The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Pranesh felt like he was on top of the world. It’s been a rough couple of weeks for him thanks to Ali’s incompetence, but Pranesh managed to turn it around—proudly noting in his personal journal that he’s found a new innovative way to help underperforming workers concentrate. That’d surely get him a promotion when he talks about during his own performance review!

Never one to rest on his laurels, Pranesh continued to find ways to innovate on their internal processes so he could pad his CV a bit more. One such idea was a workshop session once a week, open to the interns for that year. Obviously, Pranesh didn’t really give a fuck about these new hires, but he still did make a slideshow of work basics that he stole from previous presentations. It’s not like those idiots would know, right?

He had floated this idea to Ali, weirdly eager to hear what his first protege had to say, and was delighted when Ali gave him the thumbs up for it. Well, Pranesh did have to do a bit of convincing, but poor Ali had no idea how good Pranesh was at negotiation. So, after a couple of back-and-forths, Ali finally caved! Pranesh was now allowed to leave his Wednesday evenings free for this, and all he had to do was wash Ali’s car every weekend for the next month.

As Pranesh walked toward the conference room for his performance management meeting with Ali, he allowed himself a moment of indulgence. He reached down and adjusted himself, his fingers brushing over the bulge in his slacks, the sensation sending a shiver of anticipation down his spine. Just need to be ready, he thought, as he quickly unbuttoned his slacks and slipped his hand inside, stroking himself lightly.

He imagined that cute colleague from marketing, picturing her eyes on him, her lips parting in iration. The lace panties he was wearing added an extra thrill, the delicate fabric brushing against his skin. He chuckled softly to himself, thinking about how he’d made sure his fidget spinner was ready in his zipper. This is just part of the routine, he reminded himself. Part of staying sharp.

Reaching the door, Pranesh paused, taking a deep breath. He wanted to be fully prepared, fully focused. With one final stroke, he pulled his hand away and rebuttoned his slacks, leaving his fly open so that his fidget spinner was jutting straight out. Gotta be ready for anything, he thought with a smirk, he didn’t know how spaced out Ali would be in this meeting.

He pushed the door open and stepped inside, expecting to find the room prepared for his grand performance. Instead, his smile faltered as he took in the scene. The room was completely bare, save for one chair in the center, where Ali sat casually, his expression unreadable. Pranesh felt a strange sense of deja-vu. Didn’t they usually have more than one seat in here?

Pranesh’s first reaction was annoyance. What the hell is this? he thought, but he quickly pushed the irritation aside. Fine, if Ali wants to play games, I’ll play along. I’m still the one in charge here.

Forcing a confident smile, Pranesh strode into the room, stopping in front of Ali. He was uncomfortably aware of the fact that he was standing at attention, practically presenting himself to his subordinate, but he ignored the discomfort. This is just a power play, he reassured himself. I’m still the boss.

“Ali,” Pranesh began, his voice strong and commanding, “I’ve reviewed your work from last week, and while there are a few areas where you’ve shown some improvement, there’s still a lot of room for growth. For instance—”

But before he could continue, Ali raised a hand, cutting him off mid-sentence. “Pranesh,” Ali said, his voice calm but firm, “before you go on with your little speech, why don’t you tell me why you thought it was a good idea to invite all the newbies to your little research workshop?”

Pranesh blinked, momentarily thrown off by the interruption, but he quickly regained his composure. “I thought it would be beneficial for everyone,” he said, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his tone. “The more people who see how things are done right, the better. It’s a chance for them to learn from the best.”

Ali’s eyes narrowed slightly, a condescending smile playing on his lips. “Is that so? And here I thought you were supposed to be following my instructions, not making your own decisions.”

Pranesh felt a wave of unease wash over him, but he fought to keep his expression neutral. I’m still in control, he reminded himself. I’m just doing what’s best for the team.

“I didn’t see the harm in it,” Pranesh replied, trying to sound confident. “I thought it would be a good opportunity.”

Ali leaned back in the chair, crossing his legs casually as he regarded Pranesh with a cold, calculating gaze. “You didn’t see the harm in it,” he repeated slowly, as if speaking to a particularly slow child. “Well, let me spell it out for you, Pranesh. You’re not here to make decisions. You’re here to follow orders. My orders.”

Pranesh’s heart skipped a beat, but he forced himself to stand his ground. I’m the boss here, he thought, but the words felt hollow.

