The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Lilian loved her job.

Really, what was there not to like? The pay was terrific, the work was easy and the hours were—well it wasn’t like there were real hours at all, since all she had to do was live here. Nelson owned a big house in a fashionable part of town. Lilian kept it very clean. Even at that she had help; Nelson hired a couple of cute young house cleaners to mop and dust twice a week.

Lilian was so relieved that she didn’t have to commute into a stuffy, boring office every day, like so many of her former classmates back at the university. That would be soooo dull. She wouldn’t even be able to wear her pretty clothes. What was the point of that kind of life? She made just as good a living here, without all that tedious thinking and stuff.

The only advantage she could think of to working in an office (and she admitted that thinking wasn’t her strong suit) was that most offices were full of men. Lilian really liked men. She liked showing off for them and flirting with them and getting them all worked up by flashing her awesome body in her pretty, sexy clothes. She liked bringing them drinks and giggling at their jokes and pretending to understand the important stuff they always said they did for a living. Most of all, when Nelson said it was all right, she liked taking care of the big, yummy stiffies men always seemed to get around her. Lilian liked that part a lot.

She was thinking these happy thoughts on an ordinary Thursday morning as she shuffled about her bedroom, getting ready for the day. Nelson was already at work—she had given him his breakfast and his morning blow job hours ago—but Lilian had been busy with her morning workout down in the sunroom, and then a shower and doing her hair and her nails and, especially important on Thursdays, putting the rubbish on the curb in her negligee.

That part was fun. Lilian took a good ten minutes to take the rubbish out. She knew she had the attention of at least five men (and one woman!) in the big houses nearby as she strolled out the walkway in her super-high heels, glistening stockings and semi-transparent sleepware. She made a fuss about getting it into the bin, though it was actually no trouble at all. Generally she pretended to drop something.

Almost invariably one of the neighbours just happened to be passing by to lend a hand—they didn’t want her to get her hands dirty, of course. So Lilian let them ogle her big titties and her perfect legs and her panty-covered ass for a few minutes while they made an even bigger production of dropping a bag into a barrel. She sent them home with a smile and a gushy thanks, and usually another big stiffie. Then she had to come back in and play with herself for a while.

With all this business it was well after 11 before Lilian got around to getting fully dressed. She sipped a drink she had poured for herself as she considered her closet. She had already combed out her luxurious blonde hair and applied a coat of cherry red lipstick. From that foundation, only a truly red dress would do. Nelson wouldn’t be home for hours. While she had the house to herself, Nelson didn’t mind if she dressed casually.

Lilian owed so much to Nelson. She had come to his office one day in response to an ad for an executive assistant. Over the course of the interview she knew she had impressed him, at least for her looks. Nelson had convinced her quickly, however, that she wasn’t sharp enough to be an executive. He suggested another position more appro- more approp—, well, like a better job for a girl like her. Lilian agreed to the new job right then and there. She couldn’t believe her good luck.

Nelson was a swell guy to work for. He had the most marvellous eyes. When he spoke to her, his eyes seemed to twinkle merrily, like they had disco balls flashing inside. Lilian could listen to him talk all day, just so she could gaze into those limpid, twinkling eyes. Sometimes she even forgot to listen to what he was saying. When she thought about it later, she always realized he was right.

So, it seemed, did everybody else. Lilian wasn’t exactly sure what Nelson did for a living. He certainly did well at it. Most of the giddy, gorgeous, girl-tarts wiggling about his downtown office didn’t seem to have much to do, save for some filing and answering the phones. At least they got to dress nice; not like in the dreary offices where Lilian used to work.

Nelson sold investments of some sort. He held seminars at his office. The girls would serve drinks and snacks and look pretty in their miniskirts for the rich men in suits who came to hear the pitch. Nelson would give an electronic presentation, with like, charts and stuff.

Lilian didn’t think the investments were all that great, really. She had seen the presentation a couple of times when she was delivering something to the office. The what-yama-callit, the . . .. return on investment, that was it, the return didn’t really seem all that good, after you subtracted Nelson’s fee. Yet all the suits in the room listened to Nelson’s speech, looking into his merry, twinkling eyes, and heartily agreed that his investment was a great idea. Sometimes they wrote out big cheques right there. That just proved what Nelson was always telling her, that she had no head for business. He was right about so many things.

