The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Gina

Paul glanced up from his signal analyzer, responding to a chime sounding through the lab annunciator system. Oh, four fifteen—time to get ready for Gina. He completed his notes, tidied up the lab a bit, and headed downstairs.

He stuck his head in the rec room—the chair’s control panel showed all green, everything set to go.

He stopped by the washroom to clean up. He’d just walked into the reception area when the office annunciator let him know Gina was coming up the elevator.

With a smile, Paul walked to the main office door.

Gina was stepping to the door as he opened it. She was about five foot four, with olive colored skin, brown hair and brown eyes. She was of medium build, a nice figure under her simple dress. She had fingers of steel, steel in velvet, talented fingers which were so good at finding and releasing tension.

He saw the look of adoration fill her face.

“Thank you for making time for me today,” he said with a smile.

She stepped forward and he touched the middle of her back, leading her into the office and closing the door.

His touch moving up to her neck elicited a sigh and a shiver from her.

“Shall we?” he said, leading them through the reception area to the rec room.

“Oh, Becky is still out, so it will be just me on Friday afternoon,” he told her. Paul had Gina booked every Friday afternoon for massages for himself and the staff, usually just Becky. Hopefully, Carol would be added to that. “But we may be adding another person to the group soon. It would make me happy if you could work that into your schedule.”

Gina sighed, almost moaned. Paul smiled, knowing she’d move heaven and earth to comply, to satisfy her conditioning, to keep the control loop stable.

Paul could see her eagerness as they entered the rec room and she walked to the chair. He could see her hands shaking slightly, her pace and breathing quickening. He thought he could smell her arousal as well.

“Dear Gina,” he said, triggering a slight moan from her, touching the back of her neck as he spoke, “make yourself comfortable in the chair.”

He watched her settle in. The chair automatically repositioned the headrest with its superconducting coils and extended the footrest as the chair tilted back. He heard her sigh, and saw two more indicators on the display go green as she secured the headband with its electrodes across her forehead, and then slipped her fingers into the sensor clips.

“Ready, Gina?” he asked, speaking into the microphone relaying his voice to the chair’s speakers. A window on the control display showed her face as picked up by a camera.

He watched her eyes close, her mouth forming a slight “O” as she sighed. He took that as “yes” and started the sequence.

The actuators hissed slightly, tilting the chair back further. Paul knew the sound of surf was playing through the chair’s speakers. He watched Gina’s biometric responses on the screen. The adaptive part of the program started, sound and motion at first pacing, then slightly leading her. Audio and kinesthetic cues would ease her into a relaxed trance, then the superconducting coils would take her deeper, directly stimulating specific areas deep in her brain.

Not today—Paul overrode the program, triggering direct electromagnetic stimulation. He watched her face on the monitor window. He barely heard the sound of the chime sound through the speakers, coincident with the first pulse of the superconducting coils, sending precise stimulation to her brain. He saw her tense momentarily then relax, her eyes unfocusing.

He smiled—her response was good, indicating a medium trance state on the first pulse.

He gave her two more pulses, deepening her trance, before letting the program resume. Paul keyed the monitor speaker momentarily, and heard Gina’s recorded voice say, “Relax...” His shoulders slumped and his eyes closed at the sound, one of the cues he used to place himself in trance. His finger slipped off the monitor switch, silencing the speaker. Paul took a deep breath and opened his eyes. Her voice in this room worked magic on him.

Ah well, he thought, I’ll get to relax soon enough. He turned, leaving the chair systems to take her through reconditioning and kindle her arousal. Twenty-eight minutes, the timer said—enough time to get some work done.

In his office, he checked the transcript for Gina’s conditioning—yes, it did have self-preservation suggestions. He bookmarked that portion—he’d edit that in as standard from now on. Have to re-run Becky on that, although he felt pretty secure about her. On the other hand, he’d felt pretty secure about Miss MacDonald. That was the problem—knowing what to constrain in a complex system.

Gina opened her eyes, blinking and taking a deep breath. The chair rocked her slightly still, the soothing surf sounds tapering off into silence. She slipped her fingers out of the clips and undid the forehead strap. She moved her head from side to side, letting her eyes close as she did. She felt so relaxed, so tranquil after a chair session, so filled with energy.

