The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Mornin’, Chlo’! Ready to work?” Shelby said with a sinister grin as Chloe walked past her desk.

Chloe glanced at her, and the weekend deleted itself from her memory banks once again. “Of course! It’s a new week, and it’s better... I... let’s just say I want to get a fast start on the week ahead!”

“Attagirl,” Shelby said, and the word was like a spur to Chloe’s mind.

Chloe worked like a machine. Her tasks went by so fast that she was asking everyone for more and begging for training on some of the systems she hadn’t used before. She was focused on every menial task given to her, absorbed in her work and loving every moment of it.

A hand on her shoulder made her aware of the outside world once again, and she realized that it was eight at night. The rest of the office was dark. Shelby was the only other person there, silhouetted in the last lights left. “I told you moonlighting would get you noticed,” she said with a smile.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Dunno, seems weird.”

“Nothing weird about it. I mean, I moved into that building after a month. Trust me, you go with this, you’ll be earning a mil a year,” Shelby bragged.

Chloe rolled her eyes. “You still rent. Like hell you make a million...” she said, but Shelby pulled out her ledger, slammed it on Chloe’s desk, and opened it up. A familiar scent drifted out of the pages, but even through the haze Chloe recognized the transactions of a successful trader.

“A million a year,” Shelby repeated. “Out of you she expects a million and a half in the first year.“

She. Her. The half-remembered ghost of her Mistress’s presence held Chloe in place, jarred back to life by Shelby’s words. But the intelligence behind Shelby’s eyes when she spoke next wasn’t her own. “Time to dress more professionally, then off home you go,” Shelby said, and Chloe was helpless before her Mistress’s servant.

Shelby brought her out to the car and pointed her into the front seat, then got in next to her. “Drink,” she commanded.

Chloe had enough of her wits about her to sniff the pink water bottle that Shelby handed her, but that was the only resistance she could manage before taking two squirts from the bottle. Shelby took it out of her hand after the second swallow and said, “That’s enough on a school night. She’ll tell you what that’s about soon, when you need to know. Now... let’s get you into something a little dressier for the office.”

Chloe’s glazed eyes tried to glance down to her pantsuit, as if to say What’s wrong with what I’m wearing? Shelby saw the attempt and smiled. “Yeah, you know those boring, drab, dead pantsuits you wear to the office so everyone thinks you’re a real go-getter? Gone. Skirts from now on for you and those sexy legs of yours. At least two inches above the knee at all times. Blouses and tops show curves or cleavage—not necessarily both, we don’t want you getting written up. Everything white or pastel—no more hiding in the shadows for you. Two-inch heels, lace bra—and do try to match it to your outfit, people are going to see it—thong panties, glossy pantyhose. You work for her, not the company, so you follow her dress code.“

Chloe’s head nodded forward with all the sense Shelby was making, though it was hard for her to concentrate through the imagined feeling of a thong bridling her ass and pussy all through the workday. “You work as hard as you can,” Shelby continued. “You earn every dime you can without relenting. That’s why we’re not just kept at the Rooftop and taken out when she wants to show us off. That’s our reason for still working.“

Chloe couldn’t reply, dazed until Shelby’s giggling woke her up to realize that they were at the mall. “Shopping time!” Shelby chirped.

“Don’t have that much money,” Chloe said in a slurred tone that felt like it sounded like her fingernails digging into a cliff before she fell into the abyss.

“Oh, it’s on me. Or should I say it’s on her? Oh, don’t worry, that’ll go far for you,” Shelby said with a giggle, and much to her shock and frustration, Chloe giggled right back at her.

Her head pounded as her survival instincts tried to combat the control that was overwhelming her, leaving her helpless to do much more physically than let Shelby lead her around the mall, from the Victoria’s Secret for her new underwear, to the shoe store for a massive array of high heels, to three different fancy boutiques for the skirtsuits and tops she was supposed to wear.

Each receipt was in four figures, and Chloe gave a low whistle as she realized how thorough Shelby had been; this was enough for an entire new wardrobe. “Really, you didn’t have to do this...” she said.

“Yeah, I did,” Shelby said, flashing her credit card in Chloe’s face. The holographic spiral in the background, shimmering as Shelby’s hand moved, held Chloe’s attention long enough for her to read the words on the card.

Riga Bank SlaveCheck.

