The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Julianna Linders efficiently and speedily explained her condition, concluding with her own self-analysis and perscription. “All I really need are some sleeping pills to get me through the next few weeks and I’ll be fine. Obviously,” she shrugged wearily, “I’m a business major, not a doctor, so I can’t do it myself. I mean, we can go through all this again, if you insist.” Her gray eyes delivered this comment with the barest trace of boredom at the prospect. “But of course the real problem is that I’ve been studying my butt off and I need to get caught up on my sleep.”

Doctor Dent essentially agreed with the college senior’s assessment. Like everything else about her, it was to the point and unarguable. She was a pale short-cropped brunette with a flipped up nose and slightly clenched smile that was more business than pleasure. Her body was unremarkable, if tall and thin, and her figure was more angles than feminine curves. He suspected she was underweight by a few pounds. Not much of a dresser either in her Columbia sweatshirt, baggy khakis and sneakers. There was the barest trace of gloss on her thin lips and just a dash of blush on her high wan cheeks. And she wore absolutely no jewelry whatsoever. She certainly hadn’t dressed to impress the good doctor.

Hmmmm, pondered Dent. That wasn’t very respectful now, was it Julianna?

“So, tell me about this stress of yours Ms. Linders? May I call you Julie?”

Her response was immediate and in the negative. “No—you may not. I hate the way people automatically assume they can shorten your name. It’s Julianna—really, I must insist Doctor Dent.”

Dent waved his arms in apology. “Naturally. I’m sorry. Julianna. Please continue.”

She blinked as he entered her mind, then proceeded to answer the question, unconscious of the expedition he was conducting into her real thoughts and feelings. The blather wasn’t worth listening to, but it kept her busy and gave her the comfortable illusion that she was in control. She wasn’t, of course. He was in control now.

“And so with my finals coming up, I need to nail down a 4.0 in Anthropology in order to even be considered for Phi Beta Kappa—”

Dent ignored the no-nonsense, confident voice recite her various little worries and opened up her mind for his inspection. She was an amazing young woman—a scholarship student with a straight A average than was hell-bent on a successful and very lucrative career in financial management—an investment banker, stock broker or international merger & acquisitions expert were some of the options she had set her sights on. It all sprang from an unhappy childhood—some kind of sexual abuse by an uncle at an early age had forged an utterly self-reliant young woman. Her parents were dead, no siblings.

“There is a concern that I might go summa instead of magna cum laude and that has me concerned as Harvard B School is notoriously picky—”

He poked about some more looking for males, but there wasn’t room in Julianna’s life for a mere male. That had to be a combination of the uncle again and sheer drive to succeed. There was a compulsion to succeed beyond all other needs or desires. It would manifest itself in obvious signs of money and social position, not a relationship. He saw faces of anxious male admirers, but nothing but mild interest in any of them. He found she owned a vibrator and that she used on a regular basis to relieve herself. Well, this would all change now.

“Well Juliana, well, well, well. Such a smart gal you think you are. Why don’t you keep your mouth shut now and listen to me, you little nitwit?” He savored the expression of shock on her face, then the immediate need to obey his command. Then the fear that floated in her gray eyes as his will mentally pinned her own down securely.

“Taking your GMAT soon, aren’t we? It’s,” he searched then found the answer among her thoughts, “tomorrow—right?”

Juliana Linders nodded silently, her delicate neck stiffening, then her head bobbing puppetlike. Resistance—what a spirited filly she was! It made it all that more enjoyable—even if it also forced him to exert more pressure. Lately it was getting a little, not a lot, difficult to overcome some of the patients when they resisted. It took an extra second, no more, but it was troubling. Like his worsening headaches.

“You’re not going to do well, dear. Not well at all. And you know it. You’ve always known that you’re not as smart as people think you are. You’ll be crazy with desperation by tomorrow morning. The only thing to do will be to bring a cheat sheet with you—cheating is the ONLY way you could do well on your GMATs, isn’t it?”

Again the stiff neck and the nod. Quicker this time. That was fine. He’d alert the proctor anonymously that Juliana Linders would be cheating on the test so she’d be discovered publicly. Dent regretted not being able to watch the humiliating scene that would unfold tomorrow about eleven o’clock—it would be delicious. And it would explain the subsequent turn in Juliana’s life for anyone even vaguely interested in her.

“If you don’t do well or something should happen tomorrow, you won’t be able to attend graduate school will you?”

Glazed gray eyes dilated. “N-n-no, Doctor.”

