The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Jillian Jinxed

by Pan

Chapter 2

The next morning, Jillian could hear Jeff’s hangover from her bed. The cursing as his alarm went off, the shuffling walk of a man in pain, the sigh of pleasure as a fresh cup of coffee touched his lips.

She considered getting up and seeing how he was, but her bed was warm, and she didn’t have anywhere to be until Monday, the first day of her new job. As he grumbled off to work, she reflected on the previous night—would Jeff be awkward, after what had happened?

Hopefully not—as far as Jillian was concerned, nothing awkward had taken place. He’d admired her ass, she’d let him have a quick grope in the back seat of the cab.

Besides, she thought with a smile, he certainly seemed to enjoy it. What’s a little butt-touching between friends?

When 11am rolled around, the young woman finally forced herself out of bed. Today represented her first day of freedom—freedom from her awful job at B&R, freedom from having to wear the same palette every day, and—it seemed—freedom from hangovers.

She hadn’t gotten completely smashed, but after the amount that she’d had to drink last night, she would normally have expected at least a headache. For whatever reason, she felt great, and so Jillian decided to head to the mall and buy herself some new outfits to celebrate.

* * *

She was standing in line for a coffee when she noticed.

The man across the room from her. He was, she had to admit, being subtle about it—but he was definitely checking her out.

He was definitely checking out her ass.

A naughty thought popped into Jillian’s head, and while she tried to ignore it, it quickly grew.

She’d gotten away with it yesterday…why not?

After all, she was a strong woman. A strong, powerful woman. She had the power to control men, to control their reactions. It would be an act of rebellion, an act that showed what a strong, powerful woman she was.

And besides…she wanted to.

Following your desires. Wasn’t that what strong, powerful woman did?

Jillian looked the other way. She wanted to make it seem accidental, like she just happened to be scratching an itch. One hand slowly ran up her bare leg, and when it came into contact with the mid-length skirt she’d picked out that morning, she didn’t stop.

As her hand moved, it lifted up her skirt, until her panties were clearly visible to the man who’d been staring at her—and probably the rest of the Starbucks as well.

The sound of someone choking on their beverage told her that she’d been noticed. For the next minute, as she waited in line, she oh-so-casually scratched her lower back, leaving at least half of one butt-cheek clearly visible to everyone in the room.

When her name was called, she pulled her hand away. As her skirt fell back into place, Jillian could have sworn she heard the sound of disappointment from every man in the room.

That was fun, she thought with a grin.

* * *

When Jeff came home from work that day, he was surprised to be met by his housemate’s exposed legs.

“Uh, Jillian…” he said, scratching his head, still clearly feeling the last lingering effects of the previous night’s drinks.

“Oh, sorry,” she said with a smile. “I didn’t think you’d mind—when I got home, I just needed to get out of those pants!”

That was a lie. First of all, Jillian hadn’t worn pants since the previous night—after her escapades at Starbucks, she’d gone on a shopping spree, looking specifically for clothes that emphasized her best feature. The (male) shop assistants had been more than happy to help out, and after two hours of men staring at her ass, Jillian had practically floated home.

Why stop there? she’d told herself. After all, it wasn’t anything sexual—in a moment of honesty, Jeff had told her the previous night exactly how much he appreciated her ass, and she figured letting him see a bit more of it around the house wouldn’t hurt.

And so she’d changed, into a bulky jumper…and a petite pair of pink panties that disappeared up her crack after just a few minutes of wearing them.

As she’d predicted, Jeff didn’t mind.

The rest of the weekend followed a similar pattern—at home, she just wore panties. While she was out and about, Jillian would give a little show to anyone she caught checking out her ass (a frequent occurrence). At first she continued pretending it was accidental—scratching an itch, finding excuses to bend over and pick something up. She went to the gym in a leotard, forgoing the running shorts she’d normally wear over them.

The sight of her bending over to pick up her towel caused a personal trainer to accidentally drop a thirty-pound weight onto his client.

On Sunday, however, she wore stockings and went shopping for a thong. G-strings had never been held much appeal before, but she was curious to see if Jeff would say anything—aside from appreciate staring (which he tried to mask every time she caught him), he hadn’t mentioned her choice of apparel so far—he’d either forgotten their conversation in the cab, or decided not to bring it up.