The chair sensed the shift in weight distribution as she leaned forward, retracting the footrest and returning to an upright position. She stood, stretching as she did. She turned, and took a sharp breath.

She saw her Master, her Paul, naked and face down on the massage table. The sight sent an erotic charge through her. With a lusty, hungry smile, she stepped quickly to him. She touched his back gently. Oh how she wanted him, wanted to please him. She was so lucky...

She quickly shed her clothes. Her panties and pants were soaked; they usually were after the chair. She glanced at the futon, but decided to leave it in place—today she would take him on the massage table.

She stepped around to the cabinet by the massage table. She picked up the bottle of massage oil with one hand and pressed the illuminated green button with the other. She spread some of the lightly scented oil in her hands as the sound of surf filled the room.

Paul felt Gina’s touch, and thought he heard her shedding clothes. He was feeling quite relaxed already, just being face-down on the massage table. Then he heard the surf recording start. He took a deep breath, and let it out.

Her hands touched his back, smoothing on the massage oil.

“Good,” she said, “another deep breath, and... Relax for me.” As she spoke, she pressed into his back, hearing him sigh, feeling him relax.

Paul exhaled, listening to Gina tell him to relax, slipping into trance. It was so good to relax and let her work her magic on him. He followed her voice, and her strong hands, drifting into a pleasant trance.

Gina took pleasure in relaxing her Master with her hands, and with her voice. She gave him the massage he needed, working the tension out of his body. Every sigh from him sent an erotic tingle through her.

By the time she turned him over, she was trembling with arousal and anticipation—how much she needed to please him, to have him filling her! But she knew she had to complete his massage first. She told herself she was making love to his whole body, and that helped a little.

Paul was still in a light trance as he felt fingers move to his groin and cock, and felt himself responding to her caress and voice.

Gina inflamed him with her hands and her voice, finally climbing on the massage table and straddling him. She moaned as she took him inside her, coming strongly for the first time after a few delicious strokes.

She worked both of them into a frenzy, using her hands, her voice, and her body. His orgasm erupting inside her pushed her over the edge again, crying out and rocking, rocking, milking every last drop from him, until she collapsed onto his chest, kissing him.

When her breathing had returned to normal, she kissed her Master once more, got up, cleaning him up and placing the towel between her legs. She went to the head of the massage table and massaged his head and neck, soothing and relaxing him.

A few minutes later, she gathered her clothes. She kissed her Master’s forehead once more, and let herself out of the room to shower and dress.

She sighed as she let herself out of the office and got into the elevator. By the time the elevator door opened at the ground floor, all she could remember was how relaxing the chair had been, and how wonderful it was to help Paul relax. She looked forward to their next session on Friday. She looked at her watch as she stepped out the door. She had time to get a bite to eat before her last physical therapy client of the day. She smiled and sighed as she walked out on to the street—the work with Paul and his company wasn’t that financially rewarding, but it satisfied her still. Her future was with her Master, her Paul; she knew that.

Paul roused himself slowly from the massage table. He sat up and wiped some of the oil off his chest. Damn, Gina was good. Still, Carol would be an interesting addition. He checked the chair’s control panel—it had given her another four pulses during the conditioning phase. He glanced at the clock as he shut things down. He had time for a leisurely shower before his business dinner. The Sony people always picked well.

Interview

Carol hurried down the street, hoping her hair looked okay. She’d thought the world had taken an interesting turn yesterday morning, meeting Paul, talking with him over lunch, which he’d insisted on paying for, but then things went wild. Greg, the CEO and the only remaining employee of her old company, called around three. Someone was interested in their technology! She insisted she couldn’t meet in the morning, and finally after a number of phone calls, agreed to meet Greg at a law firm on Market Street at two in the afternoon.

He’d called her later for more information. What with pulling together things for Greg, preparing for the meeting, and updating her résumé for Paul, it had been a long night. Of course she hadn’t slept well as a result.

