The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“How do you like the waiting room? Angie designed it herself you know.”

“Angie?”

“Our little assistant out there. God-send really. I haven’t come in to see the same drink twice. She always has one.” Anu Gestured vividly at her desk. Anu Kaur, she insisted Mark call her by her first name and to be friendly with her. “Right here waiting for me. Every morning, without fail. And every morning, it’s different. Now, not every one’s a winner of course, but I like that she experiments. It’s fun and more often than not she has an uncanny way of getting the mood exactly right. You have no idea what an unexpected pleasure she has turned out to be.”

“It sounds lovely. She designed it herself you said?” A drink every morning? It sounded borderline alcoholic. There was no evidence of ill-effects though. Her posture was stately and her dress immaculate. It molded itself onto her body effortlessly and held tight, like a tribe around their sacred mountain. At least in her forties, the only exposed parts of her were agile limbs of confidence and strength. The office was surprisingly well kept. Colorful see-though plastic cubbyholes held pencils, tape, sharpies, calculator, a roll of paper towels, and assorted vibrators.

“Pours her heart into that room.” Anu clutched her breast as she said it. It was brown and tipped with dark chocolate aureola. Mark wasn’t really sure if he should be staring or not, she didn’t seem to mind either way. “Built it up piece by piece over the last few years. Probably spent more on it than her own house, the poor thing.”

Mark just nodded. Not really sure what say. The room was overdone, a boozy den of superficial extravagance neither the company nor ‘Angie’ could likely afford. “It’s quite nice. She takes care of it well.” She didn’t. As Mark had entered the office, Angie had been getting absolutely hammered from behind. Braced against a wall with one hand, the other clutching a half-spent handle by the neck. Trails of loose cum wound down her legs and to the floor. All around them, toughened dudes were nutting onto sofas of giggling women. There would be a crust before the day was done.

Thankfully the noise of it was blocked out. Mrs. Kaur’s office was well-insulated, the door so thick it probably stopped bullets and rubber stoppers on the floor that squished shut behind it. Even the air was cleaner here. It breezed in and out on a silky tide of lemon zest. Brisk, like each breath were served on the rocks in a nice refreshing slide. Just talking to her was making Mark a little lightheaded. He blinked slowly through some vertigo. His erection obvious in his dress pants. Who knows who she’s slept with. How many times. How willingly. Everyday. Right now.

Mark Planted himself firmly on his seat and blood slowly filled in like a backed up drain. The allure of it was terrifying and real. He could just take her. Why not? His libido thrummed. Why not just leap over this desk and absolutely wreck her? She would love it. The previous occupant hadn’t stopped squirting as Mark tip-toed the whole way across the room. She had just sort of fallen out, swingingly drunkenly outward with the door knob, giggling uncontrollably. Her other hand scrubbed breathlessly at her glistening pussy.

Anu’s hands were dry though, strangely. Her clothes were surprisingly seamed. Someone had hemmed them. They weren’t just synthetic micro-fiber mold-pressed in a brick of fifty. She seemed calm and reliable, if a little bit flirty. Unfuckingbelievable body. Healthy teardrop tits, incredible ass and a lovely smile. But that was all. She wasn’t Jodie. Mark didn’t want to be with her, he just. . . you know, wanted to bang the shit out of her. Even his stomach growled in agreement, suddenly the extra pep of a second mug of coffee didn’t seem worth it anymore.

“Is that a . . . perfume of some sort? It’s nice.” It was more than nice. It was cloying and tricky. The air wanted to be smelled, peeling up into the nose like an intrepid climber. Mark’s body wrestled to fuck and fight at the same time.

“Yes, I suppose you’ll have to forgive me. I’m just so incredibly fuckable, right? Ever since my marriage I just sort of have that effect on people. For whatever reason people just like to cum around me. It can be quite a hassle really. It’s why good personal assistants like Angie out there are so invaluable to us. Anyway, let’s take a look at your resume – you can masturbate if you like.”

“Okay.” Mark dimly undid his trousers. Wait. Did I just agree to that? “I mean, no, that’s unnecessary—”.

“No really, it’s fine. Everyone does it. You can cum on me if you like.” Mark did like. Mark did like very much. Her dusky skin, his opalescent glue. They would go great together.

“Okay.” Mark slid his pants around his ankles dreamily, his prong fiercely erect under his shorts. It was steaming red and aggravated. Pleasure lanced through his body in electric waves, gathering at a single insistent core. Mark couldn’t see past the next ten seconds without touching it. Mrs. Kaur was so nice to let him get off on her. So nice. WAIT! JODIE!