Oh, hell no, Chloe thought, and she tried to run, tried to punch Shelby in the face, tried to do something that would let her escape this beautifully dressed nightmare. But she couldn’t move, her body slow and heavy like it had been during the interview, and now that she thought about it, Shelby was drenched in perfume—she had become so used to it that she didn’t even think about it anymore—couldn’t even think about it anymore? she wondered with a jolt of fear.

Shelby laughed. “Oh, Slavs no write English good. Slavic Checking has one of the best interest rates ever. We’ll deal with that in two weeks,” she said, but Chloe recognized the lie and the promise both for what they were and kept fighting. Shelby tsked. “C’mon, Chloe, let’s see how you look in this one.” She took Chloe by the hand and led her into the dressing room, handing her the latest purchase.

Chloe put it on, trying to figure out some way of getting out of it and getting Shelby off her back, but then she saw herself in the mirror, her long legs showcased by the glossy hose and pale blue skirt, her breasts outlined in the white scoop-neck top, and she found herself thinking instead, Damn, I’m hot.

“Like how you look?” Shelby asked knowingly.

“Drug... heat...” Chloe panted as the fire between her legs became an inferno, melting her thoughts away.

“Oh, that’s from the lemonade. She’ll explain. Just be good, Chloe,” Shelby ordered.

Chloe was in no condition to argue. Shelby undid the brief blue skirt and let it fall to the floor, then took a compact out of her bag and handed it to Chloe. Chloe found her reflection glowing in a brilliant light that held her eyes locked on herself and how deep she was going.

“Just a prism mirror so you don’t scream too much while I help you,” Shelby explained before she knelt on the dressing room floor and her tongue started to caress the crotch of Chloe’s pantyhose.

Chloe hadn’t expected the nylon to feel so good against her pussy, but it was slick and smooth and soft, and the shockwaves hit her hard. Her body shook with ecstasy, but the mirror held her silent and passive, accepting the conditioning. This time, when she came, she felt much better, and her grin was giddy as she put her skirt back on. “You are, like, the bestest friend ever!” she proclaimed with a giggle.

“So they say,” Shelby said smugly, and if Chloe had been able to notice it, she would have seen the edge to Shelby that let her trade oil futures blindfolded without any kind of outside interference.

Shelby made sure that Chloe was presentable and led her out of the dressing room, then stopped at the Prada store to buy her a new handbag for the office—and a little pink clutch for work, one that she stashed inside her own bag while Chloe stared off into the distance, lost in the haze of her afterglow. Shelby had to lead her back to the car and get Chloe’s address off her driver’s license to take her home.

“Hmph! We’ll deal with this later!” she scoffed once she put Chloe’s key in the door and let them into the plain, cozy, one-bedroom apartment.

Being in the comfort of her own home was enough to start bringing Chloe out of her bimbo daze. “Hey! I always found it nice to come home to,” she said, though she was still giddy enough to giggle at the word “come”.

“Don’t you have a lot to learn. Well, you’re going to be a great trader,” Shelby said, placing the pink clutch on the coffee table.

“Speaking of questionable taste, did you look for the pinkest bag in the store?” Chloe protested.

“Just enjoy your gift, Chloe,” Shelby answered as she took the clothing haul into the bedroom.

Chloe peeked inside the clutch and recoiled. ”Normandie,” she growled, looking at the perfume label. Then she saw the shining silver vibrator and knew that she was in a heap of trouble. Memories stirred: how the perfume had left her sleeping on her feet, helpless to resist being handled like a mannequin; how the vibrator had led her deeper and deeper into a vortex of lust and imprinting; how she had been trapped and changed—though she didn’t know how deep the changes ran yet. The biggest part of her mind was terrified at what was happening to her, but another part was flattered and another aroused by memories of spiral films she’d sneaked into as a teenager.

Whoever the woman was—not Shelby, but the shadowy outline and faint accent she couldn’t put together a clear memory of—she was good at her craft. Chloe knew she’d been hit, and hit hard—blindsided, even, until it was almost too late for her to escape. She didn’t know the endgame of turning girls into the kind of ruthless bimbos that Shelby and the others were, but she didn’t want to find out, either. She closed the bag and ran into the bedroom—where Shelby was neatly hanging up her new wardrobe and throwing everything else into garbage bags.

That was enough to snap her to full awareness. “What are you doing? You can’t just throw out my past life, no matter what you bought me!” Chloe raged, near hysterics, lunging for the biggest of the bags.

“Oh, you’re going to make so much money for her! She will be pleased,” Shelby said with a purr, entirely too confident, as if she knew something that Chloe didn’t.