She arrived at the coffee shop before Paul. Funny, with all they’d talked, she didn’t remember his last name, the company name, or where he worked. She ordered her usual and sat at the same table they’d used the day before. She reviewed her stack of papers, making sure she had everything lined up for the day.

“Good morning.”

She looked up. Paul nodded and sat down with his coffee. She had to sweep things off the table as he started to put his cup down.

“Résumé?” he asked after taking a sip of coffee.

A little flushed at his brusqueness, Carol dug through her stack and handed him her latest version. Paul took it with a nod, and looked it over.

Without looking up, Paul asked, “How was Gallway to work for?”

Carol nodded. “Okay. He supported my thesis. Still, I expected more recognition for all the work I did on the book.”

Paul took a sip of his coffee. “About par for the course. I wrote a series of papers, and was only listed on the last one when another member of the department squealed to the chairman. Do any teaching?”

Carol smiled. “The early morning classes someone didn’t want to get up to do.”

Paul nodded. “Why did you come out to the West Coast? You must have had other opportunities.”

Carol shrugged. “My try for the brass ring—I don’t know. After one winter here though, it would be hard to go back.”

Paul gave her a serious look. Carol wasn’t sure she liked it.

“PC or Mac?” he asked.

Carol gave him a tight smile. “I can work with both, but prefer Macs.”

“Conference presentations? Public speaking? Negotiating?”

She shook her head. “Besides teaching, and I won awards two years in a row, I did conferences. I handled the negotiations for the book, and got him a far better deal than he would have gotten. I think that’s why I got such a glowing reference in it,” she said with some bitterness. “I’ve also helped deal with vulture capitalists and customers.”

Paul nodded.

“I need to check references. What was your salary?”

Carol told him. She didn’t mention the stock options, since they were worthless.

Paul nodded. “I run a small company—technology development and licensing. I’m not sure I can match your present salary, but I can give you a percentage of profits, health coverage, and some interesting fringe benefits. I’ve been thinking about bringing in someone else for a while, and I think you’re a good match. Interested?”

Carol wasn’t sure if she was stunned or not. Still... “I’m interested, but I need more information. I’ve also got a meeting this afternoon.”

Paul nodded. “I understand. My office is a couple of blocks from here. I could show you around, and answer your questions.”

Carol gulped down the rest of her coffee and gathered her papers. “Let’s do it.”

Paul stood up, smiling. “I like decisiveness.” He started walking to the door.

Carol caught up with him. “How long have you been in business?” she asked.

“Coming up on seven years now, on my own.”

“How many other employees do you have?”

“Only one full-time, and she’s off this week. Part-timers for IT infrastructure, lab techs, cleaning. I use a handful of consultants, depending on the project—DSP wizards, coders, patent people. You’d fill in gaps in my skill set. Let’s cross here. Traffic on this street can be deadly.”

They walked up to a nondescript door between a dry cleaners and a sandwich shop. Carol wasn’t sure what he did to open the door. The door had street numbers on it, and that was all. As they went into a small foyer with an elevator, she saw what he did—waved a hip near a badge reader set in the wall. The elevator doors opened.

They got out on the second floor, another small foyer, and...

Carol read the company name on the other door, and laughed nervously.

“You’re Paul Walters? You’re Waltech?” she asked.

Paul nodded with a slight smile, and opened the door, inviting her in.

Carol shook her head, trying to remember what she’d said yesterday at lunch. She knew she’d talked about the Waltech patents—they’d been responsible for cratering her company. Well, it couldn’t have been that bad—he was offering her a job.

“This is the reception area. Normally, Becky would be here to greet us. You can put your things on the desk if you want. This floor is offices. The lab is on the third floor.”

“Mister Walters, Paul, I hope I didn’t give you the wrong impression yesterday,” she said.

Paul gave her a curious look. “Not at all—you gave me a very honest assessment.”

He headed down the hallway. “Conference room next to reception. We usually eat lunch there; Becky organizes it. Bathrooms on this side, with shower, then the support rooms—refrigerator, microwave, sink in this one; the next has copier, fax, servers and such. I have a wizard who takes care of networks, computer configuration, major upgrades, and the like. We’re all G4 Mac, by the way, with redundant fiber connections from our firewall to the net, and 100Base T switched to all systems. On this side, these are the offices for the consultants. This one is the rec room—we’ll come back later. At the end is my office, and next door is the one you’d use. Across from the offices are closets and supplies. Want to look at your office?”

