The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Callie had been skeptical at first when her classmate Lauren had sent her a link Sunday morning to a YouView video of someone playing a lute. That wasn’t really Callie’s idea of music, in general. She hadn’t even been sure she remembered what a lute was until she started watching.

Lauren had also made an odd comment when recommending it. She explained it was a local musician experimenting with viral marketing, so the video was unlisted and you had to type in the address directly. Then she added, “Someone with a nice build like yours should definitely check it out.” Callie was kind of used to being completemented on her looks, but she didn’t really know what to make of that.

The video was a solo performer in a studio, tastefully lit, playing a song titled The Filter. The moment the music started, Callie’s eyes shot open. Whoa, she thought, is that what a lute sounds like? She’d never heard anything like it. Her friend had been right, this music was... amazing! She cranked the volume all the way up. Callie didn’t know plucking strings could be that... wow! She was definitely going to have to thank Lauren later.

“What are you watching honey?” her mother Diana stepped in, curious about the loud music.

“This lutist is incredible, mom, you’ve gotta hear it!” she said as she started the video over. Seeing the beginning over again, she realized that maybe the lighting was actually a little... off. Maybe the video hadn’t dealt well with scaling down to YouView’s streaming quality. But the sound was what mattered. And what a sound!

“You’re right, this is great!” her mother agreed. Both women sat rapt. Somehow, the video still had only a few thousand views. This song is gonna go big, Callie knew. I gotta get the single.

Later that day, after Callie finished her homework (with The Filter playing in the background the whole time, naturally), she decided to check out the musician’s official website by following a link in the video description. The site was kind of a cheap affair, with a plain one-tone background and a few plain underlined links. It was something you’d expect to see on the internet at least ten years ago. No wonder your career hasn’t taken off like you deserve; you need to hire some real marketing, not do this “secret viral video” nonsense. She right-clicked the portrait photo of the musician on the front page and saved it. Kind of a cutie, might make a good wallpaper. Despite the site’s shortcomings, the YouView link had promised an exclusive video, and sure enough she found one for a song called Pretty Girl.

Diana walked in. “You haven’t played the song again for a few minutes honey, is something wrong?”

“No mom, don’t be weird. I was checking out the website.” She nodded toward the computer. “There’s another song on here.”

“Oh, can I watch too?”

“Sure,” Callie said as she clicked PLAY.

As it turned out, the visuals of the last video hadn’t been YouView’s fault. This video was even worse, and by a wide margin. Visual artifacts crawled lazily across the picture, the reflections didn’t look right, and the color balance was just... weird. The entire video player almost seemed to warp and shift a bit. It made Callie’s eyes a little sore, but the performer strumming away was kind of sexy want to look, so she decided to keep watching the video.

The sound, on the other hand, was even better than before. Way better. Callie had never heard such wonderful music in her life. Not even close. The video was only twenty seconds in, but Pretty Girl was already her new favorite song.

And Diana’s.

Monday had been awful. To start, she was late to school and tired because she had been up half the night watching Pretty Girl on repeat with mom. Callie couldn’t stop thinking about going home and watching it some more. She was also starting to notice the clothes on some of the other girls, especially Lauren, her friend who had recommended The Filter. Is Lauren dressing up a little more lately? I don’t remember her ever wearing that skirt... She was feeling a little self-conscious about her own look. I wonder what it would take to get the attention of a hottie like that lutist...

Her contemplation was interrupted by another classmate. “Penny for your thoughts, space-brain!”

Callie gave her friend a quick once over. Nice eyes, great lips, decent legs... Callie knew just what to tell her. “Actually, I was remembering this awesome video I saw on YouView. Let me write down the link for you...“

That evening, mother and daughter were eating dinner for two. Diana poked at her meal half-heartedly. Callie stared idly out the window, eating quickly so she could finish her homework and still have time to watch some music.

Diana let out a big sigh. “Callie honey, can I ask you something?”

“Sure mom, what’s up?”

“Am I... am I pretty?”

Callie paused at the question. It was kind of strange, coming from her mother. Diana waited with an anxious look, like she expected reassurance. Callie unsurely responded through a mouthful of food. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m already forty-one, and... I was just thinking, I need someone to confirm that I’m pretty.”

That last part had come out in a very strange tone of voice. Callie eyed her mother with some concern. “Uh... well, I guess, yeah.” She resumed eating, hoping that would be that.

No such luck. Diana put down her fork. “I’m being serious, Cal! Don’t just tell me what I want to hear. I need to know if I’m a pretty girl.”

Callie choked a little on her food. Something about what mom said was... important. Her question should be taken seriously. “Yes, mom,” she responded earnestly. “You look at least five years younger than other girls your age. Maybe ten. You’re very pretty.”

Diana immediately relaxed and put on a relieved smile. “That’s good. That means I can watch the next video.” she said as she dug into her meal.

Callie eyed her mom quizzically yet again. Next video? What is she talk- Oh. Right. Pretty girls can watch the next video. Callie remembered something important. “What about me, mom, am I pretty?“

“Oh, yes dear, you’re very pretty. I’m amazed you keep the boys off you.”

