The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Claire Russet bid a polite thank you to the waiter as he cleared her table. He acknowledged it with a smile that came with years of casual acquaintance as this was Claire’s regular lunch venue. She always ate alone, not uncommon in the busy city but Ralph thought it was a great shame. Claire was, by all standards, an attractive woman, nothing flashy but a decent sense of style. Today she had been even more subdued than normal and had the cafe not been so busy Ralph would have taken the time to chat with her.

Had he done so, he would have discovered that while Claire was currently an Executive Assistant she was going up the ladder quickly. As she was making an important presentation later in the day she was in her corporate best, a fitted jacket over a plain blouse, a pencil skirt that came to just below her knees and her shoes even had a slight heel to them. It all said competent and aggressive without apologising for being a woman. It wasn’t comfortable, but that really wasn’t the point.

Getting up from the table as gracefully as she could manage in the tight skirt, Claire tried not to show how nervous she felt. The presentation could make the difference between promotion and being moved sideways to another section. She gathered up her purse, pulled down her skirt where it had bunched up from sitting and set of towards the office with a purposeful stride..

Rounding a corner she crashed straight in to a warm, soft object that rattled and clinked and swore. Claire was even more startled when she saw what it was she had collided with. The girl was in her late teens or early twenties with blue hair, ranks of rings through her ears, lips and various other locations on her body and dressed in a ragged t-shirt, leather mini, torn fishnets and stiletto heeled ankle boots. Claire couldn’t keep the look of disgust from her face.

“Fuck you, Grandma!” the girl, Sulla to her friends, spat at Claire in response.

That stopped the instinctive apology that was forming on Claire’s lips and she tried to just walk on but the girl’s hand shot out and clamped on to her shoulder. The girl clearly intended to make an issue of it, to vent her anger but instead both of them felt a strange sensation wash over them, the very last emotion either of them would have expected to feel in the circumstances. It was arousal!

Stunned, Sulla released her grip and equally bewildered, Claire quickly hurried on her way. Sulla, however, felt she still had to do something to shock the conservative older woman. Going over to where the rest of her gang were lounging, barely aware of the collision in their languor, she wrapped herself around Karl. One hand went to squeeze the dirty crotch of his jeans, the other squeezed her own breast as she stuck her tongue deep into his mouth. Karl responded lazily, he really didn’t care who it was as long as he got his rocks off occasionally.

Looking around, Sulla was satisfied to see the shocked/repulsed expression on Claire’s face, yet at the same time she was feeling something deep inside that had nothing to do with Karl. She watched as the woman who had run in to her hurried away, and for no good reason she decided to follow. With her years on the street it was easy for her to shadow Claire without being spotted.

Three blocks on and Claire felt safe enough to slow down to a quick walk. The encounter had unnerved her far more than she wanted to admit, and she tried to tell herself that it was fear that was causing her to feel so flushed. The girl had certainly looked dangerous, the type of street trash who were strung out on drugs and as likely as not to stick a knife in you for no reason. Yet there was something compelling about the girl, something that was definitely lacking in the rest of her associates on the street corner.

Then something caught her attention in the window of an antique store she was passing. At first she didn’t know what it was, just something caused her to stop in her tracks. Distracted she scanned through the ugly vases and chipped plates until she spotted it. There on a red velvet cushion, nestled amongst a clutter of other jewellery that held no interest to her, was a gold necklace with a single large red jewel.

Glad to have something to take her mind of the previous incident, Claire went in to the shop and called for the proprietor. From somewhere out back an elderly woman made her way through the clutter of furniture, her frail shoulders draped with a crocheted shawl but there was vigour in her movements and life in her eyes as she regarded Claire.

“Can I help you, miss?”

“That necklace,” Claire stated, pointing out the item she was interested in, “I would like to have a better look at it.”

“Of course,” the old woman replied, and reached in to her window display to retrieve it.

Claire was slightly surprised to find that the jewellery was more of a choker than a necklace, the gold links formed a short wide band rather than a length as she had first expected. It didn’t matter, she was totally taken with it now and held it up to her throat to admire her reflection in a nearby mirror. It just seemed too perfect.

“How much?” she asked, knowing she would buy it regardless of the price.

“Twelve hundred and sixty,” the old woman replied in her strong, clear voice. Claire nodded, gave the choker back to the proprietress so that she could wrap it and pulled out her credit card.

“I’m sorry miss, I can’t do cards.”

“A personal cheque then?” Claire offered. Normally she wouldn’t use her savings account, but there was no way that she was going to leave the store without the choker.

“Perfectly acceptable,” the old woman smiled.