No indeed. And with the ensuing scandal, her scholarship would be automatically be withdrawn in keeping with the school’s strict honor code guidelines. What a shame. Columbia would be so embarrassed because of the incident, he doubted she’d be allowed to finish up her current semester. The word would spread, other schools informed and her name added to a black list. In other words, there would be no final Spring semester in Julianna’s senior year, no graduation, no grad school and no hope of being accepted at another school. What a tragedy.

“If things don’t work out for you, I mean if your little dreams of being a high powered career gal didn’t work out, you’d have to do something else, wouldn’t you?”

She had never considered anything other than a high powered career in finance, concerned with the management of large amounts of money and other human beings. Dent’s suggestion yawned ominously before her. Dark spots flashed over her future now. Things wouldn’t work out...she would have to do something else. Julianna’s subconscious mind was a top wound up by Dent. He would continued to spin it ever faster tomorrow afternoon.

“When I tap my desk, you’ll forget we had this discussion, Julianna. But before then, let’s get a few things straight. Tell me, will you pass the GMATs tomorrow?”

Her wan cheeks were drawn tight, teeth clenching. “N-no,” the realization spread over her, “I won’t pass it.” There was anger, but it was self-directed, like someone who has finally understood that she has been her own dupe.

“And why is that?”

Eyes blinked. “I’m just not smart enough. I don’t,” Dent noted with pleasure she added this on her own, “really have any business taking it to begin with.” She raised her small hand to her forehead, as if checking herself for a temperature. “What was I thinking?” she asked of herself in frustration.

The Doctor nodded solemnly. “What will you do?”

Her eyes narrowed. He wasn’t in the room anymore—she was thinking aloud. “I can write some of the basics on a small piece of paper, maybe slip it in my sleeve and pull it out. That should give me some of the answers anyway. The rest I’ll just have to guess—maybe just go with a random order. I read somewhere that even a random order gives you some percentage of right answers. Yeah, " her gray eyes were crafty now, thin lips curled in a foxy smirk as she reasoned her way through the impossible problem, “it might just work!”

Dent nodded doubtfully. “Give it a shot, Julianna. On your way out, make an appointment with my secretary for tomorrow—right after your GMATs are over.” He tapped his desk, and her face cleared.

“Are we through Doctor? I have other things to get done today.” Her tone was insistent, her mind already on the day’s next chore.

He rose. “Yes—for today. Make an appointment for tomorrow and we’ll get to the bottom of all this stress you’re dealing with—all right?”

She shrugged, unconvinced. “Yeah, fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She rose to leave and bent down to recover her backpack. Dent appraised the lift of her backside, pert and boyishly rounded even underneath her baggy khaki pants. It was so pattable, so spankable. He waited for her to make it to the elevator, then buzzed the intercom.

“Betsy, get me the number for the Dean of Students at Columbia University.”

The redness around her eyes gave Julianna Linders a desperate, hunted look. Despite some attempt to put herself back together, it was obvious she had been crying fiercely before coming to see Dent.

“Long day, Ms. Linders?”

She was silent for a minute and refused to meet Dent’s gaze. Slowly her face acquired a crimson luster the Doctor found familiar and very appealing. The blush of shame.

“I had some p-problems today, Doctor.”

Dent sat back into his chair. “Go on.”

She toyed with the edging on her sweatshirt and mumbled. When Dent insisted she repeat what she had said, Julianna raised her wretchedly. “I was caught cheating while taking my GMATs this morning. I’ve been...expelled. The Dean of Students wants me out by the end of the week. I won’t even be able to graduate next semester—because the university has put me on some kind of black list with the other schools. Not only that, but I also have to pay back all the scholarship money that Columbia gave me!” She sunk back into a moody daze.

Dent suppressed a smile. “My, is that a lot of money?”

Without looking up, she nodded. “I was on a hundred percent scholarship,” she informed him bitterly. “It will take me...years to pay it all back. And I don’t even have a degree to get a decent job to pay it all back. What was I thinking?” She looked up at Dent squarely. “What’s wrong with me, Doctor? I’ve never cheated on anything in my life!”

Dent allowed himself a sneer. “I think you’re suffering from a certain psychological syndrome. It is known as the Cinderella Complex. It manifests itself with young women who assume that they have natural gifts and abilities that they do not actually posses—in your case, intelligence. In such cases, the young woman’s ambition drives them to do things that they are otherwise incapable of doing, for example attending college, taking difficult courses and pursuing demanding careers. For a time, the ambition and drive carry these young women to perform well—on the surface. However, even then, these women are known to cheat and lie in order to succeed—though they do this on a subconscious level, without even being aware of what they are doing.”

Julianna shook her head. “You mean this isn’t the first time I’ve cheated?”

