The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Ann stuffed another batch of paperwork into the open drawer, and again looked around her new office with mingled annoyance and pleasure. Ever since that cretin Miller had been promoted (..the Peter Principle in action once again..), the entire department had been forced to play ‘office tag’— everyone being bumped around. That strange little geek Jenkins had left this office, and moved down the hall. And here she was. It was slightly better than the one she had just vacated: a little larger, and with a partial view of the skyline and the water beyond, but still, moving all of her stuff was a real pain.. All part of the climb up the old corporate ladder..

She pulled open the central desk drawer, in preparation for dumping in her collection of office supplies from the stained cardboard box in which they currently resided. She paused. Laying far back in the corner of the drawer was an audio tape, locked up in the standard small, hinged, plastic case. The dark-haired woman pulled it out and looked at it for a moment. It was unlabelled. She shrugged and set it aside. She’d give it back to Jenkins the next time she couldn’t avoid going into his office...

It was while positioning her tape player in a prominent place on the lowest of the book shelves that she started to wonder. Jenkins wasn’t the type to listen to music, (or do anything fun or even remotely interesting that she’d ever seen) so what was on that tape? It totally wasn’t any of her business.. but.. it wouldn’t hurt.. just for a second.. just to see what it was.. She popped the tape out of its case. One side was labelled ‘A’, so she inserted it that way. She pushed play expectantly, but nothing happened. After a moment, she gave a self-conscious laugh. Her brown eyes darting around the empty office in embarrassment, Ann bent over and plugged in the player, which immediately started up. There was still nothing, although now it was a soft, fuzzy, nothing... Or..

She cocked her head and listened more intently. For a second there, she thought she had heard something amidst the low, steady, wash of sound that poured out of the small speakers on the player.

But no. Silliness. She must have been imagining it. She reached out, hesitated for a moment, then jabbed down on the tape player’s ‘stop’ button, which clicked decisively. The sound cut off, and she turned back to her sorting and organizing, wondering why she’d bothered to listen to the stupid thing in the first place. She’d remember to give it back to Jenkins later. Staring down at the piles of paperwork still spread out before her, Ann squirmed inside her white blouse, suddenly having the strangest feeling that someone was standing right behind her, staring unblinkingly at the exposed back of her neck. Down between her shoulder-blades, just above her bra-strap, something itched, like... She spun around in her chair.

There was no one there, of course. Just the black-matted tape-player, sitting blandly on the shelf. Ann gave a snort, shook her head, and returned once again to her work.

When quitting time finally rolled around, she gratefully packed up her personal possessions, and stuffed all the remaining paperwork in one of the drawers. Getting up to retrieve her coat, her eyes once again fell on the tape player. Again she hesitated for a moment, then punched the eject button. The small tape door flopped open like the jaw of an idiot, and she extracted the half-played tape from within. Slipped it into its white plastic case, and stuck both in her purse.

Instead of dropping it off with Jenkins, she took it home with her.

Evening, after dinner. Her slender body snugly cocooned in worn bathrobe and pink fuzzy slippers, Ann dropped the tape into the proper slot in her stereo and punched play on the tape-deck, feeling only a slight spasm of guilt. Once again, out came that bland, steady, hiss. She listened for a minute. It was actually rather soothing. Thinking about it objectively, she couldn’t see how even Jenkins could possibly object to her listening to this. She’d just listen to it once, and give it back to him tomorrow. He’d never know she listened to it... She shrugged, and left it running, going to retrieve the half-finished paperback that lay on the nearby coffee-table. She settled down to read.

It was suddenly hard to concentrate. She couldn’t get comfortable, wiggling around in the armchair, which was as worn and broken-in as the bathrobe. No position seemed comfortable, even her usual favorite: ‘sideways in the chair, legs dangling over one arm’.

Until she tried sitting up straight. This was much better. The more she straightened her spine, the better she felt.

But the collapsed armchair, trooper that it was, just wasn’t equipped to handle this posture. Finally, with a delicate grunt of frustration, Ann got to her feet, and stalked out to the kitchen, with its small table and two hard wooden chairs. She flipped on the bright overhead lights and sat down in the chair. Much better. Resting the bottom edge of the book’s spine and her forearms on the table, she started reading again.

And, almost immediately, squirming again. She sighed exaggerately at herself, and looked at the ceiling. What was wrong now?

