The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“God,” Tina thought, staring slack-jawed at Sandy, “is she auditioning for the role of ‘office slut’?”

The object of her disdain looked up from the papers she was sorting—sorting by bending way over at the waist, ass outthrust by her tall black heels—and smiled over her shoulder. “Good morning!”

“Uh... ‘morning.” Tina was too taken aback for her usual sarcastic remark. She hurried to her desk, hoping to avoid Robert’s scrutiny. Alas, her long slender legs almost burned beneath his lecherous glare. She hid in her cubicle, refusing to return his gloating greeting. That creep of a computer guy would just love to catch her in a skirt, no doubt. She didn’t know how Sandy could possibly withstand the ogling she must get.

Tina made herself wait until nine o’clock before going for her first cup of coffee. Ignoring Robert as she made her way to the reception area, she pulled a cup of black sludge from the machine. Sandy’s coffee might taste like charcoal, but at least it was strong.

“How’s it going, Sandy?” Tina asked after her first sip, not really looking at the perky receptionist. There was no response. “Sandy?”

Sandy was staring at her computer screen with... you couldn’t really call it “intensity”. Her eyes were wide but unfocused, and her mouth even hung open a little. It looked like no one was home behind that placid, pretty face.

“Sandy?” Tina waved her hand in front of Sandy’s eyes. Nothing. “Sandy! Wake up!” She snapped her fingers, and that seemed to rouse the receptionist from her stupor.

“Oh! Hi, Tina! Sorry I didn’t see you there.” Sandy’s eyes crinkled at the corners when she smiled. She was back to her cheerful self, as though she hadn’t been a mindless zombie just a few seconds ago.

But I was standing right in front of you... Tina frowned. “Uh, yeah. This is some powerful coffee you made. What are you doing for lunch?”

“Oh! I was just going to eat in the lunchroom with Robert.” She said it like it was no big thing. Tina was aghast: that sleaze had all the personality of slime mold, and she was pretty sure Sandy had said as much herself not a week ago.

“Right. Well... yeah. I’ll see you later.”

“See you, Tina!”

Tina did see Sandy a few more times that day, but the receptionist didn’t return the favor—each time, she was gazing stupidly at her computer screen, dead to the world. If only Tina could get some time alone behind Sandy’s desk, maybe she could get to the bottom of this. Fascinated by her monitor and eating lunch with Robert? Tina wouldn’t put it past the cretin to put some kind of hypnosis program on Sandy’s computer. And she couldn’t put it past her slightly-ditzy friend not to fall victim to it.

Opportunity knocked near the end of the day, when creepo Robert and most of the other staff had gone home. Sandy was taking notes in the executive meeting, meaning Tina had a reliable half-hour to look into the situation on the receptionist’s computer. Thankfully, Sandy didn’t have Robert’s paranoid computer-programmer habit of locking her workstation when she stepped away from it. The screensaver couldn’t be the culprit—just the operating system’s logo. Nothing obvious running on the desktop... Tina opened Sandy’s email client, noticed the cursor was highlighting an email from the beginning of the week, instead of the latest message. The email was from Robert, with the subject line “funny video!!!1”. Tina double-clicked the file attachment, innocuously titled “humorvid.swf”.

The pulsating blue spiral that immediately filled the screen made her yelp, but she didn’t even hear it. She was already too fascinated to be aware of anything else.

The pattern swirled down into the center of the screen, concentric circles following the lines of the spiral inward, constricting Tina’s gaze, locking her eyes on the rhythmic, strangely soothing animation. The irony that this was exactly what she’d expected was helplessly distant, Tina’s thoughts blunted by the utterly hypnotic trap.

She didn’t notice Sandy return, calmly stand beside her, staring over her shoulder at the screen. A dreamy smile locked into place on Tina’s lips as Sandy began to massage her shoulders, mindlessly parroting the mantra the email had been burning into her brain:

“Love Robert...”

“Rob—? Uhh...” Tina tried to think—it was too difficult. Massage. Spiral. She could only sit, stare, repeat. Soon Tina and Sandy were chanting softly in unison.

“Love Robert. Obey Robert. Arouse Robert. Fuck Robert. Love Robert. Obey Robert. Arouse Robert. Fuck Robert.”

When she arrived home that night, an hour later than usual, Tina couldn’t imagine ever thinking those words, let alone speaking them aloud. In the morning, when she dug the sheer black miniskirt and high-heeled pumps out of the drawer where they’d lain since her sister’s staggette a year ago, Tina couldn’t imagine what could be wrong with wearing them to work.

“God,” Tina thought, biting her lip as she stared at Sandy, “Her ass is just so perfect.”

The receptionist was wearing a tight denim skirt today, and was once again in an incredibly compromising position over her desk, organizing scattered file folders. Her legs were set slightly apart and, in her lofty wedge-shaped shoes, her curves were on display like the company logo behind her desk.

