The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Later, after she’d cleaned herself up and returned to her desk, Nicole began to fume over the whole episode. How dare that arrogant sonofabitch treat her like some whore when she needed his help? She’d show him ... she’d be damned if she’d show up at his door on command ...

You need his help, she answered herself, You need his help and you’ve already sucked his dick. You gonna do that and not get the payoff?

Maybe she would. Maybe she’d just let him have his cheap blowjob and finish the report herself.

You’re kind of a stupid slut, aren’t you?

Stop it. I’m not. I’m an honors graduate from Wharton Business School’s MBA program. I can handle writing a goddamned report by myself.

You can’t. You’ve been trying for days. You need his help.

You’re kind of a stupid slut.

Stop it!

By that time the voice she’d been hearing all day was growing louder and louder again, rolling back and forth in her head, while her own voice had begun to sound weak, desperate ... pleading. Her breath coming in short, ragged gasps, she shut down her computer, fleeing both the report and the office.

Later, in a small and very exclusive lingerie boutique uptown, she found a strapless, red half-cup bra that would expose her nipples and all of her upper breasts, its edges trimmed with black lace. She bought it and the matching g-string panties, a tiny scrap of material that would hide nothing at all when she wore them. The very thought of wearing them embarrassed her, but entering the store had quieted the voice in her head, and making the purchase had quieted it even further.

A slut’s body is her best asset.

When she got home and tried the new lingerie on, the first thing she saw was that her bush, neatly trimmed though it was, peeked out from under the tiny scrap of cloth that covered her crotch on all sides. So when she got in the shower, she shaved herself smooth. After all, a slut’s body was her best asset, and Nicole had to make sure hers was as attractive as possible, no matter what she was wearing.

She chose a stretchy, hip-hugging black miniskirt, a wine-colored silk blouse, and a pair of four-inch, spike-heeled sandals for her “appointment” with Evan. After all, it was important that her body be as attractive as possible for him. Before leaving her apartment, she threw on a short, burgundy leather jacket against the chill January air.

In the taxi on her way to his apartment, the silk blouse kept rubbing against her bared nipples. By the time she arrived, they were stiff and clearly visible through the top’s thin, clingy material.

At five minutes to seven, the concierge in the lobby of Evan’s building announced her before allowing her past his desk to wait for the elevator, smirking as he ogled her breasts. She didn’t think to close her jacket, for some reason. It was just seven when she rang his bell, her heart hammering, terrified of being late and wondering why.

What you have to learn is obedience.

His door opened onto a large, softly-lit living room that looked out onto the river. Tiny lights twinkled on the opposite shore, but Nicole barely noticed before his gaze caught hers. She found herself looking deep into his ice-blue eyes for a long moment before, blushing, she dropped her eyes and walked timidly past him, placing the briefcase holding her laptop and her clutch on the glass coffee table.

He closed the door behind her. “Where do you think you’re going?” he demanded, “Get your ass back over here and let me get a look at you.”

Nicole flashed an angry look at him, but once again couldn’t bring herself to hold his gaze. As she dropped her eyes, she noticed what he was wearing ... jeans and a beat-up black tee. It seemed especially insulting after the way she’d gone out and bought lingerie specially for him. But she walked slowly back across his shadowy living room to stand in front of him, eyes anywhere but on his face.

“Jacket,” he ordered, holding out his hand. When she’d removed it and given it to him, he turned to hang it in his entryway closet. Then he turned back to her, his eyes roaming hungrily over her body. Nicole, her eyes still downcast, could actually feel his eyes on her. She had never felt so helpless ... and her body, suddenly, began to react to it. She blushed deeply as she felt her belly tighten and her sex begin to moisten.

He was in front of her again. With her lowered eyes, Nicole saw his erection behind the casual jeans he wore. He reached out and took her still-erect nipples in his fingers. “You look like a whore,” he growled, squeezing, “But that’s only appropriate, isn’t it?”

“St—stop it,” Nicole stammered.

Evan squeezed her nipples until he was pinching her. “Why?” he asked, chuckling, “You’re here to fuck, aren’t you? I’m paying you, aren’t I? Isn’t that the very definition of a whore?”

“Y—yes,” she whispered. The way he was pinching her reminded her ... as if she needed reminding ... of the dream she’d had the night before. Thinking about that dream, she found herself growing excited despite the nasty things he was saying to her.

He pushed against her breasts, shoving her away from him. She stumbled backward, nearly tripping on her spike heels, needing to take several extra steps to regain her balance.

“Good,” he said, “Now get those clothes off.”

“I—I thought we were here to work on—“

“Try not to spoil the mood by opening your mouth,” he interrupted, “Thinking obviously isn’t your strong suit, so shut up and get naked. I want a good look at what I’m buying.”

You’re kind of a stupid slut, aren’t you?

His words, so close to what the man in her dream of the night before had told her, brought her mind right back to that dream. She could practically feel the straps around her legs, the rough fibers of the ropes that held her down. Though she remained in Chasseur’s elegant apartment, she felt the darkness from the dream pressing in on her mind.

She also felt her nipples grow even stiffer, the tightening, fluttering feeling in her belly, and the almost-ache of the excitement, the need between her legs.

Hands trembling, she first unbuttoned the cuffs of her blouse, and then went to work on opening the front. She hesitated just a moment before opening it, but knew that she had essentially no choice. This time, the thought was somehow ... comforting. She shrugged the wine-colored silk from her shoulders and let it drop to the floor before looking up at him.

He was smiling at her. The smile was predatory, and it frightened her. But she discovered that now that she wasn’t flashing hateful looks at him, now that she was doing as she was told ...

