The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

After the disastrous talk with Clark, the rest of Mona Lisa’s afternoon was uneventful.

Well, mostly uneventful.

Mona Lisa had returned to her office flustered and frustrated. She tried again to return to work, but couldn’t find it within her to focus on it. A text from Brad had been the perfect distraction. The sweetie was asking how the talk with Clark had gone. Mona Lisa deferred on the question. But she figured Brad knew it had gone poorly. Brad had predicted exactly that.

Instead they texted about other things. Brad became the first coworker she shared her Picstagram account with. And just like when he had first seen her, Brad had been supportive. Even more, Brad had sent her his own spicy pictures to “keep things even” with them. It was nothing more than what Mona Lisa had shown the world. Workout poses. Swim trunks. Brad’s broad shoulders and big arms all on display. Underneath Mona Lisa’s thick makeup and orange tan, she was blushing. She was rubbing her thighs together. Brad was getting her hot and bothered.

As 5PM near, Mona Lisa texted Brad one last time. She was heading off. She had to change before she headed to the Tiger Cage. And she’d meet him there. Clark, she said, had decided not to join them. Just as she began to pack, though, she heard a knock at her office door. She got up and threw the door open to find Shashi Kapoor—Sasha for short—standing outside her door. The short, slender, mocha-skinned Indian-American woman was from the HR department and dressed like it. Her mauve pantsuit would have gotten a respectful nod from Lisa Ricci. But Mona Lisa looked unimpressed. “Sawshai, ya better have a betta reason than needing fashion advice fa bawtherin’ me at 5PM,” she said.

Sasha looked Mona Lisa over and blinked. “Wow,” she said. She ran a hair through her long, black hair. “I heard you got a makeover. They weren’t kidding.”

“And ya gawt somethin’ ta say abowt it?” Mona Lisa asked pointedly.

Sasha looked her over again. “Um…a few things but that can come up tomorrow,” Sasha said. She looked at Mona Lisa, taller than her on the guidette’s heels, and then down to the pink pendant around her neck. “And there it is!” she said with a smile.

“There what is?” Mona Lisa asked.

“That pendant,” Sasha explained. “It was reported lost or stolen to HR and we heard someone had seen it on you.”

“I found it on my desk,” Mona Lisa explained a bit defensively. “I hope ya nawt accusing me of stealin’ it.”

“No, no no no,” Sasha said. “The reporter sounded like they had just lost it. And there it is!” Sasha put out her hand. “If you don’t mind…”

Mona Lisa nodded and stared down at the pink pendant for a moment. Once again she felt whatever thoughts she had fading away. But Sasha’s voice cut through it. “Ms. Ricci?” Sasha asked. Mona Lisa snapped to and removed the pendant from around her neck. She handed it to Sasha with a giggle-snort.

“Ms. Ricci is my grammaw,” she said. “You can cawl me Mona Lisa, dawl. And if you do wanna dress in somethin’ that might get a man lookin’ you should drawp by my desk tomorrow.”

“Uh…thanks,” Sasha said. “Anyways, have a nice evening…uh…Mona Lisa.” Sasha turned and left the guidette behind. She had managed to keep her cool, but Clark had been right. Something was definitely up with Lisa Ricci. Beyond just the dozens of dress code infractions. But Lisa had sounded irate from the start and Sasha didn’t want a confrontation. She headed for the elevator, pendant in hand, and went downstairs.

Now without her pink pendant, Mona Lisa finished packing her things and headed out of the office. She made a brief drop by Clark’s desk to see that the man had already gone home. She wasn’t even sure if he’d come back from lunch. She shrugged. Mona Lisa really did feel bad about being so harsh on him. But being nice wasn’t working. And right now her mind was on Brad. She couldn’t believe she was going out with Brad. She had always thought he was such a jerk.

…because he was such a jerk.

But now she was going out dancing with him, Big B, and whatever friends she brought.

…instead of preparing for her presentation.

With the silver pendant now nowhere near her, doubts were free to begin creeping back into Mona Lisa’s mind. But in the absence of the pendant she banished these thoughts herself. Big B had been right. She was sick of spending all her time working and preparing for more work. She was sick of sleeping in a queen-sized bed all alone. And she’d had so much fun out shopping with Big B and just being Mona Lisa. So no more doubts. Doubts were for the morning. Tonight, she was going to fawkin’ pawty.

The Tiger Cage was not a subtle building. It was large and square, almost like a warehouse, and its facade had a neon-orange sign announcing its name. Loud club music blasted from inside and crowds of people were gathered outside waiting to be let in. And as Mona Lisa walked over from her car parked a block away, she felt like she’d fit right in.