“I don’t know what the hell just happened, but like hell am I going to just roll over and let some stranger use one of my friends to dress me up like some kind of kinky Barbie doll!” Chloe fired back.

“If we just wanted giggling Barbies, we’d hire cheerleaders. Less work. But she wants the best minds out there. You’ll understand soon enough, but when you say you won’t, that’s how we know you’re good. Otherwise, you’d be rolling over and letting me rip your clothes off to treat you like a Barbie doll,” Shelby said. She sauntered over to Chloe and loosened the tight blouse.

“I don’t know why you think I wanted this, but—no!” Chloe shouted. She wanted to push Shelby away, but her hormones went haywire again, and instead Shelby’s touch made her tingle and go weak in the knees, even as she recognized how little she wanted it.

“Let’s just finish what we started, and I promise you’ll be better than me. Three mil a year, easy. The sky is the limit. I’m so proud of you,” Shelby said, slipping Chloe’s jacket and blouse off in one move before falling to her knees and working on Chloe’s skirt.

“Proud of what? Making me a... ahhhh... ohhhh...” Chloe tried to say, but a fingertip running along the seam of her pantyhose was enough to make her melt into bed.

Shelby’s powder-pink fingernails tore an access hole in the hose so that Shelby could have at her properly, but it hardly seemed worth the trouble for the little time that it took for the hyper-excited Chloe to come against her hand. “I’m proud you fought. The most prized fish aren’t the ones who are the largest, or the tastiest... just the ones that are harder to catch,” she whispered in Chloe’s ear.

Chloe took that as a challenge and pulled Shelby close to her to return the favor as enthusiastically, if not as skillfully, as Shelby had done to her. As both of them came for the second time, Shelby had to jab herself in the shin to keep from dozing off in Chloe’s limp arms; Chloe wasn’t yet at the stage where she would be comfortable waking up next to her friend and mentor the next morning.

With a smile, she put a few more things in the pink clutch, then slipped off back to her home.

Chloe’s eyes opened as if she’d been jolted, and she looked around the bedroom, sighing in relief that she was alone. “Oh, thank fuck that was a dream,” she said, relieved not to have been waking up next to a woman she’d have to drive to work with. That would be impossible to explain without serious eyebrows being raised. Having a lesbian fantasy about one of her co-workers as a dream was strange enough. A one-night stand with Shelby would have been too good to be true.

She shook herself awake. Too good to be true? Don’t you mean too strange to be believed? she thought, but she shrugged it off and headed for the shower; for once she was up in plenty of time to go through her full routine, and she was going to take advantage of every second.

To her surprise, the pink clutch that Shelby had bought her was in the bathroom. She didn’t remember putting it there, but maybe Shelby had left it. She remembered the shopping trip, and that they’d had some kind of fight about the bag and its contents, but she couldn’t remember what all the fuss had been about. Guess I owe her an apology, she thought, putting the perfume in her medicine chest and tossing the vibrator on the bed. Huh. I don’t remember a razor. Or this can of shave gel from a brand that I’ve never heard of. Still, they would be useful, and she set them out on the sink for use later.

“No bleach. She lives,” she announced to the empty apartment before hopping in the shower and starting to sing as she lathered up. Why anything by Carly Rae Jepsen was stuck in her head, she would never know, but she would blame the radio and for once in her life be grateful that she lived alone.

Once she was neat and pretty, she hopped out of the shower, braced her foot on the toilet, and started rubbing shave gel on her left leg. The razor was almost straight-edge and sharp, and she needed every bit of skill she had to run it up and down her leg without cutting herself.

As she switched to her right leg, she felt an unpleasant tingle in her left, and it wobbled as she tried to put her weight on it. “How does my foot fall asleep while I’m standing on it?” she demanded of the universe. She slapped it until sensation came back, then braced herself again and worked on her right leg. But the time she had had to spend waking up her left leg meant that her right had spent longer soaked in the gel, and by the time she finished with her shave, it was almost frozen. She had to practically carry it off the toilet and hop into the bedroom.

She sat down on the bed with the can of shave gel and read the ingredients, thinking that she had had some kind of reaction. The label was in German, but chemicals were a language unto themselves. Chloe had been to the dentist enough to know what Novocain looked like in Latin. Who the fuck thought Novocain was a good thing to use while shaving your... unless it was for... oh, shit.

She cringed with the realization; a girl didn’t spend two Halloweens in a Cheerleader Melissa costume without realizing what a completely shaved pussy was a sign of. I’m in trouble now, she thought.

