The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Your glass, Ms. Edger,” a young girl said as she handed Diana a glass of red wine.

“Thank you,” she said. Diana turned back to the woman sitting across from her. She was tall, elegant, and possessed striking hazel eyes. Diana wanted her, but she knew she didn’t have a chance with the famous seamstress Dama. “And thank you for seeing me again.”

“Few clients bring such interesting stories, Imprint.”

Diana shifted in her seat. Dama was pricey to deal with, but she knew she made the right decisions whenever she told her stories in exchange for some of the best clothes ever made. “And I have a new one today, but I need a special outfit. Something so beautiful that the stripper will never want to take it off.”

“The stripper?” Dama frowned.

“Yeah, one whose powers awoke right in the middle of ones of my nights of fun. I want her under my thumb, but I can’t do it without your help.” Diana saw Dama move to the edge of her seat. “I have a picture of her – here.” Diana reached into the pocket of her slacks and handed a picture over to Dama.

“She’s glowing.” Dama brought the picture obscenely close to her eyes. “Nice body, sleek, curvy in the right places, a large bust, and I do love that hair. I could make something very nice for her, but why do you need my help getting control of her? I can understand your desire to play dress up with her – I may want to borrow her myself for that one day.”

“Her power is troublesome, and now that she has found a way to mimic mine, I’ll really ne—”

“Mimic your power?” Dama’s eyes brightened.

“From what I understand, yes. She can do what I do with objects except with dances.” Diana shot the other woman a strange look. Why would Dama be so interested in that?

“What’s her name?”

“Sammi, why?”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to make something specifically for one person if I don’t even know their name.”

“So, you’ll do it?” Diana grinned.

“Maybe, what do you plan to do with her?”

“I plan to give her so many fetishes and kinks that she won’t be able to function properly, and when she’s begging to be saved from it all, I’ll give her a gift of salvation on the condition that she becomes my obedient plaything.”

Dama laughed. “Oh! Feisty as always. Make sure you bring her by sometime, I would love to have a little fun with her.”

Diana rolled her eyes and smirked. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.” They both knew that Diana was incapable of sharing any little toy she had.

Dama smiled at Diana. “Same as always, I see—so selfish, but I suppose outside of taking her as my own, I won’t be seeing anything.” Her tongue licked across her lips as a yellow glint shone in her eye. “The outfit will be done tomorrow for your examination. I already have a very good idea for it.”

Sammi ran her fingers through her dark green hair. The smell of Jasmine’s – was that her name? – shampoo clung to her hair. The yellow shirt was too small for her. It exposed her naval, and she could feel her nipples rubbing against the fabric. Did she forget her bra again? The skirt wasn’t hers either – at least, she couldn’t remember owning any plaid skirts. The thong digging into her ass was too small, not hers either. The heels were hers, though. They were her stripper heels. That was about all that she left on after stripping anyways.

She lounged on her couch. At least she knew this was her apartment. Though, sometimes she woke up at one of their places. She almost wanted to stay in Jasmine’s bed and just claim the girl again, but a shower and trading some clothes sufficed in her panic.

Every night she was going out to a club and leaving with some girl. She would seduce a random girl who caught her eye, make them take her home, and then give them a wild night. On the morning after, she would wake up before them, take a shower, and do the clothes shuffle in desperation to escape before the girl awoke. She must have lost half of her clothes to replace them with ones that just didn’t fit.

She sighed. She couldn’t get the smell of that girl out of her hair or off her new clothes. The girl had worn this thong before. Maybe she had seduced other girls like Sammi did. Maybe she had worn this while having sex. She didn’t know, and she regretted that she would never find out.

There was a knock on the door.

Sammi furrowed her brow, wondering if maybe one of the girls had found her. She answered the door to see a short girl looking up at her in what had to be the most revealing postal girl outfit Sammi had ever seen. The top didn’t have sleeves and just rested on her breasts. The shorts were hardly even covering her ass. Sammi swore she could see the girl’s nipples through the top.

“Special delivery for Sammi Sanford,” the girl said.

Sammi had trouble not staring down the girl’s cleavage. “I’m Sammi Sanford,” she said while just managing to keep eye contact.

The girl edged a long, wide, but thin, box from beside the door and pushed it onto Sammi. “Well, here’s your package. Looks fun!”

