The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

She woke up and got ready to go to work, like any day.

It was Thursday, could have been any day, but it was Thursday.

She had some vague plans for the weekend, she might get together with some friends and Alan in accounting was making some noise about getting together, but she mostly just wanted to be done with the Jenkins account. She and the team had crunched and recrunched numbers on this one and it was turning out to be the bear she thought it would be. At least they were making progress and she wasn’t going to have to work this weekend.

She worked in an agency, doing ad sales for trade magazines. She had to be aware of what she wore; they wanted classic business wear; at least she could wear pants. It was a typical March day in San Francisco, and she put on a dark blue pant suit and a silk blouse.

She took the train to the financial district and walked to the TransAmerica pyramid, where her company had its offices. Her promotion last year had moved her into an office, and even tho it faced the city and not the bay, just having natural light was worth it.

To look at her, you might not even notice her. She had short black hair, blue eyes, and she perhaps had a nice body, but who would notice beneath the trench coat. She had gone to Cal, and decided to stay in the Bay Area; she’d changed jobs once since she left college, a lateral move that did leave her with more room for advancement.

She was a little jealous of her married friends, not for any of their husbands in particular, but she was a little lonely and always going out with her friends was starting to get old. She had been warned that there were no single strait men in San Francisco, but she was now starting to believe it.

On her way into the elevator, she bumped into a man on his way out. He knocked her over, as she wasn’t paying much attention and he was a lot stronger than she thought at first glance. She was already thinking about the problems that cropped up yesterday and the trip she’d have to make to finalize the deal.

The man helped her up and his gaze caught her; made her almost gasp. He seemed to peer right into her soul.

“It was a pleasure to meet you.” he said. “Our next meeting won’t be so brief.”

She couldn’t tear her eyes away from him until he left the building. She walked into the elevator still in a daze, people looking at her out of the corner of their eyes.

By the time she reached her floor she had put the incident out of her mind. Who she had to call, when, what she needed to do before the meeting all competed for space.

It wasn’t until halfway through the morning that she realized the encounter with the man in the elevator was still with her. She could feel his eyes still, penetrating her, capturing her, consuming her. This scared her, and she couldn’t place what else it made her feel. She noticed her e-mail icon was blinking, so she double-clicked and found she had a new message.

She didn’t recognize the address, but she knew the company’s firewall kept out spam, so she opened the message. It read that she was supposed to save the attachment to her hard drive, then open it in Internet Explorer.

She did so without question, saving the attachment on her hard drive and then opening IE. She found where she had put it and opened the file.

It was a swirl pattern, neon green, purple, red, blue. It began moving as she opened it.

She stood transfixed.

The pattern had stopped but it took her a minute to regain her composure. She quickly checked her watch, realized only a minute had passed. And had to head off to her meeting.

The day progressed; the event forgotten, until she caught a look at herself in the mirror in the ladies room on her way out. She stopped and stared at her reflection, her mind racing. She suddenly felt so empty, so lost.

Then it was over.

She met some friends for dinner then headed home. As she was leaving, Sarah mentioned how quiet she had been and asked if everything was going ok? As Halle started to tell her, she heard her voice say that everything was fine, but that she had met someone and was just a little infatuated.

Sarah smiled and touched her on the shoulder, while Halle had to stop herself from turning to see who said those words. Sarah said that she hoped Halle wouldn’t keep Mr Wonderful to herself and said goodbye, promising to call to make plans for dinner soon.

What the hell was going on she wondered. It was starting to become dark, so she hailed a cab. One stopped and she gave the driver directions home.

She picked up her mail and was sorting through it as she listened to her messages. It wasn’t until she was almost in the kitchen that she noticed the flower arrangement sitting on her table. She opened the card attached, which simply said I enjoyed our meeting today. I know you did also. I look forward to our next meeting.

What is this? Am I losing my mind?

She ran to her bedroom and started crying. A part of her realized this wasn’t her by any stretch of the imagination. She wasn’t a crier, she wasn’t a helpless little girl. This buoyed her and she stopped crying, trying to look at the situation rationally.

As she tried to review her day, she couldn’t put her finger on what it was that happened. She remembered the meeting, the dinner, some other work-related happenings, and she had some idea she had said something that surprised Sarah, but couldn’t remember what it was.

