The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Jennifer and Amanda were two driven, ambitious women in their mid-30s, with sharp features and toned figures that radiated discipline and success. Jennifer, the lawyer, was tall and athletic, with her dark hair always tied back in a sleek ponytail. Her sharp jawline and piercing eyes gave her an air of authority that matched her position in a top law firm. She was always dressed in the latest high-end activewear, the kind that was as functional as it was stylish, exuding control and power even during their early morning runs.

Amanda, the teacher, had a more refined elegance. Her blonde hair was cut into a neat bob that perfectly framed her face, and her lithe figure hinted at a past in ballet. She had a naturally graceful way of moving, a trait that complemented her role as a respected instructor in a private school. Amanda’s wardrobe, even when running, consisted of clean lines and muted colors—athleisure brands that emphasized her polished, yet subtly imposing presence.

Every morning before the sun peeked over the horizon, they would meet up in their affluent, tree-lined neighborhood for their daily jog. The run was more than just exercise; it was a ritual that kept them grounded and in sync. As they pounded the pavement, they’d discuss work, life goals, and the satisfaction of being at the top of their respective fields. Their conversations were sharp, with each of them pushing the other to stay sharp, competitive, and always ahead of the curve.

But on one fateful morning, as they followed their usual route through the quiet, well-manicured streets, they noticed a figure in the distance, standing out in stark contrast to the surroundings. As they drew closer, they realized it was a woman—though “woman” seemed like too generous a term for the garish figure before them. She was clearly dressed to draw attention, and not in the classy, understated way Jennifer and Amanda were used to.

This woman was an exaggerated parody of femininity: bleached blonde hair styled into massive curls that cascaded down her back, unnaturally plump lips coated in a glossy bubblegum pink, and eye makeup so heavy that it made her long, fake lashes look like tarantulas. Her body was a caricature of extreme proportions—a comically tiny waist, impossibly large breasts that strained against a tiny, pink crop top with the word “BABE” written in glittering rhinestones, and hips that swayed dramatically with every step. She wore a miniskirt so short it barely covered anything and paired it with platform heels that looked more suited to a club than the suburban streets. The entire ensemble was drenched in a blindingly bright shade of pink, with glittering accessories that screamed “slutty” from a mile away.

As she strutted down the sidewalk, she swung her hips with exaggerated confidence, clearly unbothered by her ridiculous appearance. This was a respectable neighborhood, and Jennifer and Amanda couldn’t stand the thought of someone like her lowering the tone of their pristine environment.

The sight was so absurd that they couldn’t help but sneer. The contrast between their disciplined, professional lives and this trashy display was too stark to ignore.

“You should just disappear from here,” Jennifer said, her tone dripping with condescension. Her sharp voice cut through the still morning air with the kind of authority that could silence a courtroom.

Amanda chimed in, her words laced with icy disdain. “Go crawl back into whatever hole you came from.” Her smirk was cold, like someone who was used to looking down on others.

The woman’s exaggerated smile faltered for a moment, but she quickly recovered, fluttering her long lashes as if brushing off their insults. She continued to sway her hips as if she hadn’t heard them, but the venomous words from Jennifer and Amanda didn’t stop.

“Wow, she’s, like, so dumb she doesn’t even realize we’re insulting her,” Jennifer sneered, her eyes narrowing with satisfaction.

Amanda let out a derisive laugh. “Yeah, she’s too stupid to know better. Probably thinks she’s ‘cute’ dressed like that.”

The blonde finally stopped in her tracks, turning to face them with a sudden shift in her demeanor. Gone was the vacant smile; her expression hardened into something almost menacing, though her overdone appearance made it more unsettling than intimidating. When she spoke, her voice had a syrupy sweetness, but beneath it was a venomous edge.

“Like, oh my gawd, you two are, like, so mean!” la prostituta cooed, twirling a strand of her platinum hair around a perfectly manicured finger. Her voice had that exaggerated, nasal bimbo inflection—like someone who’d leaned too hard into the stereotype of being dumb and ditzy. “If you’re, like, sooo much better than me, I wish you could, like, totally try living as cheap bitches for a bit. Then you’d know how it feels to be like me, and you’d, like, totally stop being such meanies inside!” Her pout turned into a wicked grin, eyes sparkling with a malicious glint.

