The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Judy peeled off her clothes, stacking them neatly on the empty shelves provided against one wall. She had come straight from work to the spa, and the process of undoing her full business suit had the feel of removing armor. Her knee-length black pencil skirt followed her blazer and modest powder blue blouse, all virtually identical to their many clones hanging in her closet at home. Those were her old style, standbys from a previous era of her career, one she was now desperately moving away from.

There was a knock at the door to the tiny, dimly-lit room. “Mrs. Dorrenson?” a tender voice called.

“Just a minute,” she answered, trying to hurry the process. She’d gotten caught in traffic and was late for her 8:00 appointment. Rush hour around here was more like rush-four-hours. She didn’t want to miss any of her time on the table; that’s why she’d recently changed her standing sixty-minute appointment to a full two hours.

Her bra and thong, both black lace with tiny white bows at the seams, were more adventurous than the outer layer, as were her dainty stiletto heels and thigh highs. Those were her newer style. She’d gotten it into her head recently to gradually fold sexier items into her wardrobe where possible. Careful not to cause a scandal at the office, but enough to feel slinky and sexy just how she wanted.

She’d started making the change right around the time she’d started coming to the Red Castle Spa. But that was just a coincidence.

Finally she had everything put away in its proper place. She checked to make sure the ringer on her phone was off—it was—and slid underneath the pastel yellow sheet on the table, laying on her stomach with her face nestled in the cradle.

At the very same instant, Sven slithered through the door, knocking again as he did. It was as if he had a camera in the room and knew exactly when Judy was ready to go. “Hello, Mrs. Dorrenson,” he said in that gentle, reassuring voice. “How are you feeling today?”

“Stressed,” Judy answered curtly. She grimaced at her own tone. He was just being polite. “It’s been a tough day.” That was an understatement. She was on the verge of closing yet another massive deal. It would be a huge victory for the company, and her stock vestments meant that it was worth about $20 million to her personally; not a bad chunk of change even for someone as wealthy as Judy. She was killing it at the negotiations, but being a shark came at the price of relaxation.

“Well,” he chuckled. “Let’s see what we can do about unwinding you.” A heater chimed, announcing that the massage oil was at body temperature and ready to use.

“God yes, please.”

Judy had come here five weeks ago on the recommendation of a colleague’s colleague, one of the junior execs at the Kleisman firm downtown. She really wasn’t much for massage normally, but after one trip to the Red Castle, she was a convert. There was just something so soothing, so relaxing about the work here. Well, Sven’s work specifically; he had been her masseur on her first visit, and she’d made sure to book him specially each time thereafter. With a job as stressful as Chairperson of the Board at a multinational conglomerate, she deserved not just any spa treatment, but the right one.

“Is there any area you’d specifically like me to focus on today?” Sven asked, as he always did.

“Just the usual,” Judy said, her voice muffled by the restricted range of motion from the face cradle. “You’re the expert.”

Sven’s hands finally stopped fiddling with the oil and found their way to Judy’s back. She gasped at the touch. The room was far from cold, but even so Sven’s hands were fiery with heat in contrast. It seared pleasantly along her spine, instantly relaxing muscles that she hadn’t even realized were clenched. She groaned in pleasure and release, letting the stress of the workday flow off of her.

“Yes,” Sven intoned. “I am the expert.”

His hands flowed over her bare back, and she flowed right along with them. She’d been to two dozen or so masseuses in her time, but none of them could compare to Sven. From the first time he’d touched her, weeks ago, she could tell there was something special about his hands and how he could work her body. He was almost supernaturally good at his job.

At first it had alarmed her, but with every one of her tri-weekly appointments she got better at accepting that contented, tranquilizing heat. That was the point, after all. To just let go of her daily worries and let the tension bleed out of her. If you fight the power of massage, it can no longer help you.

“You’re the expert,” Judy groaned again, melting into the table.

She felt Sven’s smile. She could feel his approval in his touch. His hands seemed to congratulate her for being so relaxed, which contented her even more. She sank into the table, surrendering to the healing power of his touch.

His knuckles pressed at the vulnerable muscle to the inside of Judy’s shoulder blades. Letting him work on her like this was so good for her. She’d already become a much healthier person since coming to see Sven. She used to be so locked up, cold and sad all the time. Now she was getting better at seeing things in a positive way, at letting the stress of business, all those high-stakes decisions just wash off of her. Her arms slumped to the sides, muscles turning to warm butter as Sven’s hands reassured her that everything she was feeling was correct.

