The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Running in High Heels

By Sean Flynn

The candidate struck a regal pose while her handlers buzzed about the cramped television studio. Her nose stood proudly parallel with the floor while her eyes stared straight ahead at the camera. Meanwhile, a 23-year-old reporter waited nervously in the corner for someone to tell him what to do.

Michael clutched his blue note cards across his chest. They were his security blanket, tangible proof that he was prepared for this interview. But his twitching caused his jacket to tent up over his shoulders and made him feel like a 12-year-old in an ill-fitting suit. He told himself to relax but as he watched an aide touch up the woman’s make-up her gaze fell on his and squirmed all over again.

Though the presumed presidential candidate was a lightning rod for controversy, everyone on all sides of the political spectrum marveled at her most obvious assets. The Cinemax naughty librarian jokes were right on target because even while she sat in a white and yellow stripped sofa chair, like something out of All in the Family, the former governor oozed flirty sexy appeal.

The small television studio was dressed to be folksy yet professional. A large American flag towered to the candidate’s left. Laura Paylen could not give even one interview without draping herself in the flag. Michael pictured her lying on her back, her brown curls sprawled behind her, while she snuggled seductively with the stars and stripes over her naked body, a pair of red high heels sticking out the bottom.

He smirked. Mrs. Paylen would not approve of that image, her views on flag “desecration” being so rigid.

“Here are your talking points, ma’am,” a young staffer came over with a set of her own note cards. Mrs. Paylen waved away the make-up girl. She snatched the notes from the intern and flipped through them quickly, her face scowling.

“Who prepared these?” Paylen demanded. The girl shook her head in a combination of fear and ignorance. Paylen threw them onto the floor. “It was Glenn’s people, wasn’t it? I have told those people a million times not to treat me like a retard. It’s gone on long enough. I want a one-on-one meeting with Glenn. He needs to learn his place in this operation.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the intern collected the cards of the carpet and slinked out of the room.

“Now where is this reporter?” Paylen asked.

“I’m right here, Madam Governor,” Michael stepped forward. Paylen’s expression changed instantly. She flashed her best beauty queen smile.

“Looks like you already have a scoop. Ex-governor throws tantrum.”

“That’s not the story I care about,” he answered as he took his chair across from her’s. “That would be just…you know…”

“Gotcha journalism?” Paylen laughed and reached across the seat to touch his thigh.

Michael smiled back. He could not believe that someone with designs for the country’s highest public office would be so indifferent to the risk of a live mic in a television studio or that a reporter might travel armed with a running tape recorder. Or simply that everything she said was on the record. How had she gotten this far?

A slight glance lower and Michael had his answer. She was gently swaying her stiletto pump as she crossed her right leg over her left. She wore a tasteful gray skirt with a very conservative jacket. She displayed no cleavage but she did not need to. Her long, tanned legs and firm calves along with shiny, almond-toed 4-inch gray pumps were enough to bring men to their knees. Then there were those sexy smart glasses and playful brown bangs.

“Before we start, I have to thank you for giving me this…” Opportunity? No, he had to been more courteous than that. “…honor, Governor Paylen. I know I had heavy competition for this interview and I am overwhelmed by your trust.”

“You are cute,” she responded.

“We are ready anytime you two are,” a studio technician announced as he closed the studio door behind him.

Michael looked around, confused. He certainly did not have much experience in television journalism but where were the camera operators? The floor manager?

“Relax, Michael,” Paylen assured him. “Everything’s fine.”

“Shouldn’t there be more people for this?”

“Don’t worry. They can hear and see everything from the control room. It’s more intimate this way. Pretend it’s just you and me.”

Michael smiled and watched her stiletto pump rocking gently. He thought back to a few nights ago when he shared drinks with a group of like-minded colleagues. They were there to offer their support before he left for the biggest assignment of his young journalism career.

“Let’s all drink to Michael,” Tony proposed. “To our colleague who stands on the cusp of being a famous, world-renowned footnote in presidential history.” Michael laughed humbly and then turned away while Tony got drunker and more aggressive in his flirting with his journalism school intern. Meg may have only been a couple years his junior, but an intern was still an intern.

“Don’t listen to Tony,” Cooper spoke to their small group sitting at the far end of the bar. Michael took a thoughtful drink of his beer before answering.

“I’m not offended. A footnote isn’t anything to laugh about. I’ll have to make a splash to qualify as a footnote in the next election.”

“In that case, just try to avoid asking her what kind of tree she’d be,” Chloe, Cooper’s girlfriend, said.

“She’d be all of them, duh,” Jenny said.

Michael put his hand on his girlfriend’s knee. He loved her sense of humor. He looked forward to later tonight, their last night together for nearly a week. He looked forward to fucking the most popular girl in “school.”