But she couldn’t afford to miss work by letting the perfume drag her back, or the vibrator seduce her into bed, or fall under the sway of whatever else was in that pink clutch that she had the urge to hit Shelby over the head with, or end up under the control of something else that might be in store for her. So she put her brave face on and looked at her closet, shuddering at the new wardrobe that she had no choice but to wear. The shiny pantyhose made her feel like a glazed donut, and she was having a lot of trouble ignoring the way her thong slid along her slit as she tried to wiggle her way into the tight tan skirt and sheer white blouse of her outfit.

Then she saw the heels that were clearly meant to go with this particular outfit. “Okay. Novocained legs and three-inch heels. Nooo problem,” she said with a sigh, wondering if she should do up her hair in a bun to serve as some kind of padding to protect whatever was left of her brain. She teetered on the heels and walked forward like a prisoner on the way to her execution. The pull of the thong in her crotch and ass started to make her tingle. She gritted her teeth, knowing that somehow her arousal was controlling her; she recognized the pattern of being ready to cream herself right before the gaps in her memory cropped up.

This time, though, all it did was straighten out her posture, make her legs steady, and allow her to focus on what could be the most important day of her life. She didn’t even hesitate before putting on the fancy French perfume instead of the Smile Girl or her usual scent as she headed out the door, a predator’s sharp grin bright on her face.

“You’ve been an amazing asset to our company from the moment you set foot in her, Chloe. We need more hard workers and fewer people who feel like they can just show up and take the money and run. We’ve been watching you over the last couple of days and seen the spike in your already impressive productivity, and we think you’ll be ready for the challenge of trading by the end of the week. I’m sure you’ll be excellent at it.”

Her boss was trying to look serious, she knew, and he was almost pulling it off, except that his eyes were fixed on her legs as she sat with them demurely crossed, leaning forward so that her cleavage was visible where the blouse fell open. Deep down, Chloe felt like her soul was rattling on the bars of the cage that she was being put in. Surely she’d be handed over to Shelby and be dead by Friday—but the boss was leading her to a workstation in the back with the other rookie traders. “You’ll be over here with the rest of the trading team. Unlike most, I can actually smell success, not just potential, on you,” he said, now able to look Chloe in the face.

Shelby looked away from her work long enough to say, “Sure it’s not her perfume? Imported from France, you know.”

“Shelby with her jokes. Despite everything and anything you might have heard, Annie’s the only woman whose perfume ever influences my decisions. Chloe’s been working harder than even our best traders. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: the only crudeness I care about during the day is the quality of the oil, and yes, in that respect, this is the crudest office you’ve ever been in,” the boss said, flaunting his wedding ring.

A sudden flash of memory made both Shelby and Chloe struggle to keep a straight face; Chloe had a detail-perfect picture of the pixie-like blonde with her mouth around the boss’s cock, staring up at him with hazy need in her eyes. But it was only a flash, and in the next moment, Chloe was relieved that it was her skill and not her new, provocative look that had earned her this promotion.

While interns moved her things to her new desk, she checked in with her new manager. Bolo tie. Never a good sign, she thought, looking him over and seeing that his eyes were on the outline of her ass where the skirt clung to it. Dirty blond curls, worked over with enough product that she was pretty sure the firm had made a profit off him, and a smirk didn’t endear him to her.

“Bob Delaney. You may be light and sweet, but in this business, you better be crude to succeed,” he told her as she sat down.

The other female traders just scoffed, given Chloe’s outfit, before returning to work. “Protip, hon—you don’t need to dress like a slut to get Bob to be a jerk. He’d make double entendres to a nun,” one of them told her.

But while they struggled and hesitated, moved slowly or not at all, Chloe put her education to work and let the work flow through her, making it through the day without breaking a sweat. “Good execution, Chloe. We’ll see how it goes tomorrow,” Bob had to say when she finally packed up and headed out.

As she drove home, she could finally let the promotion go to her head, and one by one she called her friends to scream the good news at them. That celebratory squealing lasted all the way home, where she decided this was as good a time as any to break out the stash of artisan chocolate she’d gotten from San Francisco, and she had that with her dinner, her smile never breaking. Any worries she had about being taken over, possessed, or kept went right out the window.

As midnight approached, Chloe flopped into bed, grabbed the silver vibrator, and gave herself the two most intense orgasms of her life before her eyes drifted closed. Only deep sleep could wipe out the mile-wide grin on her face.