The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Magpie

By Colleen Whyte

“So have you heard?” Claire huddled conspiratorially over her friend Janice’s desk.

“Of course! It’s the buzz of the office,” Janice replied in quietly excited tones, keeping her voice down so that they wouldn’t attract attention. She was already on her second warning for too much “non-productive conversational activity”.

“It’s okay,” a third woman came in from the storeroom and joined the pair at Janice’s desk. “Mz Gatlee is away at a meeting.”

Janice and Claire relaxed at the news from Moana, if Mz Gatlee wasn’t in her office then they could do what they liked. There wasn’t even the likelihood of their superior catching them unawares because they had a clear view to the elevator.

Claire perched her bum on Janice’s desk, another rule infringement, and smoothed a crease out of her loose fitting slacks. “I heard that it’s worth at least forty grand!”

“What is?” Moana found herself being drawn in to the conversation against her better instincts. Unlike Claire and Janice she didn’t engage in much gossip but that didn’t make her any less curious.

“The ruby pendant!” Claire stated with authority, glad that it was news to somebody in the building. “It was stolen this morning.”

“Who did it belong to?” Moana asked. Being a small payroll processing firm they didn’t see much in the way of expensive jewellery in the building.

“The director’s daughter. Apparently it was a gift from her fiancée. It has a history—a French nobleman bought it from a witch and gave it to a woman that had spurned his advances. It was enough to win her over, but it didn’t end happily as she had an endless string of lovers.”

“So what happened? Now I mean, not in the fairy story.”

“She was showing it off to her daddy but took it off while she was in the bathroom. Someone filched it from there because it was too big to fall down the drain and they’ve torn the bathroom apart looking for it. Has to be an inside job too, because nobody else has access to the third floor.”

“Bet it was that Maggie Bowles,” Janice put in, “She’s always ‘borrowing’ stuff. Last week she took Muriel’s new jacket and wore it out to lunch, and before that she took my umbrella when it was raining. She would have kept it too if I hadn’t been on to her when I saw it in her locker.”

“She is always taking things,” Claire agreed, “If she goes past your desk you know that a pen or something else will go missing. We should call her Magpie instead.”

Moana didn’t say anything for several minutes as Claire and Janice continued to malign Maggie’s character. She didn’t like to say anything bad about anyone but she had been a victim of Maggie’s pilfering all too frequently. She also had a bit of information to share. Finally she broke. “I saw her ..” she began hesitantly.

“Saw her what?” Claire demanded.

“Saw her, Maggie, with something red and sparkly—it could have been the pendant.”

“Somebody should confront her about it,” Claire stated. “I know she folds like a soggy tent when people stand up to her. Maybe this would get rid of her altogether, and it certainly wouldn’t hurt the career of the girl who returned it.”

“So you gonna do it?” Janice challenged her friend, pretty sure of what the outcome would be.

“Yeah,” Claire jumped up as though she had suddenly made up her mind. “I’m going to march into her little cubicle and demand she hands it over.”

“You go girl,” Janice cheered on her friend as Claire strode out of the room.

* * *

It said a lot about Claire that she didn’t reconsider her course of action in the time it took her to ascend a floor and make her way through the cubicles to where Maggie normally resided. In the small space with its temporary walls, however, she found someone else.

“Mr Pilz?” she let out in surprise at finding the senior manager and his paperwork crammed into the space normally allocated to a junior administrator.

The middle aged man, sans his normal toupee and dour expression, looked up at his visitor and smiled. “Claire? Can I help you with something?”

“Um .. isn’t this Maggie’s desk?” The man’s vacant smile was making her feel distinctly uneasy.

“Why yes, but we thought it better if she had my office from now on.” The smile didn’t even flicker as he said this and Claire backed away.

“O-kay,” Claire said slowly and wondered what the hell had brought this on. Then she remembered her original mission and with a smile of satisfaction decided that whatever leverage Maggie had over Mr Pilz was about to go out the window when she was exposed for stealing the pendant.

Mr Pilz’s office had windows that looked out into his section but at the moment the blinds were in place and Claire was fairly sure that she would be anonymous as she knocked on the door. A curt (and smug Claire thought) ‘Come in’ gave her the invitation she needed.

Claire expected to find Maggie holed up like a weasel, furtive and nervous. Instead the woman appeared to be fully involved in her work, highlighting passages in a report. She barely spared a glance at her visitor, “Claire isn’t it? One of the gossips from downstairs.”

That comment put Claire back on her war footing. “I’m on to you!” she said a little louder than she had intended, “I know you stole the pendant.”

Maggie sat up and regarded her accuser with an amused expression, then before Claire could make any further accusations she produced a ruby pendant on a length of fine gold chain.

“You mean this one?”