Sammi didn’t respond. She struggled to get the package inside her house, awkwardly fumbling with the size. What could it be? She checked the sender name. Dama. Sammi blinked a few times and checked to make sure she read that right. It still had Dama printed on the outside.

“No way,” she said to herself. She shook her head, it was obviously a joke. Dama’s outfits were outrageously expensive, and she only made outfits personally for high end clients. Still, it had her signature on it. Sammi shrugged and put the package against the wall. She carefully opened it, and her jaw dropped.

She stared in absolute disbelief. It was definitely something from Dama. No other designer could approach the the beauty of any of her outfits. This one spoke to Sammi – she could tell instantly that it was made for her. She traced a finger down the nearly transparent dress and felt a shiver run up her spine. She had to wear it. Now.

Sammi pulled off all of Jasmine’s clothes and kicked her heels away. She reached into the box and pulled out a bra. It almost made her blush it was so tiny. The strings were hardly there, but knowing Dama only made the highest quality clothing, she gave it a little tug. It was firm and strong, though Sammi couldn’t figure out what exactly it was made of. It felt like silk, but it was glossy, just enough so that it wasn’t actually see-through. She put it on, tying it around her chest since it didn’t have shoulder straps. She struggled to make her breasts fit inside the bra and worried that it might pop off, but after bending back and forth, she realized just how strong the thin cloth was.

She looked down into her cleavage. The bra made her breasts look bigger, and somehow, the bra wasn’t uncomfortable in the slightest. She could feel her nipples pressing against it, but they didn’t show through on the other side of the cloth. Sammi couldn’t help but think of how she could just move slightly and stimulate her nipples, and no one would ever realize it. These clothes were definitely made with her in mind.

She felt heat rise to her face. She had to put the rest on. Her nipples were already screaming with sensitivity. She prayed that the rest of the clothes would be similar.

Sammi searched through the package again, finding a cute, solid green g-string that had all the sheen of latex yet felt like silk. She stepped into it and pulled it up against her freshly waxed crotch. She savored the cool, refreshing feeling of the silk against her. The g-string appeared to hug her hips loosely, but it was actually on quite tight. She could feel an itch of constant stimulation against her clit, engorging it. Every step she took rubbed her clit against the tight cloth, making her constantly aroused.

Sammi licked her lips. She loved the feeling of just the underwear. She wanted to put on the rest, even though it was so tempting to just start fingering herself. Sammi shook the feeling off, she had to put the rest of the outfit on. That was far more important than pleasing herself right now.

There was a pair of socks, thigh highs, that looked like they had been made of the most delicate silk ever and just for her. The opaque green was decorated with little hearts starting from the top of the foot and circling up the leg. There were even individual slots for her toes.

Her heart raced. She could still feel her nipples and clit rubbing against the fabric. It wasn’t going to get her off, but it felt like she would never know a minute without stimulation ever again. She wriggled her first leg into the sock. It tickled and teased her the entire way up as it stretched to her upper thigh, leaving almost her entire leg clad in green.

She couldn’t help but wiggle her toes, loving how they rubbed against each other through the cloth. There was a teasing all over her legs, like there were fingertips tracing up and down on every spot of her leg at once. She found herself giggling while she put on the other one, unable to keep from smiling.

She wiggled all of her toes, the smile stuck on her face. Only the dress was left. She hummed as she walked over to it, taking it from the case and admiring it in her hands. It looked like the fabric had always been this way, without any taint from a seam. It was the same green as the socks, but slightly less transparent. She greedily put it on, sliding in over her head.

The dress rested on her shoulders, exposing her neck and the very top of her cleavage before it closed. Immediately after passing her breasts, the dress opened up wide again, regulating itself to her sides and exposing her naval. It came together again at her hips and formed into a knee length skirt.

Sammi stared off into space as a place came to mind. The stimulation on her nipples and her clit dulled enough to allow her to think clearly. She picked up her keys, put on her heels, did her makeup, and left her house.

Sammi shook herself awake and looked around. She was in an apartment building’s lobby. A fancy one, at that. A girl sat behind a desk, her mouth open. Sammi had the sense that she had been here before, but she couldn’t quite remember when. She felt the answer on the tip of her tongue, but couldn’t verbalize it.

“What room are you looking for?” the girl at the desk asked.