Oh, yes. How silly of her. She couldn’t properly hear the tape from in here. Sighing again, she rose to her feet, abandoning the book on the table. It took a few minutes of hunting, but she finally found the beat-up portable tape player she sometimes used when she went out to the park for a picnic or something. It had been her office tape player until she’d gotten the new one.. She hauled it out, found the that batteries had died since last being used, and went on another search for the power cord that had come with unit. All the time the tape hissed in the background. Finally, she set the portable unit on the table, carefully positioning it exactly in the middle of the available space. Ran the cord to the outlet by the coffee machine, and plugged it in. Back out to the living room to get the tape. As in the office, her finger hesitated for a long moment before pushing the stop button. The apartment suddenly seemed empty.. hollow.. flat.. without the sound. Ann hurriedly ejected the tape, and slopped back into the kitchen. Tape into the player, push play.

Hissss. Soft, warm, hissing filling the kitchen.

Much better. She sat down in the chair with a tired sigh. Yes, it sounded so much better this way. More intimate, more cozy, somehow, than with the stereo. Now she could get some real reading done at last. Reaching for the book, she stared at one of the unit’s two small speakers.

She drummed her fingers on the book’s slick cover, feeling the title’s raised letters under her fingertips, and stared the speaker.

Abruptly, the tape player clicked off. Ann blinked sharply, and looked suspiciously at the machine sitting on the table before her. Had it finally given up the electronic ghost?

Still sitting very straight in the chair, she slipped the tape out and looked at it with concern. No, it had just run to the end of the tape and stopped. Odd. She must have started the tape in the middle. She flipped it over, and reinserted it. Pushed the play button. More hissing. Lovely, soft, hissing.. Now where was that stupid book..

Click. Something had to be wrong this time. Again she removed the tape. No, it had just reached the end again. It must be a shorter tape than she remembered. She’d just listen to the first side again. She flipped it over once again, and re-inserted. Pushed play. Hiss.

Click. Without really thinking about it this time, she pulled the tape out, flipped it, reinserted it. Play.

Click. Eject. Flip. Reinsert. Play.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Ann blinked again, and looked around. Bright sunlight was starting to stream in through the kitchen windows. Morning already. Time to go to work. Yes. She rose somewhat stiffly to her feet, the events of the previous night already blurring and fuzzing out in her mind as she rose out of a deep, restful, sleep. Still feeling rather unfocused, she wandered slowly into the bedroom to get dressed, puzzling over the strange dream she’d just had, a dream filled with a soft, pleasant, hissing noise.. Maybe she’d had a dream about snakes, but in her book, the word ‘snake’ seldom if ever equalled ‘pleasant’...

As she stripped off her bathrobe and got ready to take a shower, a horrible realization crept over her. Today, she’d have to give the tape back to Mr. Jenkins. No more stalling. Give it back to him, first thing in the morning. She sighed regretfully. She should have made a copy of it when she had the chance.

Ann approached Mr. Jenkins’ new office with strange reluctance. After a long moment of dithering, she tapped on the door, almost hoping he wasn’t there.

What was the matter with her? It was just Mr. Jenkins...

“Yes?”

“Uh... Mike? Can.. can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Certainly. Come in.”

Ann opened the door and stepped into Mr. Jenkins’ office. He looked up at her from behind his wire-rimmed glasses, his expression the usual one of pre-occupied annoyance.

She took a shaky breath and took a further step into the office.

“Miss Jansworth. What can I do for you?”

“You.. you left this in your old office. When we all moved.” She held out the tape in one rigidly-controlled hand.

“Oh?” He took it from her, and looked at it. “Oh, yes. How careless of me. Thank you.” He studied it like it was dissected biological specimen, and then commented: “Actually, I guess I don’t really need this any more.” With that, he tossed it in the garbage can by his desk. “But thank you again for bringing it to me.”

She didn’t answer, staring at the garbage can fixedly. He had just thrown it away. The lovely, soothing tape. How could he? She should ask him, if he didn’t want it, if she could have it back, listen to it some more.

But then, she’d have to admit that..

“Miss Jansworth?” Mr. Jenkins’ voice snapped her out of her feverish train of thought.

“Y.. yes?”

“Was there anything else?”

“Oh.. no. Sorry, Mike. See you around.” She almost ran from the office.

Ann stood in the hallway, fidgeting. Maybe standing wasn’t the right word. More like..

Lurking. Yes. Lurking in a secluded corner and watching Mr. Jenkins’ office door with the same gaze she had used on the trash can holding the tape.

