The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

One rainy Wednesday afternoon I was alone in the office with Amanda and reading a report she’d typed for me concerning the Malafron corporation holdings. It was due to go out to our stockholders by the end of the week. In the middle of a rather tedious paragraph of figures, there was an unexpurgated piece of sexual fantasy, describing her shattering orgasm as I’d ridden her in the stock cupboard last week. I was shocked! But not too shocked. After all, it had been done at the behest of her subliminal instructions. Still, it made interesting reading and gave me an insight into the way her mind was working. Confused but powerfully charged with sexual addiction I’d say.

“Come here Amanda! What is the meaning of this?” I watched a beetroot red blush cross her face as she read it. “You know I really should have you dismissed “, I said in as stern a tone as I could manage. “What do think would have happened if any of our clients had ever seen this nonsense?”

“Oh. Yes. I... I don’t know how it happened. I’m so sorry. Really I am!”

Amanda looked completely crushed as she shifted from foot to foot and struggled to avoid my gaze. I had to fight not to smile at her obvious discomfort. She was truly ashamed of behaviour she couldn’t understand and was now at a distinct disadvantage. It was time to press my own advantage to take things to the next stage.

“I’m not sure if you really understand the responsibilities of your position”, I continued. “This is an important job and I have to trust you to behave properly. I can’t have your mind wandering into that stickly little slit between your legs when you should be concentrating on your work.”

“N.. no, no, of course not!”

“What am I going to do with you?”

She couldn’t look me in the eye.

“You know what I think”, I said. “I think you need a spanking for this.”

She gave a twitch of shock and looked quickly up before biting her lip and looking at the ground again.

“W.. what?”

“Does you boyfriend not take you over his knee when you’ve been naughty?”

“No! NO!”

“Pity”, I said coldly. “I’m sure it would do you the world of good. Help you to realise the trouble your thoughtlessness can cause for other people. Still, if you’re selfish enough to stand proud of the medicine you deserve, I guess I will have to lose you.”

“W... what do you mean?", she said quietly.

“I mean that, you either accept some just physical chastisement or you’re fired.”

“Oh no. I love this job. I need this job. Please!”

It was highly amusing to hear her parrot back the phrases, which were being planted into her pretty head by Dr. Stebbings techniques.

“Hmmm..", I said, feigning disbelief. “And I thought you liked me from the way you’ve been behaving.”

She blushed again. “Oh I do, I do!”

“Then what’s it to be?”

Amanda was in a complete quandary—oddly stimulated, uncertain, hesitant and a little fearful. I knew that she was wondering if this was some kind of game, along the lines of the Sultan and slave girl scenario we’d played before. But the distinction between fantasy and reality was now blurring strangely. Her mind was in a delicate state of confusion, ready to be broken and remoulded into a form which would suit my purposes! This was no game. I was deadly serious.

“Come here Amanda!” I commanded. She did as she was bidden, looking more like a frightened schoolgirl than the PA of a company chairman. I was inwardly exultant. My lovely victim was going to submit!

“Now bend over my knee. And hurry up, I haven’t got all day!” She swallowed nervously.

“Oh and take your shoes off”, I instructed, on a sudden whim.

She crouched to the floor and unbuckled her strappy sandals, not even questioning why I’d told her to do it, but just grateful, I think for a chance to prologue the moment before she had to drape herself across my lap. The shoes were placed on the desk where I eyed them thoughtfully for a moment, but soon enough I had a more pressing matter to consider. The luscious little blonde had complied with my orders and was properly positioned for her first spanking!

I ran my left hand up the back of Amanda’s legs, savouring the feel of the warm skin beneath the nylon mesh of her flesh-coloured tights. Although many of the pleasures of the girl’s body were now familiar ones, the anticipation of the cruel treatment I was about to administer to it lent a new and dark dimension to the prospect of my later enjoyment. I felt a thrill of power over her, sensing a slight trembling and the shallowness of her breathing. The girl’s skirt was soon pushed up over her hips to expose her bottom and I had time for a leisurely inspection of my target. I’d never contemplated her rump with quite the same concentration before and I was reminded afresh what a splendidly upholstered rear end she possessed—not fat but pleasingly plump and expansive and positively inviting a damn good thrashing. I had yet to bugger my blonde trainee but I promised myself that I’d remedy that omission in the very near future! Her buttocks clenched in an involuntary muscular contraction as I let my hand roam over them, enjoying a good feel of the pliant flesh. I had a clear view of her pretty white panties through the nylon tights and determined that my purposes would be better served if they were wedged more tightly into the crack of her arse before I began. So I ran my index finger firmly into the valley of her buttocks and accompanied only by a tiny mewl of protest, squashed the cotton away from the rounded curves that would soon receive my more painful attentions!

