The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Three months have passed, thank God. I’m beginning my final semester of classes. It will be a heavy load, but now that I have the MS Internship out of the way, I can just hunker down and be a student again for one last semester. Feels good.

I am a little late for class, but I need to make a phone call. Noting the chillier September winds, I hurry across campus, heading for the Student Union. I can use a privacy room to make a phone call there.

Three minutes later, the secretary at Lamber and Miller is patching me through to Christy Miller, my lawyer. I like Christy. She’s, like thirty years older than I am, but she and I get along like sisters.

“Hi Jess,” Christy says brightly once my call is connected. “How’re things?”

“Great,” I say honestly. “Just wanted to check in.”

My attorney gets down to business. “Things are looking pretty good,” she tells me. “The slimeballs’ new office is done, and they’re moving in today. They’re complaining like my mother-in-law, but they’re complying.”

I smile, letting out a sigh I hadn’t realized I was holding in. The “slimeballs,” of course, are Tuck and Bratt. Christy has them corralled like sheep.

Mere hours after assaulting Tuck and Bratt’s balls, I retained Christy. It was the single smartest thing I could have done. Her firm specializes in sex assault cases. Aghast at my tale, Christy immediately had me take a rape kit, which confirmed that Tuck had entered me. Between that and my broadcast performance while hypnotized, we had all the evidence we needed to threaten WWGX with the mother of all lawsuits.

(Of course, Christy and I don’t have an actual recording of the show where I was under hypnosis, but stupid Tuck and Bratt don’t know that. They now live in fear that my take-no-prisoners lawyer and I will pulverize them in court or in the court of public opinion.)

Christy and I run “Tuck and Bratt in the PM” now. The first thing we did was hire real hypnotherapists to de-hypnotize all the staffers. Most of the ladies kinda knew they were hired for their tits and quietly accepted a nice severance package. But stupid Bratt got two other staffers pregnant, so I guess he’s off dealing with that.

I also saw to it that the seventh floor of 646 Maple was bulldozed, scrubbed, and then rebuilt as a proper, working office. No more cramped cubicle hell. No more mancave penthouses. Now everyone works from their own open, spacious desk, and there’s equal room for all.

Oh, and there’s one more important change on the show. Tuck and Bratt hired three guys I know to come on board and serve as real executive producers. Jesse, Frank, and Horace were a little rusty at first, but they discovered a knack for building a show that’s still raunchy, offensive, and sexist… but at least it is competently produced. Ratings are up. In a month, I’ll be able to step away entirely, and the show is their baby.

“Sounds good,” I smile as Christy finishes her update. “Now just send me your bill.”

“Relax,” responds Christy. “Your brothers already paid me. You just focus on your schoolwork. I’m awaiting your first radio program with bated breath.”

I blush, thank her, and hang up. Now to hurry off to class.

I know what you’re thinking. I should have sued Tuck and Bratt for millions, then flown off to my own private island, right?

I considered it, I’ll admit. But that would have meant that I alone would have profited, and there were lots of other people in the mix here. Forcing Tuck and Bratt to make a proper radio program without the hypnotized sex slaves, well, it just helps everyone.

Sometimes the big picture is about more than just you.

Four hours later, I arrive home. I have some studying to do, but I need to pause for a moment before I hit the books.

In the TV room, my mom is resting on the couch, watching Wheel of Fortune. She’s exhausted, but there’s a little color in her cheeks. I break into a smile when she looks up at me.

“Hi honey…” she murmurs. “I tried… to stay awake to see you.”

I kneel before her, putting a hand against her forehead. “You should be sleeping, Mom,” I chide her. I click the TV off.

Now that Jesse, Frank, and Horace are fully employed, we have long-term benefits again. Mom’s responding well to treatments. She’s actually given up cigarettes, because, well, we have hope now. But there’s still a long way to go.

“You… look… nice…” my mother breathes. Her eyes close and her smile fades as she drifts off to sleep.

I smile, my eyes bright with tears. I kiss her on the forehead, and then hurry off to study.