Dent shrugged. “You’ve probably been cheating since you were in junior high school Julianna. If we were to test your natural intelligence, I doubt you’d crack 110—not bad, but not college-level, my dear.”

The young woman drank this new knowledge in with a white-faced fit of coughing. Dent rose to get her a cup of water, which she accepted gratefully.

Dent continued relentlessly. “Like Cinderella, you finally hit the magic deadline and your coach has turned into a pumpkin, Julianna. I feel the pain you must be going through—but I also think this is a healthy development. You finally realize I hope that college wasn’t a place you should have ever been in the first place—don’t you?”

The pale, frightened woman nodded vaguely. Dent gently nudged her conviction level over a bit and her nod took on more acceptance. “Yes, I do now, Doctor.”

“Well, perhaps we can start to look at some new opportunities for you. Can you type Julianna?”

“Yes, Doctor,” her thin, dry lips answered. The question had relevance to her new set of life options.

“How many words a minute?”

Her gray eyes widened in surprise. “I—I don’t know. Not,” she added truthfully, “a lot I guess.”

Dent shrugged. “Well I guess an executive-level secretarial job is out, isn’t it? Those jobs require real skill, real experience. But a drop-out who can’t type very fast?” Dent’s doubtful expression closed that avenue. “Perhaps a junior level secretary job is possible, don’t you think?”

He loved the way her thin dark brows bunched up in anxiety, her eyes pleading for him to stop. “Secretary?” She forced the word out.

“Well, despite your office skills deficiencies and lack of experience, you might make some business executive a nice little helper. Naturally such jobs are very scarce—every high school girl in the city is trying to get them. They certainly beat waitressing. So you’ll have lots of competition.” He paused and tightened his hold on the expelled college girl. “Are you starting to understand just how silly it was for you to think you could really succeed as a big-time businesswoman—when you aren’t even cut out to make it as a junior secretary?”

Big tears began forming in Julianna Linders’ gray eyes, her lips puckering in a sad, angry pout. Her mind thrummed with the struggle that raged within. He was so wr- wr—, wr—... But she couldn’t even say it mentally, because...why? Because he was...RIGHT. A secretary. Shuddering sighs wracked through her chest, her small breasts heaving.

“I doubt you’d be of much interest to a REAL businesswoman since you don’t possess any marketable skills. But a businessMAN, well, that’s different altogether. You might offer a boss certain...assets he might find pleasing. Pleasurable. Enticing.”

Pleasing. Pleasurable. Enticing. Julianna registered the adjectives numbly.

Dent focused his attention in obvious inspection of Julianna’s body. “You are young and enthusiastic—eager to get and keep a job appropriate to you. Too bad you have had dreams that far exceeded your abilities. Time for that to change, Julianna. Time for the career gal she wants to be to become the office girl she is, Julianna.”

Instinct made her start to shake her head wildly, but a deeper pull turned it into a tamed nod.

“Good girl. Here,” he passed a business card to her, which she accepted obediently, “I have a contact here that might be able to help you—get you started with the next phase of your life.”

Julianna brushed the tears from her eyes and took the card as ordered.

PRETTY PETS SECRETARIAL PLACEMENT-

A selection of sexy assistants for the discriminating executive

Dent picked up his phone, dialed and had a brief conversation while Julianna sat, staring at the card mutely.

“I’ve made an appointment for you after you leave here, Julianna. They say they might have something available, but their selection process is rather intensive and...personal. I suggest you do as they say,” here he embedded a root command for her to do so, despite all the unpleasantness it would entail for her, “and return here by the end of the day.”

Julianna rose shakily. Holding the card, she left the office and hailed a cab. The address on the card was situated in a prestigious financial district skyscraper. The doorman gave her a leer when she asked for Pretty Pets, which was not listed on the office directory, then a suite number and a lewd wink. A hesitant knock brought her into a small office across the desk from a severe worldly-looking auburn haired woman in her mid forties, a Ms. Steele.

“You’ll need to fill this out.” She pushed an application across the desk. “It is basic information our clients need in evaluating whether or not they will take you on. Fill it out completely. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Julianna focused on the form.

Pretty Pets Secretarial Placement Agreement

I the undersigned agree to accept agency placement without reservation, that my paycheck will be paid directly to the agency, which is entitled to a fifty percent placement fee for the duration of my employment, and that if my employment should be terminated FOR ANY REASON by the employer I am placed with within a period of ten years from date of start, that I shall be held responsible for making whole my entire employment income through that ten year period, fifty percent refund to my employer for the time of employment and fifty percent to Pretty Pets Secretarial Placement for the entirety of the ten years.

