The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive


by Captain Dunsel



Bridget had no idea where she was, but she knew she was on her way to someplace important… so she could do something... important. She collided with yet another wall… they seemed to be everywhere… and slumped against it, giggling. She stayed there for a while, enjoying the way the building was twisting and distorting and spinning around her. It was very pleasant, and she was tempted to stay there forever, but she knew she had to get back to work, that she had something important to do.

“Gotta blow lab inna… job inna Missser Lammmferr… innnerviews,” she slurred by way of sternly but gently reminding herself. It was important. She pushed herself off the wall, staggered two steps to the left, staggered two steps back to the right, then continued to stagger down the ever-twisting, constantly-buckling corridor. She thought maybe there was a double door up ahead, but it was hard to tell because there were a whole bunch of doors floating and warping and overlapping each other. She blinked like a nearsighted owl hoping to bring them into proper focus, but that just made the door vortex spin in two directions at once. Still, that was probably where she was headed, she supposed, so she stumbled toward them. All twelve of them.

Bridget grinned, feeling her big tits jiggle in her too-small bra and feeling her too-short skirt riding ever further up her ass as she weaved her way forward. Thank god her best friend Ying had helped her get rid of that frumpy blouse and those stupid black pumps. She needed to get some gold metallic spike heels and generally sex up her wardrobe ASAP. Having big tits and a great ass and being drunk as shit weren’t going to be enough if she wanted her male colleagues to respect her professionalism and fuck her all day long every day, which she most certainly did, because there was nothing better than getting roundly fucked by a bunch of horny guys… unless it was getting roundly fucked by a bunch of horny guys while you were drunk as shit.

“Ooop,” she yelped as she stumbled, tripping over a padded bench, and fell to her knees. She giggled. No problem. She’d just crawl the rest of the way. There were actually professional advantages to crawling. For one thing, it would make it easier for her new male colleagues to fuck her from behind like a wild dog, which would both increase workplace efficiency and prove that she was a team player. For a moment Bridget considered just waiting there until one of her new male colleagues happened along and fucked her from behind because she was eager to be a good girl and get fucked by her male colleagues and prove to them that she was a team player who was eager to get drunk as shit and fuck them. But then she remembered that she had to do something important, so she kept crawling. The carpet, she noticed, was amazingly plush and soft, almost like it had extra padding, almost like they expected that there would be drunk girls falling on the floor all the time. That was the sign of a terrific employer: they anticipated the needs of their employees.