The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Keith couldn’t help but stare. He had never seen so many miniskirted women in a business place in his entire life. The place was teeming with them!

“Welcome, Mister Hynde, to your first day at Cain Consulting!” Petersen extended a hand. “On behalf of Mister Klaw and the entire organization, we are thrilled to have you. Please follow me to my office so we can clear up some paperwork and get you to your new office.”

The two men chatted about last night’s game as they made their way to the HR director’s office. Hynde enjoyed the stroll through the hallways, eyeing the bevy of beauties constantly trotting past the men, hands filled with fresh coffee and arms clutching piles of files.

Outside his office, a short blonde with an elfin grin waited for him, with a brunette about twice her age in tow. The blonde wore her smile just for Petersen, her C cup chest thrust out, a bit cramped in a red knit top. With her shoulder-length braids, she looked like an overgrown Heidi, from the old TV show. The brunette’s eyes were downcast, but she glanced warily at the blonde, as if worried about what the younger woman might report about her. Her looks were harder-edged than those of the blonde, but quite attractive. And like the blonde, she too wore a miniskirt, a snug floral scrap that looked far too young for a woman her age to wear.

“Mr. Petersen,” the blonde announced petulantly, “Jennifer Anne isn’t following instructions for the monthly contest!” The blonde was obviously pleased to tattle on the older woman. “And you TOLD her that while in training, she was supposed to do everything I told her to!”

Petersen, rubbing his temples, turned to the redhead. “Is this true, Jennifer Anne? Did Becky tell you to do something which you haven’t done?”

The fortyish woman nodded, looking squeamish. “Well, Mr. Petersen, I just couldn’t believe that you expected ME to participate in something like that. I, uh, think I’m a bit above that kind of...” Her voice died as Petersen continued to focus on her grimly, a bead of sweat glistening on his upper lip. Keith supposed the HR Director was using his Conditioning ability.

“Yes, Miss Buford, ALL the secretaries must participate. The wet t-shirt contest is MANDATORY. Why, our executives just love to watch their pretty office girls compete for raises by strutting their stuff for them up on the stage in the auditorium! It isn’t rocket science—you just slip into a t-shirt, get hosed down and then dance a bit for the guys. The winner gets a little raise—sometimes as much as three or four bucks an hour- and a $100 gift certificate to Victoria’s Secret. Plus a private meeting afterwards with Mr. Klaw, the president. That’s not too difficult, is it?”

The redhead hesitated. “But...”

“Stop it, Miss Buford. Look up and listen to me again.” Petersen stared at her. “ALL secretaries are expected to perform—even if you are a little on the flat side. May I suggest a very, very tight t-shirt?”

Fascinated, Hynde watched her lips as they pursed down with more and more pressure, till he thought the thin-lipped woman’s mouth would seal up permanently. If he understood how this worked, then Petersen was Conditioning her—but the man appeared to be having some trouble. His guess was soon proved correct when the woman didn’t readily enough agree with Petersen’s instructions.

The HR Director sighed. “Jennifer Anne, you’re still in training under Becky here, but regardless of that, should you prove disobedient in this respect I’ll be forced to speak to your direct supervisor, Mr. Kendall.”

The redhead’s eyes widened; the sulky pursed lips opened in shock.

Petersen continued. “You’ve already had some problems with Mr. Kendall I believe-haven’t you, Jennifer Anne? I don’t think he’d like to hear about this lapse, would he?”

The woman shook her head, a frightened look in her eyes. Hynde wondered what had happened between her and Kendall. “Please, Mr. Petersen,” she whined. “I’ll do it.”

Petersen smiled and Becky smirked at her sister secretary’s predicament. “Fine,” he nodded. “Be a good girl and get ready for the contest then. Becky, get Jennifer Anne her regulation knee pads—no secretary is complete without them. Oh, and a very pretty blouse Becky.”

The blonde, beaming at the praise, took the older woman by the arm. “Now you’ll behave Jenny—or you know Mr. Petersen will tell your boss. And you know what your last spanking felt like-all the girls in Steno heard you caterwauling all the way down on Two!”

“Yes, Miss Tucker. I’ll, uh, behave,” the red head promised, cowed by the younger woman.