She’d been here almost all morning. After leaving Mr. Jenkins’ office, she’d gone back to her own, and tried to work. But she couldn’t concentrate- her thoughts kept going back to that damn trash can. She could see it in her mind, the details standing out with quite hideous clarity. The receptacle squatted evilly, like some malignant growth, by Mr. Jenkins’ desk. Slowly digesting the tape that lay inside its gullet.

And locked inside the tape, that lovely hissing. So lovely.

She needed to hear that hissing again.

Needed.

And so here she was. Waiting for that little.. waiting for Mr. Jenkins to leave his office. Just for five minutes. Just for five lousy seconds, before the janitor came by and.. she had to bite back a small scream at the thought.

Finally, the door opened, and Mr. Jenkins stepped into the hall. For one horrible moment she thought he was going to lock the door behind him, but instead he merely closed it and moved briskly off down the hall in the direction of the reception area. Ann breathed a fragmented sigh of relief and ducked out of her hiding place as soon as he was out of sight. No one else was around. She went into the office, being sure to close the door behind her.

The trash can was still there. Why shouldn’t it be? As evil as it was, it couldn’t just get up and walk away... But the tape.. was the tape still there...? Almost panting, she dropped to her knees before it, and started rooting through the discarded papers with both hands, stopping only to push some sweaty strands of hair out of her face. Her usually tightly-corralled hair seemed today to be unraveling for some stupid reason. She gave a little snarl. Stupid hair. Stupid trash can. Stupid papers. Why did Mr. Jenkins have to throw so much away? She started to think that she would chew him out about not recycling this stuff, and then had to stifle a somewhat hysterical bubble of laughter.

After what seemed like an eternity, her scrabbling fingers closed around something small and hard. This time, a little squeak of excitement escaped her throat despite her best efforts at self-control. She pulled the tape out of the can, and staggered to her feet again, clutching her prize to her chest. She turned and once again fled the office, barely remembering to stop and close the door.

Back in her own office, she fumbled the tape out of the case, and somehow got it into the player, dropping the case in the process. Not bothering to recover it from the floor, she pushed play, her throat jerking convulsively.

Hisssss..

“Aaahhhhh...” Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment, and her hips gave a little sideways spasm. The hiss was back. The wonderful, soothing, hiss. Back inside her mind. The world became three-dimensional again. She could think clearly, get back to work.

Calm now, she set the player to ‘infinite repeat’ and sat down at her desk. Picking up her pen, she paused over her work for a moment, staring at the wall.

Why she had suddenly thought, didn’t I just ask Mr. Jenkins if I could have the tape? He threw it away after all. Why the hell didn’t I... didn’t I just..

The tape hissed, and her thought, whatever it was, disintegrated. She shook her head, bent over her work, and the day just seemed to fly by.

She took the tape home with her again that night, not trusting even to put it in her purse, but carrying it clenched in her fist until it was out to her car, and safely stuck into the dashboard tape player for the drive home. The hissing mixed with the sound of the other cars as they whooshed by in the opposite direction, making it all sound like some glorious symphony. A symphony that grew louder and more complex in her mind with every passing mile, slowly swallowing up the rest of the world. Thousands of lovely hissing snakes, crawling into her brain from all sides and eating her thoughts...

Click. Morning again already. As one hand extracted the Tape from the player, Ann gently pulled the other out from between her widely-spread legs, out of her sopping pussy. She gave a long, luxurious, stretch and rose from the hard wooden chair, still clutching the Tape in one hand. Began stooping to pick up her sweaty, sticky, clothes, which were scattered haphazardly in a line along the floor, one end near the front door, the other right by the kitchen table. As she methodically gathered them all up and carefully draped them over her bare arm, she felt filled with a all-suffusing glow, somehow both cool and warm, which radiated out from her very core. Nothing ever beat a good, solid, dreamless, night’s sleep for recharging the old batteries.

But as she happily walked to the bathroom to shower and get dressed, she had a horrible thought which abruptly collapsed her sunny mood into ashen ruins. She looked down at the Tape in her hand. Today, first thing, she had to give It back to Mr. Jenkins. Her stomach turned over at the thought. But she had no choice in the matter.

None at all.

Ann approached the door to Mr. Jenkins’ Office with even more trepidation then the last time, almost literally dragging her feet. Why was she doing this? Why risk facing Mr. Jenkins’ anger? He didn’t need to know about the Tape. He thought It was out in the Dumpster behind the building, which is where It should be, if she had.. if...

