The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I strolled down the street, feet bare, carrying my shoes. It had been a long day, followed by a long evening, and it felt good to let my feet rest, stretch my legs and just breathe in the night air. I was on my way home from Adam’s place and after the workout he put me through I certainly needed to stretch my legs. A pleasant ache filled my body as I hummed to myself, reveling in the hot summer night.

It was one of those perfect evenings, just the right temperature that you could strip naked and run through the streets without catching a chill. Not that “I” would ever do that of course.

A hot breeze blew up the street, swirling my hair around my face, and with a low rumble I belatedly realized that a storm was brewing.

I began to hurry, as the first drops of rain pattered down around me, but I was too late, and by the time I reached my building I was drenched. My thin sun dress plastered to my skin, and clearly revealing my lack of preparation for the weather in the total absence of undergarments.

As I passed people on the street I caught more than my share of looks from men with umbrellas, but of course, no offers of aid. Until I reached my door.

Paul.. My doorman’s name is Paul by the way.. Rushed out from the entrance to throw his coat around my shoulders. I rolled my eyes, I’m ashamed to say, thinking he saw a girl in distress, and saw an opportunity. But as he rushed me inside his eyes didn’t linger on my curves, or even on my face. He was rushing back out into the sudden storm to help a passer-bye, whose umbrella had been turned inside out and was being hauled down the street. I watched the pudgy man dash back and forth, for close to 5 minutes watching him help them catch the escaping umbrella, help a bedraggled man in from his car, and yes, I swear to god, even help an old lady who was stuck across the street.

I was stunned. This small, poorly paid, unattractive man was going out of his way to help people who wouldn’t give him the time of day. And what was worse, most of them didn’t seem to notice.

I smiled, and reminded myself that not everyone was as self involved as I was, and that there were in fact good people in the world. And on that lovely thought, I dripped my way back to my apartment to find a hot bath.

The next morning is when things started to go wrong. For as Paul surely knew, in this world it seems everyone wants the nice guys to finish last.

As I arrived downstairs for my morning run, I found a scene waiting for me. Poor Paul was looking rather worse the wear after his excursions last night. In fact his coat was rather stained, and looked to still be wet. All in all not cutting the most professional figure at our door, I must admit. Unfortunately I wasn’t the only one to notice, as Emily Samson was standing in the lobby screaming at him at the top of her lungs.

Mrs. Samson is something of a personal annoyance to me. As a member of the strata council she is quick to report any... Noise violations coming from my apartment, and just my luck, she lives right underneath me.

A spoiled urban housewife without children, she had nothing better to do than spend money on plastic surgery, make trouble for others, and serve as transport for that ridiculous dog of hers.

She berated Paul, and I could see the frustration and shame in his eyes, almost bringing the poor man to tears. Apparently this wasn’t the first time his uniform had been less than spotless, and she was working herself into a towering rage, insinuating that she would make sure he lost his job.

I couldn’t believe the gall of the bitch as I watched from the elevator. How cocky she was, and how certain of her superiority. I decided that Paul didn’t deserve his treatment.. and held the door open for Emily as she stormed my way.

“Going up?” I asked innocently, standing aside for the raging pampered princess.

“Oh it’s you. 50.” She said in a huff, crossing her arms and subtly pulling back, as if afraid she would catch something just by breathing the same air as me.

“Can you believe that man? Coming to work like that?” She asked, waving her hand in my face.

“Well.. I’m sure he had a good reason. Did you ask?” I barely got the words out before she cut me off. “There Is No excuse for looking like that.. He represents this building!” leaving the words unspoken that by extension he represented her.

“Surely his actions count more than his appearance?” I asked with a grin.

“You’re kidding yourself.. The outside reflects the inside.. If he’s sloppy on the outside, he obviously doesn’t care about this job.” She shoot her head.. with a disgusted look.

“You must be right, of course.. People are what they look like, right?” I kept my tones even, soothing,

“R.right..” she muttered, stealing a glance at my red lips, and unconfined breasts, shifting under my dress. “You seem to understand perfectly that.. appearance is everything.” Her tone dripped with venom, as if to say that I also looked.. Inappropriate.

I smiled and let the conversation lull, listening to her breathing even out.

“Don’t you just love the new display they put in for the elevators? I’m so glad you took my suggestion” I I nodded at the floor display, a soothing colorful blend that faded from one floor to another. It’s interesting, how off center people are in elevators. They can’t fit it in to any of their normal social conventions, and so any conversation tends to put them off balance.

“Yes well.. it was by far the cheapest bid.. It made good business sense, was nothing to do with..” She trailed off, disappointed that anything I proposed had been accepted, and unable to accept that I may have offered a good suggestion based on any valid reasons.

“They are lovely though aren’t they.. the way they fade in and out, relaxing.. " I murmured, making her strain to hear me..

“Y.yes.. quite relaxing”

“It’s fitting for an elevator, which can be stressful for some.. helping them relax”

“They help you just, let go your tensions, your apprehensions, don’t they.” I asked quietly.. deliberately keeping my voice level, turning it into a statement.

