There was Something Strange Going on at the Office

"Open your eyes, Jenna. Look at the screen," he said. She could barely hear him over the static, but she found the idea just so hard to resist. She slowly released the tension in her eyelids and allowed them to softly open.

The screen was so beautiful. Swirling patterns drew her gaze right to the centre, but she could never quite reach it. Her eyes kept shifting around in a tiny spot near the middle, forever trying to lock on to something that wasn't there. He hit the keyboard again and the intensity of the buzzing increased.

"Jenna, I need you to let go of all the stress in your body. You're so tense right now," he said, as he ran his hands across her shoulders. "Just relax." That sounded like such a wonderful idea. She should just relax. "You can feel all of your concerns drifting away. There's no need to worry about anything anymore, Jenna. You're safe here. We're going to take care of everything for you. Take a deep breath in for me. Good. And as you let it go, you'll feel even more relaxed and calm." It was true. When she let that breath out she felt so good. She couldn't remember ever feeling so calm and relaxed.

It went on like that for a few more minutes. Jenna was completely checked out. She was calm, content, and ready to listen to whatever anybody had to say to her. She didn't even notice the thin trail of drool leaking out of her mouth.

"Jenna," he continued, "I need you to think about yourself now, is that ok?" She nodded subtly. It was so much effort to make any movements. "Good. Imagine you're standing in the bathroom. You're looking at yourself in the mirror. What do you think when you see yourself in the mirror?"

"I see... I'm old. I'm getting older every day."

"How old are you, Jenna?"

"I'm 29. Nearly 30," she replied. Mark was only partially successful in suppressing a laugh.

"That's not old, Jenna." She didn't reply. "What else do you see?"

"I'm not as thin as I used to be. It's so hard to keep fit, so a lot of the time I don't bother trying."

"And?"

"I don't like my face. It's so ugly. My nose is too big. People used to tease me about it in high school. All the time."

"Just like last time, Jenna, I'm going to say things to you. And when I say 'Repeat', you'll repeat the phrase back to me. Do you remember this from last time, Jenna?"

"No."

"But will you do it anyway?"

"Yes."

"Jenna, do you trust me?"

"I... no. I don't trust you." she replied.

"You trust me. Repeat."

She repeated the phrase to him. And then again. And then again. And then again. Eventually, the words started to seem almost plausible. Why would she trust this man who she knew was trying to brainwash her? And yet, increasingly, she found that she almost did.

"I trust you. I trust you. I trust you. I trust you".

She trusted him. Almost completely. If she were to compile a list of the most trustworthy people she knew in the entire world, Mark would now easily be in the top 3.

"You value my opinion. It's worth more than everybody else. Don't you?"

"I..."

"You value my opinion because it's worth more than everybody else's. Repeat."

She repeated it back to him. Then again. Then again. This, too, started taking root inside her mind. His opinion was a lot more valuable than anyone else's.

"When I look at you, Jenna, what I see is a pretty girl. Do you understand what that means, Jenna?"

"No."

"You do trust me and value my opinion, don't you?"

"I trust you. Your opinion is worth more than everybody else's."

"That's right, Jenna. So if I think you're pretty, you'd trust that opinion, wouldn't you."

"Yes, I would."

"You're pretty, Jenna."

"I'm... pretty?"

"You're very pretty. Repeat."

"I'm very pretty. I'm very pretty. I'm very pretty. I'm very pretty. I'm very pretty. I'm very pretty. I'm very pretty. I'm very pretty..."

"Good, Jenna. Now tell me, what do pretty girls do when they're told to do something?"

"Pretty girls do as they're told."

"Yes, that's very good. And are you a pretty girl?"

"I'm very pretty."

"So if I told you to do something, what would you do?"

"I would do as I'm told."

Mark let out a joyous yelp, completely breaking character with his confident hypnotist routine. He quickly composed himself again.

"That's excellent, Jenna." He turned the screen off and pushed it away. He ran around and typed furiously on the keyboard. The headphones died down.

"Now Jenna," he said, "I'm going to tell you to do some things, and you're going to do them."

"Pretty girls do as they're told," she replied.

"And why is it that pretty girls do as they're told?"

"Pretty girls feel so good when they do as they're told."

"That's so good, Jenna. That's really excellent. Now stand up, and take the headphones off, we'll finish this off later. You're going to remain in this calm, blissful state that you're in now. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes."

"Good. Call me sir when you respond to my instructions, Jenna."

"Yes Sir."