Callie smirked, liking the sound of that. I can watch the next video, too. Callie shut her eyes and shook her head, as if to knock the idea out. There is no next video. What does that even mean? The only video I’m going to watch is Pretty Girl. And maybe The Filter. She squeezed her legs together in anticipation.

School on Tuesday was as bad as Monday. Callie knew she had to get home so she could go back on the lutist’s website. She wasn’t quite sure why, though. Sure, she’d love to listen to Pretty Girl like a million times, but she felt like she needed to see more of the site. But there isn’t any more of the site. It was only a few pages big. Callie tried not to think about it; that would just make waiting harder.

Callie would have been very jealous to know that her mother was already watching the next video at work.

When Callie finally got home, she threw her backpack aside and immediately sat down at the computer, and punched in the address for the page with Pretty Girl. Her finger paused over the Enter key. She looked up at the address she had typed from memory. It started pretty normally, then ended in a mess of letters and numbers. “I wonder...” On a whim, she clicked somewhere in the middle of the jumble and started inserting some more letters.

iamaprettygirl

She hit the Enter key. To her surprise, a nearly-identical page came up, but with a different video. It was clearly another performance, as the preview image showed the sexy artist sitting in the studio as usual. “I can’t believe that worked!” she exclaimed to herself. Callie could hardly contain her excitement. She immediately clicked PLAY and sat back, taking it in, drifting off, listening to the wonderful new song...

The next morning Callie was a little startled by movement in her peripheral vision. I must have zoned out again. It’s nothing to worry about. She glanced up to see her mom reaching toward the computer, and looked quickly back to the screen. The video of the artist—one she had somehow found this morning by guessing at the address—had finished playing. About three minutes ago, based on her computer’s clock.

“Oh, uh, mom! What’s up!” Why am I turned on?

Diana’s hand rested on the mouse. “I just came in while you were watching and started watching behind you. I uh... I noticed you weren’t... doing anything, so I thought maybe I could start the video again, since I missed the first part.”

“Oh.” Callie checked the clock. Plenty of time before school. “Yeah. sure.” That was fine. It wouldn’t hurt to watch the video again.

Diana clicked PLAY and both ladies let out a contented sigh.

Late that night, Callie was on another hidden page on the Artist’s website, which she had found with yet another lucky guess. This was the first page that didn’t have a video. Instead, it was some kind of registration form. Callie definitely wanted to be on any mailing list about such an amazing talent, and had been eagerly filling it out. It started out with pretty standard stuff: name, e-mail, age, home address, major health issues, uploading a personal photo.

The rest was a kind of survey. It asked which videos she had watched, how many times, how recently... She struggled against a fuzzy feeling in her head. It was kind of hard to remember, and usually I don’t need to remember. She even spaced out a few times trying to recall all the details. Fortunately, she’d only discovered the site a few days ago so she couldn’t have been too far off. Plus spacing out is nothing to worry about.

Then came some questions about who she had mentioned the Artist to, who knew about the secret videos she’d been finding, who had seen her watching them, who she might have shown them to, who else lived with her, what times she and they were usually home... Just stuff to do with viral marketing. She and her mom had been watching everything together, so most of those were easy.

Finally she reached the bottom of the form with the button labelled “Submit” submit. Callie inhaled through her teeth and her thighs stiffened. Her hand started drifting to her lap...

Callie caught herself with a start and pulled her hand away before it reached her waistband. She didn’t have time to be distracted. She barely had enough time for homework after watching so much music. Plus, I’m in the middle of something really important. I have to submit submit submit. She clicked the button and Submitted.

Callie’s heart rate went up a bit when she saw the e-mail Thursday morning. It was very important, because it was from that e-mail address. Callie had never seen that e-mail address before, but everything from that address is very important. She felt a tingle in her crotch.

The e-mail started by complimenting her looks pretty girl turned on and describing the importance of watching the videos together with her mother. Darn, she thought, I’m going to have to wait until she gets home from work. It also explained that watching the videos was a special time to bond with her mother, and other people don’t need to know about it. Which made sense. The videos are only for pretty girls, anyway.

The rest of the e-mail was a lengthy description of a dress code. It explained what a pretty girl should and shouldn’t wear. It turned out that in most situations, what they should wear was pretty suggestive. Callie pouted in annoyance. I’m going to have to throw out most of my clothes.

The message ended with a link at the bottom labeled SUGGESTIONS which led to a photo gallery of models wearing a variety of revealing outfits. Although judging by the pictures, “model” was a polite term for most of them. But Callie couldn’t deny that they were definitely pretty girls. She let her free hand drift up under her shirt. Every photo had another pretty girl and pretty girls are sexy. Callie smiled and sighed as her fingers toyed with a nipple. The suggestions where very informative because she always wanted to be a pretty girl. Hey, this one’s wearing a top pretty close to something in my closet...

