The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“What the hell is that?”

Christine had remained at the bistro for a while after shooting wrapped for the day. Now, she was back at the cabin, staring at Jenna’s handiwork.

“It’s called a bundling board. People back in the old days used them when were sharing a bed and wanted to make sure things stayed nice and respectable.”

“Oh, come on! Wouldn’t it make more sense for you to loosen up and get comfortable with me so you’re ready to get up close and personal in front of the cameras tomorrow?” Christine’s already thin attempt to make this sound like a reasonable argument was undercut further by the increasingly sultry tone of her voice.

“You’re incorrigible!”

“Hey, a hot girl ‘incorriges’ me. Even when she insists on covering up in dumpy old pajamas.” She grinned. “You know what they say about girls who wear flannel, don’t you?”

Jenna refused to get drawn into a discussion of her sleepwear. “Forget it. I have to put up with your come-ons on camera, but not on my own time. Sorry, I don’t swing that way.”

“Oh, really?” Christine smirked. “Because that’s not the impression I got when your were tongue-wrestling me.”

“I was trying to keep you from trying to swallow my tonsils!”

“I guess you think the best defense is a good offense, considering that your tongue got into my mouth at least twice.“

“That wasn’t on purpose!”

“If you say so.” Christine shrugged. “And I suppose the way I caught you checking out my tits after I took off my top wasn’t on purpose, either.”

“I couldn’t believe what I was seeing!”

“Mmmm-hmmm.” Christine murmured skeptically. Staring Jenna in the eye, she declaimed in a rap-style rhythm, “The eye does not lie, and though you try to deny, I spy ‘bi’!”

Jenna choked back the first response that came to mind. Continuing to argue would just make Christine even more stubborn and obnoxious. “You can believe whatever you want.” She patted the plank, as if assuring herself that it would stay put. “As long as you keep your hands to yourself.”

Christine took a closer look at the improvised barrier. “Wait a minute,” she said. “Did you get that board out of the dumpster?”

“Well, I didn’t see any home improvement stores around here.”

“You can’t put an old board in the middle of the bed! It’s probably full of mold and fungus!”

“It’s left over from the display shelves they installed,” Jenna replied, pointing to the wall display with stuffed animals on the left and whiskey bottles on the right. “It was in the clean, dry, and otherwise empty dumpster for all of eight hours. Just to be sure, I scrubbed it down with soap.”

Christine tried one last appeal. “I’ll be good. I’ll act like I’m taking you on a first date and I can feel your daddy’s shotgun crosshairs on the back of my neck.”

“Shotguns don’t have crosshairs, and you’re going to be good because I’m going to be out of reach.”

Dejected, Christine gave up and sat down on her side of the bed. She started to pull off her dress.

A few minutes later, Jenna emerged from the bathroom in her pajamas. Christine was lying on her side facing away from the board. The sheet loosely draped over her didn’t hide the fact that she was completely naked. She had an annoyed expression on her face.

“Good night. See you in the morning.” Jenna turned off the lights and settled down to sleep.

Sure enough, with no way to reach out and touch Jenna in a way that could be plausibly explained away as an accident, Christine behaved herself. Mostly. For a little while just as Jenna was getting to sleep, she had writhed and moaned in a way that made it pretty obvious that she was pleasuring herself. Jenna found a pair of earplugs in her nightstand and tried to avoid thinking about the other woman’s fantasies and how she might figure into them.

Jenna woke up early the next morning, and got herself washed and dressed. As she finished, Christine began to rouse herself. After a few inarticulate grunts and grumbles, she got out the question, “Did the boss lady tell you anything about the next scene?”

“No.” She checked herself in the mirror. It was rather pointless—she still needed to go to wardrobe and makeup—but habit was hard to break.

Christine chuckled. “I’m hoping for something involving a large tub of Jell-O.”

“In your dreams.”

“Well, yeah. That was how this one dream I had last night started—”

“See you on the set, Christine.” Jenna headed for the door before Christine could regale her with any further details.

A few minutes later, she was sitting in the make-up chair listening to Merry’s directions for the next batch of scenes. They would be a series of athletic competitions between the two women. All in all, it was close to the sort of show she’d been expecting in the first place: a thin excuse for her to show off her body in a revealing outfit.

“Be careful to get the zippers lined up correctly,” Merry said as she held up the silver spandex Jenna would be wearing. “The fit leaves no room for error. One other warning: it also leaves no room for underwear.”

“What?” Jenna protested.

“I need you to hold still,” the makeup artist chided as she put the finishing touches on her fake tattoo.

“Sorry,” Jenna whispered, carefully holding her head and neck still.