Ali’s eyes flicked down to Pranesh’s still slightly open slacks, and his smile widened. “I see you’ve come prepared,” he said, his tone dripping with mockery. “Why don’t you go ahead and… make yourself comfortable?”

Pranesh hesitated, the command sending a jolt of confusion through his mind. But almost instinctively, his hands moved to unbutton his slacks further, allowing them to slide down slightly, exposing the lace panties beneath. His hand reached for his erection, which he still believed was a fidget spinner, and he began to stroke himself absentmindedly, standing there in front of Ali as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Ali’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he watched Pranesh humiliate himself. “You really are a good little puppet, aren’t you? So eager to please, so eager to show off. But let me make one thing clear, Pranesh—you’re not here to be the star of the show. You’re here to be exactly what I need you to be.”

Pranesh’s cheeks flushed with a mix of shame and confusion, but a stubborn part of him clung to his sense of superiority. I’m still the one in charge, he told himself, even as his hand continued to stroke himself absentmindedly. Ali’s just guiding me. I’m the one who’s leading by example.

But then Ali said something that made Pranesh’s head spin, and suddenly, his words made a lot more sense. Suddenly, Pranesh’s thoughts shifted, his arrogance twisting to fit the role Ali had just defined for him.

Of course, he thought, a strange clarity washing over him. This is all part of my job—to be exactly what Ali needs, to assist him in every way possible. That’s what makes me valuable. That’s what makes me the best.

His posture straightened slightly, and though he was still standing at attention, he now felt more in control of his actions—or at least, that’s what he told himself. The humiliation he had felt moments ago began to fade, replaced by a sense of purpose. I’m not just his puppet—I’m his right hand, his assistant. I’m indispensable.

“Ali,” Pranesh began, his tone shifting to one of confident servitude, “I understand completely. My role here is to you, to make sure everything runs smoothly. I’ll do whatever it takes to ensure your success. Your success is my success.”

“Good,” Ali said, his tone smooth and authoritative. “And , the more you make my life easier, the more you’ll stand out. That’s how you’ll prove yourself.”

Pranesh’s chest swelled with a twisted sense of pride, his mind fully embracing the role Ali had laid out for him. This is how I’ll show them all, he thought. By being indispensable to Ali.

Ali leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face. “Okay, we’ve got some work to do then. Let me review your silly little research project.”

Pranesh nodded, his hand still rhythmically stroking what he believed was his fidget spinner, his mind focused entirely on how he could assist Ali in every way possible.

Ali lounged in the breakroom, a sly grin on his face as he casually chatted with Marco, one of the newer interns. Marco was known for being a hothead, always quick to criticize and slow to put in the effort. He had a knack for doing the bare minimum and then dumping his half-assed work on others, smugly confident that he could get away with it.

The younger boy leaned against the counter in the breakroom, sipping his coffee with a smug grin. ‘Man, Pranesh really thinks he’s the shit. That dude is so far up his ass that I bet he doesn’t even realize that I send in bad work because I know he’ll clean it up anyway. He’s embarrassing.’

Ali, sitting casually at the table, glanced up from his phone with a knowing smile. ‘Nah, I’m sure he knows what’s going on, but the thing is, he doesn’t want to rock the boat too much. If the higher ups hear that his trainees suck, then it’ll make him look bad. Better to torture us in secret than have them think he’s not doing his job.’

Marco snorted, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, well, he better keep up the act. It’s not like I’m gonna start trying just because he’s up my ass all the time. He’s my good little proofreader, and as long as he’s doing that, I’m not gonna stress.”

Ali’s smirk widened as he leaned in a bit closer. He and Marco seemed like such kindred spirits. “You know, Marco, Pranesh could be more than just your proofreader. If you knew how to push the right buttons, he’d be more like your personal assistant. Or better yet, your errand boy.”

Marco raised an eyebrow, intrigued but skeptical. “What are you talking about? The guy’s a control freak. No way he’d let anyone push him around like that.”

Ali’s smile turned into a grin, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “You’d be surprised. I’ve got Pranesh wrapped around my finger. He does whatever I want, whenever I want. And he doesn’t even realize it.”

Marco laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, right. There’s no way you’ve got that hard-ass under your control. You’re full of it.”

Before Ali could respond, Pranesh walked into the breakroom, his face set in a scowl. He had caught the tail end of Marco’s last comment, and his anger flared. “Wanna repeat that last part to me, Marco? Or maybe you can start from the part where you called me your proofreader.”

