The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Laura watched the door to the meeting room, her nerves utterly shot. Whatever Lucille did, it obviously worked. If neither Ion’s self-imposed sense of responsibility nor Arnil’s stubbornness proved sufficient to shrug it off, what could she hope to do...? Wait, no, she was being ridiculous. Laura clenched her hands around her uniform and looked at her two coworkers. She couldn’t let herself think of Lucille as some kind of otherworldly force- she’d just psych herself out that way. Lucille must just be really good with words, and it’s not like her disposition and natural charisma didn’t lend well to that. Plus...bitch was scary, and that helped too.

Ion would shake it off in time, and Laura could rely on Melissa. Even if the trainer had...seduced Arnil, or whatever, all Laura had to do to preserve their majority vote was stay steady herself. She could do that... and besides, she had to. She tried to fight, and failing that to ignore, the growing sense of unease that gnawed at her insides. Lucille took a long time with Melissa. Laura told herself this was a good thing. She insisted, in between her glances at her phone, that it meant Melissa was as reliable and protective as always. The soft safe lady would never cowtow to this cruel-

The door swung open. A very disoriented Melissa stumbled in, looking at once ashamed and absolutely aglow with joy. Laura watched in horror as Melissa flopped uselessly into a chair and cast her glazed eyes straight up. Those eyes seemingly stared not at the ceiling but through it, off for miles into unknown infinity. Laura felt an immense pit peel open in her stomach that rapidly expanded into a yawning abyss. She couldn’t believe it...she refused to believe it...!

“Melissa?” Laura asked only half out loud. Her voice drifted out of her mouth shaky and terribly unfirm. If not for the overall silence of the room, Laura might not have even spoken loud enough to hear her own voice. “Melissa...?” She repeated, a little louder this time. The blonde didn’t respond. She showed no signs she’d even heard the question, in fact. Laura felt a shock like ice water splash across her insides. This couldn’t be real, this wasn’t Melissa, it wasn’t right...!

“Your turn, Laura,” came the sound of Lucille’s voice. It sliced Laura’s ears like a knife, despite how beautiful it was (as always). Laura turned towards the sound and only then realized she’d left her seat and crept fearfully over to Melissa’s. She had her hands on Melissa’s shoulders, which they clenched instinctively. “Come, come. You don’t want to keep me waiting, do you?” Laura felt like a deer in headlights. Lucille’s eyes burned her, threatened to scorch the clothes from her body- no, the very flesh. Lucile’s gaze sported the eyes of nothing less than a demon.

“I don’t want to go,” Laura tried to say, but no sounds escaped from her. “Ion, please, help me,” she wanted to plead, but she couldn’t turn her face from Lucille’s. “Arnil, please, help me,” she intended to shout but her mouth wouldn’t move. “Melissa, please, help me,” she managed to force out in a pathetic squeak.

“It’ll be okay,” Melissa whimpered with a vacant smile. Lucille’s lips curled into a devilish grin and Ion turned to stare in horror. “You’ll be alright. Everything is quite alright...isn’t it, Arnil?”

“Yeah...” Arnil answered, staring broken at Melissa’s chest and grabbing at her own. “Everything will be quite alright...whatever you say, Melissa...”

Laura’s stomach churned in horror. What was going on? None of them should have been acting like that! She tore her eyes from the woman who had broken her coworkers to look at each of them in turn. Melissa’s look of almost drugged bliss, Arnil’s mournful expression of pained envy...what was going on with Ion...?

“Ion...please...” Laura whimpered. Ion just looked down, unable to meet her gaze. Laura’s mind burned with an overwhelming panic. She felt...betrayed. she felt cornered, outnumbered, she felt-

“Dear.” A pair of hands gripped Laura’s face gently. They had long, slender, thoroughly uncalloused fingers. She knew without looking the hands belonged to Lucille. Laura failed to resist having her face pulled to point it at Lucille. The slightly older woman licked her lips and her eyes lit up at the sight of Laura’s terror. She began to stroke Laura’s face gently, one thumb tending to each of the girl’s cheeks. “You look unwell. Let’s get some fresh air, okay?” Laura didn’t want to nod her head yes. Laura did not want to smile. Laura knew fresh air would not help. Laura knew that compliance was a terrible idea.

Laura nodded. Laura smiled. “I think fresh air is exactly what I need,” said Laura. “Thank you, that’s a wonderful idea.”

Laura felt cold inside as she followed Lucille up the stairs. Lucille held her hand. Laura hated how comfortable the other woman’s grip felt, how she couldn’t help but feel more relaxed and limply follow wherever Lucille led her. She knew, rationally, that she was in a trap. She knew she should feel terrified. She had nobody to help her, nobody to stand up for her.

And yet, the hand holding hers promised safety and comfort. She couldn’t resist holding onto it like a life raft. She couldn’t resist the growing feeling of trust that it fostered inside of her. Lucille’s touch felt so warm and comfy. Laura knew now she couldn’t trust the others. They had betrayed her. Left her out to dry, let her down...they had failed her. Failed to protect her.