Please state the follow: age, height and weight; measurements: bust, waist, hips; brassiere cup size; hair color: shade and length; color of eyes.

State the age at which you lost your virginity

State the number of male sexual partners you have had since that time

State the number of female sexual partners you have had

Indicate number of sexual encounters you have had in the following areas: missionary, doggy style, fellatio, cunnilingus, anal

Indicate the sexual acts which you have to this point refused to allow

Indicate number of times you masturbate per week

Describe any sexual aids which you currently own or have utilized in the past

Describe your most intense sexual encounter

Describe your most intense sexual fantasy

Describe the sexual act or fantasy for you which you have the most aversion to

Describe your ten most intimate articles of lingerie

PLEASE NOTE COMPLETE DISCLOSURE IS MANDATORY. FAILURE TO ANSWER ALL THE ABOVE QUESTIONS COMPLETELY DISQUALIFIES YOU FROM ANY EMPLOYMENT CONSIDERATION.

YOUR ANSWERS WILL BE VERIFIED THROUGH LIE DETECTION APPARATUS!

Julianna’s eyes were filled with tears, shaking her head in disbelief. This is the description of her that potential employers would review? It was insane. There had to be another way. True she had cheated on the test—why she still didn’t know. But she still had a brain and she had more to offer that what the application seemed to imply for her. Although she was beginning to realize she wasn’t as smart as she had assumed she was. A lot of the assumptions she had were beginning to fall apart. But this? Was this to be her future? No. She dropped the pen to the desktop and began to rise.

Then she picked it up again and with tears streaming down her cheeks began to fill out the application as completely as she was able. An hour later Ms. Steele returned, ignoring Julianna’s ashen expression.

“Well, I see you’ve completed the application.” The older woman’s eyes flashed over the answers, a pleased curl on her lips indicating her approval. “Very good—very...explicit. Our customers will appreciate your forthrightness. And some of the things you’ve shared here will make you a very, very marketable candidate. Smart of you to be so brutally honest—as I’m sure you’re aware, there is a great deal of competition for assistant positions.” Ms. Steel snapped her fingers. “Ready video please in room seven!” she spoke into an intercom, then looked up at the surprised Julianna.

“We videotape the interviews for a couple of reasons. First we use them for verification of your answers, so we’ll start with those. And of course we want to let our customers know what the secretarial candidates look like. Shall we begin?”

She didn’t look up at Julianna or wait for a response. If Dent had sent her, she would do as she was told. Steele didn’t know how the doctor discovered the desperate young women he referred to Pretty Pets and she didn’t care. He was well-compensated for sending the traffic her way. She and her partners were clearing $100,000 a month by supplying pretty young things to lecherous business-types who called them secretaries and used them like whores. It was a brilliant vicious circle they had created at Pretty Pets—the girls the doctor sent were on the edge and willing to do anything they were told—even accept the absurd terms of the contract. Then Pretty Pets negotiated the girl’s “salary”—never allowing for more than starvation levels wages—while demanding a huge “finder’s fee” on the side, which the girl never knew about. Because of the strict terms of the contract, the new employer held the whiphand. He—or she—was basically the girl’s owner on whom the young secretary was totally dependent financially.

Steele smiled. The “candidate” sitting in front of her today had a body language that was too confident, too self-possessed. It was a body language that was needful of training, begging for the whiphand of a new boss.

She began running down the list of questions. “State your age, height and weight, dear.”

“I’m twenty, 5′ 9″ and 110 lbs.”

“Look up dear so the customers can get a look at you. Now your measurements.”

Julianna straightened herself, tip her head up and looked up at the interviewer. “32-28-34.”

Steele grinned. “Cup size dear. Not that I can’t guess—you’re a little thing up top, aren’t you?”

After a moment’s blush, she responded. “I’m a B.”

Steel shook her head. “You verge on an A, though. Now tell me when you lost your virginity.”

It was getting worse. But she had to answer. “Seventeen.”

“State the number of male sexual partners you have had since that time.”

Julianna swallowed. “None.”

Steele’s red lips curled. She was flat chested but very fresh. “Repeat that for the video.”

Julianna cleared her throat. “I, uh, haven’t had a sexual encounter since I lost my virginity three years ago.”

Interesting, thought Steele. “Are you a lesbian dear?”

The auburn-haired darling shook her head violently. “N-no! No way!”

Maybe that would change depending on the boss’es whims. “Fine, fine. Calm down dear. Your first—and only time—it was just straight missionary sex, yes?”

The expelled coed nodded earnestly.

