The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Are you absolutely sure this is my size, Sir?“

With some doubt on her pretty face, Bubbles closely examined herself in the mirror. Over and over her gaze kept drifting down towards her wide hips and luscious bottom, beautifully showcased by the tight, short pencil skirt she wore. Well, at least that was my opinion of how she looked in the skirt. Needless to say, tight short skirts were part of the school issued uniform and yes, admittedly, due to the stretchiness of the fabric, we did indeed give our students one or two sizes smaller than usual. Or “too” small, if you insist on putting it that way. Bubbles had noticed and pointed it out, but she’d have to deal with it. The skirt and its tightness were just right, according to the school’s dress code. No room for discussion there, no room for much of anything, tight as that garment was. Except for a pair of lovely well rounded… well, you get the picture. I saw no sense discussing it with the still insecure girl.

“Absolutely, Bubbles” I reassured her. “That’s definitely your size and if I may say so, the ensemble looks stunning on you. Really, sweetie, you fill it out rather nicely. No need to worry.”

Her eyes peered back up to meet mine and she gave me a quizzical look. “Thank you Sir. It’s just… the skirt… it feels a little tight.”

“Hmm… well, it’s a designer skirt.” I explained, trying to sound convincing and dissolve her doubts. “It’s supposed to be a little tight, you know.”

She furrowed her brows. “But this isn’t just a little tight, Sir! It totally clings to my hips, like a second skin! And it’s awfully short as well! What sort of secretary walks around like this?” She asked, gesturing at her delightfully exposed legs.

I just nodded, letting my gaze wander down those shapely legs. She did have a point, the skirt was very short and very tight. And it looked very good on her.

“A good secretary.” I stated firmly, hoping she’d just accept it and giggle her doubts away like the more experienced girls would do in such a situation.

Instead, she rolled her eyes sarcastically. “Yeah, right. Good secretary. Good at getting herself laid maybe.” She gave me a sly grin. Added, “with all due respect, Sir.”

“Well honey,” I said as earnestly as possible. “Be that as it may, a secretary would love wearing skirts like this one.”

She blinked her eyes. Something was going on inside her head that she wasn’t yet familiar with. I paused, giving her subsconscious mind a couple seonds to recognize and obey the trigger.

“I love wearing skirts like this one.” She blurted out after a couple seconds, with a surprised look on her face.

“See?” I remarked with a smirk. Good, her triggers seemed to be in place.

“Well… but…” She stammered, probably wondering why she felt so fuzzy all of a sudden, or maybe trying to remember what exactly had just been upset about. “The skirt… it’s nice. I mean, I love it. But… isn’t it kind of… making my butt look big?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at that concern of hers. It seemed utterly ridiculous to me that a girl would feel insecure about having an ass like hers. I mean, it was pretty much perfect. Sure, the skirt sort of emphasized it… almost obscenely, as one might say. It put her ass on display, but so what? It was a sexy skirt after all and sexy skirts are designed to do that to sexy asses. It was clearly a positive thing, something to be proud of.

I noticed that she was blushing hotly and instantly felt a little guilty. I should do something to help her, I figured. Or at least say something encouraging.

“Sweetie, as I said before, the skirt looks fantastic on you. Especially on… uhm… well, that whole… area that you mentioned, honey.“

She frowned. “You mean you like how it makes my butt look big?“

Now it was my turn to blush. “No! I didn’t say that!” I protested.

Her frown only deepened. “Oh, so you don’t like it? You think I’m ugly? Fat?!“

Jesus tapdancing christ! This stunner of a girl was actually feeling self conscious about her body. It was insane!

“No!", I said. “I just meant… jeez, it looks good on you is all. Okay? End of story.”

She didn’t look very convinced. For lack of anything better to say, I added “A secretary would be proud of having an ass like that and love it when her outfit helps showing it off.“

She looked dumbfounded. Then, a hint of indignation crept up on her face.

“What?!” She exclaimed, visibly taken aback, but also a little confused.

I felt my heart rate increasing. Had I pushed things too far? Sure, she had already been through her first trance session, she should be open for suggestions from her teacher, but maybe a suggestion that bold was a little too much for her at this point… damn, I cursed to myself, I used to be more careful about these things…

Thankfully, after a couple seconds, her facial muscles seemed to relax and it looked like the suggestion had taken hold. A warm smile formed on her face. I sighed with relief and politely smiled back at her. Nothing better than a pretty girl learning to have confidence in her body, I told myself.

“I’m proud of having an ass like this and I love when my outfit helps showing it off. Gawd, I so do!” She announced suddenly, beaming with joy and pride. “This skirt is just perfect!“

I let out a sigh of relief. “Good girl.”

She moaned softly as her pleasure trigger kicked in as well.

