The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Miss Alice Valentine was having a very strange day.

She wasn’t complaining, God knows. She wasn’t one to complain. Never complain just get even. That was her motto. She had resigned from her job at the Buckminster Corporation the day the new management had changed the name from Personnel to (gah!) ‘Human Resources’. She had walked away from a pension and twenty years service to set up on her own as a consultant because she simply could not stand the jargon and waffle that filled meetings since the takeover. She believed in common sense, in herself and in speaking plainly. And in the five years since setting up Valentine Recruitment she had done very well for herself, very well indeed.

It was particularly pleasing to her to have been approached by one of the new management people at her own firm to do a piece of private recruitment for him. Jerry Southwood had risen since she left to be head of the computing section at only 32. She remembered him as being a physically repellent little man, all spots and coke-bottle lensed glasses who still looked and dressed like a teenager in his mid-twenties. However she had never doubted his brilliance and she never let personal feelings get in the way of a contract. She felt happy, no that wasn’t right, she felt eager to do the best possible job for him. It was the first strange thing. She was too old and experienced for eagerness. Still, time to buckle down to work.

“And what exactly is it you will be wanting, Mr Southwood?”

Alice was sitting in Jerry Southwood’s living room, perched on the edge of a seat with her notebook on her lap and her pen poised. He was lounging across a settee dressed in the silk kimono he had greeted her at the door in. She had kept her face blank but inside she seethed at the impertinence. She always dressed properly for business meetings: she had come to this one in a tweed jacket and skirt, grey and suitable for a woman of her, let us be frank, mature age. She hated informality almost as much as she hated management by jargon.

“Jerry, you can call me Jerry.”

“I would much prefer to keep this formal, Mr Southwood.”

“Let me put that another way, I want you to call me Jerry. In fact I want you to call me, Jerry-hunny-baby. Or Lord-And-Master.”

“Well, if you insist of course, Jerry-hunny-baby. As I was saying, what exactly is it that you want me to do, Lord-And-Master?” She blinked. There seemed to be something wrong with that sentence. But it was very important to keep the client happy.

He grinned at that and smiled at her approvingly. He seemed quite different physically from the way she remembered him. Gone were the coke-bottle glasses (contact lenses perhaps?) and he seemed to have spent some considerable time in the gym. He was no longer a skinny little runt he had been but had put on considerable muscle. If she didn’t know it was impossible she would have sworn he had grown taller.

“That’s nice. What I want is to recruit a number of people to my personal employment. Some servants in fact but with a range of skills. This is what Ill be needing.” He handed her a piece of paper.

“Well, I’m sure I can use my contacts, let me see.... Chef, yes, housekeeper, yes, gardener, yes, paramedic? Well that might be a little difficult but I’m sure we can find some sort of medically qualified person, Secretary, yes, handyman, yes, librarian with IT skills, yes, personal financial adviser? Would you want that to be full time?”

“Yes, indeed. 100% dedicated to making me rich. Richer.”

“Well, that will cost. considerably more than the others. Might I ask what sort of salary you will be willing to pay, Jerry-hunny-bunny?”

“We can discuss that later. What is important is that there are a few restrictions on the people I want you to search for.”

“Which are?”

“Firstly they must have no family, no one who will ask questions if they choose to move in with me here.”

Alice blinked and looked around. The house her client was living in was huge and Victorian, some distance from the town. Clearly he was doing very well for himself. Stock options, possibly.

At the corner of her mind was a tiny something that said that the request was strange enough that she should have asked him why. But the rest of her mind was eager, more than usually eager, to please her client.

“I should have no difficulty with that. We have applicants give us considerable detail on their personal situations.”

“Good. And the other thing is that they should all be female. You wont have any problem with that.”

“Well, there is the Sex Discrimination Act, but I’m sure we can allow for a little positive discrimination, Lord-And-Master.”

“That’s good. And you can keep calling me Lord-And-Master for when were alone. The other thing too.”

“Jerry-hunny-bunny?”

“Yeah. In company it can be Mr Southwood. Wouldn’t want people to get the wrong idea about us.”

“No, indeed, Lord-And-Master.”

“Oh, and Alice, one more thing. The next time you come, would you wear this for me?” He pulled up a large bag, a clothes bag, from behind the sofa and handed it to her.

“Wear this?”

“Wear what’s in the bag. Just what’s in the bag. Nothing else. OK?”

“Yes, certainly Jerry-Hunny-Bunny.”

She had, at his request, gone through her files for women with the required skills and background and then had brought the files back to him. There were about forty in all. She felt a little silly in the clothes. The dress was pure silk, very expensive and the shoes were very stylish if a little high in the heels. But there were no undergarments at all unless you counted the garter belt and the stockings. And the whole thing was much more suitable to a younger woman. Still, you had to keep the client happy.

“I have the details you wanted, Lord-And-Master.”