Jennifer and Amanda blinked in surprise, caught off guard by the sudden shift in the woman’s demeanor. But they quickly recovered, rolling their eyes and dismissing her with a scoff as she turned and walked away, her hips swaying exaggeratedly with each step.

The two friends continued on their jog, laughing off the encounter. They were too focused on their own lives to let some trashy bimbo’s weird rant affect them. But as they ran, neither of them noticed the faint tingling sensation starting to creep through their bodies—a subtle but insidious change that was just beginning to take hold.

Day 1: The Subtle Shifts

That same day, after returning from their morning jog, Jennifer and Amanda set about their routines with the usual confidence that came with being high-achievers. Amanda slipped into one of her tailored blouses and pencil skirts, her hair neatly pinned back as she prepared to face her students. Jennifer, on the other hand, opted for a crisp, dark pantsuit that accentuated her commanding presence, ready to take on a pivotal court hearing. Everything seemed normal at first—another day of conquering challenges, managing responsibilities, and staying ahead of the game.

But as the hours went by, subtle yet unsettling changes began creeping into their day-to-day experiences.

Amanda’s morning was off to a promising start. She stood in front of her advanced math class, marker in hand, ready to break down a complex quadratic equation. Her students watched attentively, expecting the clear and concise explanations they were used to. But as Amanda started to write on the whiteboard, she suddenly hesitated. The formula in front of her felt oddly alien, the numbers and variables seeming to shift and blur as she stared at them. Her usual ease in navigating the intricacies of algebra vanished, replaced by an inexplicable fogginess.

“Okay, so…uh…” she muttered, frowning as she struggled to recall the next step. A student in the front row raised their hand, asking a question that Amanda would normally have answered without a second thought. But today, the words got tangled up in her mind. She blinked, feeling a rising discomfort. “Um…you just, like, need to move the…uh, factor over here and then…um…”

Her voice trailed off as she realized she wasn’t making sense, and a few students exchanged puzzled glances. Normally a model of composure, Amanda felt a rush of embarrassment heat up her cheeks. Desperately, she tried to recover, repeating simple concepts she had explained a hundred times before, but now they sounded jumbled and disjointed, as if she was grasping at straws. The bell rang, saving her from further humiliation, but she couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling that something was wrong.

Later, during her break, Amanda sat at her desk with her notebook open, intending to review her next lesson plan. But instead of focusing on equations or educational strategies, she found herself absentmindedly doodling hearts and swirls on the page. She paused, staring at the silly sketches in confusion. Her head felt oddly light, like it was stuffed with cotton, making even routine tasks seem arduous. She shook herself out of it, attributing her distraction to fatigue, but the fog lingered through the rest of the day. By the time she got home, she was exhausted, mentally drained in a way that had nothing to do with her usual workload.

Meanwhile, Jennifer’s day was taking an unexpected turn of its own. Her courtroom presence was usually razor-sharp—every word calculated, every gesture meant to convey authority and confidence. She prided herself on being unflappable, but today, something felt off from the moment she started her opening arguments. She was presenting a complex case, one that required precision and quick thinking, but as she spoke, her mind kept wandering. It was subtle at first—her eyes flickering to her reflection in a glass panel, momentarily distracted by whether her lipstick was perfectly applied. She pushed the thought aside, focusing back on her words, but then it happened.

“And, like, the evidence clearly shows…” Jennifer’s voice faltered as the word “like” slipped out of her mouth. For a split second, she froze, her polished demeanor cracking as a flicker of confusion crossed her face. She cleared her throat and tried to recover, only to feel her train of thought scatter again. The next sentence came out stilted, her usual confident tone replaced by something oddly girlish. “So, um, we totally have to consider…”

She mentally cringed, horrified at herself. Did I just say ‘totally’? she thought, feeling a jolt of embarrassment. It was the kind of filler language she despised—unprofessional, vapid, and completely beneath her. As if things couldn’t get worse, when the opposing counsel raised an objection, Jennifer found herself giggling—a high-pitched, nervous sound that made her blush with shame. It wasn’t just the word slips; she felt an unusual pressure to be liked, to seem…pleasant. She forced herself to finish her argument, but by the end of the hearing, she was flustered and annoyed with her performance, something that rarely, if ever, happened.