Apparently guys like stockings, she told herself. She’d thought her outfits were getting their fair share of attention before, but with the stockings, people were actually stopping to stare as she walked past. In response to their blatant leers, she’d given up on pretending not to notice—any time a guy looked at her, she would lift her skirt up to show him what she was wearing underneath.

At the start of the day, that was a pair of form-fitting boy shorts. After an hour of shopping, however, the shorts had been replaced by a white G, which split her ass perfectly in two.

It didn’t exactly match the stockings she was wearing, but no one really seemed to mind.

The salesman had asked if she’d rather be helped by a woman, but Jillian had insisted that he was the man for the job. After getting his opinion on several pairs, she’d felt compelled to go further.

“How does it feel?” she’d asked, taking his hand and putting it onto her mostly-bare ass. His fingers never even touched the thin piece of material, but his stammering response had been overwhelmingly positive.

“Good,” she’d beamed, and bought one in every colour.

Dinner with Jeff had been awkward. He’d arrived home to find her putting the finishing touches on a roast pork, wearing a pastel-pink sweater and a G-string to match. She’d thought that if he didn’t comment on her choice of underwear, he’d at least say something about the heels, but he’d just gone red and mumbled his appreciation as she carved him a slice.

“How was the date?” she asked.


“Weren’t you at coffee with that girl from the club? Millie, or Nellie, or…”

Jeff just stared at her blankly, clearly struggling to keep eye-contact.

“Your date, Jeff,” she said with a laugh. “What was her name?’

“Oh! Uh, um…oh shit, what was it…”

“Never mind,” Jillian said, unable to keep the smirk off her face.

* * *

Jillian’s first day at work went almost as well as her interview. As soon as she strode in on her new five-inch heels, she knew the flouncy mini-skirt had been a strong choice—it attracted every eye in the building, and with every step she knew she was making a killer first impression.

She settled into her new desk quickly—she was sharing a cubicle-space with a guy named Ryan. Ignoring the hand he’d held out, Jillian went straight for the hug—which, after a brief moment of confusion, he returned warmly.

As they embraced, the strangest thought struck her. Wouldn’t it be nice, she mused, if he were to fondle my ass as we hugged.

The soft touch of the salesman the previous day had felt so good, and of course Jeff’s administrations in the cab had been a highlight of the night. It wasn’t a sexual thing, Jillian reminded herself—it just felt so nice to be touched.

Maybe after we get to know each other a bit better I’ll suggest it.

* * *

The train-ride home was long—the one real disadvantage of Jillian’s new job. As she rode, she was reminded of her encounter with the priest. They’d been alone—crammed in with so many people on her daily commute, she’d never be able to do something like that.

Of course, there was more room on the station platform. Yes, Jillian told herself. On the station, I could flash whoever I like…

With a smile, Jillian spent the rest of the trip imagining the reactions she’d get. Businessmen, business women, university students—they’d all be staring at her perfect cheeks, wishing they could touch them, wishing they could see them whenever they wanted, wondering how they felt…

* * *

That night, Jillian realized she had to do something.

“Jeff,” she said, sitting down in front of him wearing a halter-top and a blue G-string, “This situation has become untenable.”

“What are you talking about?” he said, firmly keeping his hands by his sides.

“I know you remember Thursday night. I know you’ve been checking me out all week. You’re my best friend, Jeff—I want things to go back to how they used to be.”

“Well…” Jeff started, but before he could finish his thought, Jillian interrupted with a plan of her own.

“I want you to touch it.”


“My ass. I know you want to. I don’t blame you. I feel so much more comfortable around the house when I’m allowed to dress however you like, and if you’re finding it unbearable, there’s only one way to solve it.”

“Jillian, I’m not sure…”

“Touch it!” she exclaimed, turning around and sticking her butt out.



Obviously struggling with his conscience, Jeff paused for a full ten seconds before reaching out and planting one hand onto each of Jillian’s cheeks, exactly as he had in the cab. At her encouraging nod, he began kneading and squeezing her pert globes.

Jillian could practically feel the tension leaving his body.

They stood there for several minutes, Jeff pinching and caressing her rear.

“Give them a little spank,” Jillian suggested, and with a nod Jeff did as she instructed. His mouth was open with pleasure as he tweaked and played, clearly letting several days of built-up frustration leave his body.

“There,” she said finally. “Doesn’t that feel better?”

“Mmm-hmm,” he said, showing no signs of slowing down.