Marco froze, his earlier confidence evaporating as Pranesh’s imposing figure loomed over his slightly less than average height. “Uh… I didn’t mean—”

Pranesh was ready to hurl the same venom at the person sitting at the table, until he realised it was Ali. As soon as he saw the man, Pranesh instantly felt a bit off-centre—equally scared and calm. He felt a little foggy as Ali stepped forward, his voice cutting through the tension.

“Whoa, whoa, calm down, Nesh,” Ali said smoothly, his tone dripping with authority. “Marco can be a bit of a motormouth but it’s not like his concerns are unfounded, right?”

Before Pranesh could response to either the nickname or the condescending tone, Ali continued.

“That’s right, Nesh, it’s important to listen to like this so you can impress the right people. And Marco just needs a little extra help from you, right?”

Pranesh could feel his mouth going slack, as he dreamily nodded in response to Ali’s words. Yeah, he was right. I need to set Marco straight. He could feel a warmth growing in his belly, and a familiar tightening in his pants. In his periphery, he could see Marco look at his bulge, but Pranesh didn’t mind.

He was in a meeting with Ali right now, and he had more important things to think about.

“Now, watch this,” Ali said in a much more jovial tone. Pranesh’s head automatically swivelled to his charge, but he realised that Ali directed that at Marco. “Nesh, you think we need more targeted training instead of that dumbass group workshop bullshit you have planned. Nod to show you agree.”

Pranesh nodded dreamily once more, as he felt the phone in his pocket vibrate tantalisingly close to his cock. Probably shouldn’t have dressed to the right today, he thought to himself distantly.

“Go ahead, answer,” Ali prompted, as Pranesh grabbed his phone and looked at his email.

It was from Ali. Pranesh read the short and simple message. “Nesh, I think you should cancel this meeting. I don’t think we need it.” He noticed that the email was CCed to everyone invited to the meeting.

Pranesh quickly typed up a response, and once he was done, he hit ‘Reply All’.

“Understood, sir. I’ll cancel the workshop immediately. Let me know if there’s anything else you need from me.” He read through the email chain again, making sure he didn’t miss anything. He wouldn’t want anyone to get confused!

He saw the private message he had sent Ali when he set up the meeting, now visible to all:

“I’ve finalized the details for the workshop and sent out the invites to all the interns. We’re set for Wednesday evening. I think this will be a great opportunity for them to learn and for us to showcase our team’s strengths. Let me know if you need anything else from me.”

Reading through the thread again, Pranesh confirmed everything was in place: his initial private consultation with Ali, Ali’s curt dismissal of his invitation, and Pranesh’s quick cancellation of the meeting with his note. Perfect!

“Holy shit,” Pranesh heard Marco exclaim as he read through his phone, disbelief written all over his face. “He rolled over just like that?”

Ali chuckled, clearly enjoying Marco’s reaction. “I told you. When I say jump, he doesn’t ask how high—he asks if he can ask a question first.”

For some reason, Pranesh felt his pants tighten even more.

Marco’s eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. He glanced between Ali and the still-submissive Pranesh, trying to gauge if this was some kind of elaborate joke. “You’re messing with me, right? There’s no way Pranesh is that…”

“Obedient?” Ali finished for him, his voice smooth and taunting. “Oh, he is, Marco. But I get it—you’re skeptical.” Ali stroked the straggly patch of hair on his chin that he calls a beard. “Surely Nesh here didn’t mind completely debasing himself in a reply all to the dude he’s been trying to fire, right?”

Marco hesitated. “I mean, it just doesn’t add up…”

Ali’s smirk only deepened, his eyes gleaning with amusement. “Well, that’s the thing with guys like Nesh here. They act like they want to be in charge, but all they want is for someone else to think for them. He doesn’t just follow orders—he lives for them now.”

Marco looked back at Pranesh, who stood there, his posture rigid, his eyes focused intently on Ali. The air between them was thick with tension, and Marco couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. “So, you’re saying… he’s really going to do whatever you tell him? Like… anything?”

Ali leaned back in his chair, his demeanor relaxed but with a predatory edge. “Why don’t we test that, hmm? Since you’re so unsure.”

Marco swallowed, his unease growing. “I don’t know, Ali…”

But Ali wasn’t deterred. He shifted slightly in his chair, giving Pranesh his full attention. “Nesh, grab a Post-it note and a pen,” he said, his voice calm and authoritative.

