The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

This had gone far enough, Lydia thought. She had professional standards to maintain, and this was obviously not maintaining them in any manner.

She opened her mouth to tell him so and slipped her lips over the uncircumcised head of his delightfully, extravagantly rigid penis. Her tongue moved of its own accord, tasting the pre-cum at the tip. She slid her lips down slightly, very conscious of her other lips, moist and needy and shaven and naked under her shockingly short black dress.

That wasn’t professional either, of course. She should take it off at once. She reached down to do so and her fingers got very, delightfully distracted. Her mouth had moved to his balls, heavy and ready. He made a noise of encouragement and she opened her mouth to say something through the fog of need and moaned.

Time to stop right now, she thought and turned around to show him that it was over. Papers and files cascaded off her desk, her tits (he’d said to always call them tits) just about falling out of the shirt as she bent over for him. She scrambled to get into a more dignified position behind her desk like a responsible professional and spread her legs for him so he could better see her absolutely dripping snatch. Just as he asked.

She could pinpoint just the moment when things had started to get out of control. She’d called Darren Mena in for a random urine test, as per the terms of his parole. Hispanic male, 22, arrested for his second drug possession charge, released to a treatment program and monitoring.

She saw 15 cases a day like that; this was nothing special. She’d barely looked up from the paperwork when Kit passed him through to her; just motioned to the door and said something boiler plate about sign here, sample jar there, please proceed, tampering cause for revocation of parole, etc. etc.

He’d cleared his throat, then, and there’d been something about just that little noise that made her stop and look up.

“Yes?” she said.

He cleared his throat again. That odd sound. Some overtone she couldn’t quite identify. An accent? Could you hear an accent in the way someone cleared their throat? She had to stop herself from clearing her own throat and trying to recreate it. It was like she wanted the noise to be part of it. Like she wanted to take it in all the way.

What on earth? Where did that thought come from?

She shook her head and tried to concentrate on the client and not on taking anyting in, for pity’s sake.

He was slight, clean-shaven. Fairly good-looking in a boyish way. He looked oddly expectant.

“Sorry, Ms. Fulton,” he said. He hesitated, then gave a little nervous, rueful smile. “I’m afraid I’m not ready to take the urine test today.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You’re not ready?”

He shook his head apologetically. “Not today. Maybe I could come back tomorrow?”

Obviously it was going to be one of those days. “I’m sorry,” she said, matter-of-factly. “I’m afraid you don’t understand. This is not optional. The conditions of your parole provide for random urine tests. This is one such test. If you refuse to comply with the terms of your parole, you will be considered in violation, and you will be subject to incarceration.”

She paused for him to say something. He didn’t. “That means you’ll go to jail,” she added. “Do you understand?”

He nodded. “I know. But…don’t you think you could bend the rules, just this once? Give me another week?” His eyes widened innocently. The effect was somewhat spoiled when his gaze slid down to her chest. Christ what a loser.

She opened her mouth to tell him that he had five seconds to get his eyes off her breasts and get his ass into the bathroom.

“The information’s already entered,” she said apologetically. “Even if I wanted to let you off; it wouldn’t work; no sample and you’re toast.”

Wait…why was she telling him this? She didn’t want to let him off. She wanted to throw his fine ass in jail at this point.

Fine? What? She hadn’t even seen his ass, had she? She tried to remember.

Her meditations on his absent or present rear evaporated as he leaned over her. “You could pee in the cup for me, Ms. Fulton. Just this once.”

What the hell? Putting him away was going to be a pleasure.

She smiled. “Well, okay. Just this once.”

Wait. What?

He smiled at her beatifically. “Oh, thank you Ms. Fulton. I’ll just wait here while you pee, okay? You can think about how grateful I am out here!”

Lydia nodded pleasantly and picked up the cup. She could feel his eyes on her as she headed for the bathroom. She locked the door and undid her slacks. Part of her brain was screaming at her, asking her what she was doing, but it seemed a long way away. Most of her was thinking about Darren, and how grateful he was.

Very grateful. She was grateful he was grateful. And he was grateful she was grateful he was grateful. And… All the gratitude made her feel a little dizzy. And warm. So warm her nipples were perking up right at attention.

There was something wrong there but the gratitude and the nipples made it a little difficult to think. She pulled down her pants and her underwear. She took a disinfectant wipe to clean down there, per protocol. Protocol was important. Without it, where would she be?

She’d be peeing for some perp for some reason, she guessed.

The cold of the disinfectant made her gasp a little — but not just the cold. She was oddly sensitive. Under her loose top she could feel her nipples, still rigid. She thought about Darren checking them out. Guys often checked her out; she was quite large. It was tiresome.

