The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Kirsty was bored. Sitting in on what should have been a good night out, taking care of her cold-ridden nephew, while his parents went to dinner at her favourite restaurant was not her idea of a good time. At last the little brat had fallen asleep in his bed, finally killing off his endless whining for more food, drink, medicine, attention . . .

Perhaps, she thought, I’m just being uncharitable—he is only nine after all. She wondered if she’d been as obnoxious at that age, and couldn’t remember. It struck her as sad that a lot of her childhood was lost to memory—she’d grown up too quickly, and, at 24, was now married to her job. Although she was seeing Mark at the moment, she knew it wouldn’t last. Kirsty loved what she did too much, and men just didn’t like sharing her with a hi-rise office block. The secondary fact that men tend to be scared of women in positions of power drove a lot of attention away. She didn’t look like a board member of a quickly growing multinational computer firm—her features were far too innocent. A shapely 5′ 7″ figure with 36D breasts was undeniably attractive, but wide, soft, dark brown eyes and almost waist-length jet-black hair tumbling off her round face with its full lips gave her an air of vulnerability. She was gorgeous beyond a shadow of a doubt, but boyfriends just wanted to protect her that bit too much. Much as Mark was starting to do now, she mused. Kirsty gave the relationship three months, tops, and was startled to find herself treating her personal life in the same way she’d treat a business deal at work—cold and calculating. Jesus, I’ve gotta wind down, she decided.

Flicking on the TV gave little relief—at 9 in the evening all you get to see is news on non-satellite channels. Kirsty started channel hopping.

“Tensions are mounting in the Middle East as more armed troops are sent to . . .”

“Scientists have christened the new hypnotic wonder drug Bliss . . .”

“The Dow Jones rose a 14 points against the American Dollar . . .”

“Generally cold with stormy patches off the East Coast . . .”

A small voice with exaggerated illness built in called down the stairs.

“Auntie Kirsty? I’m bored.”

She sighed and flipped off the set, not knowing exactly how close she was going to come into contact with one of those news stories.

Melissa almost gasped with relief as she swung the sign round so that “Closed” was pointing out at the world. Running a massage parlor is a tricky business at the best of times. She decided you could probably pigeonhole every single customer into one of about four different types;

1. Those who thought she was a whore.
2. Arrogant sods who needed to assert a little power over someone.
3. Upper class idiots to whom massage was a way of advertising how much money they had.
4. People who were actually pleasant.

She felt that category four got all of a fifth of her clients today, and wished she could give a nice relaxing all-over massage to herself. Oh, for an extra pair of hands she thought, and smiled wryly. And not necessarily mine either, she added mentally. Turning round, she caught sight of herself in the mirror. She looked as bad as she felt—tension was all written over her pretty face. Her blue eyes, normally so alive and full of sparkle looked dull. The mischievous smile that normally roamed her red lips had gone and her long blonde hair had lost its bounce and shine. Her shoulders were slumped, and she straightened up—at 5′6″ she didn’t want to go around looking all hunched up, even if no one else was around. Her 35C breasts stuck out naturally as she moved, almost raising a grin from her. At least one part of her hadn’t been flattened. The 23 year-old decided that a nice hot bath was exactly what she needed. She set the water running and looked over her appointments for the following week. Her gaze settled on the following day’s date, and she realised that she was meeting up with the executives of some big firm for a stress counselling session. Melissa’s lips made a pout—executive stress! What did they know about stress? She shut the book with a snap, and got ready for her bath.

The next day was a scorcher. Shading her eyes against the glare of the sun, Melissa stared up at the building with awe. It was enormous, bigger than any other skyscraper she’d ever seen. Putting her fascination on one side, she showed her ID to the doorman, and within seconds was riding an elevator up to the heavens.