“Now Amanda”, I said in my most patronising voice. “Before I begin, I want you to be absolutely clear why this is happening. You’ve been wantonly careless in your duties and you could have caused me a great deal of embarrassment. You know that don’t you?”

“Y... Yes sir”

“And you know that I could have you dismissed for your offences? And then where would you be? So I’m doing you a big favour by not making this a formal disciplinary matter. I hope you’re grateful. Do you want me to deal with this now? Ask me nicely!”

“Y... yes sir. Please sir. Please spank me sir... Please” Her voice was soft and muffled coming from beneath the falling tresses of her blonde hair, but it sounded sincere enough.

“Very well, then Amanda. Prepare to be properly punished!”

After the gentle fondling which had softened her up, the first blow came as a shock, hard and fast and accompanied by a satisfying crack of flesh on flesh. I followed it up immediately with the second before she had time to draw breath, a broad stoke square on the meaty ripeness which swelled up so invitingly above her thighs. A soft sob came from below which I ignored, pausing only to observe the effect of my hand print emerging as a distinct pink pattern through the nylon of her tights. This also allowed her buttocks to relax slightly, which only made them more vulnerable to my third blow, catching her slightly off guard as it did and landing a little further up. And so the spanking continued, a set of carefully timed strokes that soon had her thoroughly warmed up with a hot little bottom that must have stung smartly. Amanda kept up an irregular low whimpering, just short of crying and squirmed rather delightfully in my lap. I must confess that my cock was soon hardening under the pressure of her body. I’d have to quench it inside her before I was finished! When I finally stopped to catch my breath she’d received a full twenty or more strokes. She made a wriggling move to get up but I stopped her with a firm hand in the small of her back.

“Not yet Amanda. I haven’t finished with you my girl!”

It was now that I picked up one of the shoes she’d placed on the table. It was the left one of a sexy pair of sandals with thin black plastic straps across the toes and looping round the heel. The three-inch stiletto heel was tipped with a silver metal cubical heel. I flexed the sole, testing its resilience. Perfect! The shoe would make an excellent instrument to continue Amanda’s correction and relieve my aching arm. I noticed that her panties had worked their way out of the cleft in her bottom. Once again, the shoe would be useful. This time, I pressed the heel between her buttocks, working it up until her glowing bottom cheeks were fully exposed again, protected only by the thin nylon of her tights. She moaned softly, sensing that her ordeal was by no means over and the worst was yet to come. And she was right. For now I laid into her with a will, wielding the shoe with renewed energy and turning her flesh from pink to a bright fiery red!

It was time for a very important test. For the last week, the conditioning had been adding some new ingredients into Amanda’s brain. If all had gone as planned, then despite the pain of this thrashing, she would also find herself perversely aroused and ready for a thorough fucking. The fingers of my left hand slipped under the waistband of her tights. She gasped as I probed under her panties. She was hot and damp! The latest stage of the program had worked!

“Well, well Amanda”, I said dryly. “Looks like you need a stuffing my girl!”

I pulled her onto the floor and yanked down her tights and panties. Her eyes were wide and she spread her legs without asking. For a moment I contemplated ignoring the invitation and trying out her freshly punished arse instead. I’d been tempted to bugger the girl ever since I’d first seem that pretty bottom of hers naked, and I promised myself that I’d plumb its depths before too long. But perhaps today wasn’t the day for it. She’d had enough new experiences for now so I’d pace myself and take the opportunity to plunder that hole on another occasion. In the mean time a good hard ride inside her made the girl whimper as she felt anew the sensitive skin of her buttocks rubbed firmly back and forth over the carpet by my thrusts. She gasped and gurgled her way through the delightfully mixed pleasure and pain, climaxing just when I did. Later, as I watched my P.A. restore panties, tights, skirt and shoes in a flurry of confusion and strange embarrassment I reflected on what a great success this little episode had been. Amanda had been more thoroughly and completely dominated than ever before and now that I had introduced her to corporal punishment I had little doubt that it would be easy to do so again. A taste of fear had been added to our relationship which would confuse her but aid me in my growing control over her. I wondered what the girl’s boyfriend would make of it when he saw her abused rump! I suspected that Amanda would go to some lengths to avoid revealing it to him, which was no bad thing.

