The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Margaret was in line, waiting to get her morning coffee. Smoothing out her dress, she was feeling especially annoyed today. She couldn’t figure out why, but lately women have been annoying her greatly. Specifically, fake women. The kinds you see on reality shows, in hip hop videos, even in her workplace. Margaret took great pride in her natural beauty, wearing no makeup and barely needing to style her golden brown hair, their locks reaching just below her shoulders. She often admired herself, enjoying her 34-28-36 measurements that women all over would envy. She was vain in an odd sort of way, and even went as far as to insult those who had to augment themselves with something like makeup, and even scoffed at dyed hair. Coming out of her reverie, she noticed a woman standing in front of her in line that she didn’t remember being there before.

“Excuse me? I believe I was in front of you.”

The other woman turned around, and was exactly the type of person Margaret hated. Tan skin, red dress, tall heels, bleached hair. “I’m sorry but I was actually already here.”

“Please step aside Miss Barbie, I just want my coffee.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Or can you not hear me up there on those heels of yours? Move.”

“Calm down, I just want my coffee alright honey? I’ll be gone soon enough.”

“Honey? I don’t think so. I hate fake girls like you, always thinking you can get your way just because you tart up like that. Why can’t you get by on your natural looks, and use some skill for a change?”

“Maybe some of us aren’t as gifted as you, hm? I merely enjoy dressing up, I’m not vain like you,” the woman said, glaring down at Margaret.

“Me? Vain? I’m not the one going around trying to look like a hooker while I just want some coffee! Get out right now before I call someone over and get you kicked out, you whore.”

“You’ll regret this you know,” the woman warned. “You shouldn’t be so obsessed with your looks.”

“You’re one to talk, I don’t have to try, I already look good.”

“And you shouldn’t put down other people for it. You can have your coffee, I’ll have something else.”

“Damn right you will.”

Margaret got her coffee and drank it angrily. The nerve of that woman, she thought to herself. How could she insult my looks? She was the one who was obsessed with trying to look better. I’ve already got it, so what do I care? She finished up her coffee and headed out. As she exited the shop, she was stopped by the woman in the red dress from the coffee shop.

“What? Do you want to start a fight or something?”

“I just want you to apologize to me for earlier, and to admit that it’s ok to want to enahance one’s beauty.”

“No! It’s all just lies, if you can’t be natural, then you just weren’t born with it, like me. It’s just the natural order of things. Now leave me alone, you little Barbie bimbo.”

“I gave you a chance, but that’s it. Now you’re going to regret it.”

“Are you threatening me? I’ll call the cops on your skinny tanned ass.”

“I won’t do anything to harm you. In fact it will probably help you, in a way. I’m sure we’ll be meeting again.”

Margaret watched the woman walk off, muttering something to herself. “What a wierdo,” Margaret said aloud.

Shit now I’m late for work, she thought, rushing for the bus.

At lunch time, Margaret found herself staring in the mirror. Is that a zit? When the hell did I get that? It bothered her for the rest of the day, and by the end it was the only thing on her mind. Normally she wouldn’t care so much about it, but she just couldn’t bear letting it get in the way of her natural good looks. Not owning any makeup, she stopped by a drug store on the way home to pick up some concealer.

Morning came, and Margaret once again stared into the mirror, this time in the bathroom. What happened? First the zit, and now this? Margaret hadn’t noticed it before, but now she couldn’t get over what bad skin she had. Feeling her actually flawless skin, she thought, it must have been that stupid woman. I’m all stressed out now, ugh. She tried to ignore it and go to work, but she found herself dropping by the drug store again, this time for some powder foundation. She found herself thinking about all the girls she hated. I’m not like them, I’m just trying to keep myself at my natural level of beauty, she reasoned to herself.