As the day dragged on, Jennifer’s thoughts became more scattered. Instead of meticulously reviewing her notes or strategizing for her next case, she found herself fixating on her appearance—adjusting her makeup, checking her reflection in her phone’s camera, and worrying about whether her outfit was flattering enough. It was as if some part of her brain had shifted focus, prioritizing superficial details over critical analysis. By the time she left the office, her confidence had taken a noticeable hit.

That evening, both women spoke briefly over the phone, sharing their frustrations about what they assumed were just “off days.” Amanda mentioned how the math seemed harder than usual, laughing it off nervously, while Jennifer admitted she’d been distracted during her hearing. “Maybe it’s, like, just stress, you know?” Jennifer suggested, but the word “like” slipped out again, and she winced inwardly. The conversation was unusually short, both of them too preoccupied with their own thoughts to dwell on it. They went to bed that night hoping a good night’s sleep would set things right.

But the changes had only just begun.

Day 2: Growing Concerns

The following morning, Jennifer and Amanda met once again for their usual jog, both eager to shake off the lingering discomfort from the previous day. However, as they greeted each other, they couldn’t help but notice something off. Jennifer’s hair, which had always been sleek and styled to perfection, now fell in fuller, more voluptuous waves, bouncing with every step. Amanda’s hair had also grown noticeably longer, with a glossy sheen that reflected the morning sunlight. Their sports bras were noticeably tighter, struggling to contain the extra fullness in their chests, which had appeared almost overnight.

Amanda laughed nervously as she adjusted her bra strap. “Wow, Jen, looks like we’ve definitely put on some...extra weight! Maybe we need to up our workouts, like, totally.”

Jennifer chuckled, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “Yeah, for sure. Must be all that water retention or something. I mean, seriously, these sports bras are about to burst!”

They tried to brush off the discomfort with forced humor, but a nagging sense of unease lingered. Ignoring their creeping doubts, they continued their run, relieved not to encounter the prostitute from the other day.

Throughout the day, the strange changes became more apparent. Amanda, who usually took pride in her impeccable and professional appearance, found herself struggling in her teaching role. Today, she wore a fitted blouse with a slightly plunging neckline and a pencil skirt that hugged her curves more tightly than usual. Her makeup was a touch more dramatic, with bold lipstick and shimmering eyeshadow. In class, while trying to explain quadratic equations, she found her thoughts scattered. “Uh, so, like, quadratic...um, what was I saying?” she stammered, her students looking puzzled. Her lesson plans, once meticulously organized, now appeared dull and uninspiring. Instead, her mind wandered to inconsequential things—like how sexy her new pencil skirt felt and whether her colleagues would notice the subtle changes in her appearance. She even found herself daydreaming about a new, flirty outfit she’d seen online and how exciting it would be to try it out.

By lunch break, Amanda was doodling hearts and sparkles in her notebook, distracted from her teaching duties. She tried to refocus but felt a fog settling in, making even routine tasks seem daunting.

Jennifer’s day at the law office was equally disorienting. Today, she wore a chic, tailored dress with a hemline slightly higher than usual and a button that was casually left unfastened, revealing a hint more cleavage. Her makeup was slightly more pronounced than normal, with a bold red lipstick and a heavier application of eyeliner. During an important client meeting, she found herself zoning out, her gaze often drifting to her reflection in the window. “Oh, my God, I really need a touch-up on my lipstick,” she thought, unable to focus on the legal strategy at hand. Her usual attentiveness was overshadowed by an obsession with her outfit and appearance.

During an afternoon coffee break, Jennifer spent a considerable amount of time discussing her colleague’s new handbag rather than the case they were supposed to be reviewing. “That bag is, like, totally amazing! Where did you get it? I need one just like it!” she exclaimed, completely losing sight of their legal discussions.

By the time they both returned home, the growing discomfort from their days was undeniable. Despite their best efforts to maintain normalcy, they felt an unsettling change taking root. They couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was happening, but each was trying to reassure herself that it was just a passing phase.