Mona Lisa had changed from her “work” outfit into something more suited to clubbing. The guidette wore a sparkly pink minidress with tiger stripes adorning it. She had done her hair into a messy, hair-spray infused updo and had slipped into a pair of towering pink heels. Her newly fit put wiggled with every step. And the dress, like any clothing, utterly failed to properly contain her boobs. The altered woman minced confidently towards the Tiger Cage, on the lookout for either her date or her friend.

“Mona Lisa!” Mona Lisa turned to the sound of Big B’s voice. Her mentor and new bestie was wearing a leopard-print mini-dress shaped a lot like Mona Lisa’s. But her makeup was brighter and had stronger hues of yellow, blue, and pink over Mona Lisa’s overpowering oranges. She ran up in her heels and threw her arms around Mona Lisa, who returned the gesture.

“Big B!” she said. “There ya are ya bitch!”

“There I am?” Big B said, sounding mock-shocked. “You’re the flight risk! I wasn’t sure ya’d make it.”

“I told ya I would and that’s awl there is to it,” Mona Lisa replied. “Now where is that man…”

“Ya brawt a man?” Big B asked. “Ambitious, Mona Lisa. So ambitious! Is he hawt?”

“Ya know he is,” Mona Lisa said. “His name is Bradley. He’s a coworka. And he’s kind of a douche but he’s so dreamy.” Mona Lisa squealed with delight.

“Nobody cares about his personality in the fawkin’ sack,” Big B said. “You have fun with ya toy, toots. If you can find him in this mawb.”

Mona Lisa kept looking around. Thankfully, Brad was tall. He was easy enough to spot over the crowd. And his outfit stood out, too. The crowd around the Tiger Cage was all leather, latex, lycra, and obnoxious hair. Brad with his clean-cut hair, well-groomed beard, and his casual button-down and slacks stood out. Mona Lisa bounced up and down to get his attention. And the moment he spotted her he headed over.

“Mona Lisa,” he said. He offered his once-rival a hug, chancing a move of his hand down to her firm, perky butt. Mona Lisa yelped at the touch, but didn’t react. A few days ago she’d have called the cops. Today she just smirked up at him.

“Ya gawtta buy me at least two shawts before ya try that, Bradley,” Mona Lisa said playfully. “Anyways this is my friend, Big B,” Mona Lisa gestured to the other guidette. Big B held her hand out, not to shake but for him to kiss. Brad shook her hand anyways, earning a sidelong look from Big B.

“Good to meet you Ms…B…” Brad said. He turned another gaze towards Mona Lisa, and then down at her chest. Suddenly an absence hit him. “What happened to that pendant you were wearing, Mona Lisa?” he asked. For the first time there was a measure of worry in his voice.

“Oh Sawsha from HR said someone repawted it missing, and since I ain’t no thief I gave it ta her,” Mona Lisa said casually.

“Well aren’t you generous,” Brad chuckled, hiding an internal flurry of curses. He didn’t actually know what would happen without the pendant. He couldn’t imagine the changes would just revert. But he also didn’t know how much Mona Lisa’s behavior would revert without it. He looked away, pursing his lips. Fucking Clark. It had to be Clark. Crafty little fuck. But there was no way he could leave. And he didn’t even know if that would help. If the pendant’s powers had left, Brad would have to keep Mona Lisa engaged with his own charm. Thankfully, he thought, he had loads of it.

“Awlright enough chit chat,” Big B said. “Let’s go tell the bounca’s to let our VIP pawty in.” She walked up to the opening of the club, forcefully pushing her way through it to the large, bald bouncers preventing entry into the Tiger Cage.

“Club’s at capacity,” one of the men said. “Beat it.” But Big B could see both of the men’s eyes shift as Mona Lisa wiggled through the crowd. Both bouncers were momentarily stunned by the wobbling mounds of plastic adorning the fledgling guidette.

“That right?” Big B asked. “Will ya be at capacity if you get a load’a those jugs?” She pointed at Mona Lisa, who looked up at the men and squealed.

“Big B!” Mona Lisa said. “I swear ta Gawd ya treatin’ be like a prawstitute!”

The shorter guidette just shrugged. “Please, bitch,” she said. “Ya know ya dyin’ for a man to finally lay eyes on those bongos. Give ’em a show.”

Mona Lisa looked at the bouncers. The one on the right licked his lips and the one on the left smiled. They seemed receptive to the offer. Mona Lisa looked back up to Brad, who shrugged. “Your body your choice, Mona Lisa,” Brad said.

With that she turned back to the men and dropped the top of her dress. Mona Lisa had already foregone a bra. So her breasts barely moved when freed from the fabric of her dress, only wobbling slightly. She got a bit more out of them by giving her chest a shake. Mona Lisa cupped her enormous implants, thrusting them out towards the bouncers. “Ya tellin’ me ya club an go without these?” Mona Lisa asked. Around her a cheer went out as onlookers and others in the crowd all got at least a partial view of Mona Lisa’s new boobs.