Besides, she needed the extra work on her muscles, now that she’d been developing them more. Judy had always kept herself in good physical condition, but she’d recently decided to work even harder on her body. Right around the time of her second session with Sven, actually. Her body was a temple, she thought, and his hands agreed. Or was it the other way around? Proper nutrition and exercise weren’t luxuries that she could skip; they were essential to living her best life. Just like regular massage was essential.

She had come up with her new exercise regimen out of thin air one evening, her mind wandering while she lay on Sven’s massage table. It was much harder than her already-vigorous practice of barre, spin, and yoga. It was daunting to think about, but somehow she found the motivation every day, and whenever she exercised she could remember the intoxicating touch of Sven’s hands as if he was massaging her at that very moment. The feeling gave her strength.

Over the last several weeks her previous fit physique had tightened and toned to a new level of perfection. There was barely an ounce of fat on her, though she was proud to note that her breasts had lost little of their former heft. She never used to think about her breasts much, but these days she was fervently proud of them, as she was of the rest of her body.

Sven’s hands oiled up the defined muscles of her shoulders and stroked across the sides of her neck. Waves of magenta pleasure rolled through her neck, directly into her backbone and into her skull. If there was ever a perfect reward for hard work, if there was ever a perfect ‘respite,’ as Sven usually called it, that was it. Judy melted into the table.

She definitely deserved this kind of treatment, she thought, not for the first time since she’d started seeing Sven. She was barely thirty years old, the youngest Chairperson on the Fortune 100 list. She had sacrificed much throughout her life for her current prestige, respect, and fortune. While others had been off partying or planning families or pursuing hobbies, Judy had applied herself fully to her career. There had been a few boyfriends here and there, and a couple of wild weekends in Vegas or out on the town in undergrad, but nothing like her contemporaries had enjoyed. Judy was a woman of focus, and now could enjoy reaping the rewards for that focus.

Sven’s hands seemed to agree, pumping warmth and satisfaction into her with every knead of her muscles. “You can let go,” they told her wordlessly as they pressed into the meat of her forearms. “You don’t need to worry so much any more,” the hands assured her all along her calves in their own tactile language. “Everything in your life is a victory,” they crooned along her thighs and onto the tight expanse of her ass.

Judy’s neck tensed for a moment, unaccustomed to pressure on her gluteal area like that. She realized in a flash that she was uncovered. Where had the sheet gone? She was just about to tell Sven that she didn’t need any attention there, but his hands spoke to her in the universal language of human touch. “It’s ok. This is all good. It feels nice when I touch you there.”

She couldn’t argue with that. She hadn’t realized how much tension she was holding in her butt. “Yes, it does,” she murmured agreement, though Sven had said nothing out loud. Far from voicing confusion, Sven just chuckled lightly.

Sven’s touch lingered there, rubbing deep circles into the olive flesh of Judy’s butt. “Your ass is so nice,” those hands seemed to tell her, full of approval and affection. “You should be proud of it. You should enjoy it to the fullest.” Judy wasn’t sure where these thoughts were coming from. Was she thinking them herself? How could Sven be so expressive with nothing but hands and oils?

Sven’s hands roamed all over Judy’s ass and thighs, covering them with warm massage oil and filling them full of that delicious, overpowering heat. Judy really did have a nice ass. She loved her ass, she decided. That was why she’d switched over to wearing delicate, sexy lingerie on a daily basis, and had thrown out all her old, boring underwear. She was looking forward to throwing out all her old, boring pants and loose skirts, too. She loved showing off her body.

Sven pressed harder, pulling apart Judy’s ass cheeks and massaging them deeper, and Judy decided that it wasn’t just her ass that she loved. Her whole body was so sexy, everything about her was hot and fuckable to the core. She needed to show the world more of that side of herself. That’s why she had been flirting more for the last few weeks; everyone from underlings at the office to baristas had found her to be increasingly titillating every time they met. She enjoyed giving out her number to many of the legion of men who asked for it. She enjoyed taking selfies in lingerie for them to admire her. She had never done that until recently, but somehow it just seemed so natural and so desirable these days. Sven’s hands pressed into her soft, yielding flesh, and that thought cemented itself in her brain.

Judy felt a gentle but insistent pull on her hip, turning her over to lay on her side. She loved that feeling of being manhandled, pushed and pulled however that heated touch wanted her to be. She would never say no to that touch. That touch felt so good. It was always right.

