The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Nesting Dolls

Chapter 5 The Barmaid

Even with the utter lack of windows in the room, Chloe knew it was the next morning when she woke up. The other three were up around the same time. Something didn’t make sense about that to Chloe, but she just followed Paula to the shower room and cleaned up.

Then she saw the pink dress waiting for her—strapless, cleavage-baring, so short it would show off the bottom curve of her ass, so studded with diamonds that her mind started to fog out and her eyelids drooped. She smiled gleefully and put on her thong and lace bra so she could put on the dress, then slipped on the three-inch heels that were by now second nature to her. The full-length mirror on the wall showed her a giddy blonde with an empty grin a mile wide, blue eyes so wide and glassy that they reflected the reflection, and the kind of bright pink that only a true bimbo wore without any hesitation.

If this was how her mistress wanted Chloe to serve, she would do so gladly, and come hard just at the idea of it.

The other girls put on their dresses, and they descended into girl talk, wondering how their first session would go. But it didn’t last long before Inga walked in and every eye in the room was drawn instantly to her. “Good, girls. Now, you will be responsible for the night shift. Sit in the lounge until you are summoned,” she ordered them, and they followed her into a small lounge room that was all pink, with fluffy couches and fuzzy pillows.

Chloe couldn’t help but giggle as she sat down. The room seemed designed for that, even without the familiar smell of Normandie. She could tell that it was affecting all of them and breaking down their professional facades. Lucinda’s high-class enunciation was gone, replaced by a backwoods drawl so deep Chloe could barely understand her. Most of Helen’s conversation revolved around her huge boobs and how to use them. Paula boasted about her experience, though Chloe thought some of those scenarios sounded awfully like a porn video; then again, so had Friday night.

Chloe’s brain was starting to wake up a little by the time Christina entered, and they knew it was time to get ready for work when she sat down in front of them. “Ready for your first shift?” she asked them.

Four squeals answered her, and she smirked. “Good. Saturday night, so all hands are on deck. I’ll be up on the actual rooftop with some of the veterans. You’ll be in the bar area. It’s very simple: we feature the finest drinks, the most relaxing atmosphere, and most importantly, the finest trance music ever created. Not the kind of stuff you can download to your MP3 player, either—the real deal, all with a sexual overlay. Your first job is to serve them—not service them, at least not yet. But you’re also going to want to guide them around—the dance floor, the booths, anywhere they think they’re out of the way and can do whatever they want. When it looks like they can’t think of anything except getting off, ask them if they want to go to the rooftop. You’ll either wake them up and they’ll leave you a nice tip, or they’ll head up, where we’ll get them ready. Couples or singles, doesn’t matter. They’ll come up to the rooftop.

“Once it hits 2, it’s nonstop fucking until dawn. Then we clean them up and take them home, and all they’ll remember is that they had a blast and can’t wait to go back. You’ll learn how tonight. Don’t worry, you won’t miss out on the fun.” Christina flashed a grin at them. ”That’s when the service comes in. You’re still rookies, so you’ll go home with them and wake up in your own beds. You’re only in your second week, but you’ll earn your place soon enough. Many are regulars—you may even know them from your firms. Others are here for their first time or so—they’ll become regulars soon enough. As for the trance music and you—well, you’re working, and she wants you to work, so you keep working. You’ll know when it’s time to burn off all that heat the trance music keeps trying to instill in you.“

Chloe had a slight idea of how that worked, but raised her hand. “When do we know that they’re ready?” she asked. Part of her wanted to know for the stimulation value so she knew what stage of arousal to interrupt, but she also didn’t want to give away that she had any memory of what might have gone on there.

“When it looks like clothes are coming off. Dry humping, heavy petting, tonsil hockey, or lust-induced catatonia are also symptoms of a condition that might last for more than four hours,” Christina answered in a good imitation of a drug ad.

Everyone giggled and got out of their comfortable chairs to follow Christina to the bar area. She left them there with more than a dozen other giggling bimbos in tiny pink dresses. Chloe recognized Sofia among the group, and Li joined them a moment later with a tray of pink lemonade for everyone. They drank up with giddy grins and giggling toasts, then took their waitress gear and got set to work the rooms.

