The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Professionalism

Disclaimer: No one and nothing in this story is real.

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Synopsis

Connie applies for a VP position, but the company president doesn’t believe she’s the right person.

* * *

In the main office at the top floor of Interest Inc., President and owner Dean Harley sat in his leather chair. It was a great chair, he knew, because he personally witnessed the slaughtering of the cows used to make its full-grain leather. He didn’t pay much for the chair, but he had a way with people, and a way with success, and he didn’t like others who looked up at his throne with an usurping eye.

He thumbed the leather of his chair’s arm as he glanced at the resume in front of him. Connie Delgado. He’d heard her name before. Graduated near the top of her class, a PhD in business and a bachelor’s in econ, VP of a Fortune 500 company and prior to that a top manager at a large law firm.

Too bad he was top of his class, and owner of one of the top 10 companies in the world. She was good but not that special. He rubbed his eyes and set the resume down; it had been another long day. He had to interview this woman in front of him, however, and he knew she was a shark who would try to knock him off balance, move up in the world, and take his job. Unfortunately for her, he’d dealt with her type many times, and all it would take is a little crack of her self-confidence, composure, and maybe a little extra to put her in her place. He gave a little crack of a smile as his eyes met hers.

“Miss Delgado, why do you want to be my next VP?”

Connie looked him in the eyes strongly, “As you can see in my resume, I am an accomplished businesswoman, and I see this company as the next step in my rising career path.”

“Right. You look a bit young for someone who was a Vice President already. Do you think you’re ready for this?”

Connie took offense at the statement, just as Dean had intended, “I assure you I have all the experience necessary! I may be only 31 but the skills I have to offer are unmatched.”

“Oh, I bet they are.” Dean decided he was enjoying the interview, and pushed her a bit further. “I’m sure you worked your way to the top, doing what you had to do to get there.”

Connie’s face became visibly perturbed as she struggled to keep her composure. “Are you suggesting something by that statement Dean? I can call you Dean, right?”

“I’m not suggesting anything, merely stating that you are hardworking. And you may call me anything you’d like, for now.”

A little confused by the last sentence, but thrown off balance, Connie tried to regain control of the interview, “What can this job offer to me then, Dean?”

“It will definitely change you; I’d say it would help you become more of the professional I’d need you to be.”

“Are you implying I’m not?”

-Freeze-

Dean sat in his chair, looking across at Connie Delgado’s face, frozen in its expression of contempt for Dean and the implied insults he’d tossed her way. He walked over to her, moving through the frozen space of the room, and stroked her cheek. He looked at her black pantsuit, cut sharp and professional. Her short black heels made her look strong yet fashionable. Her blonde hair was tied in a tight bun, and she wore a small gold watch on her wrist. Her makeup was light and tasteful. Looking at her body, he guessed she was about 5′4″, no more than maybe 110-120 pounds, and around a 36B. She would make a wonderful slut, he thought.

Smarts and drive weren’t the only tools Dean had to get him where he was today. In fact, he didn’t even need the smarts, though he was grateful for them. It was so much easier to appreciate the full potential of his power this way. Time was stopped for everyone but him, and with it came the power to control what he wanted. He purposefully avoided anything extreme like becoming the President of the United States, or anything like that. He wanted money and power, sure, but something like that was far too much attention and he didn’t want to live like that. Besides, playing with women like Connie was much more his fancy.

He left his office for a moment, and shortly after his secretary, Ms. Vivi walked through the door. Her expression was blank, and she awaited instruction. Coming in behind her, he spoke, “Start with the panties, as we spoke about.”

After some time he looked over Connie. She was no longer wearing the boring white granny panties he saw when Ms. Vivi was changing her. She now wore a hot pink G-string, the sides of which were pulled up her hips, and visible over the top of her pants.

“You may go for now Ms. Vivi.” He kept her unfrozen but still under his control. He would be using her often this afternoon.

Leaning over to Connie, his face remained stern as he spoke in her ear. “You have no intention to leave this interview. Any changes that you notice about yourself you will think are your own doing.” He had discovered that along with his mastery over time, his words had a funny way of becoming truth to those he spoke it to. He had used this feature to create his secretary accomplice Ms. Vivi, and was looking forward to use it to toy with Connie.

He sat back in his chair and readied himself.

-Unfreeze-

Connie looked at him awaiting an answer as he just stared at her.

He sat for a moment before realizing he had forgotten what she had said last.

