The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Hosieria Spa and Resort

Chapter Three—Resolution

“Agent Barnes they are ready for you now.” “Thank you Ethyl,” Charlene says to her boss’ secretary before heading inside. “Agent Barnes, please come in,” Charlene’s boss Michael Grody exclaims seeing his agent enter the lab for their planned meeting. “I want you to meet John Nelson. John is heading up this operation and, of course you know Kari,” Michael continues, gesturing towards another woman in the room whom he knows shared training classes with Charlene. Charlene exchanges handshakes with Mr. Nelson and smiles at Kari who does not smile back at her. Charlene raises an eyebrow, a silent, “what’s up?” to her good friend but she only looks away. Charlene’s attention is quickly diverted by her boss who continues, “John needed another agent for an undercover operation that is already underway, and John, I think you’ll agree Charlene is perfect for this one.” Charlene gets a very uneasy feeling that John and Michael are suddenly looking her over, in a 1960’s sexual harassment kind of way, as they gesture for her to sit on a large, leather chair in the middle of the group. Charlene notices Kari stirring behind her a bit as her boss continues, “Agent Barnes we thank you very much for your cooperation in this matter and assure you that your safety is our utmost concern, which is why we must take such drastic measures.” “Drastic measures?” Charlene begins to ask leaning forward from her chair and looking behind her to see Kari at a small control panel. Charlene looks around her as she notices herself suddenly bathed in a eerie blue light, and looks above her seat towards its obvious source, finding herself gazing deeply into a bright column of light streaming down upon her, soft, soothing light. “Just sit back and relax Charlene,” Charlene recognizes Kari’s voice as her body sinks back into the soft leather chair, which reclines leaving her staring straight up at the light. “This will have her sucking toes with the best of them in no time,” Charlene hears another voice say, then laughter, her concentration on the light above her making it difficult to recognize even who is speaking anymore as the voices begin to fade into the background. “Perhaps had we done this with Ann Burton she wouldn’t have blown her cover and she wouldn’t be sucking toes permanently now.” “So peaceful, so relaxing,” Charlene thinks to herself as the voices, and her own thoughts, fade away for good.

Charlene awakens, finding herself in a pool of sweat, confused by her surroundings, but quickly realizing she is in her room at the resort. “My God no, it, it can’t be,” she mumbles to herself in disbelief. “These feelings, these desires; I’ve had them my whole life, I mean, I must have had them my whole life. And the bureau, why would they do this, I mean, surely they didn’t and this is all just a dream.” Charlene composes herself enough to struggle towards the shower; “need to stay on schedule” she thinks to herself, devastated by the thoughts now filling her mind, not knowing any longer what is real and what is not. Obviously her desires are still there (6th morning in a row she woke up with her fingers buried deep inside her sex) “but are they really mine or just something programmed into her on a bureaucrat’s whim?” She curses the bureau, knowing full well that they are capable of such, almost insane levels of callousness; she has seen it many times before. But if she could not trust them, whom could she trust anymore? All this seems so confusing to Charlene as she finishes showering and dressing and files out into the hallway, taking up the silent procession to the elevators and the day at hand. Never before did playing the role of “mindless servant,” even if as just part of her cover, seem so appealing to her.

All day long Charlene seems lost in the faces of those around her, drawn in by their blank stares, their mindless servitude by which they obey commands never spoken, always knowing exactly how and when to perform. “How happy are they?” she wonders to herself. “Do they consider themselves lucky to be so withdrawn from their former lives?” a thought which now seems almost appealing to Charlene given her apparent betrayal by the bureau she has devoted five years of her life in training to serve. “And how could Kari ever do something like that to me,” referring to her best friend whom she suffered through training with; Kari choosing systems “intelligence” as her specialty rather than the operations route chosen by Charlene. Little did either of them realize at the time that that decision made years ago would put them on such a collision course for the this ultimate betrayal of their friendship. “All for the good of the bureau,” Charlene mumbles to herself as she seems to internally come to grips with the fact that her fetishes have more likely been programmed into her in the past few months rather than instilled in her at birth. But all that seems inconsequential as she kneels before her morning client, a young girl named Stacey who comes to the resort often to, as she says, “to get off using her parent’s money.” But as Stacey’s toes glide inside Charlene’s mouth, Charlene comes to enjoy the moment of peace that blind, mindless servitude can provide her at such a time of utter turmoil.

It is not long before Charlene is again streaming into her room, her desires growing so much day-to-day that she now needs to sneak back to her room during the day unable to “hold out” until nightfall. As Charlene springs onto her bed, her fingers circling against her clit, she dwells on the faces of those many who have come before her, their blank stares, their mindless gazes. She sees Ann Burton, another agent just like her, whose own incompetence sent her down the path to destruction. “But is heading down the path to being a mindless slave really destruction?” Charlene cums. Charlene remembers earlier in the day running into Emily, her banking executive client whom she had served so well in the past, most recently just a few days ago. She remembers the tingle she felt when she saw Emily clad in the resort’s “official uniform” her glassy eyes leaving no doubt that she was now “one of them.” Charlene cums again. Charlene’s thoughts drift to young Tami who she saw just before just before climbing on the elevator to return to her room, going from chair to chair in the hotel lobby, on her knees, greeting each of the hotel’s new arrivals with a long suck of their toes, the resort issued skirt and hose adorning her body as well. Charlene remembers clearly how happy she seemed, though Tami’s blank mind obviously registered none of this happiness. Charlene cums yet again, stronger than ever before, and feels pleasures continuing to build inside her as she now again envisions herself seated in that chair back at the bureau, viewing it now almost like an out of body experience. She sees herself sitting there, gazing up mindlessly at the blue light streaming down from above her. “How happy she looks,” Charlene thinks to herself as if speaking of another person rather than herself. “No worries,” pleasure building, “no betrayal,” pleasure building, “no thinking,” pleasure building, “nothing but pure, unadulterated pleasure. So nice,” Charlene cums hard, “so very nice,” Charlene cums even harder, “So,” cums even harder, “fucking,” cums even harder, “PERFECT!”

Charlene stirs in her bed, sunlight gently poking through the curtains as the gentle tones that awake the staff each morning flow through the door reaching her ears. She flings the sheets aside and steps down to the floor below, heading off towards the shower, removing and neatly folding her dress and hose, placing them atop a nearby shelf. After a quick dousing of soap and water, she towels herself off, and selects a fresh outfit from the closet, identical to the one that lies neatly folded nearby, and dresses herself before returning to the bathroom to fix her hair and makeup. Gliding her satin slippers on her feet, she opens the door and files from her room into the column of men and women outside her door on their way to the elevators; a silent, robotic procession of blank stares and gaping jaws on their way to greet their day ahead.

They say all hypnosis is self-hypnosis. Looking deep into Charlene’s eyes that morning one couldn’t help but believe that is entirely true