The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It wasn’t that the firm was sexist or a bunch of misogynist dinosaurs (of a porcine persuasion): she just rubbed them up the wrong way.

Lynda was tall, blond and frighteningly efficient. Perhaps the men felt threatened: perhaps she just rubbed them up the wrong way.

She always dressed well, neatly pressed clothes and tidy hair, though invariably in trousers. Perhaps it was this that annoyed the men in their rather crumpled suits, the result of hurried dressing after a shower and snatched breakfast. Perhaps she just rubbed them up the wrong way.

Colin Meadows, the MD, an exasperated expression on his face turned from watching Lynda’s trouser clothed bottom leaving the room, “I don’t know how I kept my cool with that young woman, Tom, she just infuriates.”

Tom too had been watching Lynda’s rump and been speculating on how it might look unconcealed by the dark grey woollen trousers and panties of an unknown pattern. He wasn’t much interested in the panties, rather the unattainable smooth creamy flesh that lay beneath. “Infinitely desirable and just as infuriating. I don’t know what it is but it does bring out the worst in us.”

The other men around the table were engaged in similar conversations comparing Lynda’s undoubted desirability with her annoying ways. It was always like that, covert glances and barely suppressed irritation.

Lynda was not unaware of the glances but was blissfully unaware of the annoyance she caused. She was concerned about the efficient operation and development of the business and she revelled in her work. She did not see she was a disruptive influence but saw herself as very clearly—there was no contest—the rising star of the firm.

Colin had contemplated taking some action for weeks but this meeting was the last straw. He couldn’t simply fire her—there was no justifiable reason—he could hardly say she didn’t fit in and she upset the men—he would be straight into a discrimination claim and rightly so, no doubt. He had mentioned the problem to his old friend Adrian Brightly and had been quite shocked, but nonetheless intrigued and tempted by the unorthodox solution.

The team had been warned by Colin that he had taken steps to deal with Lynda and that she would do something unusual at the next meeting. Colin had stressed that whatever it might be they were not to react as if anything unusual had happened but to continue the meeting normally. Lynda had come into the room in her usual brusque way, grabbed a plastic cup of water and sat down. It was quite hot in the room and many of the men had taken their jackets off and Lynda had done the same. About fifteen minutes into the meeting Lynda had been in full flow on why Alex’s idea would not work as suggested. Alex was not enjoying the merciless dissection of what, in many ways was an excellent plan, but not thought through as carefully as it could have been, when she took a sip of her water and managed to spill the rest all the way down her white blouse. It was quite a lot of water and it soaked the left hand side making the material semi transparent revealing Lynda’s white lacy bra and even showing the outline of her pink areola. Conversation immediately stopped. Was this the surprise Colin had promised?

Colin said, “Are you all right Lynda?—do you want to nip out and change?”

Lynda’s reply was the surprise. “No Colin, I don’t want to interrupt the meeting. I’ll just hang it on the radiator and it’ll be dry by the end of the meeting. No problem.” She stood up and as she resumed her analysis of Alex’s idea began to unbutton the blouse. Her carefully manicured nails undid the top button before slipping down to release the next pearly button from its eyelet. The two sides of the blouse slipped open revealing the bra cups and the mounds of her breasts. Her fingers dropped to the next button as she talked on. Nobody was listening. The final button undone the blouse fell fully open revealing more of the bra and confirming one cup had indeed got rather wet and like the blouse had become somewhat transparent. The shape of Lynda’s areola was clearly visible as was the slightly raised nipple. The men ogled. Lynda took it as rapt attention to her analysis. She undid the cuffs and slipped the whole blouse off and walked in her white bra and dark grey trousers up the length of the conference room and carefully draped the wet blouse over the radiator under the window. She was still talking as she turned back to the meeting and had their full attention as she reached behind her and undid the bra strap. The men could not actually see Lynda clearly as it was a very sunny day and the low sun was showing her in silhouette but they could clearly see in silhouette that she was taking her bra off and they could actually see the bounce of her freed breasts as she bent to drape the wet bra alongside the blouse on the radiator. As she walked back from the window to her seat, just clothed in her trousers, she came out of the sun and there for all the men to see was Lynda completely topless, her pretty round breasts crowned by soft pink nipples completely exposed to their inspection. It was a moment none of the men were ever likely to forget.

They watched, completely spell bound and lost for words as, still in full flow, she resumed her seat. Her destructive analysis reached its climax and she made a rapid up and down movement with one hand for emphasis looking challengingly at Alex for a reply. The rapid movement however made her breasts bounce in a most erotic manner which in reality totally lost the emphasis of the hand movement, caused Alex’s cock to harden and left him completely at a loss as to how to reply.