“Well? Are you saying I’m not a professional?”

Ah, right, he thought. “You give off the impression of one, to be sure, but your, uh, unprofessionalism is showing.”

He proceeded to use a hand to block his view of her g-string showing in order to make her look down at herself. It worked, and she looked at herself for a moment before realizing what was wrong.

“Oh my god! I mean, I don’t—It’s, I’m sorry!” she panicked before hiding the thong straps back in her pants and trying to pull down her jacket some more. It was clear that after the initial confusion, she was embarrassed about what she felt was her own doing.

They continued talking, Connie having gotten over her initial embarrassment, but not used to wearing a thong, found herself shifting in her seat uncomfortably as it rode up her ass.

“When it comes down to it, Miss Delgado, all I really care about is professionalism. Disregarding your earlier...incident, what makes you think you can give me what I’m looking for?”

He didn’t really care about her answer, but he wanted to see what kind of bs she would tell him. “I get the job done, I’m prepared to work long hours, I’m an excellent speaker, and I dress professionally.”

“Do you believe what you are wearing to be professional?”

“Yes. Do you not think black is a suitable color for a VP?”

“Certainly, and the shoes are sharp as well.” He said that, knowing it would prompt her to fold her legs, in order to show off her expensive shoes.

Sure enough, she began to move her leg, and he reacted accordingly.

-Freeze-

A quick change later, he smiled, awaiting her reaction.

-Unfreeze-

She lifted her leg and folded it gingerly over the other, looking him straight in the eye as she spoke, “Thank you. I appreciate good taste.”

“Alas,” he cocked his eyebrow, “you aren’t wearing black, nor would I call the shoes ‘professional’, I’m afraid.”

Her eyes darted downward and grew into big circles as she saw what changed. Her pantsuit was no longer black; it was now a violet color. More importantly, her shoes were now 6-inch clear plastic heels! She let out a yelp as she quickly set her foot back down, relieved when she saw that her new bellbottom pants were long enough to hide all but a sliver of her new heels.

Dean smiled as he watched her resolve the situation in her head. Deciding that she had somehow the suit and heels were hers, though she couldn’t remember buying them, and that she had made a huge mistake wearing the heels to an interview like this. She was clearly flustered now.

Dropping his smile, he looked at her, “All in all, given today’s encounter, you are trying to project professionalism, but are clearly not professional. I’m not sure you are what we are looking for.”

Wanting to yell at him, but knowing what she was wearing, she gave a lame argument, “I am too a professional! You just have to give me a chance! I have nothing to hide, you can ask anybody!”

“Why would I believe anyone I ask? It’s obvious you’re a very attractive woman, and you could have used that to your advantage.”

“H-how dare you!” She was angry now, “I’m not using my looks to get a job! Looks aren’t everything Dean.” She wanted to leave, or report him, or do anything but stay in this terrible interview, but she found the will to do so quickly leave her, and she remained seated.

“I disagree, looks are everything. If I do not look professional, no one will respect me as such. Am I wrong? Likewise, your wig and nails are your attempt to remain professional looking.

“What? I’m not—”

-Freeze-

Dean spoke to Connie as Ms. Vivi worked on her. “You very much want this job, no matter what conditions I offer.”

-Unfreeze-

She grabbed at her hair and found black strands as she felt the mass slide slightly on her head. Oh my god I forgot I shaved my hair, she thought, trying to adjust the black wig back into place. As she ran her fingers through her now loose black hair, she noticed her nails. They were now 1.5 inches long, and painted a neutral peach color, as if trying to hide them. She bit her lip and thrusted her hands down to her seat. Why did I get my nails done that way, I look like a bimbo, she thought to herself.

Dean stood up, getting Connie’s attention, “You’re right, though. Looks aren’t everything. It’s clear to me that you want this position. I do have some conditions, however.”

Connie felt the want for this job hit her very strongly, and she found herself blurting out, “Anything!”

“I want to personally assess your skill level. To see if you’re cut out for the job, if you will. I want you to be my personal assistant for some time. If I deem you fit for the job, then it’s yours.”

She wanted to yell at him for offering her such a lowly position, but found herself wanting it too bad to say otherwise, “For how long?”

He did his best to keep a straight face. “At least a few weeks, perhaps a month or two. Unpaid of course, as I haven’t actually hired you yet. Do we have a deal?”

“Wait, but how will—?”

“This is my only offer, Ms. Delgado.”

She found herself too afraid to assert herself, “Ok I’ll take it! I’ll take it!”