“What wouldn’t you do if you were asked?” The customers always loved this part. “Stop looking in your lap and address the video!”

Shaken, Julianna Linders jerked her head up, mouth agape. “I, well, wouldn’t do like...anything weird.”

“Specifically, Julianna. Specifically!” Steel was losing patience with the blushing little prude.

“Like oral sex—I wouldn’t like that.”

‘You wouldn’t like to perform oral sex for a man?” Julianna nodded vigorously. There was no point in proceeded with that line of questioning. If the little priss was put off by giving a blow job, everything else was probably off-limits too. Not for very much longer though.

“Do you masturbate dear? If so, how often? And with what?”

This was the worst. She wouldn’t answer. This was wrong. She didn’t belong here.

YOU BELONG HERE

The thought filled her brain with absolute certainty.

“I masturbate with a vibrator three times a week, Ms. Steele.”

How orderly and efficient. But a new boss would have different ideas about masturbation, about turning it from a right into a privilege. “Describe your most intense sexual fantasy dear. Whatever you think about while playing with yourself. Be explicit.”

Explicit. No, no, no, no,

TELL HER EVERYTHING

Julianna obeyed the insistent internal voice. Her lips betrayed her effortlessly, spilling out the sacred fantasy. “I am a princess and my father and mother are the king and queen of the land. I imagine myself under a waterfall bathing myself, attended by my ladies in waiting who watch me from the banks of the fall, ready to attend me. Then suddenly a band of brigands rides up and surrounds us. They are a hard group of men—dangerous men—and we are just a bevy of pretty girls. My ladies cower in fear, petrified of what they will do with us. But I am a princess and won’t be frightened by a common pack of thieves.”

Steele couldn’t contain a chuckle, but Julianna continued, swept up by her fantasy. “I throw a coverlet around me and demand who the leader is. The brigands are taken aback by my courage. Then a tall, handsome brigand captain comes before me. I bravely tell him who I am and demand he release my ladies and I. He just laughs, then throws me over his shoulder, taking me behind a copse. There he ravishes me. But as he does, he realizes that he is in love with me and the rape turns to love. Then he asks me to be his lady. And I become queen of the bandits.” Julianna looked away from the video now. Sharing the fantasy had felt like rape.

Steele’s eyes glazed over. This repressed little bitch had some kind of pathetic imagination. This was like a bad Harlequin romance. Queen of the bandits? Some customer would get a kick out of that one. They loved getting inside the head of their new office toy and the fantasy question had been a good way of letting them in. Poor little thing—maybe her new boss would play the fantasy out with her just for kicks. Probably not, though. The girl’s fantasy was never terribly important in the end—just the new master’s.

“Fine dear. You’re doing very well. Now let’s get to the sexual act or fantasy which is a turn-off, shall we? Again, remember that our specialist check the tapes for signs of not telling the truth—so be detailed and honest.”

DO IT. TELL HER EVERYTHING the horrible voice commanded. Cold electricity on her tongue as she answered helplessly...

“I saw a movie one time that really bothered me. It was about a young schoolteacher who taught in an inner city school. The leader of a gang, a big black boy, gets a crush on her and decides he wants to, uh, make love to her. She says no and the boy has his gang trap her in her classroom and then he, he, rapes her.” A shiver. “It was awful because then he lets the other boys in the gang rape her too. But that was really a turn-off. I don’t go for black guys and rape is awful. I thought about that movie for a long time. In the end, she kills them all though.” A relieved smile then a visible question on her forehead.

“Is there more? Go on then.”

TELL HER ABOUT LORI

How did the voice know about Lori?

“When I was sixteen, my cousin Lori came to stay with us for the summer. She was in college already and very sophisticated. She was sort of like an older sister I guess and she was very pretty—everyone told her she looked like Priscilla Presley. She had lots of boyfriends calling all the time, but she never really went out with any of them. I wondered why till one night when my parents were out, she asked me if I wanted to share a bottle of wine with her. I wanted to be cool so I said sure. After a while we were both pretty out of control and laughing and all. Then she pulled me close to her and began kissing me—like a boy would, though. I pushed her away and told her I wasn’t interested. We never talked about it but I kept my distance the rest of the summer. I’ve never told anyone about it before,” Juliana concluded in wonderment. It was the deepest secret of her life and she had just shared it with this strange, hard women and an invisible audience of potential employers. But the Voice was pleased.

“Very candid dear. So this tryst with your cousin put you off to girls, I take it?”

“It wasn’t a ‘tryst’! She came on to me and I’m NOT a lesbian, o.k. lady?” Juliana breathed hotly.

