The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Jacob stood just around the corner from the cubicles where the secretaries worked, and took a deep breath to try and steady his nerves.

He had to do it. Ms Maryse’s instructions had been unambiguously clear, and refusal was not an option. The only possible loophole open to him was if Kelly was not at her desk, and even that would only be a short-term escape clause.

Rounding the corner, he saw that last hope of a temporary reprieve crushed, and reluctantly, helplessly approached his punishment: to ask out the fat bird who possibly had a crush on him, and do whatever she wanted (short of committing suicide or serious crimes at her behest).

It felt strange, being over here without Bill and Rob at his side. How many times had they loitered close by, chatting about some innocuous subject that could be taken as an oblique reference to obesity? Always with a decent amount of plausible deniability, of course. No need for HR to get involved even if a certain secretary did ‘misinterpret’ their words as a dig at her weight.

And Kelly was certainly large enough to be oversensitive about that issue. Most chairs in the office had arms, but not hers, as she would have struggled to fit into one of them. There might not be any truth to the rumours about her chair having been specially reinforced, but that hadn’t stopped Rob from making some very pertinent observations about the load-bearing capacity of bridges a few days after the claim had started circulating.

Still, given what Jacob had to do, it was for the best that he was on his own right now. If his friends found out about this, he’d never live it down. How he’d keep it a secret if she accepted, he had no idea, but for now he clung to the hope that she found him as unappealing as he did her.

He stopped beside her desk, and she looked up, her soulful puppy-dog eyes gazing through her black-framed spectacles at him. “Did you need something, Mr Verril?”

“Call me Jacob.” He said it without thinking, and then realised the similarity of his words to the opening line of ‘Moby Dick’, a book he had once discussed with his friends not two metres from here. A glimmer of hope appeared: he wasn’t allowed to phrase his invitation in an off-putting manner, nor to behave in a way designed to discourage her, but that unintentional reminder of a past insult might be upsetting enough to elicit the rejection he wanted.

Kelly gave no indication of recognising the inadvertent reference. Hardly surprising, given that she seemed more into historical romances than the classics, but disappointing all the same.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw her latest bodice-ripper, and his heart sank further. Yet another one with a man on the cover who looked a bit like him. More muscular, the jawline that bit more chiselled, but similar enough that they could be taken for each other in a poor light. If that resemblance made her more willing to disregard his past misbehaviour—or, worse yet, if she deliberately picked books with that type of man on because they reminded her of him…

“Look…” He had been allowed a degree of latitude in how he said what he had to tell her. The guidelines laid down by Ms Maryse were very strict concerning tone and meaning, but he had to seem as much like himself as possible, which ruled out a fixed script. “Over the weekend something happened that made me think about how I interact with other people, and, well, I realise that I haven’t always treated you that nicely.” Remember how much of a bastard I am. Why would you want to have anything to do with someone mean like me?

She opened her mouth, then closed it again, her jaw trembling slightly.

“I’m sorry for having been… inconsiderate, and I’d like to try and make it up to you by taking you out somewhere nice one evening. If you’re interested, that is.” Don’t be.

She blinked at him, obviously wanting to believe, fearing the catch.

“No need to decide on the spot.” Take your time to remember all the stealth insults and dwell on how much you must hate me and my mates. “Just think about it and get back to me. Anyway, gotta go.”

Jacob turned and headed back towards his desk. He’d done his best: now he just had to hope for a favourable outcome.

He was attempting to balance a spreadsheet when a woman’s voice broke his concentration.

“What the hell do you think you’re up to?”

Starting guiltily, he looked up. A petite firebrand with frizzy ginger hair barely restrained by a scrunchie glowered at him.

“What’s the problem, Amelia?”

“This… whatever fast one you’re trying to pull on Kelly.”

“It’s…”

“I’ve kept quiet about you and your arsehole mates bullying her until now because… because you’re clever bastards and you’re good at staying just the right side of the line. I know what you’ve been doing, I’ve just never been able to get enough proof that I could raise a complaint and have a decent shot at getting it to stick. But this… raising her hopes to set up whatever humiliating trick you have in mind… that’s cruel even by your standards. Kelly’s my friend, and I’m not going to let you hurt her this time.”

This was awkward. Ms Maryse had made it clear that he couldn’t tell anyone else anything that might get back to Kelly and put her off him. On top of that, Amelia would be only too happy to get him into trouble if he gave her an opening, and he had no desire to join the ranks of the unemployed. Besides which, she was quite fanciable, and while he knew his chances of getting anywhere with her were practically nonexistent, he didn’t want to eliminate them altogether.

Perhaps, if he played his cards right, he could pull something good out of the situation. Women could be suckers for a reformed or reformable character. If he did a convincing job of feigning guilt over his past actions, maybe he could indirectly stir up enough of Kelly’s unhappy memories that she’d give him the thumbs down, while at the same time getting Amelia to view him in a more favourable light.

He swivelled his chair round to face her full on. “I guess I deserved that. But you’ve got me wrong.”

She gave a derisive snort.

“I genuinely want to make things up to her. All right, I admit that I’ve been a… a bit of a git in the past. But I’m trying to turn over a new leaf. Please don’t make it more difficult than it already is.”

“Why shouldn’t I? You don’t deserve an easy ride.”

He sighed. “I suppose not. But if you really care about Kelly, wouldn’t it be better to encourage me to mend my ways, instead of trying to convince me it’s more effort than it’s worth?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Don’t try to be clever.”

“I’ve heard your warning.” And now I know better than to ignore one. “I get your point. I know that if I do try anything on, you’re going to come down on me like…” In the nick of time he stopped himself from saying ‘the proverbial ton of bricks’. What if she took it for another weightist slur? “…like an avenging angel. So I’ll watch my step.”