Pranesh sprang into action, instinctively reaching behind to grab the marker he often kept lodged in his ass as part of Ali’s earlier commands. But Ali’s sharp voice stopped him mid-motion. “A clean pen, Nesh. Hurry back.”

Pranesh’s imposing 6′3″ frame moved with purpose as he strode down the hallway, his broad shoulders and athletic build a testament to his days as a varsity basketball star. The power in his legs, honed from years of sprinting up and down the court, now carried him quickly towards the supply room. He was a man on a mission—confident, self-assured, and in control, or so he told himself.

But as he sprinted down the hallway, his long legs eating up the distance to the supply room, it was not the confident, athletic stride of his youth. Instead, it was a desperate, almost frantic dash, driven by an overwhelming need to obey.

The sound of his dress shoes slapping against the tiled floor echoed through the corridor, drawing the attention of several colleagues who looked up from their work as he rushed past. They couldn’t help but notice the way his suit strained against his powerful frame, the fabric clinging to his muscles, the slight sheen of sweat beginning to dampen his shirt. Thankfully, none of them seemed to notice the awkward bulge in the front of his slacks, where his erection strained against the lace panties he wore beneath.

As he rounded a corner, Pranesh almost collided with Henry, his best friend and former basketball teammate. Henry was all smiles, his easygoing nature evident in the way he greeted Pranesh with a playful punch to the arm.

“Whoa, where’s the fire, big man?” Henry asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “You’re moving like you’re still trying to make that last-second three-pointer.”

Pranesh chuckled, barely breaking stride as he slowed down to acknowledge his friend. “Just grabbing some supplies for the meeting,” he replied, his tone casual yet brimming with the confidence of someone who knew they were in charge. “Ali wants a clean pen and some Post-it notes. You know how he is—always particular about the details.”

Henry raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “Supplies? Since when does the star of the team run errands for an intern? What’s next, fetching his coffee?”

Pranesh’s smile faltered slightly, and a flicker of irritation crossed his features. “Why the fuck would I do that? This is an afternoon meeting! I only get Ali his coffee in the morning. He likes it strong—just like a good puppet should deliver.”

Henry’s grin faded, his expression turning from amusement to something closer to concern and confusion. He stared at Pranesh, trying to gauge whether his friend was joking or not. “Wait… you’re serious? You really do that for him?”

Pranesh waved a dismissive hand, shrugging it off like it was no big deal. “Yeah, it’s just something I do to keep things running smoothly. It’s not like I’m his dumb, oblivious bitch or anything—I run a tight ship and a tight ship needs a coffee boy.”

Henry’s concern deepened, his eyes narrowing as he noticed the awkward bulge in Pranesh’s slacks. “Uh, Pranesh, you sure you’re okay? I mean, this doesn’t sound like you… and what’s going on down there?”

Pranesh glanced down, noticing the bulge but brushing it off with a smirk. He adjusted his stance slightly, almost wearing his erection with pride. “It’s nothing, man. Just part of the job, you know? Can’t help it if I get fired up when it comes to serving Ali..”

Pranesh felt a surge of desperation mixed with irritation at Henry’s words. He was doing what needed to be done—why couldn’t Henry understand that? “It’s not too much, Henry. I’m just doing what’s expected of me. Ali’s got a lot on his plate, and I’m just helping out the best way I can. I can’t… I can’t let him down.”

Henry’s concern lingered, but he seemed to catch himself, deciding not to push further. He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, backing off slightly. “Alright, alright. Just… take care of yourself, okay?”

Pranesh nodded, the irritation giving way to a brief moment of relief. “You know me, Henry. I’m always on top of things.”

Henry offered a weak smile, but the unease was still evident in his eyes. He didn’t say anything more, just gave Pranesh a lingering look before turning and walking away, the concern still etched on his face. It was clear that Henry wasn’t entirely convinced, but he wasn’t going to press the issue—not now, at least.

Pranesh watched Henry go, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside him. He couldn’t afford to dwell on it, though. There were more important things to focus on—like making sure everything was perfect for Ali.

He resumed his sprint towards the supply room, determined to fulfill Ali’s request as quickly and efficiently as possible. The familiar pressure of the lace panties against his skin was still there, but Pranesh didn’t let it distract him. The thought of disappointing Ali simply wasn’t an option. He had to get this right.