Claire was dumbfounded, and she stared at the sparkling gem for several seconds before she got round to saying : “Yeah, that one .. I think.”

“It’s very pretty, isn’t it?” Maggie went on calmly, gently swinging the gem by its chain. “So pretty.”

“I .. yeah, pretty..” Claire found she couldn’t take her eyes away from it, couldn’t focus on anything else. She was vaguely aware that she couldn’t see Maggie or the desk or even the room they were in. All that was just a blur beyond the very sharp, swinging image of the red gem.

“Pretty, pretty,” Maggie said softly, “Pretty, sparkly. Sparkly, pretty. Such a deep red. Deep red.”

“Deep red,” Claire repeated.

“Washing away those silly thoughts. Pretty, pretty, deep, red. Makes you want something, makes you lust after something. Deep desires.”

“Want .. Gem?”

“No, not the gem. You want something even more precious. Crave. Desire. You need it so bad that it’s like being hungry all the time. You need cum.”

“Cum?”

“Yes. You need jism, spunk, cum. You need a man’s seed, to taste it, drink it, spread it over your body. Without it you’re not complete. You need to find a man, find men who will spray you with their jism. You will have to beg them of course, but you need it and you will do anything to get it.”

“Anything,” Claire could already feel the hunger, the discomfort growing. Why was this woman teasing her, taunting her, keeping her.

“You may go,” Maggie laughed dismissively and Claire was away and out of the office, towards where she knew the closest man to be—with his cock and his seed.

“Mr Pilz?” Claire attracted the manager’s attention hesitantly, hands clasped behind her back in shyness.

“Yes?” the man responded with the smile that she had found so spooky before but now just seemed to make what she had to do easier.

“Mr Pilz, could I give you a blowjob? Please?” a note of desperation entered Claire’s voice, she hadn’t known how to broach the subject but her desire was so overwhelming now that she couldn’t wait.

“I would like to accommodate you,” Mr Pilz replied as though there was nothing out of the ordinary in her request. “But I don’t know I have much left after obliging the rest of my staff.”

“Oh please!” Claire whined, she needed the taste of cum now, she didn’t think she could make it as far as the next man. She dropped to her knees in front of Mr Pilz, so close to the thing she desired, so close to his crotch where his delicious cock was hidden tantalisingly from her view by his trousers. “Please!” she pleaded as she pushed his knees apart and completely subjugated herself between his legs. “Please!”

“Well,” Mr Pilz regarded her with that same smile, seemingly unfazed by her charms. Claire desperately wished that she had had time to put on some make-up, some really slutty red shiny lipstick, She needed his cock in her mouth so bad and belatedly she was realising she wasn’t as appealing as she needed to be. She needed big, red, slutty lips if men were going to let her suck their cocks, and big boobs, and tight tops to show off her tits, and ..

“All right, then,” Mr Pilz finished.

That was all Claire needed and she tore apart the fly of his trousers, noting abstractly that the button had already come loose. Yanking the trousers down to his knees, she cooed in delight to see the head of his cock peeking above the waist band of his underpants. Flicking her tongue over the little slit she shivered in pleasure and peeled back his underpants to admire how the soft pink flesh was growing and hardening. Knowing what she needed to do, Claire held the base of his cock in her left hand as she played her tongue along the underside, thrilling in the texture of the throbbing veins.

As it grew in her hand, as the musky smell and white droplets formed at the tip, Claire’s other hand slid in through the waistband of her slacks to pleasure herself even as she pleasured Mr Pilz. Her pussy was already sopping wet, had been since Maggie’s office, but her fingers seemed to elicit more and more. Verging on a climax herself, Claire engulfed Mr Pilz’s cock with her mouth and came as it spurted a glob of nectar down her throat.

That was it though, Mr Pilz really was spent and his cock shrivelled from Claire’s mouth without fully satisfying her need. Sitting back on her haunches, she looked up sadly at Mr Pilz.

“Sorry, Claire,” he said kindly. “That’s all I have left. Tomorrow maybe?”

Claire cheered up a bit. “Okay,” she smiled sweetly. Besides, it had been enough to stop the madness of the craving, she could think straight again. There were all those gorgeous hunks of men down in the mail room, but first she was going to have to do something about her appearance—especially as she knew she would have competition.

* * *

“Where can that girl be?” Janice mused, looking at her watch. “It’s been over an hour.”

“Do you mean Claire?” Moana asked timidly.

“Of course I mean Claire!” Janice shot back rudely.

“I thought I saw .. I mean I saw her when I was delivering the stationery. She looked .. quite upset, crying I think. Said something about not feeling well and going home.”

“What? When was this?” Janice demanded, trapping her shy co-worker by the wall.

“Just after she went to see Maggie, I think ..” Moana shrunk back from the other woman’s anger.

