The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Dorothy made one last automatic adjustment to her jacket and skirt, and gave the doorbell a firm push, clutching her slim purse in her other hand. From somewhere on the other side of the door, a bell rang, low and sonorous. After a long pause, the one of the solid oak doors noiselessly opened, revealing a stocky, wooden-faced man in a butler’s uniform.

The blonde woman on the doorstep unleashed a quick professional smile of medium intensity.

“Hello. I’m Dorothy Danvers, with Insight Magazine. I’m here to interview Mr. Chibroso. I have an appointment.”

The butler eyed her expressionlessly for a second, then spoke, his cultured voice a good match for the bell.

“Yes, Ms. Danvers. Mr. Chibroso has been expecting you.” He opened the door wider and gestured. “This way, if you please.”

She followed him into the front hall of the mansion, her blue eyes taking in every detail as she strode confidently across the floor. The chamber was made of white, gold-streaked, marble, with a wide, elaborate, staircase that swirled up to a second level. An enormous crystal chandelier hung overhead. The butler noiselessly led her across the room, a black dot amidst the searing brightness of the marble. Passing through one of several open doorways that led off of the hall, she realized they were in a wood-paneled elevator. Her taciturn guide pushed one of the many buttons on the control panel with a white-gloved hand. Two wooden doors slid smoothly shut behind them, and the car started rumbling slowly downward. Dorothy looked at the black-haired man beside her and smiled again. Before attacking the main subject, there was always time to do a little quick probing with the smaller fish..

“And you are?”

A glance.

“My name is Willikins, Ms. Danvers.”

“So, Willikins, what’s it like working for the famous Ernest Chibroso?”

The butler briefly repeated the his stare from the front door before replying.

“It has proven to be a most interesting experience, Ms. Danvers.” As he spoke the words, he looked about as interested and stimulated as a week-dead carp.

“Maybe you can tell me the secret to his phenomenal success in the music business. The whole world is dying to know, you know.”

“I’m sure I couldn’t say, Ms. Danvers. Mr. Chibroso generally does not choose to consult me on matters of art or corporate finance.” The car abruptly ground to a halt, and the doors popped open, revealing a long carpeted hallway. Throbbing music could be heard wafting down the hall from some nearby point. As they stepped out of the elevator, she pressed her point.

“So what does he consult you on?”

“The smooth and efficient running of his home.” He paused verbally, but they continued down the hall. “Why else would a man like Mr. Chibroso talk to his butler?” There was no venom in the statement that she could detect. If anything, he sounded proud...

They reached a door from behind which the music thumped. Willikins opened it without knocking and gestured for her to enter.

“Mr. Chibroso is inside, Ms. Danvers. He is, as you said, expecting you.”

She stepped into the darkened chamber, the music building around her...

Willikins sat stiffly in a chair in the servants quarters, giving the day’s Financial Times a methodical perusal and taking an occasional sip from the cup of tea that sat on a low table beside him. A steady trickle of maids dressed in skimpy black and white uniforms bustled quietly in and out, curtsying as they passed by him. He ignored them.

The sleek black phone beside him suddenly gave off a peremptory buzz. Willikins carefully lowered the newspaper, and picked up the receiver. As he did so, an unreadable expression flickered quickly across his face, coming and going so fast as to be almost unobservable.

“Sir?”

“Willikins, Ms. Danvers is ready to leave now. Please come and escort her to the front door.” Mr. Chibroso’s thick drawl sounded pleased.

“Yes, sir.” The line went dead, and Willikins stoically replaced the receiver. He stood up, and folded up the paper back into a tight meticulous slab before positioning it in the seat of his chair. He walked regally out of the room, and made his way back towards the main hall, smoothly pulling his gloves back on as he did so. (One would think the Times would have found a way to keep their newsprint from smearing by now... No one had a sense of priorities in the world anymore...)

Into the elevator, and slowly back down into the basement. The door popped open, and he walked down the hallway to the door of the ‘interview room’. He opened the door again, and Ms. Danvers was already there, waiting in the patch of white light by the door. The rest of the room was plunged into darkness and silence. She gave him a slightly distracted smile, and stepped out into the hallway, so they were walking side by side. He gave a slight bow,

“Ms. Danvers.”