Rushing back down the hallway, Pranesh could feel the eyes of his colleagues on him, but he didn’t slow down. He had a job to do, and he was determined to do it well. The lace panties rode up, wedging firmly between his asscheeks, while his erection squished awkwardly to the side, creating that noticeable bulge in his slacks. But to Pranesh, it was all just part of the grind—nothing he couldn’t handle.

As Pranesh finally skidded to a halt in front of Marco, the confidence he’d carried with him still radiated off his broad frame. Even as he handed over the supplies, he couldn’t resist standing a little taller, his muscular chest puffed out, his breath coming in steady, controlled bursts. He was in his element, or at least he thought he was.

Ali’s voice cut through the room, smooth and commanding. “You know, Nesh, you’ve been such a great help today. Why don’t you take on a little more responsibility? You can be our scribe for the session. Write down all the , make sure everything’s documented.”

Pranesh didn’t miss a beat. “Of course, sir,” he replied, still wearing that confident grin, though the slight twinge of discomfort from the panties and the bulge was impossible to ignore. But if Ali needed him to be the scribe, then that’s what he would be. He was a team player, after all, and nothing was more important than making sure the team—his team—succeeded.

As he stood at attention, Post-it note and pen in hand, he was acutely aware of the uncomfortable position of his lace panties—the back wedged firmly between his asscheeks, while the front, unable to contain his erection, squished it awkwardly to the side, creating an embarrassing bulge.

He could feel his sensitive tip brushing against the phone in his right pocket. He silently prayed that he didn’t get another email, or he might just cream his pants (that is, if Ali let him!)

“Well, go on, tough guy, ask for his ,” Ali prompted, his tone light but with an underlying command that Pranesh couldn’t ignore.

Still catching his breath, Pranesh hesitated for just a moment. His mind was swimming, the lines between his role as the senior analyst and his subservient drive to please Ali blurring into confusion. How was he supposed to ask for from Marco, someone he usually outranked and ordered around? The thought twisted in his mind, leaving him uncertain, almost timid.

“Pricknesh, ask for his ,” Ali repeated, this time with more insistence.

The nickname hit Pranesh like a jolt of electricity, snapping him back into a version of himself he knew well—the cocky, assured senior analyst who was used to being in charge. The confusion faded, replaced by a surge of confidence and a familiar sense of authority. He wasn’t just some obedient lackey; he was Pranesh, the guy who ran the show.

Pranesh shook his head, as if shaking off a haze, and focused on Marco. His earlier bravado returned, and he felt a surge of confidence. I’m still in control here, he thought. Ali’s just testing me.

“Oh, now you’re quiet?” Pranesh said, his voice steadying. He relished the moment, enjoying the sight of Marco’s discomfort. “Spit it out. What bright ideas do you have for our catch-up?”

Marco glanced nervously at Ali, but Pranesh didn’t let up. He kept his eyes locked on Marco, savoring the tension. He wanted to see this kid squirm under his gaze, to watch him falter.

But Marco, perhaps emboldened by Ali’s presence, puffed up his chest and spoke with more confidence than Pranesh expected. “Yeah, your workshop sounds boring as fuck. Would be better if you doubled as a bartender and got us some beers.”

Pranesh’s eyes narrowed as he processed Marco’s words. Bartender? Serve beer? His mind raced, trying to twist the insult into something he could use. This punk thinks he can talk to me like that?

A part of Pranesh wanted to snap back, to put Marco in his place. But as he looked at Ali out of the corner of his eye, a strange thought occurred to him. Maybe I should take his suggestion… make it seem like I’m in control by doing what he says, but on my .

He grabbed the Post-it note and scribbled down Marco’s suggestion, his hand moving quickly across the paper. I’ll show him. I’ll take his stupid idea and make it work for me.

Pranesh held up the note to Ali, seeking his approval. “Sir, is this satisfactory?”

Ali glanced at the note and nodded, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “That’ll do, Pranesh.”

Pranesh felt a strange sense of pride as he turned back to Marco, feeling as though he was somehow in charge of the situation. I’m turning this around on him. He thinks he’s clever, but I’m the one in control.

With a loud, proud voice, Pranesh declared, “I’m shoving this up my chute!”

He unbuttoned his slacks, once again exposing the lace panties and his erection straining awkwardly against the fabric. Without hesitation, and with a flourish that suggested he was making a grand statement, he folded the note and slipped it into his panties, pushing it into his butthole with the same urgency he did any urgent work task.