Not yet, dear. Not yet. “Yes, of course. Now as I look at the last question, I see you haven’t done a very good job filling out the information as requested, I afraid. You were asked to describe your ten most intimate articles of lingerie—”

“But I did!” Juliana protested. “I did! I listed—”

“You listed,” Steel cut in, “as the sexiest lingerie you own, ten pairs of matching Jockeys For Her bras and panties in different colors. Come now—that’s not very sexy, is it?”

“One pair is black and I thought...” the coed stumbled and stopped.

“No teddies, garter belts or baby dolls you slip into to feel a bit more...uninhibited?”

Juliana shook her head. Lingerie was something some women wasted a lot of money on. Not her. She didn’t dress up that way—like a slut—for anybody. Especially a men.

Steele knit her eyebrows in consternation. “Not a single thong panty to turn a frat boy on after a wonderful date?”

No answer—just a creeping, frustration with these insane questions—and her inability to just get up and leave.

“Not even a push-up bra for those bumps you call breasts?”

Fury coursed through her thin frame and Juliana’s hands clenched into fists. Who did this woman think she was, commenting on her breasts this way? True they were small but she had no right—

SHE HAS EVERY RIGHT

Her hands unclenched. The rage drained out of her immediately, leaving only a residue of shame.

“Answer me, girl!” Ms. Steele demanded.

“N-no, I, uh, don’t have one,” she answered in a small voice.

That would change, if she was a betting woman, contemplated Steele. But with Dent’s referrals, there was no need to bet. Everything was a sure thing. God- he had such a knack for conditioning these honnies to accept even the most humiliating comments and acts! What a genius! Oh well, time to finish up and get this one out in the market.

“Well, that’s the last question. We’re almost through,” she promised as she slipped the application into a manila folder.

Juliana nodded numbly. It would take all her strength to get out of the chair, but once she did, she was fairly certain she would break a land-speed record getting the hell out of the building. Obviously she wasn’t in control of herself. It had been a long day. This was a mistake and a good night’s sleep would help her clear her head. Maybe she was delerious—

“Stand up, girl.”

OBEY HER

Juliana shot up from the seat, brain throbbing with a headache.

“Video check again please. Now dear, take off your blouse.”

Juliana didn’t respond at once. But the Voice was silent. That was a good sign. She felt courage well up within her. With concentration, she looked squarely at the older woman, smirked, then asked in a deliberately sarcastic tone, “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

This was odd, but it was admittedly an odd business, so Steele let the remark pass. “We have to let the customers see what the merchandise looks like dear. If you want a placement, you’ll have to strip down and do a bit of posing. We take the tape, splice it into what we call the “audition” tape to potential bosses. Then based on the tape and the application, they decide who they want to see in person. But for the tape, imagine I’m the employer and you’re interviewing for me personally. And I want to inspect your lingerie—to make sure you’re pretty for me underneath your business clothes. Do a cute little striptease for me to let me know how much you really want the job. Go ahead—I don’t have all day, girl.”

The Voice had left now—it had definitely left! She could feel the space behind her forehead, cooler now. This was over then. The temporary madness had passed—which meant she could say what needed to be said. “Fuck you—girl.”

Steele was hung up for a moment and Juliana loved it. “I don’t know what I’m doing here—Dr. Dent clearly has the wrong idea of what goes at this office. But your sick little operation is about to go out of business, Ms. Steele. I’m going to tell the cops about this place and I don’t think you’ll be ‘placing’ any girls any time soon!” With a superior knowing smile, she turned to leave.

STOP

She froze, a statue except for the wash of fear that made her blink twice.

APOLOGIZE

Mechanically her lips separated. “I’m sorry, Ms. Steele. I...apologize.”

The older woman had been surprised, but she knew there was no need to fear now. She felt a pang of guilt that she had doubted, even for a second, that the Doctor had let her down. She sat back, tapping the table impatiently. “I said, take off your blouse. Then your pants. We’ll go from there. But if I have to repeat myself—” She let the threat hang, then held up the application. “I own your contract honey. If I want, I’ll place you with a leather freak who’ll beat the shit out of you every day for the rest of your life. Keep that in mind before you consider another outburst like that!”

DO WHAT SHE TELLS YOU. DO EVERYTHING SHE TELLS YOU TO DO.

Juliana’s fingers leapt to the hem of her sweatshirt and began pulling it up, exposing her pale pink soft-cup Hanes for Her bra. Trembling, she kicked off her sneakers, then with a sigh, she slipped out of her khaki pants to display her matching pale pink cotton panties. She stood before the older businesswoman in her underwear, eyes averted shyly.