“That bitch! I bet she pulled some nasty stunt on Claire. That would be just like her,” Janice vented, anger at her friend being wronged pushing aside any doubts as to the validity of Moana’s story. “Well, I’ll put her in her place.” And with that Janice was storming out along the same path as Claire had taken.

She found the upper office to be strangely quiet, in fact none of the cubicles were occupied and that was very strange, especially for the time of the day. There was also a strange odour in the air, and it seemed to be stronger in the cubicle where she would have expected to find Maggie. With no-one there, she was about to leave when she felt a presence in the room and turned to see Maggie standing in the open doorway to the office.

Anything she might have said died on Janice’s lips as Maggie produced the ruby pendant from her pocket and dangled it enticingly from the length of its chain. It began to swing back and forth, and Janice found her self drawn in to its movement and lustre. She wasn’t even aware that she was parroting Maggie’s words, falling deeper and deeper into a waking trance.

“Now Janice, you had something to say to me?”

“Uh,” Janice tried to respond, but even though it felt right to answer, her mind was fuzzy. The only thing she could make sense of was the red gem.

“Feeling a little horny, perhaps?” Maggie teased. “Maybe if you rubbed against the desk ..”

Somehow that appealed to Janice, grinding her groin against the edge of the desk without thought to what she was doing. It felt good and she liked it.

“You hate me, don’t you, Janice?”

Janice nodded, trying to get that last bit to take her over the edge.

“You hate me, because you want me to make love to you but I won’t.”

Was that really the case? Janice tried to think about it, but there was the need to cum and even now visions of Maggie, a super sexy, desirable Maggie were filling her head.

“Well, you can love me—but I’ll never be able to love a weak bitch like you.”

Janice’s grinding against the desk suddenly halted, the pleasure just vanished. She was almost in tears, felt like she had lost everything that mattered to her.

“But ..”

Hope welled up in Janice.

“I will let you make love to me. As long as you remember your place—that of my slave.”

The sensation of near orgasmic pleasure hit Janice, being Maggie’s abused slave sounded even better than being loved by her. As a slave she would have no needs beyond those of satisfying her mistress.

Maggie wasn’t finished though, she had just remembered something from the office party.

“Your boyfriend, Troy. He’s quite a hunk, isn’t he?” Maggie asked with visions of the handsome young man in her mind, of how Janice had shown him off like a trophy and had jealously kept him away from all the women.

“Yes mistress,” Janice found herself saying even as her natural self was screaming that no woman was even allowed to look at her boyfriend.

“I think we can give him a special treat tonight, a threesome perhaps.” Maggie carried on with evil glee. “I don’t think we’ll have much trouble convincing him, will we?”

“Mistress?” Janice’s limited imagination couldn’t follow what Maggie was suggesting. She was impressed with a desire to have sex with other women now, to be subservient to them, but she had no less desire for sex with her boyfriend.

“You, me and Troy,” Maggie explained, “Hot, wild passionate sex tonight, having your stud fucking my brains out while you suck on my tits. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Janice moaned as the image formed in her head, of the ultimate sexual submission to her mistress, of allowing, encouraging her Troy to pleasure Maggie.

“So I want you to get ready for tonight, to be properly attired for your role. I want you to get a decent make-over, make yourself attractive to me and him. And get a sexy little maid’s outfit for yourself, since you’ll be serving both me and Troy tonight in so many ways.”

“Yes mistress,” Janice unconsciously found herself doing a curtsy, before hurrying away to obey her mistress’ commands.

* * *

Mz Gatlee staggered in to the room, hand over her mouth to prevent herself retching and her skin pallid with shock. Coming in to the building she had heard strange noises coming from the mail room and had gone to investigate, thinking that the mail room staff were slacking with one of their silly games. Instead she had found a scene almost beyond description and well beyond her imagination.

The three men in the mail room had been partially undressed and in a circle around something on the floor, cheering and chanting obscene words like ‘bitch’, ‘slut’ and ‘dick-loving whore’. And then Gatlee had seen the object of their attention—it was Claire! She was naked, dishevelled and shiny with sweat and other substances, and she was actively encouraging the men, begging for their cum and promising to perform all sorts of lewd acts. With the excited laughter of the men ringing in her ears, Mz Gatlee had fled the scene, horrifying images of the scene replaying in her mind as she rode up in the elevator despite her best efforts to wash them away.

Her hope that she would find Claire sitting at her desk, that she had seen someone—or something—else was dashed. Of her three junior staff, only Moana was present. One last chance,

“Moana, do you know where Claire is?”

“I think she went to the mail-room, Mz Gatlee. She said she had a special treat for them but she didn’t seem to be carrying anything.”

Mz Gatlee weaved in to her office and fell heavily into her chair. My god, what could have come over the woman? “Moana!” she called out again.

