The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Amanda was settled into the bookstore nicely. She was able to snag one of the few outlets in the place that gave her access to one of the large tables so she could spread out, and her laptop for when she needed it. Right now though she was working longhand with a legal pad. She tended to sort and write freehand and only use the laptop to actually create the work product and give it a final pass. The office always seemed to have too many distractions and she found herself far more productive here far more often than not. With her coffee close by and music in her ears the world shrunk down to a few supremely comfortable and productive few square feet.

Things were humming with three pages written and she was in the middle of a case law annotation when her little bubble burst and her humming world screeched to a halt by crashing into a brick wall in the form of the tall brunette who decided to sit down opposite her. Amanda glanced up at the seeming incongruity and did a double take when she realized it wasn’t her eyes playing tricks on her and there really was a tall brunette with blue eyes, round cheeks, and lips that seemed to be in a perptual pout sitting there.

Amanda pulled the buds from her ears, not pretending to hide her frown. “Can I help you?” She actually hoped that she could so that, one way or other, this person would be gone and she could get back to work.

“Is this seat taken?” She seemed almost shy in the asking.

Amanda looked around the room and, saw that it was sparsely populated. There was the a young man in the corner that she knew was a regular that wanted to be seen there working on his screenplay more than to actually work on his screenplay. Then there was a young woman in shorts far too short and halter top seeing how loudly she could make her bubblegum pop and playing with her phone. Add two baristas and otherwise the place was empty. She focused on those eyes once again and tilted her head quizzically, “Is there some reason you need that one? There are plenty around.”

The woman’s response was even more sheepish than her question and came out with a hint of shame drizzled over the words, as though she were admitting something that she often did not. “Monophobia. The very idea of being alone just...freaks me out.”

Her annoyance was blunted just a little. After all, if this woman was sick, she wasn’t just being a pest and trying to ruin Amanda’s day. “You know you’re not alone, right? I’m here. The baristas are here. There’s the guy in the corner. There’s a girl over there. It’s okay, so even if you’re sitting by yourself you’re not alone.”

She sighed and it was drawn out and breathy. “You’re right. But I just need to be a little closer to someone than that just now.” The middle-aged woman saw Amanda try to hide her consternation and tried to soothe it with her most apologetic tone. “I know. Believe me, I know I’m a pain in the ass with this and I wish things could be different sometimes, but I am how I am. I’ll have to move along with my day in a few and I’ll be out of your hair. So, could we just talk and be social for a few minutes, then it’ll all be over and we both can get on with our day?”

Amanda looked down at her legal pad. She’d been on a roll but that was over now.

“Come on,” she begged like a birthday girl trying to talk her way into opening her gifts early. “Please?”

It was the tone that sounded so anxious and fearful of disappointment coupled with her palms brought together in prayer that made her finally relent. “Fifteen minutes, okay? Then I have things I need to get back to.”

“Thanks so much.”

When the woman let loose a sigh of relief and Amanda actually felt a little good about herself hearing it. She decided to call it her good deed for the day. “You’re welcome. It’s fine.” She closed the open folder she’d been sorting through and sat it atop her legal pad and put the pen on top of that to give the woman her attention, “So what do you want to talk about?”

The woman smiled a winning smile. “Well, since I do get these urges to be around people and I’d be a creepy stalker if I just plopped myself down in front of them and yammered away all on my own, I really like to get to know them. So, what’s your name?”

“Amanda. You?”

“Jennifer.”

Amanda offered her hand that the other took enthusiastically. “Nice to meet you Jennifer.”

“Same here.” She took in the cafe. “This is a nice little spot. You come here a lot?”

“I do. I don’t recall seeing you around though.”

“It’s new to me. I always look for spots like this that aren’t the big chain places.”

Amanda grinned. “Picking one of those might’ve left you less lonely. They’re pretty much always packed.

She let out an embarrassed laugh. “I know, right? Again, I’m really sorry to mess up your day. I just sort of...panic sometimes, you know? It feels like ants crawling all over and I just have to find someone, you know?”

Accepting that the interruption had happened and would be brief it actually put her in a better mood. “I understand.”

Jennifer looked at the assembled pile of paper and files, “Looks complicated. What is it you do?”

Amanda gave a quick glance downward just to make sure nothing privileged was poking out to be looked at. She was always careful with that and, seeing everything was okay, she answered, “I’m a lawyer.”

She seemed impressed. “Oh, wow. Have a card in case I get busted for something,” she joked playfully.