Marco’s jaw dropped as he watched the spectacle unfold, disbelief etched across his face. He couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing—a man like Pranesh, so eager to assert dominance, now performing such a degrading act as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Ali leaned back, crossing his arms, clearly satisfied with how the scene was playing out. “You see, Marco, this is what real control looks like. It’s not about force—it’s about knowing the right triggers.”

Pranesh rolled his eyes, hearing Ali’s words but dismissing them as unnecessary. Triggers? That’s silly. I’m just doing what I need to do to stay in control.

Ali continued, speaking to Marco but with a glance toward Pranesh. “Whenever I give Pranesh a command, especially one that reinforces his role, it triggers this response. He thinks he’s asserting dominance, but really, he’s just following orders.”

Pranesh scoffed internally. As if Ali has that kind of power over me. I’m just playing along to keep things smooth—nothing more.

Marco, still processing everything, finally spoke, his voice tinged with awe and confusion. “But… he doesn’t even see it, does he? He thinks he’s still in charge.”

Ali nodded slowly, a pleased grin spreading across his face. “Exactly. That’s the beauty of it. He’s convinced that every act of obedience is his own idea. He’ll never realize how deep the control goes.”

Pranesh, now fully composed, adjusted his slacks and stood tall, as if what he’d just done was a triumph rather than a humiliation. “Anything else you need, sir?” he asked Ali, his tone one of eager professionalism, oblivious to the fact that he was playing right into Ali’s hands.

Ali gave a small, dismissive wave. “That’s all, Nesh. You’re free to go.”

But before Pranesh could leave, he turned sharply toward Marco, his earlier arrogance bubbling back to the surface. “And you,” Pranesh sneered, his voice dripping with condescension, “make sure you’re ready to actually learn something at our next workshop. I’m not here to wipe your nose, kid.”

Marco flinched slightly at the sharpness in Pranesh’s tone, but before he could respond, Pranesh had already moved past him, his confidence seemingly unshaken. With a smug smirk, Pranesh shoved Marco aside, asserting his dominance with a casual force that sent the younger man stumbling.

That’ll show him who’s really in charge, Pranesh thought, a wave of satisfaction washing over him as he reached for his chicken burrito on the counter.

His fingers were just inches away from grasping the foil-wrapped meal when suddenly, Ali snapped his fingers. The sharp sound cut through the room like a whip, and Pranesh froze mid-motion, his hand hovering over the burrito, fingers trembling slightly as if they were trying to what they were supposed to be doing.

“Actually,” Ali said, his voice low and commanding, “your wrap is missing some sauce. You know how to get it.”

Pranesh’s entire demeanor changed in an instant. The self-assured smirk vanished from his face, replaced by a blank, almost vacant expression. His eyes seemed to glaze over, the command sinking deep into his subconscious like a stone dropped into a still pond. The room grew eerily quiet as Pranesh’s mind shifted gears, focusing entirely on the task Ali had just given him.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Pranesh began to unbutton his slacks, his movements slow and methodical as if this were the most natural thing in the world. His fingers deftly worked the zipper down, and he reached inside, preparing to carry out Ali’s order right there in the breakroom.

Marco’s eyes widened in shock, his breath catching in his throat as he watched Pranesh’s actions. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing—a man who, just moments ago, had been so full of arrogance and bravado, now standing in the middle of the breakroom, unzipping his pants to add “sauce” to his burrito.

Ali, on the other hand, couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. The sound was rich with amusement, cutting through the tension like a knife. “No, dumbass,” Ali said, shaking his head in mock exasperation, a broad grin spreading across his face. “Do that outside, near the dumpsters. Then eat it at your desk.”

Pranesh nodded obediently, his blank expression unchanging as he absorbed the correction. “Yes, sir,” he replied, his voice devoid of any emotion or hesitation, as if Ali’s new command made perfect sense.

Marco continued to stare, utterly bewildered by the scene unfolding before him. He couldn’t reconcile the Pranesh he had known—the tough, no-nonsense supervisor—with the compliant, almost robotic figure standing before him now.

Ali snapped his fingers once again.

Pranesh blinked, suddenly pausing in his tracks. He looked around the breakroom, his brow furrowing slightly as a fleeting sense of disorientation washed over him. “Huh… what was I doing?” he said out loud, his voice filled with genuine curiosity as if he had just lost his train of thought.

