The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Dressed up, Sulla wasn’t sure what to do with herself next. Her old gang didn’t interest her any more, she wanted to be doing something, preferably something that stirred up the establishment. A thought struck her, she had heard about a job going as a exec-assistant for a nearby office—couldn’t remember where she’d picked that up from, didn’t matter—and she was sure she could ace it. With that in mind she set off into town and made her way straight to the HR section of the company without a single wrong turn, bypassing both reception and security.

John Harris wouldn’t normally have considered an applicant without a resume or appointment but the standard of the applicants so far hadn’t been too good and the woman before him struck him as both professional and competent, apart from the blue hair and the stud in her lower lip that was. But he could overlook that as she flew through the aptitude test and knew so much about both the job and the company that he didn’t even bother to ask for references. With the head office pressuring him to fill the position John decided to do just that.

After the handshake Sulla was nearly beside herself although she managed to maintain her calm exterior. She couldn’t believe how easy that had been, all that useless information she must have stored up over the years. It really felt like she had already been doing the job for years, in fact the entire place felt familiar. She walked side by side with John as he took her up to the office to present her to the rest of her department. Sulla was introduced to Rachel, Harram, Michael, George, Howard, the other Michael, Tracy and it was like she already knew them all.

John continued to be impressed, Sulla had already established a rapport with her co-workers and knew where each of them worked. He was almost certain that she must have worked with the company before, although he was equally sure that he would have remembered her. He would have to look it up in his records later. That left just one person to introduce her to, the newly promoted Claire Russet whose old job she was taking over.

Knocking gently on the office door, John waited for acknowledgment and then opened the door. “Claire,” he said as he stepped in and to one side to allow Sulla to enter, “this is the new executive assistant for your department. Sulla Monroe, this is Claire Russet the senior officer.”

As one Sulla and Claire gasped in surprise. A stunned silence overtook the room and it was left to John to break it. “I take it you know each other?” he asked. It would make sense, he thought, if Sulla had worked there before. Then he had a moment of dread as it occurred to him that they might hate each other and that was the reason Sulla had left.

Claire actually recovered first, “We’ve met,” she said cryptically and added to John’s confusion. “Um, thank you John, you can leave Sulla with me.”

“Are you sure, you look a little ...”

“Go away John. I’ll handle it from here!”

John nodded and retreated as fast as he could without looking like he was actually running away. Claire had never behaved like that before and he feared that his earlier supposition might be right, in which case he was in for a lot of stick from the higher ups for employing this Sulla. He would have been shocked if he had known the real reason for Claire’s rudeness.

Back in the office Claire was fighting the last emotion she had expected, arousal. On recognising the girl she had bumped into on the street she had thought she would have felt fear or perhaps anger, but what she wanted more than anything else was to touch her, to kiss and tease her ... visions of her wet dream filled her mind.

At the same time Sulla was just as confused, at one level she couldn’t believe the coincidence, at another she just wanted this woman, to be with her and to make love to her. Such was the intensity of both women’s emotions that neither could move for several long minutes until Claire regained enough control to break the deadlock.

“I think ...” she began and had to stop to moisten her mouth which had gone horribly dry, “I think we should step out of ... leave the office. Get lunch somewhere.”

Sulla nodded in agreement, much as she liked to not live by the rules of decent society it didn’t strike her as wise to jump her new boss in front of everyone. Both Sulla and Claire were distinctly aware of how flushed they were as they walked quickly through the office, being very careful not to brush against each other. They gave the briefest of answers to the confused staff and were gone. Claire took Sulla to the cafe where she normally had lunch and the pair sat very deliberately at opposite sides of the table from each other. It was then that they noticed for the first time that they were both wearing identical necklaces.

As one they both instinctively reached for their throats to check that they were still wearing their necklaces and then both uttered a surprised “Oh wow!” A moment of silence followed and then both giggled as the tension was broken.

“Looks like we have something in common ...” Claire began.

“in the way of jewellery.” Sulla cut in smoothly, “Wonder how many of these that old lady ...”