Amanda played along almost out of reflex as she’d heard a thousand variations of the joke a hundred thousand times from a childhood with lawyers in her family and just a few short years in the job herself. If it wasn’t that, it was something with a punchline with dead lawyers being a great thing. “Corporate for me, so if it’s anything nastier than a ticket you probably want someone else.”

“Keeps you from having to deal with really scuzzy people, at least.”

That one genuinely amused her, “You clearly know nothing of corporate law.”

“If it’s not talked about on law shows on television, I don’t know anything about it, to tell you the truth.”

“So what do you do?”

She leaned toward Amanda just a bit, as though, while not a secret, she wasn’t willing to make it public. “I do phone and cam sex.”

Amanda let a brief look of surprise escape her and was admittedly a little titillated by the idea, in part, because Jennifer didn’t look the part. What does a sex worker look like? Jennifer could do it, Amanda decided. She was certainly attractive enough. But Amanda had always been, while not uptight, the person who prided herself on being on the straight and narrow. She was always the one picked to be the designated driver or to pick up mail while her friends were on vacation. She was the good girl and took flack for it, but that was just who she was and was okay with it because it had served her well in life.

It tweaked her because it was something she could never do and was just naughty enough for her to fantisize about now and then. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. It’s actually pretty fun and the money is good.”

“I bet.” Amanda had a twinge of jealousy realizing that Jennifer probably did way better annually than she did while spending about a third of the time doing it. “How many hours do you work a week?”

She gave it a quick thought, “Twenty hours, give or take. Whatever I want. When I’m ready to work I pretty much just turn on the camera and click myself ‘available.’

It was as Amanda suspected, but her curiosity went beyond that. “How does it work?”

“What do you mean?” She laughed. “How does a phone or cam work?”

“Noooo.” She blushed brightly and the eye roll that she put into her voice was blunted by the grin on Jennifer’s face. She was playing with her. She took a moment to try to find the words to get at what she wanted to know to keep the naughty she may as well play with to keep things interesting. “I mean… how does it work? Someone just calls up and says, ‘Hi, let’s talk about threesomes with fat girls?”

Jennifer shook her head. “Usually not. I mean, they’re calling me and wanting private because it isn’t stuff they want to announce to you or anyone else. Usually they just tell you what they want without telling you what they want. ‘So tell me, are you a big girl?’ means he wants a fat girl. ‘You ever shared a guy?’ means threesomes with fat girls. ‘Did you ever do gymnastics?’ Get it?”

“You’re okay with all that? It doesn’t get all gross or weird?” She could imagine some of the things people asked for when they were in a position to let loose their innermost and darkest fantasies and desires. Occasional cruising of the near infinite porn on the internet gave her hints of the depth and breadth of human kink that included things she could barely conceive that another person would sexualize.

She shrugged. “It’s all game-playing. It’s all acting and that starts the minute I pick up the phone. I’m not even me when you pick up the phone. It’s like, ‘Hello, Amanda. How are you tonight?’”

Amanda smiled instantly at the way she changed her voice. It was definitely the voice of a woman who knew how to project her sexuality with it. She had to admit she liked hearing even that little bit.

“It’s like I’m an empty vessel, you know?” Her voice dipped again, “I’m just something empty for them to fill with what they want. Blonde? Redhead? A gymnast? For a little while I become what they need me to be.”

She turned more casual once again. “It fills my needs and theirs. Keeps me from being alone and makes for a great living for not a lot of effort. It’s come naturally to me. It’s a gift, really. We both get what we want and all we do is talk to each other. We talk and we listen.” Her voice dropped again. “We talk and we listen.” She leaned closer still. “I’ve done a lot of talking so far, but social creature that I am, I like to listen, too.”

Amanda shook her head almost imperceptibly. “What...ummm….sort of people do you like talking to when they call?”

As she listened to the response that dropped into that dirty cadence talking about her callers as though she were on a call Amanda realized ...she just...loved the words. She could almost feel them. Fuck. When she does her voice like that it’s crazy hot. It was velvety and deep. No wonder she was so successful. Listening to that voice was like having her brain in a sauna; surrounded by heat and steam. And, as Jennifer painted a picture of the people and what they would talk about together, the images would condense in her mind and run slowly down like droplets against a window. She listened attentively as Jennifer talked just so that voice could bathe her brain.

Jennifer unleashed a crooked grin and took Amanda’s hand in hers. “Enough about me, Amanda. I really want to know about you. Tell me all about you.”

