Front Desk Girl

Author's Notes: As is usual to state on Literotica, in case it is not clear enough from the story itself, all characters participating in sexual acts occurring in this story are at least 18 years of age.

Please, don't forget to comment, rate and if you like it, favorite the story. Constructive critique and feedback are always welcomed.

***

Aniya's job was fairly simple. As a receptionist for an up-and-coming financial advisory business, all that she did only barely amounted to more than humoring low-priority clients whenever the actual financial planners and advisors needed time to focus on the wealthier ones, the ones who could help their business grow and become more than a small, struggling start-up.

Clients such as the one who was right now opening the heavy door leading into their lobby.

"Nothing about me seems unusual to you!" Aniya quickly screamed what by now was her catchphrase, the greeting with which all of their clients were met the moment they opened that door, as the one who was her target now entered her workplace.

A rotund man in his mid-fifties, still holding the door's handlebar, looked at her with the faintest of confusions. For a moment, a chill ran down her spine, as her life-long fears crawled back into her mind. Those old fears that she could never quite fully silence, and which had plagued her ever since she realized what gifts she had been born with. Fears which were now telling her that what he was looking at was her pink hair and cat ears.

Thankfully for her, all of those fears immediately dissipated and disappeared back to the deepest parts of her mind where they came from, when she saw his gaze switching to the chair in front of her, before coming back to meet hers, the question he wanted to ask obvious. When she nodded at him to make it clear to him that he could sit on it, he promptly did so.

"Mister," she said, before focusing her gaze on her computer and making a few necessary clicks, "Bunn, I believe."

"Nick Bunn, yes," the man replied, in a decisive tone of voice.

"Yes, I see that you've already contacted us about your finances, and," she tried for a dramatic pause, "I'm the person who should help you today."

"I believe I was supposed to meet with Mister Hanson today?" he asked, in a way that almost certainly managed to offend her more than he had intended

She hated when people doubted her skills. Of course, there were many very good reasons to do so, since she hadn't taken this job intending to do any actual work, but the occasional automatic assumptions always pissed her off anyway.

That said, it also further calmed her down in a way. Those remarks of his came out because she was a female young enough to potentially still be in High School were she held back just a few times. He didn't even notice her pink dress, pink contact lenses, and a wig of the same color, or her fake cat ears and an almost disturbingly-realistic looking tail, which was exactly what she had commanded him, and many others before him when he had entered the room to do.

She wasn't even sure when she had noticed her powers. She had them as long as she remembered, most likely since birth, but it was only in middle school that she started to realize just what it meant that she could control the minds of other people through her voice, making them obey whatever orders she gave them with seemingly no limit.

Of course, she experimented a lot over the years, getting gradually more and more daring. Still, when she got the idea of cosplaying as her favorite anime character, Ichigo Momomiya from Tokyo Mew Mew every day while making everyone else not notice anything and treat her normally, she had no idea just how difficult something so seemingly easy and trivial would be.

Screaming the same thing roughly every twenty minutes, at any client of theirs or just a random person who for one reason or another decided to visit their company, every day, got rather old pretty soon.

That said, no matter how tiring and annoying it was, it still worked, as was clear by the fact that, instead of any sudden awareness of her super girly costume, what was creeping into his somewhat-annoyed expression right now was a surprise at how long she was taking to answer him.

"Mister Hanson spoke with you by phone, and after reviewing your financial situation and options, believes that I'll be able to help you achieve your dreams and secure the financial position of your family," she explained, only the tiniest hint of irritation in her voice.

"Huh, I understand," he meekly replied. "So, what do you have for me, Ma'am?"

She smiled at the way the situation had turned around. Even when she didn't try to order anyone to do anything, to not infringe on their will in any way, her words still affected their minds. He was strong-willed enough to still ask about Hanson before when she simply informed him of who was meant to help him, but now, it was obvious he was dancing to her tune just as the others.

Very well. Time to get to work.

