The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive
Author: Dou7gx
Story: Quality Controls

Disclaimer: This work is copyright to Dou7g, so no reposting without his permission, yo. This work was commissioned by a patron, who wishes to remain anonymous, without whom this work would not exist. He emailed me the idea, and was willing to pay a small fee for the creating of this work. He also graciously allowed me to share this with the fetish community via Simon’s wonderful site. Anyone else who has a story idea and wants a custom story email me at .

I’m a hotel detective, kind of like in the They Might Be Giants song. And yeah, my boyfriend gets off on it: what can you do? But not like in the Private Eye noir novels, I’m not a rent a cop employed by the hotel, waiting to be bribed or conned by the local shamus, I’m an undercover agent for the FBI, investigating fraud or racketeering at hotels. So I’m the FBI agent who gets to spend a lot of time, on the clock paid time, lounging around in a bikini. It wasn’t what I’d envisioned while busting my ass in Quantico but fuck it, take the smooth whenever it comes your way.

So I’d been sent to this hotel, the Relax Inn, an upscale joint, supposedly a hideaway for high powered execs to unwind and recuperate from 12 hour days of screwing their employees, but the place in actuality seemed more like a Marti gras atmosphere. They did have first class masseurs and spa facilities though, that much lived up to the brochures.

I was there because there had been complaints of the usual, blackmail of a CEO with incriminating photos, a congressman complaining of the same, a few people who were troubled by blank spots in their memory and suspicion of drug trafficking by the upper management. So I’d taken to spending my days by the pool, afternoons in my room catching up on sleep, and my nights in the clubs and bars on site, hoping to overhear and see some evidence of wrong doing.

The only piece that was out of place, or at least different from other hotels I’d investigated was their quality performance surveys. Instead of at the end of the stay, every day when you first passed the front desk they would give you the survey and ask you to fill it out right then and there. And even at the restaurants and bars, they’d ask you to fill it out before you closed your tab for the evening. And they were also very loose on enforcement of the no smoking policy the state had passed, but that wasn’t so unusual, lots of hotels turned a blind eye to smoking in their clubs and bars, some even registering as smoking clubs so they weren’t covered by the law.

It was afternoon, but I wasn’t ready to sleep yet, so I reviewed the notes I’d taken the night before

Strange conversation last night. I had my back to the bar, so they wouldn’t notice my eavesdropping. They were a man in his late thirties and the bartender, a young woman in her middle 20’s. The man was trying to settle his tab and she was trying to convince him to fill out one of the quality questionnaires.

“C’mon, I’m tired and buzzed. Can’t I fill out this thing tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry, it’s hotel policy that you fill this out when you close out your tab.”

“C’mon, it’s late and I feel terrible, think I’m gonna be sick.”

“How about I help you sir” she said “I’ll read the questions to you and you just tell me your answer. You just say whether you agree a little, not at all or very much. Can you do that for me? It would really help me not get in trouble.” At that point I risked a glace over my shoulder to see the very practiced, very pretty smile she gave him. Predictably he melted.

“I guess, but I still feel a little dizzy.”

“I’ll help you with that too sir. Why don’t you just focus on my cigarette smoke, and I bet you won’t notice how dizzy you feel. I bet the whole world will come into focus and you’ll feel so much better if you focus on the smoke I exhale. Watch it drift and swirl over the bottles and the glasses. Focus on it, can you do that for me.”

“Yeah” the man said in a far away voice.

“Now this is the first question, did you enjoy the service you received tonight?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Good, now remember these are used to evaluate my performance, so it would help me that if you liked something to respond very much, as much as possible. Now keep watching the smoke, watch me inhale and exhale the smoke from my pretty red lips, so soft and glistening in the lights. Watch the smoke as it drifts, inhale the spicy smell and keep focusing on it as it drifts up towards the ceiling. See it swirl around you.”

Her voice was very pleasant and I began to have trouble mentally composing these notes. I had to shake my head and take a long pull of my rum and coke before I resumed listening. She was asking him another question from the form, apparently.

“... did the employee do everything possible to help you relax.”

“Yes, very much” the man said in a voice I could barely hear.

“Did you enjoy submitting to our services?”