As they prepared for bed, both women found themselves restless, the day’s strange occurrences buzzing in the back of their minds. They chatted briefly about their off days during a phone call but quickly dismissed their worries, believing it was nothing more than the stress of their busy lives. Little did they know, the transformation was only beginning.

Day 3: The Visible Changes

By the third day, the changes in Jennifer and Amanda were impossible to ignore. When they met for their usual jog, their appearances had morphed into something straight out of a beauty pageant—though far from the athletic image they once projected. Their hair now fell in voluminous, bouncy curls that cascaded down their backs like shimmering waterfalls. Their lips were overly plump, as if freshly injected with gloss and allure. Their workout gear strained against their newly exaggerated curves.

Jennifer wore a cropped, neon pink sports bra that struggled to contain her now ample bust, with a pair of high-cut, holographic leggings that hugged her thighs and hips with a skin-tight embrace. Her outfit sparkled under the morning sun, drawing attention rather than blending in. Amanda, similarly attired in a snug, sky-blue sports bra and matching, metallic leggings, looked every bit the part of a fashion-forward workout enthusiast. Her hips and bust seemed almost comically exaggerated against the tight fabric.

As they started their run, they couldn’t help but giggle at their reflections in shop windows, admiring how “hot” they looked. “Oh my God, Jen, like, seriously, we look so totally fab!” Amanda squealed, her voice dripping with a playful, high-pitched excitement. “I’m, like, so obsessed with these leggings. They make my butt look, like, totally amazing!”

Jennifer laughed, twirling slightly so her curls bounced dramatically. “I know, right? These sports bras are, like, the best thing ever. They make, like, everything look so, um, perky!” She smirked, her voice light and carefree. “We totally need to hit up that new mall later. I heard they’ve got, like, the cutest stuff.”

Their conversations had taken a complete turn from their usual professional discussions. Instead of talking about work or goals, they chattered incessantly about makeup trends, shopping, and the best Instagram filters to enhance their photos. “Like, OMG, did you see that new filter? It makes my skin look, like, so perfect,” Jennifer cooed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “We should totally use it for our selfies later!”

Back in their respective jobs, the changes became even more pronounced. Amanda, who had once been known for her rigorous approach to teaching math, now stumbled through her classes in a haze of confusion. Today, she wore a tight, low-cut blouse and a pencil skirt that clung to her curves. Her makeup was more dramatic than ever, with heavy eyeliner and shimmering eyeshadow that made her look like she was ready for a night out rather than a day of teaching.

In the classroom, Amanda’s struggles were evident as she tried to teach quadratic equations. Her explanations were disjointed and incomplete. “Okay, so, like, quadratic equations are, um, totally confusing,” she said, fumbling with her notes. She found herself doodling hearts and stars on the chalkboard, replacing the complex formulas with playful designs while chatting with her students about which celebrities were “totally hot” and “like, so amazing.” Her students looked at her with a mix of confusion and concern, unable to understand the dramatic shift in their teacher’s demeanor.

Jennifer’s day at the law office was equally chaotic. Her professional demeanor had been replaced with a flirtatious and distracted attitude. Today, she wore a form-fitting dress with a plunging neckline and sky-high heels that made her legs look even longer. Her makeup was bold, with bright red lipstick and heavy eye makeup that gave her a sultry appearance.

During a critical client meeting, Jennifer found herself zoning out, her thoughts drifting to the client sitting across from her. She couldn’t help but notice the bulge in his trousers, which, coupled with her new, heightened sense of sensuality, became a focal point of her fantasies. “Like, OMG, is he, like, checking me out or what?” she thought, her gaze lingering on the client’s lap. “I wonder if he’s thinking about me, like, in that way.” Her arguments became disjointed as she imagined the client’s reactions to her increasingly provocative appearance, even fantasizing about posing nude for him, feeling a thrill of excitement at the thought.

Her colleagues, noticing her shift from sharp professionalism to mindless chatter, began to avoid her, unsure of how to handle the new, less competent version of their once-respected attorney.

That evening, both women struggled to maintain a sense of normalcy despite their increasingly bizarre transformations. They briefly discussed their confusing days during a phone call, but their conversation quickly turned to giggles and trivialities. They reassured themselves that it was just a phase and that everything would return to normal soon.