The thought of her smashed into his gut. Mark reached out and braced himself on the desk, panting. He had been so close. So close. This was dangerous. There was something else about this woman. Something unsafe and now he was stuck juggling nitroglycerine.

“At your last position it says here that you completed a new inventory management software – Oh.” Noticing Mark bent over the front of her desk. “Already? Well aren’t you eager. Which side would you like to get me on?” Anu sashayed her face at him, showing off her high cheekbones. “Or would you just like to surprise me?”

“No! No, I can’t. I . . . I want that side.”

“Ahh, the right. It’s been popular today. Just warn me when you’re ready. So it says here that you actually designed the new internal tracking system for a local retailer?”

It was Mark’s pride and joy. It wasn’t complex, had more bugs than teeth, an ugly step-child of a mediocre education and not particularly exceptional genius—but goddamn if it didn’t track packages. That and it didn’t look like raw code thinly concealed behind a DOS operating system. The company had last put in place a computer system sometime in the late eighties, it wasn’t exactly hard to improve upon. Still, Mark loved getting to prove himself and it was something real. He made it. It was his. Something he-

Mark’s thinking lurched painfully. “Shit, here it cums!” When did I get up on this desk? Somehow he was standing over her, both feet planted on top of her desk, furiously tugging himself at her face. Mark’s orgasm roared out of him from somewhere deep in his chest, an animal cry of pure satisfaction. He burst, curling his toes. Mark had never cum so hard or far in his entire life. Anu was raked and dripping with five clean lines of cum running down her face. Running. . . literally running. It was racing down her face. It was like dropping water on a hot skillet or watching grease slide effortlessly across a smooth surface. It just sort of slid off. She shivered lightly feeling the cum on her, her blush moved Mark deeply.

It was a good ten seconds or so before Mark could stop cumming. It felt so fucking good. Each spurt flooded his mind with insane pleasure. An intense chemical joy forcing him helplessly over impossible crests of ecstasy. His spray washed over face again and again, never leaving a trace. In just one or two dabs with a nearby hanky the whole mess was cleaned away, even the lines that got in her hair.

“My that was a gusher! What do you say we do the next one with my tits?” She sucked needfully on her fingers as her other hand was already unlacing her top. “So why don’t you tell me about this program of yours while I get my pillow?” It was one of these hydrophobic orthopedic things, it looked really comfortable. Mark’s dick still hung in the air, still stinging and hard. Unfinished.

There was a yoga mat on the floor Anu was already circling around the desk towards. She laid down so simply, elegantly folding onto the floor. The bottom of her dress a shadowed opening with two clean smooth legs delicately poking out, gracefully tucked beneath her. Her top undone, her two light olive breasts clung tenaciously to her chest. She patted the top of her sternum. I’ve got to get out of here. I don’t care about the job anymore, this shit is crazy. Just turn around and walk out the door. Mark wobbled weakly off the desk. You can get a job with . . . just call up your- you know . . . and . . . job.

“Yes, the program. What ergonomics did for office equipment, modern Human Factors oriented software can do for your systems. Modern software design can take into account biometric facts about the affordances of human perceptions, reducing the cost of training new employees with the system. A recent NPR article suggested that less than half of retail level employees are barely literate with the computer systems they regularly interact with.”

It was well rehearsed. Mark was only somewhat conscious of what he was saying. The physical operation of his parts move automatically, creating the words and sounds without any cognitive burden. His mouth just spouted what came naturally. Shot it out. One word after another. It felt so nice between her tits. Two mushy globes squashed along his length, Jodie never really responded when he wanted to play with her boobs. Like most women, their sensitivity had been much exaggerated – at least to his boyish mauling. But this, this was great. The just maneuvered over him so so greatly.

He was saying something. Anu was saying something. Her mouth inching closer, her bright sloe lips teasing there way forward. Inching slowly towards Mark’s protruding head. Jodie never, never would let him – JODIE!

The air burned with enchanted fragrance, invisible seconds ago. This close to her, straddling her chest, trusting into her generous bosom it was almost toxic. A suffocating acrid candle wax that melted straight into Mark’s overheated brain. Mark grabbed a handful of her sombre black hair and pushed her forehead into the mat, keeping her lips from his member. When Mark came it blew onto her surprised face angry and hateful. Each shot strain out of him leaving a burning trail of heated joy. Each ragged, gasping push propelling him higher, past the clouds. His vision blurry, a ringing in his ears and a sweat that beaded down his chest. He was vaguely glad she had asked him to take off his shirt.