Petersen and Hynde watched the two women putter down the hall, both amused as the younger one gave the older girl pointers on how to act during the upcoming contest. Apparently Petersen’s warning had been effective—the sassy redhead was now concentrating hard on everything the blonde bimbo was suggesting. Petersen pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his forehead. “The newer girls need constant supervision, which is why I assign a trained girl to tell them how to act and explain how the office works. Becky belongs to Jameson in MIS. She was a math major from MIT, but far too cute to waste on numbers. He’s kind enough to spare her to break in our newest hire, Jennifer Anne.” He pocketed the handkerchief. “Come in, Hynde—let’s get started.”

Keith followed the HR Director into his office, eager to learn more of the mysterious Xanadu that Cain Consulting promised to be.

Petersen handed over a thick pile of documents. “You’ll need to sign all these, non-compete agreements and the like. All legalese, but you might want to take some time to review them.”

Hynde quickly signed them all, without so much as a glance. Petersen watched this with prim approval, as if Keith was making an astute move in a game of chess, then proceeded to bore him with details of the company benefits package and health plan. With the more mundane part of the introduction over, Petersen pulled out a thick binder of photographs.

“On to our office girls then,” he explained, with a small smile. “Now as you know, you only have direct power over a girl you have marked with your Conditioning. But as you’ve seen with Jennifer Anne, our girls are expected to obey ALL men here. As a courtesy we don’t use each other’s girls without permission—that’s just good manners. Nevertheless, until you choose your own girl and lay in your specific Conditioning, we do have a compliant group of ladies at your disposal in the Steno Pool—a group I personally manage.” He pushed the binder forward. “I think you’ll find something to your liking there—the Conditioning is laid in tightly enough so the girl remains pliant, though lightly enough so that the Conditioning—with a slight exertion—can be transferred and personalized with your specific stamp. If you like, you can keep the one you choose-or send her back and try another till you find one you like. You’re only limited to the supply in Steno—a supply we continually refresh with new talent.”

Hynde flipped through the book. There were dozens of women, some nude, others posing—yes, posing—in lingerie. “But-ah-what happens to the ones who get sent back? You recycle them?”

“Sort of. Some we use for domestic purposes, others business purposes. More about that later. See anything you like? Oh... while you’re looking, I should bring something up.” He pushed a newspaper across the desk.

Hynde read the article. LOCAL POLICEWOMAN ASSAULTED, PD TO REVIEW AFFIRMATIVE ACTION PROGRAMS. “That was me,” he admitted lamely. “Sorry.”

Petersen nodded, unperturbed. “We expected you to try something like this. Maybe not so public as this of course. Mr. Klaw asked me to ask you not to be so, shall we say, demonstrative of your new special ability. It brings unwanted publicity—you understand the policy?”

Keith shrugged. “Sort of.”

The HR Director squared his shoulders like a schoolmaster. “Very simply, the rule of thumb is this—use the ability for business purposes absolutely. In fact treat it like you’d treat company property. Naturally you’d use a company car during your private hours—we’re not naive. And so we expect you to use your ability as well. So have fun—but please, no more public assaults or compelling nuns to streak or the like. Such faux pas will cost you more than your position at Cain, Hynde. Understood?”

Keith swallowed hard. These guys were for real. Not for the first time, he wondered if he’d gotten in over his head. “Understood.”

“Good.” The counterfeit smile associated universally with HR professionals spread across Petersen’s face. “Then we can proceed with your assistant. See anything you like?”

“I can’t, uh have them all, can I?”

“Unfortunately, no. But should you ever grow bored with the one you’ve picked, there’s a full refund policy!” It was evidently a joke, because his plastic smile broke to reveal teeth.

Hynde smiled back politely.

“Seriously, you can always exchange your secretary for another at any time and with no reason.”

Keith flipped the pages. “It ‘s hard—they’re all so damn cute, but, well, I like the look of these two. There isn’t a lot of information here though -just the names, I see.”

“Well, frankly, you’ll care very little about the extraneous information after awhile. Should you be curious, the girls are all very forthcoming about their backgrounds and previous experience. Let’s take a look at the two of interest and have them come in to present themselves.”

Petersen picked up his phone and quietly issued instructions for the two girls to be sent up.