“Fine, Alice. You look lovely in that dress. Most suitable.”

“Oh, thank you. Do you think so? Really? It isn’t a little... well, mutton dressed up as lamb?”

“Not at all. Hang on a tick.” And he fiddled with his laptop computer before saying: “Have a look at yourself in the mirror. Over there.”

She went and had a look and had to admit that she looked very nice in it. Even the way her nipples, erect against the silk, stood proudly erect and her breasts, nicely firm despite their size, strained against the fabric.... And certainly the clothes weren’t too young for a woman of.... Thirty five..... Thirty...

For a moment she felt quite peculiar. She seemed to recall..... Or rather she didn’t seem to recall seeing... And hadn’t she spen twenty years at the old firm. That would make her.... But then it was all right. She was thirty-two and her breasts had always been a source of pride and pleasure to her and she was happy to show them to the world. Yes, she was.

“No you’re quite right. Your taste is very good, Jerry-Hunny-Bunny.”

“It is isn’t it? Now sit down over there, Alice and read out the names of your candidates.”

“The names?”

“I’ve got to know the names, Alice,” he explained as if it explained everything. She thought perhaps he was into numerology, cabbala or some other form of Californian bunkum and planned to use it to divine which potential employees to shortlist. But instead he just copied out the names onto some application on his computer and then gave her a printout of a questionnaire he wanted filled in by all of them. She took the questionnaire and promised to distribute them and kept her comments on this violation of good personnel practice to herself. She doubted more than a handful of the women would even bother to return the forms when they went out, as he had insisted, without details of the employer or even the potential salary.

“Oh, and Alice...”

“Yes, Lord-And-Master?”

“This is for you.” He held out a sheet of paper.

“Hmm?”

“I want you to vary the things you call me. Memorise this list will you? And use the names on it from next time. Hmm? Do that little thing for me.”

To her surprise every last one of the questionnaires came back. And every last one of them had filled in every last question. Even the ones she had thought so peculiar in the ‘Psychological Profile’ section.

“What do you hope to learn from all this, Lusciousness?” She asked as he went through the forms. She had learned every last one of the fifty forms of address on the list and as a reward he was allowing her to frig herself in front of him. She was wet, very wet and enjoying herself enormously.

“What I need to know, Alice. Whether they’ll be happy here.”

“Well, what about this section, Oh-One-Whose-Cock-I-Long-To-Suck?” His cock, she could see was not unaffected by her display. “’Have you ever performed any of the following?’ Half of these I don’t know what they mean and the other half I wish I didn’t!”

“Hmmm, that so? Tell you what Alice, fill in the Psych Profile yourself would you? I’m curious to see what it will tell me about you.”

“Well if you insist of course, Lord-And-Master. But I still think it’s a waste of time.” She licked her right hand clean, picked up a pen and a blank questionnaire and went to it, her left hand keeping at its work lower down. She was kneeling on the floor at the time (something she was getting used to and finding surprisingly comfortable) and rested it on a coffee table. ‘Question One: At what age did you loose your virginity?’.....

Three days later and just one candidate for each position arrived at the house. Alice greeted each one wearing a new business suit she’d brought for the occasion. (For some reason her old outfits no longer satisfied her. What’s more they didn’t seem to fit properly: on top especially.) They were of all ages and appearances, which put to rest in Alice’s mind a suspicion that had somehow got into her mind. She had wondered, when she found the odd idle moment between running her business and running around arranging Lord-And-Master’s requests, if perhaps he might be trying to recruit women who could be sexually vulnerable. She had been on a course about that at the Institute of Personnel Management and something from that course had almost persuaded her....

But no. His choices ruled that out. Although some of the women were passably attractive, especially the financial adviser, Juliet Hardy, none were raging beauties and the carpenter/handywoman, Brenda Biggins was positively repulsive. Not only did she weigh fifteen stone at only five foot two in height but she had a slight moustache and was, if Alice recalled correctly from her questionnaire, a devout and exclusive Lesbian.

No, there was clearly none of that going on. She popped her head round the door and entered the study where he was waiting. He sat at the computer in his kimono. There was a display on the screen showing a woman’s body rotating round and round. The curtains had been drawn.

“They are all here, Fuck-Me-Rigid-I-Beg-You. Who would you like to see first?”

“The housekeeper, thank you Alice.”

And there was her name, Jane Purbright, on the screen by the rotating figure. She was a thirtyish redhead, very tall and stately. Alice turned and called her in.

“Thank you, Alice. No. Don’t go. I’d like you to see this.”

“Of course, Mr Southwood.” She took a seat by the door and waited.

“Now, I’ve asked you here, Jane—you don’t mind if I call you Jane do you?”

“No, of course not, Mr Southwood.”

“I’ve asked you here to offer you the position of housekeeper here.”

“Oh, is that it? No interview?”