A single click later, the monitor of her computer was showing the recent stock charts of the currently fastest-growing companies on the market. Turning the monitor his way, she started explaining and doing her best to advise him on where he should invest his family's savings.

"Those three are rather low on the chart overall, but if you want a stable investment, they're your best bet," she said, pointing to the charts of the companies she was talking about with her hand covered by the pink glove. "That's what Director Hanson would have told you as well," she truthfully added.

"Uhuh, yes, I see Ma'am," he mumbled.

She wasn't sure whether he actually understood what she was talking about, or if her powers simply made him agree with her, but it didn't matter anyway. In the end, he was still going to put his and his relatives' money into those companies.

She also wasn't lying about it being a good bet for him. With the way those three businesses were growing, he couldn't expect any doubling, nevermind a higher increase, of the amount he'd put into them in the next two or three years but, in the next two or three

decades

, it will have grown quite nicely and certainly be there for either him or his family, to take and enjoy.

"We know that what you are looking for is a stable investment to secure your family's financial well-being, and in that area, I really can't offer you anything better than those particular investments," she continued explaining while he looked at her with an ever-emptier stare, much more stereotypically fitting of someone that was under the influence of a mind controller. "If you want more short-term, riskier profit, we can also talk about that, in which case I have an entire other array of graphs I could show you, but that's not why you've come to visit us today, is it?"

"No, it is not Ma'am," he flatly replied.

"Good! Well, I believe we're finished here for today, then. Goodbye!" she said rather carelessly, before quickly adding, "Wait just a moment."

He did so, pretty much stopping right in the middle of standing up from the chair he was in, the pose she had verbally locked him in so hilarious to her that she almost burst out laughing at the sight. If she had any doubts left before, now she was sure that she needed to have some fun with this unfortunate guy yet.

"Are you carrying some lunch with you?" she asked.

"Yes Ma'am, a few buttered toasts," he immediately revealed.

"Great!" she exclaimed, with a devilish grin on her face. "Anyway, Nick, I think you have the potential to be a very funny guy, but for some reason, you are hiding it under all of this dry, sullen facade. You know what they say, growing old is mandatory, but growing up is optional, and being an old fart that acts like he's dealing with the Devil for the souls of innocents no matter where he goes is definitely something everyone should strive to avoid."

"I agree, Ma'am."

"Of course you do," she replied with the most obvious "no shit" tone of voice that she could. "So, how about you show off your suppressed funny side and make some people's day by..." she thought for a few moments, "You could put your socks on your ears, one boot on your head, the other onto your fist, and don't forget putting your underwear on your face before you put the boot there. Of course, those no doubt tasty toasts need to be enjoyed as well, so, why don't you use your underwear to hold one of them pressed against your face, the buttered side of course, so you can enjoy it while walking home and amusing people, which is something you should hurry with?"

"Yes, Ma'am, I should," he replied before, to her loud amusement, quickly humiliating himself in the way she had demanded and hastily leaving her impromptu office, leaving her alone to laugh at the comical sight her powers had allowed to realize.

For the next half an hour, she thought a lot about what had just happened.

Maybe

she went a bit too far in this case, but she doubted that anyone would argue with her, provided they even could of course. Given the way he acted before her powers fully overwhelmed him, the dude simply needed to chill out for a bit. Besides, she did help him in the best way he could with his finances. As she did every time a normal person that just wanted to help their family as much as they could came to seek financial advice here. Sure, after living for so long knowing just what her abilities could, she couldn't help but have fun with anyone and everyone that came to face her, finding it impossible not to do so, but in the end, she always helped as much as she could.

Though, sometimes there were cases where help was only possible.

One of them was coming right now.

"I'll approach the media!!" a painfully shrill, high-pitched female voice bellowed just a few feet away from the heavy door. "This is scandalous!!"