Sulla had watched her quarry go in to the junk shop and had stationed herself across the street partially concealed by the trash cans. She watched the woman try on a necklace from the window display and had to admit it looked really good on her, really chic. Then the women had disappeared further back into the store. A few minutes later and the quarry left.

Tossing up whether or not to continue following her, Sulla in the end decided she was more interested in the shop. Crossing the street she was surprised to see the necklace was still in the window. For some reason she had really expected the woman to have bought it. Going in to the store she went straight to the display and fished the choker out. She had already put it on and was sizing herself up in the mirror when the old woman came out to meet her latest customer.

“A lovely piece, is it not?” the old woman suggested.

“Yeah,” Sulla grunted in reply. She really couldn’t understand why the other woman hadn’t bought it, it was totally spectacular. “How much?”

“Twelve dollars sixty.”

“Yeah, okay.” Sulla fished around in her pockets and managed to come up with the required amount in a mixture of coins and crumpled notes. The old woman didn’t bat an eye as she accepted the cash and Sulla headed back out on to the street proudly wearing her choker, the red gem neatly settled over her throat.

Claire didn’t feel at all guilty or silly for buying the choker. It had taken her mind off an unpleasant incident and she wasn’t against jewellery, just the gaudy stuff that cheapened a woman’s appearance. But now she had to get back to the office. She wanted an opportunity to freshen up before her presentation and she might have to make a few adjustments to her makeup and hair to go with her new purchase.

Setting herself up in the washroom, she checked that her clothes hadn’t picked up any dust or stains from her encounter. No runs in her pantyhose, no scuffs on her shoes, skirt straight, jacket even, teeth clean. The check list completed, Claire reached in to her bag and pulled out the necklace. Her hair was already up so it was easy to slide the ends of the choker around her neck and the clasp was simple yet strong. Taking a step back Claire admired herself in the mirror, her purchase really did add something to her appearance, something attractive yet strong. She felt confident.

In fact so confident that the usual pre-meeting jitters were absent. She knew she was going to impress them, and that gave her an inner warmth, strangely reminiscent of ... of the feeling she had when she thought of the girl she had collided with. Banishing the image of the girl, Claire got back to her own reflection. Almost perfect, but not quite. She angled herself side on, adjusted the cuffs of her jacket, smoothed her skirt. What was it?

The necklace! It wasn’t bold enough. The white of her blouse was dulling the effect of the beautiful gold links. Did she dare, she wondered, and then acted. Taking off her jacket she unbuttoned her blouse and slipped it off, then put her jacket back on and buttoned it up. Looking at herself she liked what she saw, a respectable bust, a bit of cleavage and her smooth skin really set off the gold and red of the choker. Her lips would need a bit of reddening, and perhaps a touch of eye shadow to co-ordinate, but she was looking hot.

Her watch beeped. That was her warning that she had ten minutes until her presentation. Opening up her make-up case she chose her darkest red lipstick and a deep blue eyeshadow, she would have just enough time to redo her make-up.

Sulla had gone back to the rest of her gang to show off her find, but they couldn’t care less. Totally self absorbed in their own malaise of hating the world, and in several cases stoned out of their minds on whatever drugs they had managed to pick up that day, they barely registered her presence. She was particularly pissed with Karl’s lack of interest as she was feeling horny at the moment and really felt like a good fuck to get off on.

But that wasn’t going to happen with any of them, Sulla decided, and set off on her own. She shared a nearby apartment with a couple of other women, one a stripper, the other a receptionist. Not quite friends but they got on well enough and needed each other to make the rent. It was untidy as always, Hannah and Grace worked long hours and Sulla could never be bothered. Sulla grabbed a beer from the fridge and went to her room where she flipped on her stereo and undressed to the pounding of her music with alternate swigs of her drink.

Naked, except for the choker, she rubbed her hands over her lithe body. She was pretty fit for someone who didn’t bother to exercise, but then again she didn’t bother with food much either and had an active life on the streets. She let her fingers trace over the coiled dragon tattoo on her stomach, fiddled with the rings through her rock hard nipples, ran her tongue over the stud in her lower lip. She was so horny, so aroused, she couldn’t keep it up any longer, she had to get off before she drove herself crazy. Falling back onto her unmade bed she thrust her fingers into her moist slit.

An image came to her mind, the woman who had run in to her, the one she had followed. It didn’t bother Sulla that she was masturbating to thoughts of a woman, she didn’t care where she got her pleasure from and had fucked with more than a few women. It was all sex, and it all worked towards getting off. Thinking of such a prim and staid woman fingering her, playing with her nipples, kissing her ... Sulla came hard, again and again.

