The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Chapter 4

As she cycled to work the next morning, Carlotta cursed her choices of the previous night.

She’d been so calm at work all day—except for when talking to Matilda, of course—that she’d thought her hormones must have calmed down again, and so she’d decided to do something else she basically never did.

She’d decided to go shopping.

A first-year head chef in a small Gilliestone cafe doesn’t make a lot of money, but Carlotta had always been sensible with her spending, and so she had a reasonable amount of money tucked away for a rainy day.

Now, she barely had enough for a short sun shower.

It had been well worth it, she’d decided. She had bought what was basically a whole new wardrobe—her old clothes had a certain look to them. Cute, frilly outfits—pastel sundresses and polkadot skirts.

Time for a new look.

Lately she’d been feeling so much more…adult. Sexual. It was starting to affect her professional life, and so obviously the best way to nip it in the bud was to express it in safe ways.

She couldn’t suck Jason’s cock in the middle of a shift. She couldn’t spend every break they shared on her knees, lovingly taking his member into his mouth, looking up at him with lust as his eyes fluttered with pleasure.

As hot as it would be, Carlotta couldn’t slowly slide his thickness past her lips, swirling her tongue around his head, enjoying the sensation of a man using her mouth for his pleasure, both of them getting off at the total decimation of their working relationship, the reversal of power…

No. No, that would be inappropriate.

But what she could do was the next best thing—she could show a little more skin, dress a little more scandalously. She couldn’t suggest that he let her gag on his cock until there were tears in her eyes…not in words, anyway.

Instead, she could wear an outfit that screamed all of the above, while still being totally appropriate for a workplace environment.

After all, she’d have an apron over it. How could anyone be offended if she was wearing an apron?

A few hours into her shift, Carlotta was beginning to regret some of her fashion choices. The four-inch heels had seemed so sexy and alluring on the shelf, but kitchen floors often got slippery, and a few times now she’d only just managed to stop herself from falling over while carrying a tray of ingredients.

And while the sleeveless T-shirt (with no bra underneath) did an amazing job of showing off her tits and hard nipples, she was starting to remember why chefs typically wore sleeves—four times now she’d had to run an arm under cold water after being hit by a splatter of grease.

Fortunately, the apron was long enough that her short shorts weren’t causing an issue. She couldn’t wait until Jason—or Matilda—came in, and saw her endlessly long legs mincing around the kitchen, perfectly accentuated by the heels.

As soon as Jason entered, however, all of her regrets disappeared. His eyes boggled at the sight of her, and she was secretly thrilled when she noticed that he wasn’t able to take his eyes off her.

She seized every opportunity she could to bend down in front of him, or stretch and show off her assets as best she could. And at the end of the day, when her shift was complete, she took off her apron and spent almost a full hour flirting with him.

It was clear that his eyes were struggling to look anywhere but her tits, and as they chatted, she moved closer and closer to him, casually touching his arm as he cooked, running one hand up and down his back, enjoying the way he was getting more and more orders wrong as their discussion became increasingly sexual.

Finally, Jason sent out the final lunch order of the day, and Carlotta made her move. In that moment, she forgot that the point of her slutty outfit had been to make her less likely to sacrifice their professional relationship, she forgot that she wanted to continue working with Jason for years to come, she forgot that what she was doing could make her lose her job entirely.

All she cared about was Jason’s lust for her, the erection that she’d caused in his pants, and how amazing it would feel to wrap her wet lips around it and bring him to pleasure…

Reaching under his chef’s cap, she grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled his head down until his lips were touching his. She squealed with delight as his huge hands roughly cupped her ass-cheeks, and his tongue entered her mouth.

And then she squealed again, this time in shock, as he pulled back.

“I’m sorry,” he rasped.

“What?” she said, stunned.

“I…I can’t…”

“Why not?”

“Tonight, I…”

Carlotta gaped at him as he struggled for words, his eyes still glazed over with lust.

“I…I have a date with Matilda.”

The young woman’s eyes widened, and she stumbled back.

“I’m so sorry,” she mumbled. “I…I should have known.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated back to her.

Her vision blurred with tears, and before she knew what she was doing, she stumbled into the cafe. Almost all the customers were gone, and Matilda was cleaning up the last few plates. Her thick red hair was down for once, and she was wearing a short pleated skirt and a white blouse that exposed her entire midriff. The end of her long hair rested on her plentiful cleavage, and she gasped with shock as the scantily-clad chef embraced her.

“I’m sorry,” Carlotta sobbed into Matilda’s shoulder. “I didn’t know!”

“Didn’t know what?” Matilda replied, baffled, and when Carlotta went totally silent, the redheaded waitress turned to see what her colleague was suddenly so transfixed by.

On the table behind the spot that Carlotta had unexpectedly tackled the waitress was a bowl of alphabet spaghetti, with letters carefully arranged to spell out a message.

“Kjrt vjsk ae ujt wilpertl.”