From LUCILLE, Laura tried to remind herself as she was gently guided up the stairs. They seemed much longer than usual. Lucille is...Lucille is...Lucille is... Laura kept thinking to herself. Each time the words for what Lucille was escaped her, she felt more and more panicked. Lucille is...Lucille is...Lucille is...she felt so alone and afraid. Could she...not even trust her own mind anymore?

“Beautiful,” said Lucille.

Lucille is beautiful, Laura’s mind concluded immediately. She smiled and felt a flash of nice warmth within her. Wait...that wasn’t the word...!

Laura felt yet another chill. It felt like a winter’s storm had flown through her body in the span of a second. It passed. She struggled to remind herself she had been thinking of a different word. One that...wasn’t praise...right...?

“Look at me,” said Lucille, sounding slightly agitated. Fear threatened to swallow Laura whole. She came to a complete stop instantly. She stared fearfully at Lucille. She...stared...

God, she realized, Lucille was BEAUTIFUL. Her eyes wandered skittishly from Lucille’s long delicate hair to her big lively breasts, the feline look on her face- that of a woman endearingly pleased with herself- the menacing flash of perfect pearly white between her thick kissable lips, the alluring curves of her hips and bust...Laura suddenly felt aroused. Lucille pulled her closer. Laura stumbled up the last stair. She didn’t have time to be scared of falling before Lucille’s ephemerally perfect body stood mere inches from her. She didn’t feel it when the breath caught in her throat. She stared.

“beautiful...” murmured Laura to herself. That hadn’t been the word she was thinking of. She knew that. She...thought she did. But now, it was the only way that train of thought could ever have ended. Lucille is beautiful. Lucille is beautiful. Lucille is beautiful. Laura couldn’t imagine describing Lucille any other way. There might be other words you could use, theoretically- to describe the sharpness of her demeanor, or her cruelty, or her status of moderate wealth, but her looks simply...made it all irrelevant. To describe her any other way discounted the orgasm for the eyes that was getting to look at her.

“Beautiful?” Teased Lucille with a knowing smirk. Laura nodded helplessly, her eyes growing wide and unfocused. Any fight she somehow had left in her abandoned ship.

“You’re...beautiful,” Laura admitted. She felt ashamed to spell out her own defeat like that, ashamed to be saying this to a ruthless strikebreaking bitch, ashamed to be so quick to praise someone who would slap Arnil for failing to praise a rude customer. But yet...she couldn’t deny the truth. It had to be said. “I think you’re beautiful.”

“You think I’m beautiful?” Asked Lucille with all the venom of a murder accusation. “Surely you can do better than that. Or do you want to do our negotiating while I’m angry, darling~?”

The combination of threat and praise motivated Laura instantly. Her mouth moved of its own will as she answered automatically, “you are beautiful, Lucil—”

“MISTRESS.”

Lucille slapped her. The hit made her stumble back. Her foot missed the floor and she realized with horror-

The stairs—!

Her body lurched sickeningly back. Laura’s life flashed before her eyes. The time she’d seen this place’s uniform and applied on a whim. Her mother’s concerns about it. The way Ion and Melissa tried so hard to protect her from-

From mean customers?

Laughable.

They’d left her. Abandoned her. She was going to hit the hard stairs any second and-

“Are you alright, darling?” Cooed Lucille’s voice. Laura’s eyes- she must have snapped them closed when she felt herself falling- drifted open. She was standing at the top of the stairs, leaned dangerously back, but Lucille held her by her collar. “That looked scary. But I got you, okay? You can rely on me.” She smiled. It was a viper’s smile, a traitorous smile, and yet...

“Y-you...saved my life,” Laura whimpered as tears built in her eyes. Could Ion have caught her? Could Melissa? She knew Arnil couldn’t. Would any of them even try? The hypothetical hung heavy over her, made a greater burden by their utter abandonment of her earlier. “Wh...why?”

“Because you’re a good maid,” purred Lucille as she pulled in and brought Laura back to the top floor. Laura’s mind swam in endorphines, far too many to think or even feel straight. “Now stand at attention. For me.”

“Yes Mistress!” Cried Laura with sudden enthusiasm and respect to boot. She stood totally straight, arms politely behind her. She stared adoringly at Lucille, and curled her mouth into an inviting smile just like she’d been taught.

“More trust!” Demanded Lucille.

“Yes...Mistress?” Laura answered, confused. Lucille stepped towards her, arms up-

Laura leaned away and flinched.

“See?” Lucille purred with an evil grin. She stepped closer, forcing Laura back to the top of the stairs but not a step further. “Not enough trust. You need to project absolute faith in your master to be a good maid, no?” Lucille paced in a half-circle around Laura, truly closing her in.

“I-y-yes Mistress!” Answered Laura, afraid. “Complete and total trust!”

“That’s right, maid,” Lucille said back. “You must be completely confident in your Master. You must make it perfectly clear nothing- not evidence, not actions- can shake your trust. A blindly loyal maid is a good maid right?”

“Yes Mistress!” Answered Laura. Her emotions felt all jumbled up- fear, trust, arousal, worry. She didn’t know what to think, so she obeyed. She returned to her previous posture. She stared adoringly at Lucille. She smiled. “Absolute trust!”