Fortunately, she was blessed with a mouth-watering bod that more than compensated for her empty blonde head. Really, why should she worry herself about all that drivel she had supposedly learned in business school, when she could be having fun instead? All a girl like her needed was a tight sweater, a leather mini, and a fetching giggle and men would do anything for her. Let Nelson worry about interest rates and stock markets and all that stuff. All she had to do was a bit of cooking and cleaning. Nelson paid her a good rate (all of which she spent on sexy clothes) and even provided a snazzy new sports car. The car was so much fun she had to regularly suck off cops to avoid speeding tickets.

Lilian felt a little guilty sometimes, about taking advantage of Nelson’s good nature. He was too good to her. When she had first started, she had tried to keep up on the business news and stuff like that. Whenever she tried to report something to Nelson, she found herself gazing deeper and deeper into those twinkling, winkling eyes until she simply forgot what she was saying. Then she would just stand there, giggling.

“Don’t worry about it, Lily,” Nelson always told her, “Business is complicated. You’re too pretty to be wasting your time trying to remember all those details. Here, take the company charge card. Go get yourself some new boots. You’ll feel better when you’ve taken care of yourself.”

He was right, of course. A little shopping always made Lilian feel better. Sometimes, if she bought something really hot, she got so worked up thinking about how good she would look wearing it, she had to dash into a washroom and finger herself. Nelson told her that was fine too.

“It’s natural for a hot-blooded babe like you to crave sex,” he explained to her. “Especially after you have been trying to suppress your natural desires by thinking too much. Go ahead, relax, let yourself be horny.” Lilian had just looked at him, tittering as she lost herself in those endlessly twinkling eyes, and realized she desperately needed a good fuck.

Nelson helped her with that too.

It was Nelson who suggested, after a divinely satisfying nooner in his office one day, that she might be happier as a blonde. “Your dark hair is lovely my Silly-Lily,” he said, doing up his pants, “but I think blonde is more suited to your personality. Everybody knows blondes are for fun. Nobody expects a blonde bimbo to do anything harder than remembering her bra size. Why don’t you give it a try.”

“Mmmmm, yeah, I wanna be blonde,” Lilian agreed, gazing into his eyes. Twinkle, twinkle. She was sprawled limply across his big desk, still coming down from the fuck, and now getting back up again from the thought of transforming herself into a busty blonde bimbo. She made the appointment right there, from Nelson’s phone, leaning over the desk while her obliging employer did her a second time from behind.

Back in her plush bedroom, Lilian closed her eyes for a moment, remembering. Nelson was such a good fuck. There was something about the way he moved in her, on her, that simply drove her crazy with pleasure. Sometimes she could hardly stop cumming. Funny, it seemed like he had almost told her to expect the greatest romp of her life before he bedded her the first time. But that was ridiculous. How could anyone become a great lay just by telling the lucky girl how much she was going to enjoy it? Besides, Nelson would never boast like that. She thought about his marvellous eyes for a moment. She moaned quietly.

After a minute, she shook herself. Any more daydreaming and she would be back in bed with her favourite vibrator. There was work to be done. She slipped on some neon pink underthings. She paused to study her reflection in one of the five full-length mirrors around the room. Not bad. The uplift brassiere was pretty. It displayed her impressive chest quite nicely. The little panties were more of a decoration for her ass than a real piece of underwear.

She spent some time admiring herself in the mirror. Lilian loved mirrors. She never missed an opportunity to make sure she looked her best. Once she had actually missed an appointment at the hairdresser because she got so distracted admiring herself in a shop window. Nelson said it was perfectly natural for a blonde bombshell to be a little vain. So of course it didn’t trouble her at all. Why shouldn’t she adore her delicious bod? Everybody else did.

Satisfied with her underthings, Lilian stepped into a casual dress for the day. It was fire-engine red and quite tight, of course. The sleek vinyl practically made love to her continuous curves. The dress was low scooped across the front so the uplift brassiere wouldn’t be wasted. It had another cutout across her flank, baring an unexpected expanse of tanned skin. Dresses like this one were the reason Lilian never bought her own drinks or dinner and seldom paid cab fare.