This continued throughout the week, and by Friday morning she was standing in her bathroom, finishing putting on her makeup. As she put on her blood red lipstick, she frowned, knowing it was too much for simply trying to meet her standards. She didn’t remove it though, the thought of doing so making her anxious. She berated herself for leaving it on, when she became distracted by a sudden interest in her hair. Her golden brown hair normally always looked perfect to her, but for some reason today it was off. To her it looked lifeless and flat. She tried fixing it, but no matter what she did she just wasn’t satisfied. What the fuck is going on? I’m like a train wreck lately. This hair needs to be dealt with. I won’t have it let me down like this. Her beautiful hair was teased out and styled well beyond what she ever did, but she walked out disappointed, resolved to go to her hairdresser that weekend. At work, people complimented her on her new look, and she smiled to herself, confirming to herself that her moves were the correct ones, and no one was recognized that she merely made up the difference in her temporary lack of beauty.

Monday came and Margaret was sipping coffee in the shop. She had arrived early today, and she no longer thought twice about wearing her makeup now as she got lipstick stains on her coffee mug. She frowned as she saw them, such is the price I pay to keep my natural beauty. She swept her hair back, which was now dyed a deep golden blonde with light blonde highlights. She had to fight her normal stylist to get her hair done this way, who insisted she stick with her natural hair color because it was so great. After insulting the stylist, her new stylist made no complaints about fixing her hair in a new style, backcombing it out into a huge teased out shape flowing down the back of her head. She was pleased with her hair, liking that it got her back into gear on her looks, when her thoughts were interruped when someone sat on a chair next to her. It was the woman in the red dress.

“Hello there, I thought I would check on you. It looks like you’ve changed your mind about some things.”

“You!” Margaret knew the woman was referring to her makeup. “I’m different than you, this is just to keep my natural beauty where it is.”

“Why are you so obsessed with your beauty? Whether it’s real or fake, it’s still outwards, and you are still ugly inside.”

“Who ARE you? Are you telling me fake beauty is just as good? I despise having to wear this stuff, and I still look more beautiful than you ever will!”

“I am Liana,” the woman in red replied calmly, “and if you despise it so much why wear it?”

“None of your business,” Margaret replied, but suddenly felt compelled to add on, “I just have to, I need it to feel right. To feel natural.” She turned her eyes away from Liana.

“You will need much more than that to feel natural. I hope you find peace soon, so you may make peace with others.”

Liana left the table, irritating Margaret with her statement. She scowled in her direction as she reapplied her lipstick, annoyed about having to keep doing it so often, but unable to prevent herself from doing it, as otherwise she felt her mouth looked terrible. she felt a little twinge down below as she finished, making her feel a little happier.

She just didn’t know what to do with herself. She normally prided herself so much on her natural beauty, but she had never looked more worse in her eyes. My nails are disgusting, my eyebrows are bushy, hell, even my eyelashes look nonexistent! And what the hell my face still looks uneven and lifeless, even with my makeup on. Ugh, I don’t want to do something about this, but how can I go on bragging about my natural beauty if I look like this? She struggled with herself each day, knowing she was doing what she hated, but the feeling that something was wrong kept nagging at her. If she didn’t do something about it she would go crazy. Thinking about it all made her a little bit hot as she stared in the mirror. It bothered her throughout the week, and every time she thought about it she got a little bit more hot. Soon she couldn’t take it anymore, she booked another trip to the salon that weekend.

Morning was strange for Margaret as she got ready for work. She didn’t usually feel horny in the morning, but this morning was different. She found herself breathing a little more heavily than normal as she put on her makeup. She checked her nails that she got done at the salon, having them extended by a half inch and sporting a nice red color. At least they look good again. Putting on her new lengthening mascara, she was also satisfied with the job the salon did with her eyebrows. What once were perfectly naturally shaped eyebrows were now tweezed into high-arched thin lines, giving her a slightly surprised look. With each stroke of mascara she placed on her already long and full eyelashes, she thought about how good she looked, and her panties started forming a wet spot. Putting the mascara back in its holder, she examined it. She was breathing heavily as her free hand was already down her panties. Putting the mascara tube towards her mouth, she lapped her tongue along the length of it, getting it wet and shiny with her saliva. Slowly, she brought it down towards her, slipping it into the space she created as her other hand pulled her panties outward. She brought herself to orgasm with the closed mascara tube before heading to the coffee shop, licking off her juices from it and placing it in her purse.

