The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The following story contains adult material. If below the age of 18, go outside, get some fresh air and do something healthy (g).

If you ARE 18, then you should know the following story is about women who are forced through mind control to participate in non-consensual sex, public humiliation, and b&d, in both m/f and f/f situations. Both the characters and occurrences in this fiction are completely fictitious.

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The Conditioners

By Marlissa

3 of 33

Chapter Two: A Reprimand for Kirk

“You’re doing better with the coffee, Kirk. I can tell you’re really trying. This is a much tastier cup you’ve brewed today.”

“Thank you, Ms. Henessey,” mumbled the nervous twentysomething. “I... I am trying.”

He looked more than a little relieved. Ms. Henessey, his boss, had sat him down the day before and lectured him at length on the importance of a good cup of coffee. She let it be known that if Kirk didn’t pick up that little skill very quickly, he would be looking for a new job and she would be finding herself a new assistant. They both knew that her task would be much easier than his in that regard. There was no shortage of overqualified young applicants eager to replace him.

New jobs were harder to come by.

“Got your little pad? Good. Let’s get started. First, type up the monthly report and get it to Ms. Blackwell’s PA by ten. Make sure you proof it this time. Then have my expenses completed and ready for my signature by noon—the receipts are on your desk. I’ll need tickets to Washington for my meeting with the Jackson organization—book me on American and remember to use my frequent flier number. Book me into the Adams through Thursday. Got all that?”

“Yes ma’am, got it all.” Kirk stood with pad in hand, waiting to be dismissed.

“Oh, wait.” Pamela handed him a claim ticket. “Be a dear and pick up this dry cleaning for me—I’ve got a lunch with Ms. Williams and can’t get to it.”

Kirk had wanted to work out at lunch time but he nodded dutifully. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll take care of it.”

Pamela smirked. “Oh, Kirk—what would I do without you? You’re a gem, an absolute gem.” Her eyes lingering hungrily over her young assistant. She certainly hadn’t hired him for his brains, she thought, as her gaze caressed his firm, young backside. He looked darling in his little office outfit of khakis and his polo shirt. No ties or suits for her assistant—he might be mistaken for an executive and that wouldn’t be appropriate, she had told him. Well, he had taken instruction well and looked very cute in his new outfits.

Not for the first time, Pamela considered having an affair with the boy. At thirty-seven, she was a good fifteen years older than her Kirk, but then she was his boss, not to mention head of Human Resources at Morgan & Company. If she wanted to enjoy her assistant, what could he do about it? Besides, an office fling might do the boy’s next job review a lot of good. She made a quick mental note to point that out to him at the earliest opportunity.

God, he really did have a tight little ass!

Maybe a little encouragement was in order. “Kirk, you really have been trying to be a good office helper for me. Why, in the six months you’ve been with me, you’ve become quite efficient—almost like a wife.”

She licked her lips—she liked the sound of that.

And she loved the way Kirk cringed when she said it.

It definitely bore repeating.

“Just like a supportive wife from the Fifties. Anyway, I see here on my calendar that Wednesday is Secretary’s Day. I want you to order yourself some pretty flowers for your desk—you pick out any kind you like but do keep it under thirty-five dollars. And why don’t you make a reservation for us at...” She thought she remembered a quickie motel on the east side of town—her secretary was going to get a chance to show how much he appreciated his boss on Secretary’s Day—“...Chez Henri’s. Better do it now—all the bosses will be taking their secretaries out and...".

She stopped, noticing a frown on her assistant’s face. “What? What’s the matter Kirk?”

The blonde boy fidgeted. “It is just that... well I’m not technically a secretary. When I was hired the job was Assistant and...".

Pamela cleared her throat, cutting him off at once. Best to nip this in the bud. “Kirk, you answer my phone, do my typing, my filing, my errands—and anything else I tell you to do. Anything else. You are my secretary—understand? Just because you’re a male, doesn’t mean you can’t be a secretary. And with more and more female executives taking over boards of directors, companies, and departments, they’ll be more boys assuming the role of secretary—not less. In fact, if you object so strenuously to your job title, I know lots of boys who would be happy—and very, very grateful—to have the chance to be my personal secretary.” She looked him in the eye. “Do we understand each other?”

Kirk nodded glumly. “Yes, ma’am. I understand.”

Pamela Henessey wanted to laugh—the poor boy looked so devastated. But it was important to be forceful with subordinates. “Good—that’s my little helper! Now go do the assignments I’ve given you and remember, I’m taking you to lunch on Wednesday. And Kirk—I want to see those flowers on your desk by noon.”

Her eyes followed his ass out the door—she was sure he knew she was staring.

And she couldn’t have cared less.