“No that wont be needed. Thanks to Alice here I’m quite satisfied that I’ll be able to skip the interview stage. Your responses to my questionnaire told me everything I need to know. But just let me check a couple of things: you are in fact single? And have no current attachments?”

“That’s right.”

“And you’d be able to leave your old job right away and come here?”

“Yes, I’ve just got to give them a week’s notice and I’ve some leave time coming.”

“And your experience working administrating a large household speaks for itself. So, the position is yours.”

“Oh. Oh well, that’s very flattering. Would mind if I asked what the salary would be?”

“Oh, there will be no salary.” He turned to the keyboard and tapped a couple of times on it and then clicked on something on the screen. The young woman trembled for a moment and then stood up and started to remove her jacket.

“No salary? I’m sorry...”

“You see, I called it a ‘position’ and not a job deliberately. You would be living here as my slave rather than as my employee. You would be my property. Understand now?”

“I certainly do and I’ve never been more insulted in my life!” She removed her blouse and started to undo her skirt. “I don’t know what sort of filthy pervert you are but I shall certainly be reporting you and your associate to the authorities!” She slipped out of her skirt and started to remove her bra. Her breasts were conical, Alice noted and tipped with cherry red nipples. She did not shave under her armpits. Alice wondered why this interview was turning out so strangely but kept her mouth shut. “If this is your idea of a joke, I’ll see you laughing the other side of your face!” The redhead removed her panties and ripped her stockings off furiously before standing naked before the desk, her pale skin in lovely contrast with the red bush at her groin.

“Just wait there a moment, Jane.” And he touched something at the keyboard again. Again the young woman shuddered.

Alice watched and shook her head. It was as if the woman’s body was rippling under the skin. Her body first thinned down, loosing a slight layer of fat and gaining muscle tone. Then her breasts expanded, growing from perhaps a C cup to something like a DD. Her nipples grew longer and thicker at the same time. Her red hair grew too cascading down her back.

She moaned and panted as if a wave of desire and need was washing across her. Alice found herself wanting to moan too. The sight of the young woman was affecting her, making her want, making her need.... Something she could not remember. Something that she had tasted....

Lord-And-Master turned from the keyboard and said: “You are no longer Jane Purbright.”

No. I am... I don’t know who I am.”

“You are my slave, Monday. And I am your Master and Owner.”

“Yes. Yes, Master. I am your slave, Monday.”

“On your knees Monday. Get down and crawl and kiss your Master’s feet.”

Alice watched, her mouth dry with longing as the girl obeyed. Monday tried to kneel up and put her mouth under Lord-And-Master’s robe but he cuffed her away.

“Later for that. Pick up those clothes. Now go through that door. You will find the stairs leading to the upper floor. Choose one of the empty bedrooms to be your quarters and await further orders.”

Smiling, the newly made slave stood and walked out of the room. Alice became aware that her vision was clouded with tears.

“Why are you crying, Alice?”

“I.... I saw... I want something. I want....I can’t say. I can’t remember.... I want what she has, Fuckmeister. I want...”

He smiled and turned to the keyboard. Alice felt herself rising and removing her clothes. She got as far as getting her bra off when he did something more.

Her breasts suddenly swelled under her hands, growing still larger. She cupped them and held them, her thumbs rubbing against the nipples. Her hair flowed across her shoulders and she felt her pussy moisten....

And she remembered. Remembered how he had taken her after she had brought him the questionnaire she had filled in. She remembered kneeling, her mouth on his cock, the feel of it swelling under her tongue, the salt taste of cum in her mouth, on all fours, her arse in the air, she remembered. She remembered her awe, her worship. Being owned. Him telling her what it was he was really after. And then wiping her mind of it.

She saw herself in a mirror. Younger still perhaps not even twenty, far more beautiful. The girl of her dreams and his.

“And why are you still crying, Alice?”

“Because you wont want to keep me. You have your seven girls, one for each day of the week.”

“Yes and so?”

“Where is the place for me?”

“Oh, I wont be keeping you here, that’s true. You will still be mine though. You see, I’ve realised that I’ll eventually grow tired of this girl or that. I’ll want a change. Shallow of me, I know. And when I do, who will it be who finds a new owner for the slave I’m getting rid of and finds me a new one? And who will want to test each one out for me? Hmmm? Who will get to keep my girls happy when I’m busy? Hmmm. That’s better. Dry your eyes. And now why are you laughing?”

“Oh, I was just thinking of a phrase I’ve always hated, Lord-And-Master. But it seems to fit.”

“Hmmm?”

“Human Resources. I’m in charge of Human Resources.”

They laughed together and then he sent her to fetch the next candidate. They wouldn’t notice anything odd in her change of appearance, he assured her, nor in the fact that she was calling them in with her tits hanging out. They bounced merrily as she ran across the room and opened the door to where they waited.

“Next, please!”