The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Darla was ugly crying in public. She was trying her best not to sob audibly but it wasn’t going well. She was also attempting, half-blind, to conserve tissues because she didn’t want to end up snorking on her sleeve. The conservation efforts also seemed doomed.

“Fuck!” she said. It came out as “fuuucksnort!” She half laughed, choked, and sobbed again.

“Wow,” someone said. “What a mess. I think you’re kind of hot though, under all the tears and snot. Stop crying so I can get a good look at you, okay?”

Darla was so surprised she actually did stop crying. The woman who had seated herself at the table was compact and pretty. She was wearing a half-shirt that looked a size too small. Also apparently no bra; her nipples were quite visible.

The woman noticed her looking at the nipples and positively smirked. “That’s better,” she said. “You’re feeling better, I can tell. I’m Navi. What’s your name?”

Darla cleared her throat. She was feeling better, though she wasn’t sure why. “I…” she said. “I’m sorry, I’m not really in the mood for company. I should probably get back to work.” She started to try to collect up the damp landslide of crumpled tissue from the café table. There were too many. She flapped at them ineffectually. She felt like she was going to cry again.

Navi clicked her tongue. “Don’t be a recalcitrant bitch. You’ll annoy me, and you won’t like that. Sit down, tell me your name. Talking to me will make you feel a lot better.” She grinned. “Looking at my tits will help too. I noticed you liked that.”

Darla sat down with another half-choke and a whoosh. She felt decidedly dizzy. She was pretty sure the woman—Navi?—couldn’t have just said what she thought she said. She looked at her tits; the nipples were even harder if that was possible. She felt somewhat better looking at them.

“I…you couldn’t have said what I thought you said? About looking…” Darla trailed off. “My name’s Darla,” she said. She put her hand out, then realized it was still clutching a bunch of damp tissues. “Uh, sorry, oh god,” she said. She thought she would start crying but she giggled instead. She wasn’t sure why. She felt a lot better.

“That’s right,” Navi said. “Treat me like an old friend. You feel like I’m your best friend! Tell me all about it and you’ll feel so much better.”

Darla smiled for the first time. It was weird to have a stranger suddenly feel like her best friend, but it felt good. “It’s just my job. My internship,” she said. “I’ve wanted to work in the fashion industry forever. And I got an amazing opportunity as an assistant to Emily Vanderstutt, the legendary editor of Image.

“But,” Darla said, leaning over. Navi’s eyes slid down to her cleavage in a way she was used to seeing from guys, but less often from her girlfriends. She almost leaned back, but Navi was a friend, and talking to her felt nice.

“But,” she said again, “she is horrible. She sends me out on errands all the time and gets angry if I don’t get her sandwich order perfect. There was an arugala substitution for spinach…she screamed at me for like fifteen minutes. And…she’s constantly criticizing my clothes.

“And my…my…she says I need to lose weight. All the time. She hated this dress”—Darla pointed to her somewhat crumpled scoop neck grey wrap. “She said it was dumpy and I needed something slim and tight. But, when I wear tighter she says I look like a sausage and need to lose…it’s…I’m getting anxiety attacks getting dressed in the morning. I’m going to have to quit. I have to quit. But this is my big break. I…” She trailed off. And smiled. It felt good to talk about it.

Navi smiled too. And looked down her shirt again. “Well, your Ms. Vanderslutt is right that you should wear tighter clothes that show more skin. But she is wrong about you being fat. You are curvy and hot and lush and you should show that off as much as possible. Your tits are really to die for. You should be proud of your body. No anxiety attacks when you look in the mirror anymore. But maybe some nice hot finger fucking sessions.”

Darla felt unstable again. She was very conscious of her breasts and Navi’s eyes on them. It was…making her conscious of her…down there. Her hand fluttered towards…but she squeezed her legs together to stop that, and then again because it felt really good. “Oh,” she said. She paused. “It’s Vanderstutt.”

Navi’s eyes finally came off her chest. “What?” she said.