For the first few hours, Chloe felt like just another waitress in a skimpy outfit, albeit one who had the urge to masturbate in the bathroom every half hour or so. There were boorish remarks from some and pity from others, along with a few good tips. She did a lot of walking around and a lot of standing in place.

The one thing she did notice through her haze was that no one seemed to be leaving. Even the 8 o’clock crowd was still around when eleven hit and the club filled up with hardcore partygoers.

Suddenly Chloe felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around. “How can I help you?” she said on autopilot.

“Little Miss Hotshot stuck moonlighting in a tacky bar. Yeah, go girl!” the woman said, and Chloe was snapped back to reality when she recognized the cocoa-skinned beauty from the office. The woman looked very different in a skintight turquoise dress instead of a tailored but still loose charcoal pantsuit.

“N-nice seeing you too. You’ll like it here... umm...” Chloe hesitated, realizing she’d never learned the woman’s name.

“Jamilla. Hah, our ‘best trader and future of the firm’ reduced to barmaid. Don’t just stand there, get me a cosmo,” the woman said with a smile.

Chloe scurried to the bar, where Li grabbed her by the bra strap and asked, “People going stupid yet?”

“No,” Chloe said with a sigh, hearing the frustration in Li’s voice and wondering if she was going to do something drastic. “I need a cosmo, but if you can tint it pink, you’d be awesome, or whatever it is that you do when a co-worker’s wide awake and spots you.” She heard the rising panic in her voice and thought about fucking for a minute until she could calm down. It bothered her that part of her was thinking that erotic fantasies shouldn’t calm her, and the conflict only made things worse.

“Ohhhh. That. We need to make her have such good time that she forget. Lemonade for us. What she like?” Li said with a smile.

“Uh, I said a cosmo, and she’s... she’s my competition. Like, she’ll blow our cover competition,” Chloe snapped, some of her old self starting to escape.

“What kind music? Can’t blow cover if she blow boss,” Li explained.

“I have no idea. R&B maybe? Hip-hop? Something like that?” Chloe guessed.

“Oh, easy. No better trance song than trance song about trance victim,” Li said, her smile growing wider and more evil. She entered something into her register and came back with a tray of drinks for Chloe, then pointed her back to the floor.

Chloe didn’t understand Li’s seeming lack of concern until she heard a version of “Disturbia” come on over the speakers that made Rihanna’s sound Disney tame. Not only did the impact shove Chloe’s conscious mind so far back into the depths that she might as well have been staring at a spiral, it also let parts of her mind that Inga had worked on come to the fore; her intuition, her cutthroat aggression, and her method of working were all coming out to play, and she knew what was going on, and she accepted it with enthusiasm.

“...In bed,” Chloe chirped back with an evil smile.

“On rooftop,” Li corrected as Chloe took off with her drinks. As she gave out her rounds, she saw many of the customers on the floor, dancing very provocatively, grinding and showing their assets. Others just stared, unable to comprehend, but growing hotter by the moment at the sight. Chloe was tingling as she approached Jamilla, who was slowly gyrating to the music, each move riding her dress up a little more to show her firm, smooth thighs. She barely stopped to grab her drink, then started to lower her straps coquettishly with her free hand. She showed no sign of recognizing Chloe as Chloe went around again.

When Chloe came back to get the next round of orders, Jamilla had made some new friends. Four other single girls in various levels of heat had joined her, judging the sweaty, aroused men and looking for an appropriate partner.

“Hey, Chloe, no wonder you work here! This place is hot!” Jamilla said with a happy giggle that sounded a little like the ones from the fuzzy pink room. Chloe started to understand now, and knew that it wasn’t a coincidence that her first night in the bar area had led her to cross paths with a co-worker. The patrons would all be from the same firms as the employees, or as prospective employees, and the intense high of the Rooftop would make everyone oblivious to the changes in their co-workers, make them blissfully unaware that their most successful producers were bound to an old Soviet. All they would know was that the Rooftop gave them the best times of their lives, and that the people who worked there were also driven professionals in their daily lives.

The trance music’s not for us. It’s for them, Chloe realized. And if they’re under her control... I had to be here to get that promotion. We’re all dancing on her strings. Some are just thicker than others... but isn’t that how it always is?

The music kicked up a little more, and Chloe felt a droplet rolling the length of her slit. Okay, the trance music’s mostly not for us, she reminded herself, and she went to do her job. Jamilla and her new posse signaled for another round, acting like they’d been best friends since childhood despite all of them just meeting.