“Excellent. One last thing, if I find you to not be up to my standards of professionalism, I will not give you the job. So please, do your best next time to present yourself as such. It may not be that important to you, but it is my job to give.”

Connie wanted to tell him about how she did think it was important, but how could she when she dressed herself like a little bimbo?

“Ah, do you have a card? I like to keep one in my file.”

Connie reached into her purse, “Of course.”

Dean stood next to her as she opened her purse wide, looking for her card, when she audibly gasped. Her purse was stuffed full of condoms as well as a small pink vibrator. She could barely collect herself as she pulled the purse away from Dean and closed it, sticking her hand inside and blindly feeling around until she found the card.

She pulled the card out, “H-here you go!” she said in a hurry, and as she did a condom wrapper slid off the card to the floor.

“EEP!” She picked it up quickly and started mincing out the office, much slower than she wanted to given her heels.

“Ah, I’ll see you tomorrow Ms. Delgado?”

“YES! I mean, of course, Dean. I have to go now!”

“Alright Ms. Delgado, I’m looking forward to working with you!”

On her way out he froze time one last time. He was smiling as he read the newspaper; he had decided to locally speed up time for the talented Ms. Vivi, one of his few powers he tried not to think about mechanically, as he watched Ms. Vivi delivering his final gifts for Connie to discover tonight in hyperspeed.

* * *

Connie stepped into her apartment and took off her heels. She felt immediate relief, and wondered what possessed her to buy shoes like that. Her feet were sore, but ever since she left the interview so did the rest of her body. She wondered if she was coming down with something. As she walked to the restroom she hoped she wasn’t, she couldn’t afford to be sick on her first day!

She decided to get into her pajamas and relax, and perhaps sleep early this evening. Peeling off her wig she revealed her buzzcut blonde hair underneath. She made a mental note to pick up a blonde wig too at some point so she could have hair that resembled her original hair as well. Wigs were so convenient, she thought. She turned on the sink and began washing her face. Her expression became concerned as she noticed water turn a peach color. Had she been wearing that much makeup? She looked at her face and the mirror and screamed when she saw herself. Underneath the thick but subtle makeup she washed off her face was extreme, slutty heavy makeup. She tried scrubbing at it but it wouldn’t come off. Suddenly she ‘remembered’ that she had gotten it tattooed on. She took stock of the makeup and its dark outlines around her eyes, hot pink cheeks, and bright right lipstick, outlined in a thick dark red. Her eyebrows had been permanently removed, and tattooed in as pencil thin arched black lines.

She felt a rush of excitement as her thoughts filled with the idea of having done that. She knew it made her look like a slutty porn star, but at the same time she had gotten it done anyways. Admiring the job, she stripped down and immediately saw another change. She had numerous tattoos all over her body! Thoughts of choosing each one came to her mind as she looked them over; they didn’t cover her body, but they did extend down to the ends of her limbs, as well as up to her neck. She was annoyed at how difficult she made getting a respectable job for herself.

Connie then realized she wasn’t wearing her normal bra. Instead she had some cloth binding around her chest. As she unwrapped it, she marveled at her now-humongous EE breasts. They were clearly implants, and stuck out of her chest like globes, proud of their fakeness. Was that why her breasts were sore? She was woozy with the numerous changes done to her, as her mind tried to reconcile them all. Why did she do this to herself? Wasn’t she a Vice President? Her head became fuzzy and she decided that it didn’t matter why, all that mattered was her new job, and that she present herself as a professional. She looked at herself in the mirror, tattoos, makeup, huge tits and all, and figured she would have to put in some effort to not look like the slut she was looking at. She became embarrassed as she called herself that, and continued to take a shower.

The shower had felt good, though her body still felt sore, and she went to eat dinner. Realizing she didn’t have any food, she sighed as she had to change clothes once again. Looking at her face as she walked by, she felt as if she should at least try to hide her extreme makeup a little and went looking for her makeup. Instead she found herself confused as she could only find the small amount of makeup she had owned prior to meeting Dean, and discovered the powder foundation compact she owned did nothing at all to hide the permanent makeup. She sighed once again to herself; she would have to go buy some makeup somewhere tonight as well. Connie didn’t try to cover up the makeup any further before going out, nor did she try to bind her breasts. Slipping into the plastic 6-inch heels without thinking about it, she found herself thinking that while she had to look professional for work, it didn’t really matter what she looked like outside of that.