There was nothing like a great pair of tits to make men horny and malleable. Lilian remembered the time a special investor (which meant specially rich) came by the house for the evening. Nelson had asked her to make him feel at home. He arrived in a chauffeured limousine, accompanied by his pretty young wife. Pretty, but no match for Lilian.

Lilian had met them at the door in a fantasy maid’s outfit that displayed her tempting titties to about an inch above the nipples. The investor, a sophisticated fellow with a long white moustache, had been goggle-eyed instantly. His wife, on the other hand, was seething, especially after Lilian chose to ignore her and link arms with her husband. She led him into the drawing room, walking carefully in her five-inch patent heels, letting wifey follow along behind.

Things hadn’t gotten any better as the evening proceeded. Mr. moneybags was a horny old goat. Lilian soon had him helplessly turned on. His wife, on the other hand, remained cold and bitter, even after Lilian tried flirting with her a little. “Lyle! Behave yourself,” she snarled, whenever his eyes wandered to where Lilian’s see-through uniform invited them to roam. What a cold shower.

Lilian fixed her soon enough. When it was time to refresh their drinks, Lilian simply made the wife’s strong enough to fuel a jet plane. She added lots of fruits and spices to cover the alcohol, then kept the glass topped up until the poor girl couldn’t see straight. Lolling in her chair, her hair falling loose, she drained her glass, murmured something that sounded like, “. . . room iz spinnnnning,” then passed out on the floor.

With witchy-wifey out of the way, Lilian could concentrate on doing something about that intriguing lump in Moneybag’s trousers. He was too worked up to protest when she slipped in beside him on the sofa and boldly began to slide down his zipper. Nelson told her once (twinkle, twinkle) that she had natural blow-job lips. She put them to good use on the old man’s wang. In a few minutes she had him gasping and bucking and calling her an angel.

Just as he was about to come in her mouth his wife woke up. She looked around blearily, slurred “Lyle b’have y’shelf!” and passed out again. Lyle didn’t even notice. Lilian was pretty sure she could have convinced him to invest before Nelson even gave his presentation.

Back in her bedroom, Lilian smiled at the memory. She sat down on her king-size, canopied bed. She pulled on a pair of red, fine-meshed stockings to go with the red vinyl dress. Even hanging around home, she was hardly about to go bare-legged. Then she stepped into a pair of casual red slippers. Actually, the slippers were platform slides with transparent acrylic heels and red fur along the vamp. They were just the thing for idling about the house. Nelson preferred that she wear sandals or boots when she went out.

Nelson had done so much for her. He had helped her realize her destiny as a ditsy blonde sexdoll instead of a drab, serious drone pretending she had an MBA. It was he who suggested the exercise program to keep her succulent form in peak condition.

It had been Lilian’s own idea to skip underthings beneath her lycra bodystockings and leave the drapes open for the benefit of the neighbours. She was quite certain now that the handsome kid across the alley was wanking himself silly every evening while he watched her workouts. He certainly didn’t seem to be getting any homework done. Did he realize that his father watched every night too, from the window in his study? Nelson with his twinkling, laughing eyes had revealed to Lilian the intoxicating power of being a man-melting sexpot.

Most important of all, Nelson had saved her from Rebecca.

Her old school chum had dropped in unexpectedly one day, back when Lilian was still maintaining the facade of working at Nelson’s office. They had hardly seen each other since graduation. Rebecca was the head of accounts in some posh import business, making megabucks and wearing pinstripe pantsuits. She was frankly shocked when she had seen Lilian. Her hair was still brown back then, but she had begun to dress in the flashy, sexy styles all the other girls wore around the office.

“Good god Lily, how can you walk around dressed like that!” Rebecca had exclaimed.

“Oh it’s easy,” Lilian replied. “There’s a little strap here so the heels don’t slip off. You hafta walk kinda slow, but—” Only then did she realize her friend was being rhetor—rhetoric—like when you ask a question but don’t really mean it. Lilian was actually dressed in a suit that day. It was upbeat tangerine instead of the boring black Rebecca was wearing, and a whole lot shorter too. There was a kind of orange blouse that went with it, but that was still hanging in Lilian’s closet.