“sells each day.” Claire finished for her. “I like your new look, by the way.”

“And yours,” Sulla replied with a smile.

At that moment the waiter arrived at their table, Ralph was well known to Claire from her frequent patronage but he caught her totally off guard with his first comment.

“Claire, you must introduce me to your lovely sister.”

“But she’s not my sister,” Claire reacted in surprise, made even more intense by the emotions she held towards Sulla.

“Sorry, you look so alike that I thought ...” Ralph feared he had made a faux pas and began to fish around for a way out. Fortunately for him Sulla was so amused that she burst out laughing and took all attention away from the embarrassed waiter.

“Ralph,” Claire said as Sulla’s laughing died down, “I’ll have a crab salad and a chocolate milkshake.”

“And I’ll have a ham roll with a cup of tea.” Sulla added.

“At once,” Ralph responded, glad of the chance to slip away and he was gone. That left Claire to ponder a new mystery.

“Why on earth did I order that?” she asked of no-one in particular.

“It’s my favourite,” Sulla said, her usual confidence shaken. “And I don’t eat red meat, so the ham roll ...?”

“Mine,” Claire admitted. “This is so strange.”

“It has to be the necklaces,” Sulla said as she fingered hers, “Somehow they’re letting us read each others minds.”

“That’s impossible,” Claire countered, not because she didn’t believe Sulla, but because she didn’t want to.

“Kinley account, access number 14-302-192, password for the spreadsheet is ... moltxp ...” Sulla said with a look of intense concentration although that was mainly an act as the information came to her mind easily. Claire paled.

“How could you know that?”

“Given you my idea, got a better one?” Sulla challenged her.

Claire didn’t and she felt very uncomfortable and exposed. Ralph came back with their orders and Claire came to a quick decision. “Make those to go, Ralph,” she instructed and gathering up her handbag got to her feet. Sulla followed suit and collected the now wrapped lunches from Ralph as Claire paid for them. Out on the street they both started walking in the same direction and before they had time to think about it, they were outside Sulla’s apartment.

“Why have we come here?” Claire asked as it suddenly occurred to her.

“My place was closer than yours,” Sulla replied.

“How do you know that?” Claire shot back, and in reply Sulla just gave her a smug grin. Then she grimaced as she fished through her handbag for her keys and couldn’t find them.

“Looks like I’ll have to pick the lock. Got a hair pin or ..?” Sulla stopped in surprise. Claire had already retrieved a hair clip from her bag and was working on the lock. Seconds later it clicked and the door swung open.

“How ...” Claire stared at the now open door, “How did I know how to do that?”

“We’re linked, I told you so,” Sulla said happily as she gently pushed Claire forward into the lounge of her apartment. “I know what you know, you can do what I can do. Just total empathy. Bet I know how to play bridge now.”

“But I don’t know how to play bridge,” Claire countered without thinking, and then winced when she realised she had just admitted that she agreed with Sulla’s theory.

“Don’t worry about it, its not weird bad, its weird good. Think of all the things we can do now, twice as much knowledge, twice as much experience. But that’s not why we’re here is it? I’m horny. You’re horny.” Sulla stated as she closed the door. “And if we don’t do something about getting off soon we’ll both go nuts. This is my room through here ...”

“Wait!” Claire cried out. “You can’t mean ... that you want to ... we don’t know each other ... we’re both women for god’s sake!”

“I do mean,” Sulla replied with a sultry pout, “And we know each other real well. And I’m the one person you can’t lie to. I know you’ve been fantasising about me, about us, getting hot and personal.” Sulla peeled off her jacket and moved in to help Claire out of hers.

“No!” Claire shouted, backing off. Sulla wasn’t put out, she continued to advance, unzipping her dress, she wanted Claire so much, she knew Claire wanted her. Sulla had felt this sort of lust before but Claire obviously hadn’t. Sulla didn’t mind, she just made the feelings more intense, projected them at Claire and suddenly Claire was overwhelmed.