Robert came into the office, glanced at Tina—she smoothed her skirt down over her thighs—and got a load of Sandy’s butt wiggling as she hummed about her workspace.

“Damn, Sandy! Watch where you point that fine ass of yours! How’s a man supposed to control himself?”

Sandy spun around and gave Robert her big, eye-crinkling grin. “Oh, silly! Good morning!” She shooed him off to the coffee machine. Tina said good morning to Sandy and followed Robert to their desks.

“What a creep,” she thought. But something barely hidden by her little skirt burned to have his attention.

The other women in the office were puzzled by Tina’s dramatic change of appearance—most of them gave her a wide berth, as though whatever affliction for dressing like a tramp she had was catching—and the guys either whistled shamelessly or tried their best to cloak their desire behind a veil of “You look nice today, Tina. New haircut?” It bothered Tina, but she tried to brush it off, strangely distracted both from her co-workers and her work. But every time she passed by Robert’s desk, her eyes darted involuntarily to his face. He didn’t say anything to her other than a polite hello, but when she caught his eyes tracking her long, bare legs as they scissored past, it was like in fifth grade, the eyes-closed heart-fluttering moment before her first kiss.

After lunch, which she ate in the lunchroom, glancing over from her table again and again to where Sandy and Robert sat enraptured with one another, Robert stopped by her cubicle. Before she could say a word, he put a hand on her shoulder, looked down past her hemline, and spoke.

“You look smoking-hot today, Tina. ‘Bout time you started showing off those fabulous pins of yours.” And, as she sat there stunned, he turned and left. Her fully-justified rage at such a comment was, surprisingly, doused by the urgent wet heat between her thighs. Baffled, Tina spent the afternoon trying to keep either of her hands from slipping down under her keyboard tray.

Passing the reception desk on her way home, Tina heard a quiet moan from the server room behind Sandy’s desk. Slipping off her noisy heels, she slid to the doorway and peeked inside. Sandy was standing stiffly with Robert behind her, grinding his crotch against her skirt, hands reaching around to cup her breasts. Sandy’s hands lay on top of his, but she was clearly not trying to prevent his touch. Robert seemed to be leaning close and whispering something in the receptionist’s ear. She quivered in place, her eyes wide.

Torn between fear, jealousy, and simple arousal, Tina didn’t know what to do. Afraid that if she remained she’d just end up jilling off while watching Robert molest her friend, she hurried home to relieve her need there.

Tina spent the next day biting her tongue, watching Sandy throw herself shamelessly at their unpleasant co-worker. Sandy kept finding reasons to walk by Robert’s desk, her presence announced by the clop of even higher-heeled shoes than she’d been wearing the day before, and she kept sitting on the edge of his workstation with one leg crossed over the other, running a hand provocatively along her thigh as she bent forward to give him a good long look into her cleavage. Bastard that he was, Robert stared at Sandy’s tits with a smug smile on his face for every minute of their conversation, but Sandy didn’t seem to mind.

“God, she’s sexy,” Tina thought, having left her work untouched to watch the spectacle of her co-workers’ flirtation. “I wish I could turn him on like that.”

What? Where had that thought come from? Tina crossed one leg over the other and let her shoe slip so it was dangling off her big toe. She ran a hand along her thigh just the way Sandy was doing, imagining Robert’s larger, rougher hand following it....

She shook her head—gross! The real problem was, Sandy was a little naive, and she didn’t seem to realize what a jerk Robert was. Tina would have to have a talk with her.

Tina waited until most of the office had gone home to confront Sandy. “I need to just come right out and say it, that she’s making a mistake.” Tina composed her argument as she approached Sandy’s desk. “I just can’t let her have Robert all to herself.”

Sandy was staring at her screen again, her mind clearly far away, her expression that same one she’d worn yesterday in the server room as she’d let Robert feel her up. Tina leaned against the counter that edged the reception desk, the sight of bluish light flickering against Sandy’s glassy eyes giving her a faint case of deja-vu.

“Sandy. Sandy! Listen: we need to talk about Robert.”

“Huh? T-Tina? Robert?” Sandy blinked and shook herself as Tina snapped her out of dreamland. Her eyes were still wide and glazed as she looked away from the screen.

“There’s a problem with Robert, Sandy. He’s trouble, and I don’t think—” Sandy’s gaze slipped back to her computer screen as Tina spoke, her mouth hanging slightly open. She interrupted Tina’s diatribe in a sleepy, distracted voice.

“Robert... yes. Tina, something’s wrong with my computer. Can you help?”

“Huh...? Oh. What’s the matter, Sandy?” Tina came around the desk to Sandy’s side, saw the screen, froze in place. “What’s the....”