“Is there anything else I can do for you sweetie?” I asked

“Nopies” she replied, giggling to herself and turning to leave. “Just wanted to make sure my uniform was the right size. Thanks for the help, Mister Anderson.”

I nodded. “You’re very welcome honey.” I said, almost failing to notice that I was pretty much talking to her ass now. She giggled again as she noticed, which made me blush. I forcibly tore my eyes away and looked at her face. “Bye for now, see you in class Bubbles.”

She nodded, turned, and again I couldn’t help but stare. I followed the girl’s amazingly perfect tush down the hallway with my eyes, until she disappeared around the corner. Caughing nervosuly, I rearranged some things in my trousers, where it was getting a little tight.

“Richard!”

I spun around, facing a stern looking Miss Holloway. Involuntarily, I swallowed. I had not doubt it was audible. “Hello and good morning Miss Holloway!” I said, trying to add a bit of extra sugar to my voice just in case.

“Morning.” She replied coldly, clearly frowning upon my attempt at sweet-talking. “Would you mind telling me what on earth has gotten into Bubbles today?”

Once more I couldn’t help but swallow. Had something gone wrong with her after all? Something I wasn’t aware of?

“Bubbles? You mean new girl?” I asked, trying to come off as innocent as possible. It didn’t work.

“Yes”, Miss Holloway said rolling her eyes sarcastically. “There is exactly one girl at this school whose name is Bubbles. That’s the one I mean.”

“Of… of course, Miss Holloway.”

“So tell me, Richard. What’s up with her? I just passed her in the hall. She’s prancing around like some sort of pencil skirted prom queen.”

“Well she is a little prom queen, isn’t she?” I remarked.

“No she’s not. She’s a secretary. Secretary in training, to be precise. Prom queens wear dresses. Secretaries wear pencil skirts. At least at this school they do.”

“Yes. And she’s a hottie. You said it yourself. Nothing wrong with a hottie prancing around a little, is there?”

“A little? Richard, have you seen her walk? The way she’s swaying those hips?”

I nodded, remembering the sight. “Oh yes, I have. Mesmerizing. I mean, metaphorically speaking.”

“Yes. Well, Richard, see—that’s not good. Not for a freshman who’s barely been entranced so far.”

“Oh? How exactly is it not good for a freshman girl to have some basic self confidence in her body?”

“Beacuse Richard. This is a typing school, not a goddamn modeling agency. We create submissive hypnotized secretaries. Submissive! Not self assured princesses who know they can get everything with their magnificient bodies.”

“Oh. I think I see your problem. And you expect that she might not end up submissive enough because I remarked that she has a nice ass?”

“Please, I’m fairly sure you did a little more than just remark things. Like, for example, use triggers to reinforce those remarks. Didn’t you?”

“Well yes I did. Made her feel some pride, you know.”

“Pride?”

“Yes, pride. She used to feel self conscious. About… that ass of hers.”

Miss Holloway couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “So? Most girls feel that way. Richard, why couldn’t you leave her like that, riddled with unfounded insecurities, until we manage to control her properly?”

“But it was ridiculous that of all girls she should be feeling that way about herself. Plus, we can still control her.“

“I sincerely hope you can. Because that’s your job, Richard.“

“I know Miss and I assure you, I’m getting it done.”

“Good. So please be a dear and take her down a couple notches. Okay? It’s inappropriate for a freshman girl to walk that way. She has to learn her place first before she can use her body to turn heads.”

“Okay Miss. Although I doubt I can make her stop turning heads. Not with that body.”

“You know what I mean. Work your magic. As long as you manage to make her into a subby little office grope toy somehow, I’ll be ever so happy with your work. Okay Richard?”

“Yes…” I said, frowning for some reason about the term “office grope toy”. However delicious that sounded, something about turning an intelligent, confident girl into it still felt wrong.

“Good boy.”

“Thank you Miss.”

“Bubbles, can you hear me?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Are you hypnotized?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Deeply?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Will you obey my words without thought?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Good girl.”

She smiled calmly. Even as she sat there before me with her eyes closed, deeply entranced, her body somehow still seemed eager to impress. The way she arched her back a little more each time I walked past her during the induction… I was almost sure she was doing it on purpose.

But of course, that was impossible. I had her under hypnosis. Shaking off my doubts, I proceeded to carefully place the pendant back in my desk drawer, trying not to make too much sound.

“Tell me, how do you feel about yourself, Bubbles?”

“Sleepy.”

I grinned. “I mean, how do you feel about your body?”

“Mmm… good. Sexy.”

“Oh that’s good. Sexy is good. But what makes you feel particularly sexy, Bubbles?”

“My ass.” She replied without hesitation. “I’m proud of my ass.”

Of course she was. I grinned to myself. Funny how a single suggestion could turn shame into pride so easily.

“Why are you proud of your ass, sweetie?” I asked.

