You can be a mindless whore, begging me to stuff whatever hole I desire, or all of them if I want. Or ... you can come to me of your own free will.” He shrugged. “Maybe even retain a little dignity. Who knows?”

She had the micro cassette recorder in her jacket pocket, taping. The decision was easy: there’d be no steering the conversation as a mindless whore.

A soft smile flashed up on her face. “You know I used to think about you, don’t you? What you would be like ... as a lover, Jonny?” She took off her jacket, set it on the file cabinet, then walked toward him, swaying her hips. “I thought a lot about it after the divorce. I wondered ... if I could ... make you my man ....” She lightly kissed him, then traced her finger down the front of his shirt. “I wondered ... what big tiger ... you held in your pants ....” She sank to her knees, then pushed his thighs apart. “Wondered if I could ....”

“Y’know, fuck it. This is taking too long. Let’s just call this a mid-afternoon business date and say you’re the enthusiastic stripper at the club we’re holding it at.”

“Yeah, BABY!” Veronica sprang to her feet, held her hair out to the sides and let it fall back to her shoulders. Then she began unbuttoning her blouse, an excited light in her eyes.

“That’s better,” Engel nodded, smiling.

Forty-five minutes, one mouthload of jism and one buttload of cum later, Veronica waddled back out to her desk, her ass sore from her first remembered anal experience, though it had been pure squealing ecstasy at the time.

She gingerly eased herself into her chair, sitting on one hip.

Well, THAT side of the cassette wouldn’t have any useful words—just her begging and mewling and squealing in delight.

Not any shreds of dignity on that tape, either—she had sure begged him to bump her bumper.

She popped the cassette out and dropped it in her purse. She needed to get the keywords off the first side and get it erased—last thing she needed was for Sammy to stumble across it and hear his mother begging in ecstasy like that.

Leticia walked by then. “Comfy?” she smiled. “I heard you squealed like an impaled pig.” She stuck her index finger to the corner of her mouth, then bubbled. “Literally!”

How do you reply to that when it’s true?

“Toodles,” the blonde gave a little wave and walked off smugly.