Gone was her proper upbringing, she needed Sulla in the most physical of ways, to find relief from the sexual tension that had been steadily building since the office. Sulla was now the only object in the room, the centre of Claire’s attention and she could think of nothing else except making love to the blue haired vixen before her. Making it to Sulla’s bed was now out of the question, their clothes were shed and the lovemaking was a frenetic tryst of enamoured bodies on the lounge floor.

Claire didn’t know how often she came, didn’t care. It was too wonderful to believe, both on a physical and emotional level, she knew how to pleasure Sulla and in turn every moment of pleasure was returned to her a hundred fold. It was sheer exhaustion that stopped them, left them tenderly wrapped in each others arms, their naked bodies glistening with sweat. And Claire knew, as much as Sulla did, that she could never love anyone more, and would never need to.

Hannah came home to find two naked women cuddling in the main room of her apartment, the musky scent in the air and the general disarray of furniture and clothes left no doubt as to what had just been happening. Not much shocked Hannah, working as a stripper she got to see most things but even she was taken aback by the scene.

“Oh hi Hannah,” Sulla said casually. “Sorry about the mess. We’ll tidy up in a moment.” Strangely Sulla found herself more worried about their scattered clothes than being caught naked with another woman. Then beside her she felt Claire tensing up and realised that her lover would be horrified being caught like this. Maybe she could make Claire feel a bit more comfortable if she knew Hannah better.

It seemed to work as Claire relaxed again and getting to her feet held out her hand for Hannah to shake. “Hi, I’m Claire Russet,” she said almost casually, then flashed an angry look at Sulla as she realised what was happening. Hannah was distracted by other things though as she shook hands.

“You have a necklace just like Sulla’s.”

“Why yes, pure coincidence.” Claire commented and at the same time she enacted some revenge on Sulla by filling her with an irresistible urge to pick up all their clothes and take them through to her bedroom. “Nice to have met you, Hannah, but we need to get dressed and back to work.

“My place,” Claire stated as she and Sulla left the office that evening. “I don’t have any flatmates to worry about.”

Sulla giggled and tried to slip her arm around Claire’s waist as they walked down the street. She didn’t take the rebuff seriously as Claire pushed her away. “Can’t wait for another fuck, huh?”

“No! That’s not it at all!” Claire responded sharply. “I just know that I’m not going to be able to get rid of you so I’d like at least some peace from other interruptions.”

“Why don’t we go to that Korean restaurant for dinner?” Sulla said edging closer to Claire as they approached the bus stop. “You know you’ve been dying to try it.”

“I have not. You’re just making that up,” there was a hint of anger in Claire’s voice now and Sulla wisely backed off, not teasing her companion further as they boarded the bus and squeezed into a seat. Two attractive women together, well dressed and with identical choker necklaces attracted attention from the other bus passengers. Sulla found herself feeling very exposed, very uncomfortable with the number of people staring at her, and then realised it was Claire’s discomfort she was feeling. Focussing her thoughts, Sulla pushed her own confidence back at Claire, Sulla actually liked being noticed—there wasn’t much point in dying your hair bizarre colours for any other reason.

That seemed to help, Claire’s body relaxed noticeably and though neither woman said a word to each other the trip, they had subconsciously planned their entire evening already. A wash, a change of clothes, dinner (chicken being the compromise they came to) and a quiet night in front of the television relaxing and pondering their relationship. That they would end up in bed together was just a natural progression.

Sulla stepped out of the shower the next morning and deliberately ignored the bathrobe Claire had put out for her. The girl was feeling deliciously wicked at the moment, a lesbian affair with an older woman who was also her boss—great material for a sleazy talk show. She took her time drying herself with Claire’s fluffy towels, so soft compared to the ratty old things she had at home. The mirror was still steamed up so she couldn’t do her makeup yet, so she carefully hung up the towel—giggled when she realised it was Claire’s habit, not hers—and went out to see what was available for breakfast.