“You said, um, Vanderslutt,” Darla said. “But that’s not her name. It’s Vanderstutt.” She giggled. “She’d really hate Vanderslutt. She’d probably throw a desk at you if you said that.”

Navi reached out and caressed Darla’s cheek. It was still a little damp. Darla remembered distantly that she’d been crying, though she didn’t feel at all like crying now. She felt a lot better. And kind of horny. Especially when Navi brought her finger to her mouth and licked it slowly and deliberately, keeping eye contact.

“Don’t contradict me, honey. If I say it’s Vanderslutt, it’s Vanderslutt. Okay?”

Darla giggled again. “Okay,” she said. She looked at Navi’s tits. She might as well if Navi was looking at hers. “I really feel better after talking to you, Navi. You’re doing something to me aren’t you? I feel really weird. What are you doing?”

Navi laughed. “I like you and think you’re hot, so I’m going to solve all your problems for you. Doesn’t that sound great?”

“It sounds great,” Darla said. “Only,” she took her eyes off Navi’s cute tits with an effort. “I’m not gay? Or at least, I haven’t been? You’re kind of really turning me on though.”

Navi leaned over and kissed her on the lips. Her tongue was insistent, and her hands were very knowing as they traced across her tight nipples, down the curve of her stomach, down to where her legs were still squeezing tight. She moaned. She was very damp. Not from tears.

Navi’s lips brushed her ears. Her fingers slid over Darla’s panties. Then, skillfully, inside. And inside. “Whether you’re gay or not, I think you’re going to come really hard for your girlfriend now,” she said. “Say you feel better.”

“I feel better!” Darla said. And came really hard for her girlfriend.

“I’m sorry,” Ms. Klute said, not really sounding very sorry at all. “Ms. Vanderstutt is on a very important call, Darla. You can’t go in there now. Probably not for the rest of the afternoon. I have some filing you can do. If you’re up to it.”

Ms. Klute gave a tight, smug thin smile. She was a tight, smug, razor thin woman, and her theoretically feminine powder-blue suit just made her angles look more serrated. In her mid-40s, she had risen to this key administrative assistant position through precise calculation of the nuances of status, and Darla’s status, her appraising look said clearly, was somewhere below that of fanny packs and clogs.

“Oh,” Navi said, “I’m going to enjoy putting this bitch in her place.”

Ms. Klute’s mouth dropped, and then dropped even more when she actually saw Navi, braless half-shirt, last year’s distressed jeans and all. Navi had told Darla not to worry and to enjoy herself, but she still felt nervous. She had learned through brutal experience—and through being misinformed about one vital meeting after another—that Ms. Klute’s ire was not something to be defied lightly.

“Hello,” Ms. Klute said icily. “I don’t believe we’ve met. This floor is for authorized personnel only.” Her eyes narrowed as she noticed the way Navi’s hand was resting possessively on Darla’s rear. “Darla, you know you cannot bring friends in here. I am going to have to inform Ms. Vanderstutt. She is already displeased with your performance. Perhaps you will need to reread the employee manual again…”

“Oh hush,” Navi said. “Shut up.” Ms. Klute’s mouth continued to move for a second before she realized that nothing was coming out. Her pencil thin eyebrows contracted in confusion.

“Better,” Navi said. “Now,” she held up a finger in front of Ms. Klute’s nose. Darla remembered where that finger had just been and wondered if Ms. Klute could smell her. The idea should have been embarrassing but Navi had talked to her about shame and…things. Her breathing picked up.

“Now,” Navi said again. “is Ms. Vanderslutt actually busy? Or are you just being a jerk to Darla? Keep your answer brief and to the point.”

“Yes!” Ms. Klute said. “She’s on an important call with Michelle Ochs. She’s a major designer. Ms. Vanderslutt..stutt can’t be disturbed. Like I said.” Ms. Klute looked like she wanted to say more, but thought better of it.

“Wow,” Darla said. “Michelle Ochs. She really is a big deal, Navi. I wouldn’t want to interrupt that. We can wait…? Or maybe you could come back tomorrow…? I’m sure Ms. Klute could schedule us…” Ms. Klute, still silent was nodding in a vigorous, terrified fashion.