“I need to go to Diana Edger’s room. I believe she sent a message down to you?” Sammi said suddenly. Why had she said that? It didn’t seem to be her that was speaking, but just her body.

“Oh, yes. Take this key,” she held up a key “and use it in the elevator. It’ll take you to the top floor.”

Sammi strolled across the room while listening to the echoes of her own heels. She knew the name Diana, but it was muddled. She got the feeling that she wasn’t supposed to remember the name and forgot about it. She took the key and walked to the elevator.

It opened before she even pressed the button. A woman with a tuxedo top that wasn’t buttoned up all the way, exposing her ample cleavage, and a flowing black ballgown emerged from it. Sammi looked the woman in the eyes, taken aback by the predacious look in them. Sammi couldn’t move as her bright green eyes were enraptured by the yellow ones looking at her.

Sammi could see the woman’s gown moving at the edge of her vision. It crawled across the floor, changing shape into cloth tendrils as it neared her. They were within a foot of her, and still she could not move. She couldn’t decipher if this was fear, or if the woman before her had some sort of control over her.

As the tendrils made their last movement and prepared to wrap her up, Sammi broke free of her entrapment and hopped backward. Finding herself nearly ten feet away, Sammi took a breath of air and tried to concentrate on the woman in front of her.

“Oh, fiddlesticks,” the woman said. “I thought I was going to be able to get you without the risk of tearing that lovely outfit of yours.” She took a step forward, clearing her dress from the elevator. “I guess Imprint made your commands a bit more specific than I assumed. Still, I wonder what does work? Maybe I just...” the woman paused, and when she spoke again, her voice had changed completely, “...do this, you won’t struggle so much?”

Sammi froze again. That voice had some sort of power over her.

“I see, so it does work.” The woman pointed toward the horrified girl who was hiding behind her desk. The cloth tendrils went after her, wrapping her up and muffling her before dragging her over. “Let me show you what I can offer Sammi—Oh, no. I don’t want to call you that. It’s not an appropriate name for someone like you. Let me show you what I can offer you, Samba.”

Sammi’s eyes widened. How did this woman know her stripper name?

The girl was now in the woman’s arms. Her basic suit was transformed into a fetish version. A short skirt that wasn’t even going past her ass, a top that presented her cleavage, and dark pantyhose with high heels. The girl continued to panic, well aware of what was going on.

“See, watch how she struggles. She can’t accept this sexy new outfit. But, well, just wait a minute.” Time ticked slowly. The girl’s face went slack as the woman embraced her. They stayed in that embrace for a minute, and then the woman let her go. The girl took a few steps away from her, smiled, giggled, then returned to her desk. “And now she’s what she’s dressed like. A sexy little secretary.”

Sammi took a step away from the woman. She was crazy.

“Now Samba, that’s no way to treat the wondrous Seamstress. I’ll only bring you a night of pleasure, then let you go. That’s what you like to do, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Liar. Now what were those words.... Oh, right! Samba the Fetish Filled Stripper.”

Sammi gasped. The world almost seemed to change around her. The g-string teasing her clit jumped to the front of her mind, just to be replaced by the bra teasing her nipples, which was replaced by the feeling of the socks on her legs. She looked at the woman and couldn’t stop staring. Her ballgown, her face, her breasts, everything about her turned Sammi’s mind into a melting pot of sex.

“Too much? I think that gave you ten fetishes. If you cooperate, I’ll let you experience some of them. Oh, you’re just going to love bondage.”

Sammi’s heart skipped a beat. This woman could tie her up with those straps of clothes, spank her, dress her up – she could do anything, and Sammi wanted it all.

Sammi clutched her head and shook it. She couldn’t fall into this. There had to be a way to escape. The ever present beat in her head quickened. It became louder to the point where it started physically shaking her.

Seamstress grinned as cloth wrapped around Sammi’s ankles. She tried to move, but the cloth wasn’t letting her go. Seamstress stood right before her, and two other strips of cloth bent her arms behind her and locked them in place.

Sammi’s pussy gushed. She couldn’t move. Blood rushed to her face, turning it a deep crimson. Her arousal spiked so much she felt sick.

“Enjoying it that much?” Seamstress was smiling ear to ear. “What’s that other one she gave – that one to make you really helpless?” She dragged a nail across her shirt, opening it and letting her breasts spill out. They enlarged and plumped up, looking very juicy. “Breast feeding, I think it was? How about you take a drink, hm?”