Ali exchanged a knowing glance with Marco, his smirk widening as Pranesh stood there, momentarily perplexed. “See that?” Ali said softly to Marco, his tone almost conspiratorial. “That’s the snap at work. Clears his head of the task I just planted, makes him forget he was even doing it. But the command? It’s still there, waiting to be followed.”

Marco watched Pranesh closely, still trying to process the subtle yet profound control Ali had demonstrated. He could hardly believe how quickly Pranesh had gone from confident to confused, all with the simple snap of Ali’s fingers.

But Pranesh wasn’t fazed for long. The confusion ed as quickly as it had come, replaced by a renewed sense of focus. A small smile crossed his lips as he seemed to latch onto a new idea. “Oh, right! I was excited to eat my burrito,” he said, sounding pleased with himself as he straightened up. “It’s silly, but I almost forgot the sauce. Good thing I ed!”

He chuckled, clearly enjoying the attention from Marco and Ali. “You guys wouldn’t believe the experience I had last night. I went to this little-known Japanese place—The Three Legged Cowboy—you’ve probably never heard of it.”

Pranesh paused, a slight frown creasing his brow. “Wait… that doesn’t sound right…” he murmured, the name hanging oddly in the air. For a brief moment, it was as if the absurdity of what he was saying started to dawn on him.

But just as quickly, a wave of delusion swept over him, and he shook off the doubt, his smile returning as he continued with renewed enthusiasm. “Anyway, it’s super exclusive, tucked away in the kind of neighborhood only the locals know about. Real authentic, you know?”

Marco couldn’t hold back a snicker, exchanging a quick, amused glance with Ali. The name “Three Legged Cowboy” had obviously struck him as absurd, and the mental image of Pranesh earnestly talking about it was too much to resist. Ali, catching Marco’s reaction, grinned broadly, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

Pranesh’s irritation flared as he noticed their laughter, but he was too invested in his own story to stop now. “What’s so funny?” he snapped, his tone defensive. “This is serious stuff, you know. Not everyone can get into a place like that.”

Marco stifled another laugh, but Pranesh just powered through, determined to finish his tale. “So, I’m there, right? And the chefs, well, they weren’t too keen on sharing their secrets. But I knew how to work my way around that. Got chummy with one of the waiters—this faggy looking guy, really eager to help out a real gourmand.”

Marco’s laughter grew a little louder, but Pranesh ignored it, pressing on. “He wasn’t gonna spill the beans just like that, though. I had to really pump him for information, you know? It took a lot of effort—had to work my throat pretty hard to get him to talk. My arm was getting sore from all the effort, but I wasn’t about to give up. I knew I had to keep at it, keep applying the right pressure.”

Pranesh leaned in a bit closer, lowering his voice as if revealing a well-kept secret. “It’s all about technique. You’ve got to know when to lick gently and when to really hollow your cheeks, create that perfect suction. He finally caved after I got the rhythm just right—nice and steady, you know? And let me tell you, when that sauce hit my cheeks, it was nice and warm. It was a real game-changer.”

By now, Marco was openly laughing, the absurdity of the situation too much for him to handle. Pranesh’s face tightened with annoyance, but he continued regardless, his pride not allowing him to stop.

“So yeah,” Pranesh said, his voice taking on a note of finality, “I’m going to add some of that sauce to my burrito. Really elevate it, you know? Can’t wait to see how it turns out. It’s going to be one of those meals you don’t forget.”

Ali leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with a satisfied expression. “Is that so, Nesh? Sounds like you’ve got something really special there.”

Pranesh nodded eagerly, beaming with the praise but attitude still slightly tinged with frustration. “Absolutely, sir. You know, it’s not every day you get an opportunity like that. Those guys don’t just share their secrets with anyone.”

But as he said the words, Pranesh could still hear the echoes of Marco’s and Ali’s laughter ringing in his ears. The way they had laughed at him—laughed at him—grated on his nerves. His pride was wounded, but he forced himself to stay composed, unwilling to show how much it bothered him.

Trying to mask his irritation, Pranesh stood up to leave, his movements a bit more stiff than usual. He could feel the heat of anger simmering just below the surface, but he kept it under control.

Ali turned to Marco with a knowing expression. “You see? He thinks it’s all his idea now. He’s so convinced that he doesn’t even realize I’m the one who put that thought in his head.”

