The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

3:

I wasn’t sure whether to be alarmed to relieved when Michelle came into work the next day, wearing the exact same clothes as the day before.

Well, not the exact same clothes—the blouse that she’d been wearing yesterday was currently sitting in my desk drawer—but it was certainly a pencil skirt and white blouse. Lisa and Olivia were dressed similarly, although Lisa’s skirt was more of a dark grey.

I stayed in my office most of the morning, not sure how to proceed. I could hardly tell Michelle that her outfit was unprofessional…and after the conversation the previous day, I didn’t know what she’d do if I did.

And so I hid until lunchtime, when I had to check some numbers with Olivia. None of the girls looked up—as usual, they all looked like they were being spectacularly productive…which was good, since I hadn’t gotten anything done all morning.

As I was talking to Olivia, Michelle looked up and made eye-contact. I tried to keep my facial expression neutral, and gave her a friendly nod…which she seemed to interpret as some kind of signal.

Without saying a word, she stood up, unbuttoned her blouse, and hung it over the back of her chair, continuing work wearing nothing but a bra. Olivia and Lisa looked curiously at her, and then back at me…and I suspect my neutral face was well-and-truly gone, because as soon as they saw the way I was staring at their co-worker, both of them stood up and removed their tops as well.

“Ladies…” I said desperately, and at the obedient glance that I got in response, my words died in my mouth. To my surprise, all three of them seemed to be wearing matching bras—lacy black numbers, which highlighted and apparently enlarged the size of their tits.

I didn’t say another thing, just returned to my office, where I continued to hide out for the rest of the afternoon, occasionally peering out at the three semi-topless women working in my office.

It was quickly becoming clear that something was up, but I didn’t have the faintest clue how to deal with it. “Employees start stripping” brought up a lot of example videos, but no helpful results, and it seemed that every time I talked to one of the girls, I just made it worse. There wasn’t anyone else I could really talk to about it, not without sounding crazy, and so I just continued to lurk in my office, unwillingly nursing an erection caused by my employee’s breasts.

Michelle was definitely the largest of the three—Lisa looked like she couldn’t be more than a B-cup, and Olivia was only slightly bigger, with tits roughly the size of my ex. I couldn’t get over what was happening—I’m not normally a tit man, but three women suddenly showing off their assets was starting to change that.

By five p.m., I knew I had to do something or I’d just never be able to get any work done, ever again.

“Ladies,” I said, opening my door and addressing them directly. “My office. Now.”

As they filed in and sat down, another difference in their behavior quickly became apparent. Normally they would chat and joke as they worked or came into a meeting, but today was different. They entered silently, sat down, and silently looked at me expectantly.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” I said, and paused in the hope that they’d offer an explanation.

No such luck.

“…but things can’t keep going on like this,” I continued, after a few seconds of silence. All three of them nodded in unison, and I couldn’t help but notice their boobs bounce slightly as they did.

They were sitting identically as well, I suddenly realized—shoulders back, chests thrust proudly forward, but somehow without any confidence in their stance. They looked like they were desperately showing off, as though they wanted nothing more but to win my approval.

“I can’t have you walking around in your bras, guys,” I said, and a shy smile came across each of their faces.

“Of course, sir,” they trilled at the same time, and before I could say another word, reached behind themselves and undid their bras. Six beautiful breasts appeared in front of me simultaneously, and my brain was suddenly unable to process anything else.

Like I said, I’m not predominantly a tit man, but when three beautiful women offer them to you at the same time, it’s hard not to appreciate them. Michelle’s had a bit of sag to them, but they were topped off by two huge, beautiful brown nipples. Lisa’s were the smallest, but they stood proudly on her chest, pertly presenting me with two of the longest nipples I’d ever seen.

And Olivia’s…I swear, if I didn’t know better, I’d guess that Olivia and my ex-wife had gone to the same plastic surgeon. I could see a slight scar underneath each of Olivia’s tits, but as far as I was concerned, the fact that they were fake didn’t make them any less amazing.

While I goggled at the sudden display of boobs in front of me, the girls all blushed, and those shy smiles returned.

“Will that be all?” Lisa finally said, breaking the silence.

“No,” I said, finally regaining control of my faculties. “Girls…ladies…you’ve got to…you can’t be topless in the office.”

A look of confusion came across the girl’s faces, but none of them said anything.

“You need to put tops on—now. That’s an order.”

None of them moved. I wasn’t really sure if that would work, but I’d figured it was definitely worth a try.

“Please,” I added, but they still didn’t move. Finally, after more than a minute of silence, I resignedly waved, dismissing them.

They left the room, their bras still draped across the chairs in my office, and I raised my eyes to the ceiling.

What on earth was I to do?

