The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Hi, honey,” Paige gushed as she opened the door. She planted a quick kiss on Bill’s cheek as he stepped inside. He looked tense. “Hard day at work?” she asked sympathetically.

J. William Sinclair sighed as he set his briefcase down on the small table in the apartment’s foyer. “They’re all hard, Paige,” he said, sliding one arm behind her back. The slender blonde smiled as he pulled her close, his eyes locked on hers. He may be over twice my age, she thought but he still has charm by the boatload.

Paige allowed him to kiss her briefly before sliding free and removing his heavy coat. “Go sit down and I’ll make you a drink,” she said, hanging the coat up neatly in the small closet. After a quick peek at her cleavage, Bill went to the living room and sat on the leather sofa. Paige smiled. The dress she was wearing had been a gift from Bill; it was no surprise that he enjoyed the way it showed off her boobs.

Her high heels clicking on the polished floor, Paige strode into the living room and walked over to the wet bar. She began mixing an Old Fashioned. There was no need to ask what he wanted to drink; after several months of weekly appointments, she knew Bill’s needs by heart. All his needs. She glanced at him as she tapped the sugar into the glass. He was eyeing her body, his gaze sliding up her legs to rest on her ass. She knew the look on his face.

Paige had first seen that look on his face at their third appointment. She hadn’t realized what it meant, though, until the next week when he’d shown up at the “trick pad” with a fancy silver bracelet for her. The bracelet, which she always wore for him, had probably cost him at least five hundred dollars—well over twice the fee for the one-hour trysts. It was at that point that she’d realized he was smitten.

Paige had found the realization rather exciting. The idea that she was so attractive that a married bank president in his mid-fifties could develop a schoolboy crush on her left her feeling almost giddy. She’d been an escort for two years and never had she experienced anything like it. She didn’t love Bill, and she never pretended to, but Paige nevertheless found herself looking forward to their weekly meetings. It had been a long time since she’d had to use any artificial lubricant when Bill made love to her—the idea that he had a crush on her got her wet every time.

After the bracelet, the gifts had come regularly—a dress one week, a pair of shoes the next. Bill’s presents were far more expensive than the things Paige bought for herself. She was, after all, barely twenty-one years old, struggling to make ends meet while paying tuition and attending college full-time. But it wasn’t the value of the gifts that she found so touching—after all, to a man of Bill’s considerable wealth, a silver bracelet was something to be bought with pocket change. What Paige found so appealing was the thought that went into them. The gifts were tangible evidence of this powerful man’s feelings for her, the physical proof of his infatuation.

There had also been little favors. After they’d been seeing each other for two months, Bill had offered to start paying her utility bills. She had tried to politely decline, but Bill had been persistent, and Paige had agreed, realizing afterwards that she enjoyed having him take care of her. Paige had never really encouraged Bill in his obsession, but neither had she discouraged him, because at the core she realized she liked it.

Paige finished the Old Fashioned, making a mental note to tell Nicole to get more sugar. Paige and Nicole split the rent on the apartment, using it for “entertaining” their johns. Paige used it in the afternoon and Nicole in the evening. After fixing herself a club soda, Paige placed the drinks on the glass coffee table and sat down on the couch next to Bill.

Bill loosened his well-tailored business suit as he sipped his drink. “You look beautiful, Paige,” he sighed.

“Thanks,” she replied. “I really like the necklace,” she added, fingering the diamond-studded pendant that hung just above the swell of her breasts. The necklace had been Bill’s gift the previous week. Like most of his gifts, it had cost several times her weekly fee.

Paige still felt odd getting all dolled up in the expensive dresses and jewelry Bill gave her. The glamorous look wasn’t really her style. Not that she didn’t have the looks to pull it off; Paige knew she had been gifted with a lot of natural beauty. But she preferred to dress like a professional for these encounters.

Her preferred attire for turning tricks was a business suit. A long-sleeved jacket with shoulder pads and a plain white skirt gave her the look of a serious young businesswoman, while the plunging neckline, short skirt, and high heels enhanced her sex appeal. She kept her hair short—long enough to frame her face, but short enough to contribute to her professional appearance.

Paige knew that her johns, being wealthy businessmen, spent their days in the company of professionals; most of them saw plenty of attractive young women at work. Men being men, this would get them excited, and the possibility of a sexual harassment suit ruled out flirting as a means of relieving the tension. Thus, when they finished work and came to see Paige, she provided them with the chance to live out their fantasies of banging one of their female coworkers. Judging by her johns’ passion, that was what they wanted.

But Bill was different. Granted, he’d enjoyed her in the beginning when she’d dressed for him just like she did for any other john. But then the gifts had started, and Paige had realized that he preferred a softer look—dresses and jewelry rather than business suits. So she’d started dressing up for him—wearing the softer, more feminine things she gave him and brushing out her short hair.

Bill had reached over and begun to stroke her hair. “God, Paige, there are days when the only thing that keeps me from just exploding is knowing that I’m going to see you when I get done.”