That she was hardly one to open up to strangers didn’t matter much at that moment. The conversation was so pleasant that she really couldn’t bring herself to end it. She glanced down to her files, “You already know the lawyer part. Married for about three years now and working towards a hou...”

“That’s too bad.”

She blinked rapidly. “I’m sorry?”

“Married? But you’re so young. I bet you didn’t sow a single oat, did you? No parties, no gap year; just you being a good girl. Keep your head down, good grades, find a husband. It’s fine, but that’s just so vanilla.”

Her voice turned to that liquid velvet again and it was like a steady waterfall over hot coals that showed no signs of cooling, sending waves of steam over her brain again. “I don’t like that. I like it when young, beautiful women like you are unencumbered. Imagine the life you can live.”

Amanda’s response was slow in coming. “Hmm?”

She purred. “You can do anything you want. If you want to spend money, there’s no one to ask. If you want to take a trip, you can just do it. Don’t you want to be free for once? Don’t you want to be free to do what you want to do?”

“I guess I hadn’t thought about it all that much.” There was so much truth carried in the words. She’d done what she was expected to do, but the talk of freedom just felt right somehow when Jennifer talked about that way.

“Strong and independent woman are sooooo sexy, Amanda. I look at them and I’m in awe. Doesn’t it sound good not to be tied down?”

Everything sounded good when she talked about it with that voice. “It’d make me sooo hot if you weren’t married anymore.”

“Huh?”

“If you weren’t married we’d have time to talk more. We wouldn’t have to worry about your husband getting in the way and we could talk all the time. We could talk about all sorts of things. Would you like that?” Before Amanda could answer, Jennifer added, “Mmmmmm…wouldn’t that be fun?”

The drawn out syllable made her shiver to the core of her being. “I—don’t...”

“Think about it, Amanda. Think about being free to listen to my voice as much as you want. And, oh how I’d talk to you, Amanda.” Jennifer took both of Amanda’s hands in hers, quite liking how she jumped just a little. Her pupils were dilating nicely and she was breathing deeply. She was a good listener. Of course, sooner or later, everyone was a good listener for her when she spoke to them in the tone they all loved. “Wouldn’t you like that?”

Before Amanda could respond to even agree or fight, Jennifer moved on, her voice still that mix of plush softness and raw sex. “We can work on the details later, but after it’s over you’ll have all the time in the world to listen.”

Amanda brought her knees tightly together and her mouth closed tightly to force a swallow down her now dry throat. “What...else would talk about?”

Jennifer watched Amanda’s expressions in that she watched them flatten as she spoke, “Do you like being a lawyer, Amanda?”

“Yeah,” she began before realizing how dry her mouth was again. She cleared her throat and tried again. “It’s hard, but I like it.”

“I don’t. Why do you? You say it’s hard. Wouldn’t you like it more if things were easier for you? Wouldn’t you like it if things didn’t get in the way of listening to my voice? Smart things get in the way of listening and strong women make me sooooooo wet, Amanda. Do you like my wet voice?”

“Uh-huh.” Right now it was inconceivable that there was anything better in the universe.

“Are you a strong woman?”

Strong women make her hot. And then I can listen to her hot wet voice more. “Yes.”

Her thumbs caressed the back of Jennifer’s hands. “Are you strong enough to forget about all those smart girl things, hmm? Are you strong enough to get rid of all the nonsense that keeps you from listening to my wet voice?”

She was sure her answer was true. “Yes.”

“Strong enough to forget about all that hard lawyer stuff? Strong enough to forget about all the hard things in your brain that get in the way of listening to my wet voice?”

“Yes,” she said quietly.

“Mmmmmmmmm...honey. You are, aren’t you? You want to forget all that lawyer stuff. You want to forget aaallllllll that lawyer stuff, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she breathed even as she went through everything she knew, from how to look over a contract to how to write a brief as the files in her brain that they were. ‘Are you sure you want to permanently delete these files?’

God, yes.

Jennifer helped it along. “Good girl. Let it aaaaalllllll go. Let aaaaaaallllllll the work go. Let all that silliness go. The more you let go, the more room there is for my wet voice. There’s more room for my voice to be in that pretty, empty little head.

Her career? Law school? It was all already gone. Now she was looking for anything else that might make it hard to listen to that wet, dirty voice and wiping that away, too.