“Li, you were so right! Another round of cosmos,” Chloe breathed out when she went back to the bar, realizing that watching Jamilla’s cold control melt away was making her just as hot.

“Not even midnight yet. That’s when we see who gives in and who goes home,” Li said proudly.

“Close, though,” Chloe said with a smile, pointing at the clock. As they looked at it, the time ticked over to 11:46.

“Oh! In which case, open wide!” Li said.

Chloe leaned on one of the stools and threw her head back, spreading her knees and flaunting her breasts.

“Mouth, not legs. Legs later,” Li corrected her, though the whoops of applause from the men nearby suggested that she hadn’t made as bad a mistake as she could have.

Chloe let her mouth fall open and her eyes go half-lidded as Li took out a spritzer and sprayed something into her mouth. The familiar sweet-sour tang of the pink lemonade hit her like a slow rush—just enough to keep her sharp and focused on her job of being the sexiest bimbo in the club. She could feel the effects kicking in as she added a new sway to her hips and an extra purr to her voice as she asked patrons for their orders.

A hand slid under her skirt and teased her ass. The old Chloe would have reared back with a kick and whipped around with a can of pepper spray. This Chloe worked with the touch, leaning into it even as she turned around—to see Bob, in a pair of tight jeans and an unbuttoned plaid shirt, his bolo tie long gone and his cowboy hat askew, his eyes locked on her diamond-studded cleavage. Well, I know what he’s smiling about, she thought, glancing further down. He might need to see a doctor if that stays up much longer, though.

“Hey, baby,” he said weakly, and Chloe realized that he wasn’t looking at her face, he was so enraptured by her body and the way the diamonds sparkled his eyes as her breasts rose and fell in time with her heavy breathing.

She knew she could do whatever she wanted with him now, dazed as he was by the music and the drinks and the boobs. But that wasn’t the point, at least not yet. All she did was steal his hat, which broke the spell enough for him to move his hand and laugh. She struck a cowgirl pose before getting back to work and hanging the hat somewhere more appropriate as she strutted away.

Her route took her next to Jamilla’s group, and they were almost ready for the roof from the looks of it. The girls who remained solo in the group were staring blankly ahead at the erotic scenes before them, hands in their cleavage or up their skirts. Two new faces had joined them, with two of the others out on the floor dry humping two handsome men more or less in time with the music. The smell of sex was strong in the air, even under the scents of alcohol and perfume, and she knew that the dancers had lost their panties somewhere along the line.

Jamilla’s legs were crossed so tightly that Chloe could see her ass flexing under the turquoise skirt, but her amber eyes were trying to focus on Chloe as Chloe brought her the cosmo. She reached out and grabbed Chloe’s arm before she could turn away. “Wha... what’ssss... what’s goin’...” she started to ask.

But Chloe was well versed in the kind of struggle that Jamilla was having, both from her own experience and from the spiral films she had seen, and she wasn’t having with that. She leaned in close to Jamilla as if to whisper a secret to her, but instead nibbled her ear and stroked the inside of her thighs. That was enough for the last shred of Jamilla’s train of thought to evaporate, and she turned her head to give Chloe a deep, warm kiss before going to the ladies’ room. All the other girls could do was giggle.

Then she got an idea about how to get them ready faster, her oil trading aggression merging with her bimbo barmaid lust. She glanced at the girls and licked her lips. “The best times are always with someone... someone just as hot as you are... someone just as wanting as you are...” she purred. Sure enough, two jaws went slack and two of the girls started making out. Chloe smiled and went to finish her rounds.

She was done when the music changed to more sensual and sexual tunes, and she knew that the clock had struck midnight. It was time to start collecting for the roof. Sofia tapped her on the shoulder to get her attention and said, “Time for your first round up. The regulars are already being loaded. Look for clothes coming off, privates in full view, dry humping that’s turning wetter by the minute... you get the idea.”

As she explained, she demonstrated by walking over to one of the couples against the wall. The woman’s hips churned against her boyfriend’s hand as he reached up her skirt and pulled at the waistband of her panties. One whisper in their ears and they froze in place, then came to attention and went to the elevators. Shelby was at one with all the men, Christina at the other with all the women. They lined up like dolls, and the doors closed on blank faces and glassy eyes.