“An impressive analysis in my opinion,” said Colin, “though I suspect rather too damning. I think there is considerable merit in the plan nonetheless but it needs further thought. What do you think Alex?”

His reply was not one of his better composed comments seeming to lack both coherence and substance and almost suggesting he had not been really listening to what Lynda had been saying. She found it difficult to conceal a smirk.

The meeting progressed. Everyone was unusually anxious to hear Lynda speak and were abnormally quick to give way if she opened her mouth to speak. Indeed the meeting progressed in a much easier fashion than usual. There was no concerted effort to silence Lynda, no undercurrent of irritation and annoyance. Everyone was keen to hear Lynda and they all looked at her most attentively whenever she did speak. Perhaps it was her chest they watched rather than her lips but nonetheless they were attentive.

Colin was pleased by the exercise and congratulated Adrian Brightly that evening on the success. But the plan had further to run.

A fortnight later Lynda entered the conference room for the meeting in her usual brisk way and was immediately conscious of conversation dying away as if cut by a knife and all eyes fixed on her. Quite out of character, she panicked—had she forgotten to do up something? Was something she was wearing wrong? She glanced downwards—no everything was as it should be. She looked at her bag—no it was the usual attaché case. She turned to see if someone had come in behind her. There was no one there. “Is anything...” she began.

“Ah Lynda, that makes us quorate. Coffee?” Unusually for Tom he actually got her a cup of coffee. Lynda stood for a moment a bit surprised and still puzzled by the sudden ending of conversation but everyone was nodding and smiling at her in a friendly way so she sat down and got into the business of the meeting.

Lynda had correctly surmised the cause of the sudden cessation of conversation. The men had been warned by Colin that something would again be different but this had not prepared them for the reality. He had warned them that Lynda would be completely unaware of the difference and she was to be treated as if everything was normal. The change was for their benefit and not to hurt her. Lynda was dressed as usual in a grey trouser suit: or at least she thought she was. The short grey woollen jacket, cut severely, was worn over a white shirt, a Hermes scarf showed at her throat. It was very neat. Her hair, long and blond was tightly drawn back. All was well on top: it was just the trousers and panties that were missing. Looking up, as Lynda had come in the door, the men had for the first time seen her long legs rising completely uncovered from her high heels. And certainly they were long, rising up and up past her knees and creamy white thighs to join together in a vee of fair curls exposed beneath her short jacket. The exposure was so unexpected that the men had simply stopped talking. Unexpected but welcome. The tone of the meeting proved to be much lighter, much easier than it had been the past year or more. Ideas and business flowed. Even Lynda felt it, little realising the cause or the pleasant feeling of anticipation felt by her fellows at the prospect of the different view that would be enjoyed on her departure.

Colin was not alone in relishing the sight, only previously dreamt about, of seeing Lynda’s naked bottom leaving the room, only partially obscured by the hang of the jacket. The drop of each perfectly formed cheek as she walked, the cleft of her bottom disappearing beneath her legs and the faint glimpse of a mist of fair curls beneath and between her legs as she walked. Colin was also not alone in feeling his hard cock straining against the material of his trousers—indeed the pressure was shared by all eight present. Lynda, though, was happily oblivious of the eight erections she had caused. She was completely unaware that she had carefully removed her shoes, trousers and panties and folded them on her office chair before putting on her shoes again and walking to the meeting. She had no knowledge of reversing the performance when she returned. Her strange actions were completely subconscious. They were the result of Adrian Brightly’s unorthodox method.

Adrian Brightly had remarkable hypnotic abilities that he was happy to put at Colin’s service for an appropriate fee, of course. Lynda had been pleased by Colin’s interest in her personal development and his recommendation of an Advance Influencing Skills course. She had readily gone along with the pre-course one-to-one briefing to establish needs and had really taken to the course director, Mr. Adrian Brightly. He had really seemed to understand her. What she hadn’t appreciated was that it was not to be her influencing skills and needs which were being considered rather how she might be influenced to satisfy the needs of her co-workers. She had not noticed the smooth rhythm of Adrian Brightly’s voice as it lead her first into a light trance and then on into a very suggestible state. He had not taken advantage of her, tempting though it had been, but had prepared Lynda for her subtle display.

Colin’s team were certainly mollified by Lynda’s display. Curiosity had been satisfied and they were more prepared to tolerate her efficiency and attitude now they had seen her in a different light. But of course there was a demand for more. Curiosity had only been satisfied to an extent, Lynda remained irritating and lust had been aroused.