She’d done a few of these meetings before, so this should be fairly easy. Dealing with the non-existent problems of executives wasn’t terribly difficult. Melissa had a healthy scepticism about the pressures of board work, and it was only reinforced by some of the whinges she received from the overpaid board members. Having seen them all individually, she checked off their names on her list and found one remaining, a Miss K Williams. She’s probably forgotten, thought Melissa, and walked off down the corridor, checking the nameplates on the office doors as she went. She finally reached Kirsty’s office at the end of the floor, and stood and listened for a second. Someone was definitely in, judging from the raised voice. She knocked slightly, and, getting no response, softly walked in through the door.

Kirsty was having a heated discussion on the phone.

“I don’t care how much he . . . no, of course that’s not what I’m saying . . . look, why don’t you just . . . no, don’t hang up . . . damn!”

Kirsty sat and covered her face with her hands. There was a moment’s silence.

“Shit”, she quietly announced to the world, through her fingers. She hadn’t seen or heard Melissa’s entrance, sitting as she was, facing the window, and had been concentrating too much on the problems at the other end of the phone line, so it came as quite a surprise when a husky voice said

“It can be sometimes.”

Kirsty looked up, momentarily caught off guard, and straightened herself up, brushing away the start of angry tears.

“Oh, hi, um . . . who are you?” she asked, regaining something of her composure.

“My name’s Melissa. I’m the stress counselor. I was meant to see you this afternoon, remember?” replied Melissa, waggling her ID gently at Kirsty, and smiling at her.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I just got caught up in my work, you know how it is.” Kirsty paused to try and gather herself together. “Look, I know I’m meant to see you and everything, but can you just tick me off anyway? I’ve got such a lot to do.” she said, gesturing at the piles of paperwork on her desk. At any other time, Melissa would have been only too pleased to agree, tick her off, and get the hell out. Only . . .

“I’m sorry, but I’ve got to spend a little time with you. If the firm found out, I could get fired for not doing my job.” said Melissa with a look of regret. Kirsty looked around wildly, trying to cook up some excuse to get her out of it, while Melissa was quite startled at what she’d just said. Against all her instincts, she wanted to spend some time with Kirsty, and try and help her out with whatever problem she obviously had right now. Why do I want to do that? she wondered. It goes against everything I’ve ever learnt about this sort of high-flyer. It must just be because she obviously does actually do a lot of work. Yeah, that must be it . . .

Melissa never thought that there might be another reason that she would want to spend time with Kirsty.

“Look, you’re obviously a bit busy now. What if you come back to my business after work and we’ll do it then? Then you get some time on your hands, and I can do my job.”

Relief crossed Kirsty’s features.

“That’s a good idea. What’s the address?”

Melissa told her how to get to the massage parlor, and they arranged to meet at seven. Exchanging “see you later”s, Melissa walked out of the door. As she left, Kirsty was already punching numbers on the phone trying to repair whatever damage had been done.

Melissa walked down the corridor trying to work out why she was so absurdly pleased that she would be seeing Kirsty again later that evening.

At about ten past seven, the doorbell rang. When Melissa opened the door, Kirsty was standing there looking tired and dejected.

“Hi there Miss Williams. Like to come in?”

The formality brought a smile to Kirsty’s lips.

“Kirsty. Please.” Kirsty stepped through the door and looked around. “Oh. I thought, I mean, uh, I didn’t know you were a masseuse as well. I’m sorry I don’t even know your name.” Kirsty realized that she was babbling slightly and stopped. Melissa looked at her with an impish smile.

“I’m Melissa, and yes, I do massage as well. Come on in and sit down. Care for a coffee or anything?”

“No, I’m fine thanks.”

“Really? I don’t think you are. You certainly didn’t sound it earlier on.”

This comment surprised both girls. Kirsty because she’d been caught off guard twice in one day, and Melissa because she was never normally as direct as that. What the hell am I doing, she asked herself, trying to flirt with her?

Kirsty cleared her throat.

“Yes, you’re right, I just lost a major deal that could cost the company badly. I tried so hard its just that . . .”