Carol nodded. They went in. The office was pretty bare, but the furniture nice. There were file folders stacked on the desk. An Apple 22-inch Cinema Display sat on top of one of the desk surfaces. The office looked out onto San Francisco Bay. “Nice view,” she said.

Paul smiled. “One of the fringes. I also have parking underneath us on this side of the building—a reserved parking space is included as well, available 24 by 7.”

Carol took a breath. The parking space alone was worth a fortune—she lived four short blocks away—she could leave her car here, rather than fight for space on the street.

“My office?” Paul suggested.

Carol followed Paul to his corner office. His view was even better. The office was full of books and high-tech goodies, but all in all, the office had a meticulous order to it. A Cinema display graced the desk, with a smaller LCD display next to it. Paul sat in a chair next to the round table near one window and invited Carol to take the other.

“Let me tell you some more about the company.” He filled her in on major aspects: video and image noise reduction, digital rights management, and watermarking. He mentioned major customers.

Carol was impressed. “All those seems to be watermarking, DRM related,” Carol started out when he asked her if she had questions. “What are the control systems projects?”

Paul smiled. “Ah, that gets us into fringes. Let’s take a walk.”

Carol followed him to the rec room. That door seemed to be card-keyed as well.

The lights inside were dim, and the room sparse, with a massage table, a futon, a strange looking egg-shaped thing, and thin drapes on the windows. Carpeting covered the walls. The room was very quiet, with a cool, relaxed feeling. The entire office complex was very quiet—she hadn’t heard any traffic noise at all, unlike her fifth-floor apartment a few blocks away.

“One of the fringe benefits,” Paul said, letting the door close and walking to the massage table, “is a massage every Friday afternoon. One hour, by a very talented woman.”

Carol raised an eyebrow, smiling. “You’ve got my attention. What’s that?” She pointed to the large white egg.

She followed Paul over. Near the egg was an equipment cabinet with an LCD control panel on top. She saw an opening in the egg facing the windows—it was a chair of some kind.

“How familiar are you with biofeedback?” he asked.

Carol shrugged as she looked inside the egg. “Not very.”

Paul nodded. “This is one of my pet projects. We all get to use it. This is a relaxation chair—it uses biofeedback techniques, aural and physiological cues, to help you relax. That’s the hidden variable part of the problem—relaxation is a fuzzy concept. Ready for a test drive?”

Carol was wearing business attire—a simple business suit. “Why not?” she said. She certainly could use a chance to relax.

Paul smiled and held out a hand. “Hand me your jacket, then, and slip off your shoes. We’ll do a short run, say fifteen minutes, okay?”

Carol slipped off her shoes and jacket. “Okay. I have a meeting this afternoon.”

Paul nodded, placing her jacket on the massage table. “Don’t worry—I’ll get you there. Lower yourself into the chair.”

Carol sat back in the chair. The interior was black, and covered in soft cloth. It cut the light, and surprisingly, made things even quieter.

Paul’s voice came from the speakers behind her head. “Things are going to move as the chair adjusts itself to your body and starts reclining. I’ll help tweak things to make sure you’re comfortable.”

The footrest extended, and the chair tilted back a bit. Carol felt sections of it moving along her back and behind her head. Paul asked some questions, and made more adjustments, fine tuning the chair.

“Now reach up with your left hand to near your head. You’ll feel a strap there, with a Velcro end. Place that strap across your forehead, snug but not tight, so the center electrode is in the middle of your forehead. Those electrodes monitor brain activity.”

Carol found the strap and placed it over her forehead, centering the middle electrode. Things moved a little more.

“Check the right electrode—you have something between it and your skin.”

Carol fished a lock of hair out from under the strap.

“Much better. At the ends of the armrests you’ll find little holes for your index and middle fingers. They’re sensors, and also serve as an interlock—if you decide you don’t like the process, just pull one or more fingers out, and things will stop, okay?”