“Yes, very much”

“Did our servers take care of your every need?”

“Verry much” he drawled.

“Did they help you to completely relax”

“Yess”

“Would you like to submit to our services again?”

“Verry much” “Thank you” she told him. That finished the questionnaire. You’ve been so good at focusing for me, I really appreciate it. Would you like me to come to your room tonight and show you how much I do appreciate that?”

“Yesss” he replied.

I think if she had asked me I would have said the same thing and I’m not even bi.

I would have to take that last line out of my notes before I submitted those to my chief; otherwise I’d catch hell from the rumour mill. The guys at the HQ would jump my shit at the merest hint they might catch me with another girl.

Men and their fascination with lesbians. Don’t get me wrong, I like the way I look and I find other girls pretty, but they just don’t do it for me. I like guys. And anyway, me and my boyfriend are all exclusive.

So why did I write that in my notes in the first place. There had just been something awfully seductive about the way that girl had been reading the questionnaire. I checked my laundry and sure enough, the panties from last night were soaked. There was something really weird about this place.

I laid down in the bed trying to get some sleep, couldn’t. Needed to be fresh if I was going to back to the bar and try for more evidence. Finally I started touching myself; a little masturbation always helps me fall asleep. I toyed with my clit with my fingertips, running my fingernails over my nipple. My mind wandered back to the bartender, I pictured her inhaling her cigarette, sucking it with her bright red, glossy lips. I heard he voice asking me the questions she’d asked the guy, her voice so seductive. Of course I felt relaxed; yes I wanted to submit to her services. Yes I enjoyed being taken care of, Oh god yes. I came hard, fast and loud. ...

I awoke feeling guilty and a little sore. I wanted to call my boyfriend, but I wasn’t supposed to on assignment. Of course rules were made to be broken, I mean who would know.

“Bob’s abortion clinic, you rape ‘em, we scrape ‘em.” is how he answered the call. He thinks he’s funny.

“Why do you persist in thinking you’re funny?”

“Because I’m certified in three counties. What’s going on baby?”

“I’m on assignment, you know, lounging by the pool, touching myself in the afternoon.”

“I so wish I had your job.”

“Is being a lawyer all that bad? Poor baby.”

“Hey I don’t do it for the money; I do it for the warm fuzzy feeling I get helping wealthy people avoid the consequences of their actions.”

“It’s those kinds of principles that I love you for baby.”

“Well we can’t all fight for social justice in our one piece swimsuits.”

“I wear a bikini, I’ll have you know.” “I’ll remember that next time I’m touching myself.”

“You mean you’re not now.”

“How’d you get so perceptive and shit.”

“It’s being a detective; we’re trained for that kind of thing.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“Not yet you’re not.”

“Sorry baby, I love you.”

“And I’m the hottest piece of ass you ever met.”

“And you’re the hottest piece of ass I ever met.”

“I’ve got you so well trained.”

I hung up the phone with a huge smile on my face. I loved the asshole and it was good to be reminded he loved me. And there was nothing wrong with an odd masturbation fantasy, didn’t mean I was going to cheat on him. It was just a mental image, nothing to worry about. I tried to convince myself I wasn’t rationalizing, but I wasn’t sure I was buying it.

It wasn’t late enough for the bar to be hopping yet, so I went down to the pool for a swim. They had first class facilities, and I enjoyed being seen in my bikini. Blond hair and big boobs do it for most guys, and while I had no intention of cheating on my guy, I like being looked at. I swam laps, enjoying the warm luxurious feeling of well used muscles.

On the way back to my room, the desk clerk got my attention.

“Excuse me miss, the manager would like to talk to you when you get the chance.”

“Right now?” I asked her.

“If it’s convenient.”

It wasn’t, I was dripping wet from the pool and it was cold in the lobby. I told the clerk I’d call when I got to my room and showered.

“Front desk” the woman’s voice answered when I called.

“It’s Darlene, from Room 207, the manager wanted to speak to me.?”

“Yes, she did. Just hold on a second and I’ll transfer you.”

A few seconds of awful strings music later “Hi, this is Kate.”

“Hi, it’s Darlene, you’re the manager?”