4:

That night, I barely slept a wink. Every time I shut my eyes, six nipples and three blushing faces came into my head—my life had somehow become a fantasy, a real-life wet dream…but not my own. For one, I don’t even like submissive women—I can see how it’s sort of abstractly hot, but I like my women to have a bit of fight in them.

My idea woman is an equal in life (and the bedroom), yet somehow I’d ended up with three submissive, obedient women, seemingly at my command.

Except, as I’d proven the previous day, they weren’t. I’d ordered them to put their tops back on, and they hadn’t responded. This was someone else’s fantasy; one that I didn’t have a whole lot of control over.

As I got dressed the next morning, my head was fuzzy, but a few thoughts were quickly becoming clear. It was obvious that this was happening, whether I liked it or not, and so rather than continuing to fight it, I decided to try to learn how it worked. If I ordered the girls to do something non-sexual, they didn’t seem to listen, but if my words could be interpreted sexually at all, that was what they’d obey.

When I arrived in the office at nine, my employees were already there, hard at work. They were dressed like the stereotypical secretary again—white blouses, dark pencil skirts, heels and stockings.

Stockings—now that was something I did enjoy. Very unprofessional of me, I know, but I thought I may as well get some pleasure from the situation.

I felt bad for the ladies, but they were on the ride with me, and it didn’t seem like there was anything that any of us could do to stop it.

“Good morning,” I said as I entered, and at the sound of my voice, all three of them stood and began unbuttoning their shirts, revealing the bras underneath. The shy smiles returned as their beautiful breasts bounced into view once more.

This time, however, I didn’t run into my office. I approached Olivia, whose tits looked so much like my ex-wife’s, and paused.

“May I?” I asked, and her blush deepening, she stared at the floor.

“Please,” she mumbled, and after a brief pause, added “sir.”

Olivia gasped as I roughly tweaked her nipples, enjoying the rubbery feel of them between my forefinger and thumb. After my wife’s surgery, she lost a lot of sensitivity—either Olivia hadn’t had the same experience, or the reaction was for my benefit.

Nodding, satisfied, I went into my office, noticing a look of disappointment from my other employees as I left. I wondered if Olivia would suffer any backlash for getting preferential treatment, or if they’d simply be happy for her.

I was steadily getting used to being constantly aroused, and so that morning I actually managed to get some work done—mostly just back-and-forth emails with a client about the specifics of our next job, but enough that I was able to once more feel in control of my life.

At lunch-time, I used my buzzer and requested Lisa come in. Within a few seconds, she was at my door, flushed at the exertion of getting there so fast.

“Please,” I said, gesturing to the space in front of my desk. I considered telling her to close the door, but I didn’t mind the other girls seeing what was about to happen.

“What are you wearing under your dress?” I asked, enjoying the slight widening of Lisa’s eyes at the question.

“Silk,” she said simply, and surprised me by maintaining eye-contact for a few seconds.

“Show me,” I replied, and sat back as Lisa unzipped her skirt. As I’d hoped, she was wearing stockings—not pantyhose—and there were a few inches of creamy thigh before the black panties that she’d mentioned came into view.

To my disappointment, Lisa seemed to be cleanly shaved, or at least trimmed. Call me old-fashioned, but there’s something deeply erotic about a full, hairy bush.

“Take off the panties,” I said, and Lisa nodded, slowly lowering them over her stockings.

“Come here.”

A shiver ran up her spine as she obeyed, standing next to my desk. I hesitated before I reached out to touch her…this felt like I was crossing a line. Yes, I’d played with Olivia’s boobs that morning, but I’d asked for her permission. I wasn’t even bothering to do that with Lisa, just treating her like a plaything.

Licking my lips, I decided that I didn’t really have much to lose. If someone walked in and found three topless employees and one wearing nothing but heels and stockings, the fact that I’d touched her pussy would hardly be enough to make a difference.

Reaching out with my middle finger, I slowly ran it along Lisa’s slit. She was trembling as I did—whether with cold, fear, or excitement I didn’t know, and I honestly didn’t much care.

My middle finger parted her folds, and I was unsurprised to discover that she was soaking wet. Her knees buckled slightly, forcing my finger deeper than I’d intended to go, and a gasp left her mouth as I did.

“Good,” I said, and a shuddering sigh left Lisa’s mouth.

“Thank you, master…” she murmured, and I raised one eyebrow.

“Master?”

“Sir,” she corrected, but now it was my turn to smile.

“Actually,” I said, “I quite like master. Tell the others, okay?”

Lisa didn’t respond, and when I looked up to see her reaction, she was looking at the door. I turned to see Michelle and Olivia, standing and watching us.

“Ah,” I said. “It seems they already know.”