The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I awoke the next morning in my bed, still dressed in the same silly work outfit, minus the branded panties which were inexplicably gone. I had a weird taste in my mouth and a roll of cash stuck in my top.

For a moment, it worried me a little to be waking up in such a condition. I could not for the life of me remember how last night played out or how I even got home. Also, I wondered as I counted the cash, something about receiving my pay in the form of dollar bills stuck between my breasts seemed a little unusual. Was it? I used to work as a barista and a store clerk before, but I don’t recall ever being paid that way.

“I had a fun night” I heared myself proclaim and suddenly I realized that yes, I totally had a fun night. Fun on the bun! I giggled. Whatever I did last night, if it makes me giggle in the morning, it can’t have been so bad.

I yawned. Somehow, the more I tried to force myself to think about what exactly happened the other night, the less I managed to actually care. After a while I simply gave up on it, pondering instead, what fashion and lingerie stores to spend my earnings in. That seemed like a way better question.

I checked myself in the mirror. My hair was a mess, the make up was smeared but I had to admit that I still looked… good. As in sexy. So yummy in fact, that I could almost understand all those people who ogled me the other day. They were right, I did look ogle worthy. However guilty it made me feel to admit it, you know, as a self reliant woman and such.

In a way, I concluded, even a lewd, lustful stare can be seen as a form of compliment. And being blessed with a sexy body like mine, I should probably complain less and enjoy more. After all, having such a gift and withholding it from the admiring public by hiding in frumpy outfits is kind of selfish. I had just never really thought about it that way before.

But once I had it figured out, it was only logical for me to throw out all the baggy jeans, saggy sweaters and such. For today I decided to go with my one pair of tighter jeans, sprucing them up a little by grabbing a pair of scissors and turning them into summery daisy dukes. Yes, technically I was ruining a perfectly good pair of pants, but as I checked myself out in the mirror again afterwards, I knew it had been a wise decision. Added a knotted up shirt as a top and I looked like summer on two slender legs. Still, I had good reasons to go shopping after today’s classes. I needed a bunch of new outfits that really made me look my best. Plus, tomorrow would be my next assignment and I wanted to get my moves right. The mall seemed like the perfect place to practice. Especially the one out of town where I was unlikely to run into someone I knew. I still felt a little ashamed about my new employment. Not everybody needed to know of it. Especially not at college!

What truly baffled me as I strutted across campus in my improvised cutoffs and knotted top was the fact that even though trying to act as inconspicuous as possible, I could barely keep myself from walking in that seductive, hip swaying way I had learned. When I concentrated really hard, I managed to walk almost like a normal person for a couple minutes, but pretty soon I forgot about it and the excissive hip swaying set in again. Maybe it was because of the high heel shoes? I literally turned heads, but it only made me blush.

Later, when someone dropped a pen in class, I could not keep myself from getting up, walking over to the pen and bending over the same way I had done at the trade show. My short shorts rode way up, giving me a sort of wedgie. I had an impulse to do something about it, but instead I found myself putting on that dumb trade show smile as I offered the pen back to the girl who had dropped it.

“Uuh… thank you.” She said.

“You’re welcome honey.” I replied, winking.

Yes, I smiled, winked, and called my classmate “honey” for whatever reason. Behind me, someone whistled. But as good as it made me feel to be helpful, I could barely stand to wait for the stupid class to end, so I’d finally be able to run off to the mall.

Hours later I came back home from said mall, carrying several huge bags from different boutiques. Most of the places I had never even heared of before. Somehow, the clerks all knew I was with BoothBabes Inc.. They gave me huge employee discounts on specific items, so I mostly went with their recommendations.

In the evening, I checked my email and someone had sent me a link to a video, so I watched it. It reminded me a little bit of something I had seen before, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Deja vu? I think I then made a video phonecall to someone, but I forgot whom I talked to. I also vaguely recall trying on some of my new outfits, but that must have been after the call of course.

I had a great night’s sleep.

“Today’s assignment”, the instructress explained as we had gathered the next morning, “will have you wearing lovely sheer stockings leading up to…”

She produced a fairly short skirt from a cardboard box, with little appendages at the hem that looked like some sort of tassles from the distance.

“…these very special skirts.”

Some girls in the front row giggled, as they were obviously seeing something I couldn’t see from the back. Luckily, the instructress further elaborated.

“What makes the skirts so very special is the fact that here at the bottom, they have little perforated strips of fabric that come off easily by tugging on them, each one imprinted with the logo and web address of our sponsor, serving as a coupon for 20% off.”

Oh no. She didn’t actually want us to wear those and have people rip off the little strips until our underwear was exposed?