Jennifer seemed to know just looking at her, “Good girl. Nothing between your ears except what you need to listen to my voice and do the things that make me soooooo hot, so I’ll keep talking to you with my wet, dirty voice.” She waited. She waited and praised and cajoled and tempted while she watched Amanda’s nipples pop from under her blouse. She waited and praised and cajoled with her wet, dirty voice even as she could see beads of sweat form on Amanda’s brow. She waited and praised and cajoled until Amanda’s face slackened and relaxed until the only thing on it was an empty grin, and that was hot to Jennifer. “What’s your name again?”

“Amanda.”

“Are you sure, honey? Amanda is a smart girl’s name. Are you a smart girl?”

She shook her head, unable to look away from Jennifer’s eyes or pull away from her caressing hands. “Nuh-uh.”

“Nooooo, honey. You’re not a smart girl anymore. You’re not an ‘Amanda’ anymore. You’re Mandi. Doesn’t that fit you sooooooo much better?”

It really did, and her grin broadened. “Yeah. I’m Mandi.” She decided to try it out. “Hi, I’m Mandi. It felt good and right to say. Jennifer liked Mandi because Mandi knew how to listen. And when she listened good Jennifer would talk to her more in that wet voice.

Nothing mattered more.

“That’s so yummy, honey. Hi, Mandi. You’re so pretty.”

Mandi blushed furiously. “Thanks.”

“So, Mandi. What do you do for a job?”

Her brow knotted in confusion as though she were being asked to explain quantum entanglement when, at this point she couldn’t have spelled it. Seconds ticked by as she tried to remember. Fortunately, Jennifer gave her the obvious solution in that voice that made more droplets of heat roll down her brain.

“If it takes this long to remember, you must not have a job, right?”

She nodded quickly, happy for the save. Jennifer was so nice to her, “Nah. I guess not.”

Jennifer slid an undercurrent of concern into the deep ocean of her voice. “Then, if you don’t have a job, you need a job, right?”

That was simple enough to follow. “Uh-huh.”

Jennifer came closer. “I have the perfect job for a sexy, dumb girl named Mandi.”

The notion thrilled her and she leaned inward to share the secret. “What is it?”

“My line of work makes me lots of money. Lots of pretty, dumb girls are like you, Mandi. They need jobs and I give them jobs. I take care of them and I talk to them. In return, they let me take care of them so they can keep being dumb and pretty and they give me all their money because dumb girls need a smart girl to take care of their money.”

Mandi was proud of herself for being able to follow along. “That makes lots of sense.”

“So I’ll give pretty little Mandi a job.”

She was beyond thrilled. She needed a job and now she had a job without even trying. “Oh, wow. Thanks. What is it?’

“I’m sooooooo glad you asked, honey. I own a lot of land and there are lots of things on it. I’m going to take you to a trailer park I own. You’ll have your own trailer and there will be lots of other pretty, dumb girls there for you to be friends with.”

And you’ll put on your shorts and heels and your sooooooooooo tight little tops. No underwear because I’m not spending any money on it because most of the men and half of the women just rip them off sexy, dumb little fuckbunnies like you anyway. That’s what you’ll do there. Ffffuck.”

She could see it all in her mind. That voice made it real already. She giggled. “Yeah. Undies would...just get in the way of people fucking me.”

“Stuffing your wet, stupid little holes with fingers...toys...cocks. They’ll do aaaaanything they want.”

Mandi whimpered desperately.

“And you and your dumb, wet little girlfriends will be the women they need that can do all those nasty...wet...sick things that get them off. Are you smart enough and dirty enough to be one of those girls?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Mmmmm...I knew it.”

Mandi whined yet again.

“Sometimes someone will come and dress you all pretty and fancy because maybe someone needs someone who can pretend to be a smart girl. But in the end you’ll just be a nasty, wet, sick girl that can do anything that gets them off.”

Mandi couldn’t wait.

“I’ll come and get your money myself so I can talk and you can listen. Then maybe I’ll ask you to do dirty things that get me off.

“I’ll do them,” she promised. “I’m nasty enough and wet enough and sick enough. I swear.”

“I knew you were perfect. Tell you what, let’s go now. We’ll get you settled into your new home, you can meet some of your new friends, and we’ll see if you can make me make more dirrrrty, dirrrrrty sounds.”

Mandi growled in anticipation. “I’m gonna.”

“Good girl.”

As they rose, the young twenty-something rose from her seat to come to the table and collect Amanda’s laptop and her files, popping her gum with almost clockwork precision and the same empty happiness in her eyes. For her part, Mandi didn’t notice or care. She just followed obediently behind Jennifer, caring about nothing but all the nasty sounds Mandi could make her make.

For nothing mattered but the sound of that voice.

End.