“Yes, I am, daytime operations manager. How are you doing today?” Her voice was warm and smooth, phone sex operator meets mom. If I could imitate the tone I could make my guy wag his tail and do tricks. I’d have to practice.

“I’m fine, how come I rate your personal attention.”

“Well I noticed you haven’t filled out any questionnaires yet. We take our quality very seriously here, and while they are of course optional I was hoping to convince you to take the time to complete one.” Her voice was so velvety and persuasive I almost agreed without thinking.

“...No, I don’t think so. I don’t like jumping through hoops for anyone.” It’s true, I was naturally contrary, it’s why my supervisors usually hate me.

“Please reconsider, it would mean so much to me.”

I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying yes. Damn she was good. “No, I’m afraid not, but I’ll keep what you’ve said in mind.” I sure would, this was more evidence that something fucked up was going on here.

I hung up before she could change my mind. I left for the bar a little earlier than I’d planned, I needed a drink.

...

The night at the bar started usually enough. Guys hit on me, I discouraged them. I danced, more guys hit on me, I danced with a couple. Then I shooed them away. I was dancing alone for a little bit, they were playing some nice eighties music, a dexy’s midnight runners song when I felt a body press against me and a strong scent of perfume filled the air. The body was soft and had firm curves pressed against my back. The perfume was nice, smelling sweetly of oranges. I took a deep breath and enjoyed the warm feel of her body against mine. Her hands slid along my side and wrapped around my midsection. She was grinding her body against mine, working herself against me to the rhythm of the music.

I stepped away and turned around, easily slipping free of her grip. It was the bartender from the night before, wearing a short white skirt, white go go boots and a black low cut top. It was very sexy, and went well with her blond hair and tan skin. Her lips were still glossy red, but no cigarette at the moment.

She smiled at me and made her way towards me, swaying sinuously with the music. I found myself following the sway of her body and didn’t move as she pressed herself against me. “I love dancing with other women” she said close to my ear.

I began dancing with her, disturbed by how aroused I felt. I hoped she couldn’t tell how damp I was getting. I really wish I’d worn cotton tonight, silk doesn’t absorb worth shit.

We danced, losing ourselves in the music for a bit. Than, too soon, she said she had to get back to work, break was over.

I shook myself, and didn’t let myself go to the bar for another drink. I wanted a clear head fast, I wasn’t into women, and if she was having this much of an effect on me, something was going on. Somehow she was casting her spell over me, just like she’d charmed that man last night. I had the feeling this was only a part, a small part in the whole fucked upedness that was this place. There was a scam here, and if I didn’t know the whole of it, I could confirm it was there. I was going to send my report by email, soon as I got back to my room. Then I was checking out of here first thing in the morning, and I wasn’t going to fill out their fucking questionnaire either.

I sat far away enough from the bar, so I wouldn’t hear her voice while she worked her magic on any other guys that night. I did see one guy go over to pay his tab and end up talking to her for several minutes, though that was normal enough in most bars. Though he seemed to get progressively more glassy eyed from what I could tell. He wandered off in a bit of a daze, probably leaving behind a huge tip. Unfortunately nothing provably criminal about that. Fuck! I hated leaving an investigation unfinished, but I needed to get out of this place.

The place was closing as I made my way out of the bar. I’d stayed late, trying to get as much as evidence as I could to make up for decamping early. The bartender hailed me as I was making my way towards the door.

“Have a last drink with me?”

“Nah, I’m beat I better turn in.” It was hard saying no, my eyes kept straying to her full breasts fighting their way out of her top. She took a long drag off her cigarette and slowly exhaled it in my direction.

“Please, one drink. My treat.” She cocked a finger in my direction and beckoned me over. I wasn’t having any of it but my feet turned traitor. They walked me over to the bar and deposited me on a barstool. My pussy throbbed.

“All right, one drink I guess. What ya got?”

“Aftershock” she said proudly. Cinammon schnapps, my favourite. She poured us both a shot and we killed them.

“So what are your plans tomorrow? It’s my day off.”

“I’m leaving, first thing in the morning.”

“Oh that’s too bad.”

“Look, let me get this shtrait, I don’t like women. I have a boyfriend, I’m not looking for a date. Sorry if I’ve led you on.” My voice slurred a little, too much to drink tonight.