“I want you girls to wear these, so that people can rip off the little strips thus shortening your skirts and revealing a glimpse of tasteful lingerie. I believe you all did purchase your stockings and silken panties?”

“Yes, miss!” We all confirmed in unison. It was a huge coincidence actually, that I had just bought those exact items the day before, but I didn’t want to call attention to my lack of awareness. I bet it must have come up in one of those videos, I thought to myself, and it wasn’t my fault that they were always so boring that I passed out and…

“Good girls, now please watch this.”

There it was, yet another video. I tried to watch and pay attention this time. I honetly did try, like, real hard. But the very instant the background music started playing, my eyelids began to flutter. Impossible to stay awake…

When I came to my senses, I was already standing and wearing the outfit. So were the other girls around me who looked equally surprised. The floor at our feet was littered with the clothes we wore when we came in. I spotted my denim cutoffes and for some reason, the fabric in the crotch area looked dark, as if from wetness. Looking down, I also noticed I was wearing a tube top with the words “HUGE BARGAINS” written aross my breasts in big red letters.

I rolled my eyes, as that was exactly the sort of thing encouraging people to stare. On one of the other girls, who wore the same outfit of course, I could see that there was more writing on the back of the top: “Grab a handful of my skirt and get 20% off!”

Great, i thought, they’re encouraging people not only to stare but to grope as well? I sighed.

I expected we’d be picked up by cars or a bus or something and shuttled over to the trade show, but then I realized there was no transport waiting.

“Girls”, the instructress said, “the mall is only one block away, so please just walk over.”

“Yes miss!” I found myself blurting out.

Wait, the… mall? As in “local mall”? Oh dear.

I expected that walking through my town, let alone through the local mall, in a skimpy, silly promotional outfit would make me feel rather insecure and self conscious. However, to my surprise I found myself strutting down the street with the other girls as gracefully and self confident as ever. Having arrived at the mall, I felt almost excited about being on display for the next couple hours. We swarmed out in groups of two, mixing with the shoppers and turning their heads.

“Uuuh… may I?” a nervous looking teenager asked me. I put on my most encouraging smile.

“That’s what I’m here for sweetie.”

Hesitating only briefly, he reached out for the hem of my skirt to tear off one of the coupons.

“Yes sweetums”, I further encouraged him, “go grab a handful and get 20% ooooooOOOHmy!”

I was surprised by a sudden sensation in my body, the exact moment when the boy tore off his coupon. It felt like… it felt good. In a sexual way. I blushed, having let out an involuntary moan of arousal. To my utter embarrassment, the girl I was with commented the incident saying

“Oh boy, looks like you just got her 20% off as well!”

I glared at her, wondering why the hell she’d humiliate me by saying that. The boy just started blushing even worse than me and excused himself, waving shyly at us, with the shred of my skirt (and dignity?) he held in his hand.

“That was uncalled for.” I said to the other girl.

“Sorry, I… don’t even know why I said it.” She replied.

I frowned at her, not believing that such a thing would just slip out of her for no reason at all.

“It won’t happen again.” She reassured me.

But it did happen again very soon. Not to her though. The next guy who approached us went for her instead of me and as he grabbed his coupon from her skirt, she reacted the same way I had. She gasped with surprise and then a sweet and undeniably sexual moan escaped her lips before she bit down on them looking like a naughty sexual daydreamer. The man stared with a mixture of lust and guilt, firmly grasping the coupon.

“Oh boy, looks like you just got her 20% off as well!” I commented.

He chuckled and thanked us for the coupon. I was beet red.

“Sorry.” I said meekly. “I… didn’t mean to say that.”

“See?” She replied almost triumphantly. “It wasn’t my fault neither!”

I nodded.

It pretty much went on like this. Whenever people came up and ripped off their coupon from one of us, we’d experience an overwhelming wave of sexual pleasure. We didn’t talk about it but looking at her I was more than certain that she was feeling it just the same as me. By the fifth time it happened to me, I had a small orgasm. I tried not to let my panties get too wet, but what could I do? I am and always have been a squirter. Good thing the stocking tops were beginning to show as well, maybe they’d, like, distract people from the wetness of my panties...

And each friggin’ time, that dumb comment!

“Oh boy”, I found myself blurting out uncontrollably yet again, as the other girl had what seemed to be her third orgasm today, “looks like you just got her 20% off as well.”

“More like 100%, from the looks of it.” The balding man replied.

I smiled awkwardly and so did she. None of us had the nerve to explain to him the math behind it, that he was like the fifth guy in a row who got her 20% off, so of course at this point she would have an orgasm. It was blatantly obvious how it worked, but some people are just clueless. Or dumb.

Good thing I go to college!