She was obsessed. She knew this now. Fixing her already perfect makeup, Margaret was frustrated with herself as she sat in the coffee shop. She was looking like the whores she hated, and all she could do was masturbate to the idea. On the face of things she didn’t want to meet Liana again, but deep down she hoped she would see her again and find out what was going on, knowing she had something to do with this. Looking at herself in her compact mirror, she knew something wasn’t right. She shouldn’t have to put on all this foundation, thick coats of lipstick, and tons of mascara just to look normal, but she sighed as she knew she couldn’t do otherwise, or she would feel like a horribly gross person. Worse, she was beginning to get off on doing all of this. She was starting to get hot again touching up her foundation for the third time this morning when she heard someone speak.

“Feeling a little off, are we?”

Closing her compact, Margaret saw Liara sitting across from her.

“What the fuck did you do to me?”

“What makes you think I did anything? I’m merely remarking in the change in style you’ve made. Quite cute if I say so myself, though you missed a little there,” Liara said, pointing to her cheek and smiling.

Margaret frowned hard and opened her compact up, knowing she couldn’t help herself as she liberally placed more foundation in the noted area, “I know you’re doing this to me. I never used to be like this! I definitely never used to get off looking at myself like this!”

“So you’ve even been doing that have you? I merely made it easier to see how some assistance in your looks could be ok.”

“Okay?! I look like a fucking whore. Stop this right now or I’ll call the police on you! They’ll throw your tramp ass in jail, you little fake bimbo slut!”

“My my. So much anger still. What are you going to tell the police? That some woman made you wear makeup? Haha. Anyway you can’t tell anyone even if you wanted to, my little spell made sure of that. It will also make sure you get to experience what it’s really like to be called fake. Don’t worry though, even though you won’t be able to help yourself, and you’ll hate every step of the way, I’ve made sure you’ll still enjoy it too. I’m going to leave now, and when I do, you won’t remember me at all nor what I just told you until I see you again. But before I go, I thought I’d go ahead and start your new little lie off right. Margaret is such an ugly name, isn’t it? Not cute at all for a natural beauty like you.” Margaret had a look of fear on her face, unable to speak. “No, I think you’re more of a Kylee.” The woman in red walked off.

Things were getting out of hand now for Kylee. She hated the name, but she knew that no other name would do her looks justice, so she insisted. Once she told everyone at work to start calling her that, it was all cat calls and whistles, but she didn’t complain, as she just looked that hot. She hadn’t been satisfied with a number of things lately, and she decided to be proactive and have it dealt with. Her naturally golden brown hair was virtually destroyed as her now platinum blonde hair stood high on her head in a Snooki-style bump, with hair flowing down her back, courtesy of some extensions she now sported. Her perfect skin was now completely covered in copious amounts of makeup, matching the dark tan she now went to regular sessions for. She had stopped getting her eyebrows done, instead opting to shave them off completely and just draw them herself, so she could create the perfect arc. Her already full lips had seemed thin to her, so she had gotten them done as well, and left her mouth in a permanent pout, her thickly lipsticked red lips outlined in black and unable to close. She winked at a coworker she passed by, feeling the weight of her false eyelashes, making a mental note to touch up her heavy gold eyeshadow soon. She walked to her boss’ office in her 5 inch heels, which she was still awkward in but wore to help make her height more to her perfect mental standard. As she entered the office, she closed the door, making sure not to ruin her inch long extensions. Her boss informed her that she had been late every day that week. She knew this was the case, as she had masturbated while putting on makeup at least once a morning now. When they caught her masturbating in her cubicle with her lipstick, however, that was the last straw. Kylee was fired.