Kirsty broke down and the tears finally arrived. Melissa sat for a second slightly uncertain as to what to do. Normally if this happened, she just told them to relax and take their time, but following a strange impulse, she walked over to Kirsty and wrapped both arms around her, rocking her gently, and telling her that everything was OK. Kirsty gradually calmed down, but Melissa didn’t want to let go for some reason. Holding Kirsty like this just felt warm and right. However, she released her hold, and sat back, brushing a stray lock of hair out of Kirsty’s face.

“Like to tell me about it, honey?”

“OK . . .”

Melissa sat and listened as the story poured out. About how she couldn’t form a lasting relationship with any man. About how her job was taking over her whole life. About how she couldn’t settle down. About the need to be at the top, and prove to herself that she could cope. About how stressed she felt all the time. As Kirsty’s voice finally settled down, Melissa looked at her, a wild idea forming in her mind.

“I think that you should come and see me on a regular basis,” said Melissa. Kirsty could only nod silently, drying her eyes on a piece of tissue. “But there is something that we can do right now, if you want.”

“What’s that?” Kirsty asked. Without replying Melissa took her by the hand and gently led her through to the back room. There was the massage table dominating the centre of the room, with a shower cubicle to one side, and all of Melissa’s assorted massage paraphernalia on a table at the back. Kirsty stopped as the meaning became clear.

“Oh, no, I can’t really do this, I haven’t got the time, I . . .”

Melissa interrupted quietly.

“That’s one of the reasons you’re feeling so bad all the time. You need to take some time out for you.” Kirsty fell silent, obviously tempted. “There’s a screen over there you can get changed behind,” said Melissa briskly, making up Kirsty’s mind for her. “You should have a quick shower first. There’s a basket here to put your clothes in. When you come out, there’s a towel on the rail. I’ll warm up the table and some oil.” Kirsty nodded, now obviously quite taken with the idea of massage, and walked across to the screen.

Melissa busied herself preparing the table and oils. She shut both sets of curtains, effectively sealing the room from prying eyes, and turned on the overhead light. She was warming the oil in her palms before she bothered asking herself exactly why she was doing this. She didn’t know just yet, but certainly wanted to make Kirsty feel better about herself. Melissa watched as Kirsty emerged from behind the screen with a towel around her.

“On here?” asked Kirsty indicating the table.

“Yep. You can put the towel down on top of it as well, if you want. Face down please.”

“I’ve never had this done before,” said Kirsty with a grin.

“Never? You’re in for a treat then.”

Kirsty lay face down on the table with the towel around her, and let the ends drop. She was naked apart from a pair of black panties. As Melissa moved up behind Kirsty to apply the oil, her eye took in Kirsty’s fantastic body. Her ass was just the right size, and she had a figure most girls would kill for. As Melissa put her palms on Kirsty’s back to begin, she elicited a small squeak of pleasure from the girl lying down.

“Nice?” asked Melissa, wondering how she could be so pleased to get that reaction.

“Mmm. Very,” replied Kirsty happily.

Melissa continued with the massage, moving up Kirsty’s back to rub her shoulders then down her arms, all the time admiring Kirsty’s body, her skin and looks. Kirsty’s eyes were closed, her breathing was steady and regular, and Melissa guessed that she had drifted off into that semihypnotic state that a lot of her clients fell into when she massaged them. She paused a second to look at the beautiful girl’s serene features, her heart beating faster. Melissa didn’t dare to ask to remove Kirsty’s underwear, so she started with her thighs and moved down Kirsty’s legs, finishing with her feet. Normally, she would have stopped there, but Melissa wanted to carry on, so she started with Kirsty’s back again. Her gaze roved over Kirsty’s black panties again, and she longed to be able to remove them. Then she caught up with what she was thinking, and the idea hit her like an express train. Oh my god, she thought, I’m attracted to another girl!