But somehow the memory of Darren doing it was…not exactly tiresome. She had a quick, vivid image of walking out with her top off, her large dark breasts in her bra, Darren’s smile as his head lowered to her needy nipple…

She positioned the cup and proceeded to fill it. She thought about how pleased Darren would be. But why should she want him to be pleased? What was she doing? She finished and put the top on the cup. Pulling up her panties, her fingers lingered for a second on her lips. “Oh,” she said, out loud, involuntarily. That was…she was definitely…. She pulled her pants up hurriedly.

Darren was sitting just as he had been. He watched her walk back appreciatively. She handed him the cup. “You…uh…you can take it to the lab,” she said. “Down the hall.”

“Thanks so much,” he said. “You’re great, Ms. Fulton. I know you’ll help me out again if I ask, right?”

No, of course she wouldn’t.

“Sure, Darren.”

“Cool. Don’t worry about it or anything. I know I’ll be ready next time! See you soon!”

And he was gone. She sat at her desk. What the hell had happened? She’d just violated the law to help a petty drug dealer for no reason. She’d peed in a cup on command. She’d gotten turned on…no, correction, she was still turned on.

Something was very wrong.

But…he had said not to worry about it. She shook her head, and told Kit to send the next client in.

By the next day, not worrying about it had turned into deciding it had been no big deal…just a minor error she could correct easily enough. She could just call him in for another drug test; he’d deliver a sample and there’d be no harm done.

Kit sent him in. He came in, a little swagger in his walk. He noticed her watching him and smiled that smile.

“Hey Ms. Fulton. You wanted to see me again, huh?”

She didn’t want to see him again. She wanted to get him to fulfill the terms of his parole and then get out.

“Oh yes,” she said, a little breathily “It’s good to see you again, Darren.” She smiled. “And call me Lydia.”

“Okay, Lydia,” he said, in that weird overtone, or accent, or whatever it was. Hearing him say her name like that was cute. Kind of sexy even. She found herself thinking about it as she peed into the cup. As she wiped herself too. She lingered a little longer than she needed to. Touching herself while thinking about him saying her name was…mmmm.

“Thanks, Lydia, honey,” he said when she handed him the cup.

Honey? This had gone far enough. She opened her mouth to tell him so, and giggled. She threw a little sway in her step as she went around her desk, too. What the hell?

He was still sitting there. “You can go,” she said, as coldly as she could manage.

“You’re not going to call me back in tomorrow?” he asked. All innocence on his face. He was looking at her chest again though. She’d worn an extra layer somewhat in anticipation; there wasn’t much to see. Certainly he couldn’t see how rock hard her nipples were.

She tried to get her brain back on track. “No,” she said. “I don’t seem to be able to stop peeing for y…there doesn’t seem to be much point.”

“It’s your job though, isn’t it? To get my urine sample? Drain it out of me? You want to do a good job, right? So shouldn’t you keep trying?”

“What?” she said.

She hadn’t thought of it that way. Yes, she supposed she did need the sample, even if it kept eluding her. She had an odd, passing image of holding him while he went in the cup. Holding his…she was going to stop thinking about that. He was saying something.

“I was saying that I think you’d be more persuasive if you could dress a little more attractively?”

Okay, that was it. He was getting out of her office and never coming back. She would transfer him to somebody else — George maybe. He could try to get 6′6, 350 pound ex-cop George to pee in a cup for him if he wanted.

“What…what’s wrong with the way I dress?”

He shook his head. “There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s just — you’re trying to reform people, right? Don’t you think you’d have an easier time doing that if you were more…approachable? Maybe even a bit sexy? Seduce them to the good, you know?“

Seduce them to the good? What the fuck?

“What…what do you think I should wear?” she said.

“Hey, Lydia. Nice outfit!” Kit said.

Lyia smiled at her nervously. “Thanks I just felt like dressing up today, I guess. You don’t think it’s too much for the office?”

The green dress was a bold sheath, clinging tightly to her curves. The scoop neckline showed ample cleavage. The four-inch heels drew attention to her other assets when she walked. She’d seen George in the parking lot and he’d done a double-take when he saw her swaying up. She’d heard him make a little noise as she swiveled past. She’d liked the noise.

“Nah,” Kit said. “You look great, honey.” Her hand played idly with the hem of her short, flirty skirt; it looked about ready to puff away. Her strappy top cupped her cute little B-cups snugly. “You like my new earrings?” she said.

Lydia leaned in. At the last minute, she realized she was giving Kit more of a look at her cleavage than the other woman probably wanted. The earrings were little Hello Kitty faces.

“Uh..sure,” Lydia said. “Very nice. And I like your outfit too.”

“Thanks.” Kit said. She didn’t seem put off by the cleavage. In fact, she was still looking at it. “I think,” she said, randomly, “that I’m going to go out to the Starbucks and get a nice cup of milk.”