As they prepared for bed, their thoughts were filled with a mix of excitement and unease. Amanda fantasized about trying on a new sexy outfit she had seen online, imagining how exhilarating it would be to flaunt her new curves at a wild party, surrounded by admirers. Jennifer, meanwhile, indulged in daydreams about the thrill of showing off her transformed body in risqué new clothes or posing nude for the client from earlier that day. Both women were oblivious to the fact that their transformations were far from over, and that their new reality was only just beginning.

Day 4: Full-Blown Bimbo Mode

On the fourth day, Jennifer and Amanda had all but abandoned their previous lives. Their transformation had reached a dramatic peak, and it was clear that they were now living in a world of their own creation. When they met for their morning “jog,” they were dressed in outfits that would be more at home in a nightclub than a fitness trail.

Jennifer wore a pair of ultra-tight, black leather leggings that hugged every curve of her lower body. Her top was a barely-there, neon green bralette that left little to the imagination, its minimal coverage accentuating her fuller bust. On her feet, she wore glittering silver stilettos that seemed designed more for show than for function. Her hair, now a voluminous cascade of platinum blonde waves, bounced with every step. Her makeup was heavy and dramatic—bright blue eyeshadow, exaggerated false lashes, and glossy pink lips that sparkled in the morning light.

Amanda’s outfit was similarly provocative: hot pink, mesh leggings that clung to her hips and thighs, paired with a barely-there, rhinestone-studded crop top that showed off her ample cleavage. Her stilettos were an even more dazzling shade of fuchsia, with sky-high heels that added an additional layer of ostentation. Her platinum blonde hair fell in loose waves, and her makeup was equally bold—shimmering violet eyeshadow, thick mascara, and glossy, almost bubblegum pink lips.

As they strutted down the street, their conversation was no longer about work or goals. Instead, they giggled and chatted incessantly about their outfits and who might be “checking them out.”

“Oh my God, Jen, like, do you think anyone’s, like, staring at us?” Amanda asked, twirling slightly to give a better view of her new outfit. “I mean, we look so totally fab!”

Jennifer giggled, adjusting her top and flicking her hair. “Like, for sure, Amanda! I’m, like, totally feeling it. Do you think that guy over there, like, totally wants to get to know us?”

They both laughed hysterically at the thought, their high-pitched giggles echoing down the street. “Oh my God, I bet he does,” Jennifer added, giving her friend a playful shove. “We’re, like, so hot right now.”

At work, the stark contrast from their previous selves was even more apparent. Amanda, who once commanded respect in her math classroom, now found herself utterly incapable of focusing on her teaching. Numbers and equations seemed like a foreign language to her, and she couldn’t tear her gaze away from her own reflection in the window. Her classroom, once filled with rigorous discussions about quadratic equations, now saw her doodling suggestive hearts and other erotic symbols on the board instead of equations. Her students were baffled, unable to comprehend the shift from their once-strict teacher to someone who barely understood basic arithmetic.

“Oh my God, like, I just can’t focus,” Amanda said loudly to her class, pouting as she doodled cocks on the chalkboard. “I need, like, to go shopping or something. It’s, like, so boring here.” Her students exchanged confused glances, unable to reconcile this new version of their teacher with the one they once knew.

Jennifer’s day in court was no better. Her arguments were nonsensical and unfocused, and she spent more time flirting with everyone around her than actually addressing the legal issues at hand. Her outfit—a form-fitting, low-cut dress with a dramatic slit up the side—drew attention in the courtroom, and her every gesture seemed designed to attract more eyes. She flirted with the judge, co-counsel, and even the court clerk, her once formidable legal skills reduced to a series of giggles and suggestive winks.

During a break, Jennifer found herself daydreaming about her latest client. She fantasized about him admiring her transformed body and imagined the thrill of showing off her new curves. Her thoughts were consumed by fantasies of posing provocatively in her risqué outfit or indulging in more explicit encounters, her mind filled with vivid images of being desired and adored.

“Oh my God,” she thought, her mind wandering as she reapplied her lipstick. “What if, like, he’s totally into me? I mean, look at me. I’m, like, so totally hot right now. Maybe I should, like, show him more. Maybe I can, like, asking for a taste of his dick”.

