The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Consultant

(MC, MF, FF, MD, FT)

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any similarity or resemblance to real people, especially to really hot women I’ve worked in the same office with, is completely coincidental.

This story describes sexual encounters that include elements of mind control, dominance, and sado-masochism. If you’re not old enough to read something like this, don’t. If you’re not fun enough to read something like this, don’t. Needless to say, don’t try this at home.

The younger of the two blonde women arrived first, staking out a table in the corner of the Lindsey Pub and Grill, a mall-based restaurant with nothing English about it but its name. Erin sat with her back to the corner of the establishment, where she could see everyone; as she scanned the room, looking for the person she’d come to meet, a man at the bar caught her eye and smiled.

Erin was used to that. She looked good in strappy wedge heels and a snug blue dress that matched her eyes. Even though her outfit was respectable enough to wear to church or the office, Erin couldn’t hide how shapely her body was. Besides, even if she wore a burlap sack, men meeting her would still only have one thing on their mind. Her full, soft lips alone were enough to make any straight man think impure thoughts.

The guy at the bar smiled again, lifting his drink slightly. Erin sighed and looked away, lifting her left hand to her cheek so that her diamond wedding ring sparkled; in one silent gesture she told the man that (a) she was married, (b) she was way out of his league, and (c) she was too busy to even tease him.

You see, Erin was a woman on a mission, and she’d learned long ago that no one takes a tall woman with long blonde hair, a smokin’ hot body, and a sweet, sexy face seriously unless she makes it clear that she’s smart and tough as well as beautiful.

The older woman arrived a few minutes later, and the man at the bar was a bit too slack-jawed to smile when he saw her. Her hair was shorter than Erin’s, though it still fell past her shoulders with the top part caught up in a red bow. She was a petite woman, a good six inches shorter than Erin, even on spike-heeled red pumps—the kind Erin called “fuck-me pumps”—and her body was tight, the type of physique that results from frequent work-outs. Perfectly tailored to her form was a red dress with gold buttons running from the tight collar on her throat to the hem that almost managed to cover the tops of her nude, back-seamed stockings when she walked.

The older woman noticed the man looking at her and put a little more wiggle into that walk, just enough that he probably caught a glimpse of the red satin straps on her garter belt. She smiled as she strode past him to the table where the younger woman was sitting.

“You must be Erin,” the older woman said, taking a seat.

“And you must be Cassandra,” Erin replied. “How did you know it was me?”

“None of the other women in this bar would be facing the problem you are. The consultant likes his women beautiful, and you’re just the kind he would set his sights on.”

Erin shuddered slightly at the mention of the consultant. “Still,” she said, trying to slow her pulse, “there are other attractive women in this bar. I could have been one of them.”

Cassandra glanced around, then shook her head. “No. Not one of them would have even tried to resist him like you have.”

“You did.”

“Yes,” Cassandra replied, “I resisted him.”

“Well,” Erin said, sipping her drink, “don’t keep me in suspense. I agreed to meet you because you said you had advice for any woman who’s trying to fend him off. How did you do it?”

Cassandra smiled softly as though she was reaching far back into her memory.

“I was younger than you are when he came to our office. That was, let’s see, eight years ago, and I was married, as I see you are.”

Erin self-consciously covered her ring, noticing for the first time that Cassandra didn’t wear a wedding band.

“It’s strange,” Cassandra went on, “how he doesn’t seem to age at all. I wonder why that is.”

“If you ask me,” Erin answered, “it’s because he’s still stuck in adolescence, thinking with his pants.”

Cassandra shrugged. “If that were the fountain of youth, no man would ever age. But as you said, he is quite the philanderer. I remember the first day he came to our office like it was yesterday.”

“Good,” Erin prompted, “I need all the intel I can get for this war.”

“The boss announced that a new consultant would be with the company for the next few months. He’d be interviewing each of us individually and looking for ways to make the company more profitable. She talked about him in glowing terms—no, she practically glowed when she talked about him.”