“Okay,” Carol said. She could barely hear her own voice, the sound deadening of the chair was so effective. She slid in the fingers on her left hand, then the right. The chair was quite comfortable.

“Very good,” said Paul’s voice in her ears. “Now we’ll turn it loose. You’ll hear the sound of surf, and maybe some other sounds and voices. Close your eyes, relax, and enjoy. Pull your fingers out if you want to stop, otherwise, the ride will last fifteen minutes.”

Carol tried to nod, but the combination of the strap and the headrest held her head, and quite comfortably. She closed her eyes and sighed.

Gentle surf sounds started, with something like a humming sound below the surf. Was she rocking? It felt as if she was rocking. She felt herself smiling. It was quite nice.

She felt herself relaxing, muscles loosening, and the chair repositioning slightly—yes, it was rocking her. It leaned back a little further, and she took a deep breath, letting out a long sigh. Small vibrations started up along her spine from little massage motors.

She drifted, random thoughts flicking through her mind. Parking, massage, this chair? An office with a view, interesting work... But then she also thought about how she was going to afford the rent on her apartment, what with her roommate out of work and moving back to the East Coast if she didn’t find a job soon.

The chair seemed to respond to that, cradling her more. Then a chime sounded, melting her body and her mind. It almost felt as if the chime was ringing inside her, something striking her head. It sounded again, dissolving her mind, melting her muscles...

She became aware of light in her eyes, and the sound of the surf again. The rocking was more subtle now.

“Good,” sounded Paul’s voice in the speakers. She sighed at his voice—he had such a nice voice. She was going to enjoy working here.

“Open your eyes now,” he said. Her eyes popped open. The rocking stopped, and the footrest started to retract as the chair shifted to a more upright position.

“Slowly, use your left hand to undo the electrode strap, replacing it.”

She did as he said.

“Now your right hand. No, don’t try and stand. I’ll come around and help you. Hold out your hands.”

Carol extended her hands and let Paul help her out of the chair. She sighed.

“Better?” he asked.

She sighed. “Wow—some fringe benefit! That’s included?”

Paul chuckled. “Yes, but you’re limited to once a day. That’s seven days a week, though, and your card key will get you in any time you want. If you take the job, that is.”

She leaned against the stool next to the dark control panel next to the chair.

“That was amazing,” she said. Then with a frown, she said, “What needs improving?”

Paul chuckled a little more. “As you said, control loop stability. It has to be manually fine-tuned at first—if things aren’t adjusted properly, it tends to create cramps, things like that. And that was your first run; you can relax a lot more than that, but it will take a number of sessions to get you there. We should be able to do better, and all automatically.”

Carol’s mind started running over the graphs and control flows she’d seen. “What a fascinating problem!” she said out loud.

Paul smiled. “Glad you think so. Let’s look at the lab, and then get lunch.”

Carol sighed, slipping into her shoes again. “I need to be downtown, Market Street, by two. We’ve got someone interested in the company’s intellectual property.”

Paul nodded, looking at her intensely. “I know.”

Carol gave him a surprised look.

Paul held out her jacket. “I’m the one interested in the I. P.—and you.”

Carol sighed again, a thrill running through her for some reason. “Really?”

Paul motioned to the door. “Really. As I said, you gave me a most forthright assessment yesterday. That’s the kind of input I need. Let’s see the lab, then head downtown for lunch.”

Carol shook her head, and followed.

They went upstairs to a very well equipped electronics lab. Paul showed her prototypes of different projects, including equipment from an amazing number of manufacturers. He also asked her questions about some of the test equipment, having her make some measurements. Carol hoped she demonstrated her proficiency.

She was relieved when Paul told her they had a tech who helped out, especially with prototyping and breadboarding. She admitted to still liking to do some of her own lab work, and his smile in response sent another curious thrill through her.

Paul nodded, and looked at his pocket watch. “We should go. We’ll be better off catching a cab—we’ve a reservation for twelve fifteen.”

Shaking her head, a little bewildered but still quite relaxed, Carol followed Paul out.