This was better. She was girlishly built—no supermodel, but there was a certain schoolgirl charm in her modesty, in the way she nervously rocked on her toes clad only in her boring undies. Rough and in need of training, but promising. Very promising. She placed an object on the table and reveled in the expelled student’s shocked expression.

“Now imagine the boss calls you into his office. He’s had a very stressful day and wants a little diversion. He orders you to strip down, then kindly gives you this little gift. Go on—you know what to do.”

Julianna looked at the bright red vibrator, bit her lower lip. Tears were rolling down her cheeks. She blinked them away and looked into Steele’s eyes, searching for any shred of mercy. There was none to be found. The middle-aged businesswoman waited impassively, tapping her fingers. Cool air enveloped the near naked college girl now and she shivered.

For a moment, time stopped and the unreality of the situation allowed Julianna to step away from it. Everything told her that she would soon be the office bimbo for some businessman, a boss who from the very first day on the job would know her body intimately. Her dreams and fantasies and fears would belong to him as much as to her. She would be an executive perk, an office plaything, nothing more. Her intelligence was no longer an asset. Instead of working out international acquisitions on a six figure salary, she would be fetching coffee for a boss making $8 an hour. Instead of indulging herself with expensive sports cars, exotic vacations or tasteful jewelry, she would be investing her meager dollars in lingerie and cosmetics for her boss’es pleasure. It would be a very small space to live in, but then she would be a very small person in the world now anyway. Briefly she wondered about the little world she would soon inhabit—a cheap apartment, the office where everyone would know what her real qualifications were, the highway hotels, the space under her boss’es desk... She knew all this, knew it would be this way from now on. She hated it too.

She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed to the Voice. Please! Don’t do this to me! I don’t understand what I did, but I’m sorry! Please give me another chance! I’ll be good! I won’t cheat! I BEG YOU! DON’T TURN ME INTO A SLUT!

The Voice answered at last. YOU ARE A SLUT. OBEY THIS WOMAN—NOWWWW!

In a trance, Julianna gingerly picked up the vibrator and turned the dial at its base. It thrummed to life in her hands and Ms. Steele’s dour expression brightened.

“Face the camera dear and remember—do a good job. You’re performing for an audience of potential employers! Your new boss is watching out there somewhere—isn’t that exciting?”

Her new boss.... Juliana licked her lips, smiled weakly and began to lower her panties.

An hour and a half later she stood in front of Doctor Dent’s desk. He hadn’t invited her to sit down and she was surprised to see a cassette sitting on his desk. She could guess what it was a videotape of.

“It arrived ten minutes ago. I fast forwarded it so I could see the highlights, but I’ll review it at more length at another time.” His eyes gleamed at her and she looked away. “From what I could see, you have the makings of a fine little piece of office tail. I’m sure it won’t be long till you’re offered an interesting...,” he indulged himself in a terrible pun, “position, let us say, of some kind.”

Juliana looked at her doctor in incredulity. Insane thoughts twisted like snakes inside her ravished brain. “I came in here yesterday with a full scholarship, a 4.0 average and on the verge of entering a top notch business school. All I asked for was a sleeping pill. Now I’ve been expelled, no chance at even getting my undergraduate degree and no prospects other than getting a job as a virtual prostitute in a corporate office somewhere—and it all happened because I came to see you!” She jabbed her finger in righteous accusation.

Dent sat back. “Oh really? How did I manage all that?”

The gray eyes lost their fire. “I...don’t know. Somehow. But I don’t care. This is beyond me. I’ll go to the police and let them figure it out. It may sound crazy, but I’m sure they’ll be interested in your association with that Steele woman.” She would go now, without thinking or hesitating. If she didn’t go now she would be lost forever.

STOP

She stood still. It was the Voice. Julianna shuddered in anticipation of what humiliation it would command her to engage in. The Voice but different. Of course, it was spoken aloud—not just in her head! Dent’s Voice? Yes!

“Finally figured it out, did you? What a bright office girl you’ll make some boss! Now, back to your simple threats. Let’s deal with those first. Come sit on my lap.”

With no choice, her body obeyed. She settled into the man’s lap with lips pursed firmly shut. She winced as his hands gripped her small breasts, then kneading them with an arrogant casualness. Her own hands remained latched to her thighs.

Sensing her thoughts, he tightened his grip. “You are frustrated because you don’t control your body, right? Get used to it. Your body doesn’t belong to you anymore. It belongs to your superiors—the bosses who you will serve. You will keep it fit and trim because without your body, you have NOTHING to offer a potential employer. Darling, it is time you came to terms with your new identity. The mind you are so proud of is empty of any real thoughts. Nothing you have to say is of the slightest interest to anyone. Your intellectual life as you knew it—reading books, watching foreign films, enjoying classical music—such subtleties are now far, far beyond you.”