With its accustomed regularity the fortnightly meeting came around and, as tended to happen, the men arrived in the Board Room before Lynda. They were more than a little surprised at finding a new piece of furniture. It did match the existing furniture in being made of Ash wood but otherwise it was very different. It was more of a stool than a chair requiring the occupant to sit rather high up with feet resting on the bars joining the legs. It would have been, apart that is from a singular feature, very at home positioned next to a bar. Indeed a bar stool was perhaps its most accurate description. But of course bar stools do not have, at least in the experience of the men present, a carved phallus rising from its seat. The highly polished phallus was not small, as Alex commented, though it was neither longer nor thicker than reality was likely to produce. Indeed Merv went so far as to say it reminded him of the mirror in his bathroom. This was received with a good deal of humorous scepticism. Not only was the phallus beautifully carved and highly polished it was obvious it had also been oiled.

Lynda’s appearance was just as previously. She even had the same jacket on, but not of course the trousers. Being less of a surprise the men were quicker to look and able to take in greater detail. The profusion of blond curly hairs, the way they seemed to curl the more the closer they were to Lynda’s slit. Indeed, that intriguing little valley that starts to run from the mound of the mons veneris and disappears as it runs deeper, and sometimes wetter, between the legs, was a focus of interest. Lynda herself seemed less aware of the stares than might have been expected and smiled at Colin a little unsure as she couldn’t see a chair at the table.

“Sorry Lynda, one of the chairs broke, could you perch on that stool there?”

Lynda saw the stool but not its unusual feature, Adrian Brightly had seen to that. The men were completely fascinated as Lynda, without a second’s thought, placed first one shoe then the other on the stool’s rails so her sex was raised up above the carefully carved acorn shape of the phallus’ helmet head. Naturally this meant her thighs were a little open and as the men strained forward they could see the pink folds of her lips framed by the soft fair curls. It was obvious she was, incredible as it seemed, lining herself up with the phallus. Completely spellbound they watched as she lowered herself to touch the smooth oiled wood with her sex and then began to push the helmet head into herself. With care, judicious adjustments and the occasional wiggle Lynda began to settle herself and the men watched the phallus gradually disappearing into her. Lynda herself appeared completely unconcerned as if the action of pushing a wooden dildo into yourself watched by your colleagues was a perfectly normal event. But to Lynda it did not appear strange at all, indeed she was unaware at a conscious level of what she was doing or the near catastrophic effect it was having on clean laundry around the table.

As Lynda settled herself completely onto the stood and the wooden penis was hidden from view, Colin began the business of the meeting. The men found it disconcerting the way Lynda participated as if nothing was amiss, the way she was jotting down notes in her notebook and being her usual self. It became even more disconcerting to those best placed to see when she began to ride up and down on the penis, the little pink folds that lead to an increasingly prominent clitoris seeming to caress the shaft as it appeared to lengthen and shorten as Lynda pulled herself up and then down again.

At first Lynda had actually sat still but, whilst fully participating in the meeting, she was puzzled by the feeling in her vagina. It was if it was full, as if a large penis had entered it, opening and stretching it. It was, of course, not an unpleasant feeling but not the sort of feeling she expected to experience in a meeting. Worse still she could feel herself getting wetter and sexually excited—hardly what she normally experienced in meetings with her colleagues. She was barely conscious that she had now started to ride the penis but was very aware of the stimulating effect it was having. So were the men. Her flushed face; faster breathing; to say nothing of her swollen pudenda revealed all. It was difficult not to stare; or to concentrate on the meeting; let alone resist the temptation to unzip a fly.

Lynda’s concentration was wavering and a feeling of panic growing. What if the men noticed she was sexually excited? Surely she was not going to orgasm here in a meeting with eight men? The orgasm was not however to be denied and, when it came, was long and powerful. All saw Lynda clench her eyes tightly shut as she shuddered, pumping harder and faster on the wooden phallus, before her face relaxed into peaceful contentment. Colin motioned to them all to look away and resume the meeting so that when Lynda surfaced she was relieved to see that no one was looking at her and her puzzling and completely unexpected orgasm had passed unnoticed.

The careful way Lynda lifted herself off the stool at the end of the meeting was certainly closely observed by all present, indeed Tom got up specially to take a rear view of her extraction. It was lucky Lynda was not being as observant as she usually was otherwise the considerable bulges in the men’s trousers might have surprised and even upset her.