Erin nodded. “Yeah, it’s the same with my boss. She just adores him.”

“Let me guess,” Cassandra went on. “She called a meeting of the whole company, and the consultant gave a presentation about how much the company would change, didn’t he? A presentation with slides?”

“Well, it was power-point, but yeah.”

“And during the presentation, he was checking you out, wasn’t he?”

“Me and every other woman in the room.” Erin did her best to sound angry about it. In truth, she remembered that her nipples had become extremely hard during that meeting; she’d struggled to conceal them, but she knew he had seen them.

“Did you feel it when he walked into the room? The heat?”

Erin nodded, embarrassed to comment aloud on what she’d felt when she first saw him. Then again, she didn’t have to enunciate it; Cassandra expounded on the subject for her.

“It’s like sexual magnetism just radiates from him—like heat from an oven. I can always feel it when he walks into a room, even if I can’t see him. I’m sure you know what I mean.”

The younger woman nodded again, hoping that her nipple wasn’t showing through her dress now.

“And I’ll bet you weren’t the only one who felt it, were you?”

Erin frowned. “Are you kidding? As soon as we left the meeting, it was like he was the only thing the other women in the company could talk about. They all seemed thrilled if he even glanced at them.”

Cassandra sipped her drink. “It was the same at my office. Let me guess, the way they dressed took a dramatic change, too, didn’t it?”

“Well, at first, I noticed that all the women were dressing up more,” Erin answered. “I mean, nothing that wasn’t appropriate for the office, but they all were taking extra care with their make-up and their hair. By halfway through the week, not one of them was wearing slacks; it was all skirts. The next Monday, you couldn’t find a hemline below the knee. With heels. And sometimes stockings. By the end of the second week, they were all pushing the limits of propriety. On casual Friday, most of ‘em were wearing clothes so tight that Britney Speares thought they looked cheap. By the third week, I wondered if I’d missed a memo stating that there would be a bonus for the shortest skirt and the highest heels.”

Cassandra shook her head. “He doesn’t need a memo to start that competition.”

Erin licked her lips nervously. “I couldn’t believe how they were all throwing themselves at him. It was so obvious that they were just trying to get his attention.”

Cassandra smiled knowingly. “I know what that’s like. And you? You didn’t dress to get his attention?”

Erin’s breath caught in her throat. She was used to men noticing her without any effort on her part, but she had dressed to catch his attention during those weeks. She’d rationalized, saying that she was just trying to present a professional image, but the truth was she kept catching herself fantasizing about him as much as anyone else in the office. And it wasn’t like her husband had complained when his wife came home from work each day looking hot and feeling frustrated.

“It’s hard not to want his attention, isn’t it?” Cassandra went on, saving Erin from having to confess what they both already knew. “But I suspect you didn’t get it anymore than I did when he came to my office so long ago.”

Erin shook her head. “No. Instead that pig went after the office slut.”

Cassandra nodded. “He does that everywhere he goes. Even with the classiest women dropping hints, he always asks out the trashiest harlot in the company.”

“Yeah,” Erin complained, “she came into the office on a Monday morning bragging about how he’d fucked her all weekend long. That was the term she used, and she was proud of it. To hear her tell it, he knew every trick in the book and a few that got edited out. He left all other men in the dust. And forget proper business attire. She showed up for work in this skimpy black club dress and thigh-high black leather boots.”

“Ah, yes,” Cassandra sighed, “she earned her boots.”

“Yeah, that’s what they call it in my office, too. She said he took her shopping and picked out those high-heeled monstrosities for her, but she paid for them with her own money. Then back at his place, he ordered her to crawl across the floor wearing only those boots, and a little leather collar. She said he gave her a choice as to whether she’d carry a riding crop or a leash in her mouth.”

“Which one did she pick?” Cassandra asked.

“The crop. She bragged about how she sucked him off while he spanked her with it. She even pulled up her skirt to show the marks on her bare ass. She wasn’t wearing panties; she said he didn’t like his girls to wear anything under their skirts.”