The strident tones of a mobile phone interrupted Sir Peter Killingworth in the middle of his account and brought Richard Mann back to the present. He’d been so absorbed in the story of Amanda’s seduction and abuse that he’d lost track of the time. Now glancing at his watch he noticed that it was nearly half past eleven. The pretty maid was still standing patiently in the corner with her hands on her head, and if Sir Peter was to be believed she’d understood nothing of their talk since she’d been put under the Code Babel protocol. With half an ear, Richard heard Sir Peter chatting with his wife—some inconsequential chitchat about a necklace Vivian had purchased at a fashionably rustic artisan’s shop in the village. He gazed out of the window admiring the play of sunlight on the spreading parkland which stretched up to a sombre beach woodland on the ridge and fell away below the pond on the south side to a small lake screened from the road by hornbeam and oak trees. When Sir Peter ended the call he noted the direction of his guests gaze. “Lovely, isn’t it? I’ll tell you what. I was thinking we’d have a spot of lunch at 1 o’clock, so that gives us time to take a tour of the grounds first. We can take Amanda with us. She needs exercising!” Richard readily agreed to this plan.

“Code Babel off”, Sir Peter said to his maid. “Follow us Amanda. We’re going to the kennels first.”

An expression of mingled anxiety and distress crossed fleetingly over the blonde’s face before she lowered her eyes meekly. Richard was intrigued. He didn’t have to wait long to find out why Amanda was so apprehensive. The businessman and his friend descended the sweeping steps of the main hall and went down a narrow passageway to emerge via a metal door into to a small paved compound. Amanda followed three steps behind, her hands still on her head because she hadn’t been given instructions otherwise. At the back of the enclosure, a row of four cages held three enormous black Doberman pinchers. They growled menacingly but didn’t bark. Amanda seemed to shrink under their single-minded stare.

“Good boys”, Sir Peter said cheerfully. On a hook by the door there was a wide leather collar which the aristocrat now tightened round the trembling blonde’s neck. He fastened a long leash to the metal ring at the back then patted her complacently on the bottom.

“On your knees now bitch. Time for walkies!”

The fearful but compliant blonde was soon on all fours, her short dress tightening round her rump and riding up sufficiently to reveal to Mr. Mann that her bottom was bare. Sir Peter reached down and slipped a finger under her left suspender, pulling it up to straighten the stocking then letting it snap back against the girl’s thigh. Amanda gave a little squeak but kept her head lowered. Now Sir Peter opened the first cage. A muscular bundle of fur, claws and teeth emerged to greet him, jumping with a dangerous energy.

“Down Tyson!", Sir Peter laughed. It took longer to control the dog than it had done to prepare Amanda but at length the two animals were similarly collared and leashed. Growler and Bounder followed and then the party set out, leaving the kennels through a gate that led onto the main gravel driveway. The sharp little stones must have made Amanda’s crawl over to the lawn a painful experience but she continued on her hands and knees struggling to keep up with the fast pace set by Sir Peter. The dogs seemed to regard her as one of their own but a lowly member of the pack who must be kept in line. She was corralled between them as they strained at their leads, rushing ahead and then running back. They seemed to take it in turns to supervise her, menacing the poor blonde with warning growls and even administering occasional little nips where her thigh was bare above the stockings. It was easier when they reached the grass but before they got to the lake Amanda was sobbing softly but audibly.

“She’s well trained”, Richard said.

“Oh yes”, Sir Peter smiled. “Amanda’s come a long way since that first spanking.”

He bent down to pick up a stick and in the same motion unclipped Amanda’s leash.

“Fetch!”

The stick went tumbling through the air and to Richard’s amusement the blonde was soon scurrying after it, keeping to all fours in conformance with her role. She bent to pick it up in her mouth and returned to her master with the stick between her teeth. Sir Peter laughed and ruffled her long hair to show his approval. “Good girl. Now this one!”