As Tina’s body stiffened, Sandy and the reception area vanished from her awareness. There was only the spiral. The blue, beautiful spiral, controlling her every thought. Though it had erased her conscious memory of its existence, now that Tina saw the spiral again she knew what she had to do. Sandy, responding to her friend’s utter silence, began to chant, and Tina joined in immediately.

“Love Robert,” she said. “Obey Robert. Arouse Robert. Fuck Robert....”

The real problem, Tina thought the next morning, was she didn’t own any really sexy panties. She rooted through her underwear drawer, already in skirt, heels, and push-up bra, warm with the thought of how turned-on Robert would be when he got a look at her. She’d teased out her hair and spent time on her makeup as though she were going to the club rather than the office, and she was on the verge of being late but just couldn’t leave without putting on the most-provocative pair of panties she could find.

The metallic-red thong, a gag-gift that had spent its life stuffed in the back of her drawer, would have to do. She just hoped she wouldn’t get her skirt too wet fantasizing about Robert gawking at it.

Tina’s work day was a wash, her arousal and frustration running far too high to get any accounts balanced. Sandy was waiting on Robert hand and foot today, bringing him coffee, fetching his reports from the printer—she even picked up a couple dozen donuts for the mid-morning snack run and brought them to his cubicle so he could pick first. Sandy was wearing a brightly-coloured tube top under a tight polka-dot blouse, her skirt had a slit up the side that seemed completely unnecessary given its length, but was probably the only thing keeping it from bursting apart into a loincloth, and her open-toed shoes had five-inch heels and ankle straps. As Sandy perched precariously on Robert’s desk and poured him a fresh cup of coffee, Tina ground her teeth together. It was just so damn frustrating! Here she was, looking as wanton and desirable as she’d ever imagined she could look—more so—and that pulchritudinous little slut was practically going down on Robert to get him to notice her. Tina had to think of a plan, fast.

Once she’d gotten the nerve up to do it and emailed Robert to ask him to stay late and help her with something, the rest of the day was torture. At last, Tina tip-toed through the almost-empty office until she was pressed against the wall outside Robert’s cubicle. Dizzy with excitement and lust, she ran through the next few minutes in her head. Robert would be at his computer, playing Solitaire or reading stock tips while he waited for her to come tell him what she needed help with. She would step into the doorway of his cube, say something sexy and clever, like “hey there, good-looking,” and when he turned his chair to face her, trousers already tented up at the first glimpse of her, she would straddle him, hiking her skirt out of the way to display her thong, already damp in the center. He would tell her he’d imagined her wearing that very scrap of fabric in his dreams, and he would pull it aside and run a finger along her wet lips as he freed himself from his pants, and she would lower herself onto his cock and the sound he made and his needy hands squeezing her ass as she fucked his brains out would drive her out of her mind...

Tina took a deep breath, and stepped into his doorway.

Robert’s cubicle was empty.

Grief-stricken, Tina trudged past the reception area in her coat, shoulders slumped. She looked up when she heard a giggle and a gasp from the server room, but, assuming what was going on back here, didn’t even want to look. Sandy had won—Robert wanted her, and wouldn’t give Tina the time of day. She just wanted to go home and drown her sorrows, but... the little gasps and moans from behind Sandy’s desk tugged at her curiosity. Beneath the thong she grew wet from the idea of Robert fucking Sandy, his gorgeous butt clenched as he drove his huge, hard cock into her (into my, Tina thought) pussy, making Robert cum helplessly inside her....

Tina found herself at the doorway to the server room, looking in.

Sandy was bent over amid the whir of computing machinery, almost on tiptoe in her heels, skirt forgotten on the floor. Her ass was arched high in the air, framed by black, lacy panties that were...

“God,” Tina thought, “crotchless panties. She wins.”

Robert had his pants around his ankles, one hand improving his erection while the other explored Sandy’s exposed sex. As she stepped into the server room, Tina heard Sandy mumbling in between her moans, some sort of mantra that, though she was certain she’d never heard it before, was nonetheless very familiar. As Tina drew closer, unsure of her intentions, she saw what was making Sandy mumble: a laptop was sitting on the empty server shelf that Sandy grasped, and pulsing endlessly on its screen was...

“Love Robert,” Tina blurted, suddenly frozen in place. “Obey Robert. Arouse Robert. Fuck Robert.”

“Fuck Robert!” Sandy moaned in agreement, as the man dominating their thoughts slid his cock through the hole in her panties.

Tina stood and stared, the need to be in Sandy’s position throbbing through her body in time with the spiral. “...Arouse Robert,” she said. “Fuck Robert.” Her voice was little more than an urgent whine. “Uhhn... Fuck Robert.”

“Don’t worry, Tina,” Robert grunted between thrusts, “you’re next.”

Standing there, helpless body presented by push-up bra and thong, mind emptying of all but four verbs and Robert, nothing could have made her happier.