The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

(five years later...)

Dr. Angela Barton leaned against the rail of her picturesque balcony, gazing down at the incredible view of the ocean. This modest four-story villa overlooking the sea was perhaps her favorite of all her dwellings, and she spent more time here than anywhere. Of course, when you are the richest woman in the world, you can spend as much time as you want, anywhere you want! Tiring of the lovely view, the lovely young woman walked back to the main room, her loose open robe slipping off onto the couch as she plopped lightly into her reclining lounge chair. With the flick of a switch, the precisely set Tanning lamps came on, bathing her beautiful body with glorious light, enveloping every inch of her already marvelously tanned body, from her long blonde hair to her scarlet painted toes. With a sigh she recalled the way she once looked, before the money: tall, moderately attractive, with neck-length auburn hair, a modest but perky 36-C cup breasts, and slightly curvaceous hips. She had been lovely, not beautiful, but lovely. Fifteen billion dollars, two plastic surgeries, six salon visits, and countless hours of aerobics later, she was a virtual goddess. Her breasts were larger, 44-DD’s, her hair was so perfectly bleached that it appeared she had always been a blonde, and her normally pale freckled skin was tanned a golden bronze. Her figure now sported more curves than a track of Austrian countryside, and she had traded away her intellectual brown framed glasses for a pair of aqua blue contacts. In short, she was rich, powerful, and utterly beautiful.

Relaxing as the lamps completed their task, Angela mentally reviewed her day. At two, she had a conference call with the California branch of her pharmaceutical company; it seemed there had been another small claims lawsuit over an unplanned side effect to Neo-Nannite treatment. Sometimes I almost wish I had actually DONE some research on human test subjects instead of falsifying the results and sending it to the AMA she said softly to herself. Still, the product had proved 99% effective in curing all cellular damage, basically curing every major disease from AIDS, and Ebola, down to MS and Alzheimer’s, even down to the common cold itself. As the probes lasted for only 24 hours, the person was able to be infected with OTHER illnesses, or re-infected with the previous illness again, which made the viroids very much in demand. Even at the relatively low cost she had set for them, she had been able to make a fortune. So what if one or two unforeseen mishaps occurred? She had more than enough money to pay off any lawsuit, most of which were settled out of court. The only thing that bothered her was the triviality of having to deal with the “little people” that irritated her so much.

At four-thirty, she was to meet with Samuel Taylor, her liaison with the home company in the United States. A few months ago, someone had burglarized one of her production laboratories in the New York branch, stealing several documents, and a large number of viroid samples. Afterwards, the crook had destroyed the lab, blasting it to pieces. Luckily, no one had been inside when the blast went off, but investigators had thus far been able to find no clues as to who had struck, and no trace of the stolen items had turned up. Taylor had been heading up her own private investigation of the theft, using methods more...productive, than the common law enforcement agencies were able to. He was meeting with her today in person to give her his report, and Angela looked forward to finding out who had dared to defy her this way.

Smiling, she recalled her six o’ clock dinner date with Enrico, her newest male fascination. The man was native to Rio, and built like a Sherman tank. He was a little on the...ahem...SLOW side, which suited her just fine, but the thing that had really hooked her was his great sexual prowess, and the equipment to match! He was almost as long and thick as Mario...or was it Manuel? Or perhaps that oriental guy, Hoda? It didn’t matter, of all the dozens and dozens of men she had bedded, this one was easiest the best lay so far. He would probably become her favorite... until she found someone else to replace him. Angela sighs with happiness. Life was good when you were filthy rich.

A chime at her desk broke her out of her daydreams, and clicking off the tanning lamp, went over and clicked on the viewscreen. A young tanned, roguishly handsome face greeted her. Glancing at the time, she remembered her weekly massage appointment. But this wasn’t Sven, the Swedish masseuse that she had flown in few Switzerland every week, this was a new face, undoubtedly American. “Hello? Who are you and what do you want?” she called out testily. This was not what she had planned, and anything that didn’t fit into her well laid plans bothered her.

“Hello?” the clearly American voice called out. “My name is Charles, and I am here to give you your massage.”

Charles? She didn’t know any Charles, nor had she requested one. “I didn’t ask for you. What happened to Sven? I pay good money to have him flown in every week, and if something had come up, I expect to be notified IMMEDIATELY!”

The man looked taken aback, but answered nonetheless. “I’m terribly sorry, ma’am, but Sven was in a skiing accident earlier this morning. Seems that he broke both legs, and will be out of action for a while. He tried to contact you earlier today but we were told you were in conference and not to be disturbed.” Angela sighed. That much was probably true. Enrico had shown up for lunch, and a quickie, and she had asked her secretary to hold all her calls for the rest of the morning. “The company sent me to fill in for him,” he continued, “as I have also been trained in the same massage techniques as Sven. However, ma’am, I think you might be pleasantly surprised at my professional forte, something you mentioned to my supervisor that you wanted to experience...acupuncture.”