What you need to learn is obedience.

... she could look him in the eye without quailing. The discovery heartened her, almost freeing her from the fright that his predatory smile had caused. Then he approached her, and she found herself wanting to cringe again. She didn’t, but the desire to retreat before him stayed with her, almost uncontrollable, as he reached for her.

He took her nipples in his hands, pulling at them, lifting her breasts out of the brassiere, twisting and pinching them, hurting her. The pain brought the dream back to her again.

Nicole had never thought that being treated so ... so shabbily could possibly make her feel anything but murderous rage. But it seemed that every sleazy name Evan called her, every humiliating thing he forced her to do reminded her of that dream, the dream that had been wandering loose in her head ever since she’d had it.

And the dream, the feeling of being bound and helpless within it, only made her wetter and wetter, made her pussy throb.

“Turn around,” he ordered, “and then slide that little skirt right down to your ankles. Don’t bend your knees.”

She turned and did as he’d told her, face burning with shame at both the way she was displaying herself and the way she was almost automatically obeying his orders.

Obedience ...

She nearly gasped when she felt his hands on her hips. He grabbed her backside, squeezing it with his fingers, almost pinching. “Very nice,” he commented. Then he pulled the g-string aside and, pressing his thumb against her sphincter muscle, forced two fingers into her pussy.

Not that he needed to do much forcing. She was sopping wet. He chuckled as, almost unconsciously, she pressed back against his fingers and thumb, clenching her vaginal muscles around his fingers. He slapped her ass playfully with his other hand.

“So you’re a slut as well as a whore, eh?” he chuckled at her, “Again, very nice. Stand up.”

He unhooked her new bra as she did so, letting it drop to the floor, then reached around and began groping her breasts from behind. He was not gentle, pulling her to him, squeezing and pinching her. She could feel his erection pressed against her ass, feel the warmth of his skin against her back. And suddenly she could feel herself, almost as if she was watching somebody else act from within her own body, pressing herself backwards, stroking his erection with her ass, reaching behind to pull his neck to her shoulder.

He’s taken control, she thought, just like the guy in my dream ...

At that moment, he grabbed her by the hair and, bending her over at the waist, began dragging her across his apartment. Bent over, her head even with his crotch, Nicole tried to follow, but her heels and unfamiliarity with his apartment combined to trip her up, and she fell, landing heavily on her left hip. Evan, however, never even slowed. One good, hard yank on her hair convinced Nicole to scramble to her feet, and they made it ... somewhere, she couldn’t really tell where, her vision being limited to the carpet across she was being dragged ... without serious injury.

When they reached their destination, Evan lifted her head a bit, then threw her across a hard, flat surface. Table, she thought, Dining room. She didn’t understand why figuring out where they were pleased her so much, but for some reason it did. At the time, she simply accepted it. He held her by the back of the neck, pressing her face into the tabletop. Then he unzipped himself, pulled her thong aside once again, and plunged into her.

He fucked her brutally, pounding her cervix, hurting her despite how well-lubricated she was. The pain only made her hungrier for him. She didn’t understand it ... she’d never felt the slightest attraction for him before, had never had the slightest desire to be used this way. She didn’t wonder about it for long, though. Instead, she was caught up in the sensations, the pain and the pleasure of his brutal treatment, and the hunger for more.

He’s in control, the only part of her still capable of rational thought said.

Oh, fuck me, yes ...

You’re kind of a stupid slut, aren’t you?

Yuh—yes. Jesus, yes ...

What you have to learn is obedience.

Yes! Yes! Yeeeeeesssssssssss ...

She realized that she was fairly screaming, “Yes,” while he fucked her. She couldn’t seem to stop herself until his hand left her neck and covered her mouth, and even that only muffled her voice; it didn’t stop her shouting, in response to both his thrusts and the strange litany of the continued droning of the almost-recognized voice from her dream.

She came just before he did.

Actually, she started to come just before he did. She continued, on and on into the most intense orgasm she’d ever had. It continued until she was exhausted, lying in a puddle of her own sweat on his dining room table, and he, having stayed inside her when he was done, was half-hard again from the spasming of her pussy.

He pulled out of her with a quiet grunt, leaving her lying against the tabletop. Then she heard his voice from out in the living area where he’d had her strip.

“Get out here and clean your stink off my cock.”

He was sitting on the couch. She knelt between his legs, and tasted herself on him. The taste stayed with her for a long time.

He fucked her twice more before letting her go home, once over the back of the couch and once on the living room rug, from behind each time, holding her face down each time. It made her feel like a thing, more a convenient orifice than a person. She came on each occasion, though never as hard as the first.

In between, he examined her report and made suggestions. For example, he pointed out that the upcoming contract for Andersen to build a foursome of destroyers for the Navy could probably be dropped from the report. Everybody knew about it, he explained, and it would simplify the math. Something about his reasoning seemed a bit ... off ... but Nicole decided to try it and see if it made the project any simpler for her.

You’re kind of a stupid slut, the voice in her head said. Nicole found herself nodding in agreement without even thinking about it.

As she prepared to leave at evening’s end, finally replacing her clothing and pulling out her cell to call a cab, Evan walked up behind her and grabbed her breasts again, squeezing them lightly.

“Don’t bother with underwear tomorrow,” he told her, “in case I want a quickie during the day some time.”

Nicole found herself blushing furiously, but couldn’t help but answer, “Yes ... sir.”

After all, he was in charge.

It was nearly two in the morning when she finally reached her own condo, and she immediately fell into a deep and exhausted sleep.