She could just go back to her office, and listen to the Tape again and again and again until the ribbon snapped from overuse, and Mr. Jenkins would never be any the wiser. Yes. That’s what she would do.

Her hand closed around the knob, and she opened the door to Mr. Jenkins’ Office. Walked in without knocking. Once again, Mr. Jenkins looked up, an expression of mild surprise on his narrow face.

“Yes, Ann?”

“I.. Mr. Jenkins.. I.. " She gave a little sob and wordlessly held out the tape that she had been hiding behind her back. He looked at it, and then back up at her, frowning almost imperceptibly.

“What’s this?”

“I.. I listened to your Tape and stole it from your wastebasket and listened to it again and I’m very sorry Mr. Jenkins.” The words came out in one long blurt. She flushed brightly, and looked down at the floor, still holding out the tape. He spoke, still sounding mild, but with a faint trace of displeasure now:

“Are you saying you listened to that tape, without asking me?”

“Yes sir Mr Jenkins.”

“And then stole it from my office?”

“YessirMrJenkins.” She sobbed.

“I see.” A pause. “That was very naughty, Ann.”

“Yessir. I’m verysorry MrJenkins.” The words were almost moans.

“Yes, it was naughty, but see that you’re truly sorry. So I forgive you.”

She looked up, her tear-stained eyes filled with disbelieving gratitude.

“Th- thank you, Mr. Jenkins.”

“That’s quite all right. Now run along.” He finally plucked the tape from her out-stretched hand. Once again, he tossed it in the garbage can. Ann didn’t really notice this, or move, looking at the man behind the desk with a nervousness that was suddenly redoubled. She rubbed her hands together and swallowed as he started to scribble again on the paperwork before him. After a long moment, Mr. Jenkins looked up again, seemingly without surprise

“There was something else, Ann?”

“I.. I was wondering, Mr. Jenkins.. I know I’ve already caused so much... been so much trouble.. but I was wondering...”

“Spit it out, my dear.”

“If.. if I could maybe.. listen to the next tapeintheseries?” Again the last words came out in one long clump. She ducked her head again.

He stared at her and cocked an eyebrow, pen still poised expectantly over the papers.

“’Next tape’? What made you think there was a next tape?”

“I..” A quick, furtive, glance in his direction."..I don’t know. Mr Jenkins. I.. I just thought..”

“I see. It’s a bad habit to get into, Ann. Making assumptions.”

“Yes, Mr. Jenkins.” She was almost whispering now. She could feel him study her for a moment. Finally, he spoke, more gently this time.

“I’m sorry, Ann. My apologies. I’m being unnecessarily cruel. Especially since, as it happens, this was a correct assumption.” Her head popped up again, her expression eager. Mr. Jenkins opened one of his desk drawers and extracted another tape from it. Held it up between two fingers.

“You’re sure you want to listen to this?”

“Yes, Mr. Jenkins. Please. Very much.” She jiggled her body, and, feeling the way her breasts moved, abruptly realized she’d forgotten to put on a bra this morning. She was glad she’d forgotten, because it seemed now those movements under her blouse and jacket pleased Mr. Jenkins. He smiled a little, at least.

“Very well. But for this tape, you have to do something for me in exchange.”

“What’s that?” Wide-eyed. What would he want? Money? How much did she have in her bank account...?

“Give me a kiss. Just a little kiss. Can you do that?”

“That’s.. that’s all?” She could hardly believe her good fortune.

“Yes. Can you do that?”

She nodded, silently. Feeling as if she was wading through molasses, she shuffled around the desk, leaned over, and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

“Hmm. Now, Ann. You can do better than that.”

She swallowed, and leaned in again. This time, the word ‘peck’ no longer applied, not even remotely. After several moments, he broke off contact, and smiled. At much as he ever smiled, anyway.

“That’s more what I had in mind. Excellently done.” He passed her the tape. “Now, as I said, run along.”

“Yes, Mr. Jenkins!” She smiled back and hurried from the office, eagerly now, not in fear.