“You know what?” the bouncer on the right said. “I think there’s room for one more party. Why don’t you head on in?” Mona Lisa pulled her top back up and led the way into the club.

True to its name, the Tiger Cage was full of cages. Dancing ages adorned the sides of the club, each with a pole in the middle. But there was one large, central set of bars in the middle of the club going from the ceiling to the floor. In the middle of it was a larger stage with its own pole. And hanging from that pole was a stripper dancing to the music. The woman was down to her thong. And she didn’t look so different from Mona Lisa herself. The bar was off to the right. The DJ was on a platform near the center cage. Sofas and chairs and tables lined the side. But most of the floor was reserved for dancing. And as the bouncers had promised, tonight was packed.

Once they were inside, Big B took the lead and headed for a table just now being vacated by a few drunks. “I’ll go get us drinks,” Brad said, heading for the bar. “You girls have fun.” Brad sauntered off to the bar and left the two guidettes to it.

“So,” Big B said. “Whaddya think?”

“This place fawkin’ rawks!” Mona Lisa squealed. “Awlso can you believe these beach bawls got us in?” Mona Lisa pointed to her fake breasts, prompting a cackle from Big B.

“Sweetie those is gonna get you lawtsa stuff you never thawt you could have,” Big B told her confidently. “They’re mahvelous!”

“Fawk yes they are!” Mona Lisa said, giving her boobs a shake. “But I love tha lights. I love tha atmosphere.” Mona Lisa cast a glance to the pole in the middle, where the tanned stripper had just lost her thong. “The girls ah pretty, too.”

“Mona Lisa I didn’t know you was bi!” Big B snorted.

“No no nawt like that!” Mona Lisa protested. “Well…maybe like that. But nawt like that right now! They’re just so pretty. And fawkers keep throwin’ ’em money.” Mona Lisa’s gaze moved squarely to the middle dancer now. “How much money ya think these brawds make in a night?”

“Well I never worked at the Tiga Cage, but I did strip at a smawller club in the hood once,” Big B said. “The Tiga Club told me they didn’t got room for my tiny ass. As if. But I made a good take on a good night. I bet even the side gals get good returns. And her?” Big B gestured to the dancer in the middle. “I bet she makes a fawkin’ killin’. Prawbably about as much money as you make.”

“Interestin’,” Mona Lisa mused. “And what do ya think of Bradley?”

Big B looked off in the direction of the bar, and back to Lisa. “Mona Lisa you sure pulled yaself a looka,” she said. “But I’m gonna level with ya. I don’t like his vibe.”

“What the fawk’s that mean?” Mona Lisa asked. She felt a hint of frustration at Big B’s disapproval of the man she’d brought. A bit of annoyance. But also something else. Those doubts were beginning to fray at the edge of her mind again.

“Mona Lisa how much experience ya have with men?” Big B asked critically. “Based on how Plain Jane ya looked when we met I’m guessin’ nawt a lot?”

“I’ve had a few boyfriends,” Mona Lisa said a bit defensively.

“And I’m gonna guess neva a man like Romeo or Angelo or Brad?” Big B went on. “Someone skinnier and more timid. Fawkin’ weenies?”

Mona Lisa gritted her teeth. She didn’t answer. But Big B was right. Lisa Ricci had always worn the pants in her few relationships. And they rarely came off for the most basic missionary sex.

“Well, here’s what I think,” Big B continued. “I think Brad’s come to the Tiga Cage dressed like a preppy boy. And I think he’s taking you out the night before ya big promotion meeting or whateva. Now I don’t give a fawk about ya jawb. I think it’s bad fa you. But you at least cared the last he knew. And now he wants ta get ya hung over and prawbably bring ya home and dick ya.”

“Well don’t that mean he’s gonna be distracted, too?” Mona Lisa protested. But she sounded distracted. A tingle ran through her body at Big B’s graphic description of Brad having sex with her. Having sex with Brad. She had thought of it in the abstract. But the thought of seeing Brad’s bare body—his surely big dick—caused the guidette to start to moisten underneath her dress.

“Yeah but he’s gawt awl week ta prepare,” Big B pointed out. “And I’ll betcha he ain’t getting nearly as drunk as he’s tryin’ ta get you. Now I’m awl about finding hunks and climbin’ awl ova their hawgs. So you go girl. But…” Big B trailed off, looking at Brad. The young man was returning from the bar now with four shots in hand. “Even fa my flings, I wanna be the one in chahge. Of the relationship and of my life. And I don’t think Bradley wants that fa you.”