Rebecca acted worried. She took Lilian out to lunch and asked her what was going on. Lilian tried to explain things to her, how she had hoped for a management position until Nelson explained that being an executive was like, way hard and never any fun and didn’t even give you time to shop. She said she was lots happier doing simpler things around the office and like, helping Nelson at home. She explained how she had cancelled her subscription to the Wall Street Journal because there was no fashion section.

Rebecca became very serious then. She looked at Lilian across the table and told her something was wrong. “They’re doing something to you, don’t you see. You’re being brainwashed. This Nelson person, whoever he is, he’s messing with your head. You have to get away from here, now!”

“Why would I do that? I just got a raise!” She took a sip of her second drink.

“Lilian, listen to me. This isn’t you. You’re not like this. You are one of the brightest, most ambitious women I know. You aren’t some frivolous sextoy in an orange miniskirt for god’s sake.”

“It’s more like tangerine.”

“Lily, don’t you remember college? Your business courses? The debating society? Capturing the math medal? Come on, Lily, think!”

It had been a long time since anybody had asked Lilian to do that. It did seem rather peculiar, when she stopped to think about it. She had worked very hard back in university. She was like, smart. Why had she forgotten that? What happened to her dream of running her own company some day? Maybe Rebecca was right: something didn’t add up.

Over the course of the next hour Rebecca convinced her she had to get away. She wasn’t sure what was going on, but she needed time to think things out. Away from Nelson and his mesmerizing, twinkly eyes. They decided to drop by her apartment (she hadn’t moved in with Nelson yet) and pack a few things, then take off. Lilian was very nervous.

It was entirely coincidence that Nelson stopped by the restaurant with a client. The head waitress was on him in seconds, all smiles. Nelson brought clients here regularly. Maybe he was the reason all the waitresses were in micro-skirts and boots. It was very good for business.

“Look, over there, that’s Nelson,” Lilian whispered.

“Which one? The guy in the dark suit? OK, quick, let’s get out before—damn, he’s coming toward us.”

Nelson smiled as he approached the table. “Lilian, didn’t expect to bump into you out here,” he said. “Taking a lunch out? It’s a fine day for it. Oh, who’s this now?”

“Uh, Nelson, this is my friend Rebecca. Listen, Nelson, I think—”

“Rebecca. My pleasure.” He extended a hand. Lilian watched her fall into those laughing, sparkling eyes.

She and Becky were still good friends. Becky had quit her old job and moved out here to work for Nelson. She did something terribly important with Nelson’s investments. Sometimes they got together for lunch at the same restaurant. They would spend the afternoon telling stories and talking about men and sex and fucking and get falling down drunk.

They went shopping sometimes too. Becky had tossed her old pantsuits and decided never to wear black again. Even her umbrella was pink. She liked to dress like a fantasy schoolgirl, even around the office. The clients loved it.

“High school was the best years of my life, babe,” she told Lilian one day. “I wanna be fifteen like, forever!” She waited until a man in a suit was within range, then bent over fetchingly to adjust one yellow kneesock.

Lilian laughed to herself as she reflected on Becky’s awakening. Her friend was so much happier now. Lilian picked up her drink and made her way out to the living room. There was a little cleaning up to do. Sipping her drink, she ambled around the house, quite at ease in her platform slides, tidying and straightening. She was just fixing up the cover on one of the sofas when she heard the front door opening. Nelson must have come home early.

“Well, isn’t that a sight to come home to,” she heard him say. She giggled. He had caught her bent over to adjust a cover, with her bubblicious bum straining against the slick vinyl of her minidress. She hoped he liked what he saw.

She heard the unmistakeable sound of a zipper sliding down. She turned her head to look at him. She stuck one finger in her mouth girlishly. “Oh, Nelson, have I made you all uncomfortable? Would you like Silly-Lily to take care of that?”

He grinned. Lilian’s world became perfect as she fell away into those bottomless, twinkling eyes.