The cloth didn’t give Sammi a choice in the matter. It forced her down onto Seamstress’s ridiculously soft breasts. Sammi pouted, unable to stop herself from gripping a nipple between her lips. She started to suckle.

“Oh, yes. I hate doing this to my body, but Zen loves it. Apparently, Imprint does too. I’ll have to remember that for next time.” Seamstress gasped as milk started flowing out of her nipples. It was just a little at first, but the flow was steady.

Sammi cursed herself. She loved the taste, and she could feel her pussy dripping like a leaky faucet.

“It seems you need a little push,” a small voice said.

A beat thundered through Sammi’s head. She groaned and jammed her eyes shut. The milk flowing into her mouth didn’t seem as arousing anymore. She stopped suckling.

“Oh? What’s this? Are you full already?” Seamstress sounded disappointed. “You have to drink more to grow big and strong. Maybe if you like it enough, I’ll give you big breasts so you can feed Zen. Would you like that?”

“My breasts are big enough,” Sammi said and started to struggled. The cloth wasn’t letting her go, but at least she didn’t find being trapped sexy. Green light started to emanate from her.

“I see, you can resist Imprint’s fetishes! Well, let’s see how many you can resist at once.” A throne formed under Seamstress as she sat down. The cloth dragged Sammi right between her legs, pressing her mouth against Seamstress’s cunt.

Sammi mewled and pressed closer. Her tongue moved quickly, and her nose started rubbing against Seamstress’s clit. She couldn’t stop herself, it was like a fanatical devotion.

“Ah! Yes, much better!” Seamstress moaned. She squeezed her thighs around Sammi’s head, leaving just a bundle of green hair for the secretary who couldn’t stop staring.

”Again? Really Sammi, you will have to learn how to take care of yourself soon,” the small voice said.

Another beat rumbled through Sammi’s head hard enough that it felt like her skull had just taken a blow. She screamed, though it was muffled by Seamstress’s crotch.

The cloth strips pulled Sammi back. Seamstress examined her. A green aura had started to spread over the girl.

“Interesting.... Tell me, what do you think of these?” Seamstress clapped her hands, and strands of cloth spread over her fingers and in between her hands. She pulled them apart, holding a bright pink thong right in front of Sammi.

Sammi moaned as she looked at it. She could imagine all the places it could go, where it could be. She wanted to just take it.

”So weak, Sammi. You must try harder,” the voice said louder this time.

Sammi’s eyes went wide. It felt like an explosion went off inside her ear. She jerked and shook. She tried desperately to escape from Seamstress’s bindings.

Seamstress dropped Sammi from the bindings, but Sammi couldn’t manage to stay on her feet. She fell over onto her back. “Whatever it is, I think you’ve had it. There is one last easy fetish to show you – the rest requires being a bit more naughty.”

Seamstress walked over Sammi, planting a foot on each side of her. She lifted her foot over Sammi’s face. The heel disappeared revealing a pure white stocking. Sammi squirmed. She could feel what was coming next. Seamstress put just a single toe to Sammi’s lip. The softness of the stocking was all Sammi could think about.

The voice didn’t speak up again.

Sammi whimpered as she kissed Seamstress’s socked toe. The silk against her lips felt softer than anything she had ever touched. She could feel her pussy getting wet, slick against her g-string.

“Good girl.” Seamstress sat back, her dress forming into a cloth throne under her again. “Now move your legs out from under my chair and show me how well you can worship my stockings.” She pulled her foot away from Sammi’s face, eyeing the girl. “Imprint did good work to make the fetish this strong. I wonder if she has some secret herself, or maybe she knows you’re the one with a secret, hm?”

Sammi dragged herself out from under Seamstress’s throne. She started to kiss up the woman’s legs, letting her head fall under the woman’s dress. She didn’t care anymore. She had to stay touching the warm cloth.

“Maybe you already had a sock fetish?”

Sammi couldn’t answer. She dragged her tongue up Seamstress’s leg before sliding her cheek down. She let her eyes glaze over as her pussy dripped.

“But socks.... That’s such an awkward fetish. What do I do? Just rub my legs against your face? Do I use my toes to play with your little snatch? Maybe you’d like to suck on them instead?” Seamstress grinned. She loved figuring out new fetishes, especially if they were clothing related.