Melissa was so shocked that she nearly stopped the massage, but Kirsty stirred slightly and mumbled something, so Melissa hastily went back to work, her head whirling. I’ve never felt this way about any girl before, she cried silently. I’m not a lesbian! Oh yes you are, said another voice in her head rather sharply. Just look at her lying there half-naked. Don’t you just want to turn her over and make love to her? You want to bury your tongue in her cunt, and lick her till she cums.

Melissa’s hands started shaking, thinking these strange and alien thoughts, but the voice inside her head was right. And now that she realized that, she began to ache with desire for Kirsty. Melissa leaned over the table at just the right angle to put pressure on her clit, and began to rock forward, using the motion the massage Kirsty, and rub her clit against the top. Melissa didn’t realize how turned on she was, and the table provided some relief, but she needed an orgasm desperately. She badly wanted Kirsty’s tongue inside her, exploring her wet pussy, and torturing her until her cum spattered over Kirsty’s face. And inside her head she finally accepted that it was true.

“Wakey, wakey,” called Melissa, hoping that she could disguise the shake in her voice.

“Umm . . .my god that was wonderful,” said Kirsty, snapping out of it. She stretched her shoulders “Oh yes, that’s great.”

Melissa mentally begged Kirsty to walk over and kiss her, but shyly, Kirsty wrapped the towel around herself, and stood up.

“I don’t know how to thank you.” said Kirsty. I do, said the voice in Melissa’s head, but outwardly she heard her voice say,

“Oh, it was nothing.” She then added, “But you must come to see me again. I think there’s a lot of work we need to do together.”

“OK. When do you want to see me?”

Melissa walked over to her appointment book, hoping Kirsty wouldn’t notice her shaking hands.

“How about . . . Next Tuesday? At seven?”

“Alright.” Melissa filled in the appointment, as Kirsty got dressed behind the screen, and handed her a slip of paper with a reminder on it.

“Thanks. I’ll see you Tuesday, then?” Kirsty smiled, turned and walked out.

Melissa locked the door behind her, then leaned against the wall breathing heavily. She turned and walked back to the massage room. She sat down on the table. Just thinking of Kirsty made her hot. She felt her pussy juice up, and quickly stripped off, lying on her back on the table. Her mind was full of visions of her and the women that she badly needed to make love to. She took up a bottle of massage oil and poured some into her hands, warming it quickly. She rubbed the oil slowly into her heaving breasts, gasping with pleasure as she did so. Her right hand strayed down her body, and found her clit, gently rubbing it with her fingers, and moaning as it sent waves of pleasure through her body. All the time she was thinking of Kirsty’s hands doing this, Kirsty’s tongue teasing her into ecstasy, of plunging her tongue deeply inside Kirsty and tasting her sticky juices. She felt her orgasm building up and pushed the oil bottle deeply inside herself, gasping with pleasure as she id so. Slowly she moved it in and out of herself, building up speed and crying out as the sensations became too strong to bare. All it took was picturing Kirsty’s face between her legs, her tongue tormenting Melissa’s clit, to make her cum so hard that she screamed. Her orgasm seemed to go on forever. It was a full two minutes before Melissa could stand to work the bottle loose from her sopping cunt. It was dripping with her juices, and she hungrily licked them up, cleaning the bottle of herself. She lay there, gasping for a while, before turning her thoughts back to herself. This desire for Kirsty was agonizing, but she didn’t know enough about her. Was Kirsty a lesbian? It didn’t look like it. She had a boyfriend didn’t she? And even if she were gay, would she be interested in Melissa, who had only just found out about her feelings for other women herself? Melissa also wanted to help Kirsty in any way she could, and still felt sorry for her.

An idea unfurled in Melissa’s mind, shocking her with its deviousness. She pushed it away, but it kept coming back, until, finally she gave into it. She MUST have Kirsty, one way or another. Ten minutes later, she was dressed and out of the house, heading towards one of her ex-boyfriends flat.