Mona Lisa turned back and smiled at Brad as he approached. The doubts still lingered in her mind. But they were met by her increasing arousal. More and more she was eyeing Brad’s body. She was picturing him towering over her in bed. His confident smile, his strong pecs, his muscular arms, and a long, thick cock ready to plow into her. The slickness in between her thighs was preventing Mona Lisa from really considering what Big B said. Mona Lisa turned back to Big B. “Look, I getcha,” she said. “But I’m a big gal. I’ll be fine, awlright Big B?”

“Awlright,” Big B said. “But if you need me ta pick ya up, you cawl ma, okay?” She reached out and took Mona Lisa’s hand. “I really like ya, dawl. I know lotsa bimbos and gahrillas. But I don’t have many bitches I’d really cawl my friends. That’s awl you, toots.”

Mona Lisa looked at Big B for a long time with a big, wide smile. She liked the other guidette, too. But before she could say anything, Brad returned. He set two shots down in front of each of the ladies. “Thought I’d get you gals a double,” Brad said as he took a seat.

“And none fa you?” Big B asked, shooting a pointed look to Mona Lisa.

“Well someone’s going to need to drive Mona Lisa home,” Brad said.

“See?” Mona Lisa declared with a smirk. “Such a gentleman!” She pulled Brad in for a big, chesty hug and lifted one of the shots. Big B, despite her misgivings, did the same.

“To Mona Lisa!” Big B declared.

“To Mona Lisa,” Brad agreed.

The two women drank deeply from the little glasses. Mona Lisa wasn’t used to hard liquor, so the vodka in her shot almost caused her to cough it back up. But she managed to hold it down. She exhaled comfortably and giggle-snorted. “That’s some fawkin’ fiya-water Brad!” she said. “Ya couldn’t warn me?”

“Well what’s the fun in the predictable?” he asked. “If we went with that you wouldn’t be here. And you certainly wouldn’t have me hanging off your arm.”

Mona Lisa blushed under her makeup and put back her second shot. This vodka shot went down more easily now that she was ready for it. “Stawng stuff,” Mona Lisa observed. The slammed the second glass down on the table. Even now Mona Lisa felt the start of a buzz and a warmth in her belly from the liquor she put back. “Awlright so what are we doin’ here?” Mona Lisa asked. “We tawkin’? We dancin’? What?”

“I certainly wouldn’t mind a dance,” Brad said with a smirk.

“Neitha would I,” Big B said. But Brad had already taken Mona Lisa by the hips. Big B tried to interject, but he began leading her to the floor. For her part, the increasingly drunk Mona Lisa considered protesting. But the feeling of Brad’s strong hands wrapped around her waist caused her to melt the slightest bit in his grasp. She looked up at him with hazel eyes clouded with lust.

“We’ll be back, Big B,” Brad assured her. The shorter guidette put her hands to her hips.

“I have a feelin’ ya won’t,” Big B said. “But look…Mona Lisa?” Big Be stepped in front of her friend and offered a smile. “When ya done making ya sexy mistakes, feel free to cawl me. And I’ll take care of ya, gawt it?”

Mona Lisa, drunk as she was, didn’t pick up the hint. Nor would she have cared if she did. “Ya so nice ta me Big B!” Mona Lisa said, wrapping her arms around Big B in a tight hug. “You…we’ll be back, okay?” Mona Lisa nodded a bit too hard. “We’ll be back!”

“Not tanight ya won’t,” Big B said with a smirk. “But don’t ya worry. I’ll find myself a man of my own and you have fun.”

Big B turned to walk off, and Brad turned to Mona Lisa and pulled her back into his grasp. “Well…she did tell us to,” Brad said.

“That…that she did!” Mona Lisa said. The vodka was going right through her. “Now come on…let’s dance, Bradley! Let’s dance!”

With her agreement Brad led Mona Lisa to the dance floor. The music was overly-produced House jams from the 90’s and 2000’s. And what Mona Lisa lacked in skill she made up for in enthusiasm. The drunk guidette meshed into the crowd of guidos and trash seemlessly. And she took her leads from the people around her. She rubbed her body against Brad and grinded her backside into him, noting the increasingly stiff erection that was up against her. Brad returned the grinding and ran his hands up and down Mona Lisa’s sides and front. He could feel her stretched nipples poking out. He could practically feel the heat coming off of her body. As 11 PM approached, Mona Lisa was sloppy drunk and all but trying to slip Brad inside of herself on the dance floor.

Brad leaned in and whispered into her ear. “Why don’t I drive us back to my place?” He asked. Mona Lisa’s eyes went wide. She turned to Brad with a wide, wicked grin.

“Fawk yes.”

Brad reached out and grabbed Mona Lisa by the ass, leading her to the door. Any thoughts of Big B or Clark and any doubts in the absence of the pendant were gone. Mona Lisa wanted to get fawked. And Brad was ready to claim his creation.