Michael had met Jenny in this very same bar nearly 6 months ago, just a few weeks after moving to the city. Jenny was the undisputed queen of their circle. They were mostly recent transplants, all lucky enough to have secured a foot-hold on the bottom rungs of the media industry less than a year after graduating from college. Jenny was an account assistant with a lobbying firm. Michael and Cooper worked together at the Post-Times. Chloe ran the website of a prominent environmental advocacy organization.

In addition to his political beat reporting, Michael edited a left-leaning blog featuring former college newspaper editors. He had started the site while serving on Columbia’s official student daily paper and now he had “agents” spread across the country.

That network had helped Michael break the story that ex-Governor Laura Paylen would be passing through the city after leading an upstate protest rally. He had also learned that Paylen’s people were looking to do an interview with someone from the left blogosphere, someone she could use to showcase her message to young college students at elite east coast universities.

Michael had submitted his interview request as a joke and then been shocked when it was accepted. It took a few days and several phones calls before they convinced him that he wasn’t the victim of a vast right-wing prank.

“I just don’t understand why people think she’s that attractive,” Cooper said.

“You don’t think she’s hot?” Jenny exclaimed in surprise.

“Eh,” Cooper shrugged.

“I mean, I find her politics abhorrent, her ideas laughable, the possibility of her holding high office terrifying,” Michael rattled off a list of objections. “But…”

“But you’d still hit that,” Jenny squeezed his arm. “I think she’s beautiful.”

Cooper remained unconvinced. Michael was not surprised. He attributed Cooper’s position to his personal circumstances. Chloe was very pretty, but also a complete do-gooder hippie who most days dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Jenny, on the other hand, despite being equally bleeding heart, was very label conscious. Michael liked that about her. That night, Jenny wore a short black shirt and black peep-toe stilettos. She was an alpha girl, the first Michael had dated.

Michael thought of Jenny as he watched Paylen’s heel rock back and forth. Jenny was right. Paylen was hot as hell and he would fuck her if given the chance. But that would never happen, of course. He fumbled with the notes on his lap as he caught himself daydreaming at the start of his biggest career opportunity.

“First of all, Governor Paylen, how would you rate your trip upstate?” Shit, Michael mentally cursed his unfortunate rhyme.

“It was so exhilarating, Michael. The American people have so much passion for their country. When they see things happening that are contrary to our nation’s values, they don’t just sit there, they get involved. Of course it would be easier for them not to fight back. The federal government would just love it if they just sat there and relaxed. If they relaxed and obeyed.” She swung her right leg back and forth. Back and forth. Michael reminded himself not to let her bully him.

“Let’s talk about this movement you’re leading…”

“I’m not leading it, Michael. The American people are leading it. This is a truly nationwide, grassroots movement to take back our country from the government.”

“Yes…” Michael gave her credit. The willful ignorance for which many commentators criticized the sexy stateswoman made her a powerful force. She simply refused to acknowledge any reality she found inconvenient. Almost had to respect that amount of sheer will. As well as the courage to strut around in 4-inch stilettos on the campaign trail.

“I want to discuss what this movement is really about,” he said. “Because while you have criticized the President for running huge fiscal deficits, your movement was silent while the last administration also ran up giant debts.”

“What has changed is the sheer size of the deficits,” Paylen replied. She swung her very tanned calf back and forth. Again. Slowly. Back and forth. Michael often thought of her followers as sheep, but now he imagined them as truly brainwashed. He could imagine them being turned into mindless slaves as they simply watched her sexy, shiny high heels.

“This President has put this country on a dangerous path with more government involved in our private lives. The American people are not simply going to sit there and watch. They are not going to just relax and watch while their values are corrupted. That would be easy. If they just relaxed and watched and listened while someone in power, more powerful than them, commanded them want to do. You would like that, wouldn’t you, Michael?”

Yes, he would love that. “Ummm…no…” he said. “But the question is…” What was the question? He flipped through his notes but his vision was hazy and he had trouble reading his own handwriting. The last question was about what? Yes, the deficit and intruding onto people’s private lives.

“But if we are going to talk about intruding into people’s lives, the last administration created new government agencies with vast new powers to intrude into people’s private lives all for the name of national security.”

“Yes, but those laws were to protect our safety. Democrats forget that after 9/11, we entered a state of war. People wanted to feel safe. They needed someone strong to keep them safe. Liberals live in a fantasy world where everyone just obeys and gets what they want. Do you want to live in such a world, where you just lay back, relax and obey?”