“Don’t worry. It’ll keep you decent.” Merry held the fabric up to a light. It seemed opaque enough. Well, it would have to be.

Once the last bits of makeup were finished, she retreated to her dressing room to squeeze into the suit. Getting it correctly positioned around her hips so that the little crotch pad fit comfortably was tricky, but she finally managed. The upper section was a bit easier; it just took a couple of adjustments and zip-up attempts to get it fastened tightly around her body.

She did a few experimental jumps and kicks. The suit didn’t impede her mobility at all. The padding rubbed and tickled at her pubes when she walked, but she’d rather have that than the cameltoe she’d otherwise be showing.

All in all, the suit was just what she expected. It provided more than enough coverage to obey the letter of the contract, while hugging and highlighting her curves in a way that made a mockery of its spirit. Well, the letter was what mattered.

Christine was in the makeup chair when she returned. “Niiiice,” she purred appreciatively.

“You might as well enjoy the view,” Jenna told her, “because I’m going to enjoy kicking your ass.“

“Oooh, a domme! Not my usual style, but I’m flexible.”

Jenna stalked off silently and headed for the obstacle-course race that would begin the day’s shooting. A track about twenty yards long led to an twelve-foot wall with ropes and footholds; she couldn’t see what lay beyond. The bikini-clad girl with the starter whistle—the same redhead who had brought the basket of pool toys yesterday—waved her back when she started approaching to take a look. She settled down and waited for Christine to get ready.

After a few minutes, the other woman arrived, and the pair took their positions at the starting line. “Start when you hear the whistle, ladies. Now... Ready! Set!... FWEEEEE!”

The duo remained neck and neck as they approached and climbed the wall. They glanced down the other side.

“Whoa!” Christine said. “It’s like a dream come true.”

Sure enough, there was an aboveground pool about four feet deep filled with something gelatinous-looking. It was too large to jump over, and there were no provisions for slowly climbing down this side. They would have to jump in and clamber out.

“Last one in’s a rotten egg!” Christine declared as she jumped.

For a moment, Jenna considered waiting until she got out before jumping in herself. She decided that handing her an easy victory was just intolerable, and took the plunge.

She splashed into the oily fluid. She’d expected to slip and fall in the stuff; instead, she easily stayed upright to stand breast-deep in the pool. Looking down at herself, she saw the stuff oozing up toward her neckline as it soaked into the fabric. As the material absorbed the stuff, it simultaneously darkened and acquired a glittering sheen.

When she turned her attention back toward the race, Christine was almost over the rim. “I hope you like my ass, because that’s all you’re going to see of me for the rest of the race!” she taunted as her feet dropped to the ground.

Jenna climbed out as fast as she could. Luckily, the soaking hadn’t made her gloves slippery; if anything, they now held a tighter grip on the sides of the tank. She dropped to the racecourse and tested her footing; her soles had also gained a rubbery traction from the fluid.

Christine was well and truly in the lead. She couldn’t help noticing how the curves of her legs and ass glinted as the shimmering fabric clung to them. A twinge in her pussy almost made her stumble. What the hell... no, it must be the pad rubbing against her pubes again. Yeah, that had to be it.

Slowly, she closed the gap over the length of the course. Christine was slowing down; apparently she’d failed to pace herself properly and was running out of steam.

She caught up about ten yards short of the finish line. She jumped as Christine gave he a swat on the rear in passing, but didn’t allow herself to be derailed.

“Looks like you beat me fair and square,” Christine admitted once she caught her breath. She leaned over to peer at Jenna’s ass. “I’m just sorry you weren’t in the lead for a longer stretch.”

Jenna shifted her weight from foot to foot. The crotch pad in her suit had been brushing against her pussy lips all through the race. It wasn’t uncomfortable, and it wasn’t exactly arousing, but it left her feeling a bit sensitive down there. She realized that Christine was probably feeling the same thing. If so, her incessant innuendos and come-ons would surely get worse than ever. Once this shooting session was finished, she’d want to find some privacy and jill off.

“The race goes to Jenna.” Merry said. “Now, both of you take a quick water break, and then meet me over there on the handball court.”

There were four more games to be played and filmed—handball, basketball, general gymnastics, and finally tug-of-war. In their now-glossy skintight bodysuits they ought to present quite a spectacle. Jenna smiled. This was just what she’d signed on for.

“And Jenna wins the day, three contests to two!” Merry said as the water sprayers in the center of the tug-of-war arena began to douse Christine. “We’re done here; time for you to hit the showers and take a lunch break!”