“Wow, what did you say to them?” Chloe asked.

“What the tape loop’s been saying to them the whole time. ‘Are you ready for the rooftop?’ It’s a trigger. If their brains are all nice and melted, they’ll go blank. They know the key to release is there, but they also know that what happens there stays there. They’ll remember that they came here, had a great time, and got lucky. The details? No clue and no reason to want a clue,” Sofia explained.

The fact that Sofia could say this without any second guessing told Chloe all she needed to know, and she strutted off with a smirk on her face, ready to return to work. Some instinct, perhaps implanted during her training, told her to work the outside tables first.

Not everyone was taken. Around her, a trickle of people were heading for the exit, either satisfied enough for the evening or not fully taken by the music and the lights. This time, Chloe thought, knowing that the hook was set.

One couple was definitely ready, by her judgment. A Latino couple had gotten hot and heavy at one of the tables, the man with both hands down his girlfriend’s low-cut top and fondling her intensely as her hand reached down his pants. “Are you ready for the rooftop?” Chloe cooed to them.

The woman almost came as she went blank and walked over to the elevator. The man had to wait a minute for the blood to rush back to his brain and extremities before following her like a wind-up toy. Chloe watched them go with a smirk and continued to work on her area, collecting the night’s tips from the departures and sending the rest up on the elevator. Finally, she made it back to Jamilla’s table and even she had to stare at the tableau.

The two girls she had enticed to make out were in a full-on girl-girl show on their part of the floor, with a circle of raucous admirers surrounding them, grinding hips and groping freely. All of them blanked out and went to the elevator when Chloe whispered the trigger to them, until the two girls were exposed on their patch of the floor—then literally, when the girl with gold woven into her dreads started to peel off her shorter companion’s leopard-print top.

“Easy there, girls! I know a place where you can go for that... but are you ready for the rooftop?” Chloe said, stepping in between them. The trigger snapped them both out of their single-minded hormonal haze and gave them a new obsession.

As they walked away, Chloe looked around her area for any stragglers and found one—Jamilla, sprawled out on one of the stools, the turquoise dress darkened to teal and stuck skintight to her body by sweat, the skirt rucked up around her hips so her knees could fall open to reveal her naked pussy available to anyone who wanted to use it, too molten and submissive to move. One hand dangled between her legs, but she couldn’t will it those few inches to start fingering herself and release the pressure.

“Are you ready for the rooftop, Jamilla?” Chloe asked with devilish pride. Jamilla rose slowly, eyes rolled up in her head until only the whites showed bright against her brown skin, and if her arms were out in front of her, she would look like something out of one of Chloe’s favorite movies. She thought about it, but Inga—mistress, Chloe’s cunt reminded her—didn’t seem to have a sense of humor, so she just followed Jamilla to the elevator to make sure she didn’t walk into a wall or anything like that.

“That’s the last of your area. Eighty-five percent, not bad for your first night. You’re on this load,” Christina told her. “You’ll wanna face the girls, trust me.”

Chloe boarded the elevator and faced her charges. From the slight reflections she saw in glassy eyes and sparkling jewelry, she could understand why; just the thought of the lights she vaguely remembered hypnotizing her during her interview made her dizzy for a moment, and she knew that the women’s minds were being emptied out even further.

“Just to make sure they don’t remember anything but having a generic good time. This’ll make sure anything they remember is just a fantasy in their subconscious. Today’s pose is breasts out of tops. Better step to it, rookie. Got thirty-five in here and two more loads ready to go.”

Chloe took the hint and started pulling down tops and dresses to reveal a wide array of breasts, most of them unhindered by bras; those who had managed to keep their bras on lost them at this point. When they were finished, Christina commanded them out of the elevator to finish their deepening, then let the door close behind them.

“Inga sets the theme,” Christina explained in a worshipful tone that suggested how hard it was for her to use Inga’s actual name. “This week is simple. Wait ‘til summer and some of the outfits we have them change into... but most of this group is new, so we’re going to ease them into it.”