“Yes, Mz Gatlee,” the shy woman appeared in the doorway, typical in her pose of clasped hands and hunched shoulders.

“Janice ... do you know where Janice is?”

“Um,” Moana began hesitantly, then in response to a sharp look from her superior went on quickly, “I think she might be taking another job. She said .. she mentioned something about going to buy a maid’s uniform.”

Mz Gatlee’s incredulous expression was washed away by loud voices from the hallway, and she dimly remembered that the bell for the elevator had just sounded to announce its arrival on her floor. Getting up from her desk she strode out to confront the high, chattering voices and froze in disbelief.

In the hall stood three giggling women, two she recognised (barely) from the accounts department and the third was the CEO’s wife. It was a wonder that Mz Gatlee did recognise them because all three of them were dressed in a fashion suitable only for a hip-hop video, with their breasts spilling out of too tight tops, hot pants that failed to hold in wisps of pubic hair and the trashiest make-up and hair she had ever seen. On the younger, slightly fitter women it was obscene. On Mrs Tennenbaum, a mature and plump woman, it was nearing hideous.

“Mel, you silly bimbo,” one of the younger women was saying, “You’ve put us out on the wrong floor.”

“Not a bimbo,” the other young woman laughed as though this was all a great joke, “I’m a slut—we’re all sluts. Bimbo’s is dumb, we’s sluts.”

“Because we like taking it up the ass,” Mrs Tennenbaum added with glee, “We’re dirty little man-fucking sluts that like to take it up the ass.”

Chattering on in a similar vein, the three women somehow made it back into the elevator and it wasn’t until the doors had shut that Mz Gatlee regained her senses. Reeling back to collapse into a chair, she knew something was very wrong. She needed to do something, to contact someone. Briefly she looked at Moana and quickly decided she would be of little use, in fact Mz Gatlee often thought that the timid woman was a bit simple. So what could she do?

Call the police, that was it. “Moana,” she ordered, “Get me an outside line ..”

“I’m sorry, Mz Gatlee,” Moana interrupted someone speaking for perhaps the first time in her life, “But the phones are all dead.”

“Then fetch my cellphone, girl, from my bag. It should be on my chair.” Mz Gatlee practically barked, and wiped the sweat away from her forehead. What the hell was happening? Several minutes passed, and Mz Gatlee looked towards her office.

“Hurry up! Surely you’ve found it by now? What the hell is taking you so long, girl?” her voice was getting a bit too close to screaming now. Silence greeted her demand and she was just about to go see what Moana was up to when the elevator doors opened again. With morbid horror she looked in that direction, and was momentarily relieved when she saw a very normal looking Maggie walking towards her.

Then Maggie produced the ruby pendant and began to swing it slowly back and forth. Mz Gatlee found her gaze being drawn in to the red gem, drawing upon so much attention that she couldn’t think to move. She felt that she was frozen, images of a deer caught in headlights flashed through her mind, and she was helpless as Maggie came closer and closer.

“Moana ..” she gasped out, speaking seemed to be the only thing she was capable of as the gem pulled away her will. “Moana .. get .. help ..”

“Why should I do that, Mz Gatlee?” came a very calm voice from beside her. Mz Gatlee couldn’t take her eyes away from the swaying ruby but she was dimly aware that Moana was next to her and far too calm for what was going on.

“Now, now, Mz Gatlee .. or shall I call you Bridget? I think your days of ordering Moana around are done.” Maggie said as she finally arrived in front of her last victim. “In fact I think you want to be a bit nicer to her, to be her pet in fact. You would like that, wouldn’t you, Bridget?”

“I .. I ..” Mz Gatlee tried to resist, to do anything but sit dumbly falling into Maggie’s hypnotic trap. She failed.

“From now on, Bridget, you are Moana’s pet. You will serve her as faithfully as any dog could, you will be as affectionate as a cat, as dependant as a caged bird. You will worship her as your mistress because that is what she is now. You need her for everything in life, you are no longer even able to feed yourself. And you love this, being her toy makes you so happy, so fulfilled. Doesn’t it Bridget?”

“Yes..” Mz Gatlee found herself agreeing. Deep down there was a shard of horror, of resistance, of humiliation at the pleasure she was feeling. That last shred of herself died as Moana fastened a collar around her neck and clipped a leash to it. With a sensation so close to orgasm Mz Gatlee fell down on her hands and knees and grovelled at Moana’s feet. She was no longer capable of understanding what the two woman were saying above her.

“There you go, darling Moana. I promised you a special treat when I made you my first victim. Aren’t you pleased?”

“Yes, mistress,” Moana replied, happily stroking Mz Gatlee’s head. “You will make it so that she’ll service me sexually as well, won’t you?”

“Of course. Now go play with your pet, I have a maid and fiancée to break in.”