Night was falling once again. Ann stepped into her apartment, and felt her purse slide from her nerveless hand. Moving in molasses once again, she closed the door and locked it, then walked over to the big stereo, not the one in the kitchen. Slapped the Tape into the machine, started it up. It was no longer the time for ‘cozy’, or ‘intimate.’ It now time for massive, overwhelming, power. She cranked up the volume all the way up, and the Sound poured forth, no longer a hiss, but a formless roar that rumbled through the room. She gasped, and shuddered as it slid a couple of massive coils around her open, receptive, brain and began to squeeze... squeeze... pulping the few thoughts that remained inside.... Her clothes, her watch and jewelry, her hairpins, all seemed to fall away at a touch, and she knelt down before the stereo...

...squeeze...

...fell to her knees before the Altar, her pussy once again sopping, pulsing, in time to the Sound that filled her, filled the world, was the world. Her hair swirling around her head, she latched onto the edge of the Altar in a death grip, and leaned back as far as she could go, her body spasming almost constantly now, her unseeing eyes pointed towards the ceiling. She gasped, moaned, between the pulses of her mind and body. For a long, long, time, the sounds that came out of her mouth weren’t words. But gradually, pieces of meaning began to appear, growing louder and louder.

“ssss....Yesss... yesss... yessss... I understand... understand now... yessss.... understand... I.... yessss.... Sir! Yesss, Sir!... under... stand.... Oh God... Goooodddd... sssstand.... ....yessyesssyesssyesssSSSYESSSSSS..... YEESSSSSSSSSS......”

Night was falling. Jenkins sat in his apartment, wearing a robe that far from worn or broken in- in fact, it was actually crisp, with sharply ironed edges. He sat in a wide leather chair, and rolled brandy in a wide-bottomed glass. Idly, he glanced at his watch.

As if that was an awaited cue, there was a knock at the door. He smiled, and spun the chair noiselessly, but did not rise.

“Come in, my dear.”

The door opened, and Ann stepped into the room, her naked legs flashing in and out of the long coat she was wearing. She smiled at him, her eyes smouldering.

“Hello, Sir.”

“Did you enjoy the tape? I noticed you didn’t make it into work today, so I assume you were using it to its full potential?”

“Yes, Sir. I used the Tape to its full potential. I spent all day today using your Tape to its fullest potential.” She gave a throaty laugh as she closed the door, locked it, and started slinking slowly towards him.

Again he swirled the brandy.

“I’m glad to hear that. So, what brings you by?”

“That Tape has done all that it can for me. I’m ready... eager.. to listen to the next tape in the series, Sir.” Arriving before him, she dropped slowly to her knees, staring at him and running a tongue slowly, slowly, around her full lips. Her hair floated loose around her head.

“I see. And do you know what the price for this tape is?”

“Yes, Sir.” She started undoing the knot in the coat’s belt. “In order to be allowed to listen to Tape #3, I have to be your wanton... eager... obedient... slut...” She shrugged the coat off over her bare shoulders, and it crumpled around on the floor. The brown ribbon from the last Tape was wrapped around and across her breasts, shoulders, and flat stomach, and all tied in a large bow, turning her into a cross between a birthday gift and a mummy. “I have to obey your every command. I have to love obeying your every command.” She began to crawl up into his lap, her tape-clad body sweaty. And dripping. “And I will...”

“Good, my little slut. There’s just one detail you got wrong.”

“Oh?” She arched her eyebrows and purred as their faces drew close together. “What’s that, Sir?”

“You’re paying for tape #4, actually.”

“Oh?” She slowly ran her tongue down his cheek, began kissing the side of his neck.

“You didn’t actually think that the tape you so naughtily stole out my trash can was the same one I tossed in there, now did you? Sped up your training quite a bit.”

“Sir is so very, very, clever.” She whispered in his ear. “Sir’s worthless slut hopes to make up for her unthinking stupidity.” She began picking apart the belt on his robe.

“I’m sure that my slut will.. Very sure.” He held up the hand that wasn’t currently filled with brandy glass. It contained a remote control device. He clicked one of the slim black box’s many buttons.

As Michael Jenkins’ new slut finished pulling his robe open, the room filled with a steady, warm, hiss, a hiss that was almost a roar, the hiss of a million long, coilling bodies intertwined inside a human brain as they endlessly rubbed against one another. For an instant, her slut-body paused in its actions, and gave a couple of sharp twitches, her head lolling up, her smile growing even wider. Still twitching a little, she brought her head back down. Her voice came in breathy gasps:

“Your slut likes... this.. ooooh.. this Tape the best... of all, Sir.” She sank down, her head, and far more importantly, her mouth, dropping between his legs.

He smiled down at the sight before him.

“I do believe it’s my favorite as well.”