Kylee sat at home, alternately starting to cry and stopping immediately. She didn’t want to cry, as it would just ruin her makeup. Nowadays she even slept fully made up, with her hair already done, and even with her heels on. She couldn’t bear to see herself in a less than perfect state. She was at a loss of what to do now that she had no job. She thought about how much money she spent on makeup alone, as she sometimes went through two lipsticks in a week, forgetting to put the cap back on her lipstick before masturbating with it. Looking at her body, she set thoughts of a job aside momentarily. Instead she thought about how much money she had left in her savings. Her 38C breasts were starting to bother her. In fact, her butt looked a little small too.

Kylee was listening to the receptionist at the Club Demoness speak to her. “You’re here for your interview right? It says here for the position of ‘Dancer’.”

Kylee made sure she was dressed to her absolute best. To her she always was, but better to be safe than sorry. She had finally found a job that could make use of her perfect looks, and she didn’t want to let it slip away. That morning she had made sure her makeup was extra perfect, bringing herself to orgasm three times as she put it on. She didn’t even have to put anything in her anymore, as merely applying makeup was enough to get her off. Luckily she only had to be here at noon. She stood proudly on her 6 inch platform heels in front of the receptionist, displaying her new 40EE breasts, which she had done at the cheapest facility possible, ensuring they were perfect, fake globes jutting out of her chest, replacing her once shapely 38C’s.

“Yes, that’s correct honey, erotic dancer.”

Her voice oozed sex as she used the fake voice she had practiced at home, prefering it over her normal voice. She tugged at her short vinyl red skirt, chosen to show off her perfect round ass. She tried to be inconspicuous about adjusting her corset, which was feeling a little tight, but it was what she was willing to do to obtain her perfect 40-24-40 figure. Kylee flashed a smile, her plump lips fighting for space with her eyes, which she had done to look more exotic, and had colored lenses giving her bright green eyes. Threatening to conspire with them to hide her newly done petite nose was her cheeks, which were enlarged and pink. Even her lower body hadn’t escaped unsatisfied eyes, as she had her tendons shortened to make it more comfortable to walk in heels. Her vagina leaked constantly now, as she was constantly thinking about her appearance, and it was made more obvious by the labiaplasty and permanent hair removal she had done. She even had her hole bleached.

“Right this way.” The receptionist led Kylee through the club, and as she walked through it was obvious she was the most fake person there. She strutted in her plastic body, to a private room where Kylee sat down on a red heart couch.

“Someone will be with you in a moment, please wait.”

As Kylee waited, she felt uncomfortable, and opened up her purse. Taking out her compact, she looked at herself in the mirror. She was a perfect image of what she hated, and she loved it. She got hot as she began reapplying even more makeup on top of her heavily made up face. Her perfect skin was a mess now, as she constantly wore so much makeup and almost never removed it. Even underneath her makeup, she had permanently tattooed her lipstick, lipliner, eyeliner, blush, and eyebrows. She even had her eyelashes permanently extended and colored. This way even in an emergency her makeup would be just barely passable to her. She began to leak in earnest as she placed eyeshadow on eyeshadow, thinking about the way her previously perfect breasts stood out on her chest, obviously fake to anyone who saw them, red-tattooed nipples ensuring the fact even further. Her body was a plastic, fake, bimbo shell now, tattooed in makeup and covered in even more, and it made her hornier than she’d ever been. She was supressing moans as she redid her mascara, thinking to the sex that she’d had. With her greatly enhanced sex drive, she had to find new partners almost daily, even though she had multiple orgasms every day just from doing her makeup. She was careful to never get any cum on her, not wanting to ruin her body, and so she always swallowed or cleaned herself up immediately afterwards, and always redid her lipstick right after a blowjob, even before doing anything else. It was somewhat awkward for the man, but it was what she had to do for herself. She had reached her limit now, her inner thighs sliding slickly with her juices as she orgasmed breathing in sharply and letting out high pitched half moans as she tried to hide them, lipstick in one hand held aside for a moment as she tried to recover. She heard footsteps approaching and she quickly swiped two fingers below, getting what she could and licking them off, and finished touching up her lipstick. Placing it in her purse just in time to look up, she saw a woman in red enter the room.