“Any time you feel like touching me, do it. Please.”

“Okay,” Jeff replied, his attention still on Jillian’s butt.

They stood there for another ten minutes before Jeff had finally had his fill, and when he awoke to find her making pancakes the next morning, he toyed with her exposed ass the whole time she cooked.

* * *

“Jillian!” her new boss said the next day. “It’s so good to finally meet you—I’m sorry I wasn’t able to make your interview, but the boys tell me that you did just fine.”

“That’s great to hear,” Jillian replied with a smile.

When she’d received the summons, she’d been nervous. His secretary had assured her it was nothing to worry about—just a standard meet-and-greet, but she’d been worried that she’d somehow managed to do something wrong already.

“How are you finding it here?”

“I love it,” Jillian replied, trying not to gush. “Everyone is just so nice…and I’ve got to admit, the dress code is amazing.”


The tone of his reply was worrying. As her new boss’s eyes travelled up her body, however, she knew there was nothing to worry about.

She was a strong, professional young woman. And it was clear from the way he was looking at her that on at least one level, he appreciated the way she was dressed.

His gaze briefly paused at the denim skirt she’d decided on that morning, and a wicked thought entered Jillian’s head. Within a second it had gone from being a thought to a compulsion—she knew she should fight it, but the idea was just too strong, she couldn’t resist…

As her boss stared, Jillian turned around, and put both her hands on his wall. His eyes widened in surprised as the young woman leaned forward, and thrust her rear towards him. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, she reached down and slowly lifted up her skirt, showing him that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

She’d put on underwear that morning, but a similar impulse had struck her on the train. Sure, she couldn’t flash anyone—it was too crowded…but what could she do?

Nestled between the other passengers, Jillian had reached down and slowly lowered the black G-string she’d picked out that day. First one side, then the other. Once she’d tugged it down far enough, she was able to drop it the rest of the way simply by wiggling her hips back and forth.

When she’d left the train that morning, she’d left her panties behind, and now she was showing off her handiwork to her new boss—in their first meeting, nonetheless.

With a smile, she lifted her hand up and waved. Wordlessly, the middle-aged manager waved back at her, and as Jillian sauntered out of the room, she wondered what had come over her…

…and why it felt so good.

* * *

That day, on the train home, Jillian had another wicked thought. It was probably a bad idea, she knew that, but she just loved the feeling of power that following her small whims gave her.

I am a powerful woman, she told herself. And I have a fantastic ass.

When she’d gotten back to her cubicle, she’d given Ryan another hug. This time, she’d held it for close to a minute—she knew he’d found it strange, but he hadn’t said anything.

She’d wondered if he was thinking about touching her ass. She really wished he would.

On the train, she’d reached out and grabbed the first hand she’d encountered. With a strength she didn’t know she possessed, she overpowered its resistance, and moved it to her ass. After a brief pause, it began touching and stroking her bare butt. She reached out and grabbed another one for the other cheek.

The rest of the trip home was spent in silent bliss for Jillian, as she enjoyed the sensation of her ass being fondled, the thrill of not even knowing who was touching her.

* * *

Somehow, Jeff had beaten her home that day. Neither of them said anything as Jillian walked through the door—she just immediately wriggled out of her skirt, and brought Jeff’s hand to her ass. He followed her into the kitchen, where she pushed him onto a chair and lay down on top of him.

“Spank me,” she said through gritted teeth. “Please, Jeff—I need it.”

For the next twenty minutes, the kitchen was filled with two sounds—the slap of Jeff’s hand on Jillian’s ass, and the moans coming from both of their mouths.

* * *

Jillian’s boss avoided eye-contact when they ran into each other in the hall the next day.

Oh god, she thought. It’s the Jeff situation all over again.

Fortunately, she knew exactly how to stave off any awkwardness. She didn’t say a word as she walked up to him, firmly grabbing both his hands and pulling them to her ass. To her surprise, he pulled her towards him—she squeaked slightly at his forcefulness, enjoying the feeling of her body pressed up against his. A few people passed them in the hall as he roughly groped at her buttocks, but none of them said anything.

He seemed surprised to find that she was wearing a thong. Jillian was keen to impress her new employer, so—just as she had on the train the previous day—she soon wriggled out of it, and gave it to him as a gift.

She wondered if Ryan would be open to giving her a quick spanking when she returned to their cubicle.