Sammi nuzzled all the way up Seamstress’s thigh before kissing a straight line back down.

“Yes. That’s what I’ll have you do. Suck on my toes girl.”

Sammi did as she was told with a blissful sigh. She dropped all the way to the floor and took one of Seamstress’s toes into her mouth. She suckled on it like a good girl, hoping she would be rewarded. Seamstress’s other foot started to rub against her cheek. She only sighed deeper as her hand found its way between her legs. She started to finger herself, egged on by Seamstress’s clumsy rubbing. She didn’t even care that Seamstress hardly had any idea what she was doing. The socks themselves were of a perfect quality, soft and fluffy, yet somehow smooth and not at all scratchy. She could feel the heat from Seamstress’s foot radiating through.

The sock didn’t seem to give any slack on Seamstress’s legs either. They stayed up perfectly, conforming to every one of her curves. Every delicious part of her leg. Sammi’s fingers were working faster in her own cunt, never slowing down. She just wanted this forever.

“Is that how you want to end up?” the small voice penetrated Sammi’s head. “Dancing from that position will be hard.”

Sammi didn’t care. She just wanted to enjoy what was in front of her. She rubbed back against Seamstress’s taunting foot. She looked up to make eye contact, noting the yellow gleam in the woman’s eyes. Her own must have looked passionate. There were other plans for Sammi tonight, but for now she just wanted to enjoy this.

“You know what she will do to you, yes? She will lock you in a cage, keep you forever. You will dance to only her beat and never your own. Is that how you want to end up?” the voice continued. It wasn’t going to leave her alone. “How can I convince you to stand back up?”

Sammi furrowed her brow and mentally told the voice to shut up. The cloth in her mouth and against her face was causing her to trap her hand between her thighs. She just wanted to focus on the feeling between her legs and the socks on her feet.

“If you dance with her, you could share your new love. With her powers, imagine the joy she could bring you both.”

Sammi’s eyes focused. That was a great idea. She looked up at Seamstress again, but the domineering eyes looking down at her made her shudder and keep nuzzling.

“Why are you afraid? You are powerful. You could have her powers too. Give her what she wants. Show her a wild time. She’ll love you for it.” The voice was becoming stronger. It sounded familiar. “It’s what she wants, after all. You would be able to feel it if you listened closer.”

What she wanted? Sammi looked back up at Seamstress, the same yellow eyes dug into her. Was all that the woman wanted some wild sex?

“Yes. That is right. Please her, worship her, give her the night she desires. That is my power, Sammi.”

“Your power?” Sammi asked.

Seamstress started to pulsate a green light. Her features changed, and someone was looking down on her. Long green hair, radiant green eyes, and some of the best lips Sammi had ever seen. Blonde locks fell in front of Sammi’s face, as if they had never changed when Sammi’s powers awoken. She was looking at herself, she realized.

“From down there, you cannot do anything. You have to get up on your own.”

Sammi pouted at Samba. She wasn’t being fair. Her legs were still inviting, and the toe in her mouth tasted even better. She was never going to be able to escape this situation.

“Silly girl,” Samba’s voice was soft and playful. “You are far too adorable like this to free you from it forever. I will always been watching you from the inside as you melt from just a pair of socks. One day, I will want to see you walk into a lingerie store. You simply must not give yourself up now.”

Sammi focused. She pulled Samba’s toe out of her mouth. Instantly, she felt like a piece of herself had gone with that toe. She missed it.

But she wouldn’t lose. She shook her head and rolled away before standing up. When she looked back toward Samba, Seamstress was in her place.

“Eh?” Seamstress said. “You escaped? Really?” A smile spread across her lips. “But you’re dripping wet. Don’t you want to come back down here? I’ll rub against your pussy this time.”

Sammi blushed. She considered the offer for a second before shaking her head. She could feel a beat in her head, pushing her forward. The beat echoed around the room, and she could feel the two other women. Seamstress’s beat was wild and powerful, uncontrolled in its speed. It was layered, too, on the top melodious, graceful, and beautiful, but below that it was steady, smooth, and comforting. Sammi could feel a nurturing side of Seamstress that she wanted to embrace, but that wasn’t the beat to appeal to for now. It was that wildness that Seamstress wanted.