She took off her jacket and pants, then went to the bathroom to take her contacts out. Padding around in her knee-high socks, shirt hanging down, she passed by a mirror on the way to the bathroom. She took her contacts out and headed back into the bedroom to put on some sweats. As she passed the mirror, she stopped and looked again.

She saw herself, but it wasn’t her. Not the her she knew now. Her hair was longer, she was dressed for work, she thought, but was now wearing a red jacket and matching short skirt, with a slit. White shirt with two buttons undone. She knew, just knew, those had to be stockings with a garter, and she wasn’t aware that she had any shoes like those.

In a flash the image was gone, but not its power. She’d never imagined herself like that. She looked at herself and was immediately depressed. She knew that image went to the gym and went to boutiques to shop and went to salons for her hair, feet, and hands.

She went to the bedroom and took off her shirt, looking at her chest. It seemed so disappointing; a part of her screamed, what the hell am I thinking. Who cares about this stuff.

III

She woke up knowing she didn’t sleep well. She couldn’t remember her dreams, but did remember she tossed and turned violently, almost struggling.

She went to the kitchen and passed the flowers, with the mysterious card. This morning she only picked it up and glanced at it, on the table just sitting there where she had left it. Proceeding into the kitchen, she poured some orange juice and sliced a bagel.

Her face full of bagel, she went back to the bedroom to pick out her clothes and get ready for work. Her contacts were in the bathroom, and as she passed the mirror she stopped for a moment, then asked herself why she stopped, what she was hoping to find.

Friday meant casual unless a meeting, so she pulled on her jeans, then her bra. As she held up the bra, it again seemed to inadequate. She’d gotten it at Macy’s or somewhere, she remembered, but it seemed so plan, so boring. She finished getting dressed and picked up the paper on her way out.

She was bummed; she was tired; all she wanted to do already was go back to bed. What had been a good mood earlier had been wiped out by her musings on her bra.

Work proceeded unspectacularly. The day did seem to be moving slowly, and she was glad it was lunch, halfway to going home. She had hid in her office most of the day, only leaving when she had to.

Clutching her salad, she was in the hallway when Alan from accounting called her name. This was the last person she wanted to see right now, as she did kind of like him but was in no mood to want to go out at this point.

“So Halle, how are you? You haven’t replied to my e-mails. I was wondering if we could get together this weekend?”

“Why don’t we see Dangerous Beauty at the Kabuki, 7:30 show,” she heard herself say very confidently. Her right hand reached out and touched him on the chest. “I’ll meet you there,” she said and let her hand drop down his shirt, just barely touching the fabric as she pulled her hand away. She smiled at him as she turned and went down the hall to her office.

She almost screamed as she shut the door to her office behind her.

The day ended, thankfully, without further event. She was even more tired by the time she trudged off the train and walked home. Her mail box was full, mostly bills and ‘have-you-seen-me’ mail, but a couple catalogs, Ann Taylor, Eddie Bauer. She paged through them as the elevator took her up.

She was so tired. It was all she could do to take her clothes off, put sweats on, and heat up some pasta she’d made earlier in the week. She slumped on the couch and turned on the tv, glad at least she had cable.

She ate unenthusiastically. Watched a lot of tv, did some light reading, then was ready for bed a couple hours later.

She put on a flannel night shirt and dragged herself to the bathroom. It was so hard to stay awake. She brushed her teeth, washed her face, then was ready to leave.

When she passed in the mirror, there it was again. It was her, same red jacket, same short skirt with a slit, black silk shirt this time. Her hair again was longer than it was, maybe it had been permed. This time she was wearing thi-highs that were nearly nude.

As she stared at the image of herself, she noticed a twinkle in her eyes. The twinkle became a light, then it continued to grow, forming a pattern. She recognized it as the same swirl pattern she had seen in the e-mail. She couldn’t tear herself away from it. The voice inside of her tried to scream, but that part of her psyche was quickly quieted by another voice from deep inside. One she couldn’t quite place and she couldn’t understand the words, but it sounded so good and soothing.

She realized she was standing in front of the mirror in her bathroom.

IV

She woke again clutching at her dreams; she felt better, at least until she walked past the mirror on the bathroom door. She couldn’t even face it for fear of what it might show.

Her feelings of being out of shape and unattractive led her to call a couple of nearby gyms to get their schedules. Pinnacle had the widest variety of classes, so she put on her bike shorts, a sports bra, and t-shirt, threw sweats on over them and headed down to the gym.