“No, darling,” said Lucille. She smacked her lips with a smug “tsk tsk” and made a face of faux disappointment. “You claim to trust me completely, but you don’t. You’re afraid. You can smile all you want but your body- it doesn’t trust me. You want to be a good maid, don’t you?“

“Y-yes, Mistress!” Laura answered. She watched as Lucille pushed-

“See?” Lucille asked as Laura opened her eyes. Laura stood once more at the top of the stairs. She’d been pushed, grabbed, and rescued. “You need to trust me completely. I have you, no matter what. Until you believe it, until you really, truly trust me- we’re doing trust falls over and over again.” She shoved, harder this time.

But Laura didn’t tumble down the stairs. She stumbled in the opposite direction (when had Lucille repositioned like that?). She caught herself easily enough and returned to standing up straight. “Really Lucille, I—”

“Nah ah ahh,” chided Lucille. “MISTRESS.” She slapped Laura across the face in the same spot as last time. It stung even worse, compounding with the dull throb of pain that had softened her for it. She could only imagine how red the stinging part of her face was. “You need to behave yourself, okay?” The concern dribbling from Lucille’s mouth rang as hollow as it was irresistable. “Your poor mother would be so hurt if you came home with a big red imprint all over your face...wouldn’t she?”

“Y-yes,” moaned a pained Laura. Her heart shattered as she imagined her poor mother ripped up inside thinking some abusive boyfriend was tormenting her daughter...totally unaware that it was Laura herself to blame.

“Your mother trusts you,” continued Lucille as she stood and examined the hand she’d hit Laura with. The woman’s beautiful fingers danced and flexed under her gaze. She almost looked like an alluring monster checking its delicate claws for damage after a kill. “But have you earned it?”

“Yes, Mistress,” whimpered Laura.

“Have you?” Asked Lucille.

“I...” well, Laura realized...if she’d been right the first time, Lucille wouldn’t still be asking, right? So that meant...“no. I...haven’t.”

“So you lied to me, is that it?”

“Yes Mistress.”

Lucille pulled her shoulder back for another slap. Instict took the reins from Laura, yanked her head back and her arms up. She screwed her eyes shut, braced to be hit again...

And Lucile gently caressed the smarting region of her face. It should have made the pain worse- Laura knew that- but yet Lucille’s soft touch soothed it better than a million kisses from a million mommies ever could. Laura smiled and allowed her arms to drop. She went back into position. She felt...safe.

“You see darling, my shitty dad always says people are like donkeys,” Lucille said in a manner of fact sort of tone. “Some of them respond to sticks, some of them to carrots. My dad, you know, the thing was he always used sticks. Always. It worked well enough on my brothers, but me? Well...I like carrots. Punishments only made me angry. How was I supposed to improve if every half-measure away from my first mistake got me the same stick?”

Laura nodded along, unsure where this was going. She trusted Lucille to have a point, though. Lucille had saved her from falling down the stairs, and hadn’t hit her last time she earned it. Lucille was kind.

“But the thing is, dear, carrots won’t work on you on their own. Melissa, you see, her? Her you can string along with just carrots. Arnil, she feels entitled to them so you gotta use a lot of sticks if she’s going to listen. And Ion...well. I know their type. So proud and arrogant and full of themselves...they needed a reality check before any training could work. You follow?”

Laura nodded. “What do I need then, Mistress?”

“A bit of both, like most people,” Lucille giggled. She kept patting and touching the mark on Laura’s face, making the maid feel more and more loved and at ease. She’d be perfectly alright. Maybe Melissa was right...

“Yes, Mistress. Thank you Mistress,” replied Laura. “You’re too kind, Mistress.”

“I know, darling,” coo’d Lucille as she continued to gently stroke Laura’s face. “Now tell me you trust me.”

“I trust you, Mistress,” said Laura with a comfortable smile.

“I would never hurt you,” said Lucille. She kissed Laura on the lips. Laura rumbled a pleased “mmmm” from deep inside herself but stayed polite, stayed immobile.

“That’s right, Mistress,” said Laura as she stared off the roof. “You would never hurt me.”

“I would never lie to you,” said Lucille and she kissed Laura again. “You trust me.”

“You would never lie to me,” Laura sighed in agreement. She felt so comfortable and safe. “I trust you, Mistress.”

“Is that red on your face from me slapping you?” Asked Lucille with a knowing grin.

“Yes, Mistress. You punished me. I trust you, Mistress.”

“So I hurt you?”

“No, Mistress, of course not,” said Laura happily. She didn’t tense a muscle. “You would never hurt me.”

“But I slapped you, didn’t I?” Pressed Lucille, giggling at some perverse joke Laura couldn’t grasp.

“Yes, Mistress. But I had to be punished. For my behavior. I hurt me.” Lucille laughed again and wound up another slap. Laura just stared happily into the distance- she saw, but didn’t care. Lucille would never hurt her.

“Goood girl,” said Lucille, and she licked her lips.

“Yes, Mistress. Thank you Mistress.”