She patiently waited for him to remove his hand, his strands already washing off from the corners of his lips. “Very bold. I can’t say anyone’s quite given me that treatment in a while. A little rough for my tastes but I love how forward you are.”

Mark’s mind swirled with thoughts of Jodie. How close he had come to giving in. How tantalizingly close he had come. She wouldn’t be proud and was already editing his story if he ever told her.

“I must say I’m impressed. I just have one last question for you before we can wrap this up.”

“Yes. . . anything”. The spiral of her attraction was beginning to close in again. Shutting down his thoughts, his memories of all those other places that weren’t warm and wet and welcoming.

“What is my personal assistant’s name?”

“What?” It could be ambrosia for all he cared. This close to her was like being drip fed a potent glowing lifeforce in which each moment was agony waiting for the next drop to plop safely on his outstretched tongue. And she wanted to talk about what?

“Her name. What is my personal assistant’s name?”

Mark felt a little surreal, his knees on either side of her, riding the rise and fall of her chest. He could her the analogue clock on the wall spinning. What was her name?

“ . . . who?”

Anu rolled her eyes. “My assistant. You’ve met her. I know it must be hard to concentrate this close to me but try to remember. What. Is. Her. Name?”

A assembly line of naked bodies trotted past Mark’s memory, each less distinct than the last. With a puff, Mark had to concede. “I don’t know.”

“It’s Angie.” She looked disappointed. Mark’s gut’s crunched together. It was so hard to think, thoughts pasted rough and granule like rude motorists.

“Angie, right. We didn’t get to talking much—”

“Of course. Well, did you meet anyone today? Perhaps one of the other interviewees.”

Mark’s memory reeled backwards, army crawling on its hands and knees through the day’s carnage.

“Sure, there was the -umm. The uhhh. The. . .” The unhelpful receptionist that couldn’t be bothered in the lobby. The shreeching woman in the elevator, with the slidy pink things. The man in the elevator, the German, the cat lady, the drink . . . girl. They all came together in jagged faceless illusions, just out of reach.

“. . . Brandy?”

“Oh yes? What does she do?” Mrs. Kaur waited patiently beneath him. Mark opened his mouth, nothing came out of it.

Anu sighed beneath him and patted his ankle to signal it was time to get up. “It’s not all about making money you know. This is a family business with good community values. Sure we like to turn a profit and we’re more than a little competitive. You have to be to stay alive in this game. But we’re not all about the bottom line here.”

“Frankly I’m not convinced you’re a good fit here. That thing about Angie isn’t just trivia. Not remembering the name of someone speaks to your character.”

“Forgive me, I was—”

“Mark, or rather Mr. Avry, it is the nature of my position that I must say unfortunate things. I do not like to say them, but they must be said. I do not think that I have a position here for you today.”

The words should have hit like a punch to the gut. Instead there was. . . nothing. There were no knots in his stomach. No butterflies tickling his insides or walloping haymaker ready to jump out of his fists. A great drab echoing nothing suffocated them both. Time didn’t slow down and life didn’t seem all that extraordinary. The enormity of how much Mark didn’t feel anything was almost too much to bear.

“I’m quite happy to keep your resume on file. We’re a big company and growing. There are new positions opening up everyday.” Mark just sat glumly in his chair. She continued. “Chin up, eh? You’re not wrong you know. We do need people with a good head on their shoulders. I adore the community that we’ve built up here, but you’re absolutely right. It doesn’t really work if I can’t keep the lights on or the servers up. It’s just. . . that’s not really what I’m looking for in this position. I need someone who can liaison with other departments and that requires a certain degree of diplomacy above and beyond coding. I hope you can appreciate the honesty.”

Mark nodded, not meeting her eyes. Staring at the desk, at his future puddling on the floor.

“Well, I think that’s it then.” Mrs. Kaur said standing. “Perhaps I can offer you a squirt before you go?” She offered, turning that fine lacquered ass his way again. Perfectly formed brown mounds of grabbable butt. She smelled of mouth watering curry, of grilled onions and mushrooms friend in oil. Her thighs separated in a toned gap that pointed to salvation. Mark pressed at it with his hand, felt it sturdy but yielding, like warm dough or the silky bristles of peach fuzz. He only just caught himself still nodding, agreeably dismissed.