The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I was hired to do whatever my boss needs…

Mr. Foster, my boss, has been glancing at me oddly since lunchtime and I don’t understand why, but it’s making me self-conscious. I already went to the bathroom to look in the mirror to make sure none of my clothes were on inside out. And sure, I wore my tightest black skirt to work today, but I’ve worn it before, so that can’t be it.

Earlier today he was being incredibly nice and brought me a latte from the coffee stand on the corner. I’ve been working here for six months, and he offers to buy me a drink about once a week. Mr. Foster is a researcher in a private science lab and I’m his administrative assistant. He’s in his 50s, attractive, and I can tell he works out. He’s usually in a white lab coat, and something about a guy in a lab coat gets me wet, but I’d never try anything with my boss because this is my dream job.

The pay they offered me is ridiculous, and they basically hired me to run errands and do whatever Mr. Foster needs, which mostly includes data entry into spreadsheets with numbers and letters strung together that mean nothing to me. The job required security clearance, but they limit my access in the building to the administrative floor. I don’t know what goes on in the upper floors, and I’m paid to focus on my job and not get involved with anything else.

Each researcher gets their own separate administrative space that includes a large room where their assistant’s desk is located, and then a few side offices with glass windows overlooking the entire area. It’s always been just Mr. Foster and me working in these rooms, and he’s friendly, but doesn’t bug me most of the time. Several days a week he’s working on the upper floors and I don’t even see him. Those are the best days because I can wear my earbuds and listen to podcasts. Mr. Foster doesn’t have enough work for me, so I spend a lot of my time reading e-book erotic romance stories with just enough spiciness to give me a sexy tingle, but not enough to make me want to touch myself. He has no problem with me reading during my downtime when it’s slow.

Mr. Foster is working in the office with me today. It’s one of those days where I only had a couple of hours of work in the morning, and now I’m killing time and reading, waiting for Mr. Foster to need me. Whenever I catch him looking in my direction, I think he’s going to ask me to do something, but he hasn’t yet. I must have eaten too many carbs at lunch though, because I’m feeling a mid-afternoon energy crash and I keep nodding off.

After about the fourth time I catch my eyes drifting closed, I decide I need to walk around the office and get a cold drink from the water cooler. That’s my last thought before I lift my head off my desk and Mr. Foster is standing across from me on the other side. For a moment, it seems as if I have double vision because there are two of him standing there, but I blink, and he merges back into just the one person.

And what a handsome specimen of a man he is. One office wall has a row of windows that let sunlight in, and a beam of light hits him perfectly, creating a halo effect around him. His deep brown hair curls softly against his forehead and shimmers in the sunlight. His eyes, which I thought were muddy green before, glint like emeralds and my breath catches in my throat. Wow, how did I never notice how amazing he looks?

I’ve been a little horny all morning from my romance novel, but suddenly my body is on fire with need. I want Mr. Foster to fuck me… hard.

“Shannon, I need some help in my office.”

His sparkling white teeth flash at me when he speaks, and I’m mesmerized.

“Shannon?”

He waves his hand in front of my face and I smile dreamily at him while the inferno in my pussy has me wiggling against my chair. I wonder how big his cock is. Sure, I’d had that thought briefly once before, but now the desire to know is all I can focus on. Could I flirt with him and get him to pull it out and let me see it?

“Oh, you poor thing. Let me help you up.”

He moves to the side of my chair, and I lift my arms like I’m helpless. He grabs hold of my hands and pulls until I’m standing. I giggle at how stupid I’m being since I could have gotten up on my own. I’m perfectly stable, and I take a step to prove it to myself — stumbling and falling into him.

My hands splay across his chest as he steadies me, but as soon as I touch him, I need to know how silky his bare skin is. He smells like oranges, which I find equally delightful and hilarious. I laugh and wonder if he tastes like an orange. If he shows me his cock and lets me lick it, I can find out.

My hands are roaming around his deliciously broad chest, and I pluck at his shirt, trying to pull it from his trousers, desperate to get to his bare skin.

He grabs my hands to stop me, and commands, “Shannon, look at me.”

Annoyed that he’s preventing me from having fun, I pout at him petulantly. “What?”

He speaks slowly and clearly, as if I wouldn’t understand him. “Shannon, what do you want to do right now?”

What? Why is he asking me? My entire body tingles and I just want to rub against him and enjoy the scent of oranges. Maybe I’ll go home tonight smelling like one too.

“Shannon, listen to me. I need you to tell me what you want. If you tell me, you can have whatever it is.”

Ooooh, I can have whatever I ask for? Oh fuck, what do I want? Various scenarios flash through my head: me on my knees sucking his cock; him bending me over my office desk; me on all fours with him rutting behind me. But what do I really want?

I open my mouth to answer but pause with it hanging open for a moment while I have one final internal battle with my choices. I leave my mouth open and sink to my knees and glance up at him.

I give him my most seductive voice, hoping to tempt him. “I want you in every hole, starting with my mouth.”

He reaches out and strokes my face, brushing his thumb across my bottom lip. “Then you shall get what you want.”