The secretary’s beat was distorted, and Sammi could only hear it through Seamstress’s.

Sammi started to walk toward Seamstress, each step slow and careful, shaking her hips from side to side.

“Don’t plan on escaping? That’s just fine. I’ll capture you and take you back to my place where we can have more fun.” Seamstress’s throne turned back into the billowing dress. A cloth tendril erupted from it, drawing the thread as far as it could go.

Sammi spun at the last second. The tendril tried to wrap around her from behind, but she ducked as if she knew it was coming. More tendrils reached from the dress in their attempts to capture the dancer. Each time she moved at the last second. She was even able to avoid all of them at once, gracefully leaping over the mess to land right in front of Seamstress.

Seamstress’s eyes opened wide as she desperately retracted the cloth back into her dress. Sammi reached out and held her chin up before planting a wet kiss on the woman’s mouth. Seamstress was stunned and fell slack against the kiss.

Sammi’s fingers laced with Seamstress’s, and she started to guide the woman into a dance. They shared the kiss, green eyes merely inches away from yellow ones.

Sammi could feel it. The wildness in Seamstress was growing. She would pounce when it overcame her. Sammi would falter and be the victim of Seamstress’s carnal ravaging, but she knew she would enjoy it. She could already feel their beats mixing together, rolling about and colliding with one another, refusing to really combine.

But Seamstress’s eyes opened wide, and she pushed Sammi away. She could see the green aura that had spread across her. It was all the way up her arms and legs, slowly closing in on her torso.

“What is this?” she asked. “No, this is what you did to Imprint. I can’t let that happen to me.” She shook her head. Her beat fluctuated. The calm and careful side was overpowering the wild side. She laughed before giving a curtsy to Sammi. “You’ve escaped me this time, but next time you won’t get the same chance.”

Sammi frowned. “Next time, we will dance until you’re satisfied. Maybe you will not be afraid of losing just a little control then.”

Seamstress grinned. “Keep that ass free from anyone else. When they find out what you can do, they’re going to try and take it. It’s so tight, too. I’m a bit disappointed that I won’t be taking it tonight. Though, that secretary was good. Maybe she’ll show you a good time.”

Sammi just smiled.

“And Samba, I will have you yet. I’ll make a special outfit, just for you.” She grinned, her wild side was flaring up again as Sammi’s aura started to fade. She waltzed out of the door, her breasts returning to normal size and still grinning.

Sammi sighed. She had gotten so worked up and was prepared to follow Seamstress’s beat to the end. She gasped as she found a hand inside her g-string.

“Disappointed, you silly girl?” she heard Samba say.

Fingers entered her slit. “What are you doing?”

“It is not me. Seamstress gave the secretary an extra command. If you had focused on her, you would have seen it. Those other fetishes are still part of you, though, without Seamstress around, you might not find out what they are.”

Sammi’s hands were bent behind her, and she heard something locking.

“You are so young and inexperienced. It really is cute, but that woman is not as tame as me. Even if she does not get to subjugate you, she will find a way for someone to. Just be thankful she is only going to put some vibrators in you and delay you for a bit”

Sammi started to struggle much harder. She turned to see the secretary, giggling wildly, with a vibrator in each hand. She continued to giggle as she slipped one into Sammi’s sopping pussy and turned it on. Sammi’s hips tried to squeeze it out of her, but it wasn’t going anywhere.

“Like, sorry about this, but it’s my job! Uhm, I also have to, like, put you in a closet too. The batteries will only, like, last two or three hours. You’ll just have to enjoy it till then!” She was wiggling something against Sammi’s ass now.

“Wait! No, no, not there!” Sammi pleaded. Her arousal was spiking again. Was this one of the other fetishes? She had never liked her ass being touched before.

“Huuh? Does it feel that good? Maybe I should get something a bit bigger!” The secretary stopped wiggling whatever it was against Sammi’s ass and dragged her over to her desk. She bent her over and gave Sammi a spank that made her arousal soar even higher. “Oh? You like spankings too? This is, like, sooooo much fun!”

The secretary went to the other side of her desk and opened a drawer. Sammi looked on in a mix of horror and pure lust as the girl took out a strap-on with little bumps all over it and lube.

“N-No, hey, let me go, don’t use that on me, okay?”