She felt rusty but got into the class as it went along. She needed to build her stamina, no doubt, but it felt so good to sweat, to move to the music, even if the routines basically hadn’t changed since she last took classes.

In the locker room after class, she was getting in the shower when she noticed the instructor come into the locker room. She was an athletic blond and Halle imagined she rollerbladed from place to place. Halle went into the shower and let the water run over her already sore muscles, trying to work the lactic acid out of them. The instructor stepped into the showers.

Halle noticed her when she did. Her legs looked better out of the shorts then they did in them. She had also let her hair down, and Halle could imagine this woman had men at her beck and call, even when she just walked down the street.

Halle was drying off, and beginning the hair care process when she saw the instructor, Gail, in the mirror. Gail was still in the shower, but there was somebody with her. A woman with short black hair in a very stylish cut was running her hands down along Gail’s wet body, the shower water running over them. This woman knelt in front of Gail and began, it looked like to Halle, giving her oral sex. On her knees in the shower? Halle couldn’t believe it, who would do such a thing, and why was the woman on her knees now clasping her hands behind her back? From Gail’s expression, she was enjoying the treatment. Then her eyes closed and she shuddered. The woman at her knees pulled back from her and turned her body towards the mirror, letting Halle see herself smiling, seemingly pleased at having pleasured this wonderful woman.

V

It wasn’t until 6:30 that she remembered she had a date with Alan at 7:30. She finished eating and went to her closet, pulling out a long denim skirt and a white blouse. She took off her bra and went rumaging through her drawer for another one.

When the now familiar sensation of depression hit her, she made up her mind that it was just a signal for her to do some shopping.

She’d decided she enjoyed the aerobics class and that gym, so she had signed up after class. Halle realized after she got home that if she was going to work out regularly and improve her body, she needed some new work-out clothes. Since she was going to get some new exercise clothes, why not get some new bras and panties.

Still, she didn’t feel quite right slipping on her usual flats. She wished she had something with some flair, that would make her legs look nice and feminine.

Resigned with her current wardrobe, she caught a cab to the Kabuki.

They settled in to watch the movie, but Halle wasn’t watching the same film everyone else was. Shortly after the curtains opened and the lights went down for the previews, the patterns started up.

The voice, that soothing voice, was louder this time. It started softly, then grew in volume inside her head, she still couldn’t make out individual words, it was more a sensation. The patterns on the screen slowly dissolved to an image of her, wearing the red suit, with a man she seemed to recognize but couldn’t place. They stopped and he was putting his hands all over her body, through her hair, over her breasts, which seemed to jut out now, then he slowly began lifting her skirt as she raised her hands above her head...then the image was that of the movie starting.

She blinked, the whole scenario had only taken a few minutes, Alan hadn’t noticed anything apparently. She turned to look at him, and suddenly she felt...confusion, arousal, all directed at Alan. She felt like she was bursting, she was so hot she could feel the sweat running down her forehead. She didn’t know what to do, so she got up and excused herself, or tried to, falling in his lap, just inches from his cock, she stared at it briefly before she was able to get up and run to the ladies room.

She found an unoccupied stall, let her skirt fall to her ankles, pulled her panties down and put her fingers inside her. She felt it build and build, then nothing. It was so frustrating, she felt all this desire and she couldn’t cum.

VI

Alan was there waiting outside the woman’s room for her. The look of concern on his face was so sweet, but she had to get home. She knew she looked like hell, so she told Alan that the fish she had for dinner must have been bad and asked if he would call a cab for her.

Later in bed, she still felt frustrated, nothing, not her vibrator, not a cucumber, nothing had done it for her. She finally drifted off, exhausted more than anything.

She woke early and went to the bathroom. When she came back into her bedroom, she noticed the room smelled of sex and sweat. Her sheets were twisted and tied, and she now realized that she was naked.

She thought that she must have finally cum during the night and that it must have been some dream. Since she was up and felt good, she decided against going back to bed but put some clothes on and made some coffee.

She remembered she had promised herself she could go shopping today, looking for some things to wear at the gym. It was a little early to go out, so she ran a bath and read the Sunday Examiner.

As she was luxuriating, she caught herself looking at her pussy hair. She wondered how it would feel bare. She did the best she could, but realized she needed to see someone who did this all the time.

Still, she was happy with how it had gone. She kept looking at herself in the mirror, it looked good, so sexy she thought.