“mmhmm” she muttered, under her breath.

“So easy to tune out as we ride.. relax.. wait for the ride to end”

“So easy to relax, listen to the chimes, watch the number scroll by.”

“relax.. relax and listen dear.. so relaxing to listen isn’t it” I watched her eyes glaze over as she let the numbers roll by.. 30.. 31.. I’d have to be fast.

She murmured an affirmation under her breath.. mouth hanging open, eyes fixed and empty.

“Just relax and listen dear.. Nothing else matters.. nothing disturbing you.. nothing at all” I leaned in closer, letting my breathe brush over her ear, heightening her discomfort, her distress, not letting her poor mind settle into an accepted pattern, keeping her off balance.

I whispered in her ear growing quieter, forcing her to lean in to hear.

“Feels so good to relax doesn’t it.. feels pleasurable. so nice.. to relax and listen. Just want to relax and listen to me.”

I watched her breathing settle.. her eyes focus on the numbers, as her mind struggled to find anything familiar, anything she could handle, watching her lock onto those numbers and follow them.. follow my words.

“So relaxing.. liberating.. just listening.. following”

“following.. " her muttered response made me grin as stepped around her.. staring into her eyes.. forcing a break in her anchor.. in the only thing holding her back.

“relax dear.. Deeper and deeper”

She stared back into my eyes.. struggling to hold on.. eye lids growing heavier, weaker.. swaying on her feet. I reached out to steady her, letting my words guide her deeper.

“Deeper.. relax dear.. let it happen.. feels so good to let go.. let go.. no need to feel so tense.. so uptight.. so stressed.. just relax.. Deeper and deeper.”

She rocked on her heels.. staring into my eyes.. her eyelids fluttering as her mouth opened and closed.. as if struggling to speak.

“So good.. feels so good.. just relax dear.. relax.. sleep”

I let my hands pull her forward, brushing a palm over her eyes, forcing her head back as her body moved forward. The sudden shock slamming her eyes shut, slowing her breathing, letting her body go limp in my hands. I steadied her.. letting her regain her balance as I talked her down deeper.. and deeper..

“Good girl.. just drift.. listen..”

I let my eyes rake over her.. taking in all the little details.

I’ve always had a gift, for reading people, seeing their little quirks, what makes them tick. And Emily was, like many corporate wife’s, hopelessly uptight. She stressed over everything, since so little was in her control, she gripped what she could reach with a death grip. And like most, it exhausted her, she was just dying to let it slip, but was just too afraid.

I took in her frame, her enlarged breasts carefully concealed in a neat blue jacket. It revealed so much, how she was willing to change herself to please her husband, how she sought his approval. Probably had an absent father figure, and now was eager to seek the approval of authority figures.

The elevator reached our floor, as I looked at my relaxed neighbor, and thought on what to do with her. A wicked idea occurred to me, and I reached over to push the button for the main floor.

“You were made at Paul weren’t you Emily?” I asked her gently.. leading her thoughts.

“yes.. he..” I cut her off quickly “But you can’t remember what he did.. can you.. it all seems so .. silly now.. getting mad for nothing.”

“no.. he.. um..” I cut her off again.. leading her “You can’t remember what he did.. in fact.. you got mad for no reason..”

“Oh.. that’s..” I smiled as she accepted her new reality. “Paul is really a nice man isn’t he.. he runs the doorway, with such confidence.. such authority..”

She quirked her mouth.. confused “he.. does?”

“Yes, he does Emily. He has such confidence, such authority at the door, running it, helping people. He’s such a nice man, so kind”

“Oh.. “ she murmured.. a bit sadly..

“Yes.. and you were so cruel to him, weren’t you.. Made him so sad..” I whispered in her ear as the elevator began it’s slow descent.

“Ohh..” I continued, guiding her thoughts. “You’re terribly sorry, aren’t you Emily, for being so cruel to him.. You want to make it up to him, don’t you.”

“yes.. he’s so nice.. want to please him.. runs the door.. should be nice” I smiled, seeing how she had picked up that he was an authority figure, watching her own internal programming pick it up and run with it. A lifetime of trying to please male authority figures stepping in. I quickly moved on to the next phase of my little scheme.

“Remember what you said dear.. about how what you look like determines how you act?” I grinned wickedly.. pulling a bright red lipstick out of my purse, and quickly applying a thick coat to her slack lips as the floors counted down.

“myeah” she responded.. swaying gently on her feet.

“Appearance is all that matters.. right?” I whispered with a grin. Unbuttoning that thick jacket, revealing a lovely silk blouse beneath.

“yeah..”

“What you look like.. that’s all that matters.. that’s who you are..” I repeated for her, cementing the idea in her mind, peeling off her jacket, hiking up her skirt to show off her rather stunning legs.

“You believe that.. don’t you. Totally and completely.. Down to your core. Don’t you.” I reached down to slowly lower her panties, leaving them in a pool about her black patent pumps.