A couple of mobile cameras followed them into a small side building with a prominent “SHOWERS” sign on the front door. Christine put an arm over Jenna’s shoulders as they approached. Anyone watching the final film would get the distinct impression that the women were about to share the shower. Jenna had a sudden vivid mental image of such a scene, with Christine washing her back and then reaching around to rub soap suds all over her boobs....

Jenna shook her head and put the image aside as she walked through the door.

“You go first,” Christine offered. “That’ll give the crew time to get here with the cameras for my shower scene.”

The matter-of-factness of the statement somehow made a bigger impression than everything else that had happened over the past day and a half. “How can you be so casual about letting everybody see you naked?” There was no overtone of exasperation or judgment. There was only honest curiosity.

Christine looked surprised for a moment. “I’m just being honest with myself,” she answered. “I used to draw the line the same place it is in the contract—jiggling around in a tight little bikini, yes; bare tits and ass, no. I realized how silly that distinction really was one time when I was watching myself on TV with my girlfriend. I watched her watching me on the screen, and I could just tell that she was seeing me naked in her mind’s eye. It’s not like there was a lot of missing detail to fill in.”

“But that’s different,” Jenna said. “I mean, she already knew what you looked like naked, right?”

“No; she just knew what a woman in general looks like naked. We hadn’t actually gotten that far yet.” She laughed. “Don’t look so surprised. Sure, I would have screwed her brains out on the first date if she’d let me, but she didn’t, and I gave her time.“

“How come you’re not giving me time?” Jenna regretting that as soon as she blurted it out, but there was no taking it back.

Christine’s eyebrows rose into her hairline. “I thought I was just acting for the cameras and jerking your chain in between shoots.” She looked thoughtful. “It sounds like you might actually be interested if I don’t come on so strong. Well, in that case I’ll dial it back.”

Jenna stared back at her for a long moment. Was she actually letting Christine think she might be considering it? Was it worth playing that game to get Christine to back off on her aggressive lecherous-lesbian routine?

She took a deep breath. The slight motion of her body sent tingles running down her thighs and up her belly. The pad against her pussy had been making her more and more sensitive with each subtle stroke against her body. She needed privacy, before it got so bad she quit caring about privacy.

“If you’re serious about that offer, go away and come back in ten minutes—no, make that fifteen minutes.”

Christine gave a little curtsy... and her eyes went wide. She was clearly experiencing the same effect, and no doubt understood exactly why Jenna wanted her out of sight and earshot.

“See ya later.” She turned around and stepped out the door.

Jenna began stripping off the suit as soon as she was out of sight. For a moment, she imagined the other woman’s smirk as she heard the sound of zippers being yanked open. Her attention was then fully occupied with peeling the slick fabric off her hips. It fit tighter than ever after its oily soaking. With some effort, she got the waistband halfway down her thighs.

She could wait no longer. The twists and maneuvers had sent shock waves into her body. She needed release. She needed it now.

Sitting on a bench and bracing her back against a wall, she spread her legs as far as she could manage with the suit still wrapped around her legs. Her fingers found her needy clit, and she shuddered. There was no need for her usual warm-up strokes; she was already fully primed.

“Ah... aaaahhhh.... AAAAHHHHH!” she cried as a second touch pushed her over the brink. Her ragged breathing settled down into deep gulps, and then eased back to normal.

Had Christine heard that yell? She decided she didn’t care. There was nothing she could do about it now anyway.

Bit by bit, she tugged the suit off her body, then got into the shower stall to wash the smell of sweat and sex off of her. She cleaned herself quickly, thinking that Christine must be waiting impatiently for her turn. Maybe not, though. She might have found her own private place to take care of herself—or just found a convenient place without caring if anybody saw.

The idea that someone could have so little sense of modesty was strange, but she couldn’t stop thinking about it. As she wrapped a barely-adequate towel around herself for the walk back to the cabin, it occurred to her that Christine’s attitude certainly made some things in life a lot easier.

“As long as you’re here, you might as well take a look at this rough cut.” Merry pressed a button, and one of the monitors lit up. “It a remixed bonus scene to go with the poolside mini-episode. The working title is ‘Undercurrent’.”

Jenna had gone to Merry’s office right after lunch, hoping to clear the air on her exact situation. However, the director had told her to wait until she finished reviewing a cut she’d assembled from snippets of yesterday’s video.

The video of Christine removing her top played in dramatic slow motion as sultry sax music played.

“Christine! What are you doing?” Jenna’s voiceover protested as Christine pulled off the garment.

The camera closed in on the twirling fabric. “I’m just spicing things up a little.”

“Put that back on!” The top slowly sailed off into space.

“Or else what?” Quick cut to a closeup of Christine’s bare bosom.