“Umm…no….Governor Paylen, but the point is…”

“The point is, Michael,” she rocked the point of her heel. Back and forth. Even when she spoke with passion she maintained a sense of calm. A steady rhythm of her heel swaying back and forth. Back and forth. “The point is you feel safer when you trust someone more powerful. You feel better when you surrender to someone more powerful.”

“You want us to surrender to you?” Michael asked. He really wanted to give some attention to his erection. Just a light touch of his very hard dick would feel so good.

“Wait, I’m not falling for that,” Paylen smiled. “You want me to say I want people to surrender to me. You want me to admit that I’m trying to hypnotize people. That is what you liberal media types think. You believe all my supporters are just my obedient slaves. You believe that I hypnotize them to obey so that they are unable to resist my commands. They must obey me. They cannot resist me.”

“No…that’s not what I meant.”

“Oh really? So you think you could resist me, Michael?” she asked lifting her foot and resisting her stiletto in his crotch. That did not seem right. How would it look on television for people to see a conservative leader giving a foot job to a college aged reporter? But then he did not work in television. Maybe their polling data showed the heartland voters wanted to see Paylen toying with her a cocky, young reporter, getting his cock hard and then leaving him to drool over her sexy legs.

“Let’s talk about your economic policy.” He pushed against her foot and moaned as the sole of her heel massaged his cock and her heel rubbed underneath his scrotum. “You lambast the president for high deficits and yet you proposed sweeping tax cuts without mentioning which programs you would cut to pay for them. Are you advocating a return to supply-side economics, an approach that all relevant economic data has discredited?”

“You academic liberal types just enjoy thinking too much. You spend all your time reading and learning facts and analyzing data. Is that fun?”

“No…it’s not.” Michael admitted that. He had spent some time in college as a research assistant for an old, tenured professor and it had been some of the most boring work of his life.

“Sometimes you just know in your gut what feels right,” she flexed her ankle so her heel applied more pressure to Michael’s cock. That felt right. He slid closer to the edge of his chair so he could feel more of her heels. “Not everything can be explained by data. Sometimes something just feels so right you cannot resist no matter what your mind says.”

“Yeeees…yes…but, ooohhh…science…”

“Science has its limits, especially when it conflicts with our American values. You must not let science interfere with your relationship with God. It’s easier to believe in God’s will and not to think and worry about making sense of the world. Just believe what I tell you. I believe the Lord brought you to me because it’s your destiny to help me. It’s your destiny to kneel and serve me. And if it’s God’s will, there is no point in resisting, is there?”

God help him, but that did sound easy to Michael. Never mind that he had been an avowed atheist since he left high school. That left such a void. Serving God by serving Laura would be so much easier. He wouldn’t have to worry about concerns like the environment anymore. Besides, it was probably too late to stop anything. The tipping point he been reached. He could just serve Laura.

“I fight for people whose values I share and that’s why the follow me,” Laura continued. “You believe they only like me because I’m a sexy, gorgeous woman. They only follow me because they want to fuck me. You believe they just enjoy staring at my shiny, sexy stilettos. When men stare at me, they get hard and imagine fucking me. Then while they’re horny and hard, I command them and they obey. They must obey me. They cannot resist me.” Michael believed that.

“Yes…we will all resist you…”

“You’re still thinking, Michael. You should stop thinking and surrender. You want to serve me, please me. You want to worship. You worship on your knees. Try sinking to your knees. See how it feels.”

Michael knocked his notes to the side and crawled on the carpet. Laura was right. It felt right to be on his knees before her. So much easier to worship…to worship Laura. Easier to worship than to think…to think…think about…

“Taxes.”

“What’s that, Michael?”

“Your tax cuts…overwhelmingly favor the rich…”

“Yes, but rich people need more money. Rich women like me need money to buy fancy things, like expensive high heels. Look at my shiny pumps, Michael. You want to touch them. You want to lick them. You want to taste the leather. Serve me Michael by licking them. Serve me by sucking on my shiny, expensive, gray stiletto.” Michael lowered his face down to the carpet and placed his lips on the toe of her shoe. He salivated at the taste. Yes, Laura was right. Rich people needed nice things. Beautiful, sexy, sophisticated women like Laura needed designer shoes so men like Michael could worship at her feet.

“Yes, polish those heels. All my obedient slaves love to stare my expensive, designer, shiny high heels when they listen to my voice give them commands they are helpless to resist.”

Michael looked up at her with pleading eyes. He didn’t want to talk about anything. He just wanted to serve and suck on her beautiful, sexy, commanding stilettos. But war…so much death and waste. He should talk about it. It was wrong not to talk about it.

“I can’t…resist…war…”

“You’re still thinking too much. And talking too much. Is talking really how you want to use your tongue, especially since you can use it on so much else? You can keep licking my well-shod foot or you can lick up further.