Claire was already dressed and in the process of going through the kitchen cupboards pulling out everything that could be used for breakfast. Hearing Sulla she turned and started a reprimand upon seeing the girl naked except for her jewellery but stopped herself. She knew Sulla was just trying to get such a reaction and it was best dealt with by ignoring it. The girl did have a lovely body, though and Claire knew she hadn’t had nearly as much confidence when she was Sulla’s age. “Would you like waffles for ...” Claire stopped, frowned and then in an angry tone—“You made me say that!”

Sulla tried to look repentant but it wasn’t in her repertoire. So instead she retorted: “Come on, I mean you only make them every second weekend, doesn’t that strike you as a silly habit?”

“It’s messy and takes ...” Claire smiled, “So why don’t you make them?”

“I don’t know how,” Sulla countered, a little too quickly as it occurred to her, “Oh! That’s not fair!”

“You’d better put on an apron,” Claire suggested without losing the playful smile, “You don’t want to be splashed by hot batter.”

Sulla poked her tongue out as she pulled the apron from the third drawer down and wrapped it around her naked body. The sight of the stud through her tongue prompted Claire’s curiosity.

“Aren’t they a nuisance? The tongue stud, the rings through your nipples?”

“You tell me,” Sulla replied with her own playful smile, “You certainly paid a lot of attention to them last night.”

“I ‘know’ they hurt when they were put in,” Claire continued, trying to get a straight answer out of the girl, “But its more about the ongoing maintenance. You have to keep them clean, check them all the time, a lot of effort which isn’t like you.”

“Never thought of it that way,” Sulla mused as she mixed the batter, “I sort of got one to piss off my father, and then ... well I liked seeing people’s reaction and had some more done. All attention grabbing, that’s me.”

Claire left it at that, let the girl finish making the waffles and sat down to a somewhat surreal breakfast, shared as it was with a naked, blue haired girl. Strangest of all what disturbed Claire the most was that she was having waffles on a weekday, it seemed to be throwing her entire schedule out of kilter. As such it was only a half hour before work when they realised that not only was Sulla still not dressed but that she didn’t have a change of clothes with her.

Normally this wouldn’t have been much of a problem to Sulla, but showing up to her second day at work with the same outfit, slightly soiled from the previous days sexual encounters, didn’t seem appropriate. Her panties were a total write-off. That left the option of trying to find something of Claire’s that would fit. Going through Claire’s wardrobe, Sulla made an observation.

“You don’t have as many clothes as I expected, its all really nice but surely you can’t get by on this?”

“I did have a lot more, mainly casual stuff. But after meeting you it didn’t seem ... I was going to say ‘appropriate’ but I’m really thinking worthwhile,” Claire replied. She was only just beginning to wonder how much of her radical clothing dump was due to Sulla’s influence. At an intellectual level she knew she should be regretting the waste but realistically she knew she would never have been able to wear any of it, it was just too dowdy.

“Same sort of problem,” Sulla spoke quietly as she thought of her own selection of clothes at home. “Don’t really want to wear any of my old stuff any more.” The girl suddenly brightened up again. “Of course you know this means we have to go shopping! Clothes, clothes and more clothes. I’m getting paid heaps, so you must be getting loads!”

“Doesn’t seem that way,” Claire replied, resisting being caught up in her companions enthusiasm. “Even with the promotion there doesn’t seem to be much left over at the end of the week.”

“C’mon, you must be ... Oh! Health insurance, life insurance, life assurance, retirement savings, geez ... you’re spending ten times as much on living tomorrow than living now!” Sulla was astounded. She was used to surviving from week to week on the benefit or minimum wage, she didn’t have a choice but to her it seemed that Claire deliberately channelled her money away to live at the same level.

“Its just being ... sensiblfff ...” Claire suddenly found herself tongue tied as the word refused to come out. She glowered at Sulla, knowing full well who was responsible.

“Let’s agree that you’re not allowed to use that word any more,” Sulla stated as she selected a silk top and dark grey skirt from Claire’s remaining clothes.

