The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

After work, Linda had almost forgotten the strange ad. Not until she got out onto the street as she walked to the lot. The air was cool, the sun sinking down into the horizon, turning the clouds blood red. She sighed, running a hand through her blond hair.

Time to go home. She turned to head to her car, ignoring the few people on the sidewalk, and then—there was a flashing light.

Linda turned and looked.

HER PLACE?

It was the advertising truck again, driving down the road. The light’s flashed and it stopped at the intersection, just in front of her.

HER PLACE. flashed again. Then it faded out to the black silhouette of the woman, only not it was animated. She was sweeping. Sweeping in…

A house. Of course. Sweeping. To the left. And the right, the woman’s hair shifting as she moved. Someone had spent a lot of money on that animation.

Sweeping…

Sweeping in the house…

Keeping it clean.

Keeping her place clean…

Next to Linda, another woman was staring at the image before she shook her head, turned, and walked off down the street, her hips wiggling a little bit.

Linda bit her lip, staring at it…

She shivered, wondering what kind of woman would—And then the light changed, and the truck drove off down the street.

For a moment, Linda actually reached out for it. Then she shook her head.

I really need to get some rest. With that, she turned and went to her car. She had some shopping to do for tonight, and she didn’t want to spend too much time out.

When Linda got home, she walked in the door, her arms full of groceries. She put them in the kitchen, vowing to put them away later. But she was a little tired. The market had been oddly full, women wearing business suits frowning as they looked to try and find something to cook.

“For my husband,” one had said, blushing as she spoke.

For my husband… That little sentence had stuck with Linda. Not just that but the way the woman had blushed and stuttered, before she went off to ask the clerk how to make this particular dish.

She’s never cooked before? Linda had shaken her head.

But on the way home, she’d thought… she hadn’t cooked before. Not for a husband. Not for a man. She just cooked for herself.

Alone.

Sometimes with a date, but they were always unsatisfying affairs.

And the next day, she was back at work. Just as always.

Linda looked around her living room. It was a little messy.

Not a big deal. She didn’t have to worry about it.

So there was a little dust on the floor.

Linda shook her head.

Nobody was coming over. Who cared if the room was a little messy?

Linda walked back into the kitchen and stuck a TV dinner in the microwave.

The room was messy. She could see the little bits of dust on the floor.

She hadn’t swept.

“I had to go to work,” Linda told the empty air. “I didn’t have time to do housework.” The silence felt like it was condemning her.

Linda snorted. Nobody was here to tsk at her messy house and wonder what kind of woman would be so lazy, what kind of woman wouldn’t have any pride in keeping a clean house… keeping… her place clean…

Her place.

Her place.

Linda shook her head in irritation. She’d just watch a movie. Lindae grabbed the TV dinner and went back into the living room, sitting it on the tray by her chair.

She sat down in front of the TV and called up the newest mindless action flick. Linda could watch it. Watch it and—

The TV flashed. Then, it went dark.

What the fuck? Oh Dammit, is the set busted? That had been a 1400 dollar flatscreen!

“Dammit, am I going to have to call the store?” Sure, Linda had the maintenance contract, but that’d still mean at least a day wasted calling people who would do everything they could to convince her to buy a new screen and—

The screen flared white, and suddenly words appeared on it.

HER PLACE.

And then it faded to the outline of a woman sweeping. Cleaning. Then it flashed again, HER PLACE appearing, before there was another image, flickering almost too fast for Linda to see, of a busty woman on a bed, her breasts nearly spilling out of her nightgown, looking up.

Then the screen was blank and nothing Linda could do would make it work again.

Dammit! She glared at the TV. It was broken and the last thing it’d shown was that stupid ad about her place.

She paused, and looked around.

Her Place.

The apartment was messy.

Her Place.

What if someone came into it, and saw how dusty and messy it was.

HER PLACE.

“Maybe… I could just do a little cleaning,” Linda said to the empty air.

Just a little bit. Not a lot.

Just a few minutes.

She got up and kicked her office shoes off, walking to the closet.

That was where the cleaning stuff was. It’d been so long since she’d actually cleaned. Days, even.

The broom felt natural in her hands. She started with it, sweeping the floor. She didn’t use the vacuum, not yet. It felt natural.

Right. The movement calming her down as her ass moved in time with the movements of the broom. It was…

Soothing. Like she belonged here.

Sweeping and cleaning. Cleaning and sweeping. The TV flashed back on, and she saw it was the HER PLACE ad, the words superimposed on the silhouette of the woman sweeping and cleaning.

She licked her lips. That woman had bigger tits and hips than she did. Or maybe she was wearing less. It was hard to tell.

But she could see that she was happy.

Sweeping.

Cleaning.

Waiting.

Linda shivered as she finished sweeping and went to get the cleaner and cloth. The kitchen was a disgrace. You could see specs of dust on the shiny fixtures.

She started working on that, putting her muscles into it, and could feel her tits jiggling slightly, even imprisoned as they were by her bra and shirt.

Poor tits.

Waiting. She kept working as the word played through her mind. Waiting for what?

Then, there was a flash, and Linda looked up at the screen. The woman was finished, standing upright, and slowly, the screen filled in a black and white image of a door by her. And the door was opening—and just before Linda could see who was opening it, the screen flashed, went white and then…

HER PLACE

The letters flashed and then vanished, leaving the show she’d been thinking about watching.

But Linda had no time for that.

The message had been clear. She had been waiting for her man. He’d been in his place, working to bring home money and his woman…

Kept the house for him. Kept it clean and ready, while she waited for his approval.

Linda whimpered, feeling a warmth rise in her crotch. It would be such a simple life.

But then she was going for the vacuum cleaner. First, she’d hit the living room, then the little hallway, and she could clean the bathroom and scrub the sink and shower, and then go to her bedroom and change the sheets while also vacuuming, and oh, it had been forever since Linda had washed the windows…

Smiling, she turned the TV off as she got to work. After all, the apartment wouldn’t clean itself!