“Darla, hon, don’t be a silly slut, okay? You don’t want to be a silly slut do you?” Her tone was playful, but Darla caught the ominous undertones.

“No! No, I don’t want to be a silly slut.” She paused. “Though watching you dominate Ms. Klute is making me horny.” She paused again. Ms. Klute looked even more horrified if possible. “I don’t know why I said that.”

“Probably because being honest with your friend feels good,” Navi said. “Now listen up both of you. I am going to see Ms. Vanderslutt right away, and if she’s talking to someone important, that just makes it more fun.” She stood up, hands on hips, which did fascinating things to her breasts, from Darla’s perspective.

“I could just tell Ms. Klute to let us in right now, but that’s kind of boring. I think it would be more fun to give her some incentives. Ms. Klute, are you turned on by women? Are you a big old dyke? Again, you can answer, but keep it to the point.”

“I don’t want to tell you that,” Ms. Klute said. “I’m not a dyke. I’m straight.”

“Okay, so you are straight. But there’s always been something about Darla here, hasn’t there? Those big, perfect breasts. That ass. Darla, hon, turn around and hike up that dress so Ms. Klute can see your ass. Oh, yeah, that’s marvelous. Isn’t it, Ms. Klute? It really gets your juices flowing, huh?”

“Uh, I’m…she’s so hot. How are you doing that?”

“Don’t worry about it. It feels too good to worry about. Now, Darla is hot, but what’s even hotter is Darla and Ms. Vanderslutt together. You fantasize about that a lot. You think about Ms. Vanderslutt sucking on those perfect giant tits. Getting her tongue into that perfect ass. You think about Darla spanking that Vander slutt so hard she screams. You dream of it. Right? Tell me.”

“I…I frig myself silly all the time thinking about Darla fucking Ms. Vanderslutt. Oh. Oh that’s…”

“Hey!” Navi said sharply. “No masturbating, Klute, you perv! Hands where I can see them on the desk…there we go. So, you are absolutely obsessed with the idea of Darla and Ms. Vanderslutt fucking. That means anything you can do to get them alone together, anything at all…it’s better than sex. Knowing they’re in the same room at the same time, thinking of them touching. You are desperate for them to be together. You scheme for ways to bring them together. Isn’t that right?”

Ms. Klute was practically hyperventilating. A thin trail of drool was hanging from her mouth.

“I…I don’t want to fuck Ms. Vanderslutt…Vanderstutt, though?” Darla said. “Or Ms. Klute either,” she added after a moment. “I don’t really want to fuck anyone at work. Except maybe you, Navi,” she said hastily.

Klute groaned like a woman whose fondest dream has been squashed. “Now look what you’ve done,” Navi said playfully. “You’ve broken her heart. Do you really not find Ms. Vanderslutt attractive at all? Be honest.”

“Well,” Darla said, “I never really thought about it that much in that way before you made me bi, I guess, but…she’s pretty hot, in a bitchy, intimidating way, I guess?”

Klute made a noise and her body arched in the chair. She collapsed on the desk, panting.

“Did she just cum because I said Vanderslutt…I mean Vanderstutt is hot?” Darla asked.

Navi smiled. “Of course. You can press her buttons like that any time. It’s fun to torment her with her out-of-control fetish for you fucking your boss. Kind of hot too. Why don’t you try it again?”

Darla cleared her throat. Sexual play of any sort with Ms. Klute was not something she had ever thought about as a pleasure, or even a possibility. But teasing her was fun. And kind of hot. She leaned over the desk to deploy her cleavage and tried to make her voice as breathy as possible. “Hi, Julia,” she said. “I wanted to see Ms. Vanderstutt. It’s oh so urgent. If you know what I mean.” She giggled.

Klute whimpered. Without taking her eyes off Darla’s tits, she reached her hand helplessly across the desk. The door to Ms. Vanderstutt’s office buzzed.