A thrill shoots through me as he unbuckles his belt and unzips his trousers. As soon as he pulls his cock out, I can’t hold back. I grab it in one hand and guide it to my mouth. He’s average size, and the tip glistens with pre-cum. His shaft has a pleasant upward curve that would rub against the front wall of my pussy nicely. Wetness hits my panties as I picture his cock sliding inside me.

I suck on the tip, but remove my hand so I can work at getting my skirt off. Seeing what I’m doing, he puts both his hands on my head to help guide his cock in and out of my mouth while I struggle with the hidden button and side zipper on my skirt.

The manly musk of him mixes with the orange scent pleasantly, and I love the taste of his pre-cum. Oh, I should’ve asked him to blow his load into my throat. Fuck, that would’ve been delicious.

I finally get my zipper open, and I sit up higher on my knees to pull my skirt and panties down. I’m tangled up in my clothes, but I get them pushed down enough to give me access to my dripping pussy. Mr. Foster fucks my mouth faster and I spread my knees as wide as possible. Putting both hands between my legs, I finger fuck myself with one and rub my clit with the other.

God, why is this so heavenly? I gurgle happily around his cock, wishing I could tell him how scrumptious he tastes, but then he’d have to stop, and I don’t want that. The inner folds of my pussy are soft and slippery, and every brush of my fingers elicits little pings of pleasure. Giving into the complete abandon and wantonness is spectacular. Sex should be like this all the time.

Mr. Foster groans loudly and fucks my face harder. Oh, I think he’s going to come! A buzz of pleasure runs through me, and I suck and swirl my tongue harder, hoping to taste the first spurt at any moment.

“Shit!” Mr. Foster swears, releases my head and takes a step back, pulling his cock free of my saliva-coated lips.

Noooo… I whimper while I peer at him with big eyes. Why did he stop?

He’s panting, and his voice is harsh. “Stand up and lean over the desk.”

Oh wait, I said every hole! I try to stand up, but I’m wobbly with my skirt and panties tangled around my legs so he has to help me. He pushes me roughly against the desk, forcing me to bend over the surface as he pins me against it by my shoulder. When his cock immediately slams into my pussy, I’m shoved forward and my legs bang against the desk drawer with a dull thud.

I cry out from the intense pleasure, not caring if I end up with a bruise on my knee tomorrow. Nothing matters except his cock, and I plant my feet firmly on the floor and press back against him, meeting him thrust for thrust. My head whirls and I’m going to come soon. I can’t take much more of this. Every time he whacks against my pussy, a frisson of delight spirals from my core and runs all the way through my body.

I hear myself repeating, “Oh, god,” and “Fuck me harder,” and Mr. Foster turns into a wild animal, pounding against me so hard he bottoms out with every stroke. I close my eyes to welcome the bliss, but before my orgasm hits, I realize he’s talking.

“You… are… a… little… slut.”

He punctuates every word with a thrust of his cock.

I groan out, “Oh god, I am a little slut.”

And it’s true. I wore this skirt today, knowing it molded around my ass and highlighted how tight and firm it was. I’d hoped he would notice.

His voice is coarse. “You’ve been trying to get me to fuck you for months now.”

Whimpering, “Yes, I have,” my admission earns me a smack on my ass. I squeal and almost come.

“You want to come to work, get paid, and be my fucktoy.”

Ooooh. As soon as he says that, the truth hits me. I’ve wanted it for months and couldn’t even admit it to myself. I want to be Mr. Foster’s fucktoy, and get paid the ridiculous amount they pay me, and go home every night with either a belly full of his cum or a nice relaxing orgasm.

When he slaps my ass again, the painful pleasure makes me yelp.

“Shannon, answer me,” he bites out with a groan.

My body explodes when I breathe out the word, “Yes.” I scream as electricity shoots from my core, causing never ending waves of rapture to wash over me. I convulse from shocks of pleasure. Time slows down and I don’t know how long it is before he comes, but when he does, he roars out my name and I black out.

I blink awake and I’m sitting in my chair with my arms on the desk’s surface, pillowing my head. I’m sore, like I ran a marathon or had a wild night of sex, and I blush as I remember my dream. Fuck, that was a vivid dream. I almost giggle when I realize I didn’t get all three holes stuffed. Squirming a little in my chair, I notice how wet I am. It’s rare for me to orgasm in my dreams, but that was incredible.

As the brain fog clears, I glance around the office and sigh in relief when I realize Mr. Foster is focused on his laptop screen and not paying any attention to me. He wouldn’t fire me for falling asleep, but I might get reprimanded. I take a sip of water and notice it’s time to leave work. Damn, I slept a long time. How did he not notice?

I sit up straighter when he closes the lid to his laptop and collects some paperwork from his desk before leaving his office. He walks over to me and smiles.

“I’m heading out. You have a good night.”

I’m tongue-tied for no good reason, which surprises me, and I mumble goodbye.

He walks a couple of steps towards the front door and pauses.

“Oh, Shannon?”

I swivel my chair to face him. “Yes?”

“I’m grabbing a coffee in the morning. I’ll bring you your favorite.”

My pussy tingles and a jolt of pleasure zips down my spine as he walks out the door.

Well, fuck, having sex dreams about my boss is a little inconvenient, but it was so naughty and satisfying a tiny part of my brain hopes I have another dream like it tonight.