Her shopping plan had been to go to the Speedo shop, but she ended up at Body Options instead. She found a couple of bodysuits, one in lace, and some thongs and shorts. She was looking at the bras, but something told her to hold off.

On her way out, she saw the Victoria’s Secret down the escalator and across the walk. She remembered she was tired of wearing her t-shirts to bed and thought she deserved to have something nicer. She walked in and found a silky camisole, in black. She also got some silky panties, imagining how the silk would feel against her now bare skin. Again, she looked at the bras, but decided to wait.

It was a long line, a register was down or something, so one of the store clerks was handing each person in line a catalog to page through until they reached the front of the line. Halle, like everyone, got the catalog, but she never really gave it much thought, thinking she doubted she looked like Yasmeen or Stephanie Seymour or wanted to look like them. But now she did look through it, when she turned the page in the middle of the book and there it was. Her eyes lit up and she almost yelled.

The red suit. Now she knew (she thought) where she’d seen it before. It was on sale, she couldn’t wait to get home and order it. The rest of the time in line passed quickly, occupied as she was by the image of herself in that suit.

She practically ran to the phone as she got home. She called their home office, listened to the sexy voice of the VS operator and was quickly transferred to someone who could take her order.

“Hi this is Halle W—. I’ve got the Winter City catalog, and I want to order the suit on page—.”

“Oh yes, Miss W, we’ve been expecting your order. Now what size would you like...”

She thought that was odd, but it passed her as she noticed it was a different flower arrangement on her table, with a new card. She completed the order, decided on second-day delivery, and hung up.

“Halle, I am very pleased by your progress so far. Soon you will know arousal, submission, and fulfillment as you have never known.”

VII

She didn’t give much thought to the meaning of the card, she was too excited about trying on her new clothes. She pulled out the familiar pink and white striped bad first. She pulled out the camisole and the panties and some bras.

‘What are these?’ she thought. I don’t remember buying these. They seemed big, she checked the size, they all said 36D. She was a 32C. The bras felt so silky, so satiny, hmm, she took off her shirt and bra and put a leopard-print one against her chest.

It felt so good. She sighed, again, and began to wonder what it would be like to be able to fill these bras. She turned to view herself in profile, imagining her chest proudly. She’d never considered it before, always automatically dismissing it when she heard of friends getting implants, trying to talk them out of it, talking about what could and couldn’t be done, etc.

She wondered if she really did want them. Then she hit upon the solution. She took her datebook out and turned to the coming Thursday. She wrote “If still want BI, make appt.”

She called Alan and apologized again for last night. He was gracious, if disappointed. She spent the rest of her day cleaning and getting ready for the week to come. She didn’t know how unprepared she was.

VII

She went back to aerobics class Tuesday after work. The class felt good, but it felt even better to be standing in front of Gail, watching her, thinking about her.

In the locker room after class, Halle was the last one out, hoping Gail would stop in. She had almost given up when Gail came through the door; she saw Halle and went over to talk with her.

They talked for a minute or so, or rather Gail talked and Halle did all she could to keep her eyes level with Gail’s. When the conversation was winding down, she snapped out of it long enough to hear Gail ask if she wanted to get a drink after class on Thursday. Her heart lept and she almost hugged Gail. Gail said she’d see her on Thursday.

Halle started planning her outfit for Thursday on her way home. It was perfect for her new suit, but then she realized she didn’t have the right shoes for it. She thought that she would have to stop after work to get some shoes to go with it.

Wednesday worked dragged. She couldn’t stop thinking about Gail and about their date. She caught herself more than once imagining what she tasted like, what her lips were like. She went to the Embarcadero Center after work and stopped in at Enzo Angelini. She got herself a pair of shoes and a pair of boots. She left there and picked out some hoisery and a garter belt and stockings at Victoria’s.

She tried on the whole ensemble once she got home. Standing in front of the mirror, she felt so sexy. The image in front of her seemed to sway and the now familiar swirl pattern emerged.

She was more conscious this time, more aware of the voice, more aware that she was being altered, that what she had wanted wasn’t as important, that these new feelings would bring changes, important changes. Changes she would embrace.

She awoke in the morning. Thursday morning. She was wearing her new camisole. Her suit had been hung up with care. She just noticed these things, she didn’t question them. Just like she didn’t question that she was going to call a plastic surgeon to have her breasts enlarged or that she was going to have her first lesbian encounter later on that night.

Or that her Master was waiting for her.