For the next fifteen minutes as the men walked round the grounds, Amanda was treated exactly like the dogs. She was expected to follow the men everywhere and was sent to fetch a succession of sticks thrown more or less casually by Sir Peter. For the most part the blonde seemed anxious to please and chased the sticks down as quickly as she could, though her energy did diminish as the walk progressed. She only hesitated once, when the length of spinning wood came to earth in the middle of a clump of fierce looking nettles and brambles. But even there she eventually summoned up the will to plunge into the undergrowth, emerging after a minute in a thoroughly dishevelled state with burs in her hair, and the clear signs of scratches and stings across her arms and unprotected cleavage.

The only comment Sir Peter made as she returned to him was one of mock outrage.

“The bitch has laddered her stockings. I’ve warned her about that before. She really must be more careful. I shall have to punish her later.”

As far as Richard could see there was no way that the unfortunate girl could have fetched that last stick without some tearing and tangling, so her employers attitude seemed grossly unfair at the very least. Richard wondered exactly how Amanda felt about her situation and he studied her closely looking for some sign of resentment or resistance. In the face of all this casual mistreatment it seemed incredible that the hapless blonde could fail to respond without a degree of bitterness. Yet there was absolutely no sign of any such reaction. On the contrary, Amanda displayed only the outward evidence of a nervous anxiety to please and some considerable distress that she had failed to do so. She appeared not only to accept her guilt but to be actively ashamed. The poor girl was clearly subject to some very effective form of mental conditioning. And Richard had to admit that he found the sight of the lovely blonde in her torn maid’s uniform, crawling so humbly before them, highly erotic.

The party proceeded to the top of the lawn where a wooden bench under the shade of the woods behind, overlooked the manor house. Sir Peter tethered all his animals to a hitching post and then he was ready to resume his tale.

Now where were we? Ah yes. I’d reached the point of Amanda’s first spanking. It certainly marked an important change in our relationship and set the right tone for things to come. I felt I’d made it quite clear who was the boss and that there was to be no notion of equality between us. And I must admit I’d enjoyed it too! It was tempting to find other pretexts to spank her, but I knew I had to exercise just a little more patience. The girl was jumpy enough and it was better to menace her with unspoken threats, cultivating an atmosphere of control through consent. In time I knew she would accept my full rights to punish her ripe young bottom whenever I wanted.

I took a trip to London in late July and arranged to have a drink with Dr. Stebbings so that we could discuss Amanda’s case. We met in a small West End pub just off the Kensington high street. The doctor was accompanied by his receptionist, an attractive brunette in her early thirties whom he introduced as Carol and immediately dispatched to the bar to buy our beers. The wench was a pretty little piece of baggage, shorter than Amanda and nicely packaged in a crisp white blouse, a tight black mini skirt, sheer black stockings and shiny black heels. As she stood before the bar the whole pub had a good view of her legs which were pleasingly full, even verging on the plump but without crossing the line into excessive fat. Her breasts were well rounded but not overly large—firm, well separated and beautifully articulated. They’d make a pleasing handful for any man. I had no doubt that the doctor would have wasted little time in taking control over Carol in the same way he had was teaching me to control Amanda. The receptionist had almost certainly been transformed into a rather delightful plaything for her clever boss.

“You’ve made good progress so far”, the doctor said when I’d given him a detailed account of my work with Amanda to date. “Now it’s time to separate your host from her boyfriend. In the same way that you need your sexual freedom with multiple partners, she must be reduced to one. It’s also part of the process of isolating her from society. If she’s going to spend nine months bringing your baby to term then you’ll need her under your full authority and totally cut off from friends and family.”

I could see the sense in the doctor’s advice. Already, I found myself irritated by Amanda’s outside commitments. I’d gone a long way in assuming rights over her body and her time but the remaining limits were still tiresome. I wanted her accessible at weekends and on any evening. The boyfriend would have to go.

“How do you suggest I achieve that?", I asked.

“Do you have details about the boyfriend’s name, address and occupation? She’s not living with him is she?” I confirmed that Amanda lived alone and was able to supply the doctor with the information he required.

“Well then”, he said. “There are two ways you can go about this, the direct and the indirect approach. I suggest you try the direct method first.”

I spoke to Amanda first thing on the following Monday.