Paige smiled. There was really nothing she could say. Telling him that she felt the same way would be irresponsible. She didn’t have feelings for him, and it wasn’t right to make him think she did. But still, she felt a little rush as she thought again about how much power she had over Bill. Part of her was tempted to lead him on.

Best just to kill the conversation entirely. Paige leaned forward and kissed him, her hands massaging his still-firm shoulders. For a man in late middle age, Bill did an excellent job of keeping himself in shape. He returned her kiss passionately, running one hand down her flank as the other cupped her breast through the thin dress.

After a minute, their lips parted. Paige had just opened her mouth to suggest they move to the bedroom when Bill spoke first. “Meet me tomorrow.”

Paige worked her mouth a couple of times before regaining her composure. She was starting to feel sorry for him. Maybe she’d let his infatuation go too far. “Honey, I... I can’t. I’ve got class all day.”

“Skip it. Meet me downtown tomorrow. Please.” There was an insistence in his eyes.

Paige was puzzled. He wanted to meet in public? The man was married, for Christ’s sake. It wasn’t smart for him to be seen in public with a young woman. Besides, he’d never asked her to meet him before. “Wh-why?”

“I want to buy you a coat.”

“Oh my God!” Nicole exclaimed. “Did he really?”

“Yeah, he really did,” Paige nodded. “He wants to buy me a coat.”

“Oh my God!” Nicole squealed. She jumped up and down in excitement, causing her long, deep-brown tresses to bounce on her shoulders. For a veteran prostitute, Nicole displayed some surprisingly girlish behavior sometimes. Maybe that was part of her appeal. Not that she needed it. Her finely-chiseled Italian features, flowing hair, and trim body were no doubt more than enough to keep her johns interested. “That’s so great, Paige!” she gushed.

“I guess,” Paige replied.

“What do you mean, you guess?” the brunette asked incredulously. “You’ve found your sugar daddy! Play it right and he’ll pay for the rest of your education. You won’t have to spend your afternoons humping ugly old men. Any working girl would jump at that!”

Paige knew it was true. “Coat” in this case meant “fur coat.” A fur was a sign of commitment from a john. It made him more than just a customer; it made him a lover, a paramour. By accepting a fur from a sugar daddy, a working girl like Paige was agreeing to be his mistress. There were requirements to it—a mistress had to stop seeing other johns and spend more time with her benefactor. But in exchange, she would be taken care of, if not outright pampered. And a fur coat was the symbol of the new relationship, a sort of engagement ring for illicit affairs.

“You took him up on it, didn’t you?” Nicole pressed.

“I told him I’d think about it,” Paige said. And she had thought about it, while she’d fucked Bill and after he’d left. Normally she would have gone home after finishing with Bill, but today she’d hung around the apartment until Nicole showed up to get ready for her evening tricks. Aside from her johns, Nicole was the only person who knew Paige was a prostitute. In a sense, Nicole was the only real friend she had, and Paige had stayed late because she desperately needed to talk to someone about this. Meetings like this were rare; Paige worked afternoons and was generally long gone before Nicole showed up. The two girls usually communicated by leaving scrawled notes for each other.

In fact, the last time they’d seen each other face to face had been at the party where Paige had met Bill. One of Nicole’s old johns had invited them, promising plenty of potential clients. They had just arrived and had been chatting with each other when Paige had noticed a pair of distinguished-looking older men eyeing them from across the room. The girls had smiled invitingly, and the men had smiled back, but hadn’t approached. Rather, they’d started conversing furtively with each other, occasionally glancing at the girls.

It had been over an hour later, when Paige and Nicole had separated, that one of the men had approached her and struck up a conversation. Paige found Bill quite charming, and within ten minutes found herself eagerly agreeing to an appointment the following week.

“What’s there to think about?” Nicole asked, fluffing the couch pillows and eyeing the coffee table critically.

“I’m just... I feel sorry for the guy. He’s gaga over me. I don’t know if I can lead him on like this.”

“You’re not leading him on, Paige. He knows damn well that this is just a job to you. He doesn’t want your love, he just wants a chance to shower you with affection.”

“I guess so,” Paige replied.

“Besides,” Nicole pressed, “just think how sexy that fur coat is going to feel. Hell, give me a few more weeks and I’ll get a coat of my own from my Jimmy. Then we can walk around town together like a pair of rich bitches.”

After the party where she’d met Bill, Paige had ridden home in a cab with Nicole. The two girls had compared notes, and Paige had learned that Nicole had been approached by the other man, who’d identified himself as James. Paige had ever seen James after that first exchange of smiles at the party (nor had Nicole seen Bill), but she’d been vaguely aware that James, or Jimmy as Nicole called him, had become a steady source of income for the brunette.

Paige giggled at the image of the two girls gallivanting around the city in matching furs. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

“See?” Nicole grinned. “Look how easy it was to convince you, you little bimbo,” she teased.

“Slut,” Paige replied, laughing.