“Oh that’s okay, I mean it’d be nice if you were into girls to, but it’s okay. I just wanted to hang out. Still if you’re leaving tomorrow, I really need you to fill out one of these for me.” She pointed to one of the forms, the damned questionnaires this place was always bugging you to fill out.

“Fuck them” I said. “Why are you guys always pushing those fucking things on us?”

“Policy” she said evenly “I’m just required by my boss. I hate doing it.”

“Couldn’t you just fill them out yourself, or just not do it.”

“I’d get in trouble. Maybe fired, you wouldn’t want that would you?” She gave me puppy dog eyes with that one. I know how it works, I pull it on guys all the time. But I felt it working on me anyway.

“I wouldn’t want that.”

“Thanks.” She gave me a sweet thankful smile then took a drag off her cigarette, turned towards me and blew it across my face. She smiled a very sure, very sexy, very predatory smile at me then.

“You’ll do one with me won’t you.”

It was very hard to say no, my head spun with alcohol, lust and cigarette smoke. Her perfume swirled around me as well, a sweet smell that made me want to bury my face in her skin.

“No” I forced myself to say.

“Why not?” she asked me, holding my eyes with her large dark eyes.

“Something about them, you did one with a man last night and then tonight, put them under a spell.”

“A spell” she said “really. That’s crazy. Are you sure?”

I nodded. “Do you remember any of the questions I asked them?”

“Yeah” I said, my voice sounded faint and dreamy in my ears. I felt so relaxed and my head was still spinning. It was so nice to sit here and stare into her gorgeous eyes. I knew I should go and quickly but everything was spinning and it was so easy just to sit here and talk to her.

“What did I say?”

“You told him to focus on your cigarette smoke so he wouldn’t get dizzy and sick.” She took another drag off her cigarette and blew the smoke across my face again. It was so confident and sexy that my pussy throbbed again, from somewhere far away though.

“And what else did I say?”

“To just relax and focus on the smoke. And then you asked him if he felt relaxed. And he said ‘yeah, very much.’”

“And do you feel relaxed?”

“Yes” I said.

“Very much” she corrected.

“Very much” I said.

“Do you feel completely taken care of?”

“Very much” I said.

“Did you enjoy submitting to our services?”

“Very much”

“Would you like to submit to our services again?”

“Very much”

“Have we helped you to forget all your cares?”

“Very much”

“Good” she purred. My whole body throbbed at the sound of her voice. She leaned across the bar and kissed me. I responded but sluggishly, my movements heavy.

“And now you’re completely relaxed. So weak and helpless.” “Yes” I intoned.

“And so very turned on by me, and your helplessness.”

“Yes”

“Now I want you to go deeper for me, deeper and deeper.”

I felt completely relaxed warm and drifting. I loved the sound of her voice and the way it thrilled through me.

“You want to please me don’t you, please me and make love to me.”

“Yes” I did, desperately.

She came out from around the bar and pulled my head to her breast. She moved her shirt so her nipple came free. I sucked on it, she tasted salty, sweaty and perfect.

“Are you investigating the hotel?”

“Yes” I murmured around her nipple.

“Have you sent any reports yet?”

“No” I said, my voice muffled by her chest.

She lifted my head, one finger beneath her chin. I didn’t want to stop sucking but I couldn’t resist her will.

I shook with the impact of her eyes, I wanted to please her so badly. I loved her completely.

“Have you sent any reports?”

“No.” I responded clearly, hoping that would please her.

“Good, I’ll take you to the manager in the morning and she’ll help you compose your report. Won’t that be nice?”

I nodded eagerly, hoping she’d let me suck her breast again. She didn’t, she guided my lips to hers and kissed me again, her tongue played inside my mouth, probing, dominating. I felt helpless, possessed; I was a toy for her pleasure and I loved it.

She took me back to her room and made love to me. Then she explained that I was now bi-sexual and she was my lover. That I still loved my boyfriend, and would go back to him. But that she was my primary focus, and that nothing could get in the way of wanting to please her. I was so glad she cleared that up.

In the morning I rubbed her feet, painted her nails and applied her lipstick. Then she took me down to meet the manager so I could write my report.