Cassandra shifted in her seat. “He certainly doesn’t.”

Erin nodded. “And here’s the part that really got me. He told her any woman who wanted him needed to go buy a pair of slut-boots like hers, and be prepared to submit to him just like she had. What a colossal prick!”

Cassandra nearly choked on her drink. “Interesting choice of words.”

“Yeah, like he thought we would all run out and spend our paychecks on slutty clothes just to please him.”

“Of course, you didn’t. I bet you refused just like I did. What did the other women who worked in your office do?”

Erin sighed with exasperation. “They ran right out and spent their paychecks on slutty clothes just to please him. The next day every one of them was wearing her boots, until he sent out a memo—can you believe it, a memo!—announcing that no woman in the company was to wear boots like that until she’d earned permission from him.”

It was Cassandra’s turn to sigh. “He’s a mean bastard, isn’t he? Did that put an end to all the tawdry clothing at the office?”

Erin snorted. “I wish! Hell, no, it’s worse now. Did you know Fredrick’s of Hollywood sells business attire—if you can call it that? I didn’t. It’s like they’re all just wearing parodies of what they used to. On our last casual Friday, a redhead from accounting showed up in a naughty schoolgirl outfit! At work! He called her to his office at eleven in the morning, and she strutted around with her boots under the plaid skirt for the rest of the day. Somebody has to stop this asshole!” Erin slammed her empty glass on the table to punctuate her point.

The older blonde woman wrung her hands sympathetically. “I know exactly what you’re going through, Erin. It was like that at my office when we made the pact.”

“The pact?”

Cassandra licked her lips. “I met with several other women in the office, the most attractive ones, and we made a pact. We knew what he really wanted: us. And he wanted us on his terms. I suspect, Erin, that you’re not a woman who does a man on anyone’s terms but your own.”

“Damn straight!” Erin said.

“Well, neither were any of us—or so I thought. We all swore that we would never crawl across that floor, would never offer him a leash with our mouths, would never suck him off while he dominated us, would never submit to him.”

Erin grinned. “You hit him where he lives when you swore not to screw him. I bet it drove him nuts that you wouldn’t play his little game.”

Cassandra shook her head. “You don’t understand. We didn’t swear not to have sex with him; we swore that it would be on our own terms. We swore to tease him and tempt him until he came crawling to us.”

Erin smiled. “Still, you beat him. I bet there are some women left in the office who would join me in something like that.”

“Wait,” Cassandra said, “I’m not done giving you the advice someone in your situation needs.”

Erin settled back into her seat. “I’m all ears.”

“At first, it went well. As it happened, I was the first one of us that he targeted. He called me to his office and told me to bring my boots. He just assumed I had some stashed in my desk or my car. I walked in there, dressed up and looking hotter than hell, and proudly told him that I wasn’t going to submit, and neither were any of the other girls.”

“Oh, that must have pissed him off,” Erin said, relishing the thought.

“Well, if it did,” Cassandra replied, “he didn’t show it. He just smiled like nothing had happened and asked if I could cover for Heather, his assistant, for a half-hour or so. Normally I would have said no, but his assistant was a cute little brunette who had joined in the pact, so I agreed to sit at her desk right outside his office. I wanted to be nearby when he got the second rejection of his lifetime.”

“This story just gets better and better,” Erin interjected.

“So Heather went into his office, and just a few seconds later, she came out, looking visibly shaken. She wouldn’t say anything to me; she just rolled open one of her desk drawers and pulled out a pair of boots. She had tears in her eyes, and she was muttering, asking me not to be angry at her. ‘I hear him from my desk all day long,’ she said to me. ‘You don’t know what it’s like.’”

“Oh, my God,” Erin said. “She could hear him with other women?”

Cassandra nodded. “I could hear the two of them—for the rest of the day. I guess Heather chose the leash, because I didn’t hear any whipping, just the two of them moaning, then her screaming. Repeatedly. He must have taken her in every way you can imagine. Believe me, I imagined them all while I listened to him banging her.”