“What do you think?” Paige asked, shifting her weight to one leg as she stuck the other knee forward through the front of the coat. The feel of the soft mink fur against her skin was almost intoxicating. She’d never felt so pampered.

Bill came up behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders as they looked into the mirror. He rubbed his hands through the brown fur, caressing her shoulder through the thick coat. Paige sighed, leaning back into him as he studied her image in the mirror. “Something a little lighter, I think.” He turned to the salesgirl. “Let’s try the ermine.”

“Right away, sir,” the attractive redhead replied as she waded into the crowded racks of fur coats. The place was posh—an exclusive boutique in the middle of the city’s ritziest shopping area. The street outside was populated with rich shoppers—executives. socialites, movers and shakers. Bill had brought her into his world.

Paige was still struggling to absorb all that had happened. Bill had brought her here publicly, making no effort whatsoever to keep from being seen with her. Previously, their relationship had been a clandestine thing, but now... it was like Bill wanted the whole world to know.

The sales staff of the boutique had greeted Bill by name when he brought her in. “Good afternoon, Mr. Sinclair,” “Pleased to see you again, Mr. Sinclair,” and all of that. This was a place where Bill was known and recognized, he’d brought her in without a care in the world.

Paige was barely twenty-one years old, while Bill was in his fifties. The fact that he was going to spend thousands of dollars on a coat could mean only one thing: He was making her his mistress. The sales staff probably saw that sort of thing every day; they had to know what was going on. And yet the salesgirls had been faultlessly polite, showing Paige every courtesy and referring to her as “ma’am,” even though most of them were older than she was.

This was the fourth coat they’d tried. Bill had eyed her critically in each of them, as though inspecting a work of art. “You’re exquisitely beautiful, Paige,” he’d explained, making her blush. “I want a fur that makes you look perfect.” Paige had almost swooned at that, enraptured once again by the power she had over the man.

The salesgirl returned, a bulky white coat over one arm. “Here you are, ma’am,” she said, offering the coat to Paige. “White ermine.” The coat was a pure white, the color of snow. Paige hurried to shed the mink coat.

“Allow me,” Bill said, taking the white fur from the salesgirl. The girl took the brown coat and passed it off to another salesgirl, who took it back into the racks. “Face the mirror,” Bill said. Paige complied, biting her lip nervously. She sighed with pleasure as Bill slipped the soft coat over her shoulders, brushing her hair out over the thickly furred collar. Paige slipped her arms into the sleeves before straightening up and looking in the mirror.

Her thick blonde hair flowed almost seamlessly into the fine white fur of the coat. She closed her eyes, enjoying the luxurious feel. There was something about a fur coat that made her feel... powerful. Bill seemed enraptured, and Paige had to admit she looked gorgeous in the coat. After half a minute of silence, Bill leaned over and planted a light kiss on her lip. “It’s perfect.”

“Mr. Sinclair! What a pleasure to see you again, sir!” Paige turned to find that the voice had come from a portly, middle-aged man coming down a staircase in the back of the store.

“The pleasure is mine, Alexander,” Bill replied. The owner of the boutique, then.

Alexander rushed over to shake Bill’s hand, glancing over at Paige. “I must say, your new friend is exquisitely beautiful. But then,” he said, turning back to Bill, “you always did have excellent taste.” Paige frowned, a bit put out at being discussed like this.

“Now, now, Alexander,” Bill chided, moving to put an arm around Paige’s fur-clad shoulders. “Paige is a wonderful woman, and she’s made me happier than I’ve been in a long time.” That, Paige thought, was a little more like it.

“I see,” replied the owner, bowing his head apologetically. “The usual arrangements, then?”

Bill grinned. “Quite satisfactory. I’ll pick it up first thing in the morning.” He turned to Paige. “I’m afraid you can’t wear it out of the store today, honey. They need to keep it overnight for some final adjustments. Weather-treating, that sort of thing. I’ll bring it to you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Paige sighed, a bit disappointed at having to leave the soft, comfortable coat behind. But she took it off, handing it to Alexander, who thanked her, said goodbye to Bill, and hurried into the back of the store. Bill took Paige’s arm and escorted her outside where, to her considerable surprise, a limo was waiting for them. The driver sprung out and opened the rear door.

“Honey, I’m afraid I’m needed at work, so I can’t escort you home. But Ralph will take you home.” The driver nodded and smiled at her. Somewhat stunned by all of this, Paige let Bill help her into the back of the limo. “Meet me at the apartment tomorrow. Five o’clock. I’ll bring the coat.”

Paige opened her mouth to decline. That was Bill’s usual time, but not his usual day, and she had another appointment scheduled. But then she closed it. Bill had just bought her a coat. She would have to cancel the appointment tomorrow. As a matter of fact, she would have to cancel all her appointments with all her other clients. That was the unspoken agreement she had entered into by accepting the coat. She was a kept woman now.

Of course, Bill had agreed to more than she had. She was the one with the upper hand, she reminded herself. “See you then,” she said, smiling.