They returned to the elevator in silence. He pushed the up button and once again the doors closed. The car started up, both of them looking straight ahead, neither speaking. Suddenly Dorothy came to life, moving as if a switch had suddenly been thrown somewhere. She reached over and pushed one of the buttons on the control panel. The elevator ground to a reluctant halt. In the resulting silence, she turned and faced Willikins, and smiled widely, showing a set of blindingly white teeth. She was suddenly flushed, almost panting. She licked her lips and spoke huskily. As she did so, she unbuttoned her jacket and let it slide to the floor.

“Mr. Chibroso assigned me to give you your bonus this week, Willikins.”

“Ms. Danvers?” Willikins somehow made the two words into a resigned question.

Dorothy pulled her blouse off over her head, revealing her fine bare breasts, the nipples pointed sharply outward.

She dropped to her knees, and reached for the zipper of Willikins’ trousers.

Willikins glanced morosely at the staring video camera mounted in an inconspicuous corner of the elevator. He’d never made a rude gesture in his life, but during situations like this, his employer seemed determined to alter this fact.

His attention was distracted as Dorothy’s lips and tongue went enthusiastically to work. She moaned through her mouthful of hardening flesh, but he stood silently, his only reaction his flushing face.

It didn’t take long.

They stepped from the elevator, back into glare of the main entrance hall. The interview was in the bag, so Dorothy no longer spared much thought towards the man leading her back to the door. She casually glanced over at... what had he said his name was... Willikins... and did a double-take. Under the man’s stony demeanor, she saw he was strongly flushed, as if he’d just... well... had sex or something. She repressed a smirk. The cold ones on the surface. They always turned out to be fiery, passionate, ones underneath it all. Pity he was only a butler... he was almost handsome in a way. Might be interesting to try and crack that resolve. She knew a few tricks that whatever silly little chambermaid he was getting it off with had never even dreamed about..

But she dismissed the train of thought from her mind as she said good-bye and stepped out the door, back into the sunshine. She had an interview to write up. A very important interview; the most important of her career. She ran a distracted hand through her mass of sweaty, tangled, hair. Already the words were forming in her mind, almost as if someone had burned them into place.

She hurried back to her car.

His duties finished for the day, Willikins retired to his apartment at the usual hour. As always, the maids were lined up at attention by his door, eagerly waiting for him to choose from among them his slave for the night. As he usually did on Tuesdays, he picked Lucinda, and dismissed the others.

They entered his apartment. Lucinda immediately stripped off her uniform and busied herself making his dinner, her dark eyes shining with eagerness. Willikins began undressing as well, though a great deal less frantically, slipping finally into a simple robe. He carefully deposited the pieces of his uniform in the laundry hamper near his bed. He could have tossed the various components around willy-nilly, and Lucinda would have cheerfully ‘fetched’ each and every garment in her teeth like an obedient retriever before cleaning and ironing them.

But it was, as always, the principle of the thing.

He flicked on the small television that Mr. Chibroso had forced on him last Christmas. It was still on the ‘in-mansion’ channel; Ms. Danvers’ ‘interview’ was already airing in a continuous loop. Like all of the rest before her, the blonde reporter on the videotape stood in the middle of the ‘interview room’, naked and sweaty, her stance that of a puppet held up by invisible strings. The multi-colored lights flashed and strobed across her gyrating body, they and throbbing, overwhelming, music burning their message of total surrender and obedience into the deepest pathways of her mind. From this day forward, Mr. Chibroso had another loyal ‘critic’ in the media, and with a favorable review in Insight Magazine, his latest record would no doubt be a smash best-seller.

Like all of the rest.

Then Mr. Chibroso stepped into the scene, smiling his kilowatt grin, the sexuality rolling off his hairy, twisted body in greasy waves. Ms. Danvers saw him, and her eyes lit up like stars, flaming with desire. Willikins shook his head and changed the channel to CNN. He never could understand why his employer liked watching others perform sex so much. It smacked too much of cheap pornography. And besides, Lucinda would be in shortly with his expertly-prepared dinner, and her firm... young... eager... body.

Yes, being employed by Mr. Chibroso was very interesting.