The originator of those screams, a lithe, conservatively-dressed woman in her early sixties, would have almost certainly continued in making everyone in earshot know of her extreme displeasure with the financial advisory services she was offered at this establishment, only to fall completely silent the moment her head popped out of the door. Throughout their five previous encounters, the cat girl cosplayer had trained the complaining senior pretty much like a dog, and the moment she saw the big, fuzzy cat ears on the pink wig, all of the commands previously given to her had came back into her mind as if someone had flipped a switch inside of her brain.

Now quiet, she scurried onto the chair in front of Aniya's computer, face down the entire time.

"Misses Marino, Amanda, what's the problem?" the mind controller asked, something of a knowing tone obvious in her voice.

"We've lost money again, Mistress," the old woman replied robotically. "Half of our investments."

"What exactly were the investments you put in this time?" Aniya asked, only minimally interested in the answer.

"As much as my sons and granddaughter make in two months, combined," was the quick reply.

"Ouch," the pink wig-wearing girl acknowledged. "And you've put it all into the stocks and assets I showed you the last time you were here, didn't you?"

"Naturally," Amanda replied, prompting her mind-controlling Mistress to facepalm. "The others had reservations about it, but I always get what I want in the end."

"That makes two of us," Aniya stated with a chuckle. "Tsk tsk tsk though, Amanda.

What

was it that I told you when I was telling you about those assets the last time you were here, what did I make

very

clear?"

"That those stocks and assets are very risky, and that unless I take a massive amount of care, then I'll probably lose money on them," was the predictably robotic reply.

"So, what exactly is scandalous?" the financial advisor asked. Before she could get any reply from her thrall, she continued, "I know what is scandalous. That you are

still

not taking my advice, and instead of blowing off steam and energy doing something pleasurable, you waste time being a stereotypical angry senior that visits establishments just to complain about the service."

"But Mistress, I am doing as you said!" the old woman protested, as she quickly took her dusty, almost antique-looking sweater off, to reveal a low-cut, see-through T-shirt covering, but not at all hiding, racy black lingerie.

"And

where

are you seeking this alternative, sexual stimulation so that you won't have to continue doing this to gain any sort of satisfaction?" the Mew Ichigo cosplayer asked.

"Where the young boys are!" the elderly temptress replied in a surprisingly animated fashion, startling her mind controller for a moment. "As you've said Mistress, young boys are sexually the best, and so, that's who I was searching for. In Universities, college campuses, in front of McDonald's and Starbucks..."

"Alright, stop, I get the idea," Aniya ordered her, before continuing, "I... didn't mean that as a command. That was just an offhand remark. My bad. Obviously, though, as good-looking as you are for your age, you won't have much success doing something like this. Or did you?" she, more or less, rhetorically asked, ready to be surprised but barely even nodding her head when her thrall shamefully admitted that her hunt for young prey was utterly unsuccessful. "You need to be a bit more realistic. Buy some more nice lingerie from the money you still have, and go to, I dunno, country clubs or something, something where guys around your age, maybe ten or twenty years older or younger, congregate, and try your luck there."

"Understood, my Mistress," Amanda replied.

Straightening herself in her chair, the cosplayer sighed deeply. Barely even looking at her unfortunate, conditioned thrall anymore, she moved to prepare her computer to help her pass the inevitable boredom since it usually took around twenty, if not thirty, minutes for a new customer to come during an average day.

"Well then, if you have no other questions, I think it's time for you to leave, go back to your family, and do what I've just told you to," she said, before taking her pink contacts-covered eyes and looking into the brown eyes of the woman sitting in front of her. "And don't forget to put that sweater back on, we can't have too many people walking around here and providing a spectacle for the passerbys. Somebody could start noticing."

"Understood," her thrall blurted out, not even taking the time to call the cosplayer her mistress as she rushed to carry out her orders, putting her sweater back on and waltzing out of the building.

Aniya sighed. Then laughed. This was all shaping out to be yet another, basic, crazy day in her insane life.

Thankfully, her shift was almost half-over by now.

