The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“...Sure everyone has questions, we’ll see how many we can answer here. Please, last one in close the door behind you.”

Kelly shut the door as she entered. The island was beautiful, but slightly spooky with all the empty corridors. There should be workers, finishing up last minute overruns, and the ‘command staff’ should be here to welcome them.

The whole setup was worrying her. The idea of flying off to some island resort and living there for months at a time had sounded exciting when she first took the job, and the ability to finally get away from the clutching arms of family had been the clincher that sold her completely, but she had been having second thoughts for a while now. What if she didn’t like the job? The contract stipulated a four-month initial stay (revokable only if she were to pay, as a guest, for the materials she had used during her stay); she could hate it and be stuck for three more months.

The man up front was saying something unimportant; Kelly tuned him out. Simple introductions. She was certain she would notice when he got to anything she needed to know. Either that or she could ask one of the other women.

They were all women: the man on the podium was the only man in the room, and presumably on the island. Again, this worried Kelly. She was not staying for some sexist male fantasy island, even if it was soft-core. Well, if it was soft-core enough she could stay the initial period to get her bonus. Maybe.

Just then the lights went out. Kelly jumped, like most of the audience. She turned her attention back to the front of the room just in time to see the logo fade in. An interlocking ‘P’ and ‘I’ in an old roman-style font. How original.

A sound to her right distracted her from the next section of the video. She turned to look, and saw a sliver of light as the presenter slipped out. Maybe there were others on the island and he was going to get them. Good.

Kelly turned back to the video, since she really couldn’t see anything else anyway. The standard fare, for a sales video: We’re great, We can do anything. The island itself seemed beautiful enough though. And for the amount of money they were throwing around maybe they could do anything.

The ending caught her attention. Anger boiled up as she listened to the narrator describe what ‘their girls’ would be willing to do.

Where was that scumbag of an owner? She wanted to see how much damage she could do to that sculpted face before she got on the next plane out.

Kelly was almost out of her seat when the next section of the video came on. What her ‘boss’ said there drained the anger away entirely, replacing it with the cold clench in her gut of fear. She wasn’t sure if what he said was possible, but mind control? Could she do anything if it was true? And if it wasn’t, what were the options?

There was one chance, either way. The video hadn’t been that long. Maybe the plane had not lifted off yet. The thought had hardly crossed her mind (and, without her realizing it, her lips) by the time she had the door opened and was running for the docks.

It occurred to her as she took the fifth turn that this was a fairly convoluted route; there was probably a shorter way. Oh well, no time for that now. This was the route she knew, and that made it the fastest route at the moment.

The packed white sand path was dug up and spilling slightly. It needed maintenance, and Kelly slid a little before she figured out how to run in the soft sand.

Turning the last corner, she skidded to a stop. There was no sign of the plane. Her feet carried her to the end of the pier, as her mind numbed in disbelief. She turned as others ran up behind her. “The plane’s gone.” Kelly stated the obvious.

“We should tell everyone else.” Kelly nodded, not thinking. The three who had followed her, including the one who had spoken, turned and ran back.

Kelly didn’t run. She walked back, lost in a nightmare. All her hopes, her dreams, all that she had wanted her life to be, gone. To... to... This! Her mind fought to comprehend the idea.

She had walked back to the villa, for no other reason than that was what she knew on the island. She stopped in the lobby, surveying the semi-organized pile of bags there. Hers was on the edge. She had packed it carefully for the trip, magazines to read, make-up for touching up what was smeared during the trip, apple juice in case her stomach got queasy...

She had never opened the apple juice. It was only a precaution: this had been her first trip by air and she hadn’t known if she would get airsick. She hadn’t, and besides there had been drinks on the flight to the seaplane, and an excellent meal on the seaplane itself. It should still be in that bag in front of her.

It took no more than a moment for Kelly to be on her knees opening the bag. The juice was still there, seal unbroken. The bottle was glass, the top metal. There was no way there were any nanobots in there. It was safe to drink.

But it was not enough to live on for a week. It would last a day or so, if she really stretched it, but no longer than that.

However, maybe others had done the same. No way would there be enough for everyone, but there could be enough for one... Kelly started searching the bags, trying not to disturb them more than absolutely necessary. Still, she worked quickly; she was not sharing this resource with others, unless she could afford it.

A ten minute search turned up four juice bottles (including hers), three cans of cola, five bottles of water, and a dozen juice boxes. Enough for a week, with some to spare. She would have to be careful, but she didn’t have to skimp. Still, not enough to share. She would have to hide the horde.

Packing the rest in her bag, she opened her original juice bottle, and took a sip: fear had dried her throat. The warm juice caused a little buzz in the back of her throat, it was both pleasant and a mild tickle. Carefully replacing the airtight top on the bottle she placed it in her bag with the others.

It was time to explore. Among other things she needed a place to hide her stash for the moment. She couldn’t have the girls she’d stolen from find her with their drinks.

Kelly hadn’t really looked around the entry lobby yet. Now, looking around, she started to notice the details. The bags were piled in the center of a two story room, with the far wall a set of huge glass windows and doors overlooking the ‘outdoor lounge’ and island beyond. To her left was a staircase in a semi-circle that went to a balcony above that ringed the room, as well as a hallway which looked to contain elevators. To her right was a bar that was shared with the lounge outside, and the hallway she’d gone down earlier. Behind her were the huge main doors, and the check-in counter.

It was to the last that she walked. If nothing else she could stow her bag under it, but the doors behind the counter should lead to offices and storage rooms. The perfect place to hide her stash for the moment.

The door she tried opened as she expected it too. A standard office: desk, chair, computer. There was a frosted window on the wall, which let in light without letting guests see in. By the safe in the corner Kelly supposed this was where the accounting, or at least the front desk accounting, was handled. She hid her bag under the desk.

On the desk was a uniform. Looking at it, Kelly realized that it might be useful to have a disguise for the next week. After all, by the end all the other girls would have been turned, and they might try to hunt down anyone who had escaped the effects of the nanobots.

And what better place to hide than at the check-in counter? She would know the moment a plane had come in: everyone would have go past her to get into the island. She would be able to look that bastard in the face before anyone else got to him.

Her mind made up, Kelly started taking off her clothes. Folding them neatly, she placed them on top of her now-bulging handbag. Then she started on the uniform. First, the garter belt, black of course. There were no panties, or bra for that matter. Of course. Next came the top, a blouse made of gause-thin white silk. Kelly felt a ripple of pleasure as she buttoned the exquisite fabric tight over her bare breasts: it was shaped perfectly to not wrinkle, and the slight movement of the soft silk soon had her tits standing at attention through the shear top. Then she sat down and drew on the stockings. Black, and as shear as the top. Carefully aligning the seams up the backs, she fastened the garters to hold them up. The skirt was next. Compared to the rest, it was almost conservative, just a tight black skirt that stopped just above the top of the stockings, with a slit up to her right hip.

She stood, putting her feet into the 4-inch heels (how was she going to walk in those?) Last was her hair: after drawing it back Kelly tied it into a bun at the back of her head and put on the brown and black cap.

There was a mirror on the back of the door, presumably for the ‘girls’ to check their appearance before going into public. Kelly stopped for a moment to admire her reflection. Bill wouldn’t have turned her down for the prom if she had looked like this!

She headed through the door to her post. She centered herself behind the wooden semicircle of the counter, and tried to clear her mind. All she had to do was stand here to fool the others; stand here and think of nothing. Nothing except the happiness of the guests. Just clear her mind until the guests needed her...

Pleasure Island’s welcome girl stood waiting to serve.