There was a slow dissolve to a closeup view of Jenna’s face. It played for a few seconds in extreme slow motion, showing her apparently staring wide-eyed with her mouth already half open and her jaw dropping even further as the view dissolve again to Christine cupping and bouncing her boobs.

“Come on. You know you want to.” She didn’t remember Christine’s voice having such a blatant come-hither tone to it at the time. Apparently the audio engineer had tweaked it a bit to get that effect.

The video went back and forth between Bouncy-Boobs Christine and Wide-Eyed Jenna, with the pace of the transitions and the tempo of the music accelerating until it became a medley of nearly-subliminal jump cuts accompanied by a driving beat.

The music reached a crescendo, and then fell silent. A shot of Jenna looking particularly gobsmacked was followed by a quick closeup of her arms folding over her bikini-clad chest and her face turning away.

The camera returned to a view of Christine’s bare torso as the sultry sax resumed. “It’s your loss,” her voice cooed as the image panned upward to include both her smiling face and her naked chest. “The offer’s open any time you want to change your mind.”

Jenna’s in-person indignant squawk mingled with the final sax riff. Finally, she swallowed and got her voice working properly again. “That is not what happened! She was trying to talk me into taking my top off, not go to bed with her! Well, she keeps doing that, too, but you’re making it look like I’m starting to get tempted and freaking out over it!“

“Are you?”

“No!”

“No, you’re not tempted or no, you’re not freaking out?”

“You’re starting to sound like Christine!” Jenna snapped.

“You’re dodging the question.”

“No, I’m not tempted!” Jenna forced herself to speak calmly and sensibly. “I’m straight. I’m not gay. I like to sleep with men. I do not like to sleep with women. Is that clear enough?”

“Are you trying to convince me, or convince yourself? Frankly, I see a great deal of sexual tension on both sides.”

Jenna took a deep breath. Arguing the point now wasn’t going to help. “That’s one of the things I need to talk to you about. You’ve been pushing this lesbian ‘sexual tension’ angle really hard...” She trailed off, trying to think of a way to phrase her objections that didn’t sound homophobic.

“Actually, no. I’ve been holding it back to keep it relatively subdued and tasteful.”

“Subdued and tasteful?” Jenna echoed, unable to believe her ears.

“Compared to what the higher-ups are pushing for, yes.” Merry looked serious. “I shouldn’t really be telling you this, but I think you need to know.”

She scrunched her eyes shut and facepalmed. “I’ve been getting a steady stream of memos. Those empty suits don’t want to do the work of managing the project or take responsibility for the results, but they’re sure they know exactly what it needs. She looked up and continued in a mock-gravelly voice. “When are those babes gonna start really going at it?“

She sighed. “The mouth-to-mouth scene was the best option I could think of to satisfy the letter of their ‘requests’ without totally disrupting the gradual development of your character relationship.”

“Is this ‘character relationship’ supposed to end up with Christine getting me into bed?”

“That’s the natural endgame, yes. Again, I’m trying to make it subdued and tasteful instead of the tawdry skin show the higher-ups are pushing for.”

“Well, you tell the ‘higher-ups’ that I have a contract that says you can’t make me go that far.”

Merry shook her head. “You know better than that. There are all sorts of ways to get around rules limiting what you can and can’t show on camera. The movies used to have rules a lot stricter than your contract, and they found ways to show couples that were obviously about to have sex, just finished having sex, or even in the middle of having sex.”

Jenna knew she was right. There was nothing she could do about it if the story called for her to gradually warm up to Christine and become her lesbian lover. Even if she never got naked, and even if Merry kept things as “subdued and tasteful” as her bosses would allow, Christine’s shamelessness, exploited to the hilt by the “Got Game!” management, would turn the production into at least softcore lesbian porn.

All she could do was minimize her involvement and keep her name out of it.

“I’ll worry about that later.” Putting off the issue was the best she could do. “Anyway, let’s get back to what I came here about. I’m trying to salvage my career. You and your bosses are trying to ruin it.”

She gave Merry her best no-nonsense look. “Is the company going to let me use a pseudonym for this show?”

Merry paused a moment before answering. “I really thought they’d defer to my on-site judgment, but apparently not. Their position is that you can use a pseudonym if you actually need one.”

It wasn’t difficult to read between the lines. “In other words, if I ‘dare to go bare’.”

“Yes. If you ‘dare to go bare’.” Merry took Jenna’s hand in both of hers. “You have a decision to make. Which one is more important to you: your personal modesty or your professional resume?

She held up a hand. “Think about it a while. We’re extending the lunch break another hour while the crew sets up the next scene. You can give me your answer then.”