Chloe grinned as the elevator came out onto the rooftop, looking over the bright sprawl of Dallas. One side was all women, the other side was all men. In the middle, her fellow barmaids were on a stripper stage, and Chloe went to them without a thought, as if drawn by a magnet. Her heart was beating faster and her pussy was growing warmer by the second as she saw the mindless people standing there, sexual objects just as helpless as she was. Both sides were topless, the men changed into tight jeans, the women wearing skirts or half-undone dresses. While she tried to avoid looking at Bob, most of the men were prime meat. Then she turned her attention to the women and the bare breasts on display; again, though some were flat-chested or sagging, most were very enticing.

“Why did I ever fight this?” Lucinda muttered almost too quietly for Chloe to hear, the last word coming out as an aroused sigh.

Indeed, Chloe agreed, her gaze on Jamilla as she was put into line with the rest of the women.

A great bell tolled out once, then twice. Inga hit the floor and took the microphone. “Welcome to the Rooftop. All of you are about to have the best time you will never remember. You will remember that you went to a club, loved it, had sex, and can’t wait to come back. Understood?” she rapped out.

The drone of “Yessss...", flat and mindless like a prayer, unnerved even Shelby and Christina. Inga smiled, thin and sharp and satisfied, and went on, “This week’s theme is for the ladies. Boys will do the seducing this week. Girls, you are out of your tops only for relief. You may fondle yourselves, but touch nothing below the waist until you are utterly consumed with need. Then you will join us on the bed and get your fill until sunrise. At sunrise, you will, as always, put your clothes back on, drive home safely, and fall asleep in your own bed until at least noon. All this will be nothing but a fantasy buried deep in your mind until next Friday, when you will have an undying desire to visit again. Good. You know how this starts. My wonderful staff, begin.”

The music started, and Chloe felt her legs wrap around the pole, letting her skirt creep up to where her panties could be seen, as she spun as if she had been a stripper since high school cheerleading. Funny, I flunked out of gymnastics when my cartwheel was more like that wonky wheel on the shopping cart, Chloe thought, and she juiced at the thought of what other new knowledge Inga had put into her brain.

She was a new woman, a sexier woman, a stronger woman, and that confidence overtook her. She worked off her dress, tossing it at the hot strongman in the third row. He caught it automatically and came forward to pull her close, gently teasing her breasts before working down her sides to ease her panties off as he guided her to her knees. She could smell his musk, feel how hard he was in the jeans, and she was happy to unzip him and start running her tongue along his shaft. Her hormones were kicking in, and she didn’t know whether she wanted to blow his brains out or throw him on the stage and make him ram that cock into her until she exploded, but she understood her place. She was supposed to warm everyone up, nothing else—the guests had the privilege of finishing off.

She drank up, working her mouth around the man’s very impressive cock. As she brought him closer to the edge, she felt an imperious tap on her shoulder and a shove to the side. Jamilla smiled and took her place. While she looked for another partner, Jamilla grabbed her thigh. Taking the hint, Chloe kissed the man as his eyes rolled back in pleasure. He played with Chloe’s breasts while Jamilla finished him off.

All things considered, Chloe wasn’t as surprised as she might have been when Jamilla got up off her knees and delivered a kiss to Chloe that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a Wolf video.

“Never would have guessed,” Lucinda teased while she lowered herself onto the man to get him up again.

Chloe laughed and felt herself being carried to the “bed”— a giant padded stage that filled the area where someone had once had a swimming pool. Some of the other girls, once they had a couple of rounds with the men, decided to explore their lesbian tendencies, and soon Chloe was the ringmaster of a girl-girl circus. It was a community service, she decided; it kept some of the extra women busy so they didn’t feel left out, and it got the men excited so they could go another round.

After about the third orgasm, Chloe lost track of time. She was aware of certain basic things: dark, hot, wet, mouth, pussy, tits, hands, pleasure, need, desire, touch. These were the important things, and she lost herself in climax after climax, until she felt like nothing more than a pretty doll to be used however would get someone off.

Gradually, the darkness faded away, replaced with purples and pinks. She came one last time and in turn brought the woman between her legs to climax. They rose in unison to join the women marching down to a mass shower. Clean-up was mechanical, not sensual, though Chloe wondered if that was occasionally a theme as well. Clothes were in labeled bags, and their owners put their outfits on without thinking about the lingering scent of sex or the drying stains left on them. A mass exodus to the parking garage followed.

At the first sight of her bed, Chloe felt her eyes grow heavy, and she was dead to the world as soon as she collapsed onto the sheets