She yelped slightly as Sven’s hands found her breasts, gently kneading them. This was new, a part of the massage routine that she had never experienced before. But Sven’s hands could do no wrong. She must finally be ready for something more involved. And she could hardly complain; the hot pleasure that had felt so good radiating through her back and shoulders and legs was amped up tenfold against the monumental sensitivity of her breasts.

She felt like such a fool. She only came to Sven three times a week for a couple of hours, but this was the best she ever felt. The best feeling in the whole world. By contrast, she spent so much time at the office, fawning over contracts and negotiations that made her money but stressed her out. She needed to refocus herself. Her career was less important—Sven squeezed her breast savagely—no, her career was totally unimportant compared to her body. Her sexuality. She was worth hundreds of millions of dollars. That was plenty. It was time to refocus her life away from business and more toward being pretty and enjoying her body.

There was a pressure between her legs, and in an instant Sven’s finger slid inside her pussy. She groaned, bucking against his hand. His finger curled inside of her tightness, pressing against that sweet spot against the front wall of her pussy, and she nearly exploded in an instant. She needed this. She needed to be the kind of sexy, uninhibited bitch who let anyone, even her demure masseur, play with her body however he wanted. She loved how wet she was, how good it felt to surrender to his touch and let him take from her what he wanted. Nothing could ever feel this good.

His thumb rubbed at her clit while his other hand expertly pawed at her tits, sending shivers through her body. Sven was so good to her. He knew exactly what she needed. Since she’d started coming to see him her whole life had turned around. She’d been stuck in a dead-end job with nothing to show for it but a vast fortune and vast corporate power… But no realization of her true, slutty potential. The power of his hands had relaxed her enough to unplug from the nastiness of the corporate rat race and see what was truly important in life: being a sexual toy for men. They were the ones who mattered. She was just a high-class piece of ass for them to use.

And who could matter more than Sven himself? As soon as that thought ran through Judy’s head, Sven’s finger was replaced by something much larger and much more satisfying. The silent masseur finally grunted as his cock filled up Judy’s slick hole. She gasped, feeling more satisfied than any cock had ever managed to make her feel before. He thrust into her again and again, his raw cock rewarding her for her pleasant thoughts about him.

No one mattered more than Sven. She was sure of it. She wanted to be his slutty toy more than anything. She wanted to feel like this not just a few nights a week, but every day, all day. She wanted to abandon her job, abandon her fortune, and give it all to him. She had a vision in her head, crystal clear, of how she would resign from her position at the company, just as soon as this latest deal was done. She would invite Sven to live with her, sign her mansion and her assets over to his name. She could see herself on her knees, sucking his cock while he took videos of her to put on the internet, using her real name, sending them to all her old competitors and coworkers so they could see what she was now. Her pussy gushed at the thought of being so completely humiliated before all the people who had respected and feared her. An orgasm built inside her right there on the massage table as she thought of being irrevocably tied to Sven as his benefactor and live-in sex slave.

Judy cried out, bursting with climax, heedless of the quiet sanctity of the spa environment. Sven flipped her onto her stomach, riding her from behind with powerful strokes. His cock felt even better than his hands had, guiding her down a spiraling tunnel of joy and heat and pleasure. She forgot all about what it was like to want wealth and power and respect. She forgot all about ambition. All she wanted was to submit to Sven’s touch. She would do anything if he would continue to touch and stroke and use her. Give up her whole life to him, just as she had given her body now.

Sven roared as he came, his thick cock pumping a seemingly endless load of cum into her. Judy burst at the seams, thrilled beyond belief at the new revelations that had come with Sven’s persistent, glorious touch.

She was still spasming from her orgasm when a fragrant, delicious warmth slathered against her face. She opened her mouth, allowing in Sven’s still-firm cock. Her own pussy juices mixed with his cum against her tongue, and she eagerly cleaned off his shaft, swallowing the bits of his cum that clung to it.

He pumped lazily in and out of her mouth for a moment while she contentedly sucked away at his manhood. Nothing had ever felt as good as serving Sven. Nothing would ever feel that good. She would do anything to keep him in her life.

“Well. That was unexpected,” he said at last. He had been silent for so long that Judy had almost forgotten he could speak. Not that he needed to.

“No kidding,” she said. “I don’t know what came over me. But your hands are just…” She didn’t want to say the word she was thinking of. It made her feel silly.

But Sven seemed to understand anyway. “Yes,” he chuckled. “Something like that.”

THE END