“Because people notice it. I realized that’s a good thing. People like looking at my ass.”

“And you enjoy their attention?”

“Yes Sir. Very much.”

I bit down on my lip, pondering what to do in order to “take her down a notch” as Miss Holloway hat put it. Maybe lessen her ass-pride a little without making her feel insecure again. But how?

“Do you think it’s appropriate for you to feel that way?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Why?”

“Because I was hypnotized to feel this way.”

“You mean, being hypnotized to do things makes them okay?”

“Yes Sir.”

“So if I, for example, hypnotized you into clucking like a chicken.”

“Yes…”

“Would that be okay too?”

“It would be silly.”

“Probably. But would it be okay for you to do so?”

“Yes, if you hypnotized me to cluck like a chicken, it would be okay. But it would still be silly. Secretaries don’t do that.”

Something struck me about that response from her. She seemed to have a clear image of what secretaries do and what they don’t do. Which was odd, since I hadn’t really gotten around to implanting such thoughts into her mind.

“No sweetie. Ususally not. But still, sometimes secretaries need to do silly things on command, you know, just to learn their place.”

“Oh… okay…”

“Do you know what your place is as a secretary?”

“Like… behind my desk?”

“No I mean… in the office hierarchy?”

“Oh. Uhm… way at the bottom I guess.” She said, biting her lower lip. I couldn’t tell if what she said was bothering her or turning her on.

“Yes sweetie. A secretary must be helpful, sexy and obedient towards her coworkers.”

“Mmm. I can be helpful and sexy Sir.”

“And obedient?”

She nodded eagerly. A little too eagerly for my taste. “Yes Sir, that’s what you hypnotized me for. Right?”

“Right. But obedience doesnt’s just take place under hypnosis, or when you’re triggered. A secretary would... love to obey at all times.”

“I love to obey at all times.” She parroted.

“Even if orders or suggestions are silly, you obey them.”

“Yes Sir.”

“Good. In a related matter, you feel an overwhelming urge to cluck like a chicken.”

“Yes Sir. I mean, cluck cluck!”

She flapped her arms, which I hadn’t suggested.

“Bubbles.” I said sternly.

“Cluck?”

“Are you still hypnotized?”

“Cluck cluck!” She said, nodding.

I wasn’t fully convinced.

“There are balloons attached to your wrists and they are tugging on them, pulling them upwards.” I suggested, closely observing her arms.

Sure enough, they began to rise.

“Good. Now, at the count of three, I will pop the balloons and your hands will sink back down. One two three, pop!”

Her hands fell back onto the desk surface.

“Cluck.” She commented.

“You can speak normally again.”

“Yes Sir.”

I shrugged off my doubts. She was obviously still hypnotized. Why had I even worried?

“I want you to learn a new trigger word.”

“Yes Sir.”

“Do you have a pen?”

“Yes Sir, a good secretary always carries a pen. Shall I write something down?”

“No. Just tell me, where do you keep your pen?”

“Here, clipped to the waistband of my skirt. See?”

“Mhm. very good. That’s a good place.”

“Thank you Sir.”

“And from now on whenever anyone around you says the word ‘Butterfingers’, your hands will reach for that pen, take it and let it fall onto the floor.”

“Oh. Okay, yes Sir.”

“It will happen without thought. Your body will just do it and it will feel like a clumsy little accident to you.”

“Yes Sir. Clumsy little accident.”

“Whenever you hear the word ‘Butterfingers’ from now on, you will drop your pen onto the floor and believe it was an accident.”

“Yes Sir.”

“Even when it happens several times in a row, it’ll not strike you as unusual. You’re just a clumsy secretary who sometimes drops her pen.”

“Yes Sir. I’m a clumsy secretary.”

“You feel a little ashamed for being so clumsy. You know it’s not a big deal, but still, it’s embarrassing.”

“Yes Sir…”

“And whenever you drop your pen, for any reason, you will feel the strongest urge to pick it up.”

“Yes Sir. Of course Sir.”

“Good girl.”

“Mmm. Thank you Sir.”

“You’re very welcome. Let this session be forgotten now. No need for you to remember it consciously.”

“No Sir. No need.”

“Awaken on the count of three. One, Two, Three!”

Her eyes popped open. “Mmm that was nice.” She commented.

“I’m glad. Now for the hard part.” I said. “Bubbles, please step forth.”

She complied, getting up from her seat, walking over and then, facing my desk, she straightened down her skirt and smiled politely.

“You’re a lovely girl.” I said.

“Thank you Sir.”

“You’ll become a great secretary.”

“Mmm… I hope so Sir.”

“I know so. But there is one thing…”

“One thing? What is it Sir?”

“You’re kind of a butterfingers.”

“What?”

With a clicking noise, her pen hit the ground.