Well, time to have some fun to help her pass the remaining half quicker then. Bringing her attention back to the monitor, she quickly connected to the site hosting her favorite.io game, connected to the room she liked the most, and soon, the outside world might as well have stopped existing for her.

When, an hour later, the next client of theirs finally came, she almost didn't manage to say her catchphrase. Not only did the game manage to dull her instincts a bit, but, starting to speak just as the young man's head was peeking from behind the opening door, she froze in the middle of her speech with a suddenly-formed lump in her throat as she saw his face.

She did a double take as she finished making sure that his peeking face won't see anything surprising, but her eyes weren't lying to her. He looked

exactly

like she imagined a real, living version of Mew Ichigo's love interest, Aoyama Masaya, would look like.

Maybe she didn't even need to put her under her spell?

Perhaps he was just looking for his Ichigo and had finally found her...

"What shouldn't I notice, Miss?" he asked, with the tiniest hint of a Japanese accent in his voice.

"Oh, it's nothing, let it be," she added, the lump reappearing in her throat, if it ever even disappeared before, when she realized how easily what she had just said could've negated her previous order. "Please, have a seat, Mister..."

"Nakamura. Nakamura Akihiko," he replied, before seating himself on the chair in front of her.

"Ah, of course, I remember you!" she exclaimed, before starting quickly tapping and clicking.

In seconds, she paused the game she was playing, admittedly a bit reluctantly as this meant forfeiting the recent match to the annoying Serbian kid she was playing against, barring a minor miracle where he would turn out to be so bad a player that he couldn't outdo her kill count even with her character defenseless and unmoving. Which, now that she thought about it, wasn't exactly impossible.

With the game window minimalized and their internal database covering the entirety of her computer's screen yet again, she only needed to input the first four letters of his surname for him to be the only possible match left.

She wasn't wrong. She did remember him, as well as the moment when, despite him being very much one of their wealthier prospective clients, she insisted on dealing with him herself, as she had a hunch that she'll have fun with him.

Great to see that her intuition was correct.

"Yes, I see that my colleagues have dealt with you quite a lot telephonically already," she said, still looking at the screen, before turning it around to let him take a look. "This is you, right?"

"Yes, that does seem like me," he replied, after looking at the information in front of him for a couple of moments to fully process it.

She didn't turn the monitor back around. Or look away. She was lost in his enchanting, alluring eyes.

"Well, if you've received so much from us already, don't you think it's time to give something back?" she asked, not caring to even pretend that she was here to do her job at all. "Have sex with me. Right here, right now. Put your hand in your jeans and take out your cock before I'll even get to you," she added, right as she got out of her chair and started walking around the table she had there, moving towards him.

He, of course, did exactly as she ordered. To his mind, the moment she had given him the orders, they became as natural as breathing.

"Ah, ah, yes!" she moaned as she sunk onto his just-freed cock, which was already almost as hard as possible, no doubt as a result of her orders.

Her body stiffened for a moment as she processed the pleasure before she squeezed his shoulders with her gloved hands. Taking him in again and again, she slowly tightened her grip on him, before finally loosening her grasp as, without any verbal prompts from her, he started kissing her, their tongues dancing around one another.

"Ah yes, fuck me, be a good boy and fuck me," she whispered while breaking their oral contact for a few moments, more reflexively than from fully understanding what she was ordering him to do.

When he did as she demanded, though, she didn't protest.

His body moved with almost inhuman grace and agility. He pretty much just flipped her around right after sliding out of her, and before she fully grasped what was happening, her face was pressed against the chair her clients sat on while she toyed with them, his cock slamming into her pussy while the chair's leather muffled her moans.

She was pretty sure that, if it wasn't broken already, at least one of her cat ears was close to being so, and she wasn't sure how her tail was about to fare so close to his muscular body moving so wildly so close to it. She barely cared, though. His cock was too good for her to be able to think about anything else.

"Is this pleasurable to you, Miss Financial Advisor?" he asked in a flat, disinterested, distant tone, continuing the pace of his thrusts.