“What a bastard . . . " Erin hissed.

“When she finally staggered out at 5 o’clock, she could barely stand in her boots. You know the “just-fucked” look that some models go for? Heather was the most fucked looking woman I’ve ever seen.”

The silence after that story hung in the air until Erin spoke. “So what you’re telling me,” the younger woman said, “is that some women don’t have enough willpower and self-respect to resist him? What else did he do?”

“Well, let me just say that she wasn’t the only one of us who couldn’t keep the pact. One by one, they all slipped, until it was just three of us.”

“Only three?”

“Yes. And you won’t believe some of the things he did to those who held out a while before giving in. There was one, who once she’d surrendered, he made dress like a nineteen-fifty’s housewife all the time. Maybe it was something Oedipal. Everyday, she came in wearing tea-length dresses, with little tennis-shoes and white socks. Then, she slipped up one day, deviated too far from what he’d told her to wear, and he punished her for it.”

“How did he do that?”

“Slut-wear for a month. She had to dress naughtier than anyone in the company—and at the degree to which women were going to seduce him, that was not easy. And no matter how hot she looked, he wouldn’t touch her. Instead, she had to do anything any of the men at the company asked.” Cassandra shuddered. “And she wasn’t the only one he played cruel mind-games with.”

“You mean it gets worse?”

“Oh, yes,” the older woman said. “Much worse. Take what he did to me when my niece came to visit.”

“This can’t end well,” Erin moaned.

“My niece was nineteen years old, a college freshman, and very sheltered. She called me at the office one day near the end of May to say that she was in town and wanted to have lunch. We met at a local restaurant—and then he showed up.”

“He didn’t!”

“He did. Smooth as you like, all smiles and gentility as he sat down at our table unasked. You know how charming he can be. He smiled at my niece and talked to her like she was the only woman in the world, like I wasn’t even there. I don’t know whether I was protective or jealous.”

Erin shook her head. “What a jerk.”

“It gets worse,” Cassandra said.

“How could it get worse?”

“Halfway through the meal, my cell phone rang. Someone from the office needed me back there right away. I apologized, and do you know what he said? He said he’d keep her company for me.”

“Okay, that is worse,” Erin said. “What did you do?”

“I went back to the office. It was nearly five o’clock when the two of them returned.”

“Please tell me she wasn’t wearing thigh-high boots.”

Cassandra shook her head. “No, but she was dressed totally differently. He took her shopping at the mall; she looked like a little teeny-bopper rock star, a regular sex-kitten. She showed off how he’d paid to have her navel pierced, and he promised to get her tongue pierced on her next visit. She was even debating about tattoo designs. Then she dropped the bombshell: He’d offered her an internship for the summer. She was going to be his personal assistant. Next time I saw her, she was wearing her boots under a micro-mini and an ultra-tight, midriff-baring top. And she looked totally blissed out.”

“Damn, I can’t believe you let him take her.”

“What was I going to do? It took all my effort to hold out myself. I tried everything. I was aroused all the time. On the weekends, I would put on a pair of those boots and crawl across the floor to my husband.”

Erin blushed slightly. She hadn’t gone so far as to get herself a pair of boots—but she had fantasized about the consultant while she and her husband were making love. She’d had to bite her tongue more than once to keep from screaming his name.

“I bet your husband loved that,” Erin offered.

“At first he did. But over time, I came home from work so horny everyday that my husband actually got tired of sex. Plus, he could tell that I wasn’t enjoying it with him. For a while, I would just try to imagine that I was with the consultant instead of my husband. Eventually, I couldn’t climax unless I was thinking about him. Finally, I couldn’t come with my husband at all.”

Erin glanced nervously at her wedding ring and at Cassandra’s bare finger. “Still, you held out. That took strength.”