Angela considered for a moment. Her high society friends and acquaintances had put her on to the subject at their last get together. Among small talk, they mentioned that a few of the company’s masseuses had been trained in the Oriental art of acupuncture, and that it was a uniquely blissful feeling. Nancy had gone on to say that afterwards she had never felt so relaxed, and the feeling had lasted for days, unlike the relaxation after the massage. The other girls had all agreed, having had it done as well, with only Angela silent on the issue. “What do YOU think about it, Angela?” Wanda Peterson had asked her with a knowing grin. Angela always hated the stuck up bitch with the superior attitude, and not willing to be outdone, she replied, “Oh, I haven’t had my turn yet, Wanda DEAR, I’ve been looking for the foremost expert on the subject. You know me, always wanting the absolute best, never wanting to...settle,” she said, with a venomous glance at Wanda as she said the word, “for second best.” Truth be told, after the luncheon, she had promptly forgotten the whole thing, but apparently the ladies had mentioned to the masseuse, and now she was stuck with this...person...at her door. Oh well, she thought, why not? How much could it hurt?

Charlie had been waiting patiently, wondering idly if she was going to keep him waiting all day. He had a busy schedule, and much to do; he was very good at what he did, and his skills were much in demand. Dr. Barton was extremely rich, and quite famous, but he had his pride. Just as he prepared to turn around and leave, the door clicked open behind him. “Come in,” she said simply, and in he walked, gazing for a moment at the lovely body half exposed in the open robe. Her pubic area was totally shaven, he noted with interest, and the nipples on her large breasts were peaked and hard, no doubt from the cool air flowing throughout the room. Despite himself and his training working on naked bodies, Charlie felt himself getting aroused. As if knowing what he was feeling, Angela gave him a devilish smile, and rocked her hips seductively as she walked slinkily down the hallway.

“This is the parlor, where Sven usually does my massage,” she said, slipping out of her robe, and depositing it on a small hook. “What will you do first, the acu, or the massage? I expect to get both treatments, you know,” she said, idly straightening a few strands of her lovely hair.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he said ominously, opening his pack, and spreading the contents out on the table about him. “I’ll make sure you get the Full treatment. We’ll do the acupuncture first, which will make the massage afterwards feel all the more sensual. I would, however, suggest we blindfold you for this first time. Many clients find it VERY unnerving to look across their body and see all those pins sticking out of them.” The image caused Angela to start slightly, and Charlie quickly added, “Oh, don’t worry. It’s painless, I assure you. I am quite good at my job, Ms. Barton, I trained with the utmost expert in China for five years, and not to blow my own horn, but I am just as good as she is. You won’t feel anything but deep relaxation.”

Resignedly, the lovely young woman climbed up into the lounge chair, as the man pulled her arms and legs outwards, laying her in a spread eagled position. Slipping the blindfold over her eyes, he whispered softly. “Just relax, Ms. Barton. I will not hurt you in any way. You might be a little anxious about what is going to happen but just relax, and I’ll make you feel like a new woman.” His words, mixed with the anticipation, caused her pussy to moisten, her breathing speeding up slightly. With a gasp she felt a long leather strap fastening over one wrist, then another, leaving her arms pinned to the side. Raising her blindfolded face, she cried out in alarm.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” the man continued to whisper, gently pushing her head back into the soft pliant leather. “I’m just strapping you down to hold you still. You have to remain absolutely still while I place in the pins, and the straps are just to keep you from moving around too much. You are perfectly safe, Ms. Barton. Trust me.”

Biting her lip to control her fears, she settled down. The other girls had endured this, Wanda Peterson had endured this, so SHE could endure it. A sexually dominant woman, she hated any loss of control, in her life, in business, and in sexual encounters. In all things she relished being in control. It was an obsession. Now, being strapped down, unable to escape, unable to see what was going on, she found herself on totally new ground. Feeling her bare feet being strapped into place, she swallowed the lump in her throat and was about to call out to him to release her, when he spoke again. “You know, Ms. Barton, I am very much impressed. By this time, your lady friends had changed their minds, crying out for me to release them. You have so much more self-control than they did. It took me three sessions with Ms. Peterson before she agreed to actually go through with it...but don’t tell her I told you that,” he said with a chuckle.

His words fired her resolve, and she settled back, ready to prove she was better than those stuck up little twits. She couldn’t wait to use this information on Wanda and see the look on her face. “Ready when you are, Charlie,” she said softly.

“We’ve already started, ma’am,” he said softly from her side. “Believe it or not, I’ve already inserted three pins into your left arm. See? No pain at all, you didn’t even notice.” He was right Focusing on the sensation now, she could just barely notice the nerves at the end of her arm tingled slightly, the precisely placed pins sticking through her skin. The sensation, very faint, was quite pleasurable, and deeply relaxing. As the hour flew by, and more and more pins were inserted, she felt herself relaxing even more. Once in a while she noticed the pins as then entered, a slight discomfort that gave way to an infinitely more pleasurable sensation. Her pussy, already wet, was throbbing with sensation, and she knew she had creamed twice throughout the session. Her very mind seemed to have pins in it, exciting her brain, stimulating her, diddling her consciousness like a finger rubbing an engorged clit. The thought of her clit made her cum again, and again, her mind slowly surrendering to the feeling of pleasure, coming at her from all over her body at once, bringing her slowly down, down into the jaws of blissful oblivion.