If she had been honest with herself, Claire would have realised what she was feeling was arousal. Instead she told herself that it was her inner confidence as she made her presentation in a room occupied by a half dozen senior executives. Most knew her, and were startled by her appearance. She had a commanding appearance, dominant even and their eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to her ruby-stoned choker and then depending on tastes, to her full red lips or her cleavage.

Her poise impressed them too, rarely had they seen someone who was so in control, so at ease in what should have been so intimidating. The six men weren’t even sure what she was talking about, they had lost track early in the piece, so when Claire finished there were only a few general questions and some surprisingly generous praise before the meeting adjourned. Claire felt good and had every reason to, she had truly ‘wowed’ them.

Heading back to her office she continued to deny the true nature of the sensations that tingled pleasantly within her. Doing her routine work for the rest of the day was a real struggle and uncharacteristically she was first out of the office that day. She felt she deserved a treat for doing so well at the presentation and headed in to the city centre.

Initially she just intended to pick up some dinner at the delicatessen and perhaps look at a few blouses and perhaps a skirt. Then passing a body image shop she was hit by a sudden fancy—why not a new set of earrings, perhaps something with a red stone to go with her choker? Going in she was immediately met by a punkish girl with short, spiked orange hair and more studs and rings in her ears than Claire thought humanly possible. Yet Claire took it all in her stride, it was the girl’s choice and as good an advertisement for where she worked as a good suit in a fashion store.

“Do you perhaps have earrings to match this?” Claire said very formally, indicating the choker with her hand.

“Wow, that is cool!” the girl said as she took a closer look. Claire didn’t object even when the girl felt the texture of the chain and moved her head in very close to inspect the red gem. “That is so neat!”

“Thank you,” Claire replied, feeling quite pleased with herself. Her arousal took another step up but she passed it off as a natural reaction to the compliment.

“I see two possibilities,” the salesgirl said as she lead Claire over to the display counter. “A pair of ruby studs similar to what you’re already wearing, or a pair of danglers. There’s a pair here with gold filigree and a larger semi-precious gem.”

“I’ll take both,” Claire said impulsively, she wouldn’t normally wear much beyond studs or a small gold ring but the larger earrings just seemed so right to go with the choker. Then surprising herself as much as the salesgirl she added, “Could you do another set of piercings so that I can wear both at the same time.”

Bemused, the girl agreed and ten minutes later Claire left the shop with a strange sense of satisfaction in the unaccustomed weight hanging from her ear lobes. The excitement of doing something a little daring pushed her on, and before she knew it she had replaced her pantyhose with a garter belt and stockings, bought several sexy items of lingerie and just stopped herself from buying a matched leather fashion jacket and skirt. She consoled herself by promising it to herself as a gift when she got the promotion.

It was a long shower for Sulla, unlike her usual splash and dash, but she was sticky and sweaty. She even scrubbed the gel out of her hair. As she towelled herself dry she reflected back on her fantasy and giggled. Almost better than sex, she thought, better than any of the guys she had been with recently. Really kinky. She’d love to tell the woman about it, in graphic detail, just to see her reaction.

But that was a fantasy for later, she had more mundane things to do now. Like brush her hair and wonder if she should let it grow out a bit. And check that none of her piercings had come loose in the shower. That done she started to get dressed, the first item was the choker off course and after that the crumpled clothes on the floor didn’t seem good enough, so she casually strode naked back through the lounge to her bedroom.

So what to wear now, she wondered. Clean panties, the french-cut silk ones with the little roses that she had bought because they were so quaint. And the matching bra, the soft cups let her breasts sway a bit when she walked, and did nothing to hide her nipple rings. And perhaps a good pair of tights rather than her usual stylishly laddered ones.

No, she thought, that didn’t work, not over the these panties and she couldn’t be bothered taking them off. So it was bare legs, but with a pair of ankle socks since she already knew which shoes she would be wearing and they tended to chaff a bit. She rummaged through the rest of her clothes, stuffed into drawers, boxes or the bottom of her closet and came to the conclusion that shoes were the only thing she was certain of.

Then she saw her one good outfit that was actually hung up in the closet, what she wore when she had to make one of her infrequent trips to the welfare office. She definitely felt like something a bit different today, and that was about as different as she had. So moments later she stepped out of her bedroom in her grey calf length skirt, blouse and dark half length jacket, the blouse buttoned to just above the line of her bra to make the necklace as prominent as possible. And she felt positively tingly dressed like this, pretending to be prim and proper like her fantasy lover, if you overlooked the blue hair and stud in her lip.

Grabbing her rarely used handbag she was just heading as her flatmate Grace arrived home from work.

“You’re dressed up, its a nice look too,” Grace commented, “Something special?”