Michael held her heel and placed his tongue on her ankle. He tasted her bare skin and began to move further up.

“Reach higher, Michael. You want to run your tongue all the way up my sexy legs. Between my thighs. You want to reach my pussy. You want to suck on my pussy…nibble at my clit…suck on my clit. You do not want to talk. You want to lick my pussy.”

Michael reached the apex of the governor’s thighs. Her crotch was exposed to the air, not even the thinnest of materials separating his lips and tongue from her most intimate regions. He smelled her arousal as he had often smelled Jenny’s arousal and every other girlfriend had ever fucked. She was a woman. A woman whose pussy he needed to eat.

“Mmmmmm,” Laura moaned. “Yes, Michael. Lick me. Push your tongue deep into my pussy. Lick up the folds and then to my clit. Suck on my clit. Suck firmly and gently. Ooooh…Michael, that’s good…Oh Jesus…You can’t talk now, Michael. Just listen. You believe in everything I believe in.”

Yes, he believed in everything Laura Paylen believed in. He did not want to talk. He had spent his entire life flapping his tongue and nothing had changed. The world would always be ruled by women like Laura. Pretty, popular, fashionable women like Laura.

She gripped the back of his head and forced his face deeper into her pussy. He inhaled deeply. The joys of being held close to power. Being on the outside looking in was pointless. He could accomplish so much more by being part of her inner circle.

“This is a very natural position for you, Michael. On your knees. Listening to my commands. Unable to use your tongue accept to give me pleasure. And you feel so much joy in this position. You want to be in this position all the time. You…Oooooh, yeah…you want to serve me all the time. You want to fuck me.”

He wanted to fuck her. He wanted to feel his cock in her pussy. Michael stood up, instantly missing the taste of Laura on his lips but excited for the possibilities that followed. Laura forcefully unfastened his belt and his suit pants fell to the floor. His cock beamed proudly from his underwear, grateful for access to fresh air.

“Fuck me, Michael,” Laura gripped his cock tightly and pulled it towards her dripping pussy. Michael had no time to object before his cock slide into her love tunnel. It had been so long since he had felt the sensation of pussy lips clenching directly over his skin, no latex barrier separating her warm, tight wetness from his rigid cock.

“This is how fucking was meant to be. Between a man and a woman. Skin on skin. A cock fucking a pussy. This is how it’s meant to be. This is why it feels the best.” Michael nodded. Laura was right. It felt incredible. He pumped in and out and she squeezed his ass so he went in deeper. “This is so much better than anything you’ve done on your own, isn’t it, Michael? Much better than the times you have jerked off while looking at my photos on your computer?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he moaned.

“I want you to cum inside me,” she wailed. “Cum inside of me.” Michael slowed down. His mind could not comprehend the risks but his body instinctively hesitated. Laura urged him on. “Cum inside me, Michael. Use your cock juice for its rightful purpose. Fill me with your cum. Make me pregnant. That pleases, you Michael. Think how proud you’ll be when you see me carrying your child. You’ll be so proud seeing President Paylen carrying your child. And I’ll be so proud, too. I wouldn’t be fucking you if I didn’t want your baby inside me. That’s why this fucking feels so good. Because it fulfills the Lord’s plan for us.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Michael grunted and sped up his efforts. Unused to fucking without a condom and thrusting so rapidly, he raced towards the finish. Laura did not seem to mind. On the contrary, she wanted his cum now. He didn’t have to worry about holding back, about her orgasm. Jenny was so demanding on that front. Laura just wanted the male orgasm needed to populate the world. “Now cum for me, Michael. CUM!”

Michael braced himself and shot into her pussy. He groaned as his cock spasmed white hot sticky cum. He felt it coating her pussy wall, his semen mixing with her juices. He felt completely drained and he lowered his body on top of her. She used her hidden strength to push him back. His cock popped out of her pussy as she dropped him back on his own chair.

Laura stood up and brushed down her skirt. Michael watched her as he fought off the lure of sleep. He had just fucked the woman he considered practically evil. One couldn’t fuck the devil and then say he’s only kidding.

“That’s was an awesome effort, Michael,” she brushed his hair. “Sleep now and then later we’ll talk about how you can help persuade your blogger friends to give me more fair and balanced coverage.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Michael said. His vision grew cloudy as Mrs. Paylen’s handlers streamed back into the room. He could see their forms speaking but could not hear any of their words. Nobody seemed particularly concerned with his presence. Naturally, Laura Paylen was the center of their attention. Hmm, Michael smiled softly to himself at the irony. He had sacrificed all of his values for the sake of fucking a beautiful woman. Lust had cost him his soul. Turned out the conservatives were right all along.

The End