“Yes. There were three of us left in the pact, and I’m not bragging when I say we were the cream of the crop. Sara was an incredibly attractive single woman with bright blue eyes and waist-length raven-black hair, and Becky was a voluptuous strawberry blonde, totally devoted to her fiancée. We were the best looking women in the company, and we knew it. And he knew it, too.”

“So, you three managed to defeat him,” Erin said.

“Well, it happened like this,” Cassandra said. “He called me into his office one day. I walked in, and he took a long look at me. You know that way he has of looking at you, where you feel like your naked and he’s taking you with his eyes?”

Erin shivered, though the room wasn’t cold. “I know that look. Go on.”

“Well, I’d had all I could stand. I told him off then and there, stomping my high-heeled foot and shaking my fist at him. I told him that the three of us were going to take him on his terms, and that I was going to make him crawl through broken glass and beg to lick my feet before I’d fuck him. I told him that no matter how hot he thought he was, the three of us were hotter, and we were going to win!”

“How did he take that?”

“Mostly he sat behind that giant desk of his and didn’t say anything. I knew I must be getting through, because sometimes his eyes would get wider. I finished off by telling him that I really didn’t even care if he did come crawling to me, I still wouldn’t give him any satisfaction. Then I just stood there trembling with anger. Finally, he said, ‘Are you done, Cassie? I have something you should see.’”

Cassandra continued. “I walked slowly around his desk, and when I got there, I saw why his eyes had periodically widened. Behind his desk, he had his pants down, and two women, dressed only in thigh-high black leather boots, had their faces buried in his lap. One woman had waist-length black hair . . . ”

“Oh, God . . .” Erin whispered.

“. . . and the other was a strawberry blonde. He had to work a little to get them to turn their heads so that I could see their faces—that’s how intent they were on sucking his cock—but I knew who it was already: Sara and Becky, the last two members of the pact. I was the only one left. And then I saw it.”

After a pause, Erin prompted her. “You saw what?”

“His prick. His cock. My God, have you seen it? It’s not just huge. It’s colossal. It’s like a marble sculpture. I mean, words can’t describe how magnificent it is. The other women had told me. I’d even heard him using it on Heather, but nothing compared to seeing it.” Cassandra’s hands shook on the table as she spoke.

“Wh-what did you do?” Erin swallowed.

“I fell to my knees. It wasn’t lust I was feeling anymore; it was reverence. I knew then that he wasn’t exactly a man. He’s more like a god, or the devil maybe. I don’t know, and right then, I didn’t care. He beckoned me forward, and I crawled to him on all fours.

“Sara and Becky had gone back to pleasing him, and when I knelt at his feet between them, he showed no signs of stopping them. Becky was doing her best to ram him all the way down her throat. I remembered how she used to say that she never gave her fiancée head. Sara was taking her long, beautiful hair and gently brushing his balls with the tip of one lock. Whenever Becky would relinquish a bit of the shaft, Sara would lean into kiss and lick it. I wanted to lean in, too, but he shook his head when I started to.”

Erin listened to every detail, hardly noticing the way that Cassandra’s eyes had glazed over while she talked.

“At one point, he thrust several times between Becky’s lips, and then he pulled her head off him by the hair so he could thrust it into Sara’s mouth. By now both of them were working him with their hands, and I could tell he was getting close. The whole time, I was kneeling, in my best low-cut blue pinstripe dress and heels, between his pair of naked sluts. I kind of wanted to touch myself but I could tell it wasn’t permitted.

“At last, he pulled his prong out of Becky’s mouth. I swear it made a pop as it dislodged from her throat; I don’t know how she was breathing. Then came the moment I was waiting for. He placed his big, strong hands on either side of my head, caressing my hair. I’d had it up, but I didn’t mind him pushing the combs out of it so it would fall free. He was my master in that moment, and I would do anything to please him. His magnificent cock was centered directly in front of me, and it was my turn.