The secretary looked at her and just shook her head. “No way! I’m totally gonna fuck your ass!” She even giggled to make the point clear. She fitted the strap-on under her skirt and lubed it up right in front of Sammi.

Sammi lifted herself off the desk and turned around, prepared to make a dash for the exit.

“Oh, like, now, it’s going to be so much worse!” she heard the secretary giggle. She didn’t even have a chance to move before the girl grabbed the back of her top and spun her around. She bent her over the desk again, this time pushing down harsher. She pulled up on Sammi’s g-string, making the fabric rub against Sammi’s wet pussy before she pulled it down.

Sammi didn’t even have time to brace herself as the secretary lined the strap-on up with her ass and slowly slid it in. Sammi grunted. She could feel a shortness in breath as it just slid in deeper. The little bumps teased the ridge and insides. “Nooo... stop...!” she whined.

“Like, no way!” The secretary was proud of herself as she buried the strap-on all the way to the hilt. She started to pump it in and out while pressing Sammi against the desk. “Bzzzz~ Don’t forget the vibrator in your cute cunt!”

As if she could if she tried. The strap-on was pushing harder on her insides, making the vibrator feel tighter in her pussy. She shook her head as she felt her knees give out, but even that didn’t matter. Between the secretary fucking her ass and being pressed against the desk, Sammi had nowhere to go. What bothered her more was that this was turning her on so much.

“Aaaah!” Sammi screamed as a first orgasm took her. Juices drained down her thighs, seeping into her stockings. They were going to smell like sex, Sammi just knew it, and she couldn’t wait to rub them across her face before washing the smell out. “Stop! It’s too much, stop!”

The secretary kept going. She didn’t slow down a bit. Of course, she was used to thrusting – she had a strap-on in her desk!

“Come on, stop being lazy, press back!” The secretary slapped Sammi’s ass.

Sammi rose her head in another moan and found herself pressing back and following the rhythm of the secretary. She didn’t even know the girl’s name. That wasn’t too unusual, she didn’t know most of the girls’ names who she slept with. She had never been the one getting taken for a ride though.

“That’s better!” the secretary said but slapped Sammi’s ass anyways.

Sammi clenched against the vibrator again, more juices leaking out from her. Everything was becoming a haze.

Eventually, the secretary stopped and fell onto Sammi’s back, pushing the strap-on deeper inside of her. Sammi gasped and squirmed under the added weight. “Phew. You’re, like, so lucky no one came in to see the look on your face. If only I had a mirror or something!” she giggled.

“Ugh...” was all Sammi could reply with. She felt used up and in need of a shower. She had never even gotten the chance to match the girl’s beat with her own, her mind was too out of it.

“But, like, now what I was ordered to do!” The secretary pushed off of Sammi and removed the strap-on from her ass just to replace it with a vibrator.

“Hey... come on, give me a break,” Sammi whined.

“Nope! You’re going in the closet for, like, three hours or something. I dunno. I think that’s how long the batteries will last. Then I’ll let you out, ‘kay?” She pushed it deep into Sammi’s ass and turned it on high.

“No!!!” Sammi squealed. The vibrators were working her insides on the highest setting. Her knees wobbled. “No! Stop this!” The secretary pulled Sammi’s g-string back up too hard, wedging the front between her pussy lips.

“Like, hush!” the secretary said as she stuffed her pantyhose into Sammi’s mouth and started leading her away. She kept pushing the vibrator in her rear deeper in.

Sammi couldn’t get the pantyhose out of her mouth, they were balled too tight, and she could barely move her jaw. She couldn’t even scream anymore.

The secretary led her to a closet and giggled as she opened the door. “Like, it’s comfy in there, don’t worry. You can thrash about all you want, but it’s locked for three hours! Then I’ll come and set you free and junk.”

The secretary pushed her into the dark closet. Sammi fell on what felt like an assortment of pillows. The door slammed, and a little light turned on. Sammi could just make it out in the dim light – there was a camera lens.

That made it more exciting. Exhibitionism must’ve been something that was imprinted. Sammi cursed herself again as her mind fogged over with a sexual haze.

She struggled and started to thrash about as orgasm after orgasm came from the vibrators in her pussy and ass combined with the pantyhose in her mouth. She couldn’t wrap her head around any of it, only somewhat realizing that Seamstress was getting this all on tape.