Jenna felt like she was back in her dreams again. But it felt better than the dreams. Oh so much better. He commanded her to make out with him, and she did. She had never been so happy to comply. He commanded her to undress him, and although it took a lot longer than in her dreams, she still got there in the end. He commanded her to pleasure him, and she was so, so eager to please. She did what she was told.

"Like this, sir?" she said, stroking and teasing his cock gently with her hand and lips.

"Mmmm," he said, letting out a sigh. "Keep going."

She had a fair degree of experience, and she'd never found it particularly difficult to please men. Mark was loving every second of it.

"Are you on the pill?" he asked.

"No Sir."

"Well then we better not risk anything. Make me come with your mouth. No hands."

She had never done that before, but he had told her to do it, and she would do as she was told, just like any other pretty girl. She put her hands down onto the ground for stability and redoubled her oral efforts. She licked it, and took it down her throat as best she could. Her neck was sore from the rhythm, but she was determined to do as she was told and make him come. It took her another few minutes, but eventually she felt the spasms inside her mouth, and he shot his come across her tongue.

"Swallow," he said. She did as she was told.

Please say the words, she thought to herself. Please...

"Good girl," he said. She rocked back, writhing with pleasure. It was everything she'd remembered, and more. It wasn't just something she heard through a wall. It was directed at her. She had been a Good Girl for him. Her muscles were locked up, her pussy spasmed, her eyes rolled back in her head. She couldn't move for the next thirty seconds. The thought of being a Good Girl for him was beyond compare. He reached down and kissed her on the head.

"Maybe they'll let me keep you," he said.

Jenna was on cloud nine. The absolute rush of bliss slowly subsided, but Jenna was so happy that he'd chosen her to please him. She hoped she could be his Good Girl forever.

Epilogue

Jenna had spent twenty minutes in the bathroom touching up her hair and makeup, and she wasn't the only one. Pretty girls should always try to look their best. For somebody as important and respected as Mister Brown, that went doubly so. All of the pretty girls from the second floor were standing at attention outside the elevator in two straight lines, anxiously awaiting an opportunity to do as they're told. None were more eager than Jenna.

At ten forty-seven, the elevator dinged. All of the pretty girls tensed up in anticipation. The doors slid open, revealing four men and one pretty girl.

"Girls, this is Mister Brown," said Nathan. The group let out a collective sigh, a wave of respect washing over them as they finally realised who it was that was so important to them all.

Mister Brown looked a little younger than Mister Grey and a lot more fit, although even Mister Grey seemed much more appealing to Jenna's eyes today. They were both just so... superior. I would do anything to please my superiors, she thought to herself.

"I see you have been making some progress after all," said Mister Brown, slowly walking up the line of pretty girls and inspecting them closely.

"Yes sir," said Mister Grey. "We've had a successful deployment to all of the girls we selected for the program."

"All the girls?"

"Yes sir, a complete uptake," said Nathan.

"No complications?"

"Just a minor glitch in the wording, sir. We've already corrected it. The process itself hasn't failed on us so far."

"That's excellent," Mister Brown replied, evidently surprised. "I still expect to see a full report on this, of course. And I'll need to see your preparations for phase two."

The process, Jenna thought to herself, instantly turned on at the memory of yesterday. Being tied to the chair, unable to move. The skull piercing sound, the pattern on the screen, and most of all doing what she was told. She bit her lip and blushed at the memories. Mister Brown was staring right at her.

"I think this one likes me," he said, chuckling slightly. Jenna blushed even harder. "What's her name?"

"Jemma, I believe," said Mister Grey.

"Uh, it's Jenna sir," interjected Nathan.

"Jemma," Mister Brown said, tasting the word and ignoring Nathan. "I like her," he continued. Gives me a bit of a 'Fleabag' vibe, don't you think? Phoebe what's-her-face?" he said, turning to the pretty girl next to him.

"As you say, sir" she replied.

"Take me to your desk, Jemma," Mister Brown said. "I want to see where you work."

* * *

"Oh yes, oh yes sir, I need it so bad," said Jemma, gasping for air and firmly gripping the desk she was bent over. Mister Brown interrupted his thrusting to plant a kiss on the back of her neck. It sent a shiver down her spine. He continued, each stroke rattling the desk. She matched each with enthusiasm, but was careful not to push him too hard. She wanted to stretch out the encounter – she'd do anything to please her superiors, and intended to please Mister Brown for as long as possible. If she did a good job, he might even say those wonderful, incredible words to her.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the nameplate on the top of her desk and frowned. I'm going to have to get that corrected.