“I grasped the base of it in both hands and worked it gently. It felt even bigger when it was in my hands. My lips parted, and I flattened my tongue, consciously working to relax my throat. I wanted to suck him all the way to his balls. I could tell by the throbbing between my hands that he was ready to burst. My neck craned forward, and just as I nearly had my lips on the tip . . . ”

“Yes,” Erin muttered dizzily, “go on . . . ”

“ . . . he yanked my head back by my hair, hard, and he sprayed on my face.”

“Oh, God,” Erin moaned, closing her eyes and clutching the table.

“Not just a little bit, like most men. I swear, he came buckets—all over my cheeks and my eyes, my lips, my chin, my hair, and my dress. I couldn’t believe it.”

“What—what did you do?” Erin asked breathlessly.

Cassandra took a deep, trembling breath. “I came. I orgasmed harder than I have in my whole life. It felt like hours that I clung to his thighs for support, pure ecstasy racking my body. Then I actually passed out. When I woke up, I was on the floor, and Becky and Sara were kissing my face, cleaning me with their tongues. When they were done, he let each of them kiss me full on the lips. You know how his women always talk about how good his cum tastes? They’re not lying. It’s not like any other man’s. I can’t really even describe it. Before I left the room, I’d licked copious quantities of it from between each of the other women’s legs.”

Erin eyes unglazed, and she spoke slowly, trying to comprehend Cassandra’s words.. “So, he came all over your face and then made you eat out his sluts? You call that winning? I thought you had advice that would help me.”

“Oh, Erin,” Cassandra said, looking away wistfully, “I do have important advice for you. It’s this: Don’t resist him. Give into him now, while you still have the chance. You don’t want to end up like me.”

“What do you mean, end up like you? As one of his women?”

Cassandra shook her head emphatically. “You don’t get it. I’m not one of his women. He refused to take me. After I finally yielded to him, after I tasted him on Becky and Sara’s lips, after I left my husband, all he will allow me to do is lick his balls while he fucks other women.” Cassandra blinked back tears. “Every night, I go to places like this. I pick up guys like that one at the bar. And if I’m really, really lucky, I can get one to come on my face. It’s the only way I can orgasm now.”

Erin couldn’t think of a reply, but she didn’t have to. Even before she saw him, she knew who had just walked into the room. He looked only at Erin as he made his way to their table. She realized her pulse had shot through the roof.

“You—you’re a bastard,” the younger woman managed to say to him.

“Yes,” the consultant replied. “My father, like me, never married my mother—though like me, he did thoroughly enjoy her charms. She’s quite a beauty.”

Erin’s jaw dropped. “I just . . . ”

“Erin,” he said, taking a suddenly commanding tone, “on Monday morning, I expect to see you in my office, wearing something black and exceptionally trashy to go with your new boots. Otherwise, you will wish you had ended up like Cassandra. Do I make myself clear?”

Erin bit her lower lip. “Yes, sir,”


“After that, I expect you to keep your calendar clear for the next month. You may be accompanying me on a few business trips.”

“Yes, sir,” Erin asked, “But . . . ”


“What will I tell my husband?”

“Well, I doubt he’ll really be able to satisfy you any more, don’t you think? Normally I let my women settle their previous affairs however they wish. But in your case . . . I think you’d best go home and tell him it’s over because you’ve found someone much better than him: manlier, more successful, capable of fulfilling your needs, better endowed. Be as cruel as possible.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Cassandra,” he went on, “there’s one more bit of information you need to give my dear Erin, don’t you think?”

Cassandra cleared her throat. “There’s only one place in town to get the right kind of boots. It’s here in the mall, but it closes in five minutes, and it doesn’t open on Sundays. Good luck.”

The younger blonde woman never thought she could run so fast in high heels.

The consultant looked across the table at the older blonde woman. “Cassandra, you did an excellent job this time.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Do you still have your boots?” he asked.

“They’re in the trunk of my car, sir. I never wear them, but I keep them close.”

The consultant nodded. “Well, Cassandra,” he said, “I think you’d best go put them on. It’s time you earned them.”

The older blonde woman never thought that she could run so fast in high heels, either.