“I’ve been thinking Amanda. Our current relationship is awkward isn’t it? There is so much more we could do if you had more freedom.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that our other commitments are inconvenient. I have a busy life and I can’t spare much time for you. Then when I do have a spare weekend and you could be enjoying my company, you aren’t available because of your boyfriend.”

“Well, yes...”

“Now obviously I can’t leave my wife. I have too much to lose. The natural solution is for you to stop seeing Steve.”

“Oh. Well, no. I mean, I can’t do that.”

“Can’t or won’t?", I said coldly.

“But I love him! I mean we’re going to get married and everything!”

She was on the point of tears.

“Yes, but you’re not married yet, are you? And that makes a lot of difference.”

“I don’t see how”, she said, sullen now and pouting in a way that was really rather fetching.

“You’re such a silly girl sometimes aren’t you?", I said with a smile which added a barb to my words rather than taking the sting from them. Amanda looked hurt and blushed in that bright pink shade I had come to associate with her powerful physiological response to shame and embarrassment.

‘Silly girl’ was a key phrase which had been increasing in frequency within the current selection of conditioning messages. Her subconscious recognised and acknowledged it, even as her conscious mind tried to reject it. She bit her lip and I bent over to give her a long lingering kiss. At first she pulled away but when I took her chin in my hand and bent her face firmly towards my own her inadequate resistance quickly crumbled and her tentative response soon became an ardent and passionate one.

“You can’t tell me you don’t like that can you?", I said softly when we were finished.

“No”, she said softly.

“Well then, you’d better do as I say hadn’t you? That’s if you want us to continue. You see if I can’t have you when I want you I may have to abandon you altogether.”

“W... what do you mean?”

She looked alarmed now and well she might! I shrugged.

“It’s just that you’re not the only young woman who wants to spend their time with me. And others might be more accommodating. Something for you to consider perhaps before you refuse me, eh?”

I glanced ostentatiously at my watch.

“Now how about a quick fuck before lunch? Let’s have those tights and panties off pronto Amanda! I’ve got an important meeting in half an hour so I haven’t got time to waste.”

She fumbled anxiously with her clothing as I watched in amusement, aroused this time, almost as much by the alacrity and unthinking obedience of her response as by the lean curves of her pretty little body. I bent her over the desk and entered her with a grunt of satisfaction. I knew I’d given her plenty to think about! How would she respond?

Within two days I decided to start on the doctor’s indirect approach. Amanda was showing an unhealthy resistance to my demands. Her boyfriend was an anchor, aiding her in keeping some form of independence from my rightful influence. Despite all the pressures of her conditioning regime she sensed this subconsciously and stubbornly ignored my demands. When questioned she was evasive and vague. I didn’t press it. Another way would have to be found. I rang Dr. Stebbings to confirm our plan and Carol was given her instructions. An interesting little play of events was about to unfold.

Unfortunately I am unable to furnish you with the complete and intimate details of the process by which Amanda was finally separated from Steve because I was only a peripherally involved myself. I left the whole thing to Dr. Stebbings and his sexy minion. All I can tell you is that after a mere three weeks Carol and her controller had achieved the desired result! The lucky lad was made the target of a carefully planned seduction and enjoyed several healthy bouts of rumpy pumpy with the doctor’s luscious receptionist. These were designed to wean him away from Amanda’s charms and confuse him about where his loyalties lay. Carol persuaded Steve to take an “eye test” at her bosses office and once there the game became much easier. He was subtly prepared for a shock and some subliminal ideas were planted suggesting what he ought to do about it. Carol delivered the shock at the moment when the doctor judged best. She showed him some of my photos of his girlfriend in very compromising positions. In short order Amanda was dumped by her horrified partner, happy in the knowledge that his own sexual interests were being well looked after. Judging by the outburst of tears which I witnessed next day it must have been a traumatic scene for my blonde P.A. Apparently the hypocritical lad had accused her of being an unfaithful slut and refused to have anything more to do with her! It was the perfect outcome.

I took the sobbing girl in my arms, stroking her hair and trying hard not to smile. Everything was going to plan. From now on I knew that Amanda would be almost totally dependent on my good will. Success was very close. It wouldn’t be long now before this hot little piece of stuffing could be put to the proper use my wife and I required!