Still suspicious, but grudgingly giving him the benefit of the doubt, she subsided. “You’d better. Put one foot wrong and I’ll break it off.”

Amelia walked away, and Jacob returned his attention to the figures. Put everything in the right place, and it’d all work out as it should in the end. He could only hope that that was the case with women as well as numbers.

The following day he arrived at work to find an ominous post-it on his keyboard. Kelly had accepted his invitation, and wondered if Thursday evening was a suitable date. She even suggested a couple of restaurants they could try: slightly up-market places, but not in the top tier, price-wise.

That was it, then. He was going to have to take her out. And treat her nicely. And maybe once it was over, he’d have more freedom to act, so he could deflect Kelly and work on convincing Amelia to go out with him.

The fateful evening arrived. Jacob waited in his car, watching the figures change on the clock with mixed feelings. On the one hand, it was humiliating to be kept waiting like this by a woman he didn’t even like. On the other, there had to come a point where he would be justified in concluding that she’d got cold feet, and could go home and forget about the whole thing.

Or could he? What if Ms Maryse’s commands compelled him to seek Kelly out and try to reschedule the date? If he found himself forced to pursue her, woo her, persist until she finally allowed him to take her out? His recollection of parts of his programming was hazy, at Ms Maryse’s insistence. “You’ll know what you have to do—and do it—if it becomes necessary,” she’d told him, “but I wouldn’t want you to worry about something that might not happen.“

A knock on the window distracted him from his worries, and to his relief he saw Kelly standing outside. How low had he sunk, that he was actually glad she was there?

He leaned over and operated the door handle to let her in.

She settled into the passenger seat. “Sorry I took so long. I had to fix my make-up and stuff.”

He had to admit that she was looking more… presentable than usual. She had an expectant look, and he realised with some alarm that she was hoping for him to say something complimentary. Speaking more truly than she could have known, he went with, “I hope you didn’t go to too much effort for my sake.”

Banalities about the restaurant booking helped fill the silence during the drive. They arrived more or less on time, and a professionally discreet member of the waiting staff showed them to their table.

Kelly took off her coat to hang on the back of her chair, and Jacob’s jaw dropped.

Logically, it made sense that a large woman should have large breasts. However, the way Kelly normally dressed at the office consolidated her whole body into an unappealing mass of fat. Tonight, by contrast, she’d chosen an outfit that accentuated her bust, and that was one impressive rack that she was showing off.

He became aware that he was staring. Staring at his fat date’s cleavage, as if she was a worthy candidate for inclusion in his photo collection. Mortified, he looked up, and found her regarding him with a slight smile.

“It’s all right,” she told him. “I wouldn’t have dressed like this if I minded you looking. Just so long as you look me in the eye when we’re talking.”

That made it worse. She thought he was embarrassed at having been caught checking her out, rather than appalled to find himself regarding her as even remotely desirable. Not that he could ever let her know his true feelings. To give himself an excuse to break eye contact, however briefly, he moved to pull out her chair for her, and she cast a cautious glance over her shoulder as she sat down, as if suspecting that he might try the prank of moving it away and causing her to fall on the floor. He felt slightly offended at her suspicion: teasing was one thing, but he’d never been into the sort of stupid tricks that could actually get someone hurt.

He took his seat and attempted to focus his attention on her face. He was not going to allow himself to become aroused by Kelly, he told himself, but a twitch down below told him that it was too late for that.

Throughout the wait for the different courses, and for much of the meal itself, he made small talk, because as long as he was having a conversation with her, her express wish helped him keep his focus on her at face level, away from the booby-trap displayed by her décolletage.

Along the way he discovered that they had similar tastes in comedy, and felt a mild twinge of envy as she waxed enthusiastic about her DVD collection. So many classics…

“Most evenings I just curl up in front of the telly with a box of choccies and a glass of wine and laugh my blues away for an hour or two.” She said that as if it was a good thing. Jacob thought it sounded lonely and pathetic, and inwardly cringed at the thought that he was feeling remotely sorry for her.

Once the meal was over and Jacob had paid the bill, he drove Kelly home. Now she had her coat back on, and was no longer sitting opposite him, he found it easier to ignore the way her dress had made him feel, and concentrating on the road provided an acceptable reason for keeping quiet along the way. That was it. The date was over. He could get back to something approaching normality. He hoped.

He parked as close to her house as he could. She reached for the door handle, then turned her head towards him. “Do you want to… come in?”

Not a chance. But a tiny part of him (well, not that tiny, and getting uncomfortably big right now, in fact) did want to. He focused on her hesitancy. “Is that what you want? Because if you’re only asking out of some sense of obligation, like it’s an unspoken quid pro quo for the evening out, I don’t want that.” And I don’t want it even if you’re absolutely gagging for it. I don’t!

She seemed uncertain. Another possibility occurred to Jacob. “And if you’re not sure, if you think you might want it, but you don’t feel like you’re ready for it yet, only you think maybe it’s now or never, then it’s better to wait.”

Some of the tension left her. “Thank you. It’s been a lovely evening, but I think I’ve had enough for one night.”

“That’s all right. Maybe next time.” Shit! Where did THAT come from?

She smiled. “Maybe.”

She leaned over to give him a peck on the cheek, then opened the door, extricated herself from the car, and vanished into her home. Jacob drove away, feeling sick to his stomach.

A couple of hours later, Jacob lay awake, painfully hard, jerking desperately at his cock and getting nowhere. If this went on for much longer he was going to give himself RSI.

Eventually, desperate for release and sleep, he brought to mind the fantasy he’d been avoiding. His massive prick between Kelly’s even more spectacularly huge tits, thrusting in and out. He came within seconds, almost blacking out from the force of his orgasm.

Sleep came at last, accompanied by wet dreams of cavernous cleavage.