The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Dimat Paloka arrived at his new employment in the wee hours, long before his contract required him to be there. He wanted to see the operation as a customer and not as an employee. He knew there would be a difference. The front doors opened at his approach and the first thing he saw was the reception desk. The lady at the desk greeted him in a professional manner. He noted she appeared fresh and pleasant, despite the hour, and her greeting was the same. Once he had identified himself she gave him his pass card. He was impressed it was ready at this hour.

His pass card enabled him to enter the elevators and to travel to whichever floor he wished. He took himself to the middle of the standard floors where he exited then had a walk round the corridors. There was nobody about but the maids cleaning the area. Each maid he talked to was civil and polite. This was good as these people were not expected to deal with guests.

All seemed well there, so he returned to the elevators and rose to the middle of the millionaire’s area. Again, as he exited he saw a corridor occupied only by hotel maids—a lot more of them than on the standard floor he had just visited. And they all looked identical. This time, as soon as he appeared in the corridor, each maid turned to face him and dropped a curtsey. There were maids, as in the general public area, who were doing general cleaning duties. Also, each door had a maid standing outside, at attention with their hands were at right angles to their arms. He asked some general questions of a randomly selected set of maids. Each maid curtseyed before answering.

It was still early, so Mr. Paloka went up to the center floor of the billionaires’ area. This was much the same as the millionaires’ area. Their apartments were naturally larger and there seemed to be twice as many maids here. It wasn’t until he actually stopped and asked a question of a maid that he noticed the difference between the millionaires’ and billionaires’ maids. He instantly realized that was why there were a lot more maids here. Otherwise they behaved the same, curtseying when he came into view, curtseying when he stopped them and curtseying each time he asked a question.

He quickly wandered through the various function rooms, restaurants, snack bars, meeting rooms and meeting places of all kinds. They weren’t named by their function but by seemingly random names—Baphomet, Lightning Bolt, Obelisk, Distorted Cross, El Diablo, Hidden Eye, Hidden Hand, Cracked Mirror, Compass and Square, Monarch Butterfly, Owl, Skull and many more he didn’t know about yet.

Despite being mostly empty, there was a full complement of maids in each room. Each table, if there were tables, had an under-the-table maid, one for each chair. Every time he entered, all the maids turned to him and curtseyed in unison. Under-the-table maids kowtowed to him in unison.

However, he discovered The Distorted Cross was still going strong and was a bar by the looks of it. He entered and stood by the back wall as there weren’t any free seats. Surveying the bar he watched the people being happy. A crossdresser singer was lip-synching some hit song he didn’t recognize, the dance floor was full, men were sitting at the bar nuzzling women standing next to them, two girls were dancing in the aisle close enough to each other to stimulate each other through their nipples. Pretty young women were circulating through the crowds approaching newcomers and initiating conversations with them. The noise was too loud for him to overhear what they said until a voice in his ear said, “What are you here for?”

He jumped. And turned to see one of those self-same women had approached him asked him one of the questions he was wondering about.

“Just looking,” he answered with a smile, looking her up and down.

“Like what you see?”

“Yes.”

“Why don’t I get you a drink and we’ll talk more? Or maybe dance? Or perhaps you want to skip that and go to your room?” She leaned close to him as she spoke in order to be heard and to hook him with her perfume, which was powerful. He felt his trousers tenting. He wondered exactly what was in that perfume. She smiled at him.

“No thanks. Look, you’re obviously doing your job but I’m not here for that. I just want to look around and see what’s happening.”

Her smile broadened. “OK. But do you want anything at all? I mean we have men if that’s your preference. Or full T girls. Or, well, anything in between.”

He smiled again, but was wondering if this was a hard sell. “Absolutely nothing, thank you,” was all he replied.

She smiled, gave him a peck on his cheek and wandered off. He wasn’t bothered again.

He was impressed.