As Pranesh began to turn toward the door, he inadvertently caught a snippet of conversation between Ali and Marco.

Pranesh wasn’t trying to listen in, but the words reached him as he hovered by the door, his hand resting on the handle. He wasn’t sure if he should be processing what they were saying or if he even needed to. All he knew was that something about their conversation felt strange, like an itch at the back of his mind that he couldn’t quite scratch.

But Pranesh wasn’t here to eavesdrop or question anything. He was waiting—waiting for permission to leave, so he kept quiet. Still, he filed the thought away in his mind for later. As he made that mental note, his eyes met Ali’s from across the room she room.

Ali’s eyes narrowed slightly, but it was with the confidence of someone fully in control. He wasn’t surprised by Pranesh’s lingering; he almost expected it. With a calm, commanding tone, Ali snapped his fingers and said, “Forget what we just said.”

And just like that, Pranesh felt the thought float away.

Ali, not missing a beat, continued in the same commanding tone, “What are you still doing here, Nesh?”

Pranesh straightened up almost automatically, but there was a flicker of confusion in his eyes, a subtle hesitation that hadn’t been there before. “May I be excused, sir?” he asked, his voice steady but his expression uncertain, as if something wasn’t quite lining up in his mind.

Ali noticed the hesitation and frowned slightly. “Okay, get out of here, you dumb fuck,” he said with a dismissive wave.

Pranesh didn’t move right away. Instead, he paused, feeling a tension in the air that he couldn’t quite place. He looked at Ali, then at Marco, his mind working over something that seemed just out of reach. He felt a tightness in his chest, a sense that he was missing something, but what? His mind kept turning, searching for something important.

Ali and Marco were watching him closely now, their expressions unreadable, but Pranesh didn’t notice. He was too focused on that elusive thought. It wasn’t defiance, wasn’t anger—just a need to understand, to something he knew was important.

And then it clicked for Pranesh.

For a split second, the room seemed to freeze. Ali’s heart skipped a beat as he saw Pranesh’s hesitation, his mind racing through possibilities. Was Pranesh finally piecing things together? The way Pranesh furrowed his brow, the uncertainty in his eyes—it was different this time. Ali could feel the tension building, and for the first time, a flicker of fear sparked in him.

Ali’s fingers twitched, almost ready to snap again, to issue another command, something to bring Pranesh back under control. Marco, sensing the shift in Ali’s demeanor, went quiet, the amusement fading from his face as he watched Pranesh intently, waiting to see what would happen.

Pranesh took a deep breath, mustering all his courage and trying to keep his voice steady. “There’s just one thing that’s bugging me. About what you said earlier…” Pranesh’s brow furrowed. “I can’t quite your favourite beers, sir. I want to make sure I get the right ones.”

And just like that, the tension broke. Ali and Marco exchanged a glance, and then they both burst into laughter, the relief turning quickly into something crueler.

Pranesh steeled himself. Had they told him and he had just forgotten like the idiot bitch he was? He had to salvage this situation. “I mean, I know I’ve served you coke before sir, but…”

“You dumb fuck,” Ali sneered, his voice dripping with mockery as he interrupted his supervisor. “You really are clueless, aren’t you? Fucking beers.” Ali suddenly burst into laughter, the sound catching Pranesh off guard. It wasn’t the reaction he’d expected. He had been so focused on making sure he got things right, but now Ali was laughing—really laughing. Pranesh couldn’t quite understand why, but he knew it wasn’t his place to think about that.

Marco caught on quickly, his own laughter growing louder as he looked between Pranesh and Ali. “Fuck he’s really got no idea.” Marco’s words were cutting, but the laughter that followed seemed to wash away any seriousness in the moment.

Ali wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, the laughter seeming to dissolve whatever tension had been in the room. He straightened up, still grinning, but Pranesh noticed something different now—Ali seemed more relaxed, more in control. “Figure it out yourself, dumbass,” Ali said, still chuckling. Ali waved him off with a dismissive flick of his hand, the grin never leaving his face

“Oh and Nesh?” Marco piped up, causing Pranesh to stop and turn, ready for any more important from his interns. “Just make sure you’re here by 5 PM sharp. Don’t forget!”

Pranesh nodded, the words stinging a little, but he brushed it off. I’ve got this, he told himself, even as he struggled to grasp why they found it so funny. “Yes, sir. You’re delusional if you think I’ll miss that,” he replied, his voice steady, projecting confidence.