By the end of the day, both women had been effectively pushed out of their professional roles. Their colleagues and students, baffled by the drastic changes in their behavior and appearance, had lost confidence in their abilities. Jennifer and Amanda were left to navigate their new reality, their once successful careers now a distant memory.

That evening, as they prepared for bed, their thoughts were dominated by fantasies of sensuality and excitement. Amanda daydreamed about a wild night out in her new outfits, imagining all the attention and admiration she would receive as she strutted her massive juggs and ass for all the people to see. Jennifer’s thoughts were filled with explicit fantasies, considering the thrill of flaunting her body in front of her clients and indulging in the provocative desires that had taken over her mind. Both of them had massive orgams before drifting to sleep.

As they settled into sleep, it was clear that their transformation was nearly complete, and the lines between their past and present selves had almost entirely vanished.

Day 5: A new purpose

The next morning, Jennifer and Amanda met again—but not for their usual jog. The transformation that had begun a few days earlier had now reached its ultimate conclusion. They were no longer the ambitious professionals who once dominated their respective fields; they had fully embraced their new identities as Jenny and Mandy, two brainless bimbos who had completely abandoned their former selves.

Gone were the professional outfits and sensible shoes. Instead, they now wore skimpy, eye-catching dresses that left little to the imagination. Jenny was clad in a hot pink, sequined mini dress that clung to her every curve, with a plunging neckline that showcased her ample cleavage. The dress ended in a daring hemline that barely covered her upper thighs. Her sky-high stilettos were covered in sparkles, making her already long legs appear even longer and more seductive. Her platinum blonde hair was styled in big, bouncy curls that framed her face, and her makeup was a dramatic display of heavy eyeliner, shimmering eyeshadow, and glossy, bubblegum pink lips.

Mandy’s outfit was equally provocative: a leopard-print bodycon dress that clung tightly to her hips and bust, with a neckline so low that it almost revealed her tits. The dress was cut high on the thighs, emphasizing her long legs. Her heels were a shade of neon red, with strappy details that wrapped around her ankles. Her makeup was bold and excessive—bright, shimmering eyeshadow, thick mascara, and a glossy, red lip that complemented her perfectly styled blonde waves.

As they met up, Jenny and Mandy had no particular plans for the day. They chatted aimlessly, enjoying each other’s company and the excitement of their new appearance. They posed and giggled, absorbed in their transformed selves, but lacked a clear direction for their day.

Their conversation was a constant stream of “like,” “oh my god,” and other vapid expressions as they discussed their outfits and the attention they were getting. They were completely oblivious to the fact that they had no real purpose or plans for the day beyond showing off their new looks.

Their frivolous chatter was interrupted when the bimbo hooker they had seen days before showed up. She took one look at the two transformed women and grinned with satisfaction. She approached them with a confident stride, clearly pleased with their evolution.

“Oh my God, you two are, like, totally perfect for this!” she exclaimed, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm. “I mean, just look at you! You’re, like, totally ready to suck a cock. You can join me on the street. This is where the real fun is, you know?”

Jenny and Mandy exchanged glances, their eyes wide with a mix of curiosity and excitement. The idea of stepping into a new role was intriguing, and they were drawn to the prospect of sucking cocks and being fucked a lot. They had become so absorbed in their transformed selves that the thought of continuing this new lifestyle felt natural.

“Really?” Mandy asked, her voice high-pitched with excitement. “Like, you really think we’d be good at this?”

“Totally!” the prostitute replied with a wink. “You’re, like, already halfway there. Just think of it as, like, an extension of your fabulous selves. It’s gonna be, like, so much fun!”

Jenny giggled, nodding enthusiastically. “Oh my God, that sounds, like, so amazing! We’re, like, so ready for this!”

The three of them shared a round of giggles, their laughter echoing down the street. With the hooker’s encouragement, Jenny and Mandy eagerly agreed to embrace their new roles. They were excited to dive into their new existence as streetwalkers, ready to join the prostitute they had once scorned and to revel in their new lives on the very streets they used to jog through every morning.

Their previous lives and identities were now a distant memory, completely overshadowed by their new personas. The transition was complete, and they were ready to immerse themselves in their new reality, savoring every moment of their carefree, glamorous lives and every cocks they can get in the meantime.