Callie was getting some looks at school today. She hadn’t found appropriate lowerwear and was forced to wear some frumpy pants from her normal wardrobe. Fortunately she was making up for it on top. She was wearing an unbuttoned shirt, tied tight around her chest to show off her cleavage, but with a thin knot to make it absolutely clear that she was wearing nothing underneath.

It definitely had an effect on the boys. Callie wasn’t really feeling interested in any of them lately, but let them have good looks because being sexy is fun.

Her girlfriends were also eyeing her shirt, but tactfully avoided the subject. Instead they commented on her hair and make-up, on which she’d spent considerably more time than usual. “Why the sudden change?” a friend had asked. Callie shrugged. “I dunno. I just felt like being more of a pretty girl.”

Most of her friends glanced at each other bewildered, not quite sure what to make of her response. They didn’t notice Lauren, who had first recommended The Filter to Callie. When Lauren heard Callie’s response, pretty girl her eyes fluttered shut, she slammed her knees together, and gripped the edge of her desk with both hands. Lauren tried desperately to calm down. She wasn’t wearing underwear and people might notice a wet patch.

Later that day, Callie was waiting impatiently. When the heck is mom gonna get home?? Going the entire day without so much as a proper miniskirt had already been a hassle, and now mom was twenty minutes late from work. She paced back and forth past her discarded pants, having figured her bottom was just going to have to be her best-fitting pair of panties. Plain panties will do in a pinch, the e-mail had said.

She only had one really nice pair, and it had been a challenge to keep them dry. She had been distracting herself with chores pretty girls do chores so she wouldn’t think too much about what was to come.

Diana had checked her e-mail at work. She wanted to hurry home to watch the videos, but she needed to change, so she had stopped at an inexpensive store and picked up the fastest, simplest outfit she could find. When she finally arrived home, she was in a tight white t-shirt and a pair of denim short-shorts that were cut so high that they were almost a bikini bottom. The shirt’s tight, sheer material made two things quite obvious: that she had taken off her bra before coming home, and that she was... excited. The girls barely greeted each other before both heading straight for the computer.

“Oh, wait Callie! I just remembered, I need to do something. Set it up and I’ll be right back.” Callie sat down and typed in another address on a hunch, getting to a new video with another new song. It took all her willpower not to start it. It’s right there! Geez, hurry up mom... She caught her hands moving toward her body on instinct, and very deliberately planted them flat on the desk as she lightly clenched her teeth.

After a moment, Diana walked in. The waist of her t-shirt had been cut off so the bottom of her breasts were exposed. They looked like they would fall out at any moment. Callie was impressed and even a little proud. That is so hot, not bad mom! She can really be a pretty girl when she wants.

As her mom came up to the back of her chair, Callie turned back to the screen and clicked PLAY. For just a moment, before the music started, Callie noticed that the video, which supposedly had only one song, was several hours long. That’s weir-

Diana blinked hard. Several times. It was very dark and her eyes hurt. Everything was pitch black except the glow of the computer screen. Both girls had a sheen of sweat, and were panting audibly. The insides of Diana’s thighs were cool. They had been repeatedly moistened and the evaporation felt good.

After a few heavy breaths, Diana broke the silence. “Callie honey... Callie...” She gently shook her daughter’s shoulder.

“Hm?”

“The video stopped.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“... Should we watch the video again?”

This time, Callie was too far gone to notice her mother’s strange tone of voice. “Yeah. Definitely.” She drew her hand out of her soaking panties and languidly reached for the mouse.

“No, wait.” Diana grabbed Callie’s wrist. “You’ll... You’ll get the mouse dirty, honey. Here, let me.” Diana gently drew the hand toward her mouth. She closed her eyes, breathing ragged, and started cleaning her daughter’s juices off.

It briefly occured to Callie that there were three dry hands between them and this was unnecessary. The thought drifted away, replaced by more important ones, as Callie watched her mother licking and sucking. That’s so hot. The Artist would love that.

When most of the taste was gone, Diana finally reinquished her daughter’s arm, taking slow, heaving breaths. “There you... go. All... clean.” Callie put her hand on the mouse and clicked PLAY.

Callie was outside her home. Naked, but wrapped in a blanket. Someone was carrying her. She struggled to think over the arousal, to say anything. “What’s... going on? Who are you?” Someone said something she didn’t remember, and she stopped worrying. She felt something trickle across her leg. I’m getting the blanket wet.

Callie was carried to the back of a big van and put in a comfy seat, blanket removed. Her friend Lauren was in front of her, wearing only a thong and impossibly high heels, kneeling beside a big television. Lauren grinned and pushed a button on the TV, and it started playing a silent video.

The best video of all.

Callie no name haven’t been given a name just a pretty girl was too aroused to care about anything. The pretty girl’s hands flew to her most sensitive places. She was a hot white point between her own legs, she was a faucet that never quite closed. She loved The Artist and was The Artist’s pretty girl and did not not think for herself. She moaned, and heard another moan beside her. The pretty girl just barely registered that another pretty girl mom no not mom just another pretty girl was sitting next to her, equally naked. But then the music started, and after that, the pretty girl didn’t register anything.