What was he talking about? She would stop reading books, listening to her beloved Chopin? It couldn’t happen—

YES, IT CAN AND IT WILL—IMMEDIATELY. SHUT UP AND LISTEN CAREFULLY.

Dent continued verbally. “There was once a young woman who’s name was Juliana Linders—you may have known her. She was bright, studious, and ambitious—she was going to be a leader in corporate America, a high profile specialist in international mergers and acquisitions. Through a combination of talent, verve and style, she became very successful and very wealthy. Eventually she settled on a husband—a world-class surgeon. The two went on to enjoy a very comfortable life, and Juliana was fulfilled in every way as a woman, a wife, a professional and a lover. But Juliana Linders is gone as of this moment. She no longer exists. In her place there is a new person. Julee Linders.”

She was crying softly and Dent allowed it—the only act of mercy he permitted her.

“Julee is a loser—a down and out drop-out that no one cares about. She has low self-esteem and rightly so. There isn’t a lot to her. She isn’t very bright—she had been fooling everyone for years by cheating till she got caught and expelled. For awhile she thought she was really something special—reading deep books, listening to classical music and watching foreign movies. Very superior she was about it all.

But she no longer has the luxury of such illusions. Now she needs a job—badly. Julee’s signed a contract that she’s obligated to meet. She’s very excited at the prospect of becoming a secretary and earning a little money. She knows she will never earn very much—just enough to pay rent on a tiny apartment, buy cosmetics and cheap clothes—but it is still better than the only other occupation she thinks she is skilled enough to perform—streetwalking. So she’s ready and willing to become a constantly felt-up, bent over and made to kneel office toy—it is better than anything else she could look forward to.

Julee’s body is very important. She knows she isn’t gorgeous—and hates her flat chest—but knows it is the only reason she gets to keep her job. So Julee works out constantly—keeping her weight down and using every spare minute doing aerobics. She knows she has to show off her little bod too- so every spare dime goes into make-up, hair spray, cheap jewelry, perfume. She’s a little clothes horse too, with quantity more important than quality. So her clothes are brightly colored, revealing, cheap and tight. She treats herself by buying discount lingerie on payday.

Julee doesn’t worry about books—she reads fashion magazines. She likes music—disco or top 40 ear candy. TV is important—a fantasy world she can escape into. So she watches Melrose Place or nighttime soaps like it, imagining herself as one of the characters. Sexy movies are o.k. too, but so expensive she rarely goes to see any. Not very deep, is she?”

Juliana shook her head truthfully. Julee Linders was an airhead—the perfect plaything. She listened dumbly as Doctor Dent put the finishing touches on his new creation.

“In a day or so, Julee will get a call from Ms. Steele about a special opportunity to become a Pretty Pets girl. She will interview behind closed doors with somebody—a black man? Maybe a closet bull-dyke. Maybe a middle-aged married man who wants a young mistress on the side. Who ever it is, Julee will try very hard to prove herself to the interviewer. Getting the job will be important—failure is not permitted. If Julee gets the job, she will perform any act she is told to She knows full well that she will have to perform sexually for her various employers or she will not keep her low level secretarial job. Everyone in the office will know just what she is and why she has been hired—to be a fucktoy for her boss of the moment. Pleasing her superior will be Julee’s only mission in life. She will forget she ever had any other dreams or aspirations.”

He pulled on her nipples, now hard, and whispered into her ear.

“And when you are being bent over a desk and fucked Julee, only then will you remember who you were before yesterday. And whenever you cum, you’ll remember that you could have been so much more than just a glorified office whore.”

He pushed her off his lap. “Now get out and forget we ever met. Go begin your new life—Julee.”

The girl’s gray eyes went blank, then blinked. Julee had to go home and wait for Ms. Steele to call. She would pray that the call would come soon. As Dent watched her pert ass swing out the door, the panic had already begun. She just HAD to get a Pretty Pets assignment! Had she been convincing enough in her video? If she wasn’t so flat—

Another treatment gone well with another young woman cured of her foolish expectations. Dent lit a cigar and called for Betsy his personal secretary to attend him.

“Anything?” Frantz asked his assistant as he looked over her shoulder at the monitor.

She clicked away briskly, turned and shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Keep looking,” the researcher snapped and turned away. When he had left the room, Nikki returned to the web page she had been browsing and typed “Region: US Category: Social Services Specify: Women” into the search box.