“Thanks,” Sulla responded happily to the compliment, and found herself quite enjoying Grace’s attention. In fact if Grace wasn’t quite so straight laced she would be tempted to seduce her there and then, because Sulla certainly felt like getting off again, especially with someone else besides her fingers. But it wouldn’t happen. “Just thought I’d do something a bit different, can’t be an anarchist if you don’t keep changing. “So what do you think of my necklace?”

“Its gorgeous!” Grace enthused. “I love it. You’ll have to let me borrow it sometime.”

“If I ever take it off,” Sulla laughed. “But maybe. Tell Hannah I won’t be in for dinner.”

“You’re never in for dinner,” Grace retorted to Sulla who was already half way down the hall, “So why start letting us know now?”

Claire watched as the girl’s deft tongue made circles around her stomach, the light glinting off her multitude of earrings, the stud in her lower lip a point of coldness as it grazed her skin. Claire’s own hands were on her breasts, teasing her pointy, dimpled nipples, stimulating herself even as her punkish lover added to the pleasure. The girl slid further down, away, to position her face between Claire’s outstretched legs. The tongue so close, fingers working their way between her nether lips, her own hands going down there as she couldn’t wait any longer...

The climax awoke Claire with a start, causing her to throw up the sheets as her whole body writhed and twisted. The realisation of what had just happened struck Claire—she had had a wet dream. That had never happened to her before, she didn’t even know if women could have them. But she had just cum in her sleep, and in response to thoughts of a lesbian tryst with the gang girl she had bumped into the previous day. She wanted to feel horrified, but she wasn’t and that made it even worse.

Trembling Claire hurried to the bathroom, throwing off her night shirt which had become a twisted knot around her hips. In the shower she tried to wash away the images but they were as strong as ever and the cool water was just serving to stimulate her further. Any less control and she probably would have masturbated in the shower.

Forcing herself to think about anything else, she began to slowly and carefully towel herself dry. Because of her unexpected dream she was up an hour earlier than she needed so she had plenty of time. Then an image from the dream flashed back into her mind—the girl had been wearing her necklace! Irrationally Claire rushed back to her room and sighed with relief when she saw that the choker was where she had left it last night. Making sure her neck and shoulders were dry, she carefully fastened the choker around her neck as though she feared she might lose it, and went back to drying herself.

Feeling more comfortable she turned her attention to what she would wear that day. Normally she didn’t let petty things like this use up her time, she had her wardrobe organised around four standard suits for work, two dresses for formal occasions and some semi-casual clothes for the weekends. But as her experience yesterday had taught her, not everything went with her new jewellery. So an extensive search of her closet and drawers began and as she began sorting her clothes into three piles, Claire thought of the girl again.

Claire had to admit a grudging respect for the girl, and perhaps that was why she had had her dream. The girl might have been scruffy and outlandish to her way of life, but Claire did recognise something she had in common with the girl—a desire to stand out and be identified with who she was rather than being ‘just a woman’. She was willing to take a stand and to be seen, and Claire felt she had to respect the girl for that. And that respect, Claire justified to herself, was why she felt so warm and happy when she thought of the girl.

Reaching the bottom of the last drawer Claire turned to face her bed where the three piles had grown to respectable sizes. The left most pile was her older stuff, and she noted most of her semi-casuals. That was all going to the local op shop. The middle pile was her work clothes, at least the most appropriate of it. Her slacks and most of her blouses had gone into the left pile. And finally the right pile, her other wear and she was disappointed to see how small that pile was. Did she really have so few items of decent clothing?

Well it gave her something to do after work and on the weekend she decided as she casually filled three garbage bags with the left pile. Realising she was still naked she set about choosing what she would be wearing that day, and almost felt like she was going to have to settle for less than best when a novel idea struck her. Why limit herself to tradition?

Black satin panties, strapless pushup bra, garterbelt and stockings, all new from yesterday’s shopping. And then the daring touch—her low cut black evening dress that she had only worn once before. It still clung nicely to her curves, with a slit skirt that didn’t quite go to her knees giving daring glimpses of her legs and occasionally her stocking tops. Of course on its own it wasn’t suitable for the office, but topped off with her dark tailored jacket, complete with shoulder pads and satin lapels and it was chic yet stated confidence. And she loved the way it all drew attention to the choker.

With half an hour to go she started in to her make-up and hair, and of course her paired earrings. She even briefly toyed with having both danglers in one ear and both studs in the other, but decided against it at the last moment as everything else was so symmetrical. She left for work with far more make-up than normal, and with her normally tightly restrained hair showing considerable freedom and even a touch of carefully managed disorder.