“yeah sure..”

“Say it for me dear.. Believe it more and more.. repeat it.. believing it more and more.” I breathed the words in her ear, unbuttoning her blouse to expose some surprisingly racy red lingerie. I suddenly had an image of what this woman’s private life was like. A whore in the bedroom indeed..

“what.. look like.. swho you are.. " she murmured.. words getting firmer as she spoke, even as I deftly unbuttoned her bra, leaving her firm breasts exposed to the air. Her nipples didn’t respond immediately, and I wondered if the surgery had cost her some sensitivity.. before I jerked my wandering mind back to task. I would have plenty of time to admire her body later.

I let her repeat those words, a mantra for a while as I worked. Those fake tits didn’t need the support, so I tossed the bra aside and pulled her blouse back on. The soft silk caressing her skin as I buttoned it only half way. The cleavage thus created left very little the imagination. It was clear she wasn’t wearing a bra, and equally clear that her breasts couldn’t be natural.

“Your appearance.. Defines you.. Say it and believe it dear” I reached out to caress her breasts for a moment, feeling her nipples erect, poking through the thin silk and thrusting themselves into the spotlight I was getting rather.. worked up, to be working with such a lovely subject. I knew I would need to spend quite some time rolling this image over and over in my head once I got back to my room.

“My appearance Defines me.. " She gasped.. her eyes fluttering, her lips mimicking my words. I quickly checked the floor, 25, halfway back.

“Good girl Emily” I whispered as she beamed at the praise.. Isn‘t that sweet.. She must not get enough positive re-enforcement from her husband..

I gently held her shoulders and turned her to face the full length elevator mirror. “I want you to relax Emily.. stay so relaxed.. and open your eyes” I held her gently, whispering in her ear, and watched as she opened her eyes with a gasp.. taking in the image before her. I felt a deliciously erotic thrill as I watched her mind struggle with the unexpected image.

There she was.. in a terribly short skirt, and half buttoned silk blouse, her breasts thrust forward as I held back her shoulders. I watched her eyes fasten on her erect nipples and widen in surprise and fascination. As her eyes moved up her body I listened to her breath rasp out of her, filling with arousal. I smiled knowing that she had made the correct interpretation.

“What do you see Emily?” I whispered in her ear..

“A .. slut.. “ she whispered.. a thick.. heavy breathy tone filling her throat. As her eyes raked over the image before her. The thick make-up, glistening red lips, fake, round tits, with no bra to conceal the erect nipples. I watched her make the connections.. hard nipples meant arousal.. short skirt.. no bra, meant she was a slut..

She moaned.. arousal overtaking her as he tongue darted out to wet her lips..

“What else Emily?” I murmured, licking her earlobe, sliding my hands around her body to caress her breasts.

She leaned back against me, eyes wide open, staring, her mouth gasping with pleasure.

“A .. horny.. slut.. she looks.. like a whore.. some.. cock sucking.. slut.. with that lipstick..” She shuddered, writhing against me as my hand slipped down under her skirt to tease.. finding her already dripping.. waiting.. eager.

“Good girl..” I whispered.. feeling her press forward into my hands, moaning at my words. Still so eager to please.

“That’s who you are isn’t it Emily.. a horny slut..” She moaned.. nodding.. unable to take her eyes off the erotic display taking place before her in the mirror.

I looked up, and realized my time was short. I gently pulled her around to face me and stared into her half lidded eyes.

“Emily.. were almost to the main floor. Do you remember who’s on the main floor?” I spoke slowly, trying to cut through the haze of lust that was overwhelming her.

“uh huh.. Paaul..” She smiled, reaching out to try and pull me into a kiss. I pushed her back, smiling at the cute little pouting face she made.

“That’s right.. and what do you think of Paul?” I asked, reminding myself that I could take a turn with her later.

“Ohh poor Paul.. I got so mad at him.. I shouldn’a done that.. I feel so baad..” her face contorting in a cute little grimace.. eyes brimming with tears.

“That’s ok Emily.. because you’re going to make it up to him..”

“Ohh yeah..” She grinned.. licking her lips, her mind immediately connecting how a horny slut could make up an offense to a kind male authority figure that she had maligned.

I stepped back, watching the floor counter reach 1, and felt the elevator begin to slow. Emily stepped forward, eagerly awaiting the opening of the doors. Her hands gripped her tits.. kneading them eagerly, almost needy as she shifted her weight from foot to foot.

As the doors slid open and my little playmate rushed out into the lobby I smiled. I watched the formerly prim corporate wife stalk through the waiting throng and throw herself at the feet of the shocked pudgy doorman.

I waved to Paul, but I’m sure he didn’t notice, too distracted by the woman who had just yelled at him fishing his rapidly hardening member out of his pants as she begged forgiveness.

As the elevator doors closed I smiled, watching a nice guy finally finish first.

Poor Paul, how embarrassing. I can only do so much.