“Sengggg ... sesssdf ... ss ... argh!” Claire finally cried out in frustration. “How can you stop me from saying it even when I’m fighting you?”

“Maybe because you secretly agree with me, you’re fighting your subconscious as well as me.”

Claire growled, but there was nothing she could do about it and she had to content herself with admiring how good Sulla looked in her clothes. Strangely she didn’t feel jealous.

“C’mon lover,” Sulla said as she grabbed Claire by the wrist, “If we don’t get a move on we’ll be late.” That shocked Claire out of the reverie she had fallen in to and the two women hurried out of her apartment.

The work day proved ... interesting. There was no better word for it as far as Claire was concerned. It was a perverse torment to be so close to Sulla without being able to touch her, kiss her, fondle ... Claire shook herself to break that chain of thought, especially as she knew Sulla was going through exactly the same thing. She didn’t want to risk their merged desire causing them to throw aside their sensibilities and go at it in the office. Lunch time had given them some relief if at the cost of her panties but now as the clock neared five Claire wondered if they would make it home without jumping each other on the bus.

Sulla solved that problem by insisting they go back to her place instead, the justification being that Sulla needed to collect some of her own stuff. It had already been decided without a word being said that they would be sharing Claire’s apartment from now on. The walk was hurried, Sulla again teasing that it was because Claire was so eager to bury her face between Sulla’s legs and Claire failing to produce a convincing counter argument. Once again Sulla had forgotten her keys and once again Claire picked the lock with ease.

Inside the pretence went out the window, as nearly did one of Claire’s shoes in the fervour to shed their clothes. The day long build up of tension was too much for anything but passion, the tenderness of love shoved aside to satisfy their lust until both women were exhausted. Somehow they had made it all the way to Sulla’s bedroom this time, with a trail of discarded clothes and upended furniture to mark their passage.

The unyielding arousal dealt with, there was time to be intimate now and the two women lay in each others arms, bodies touching gently rather than in the frenzied lust of moments earlier. It gave Claire the chance to marvel at how trim Sulla’s body was, and to notice the scarring around the girl’s shoulder that she innately knew was caused by barbed wire when Sulla was fleeing the police as a twelve year old. Sulla’s thoughts were elsewhere, happy as she was she still felt the need for more excitement.

“Let’s go out,” she suggested after a while.

“Hmm,” Claire responded from her happy state, “Where?”

“Out. I know some places, clubs and things.”

“Okay,” Claire replied, had she been less content she might have pried further, looked in to Sulla’s mind to see exactly what she was referring to. Instead she let herself be led away to the shower to freshen up and back to Sulla’s room where her companion was pulling clothing from her drawers, apparently randomly.

“Here, try this on,” Sulla said holding out a black lace trimmed bra.

Claire took it and then hesitated. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“They’re work clothes, we’re not going to work, lover,” Sulla replied with forceful logic. “Now get dressed.”

“But these pantyhose have ladders in them,” Claire objected, still not quite clicking to what Sulla had in mind. “We can buy some new ones ...”

“Claire, lover,” Sulla responded with absolute patience, and a determination to keep Claire off balance, “They’re supposed to be laddered. It took me ages to get them just right. Now these hotpants, and yes I know the t-shirt is ripped, and a jacket, and some boots and I think we have it.” Sulla stepped back to size up her creation and nodded approvingly, “Just a little makeup and you’ll fit right in.”

“Fit in where?” Claire asked as Sulla globbed on the mascara. Sulla just smiled and handed Claire a solid black lipstick before showering and dressing herself. Half an hour later and the two of them were causing a commotion as they strode down the street. Claire with her hair slicked back, blackened eyes and lips, a well worn leather jacket hanging open over a torn t-shirt that gave glimpses of her lacy bra, laddered fishnet tights and skin hugging shorts. Sulla was no less extreme with her four inch heels, tight jeans, black satin bustier and a ragged lace shawl over her shoulders, a heavy blue and gold toning to her makeup. And Sulla was taking them to a party where there look would fit right in.