The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The house was absolutely gorgeous. The exterior was made of brick, each window had white, decorative shutters, and the second floor had two white-painted wood balconies, poised underneath the upstairs windows. The steep, black roof sloped gracefully down to the gutters, hanging ever so slightly over the side walls. It looks just like our house. Sam thought. More surprisingly, every house in the neighborhood looked identical, down to the flowers in the garden.

Her mother rang the doorbell. The curtain behind the glass window fluttered aside, and a strikingly beautiful woman looked out, with a smile as wide as her face. She unlocked the door and opened it inward. Sam was immediately taken aback by the woman’s style. She had on a 50’s inspired flowery dress, contouring to her waist and flaring out at the knees, with buttons leading from wide belt to an impeccably ironed collar, all but one of which was buttoned. She had on a white sweater, but she wasn’t wearing the sleeves, she allowed it to hang off her shoulders, the top button-hole connected to the button by a gold chain.

“Michelle! I’m so glad you could come.” She said, folding her hands together just below her bosom, tilting her head slightly, maintaining her smile. “You must be Daniel, and you must be Samantha! Such a beautiful girl. What a pleasure to meet the both of you!” She reached out her hand to both of them, Sam noticed the pearl earrings behind her bob haircut, and how perfectly the shade of her fingernails matched her dress.

“Sam, please. Nice to meet you too.”

“Sam, how...masculine.” Janet said below her breath, leaning close enough for Sam to smell her perfume. It was subtle, but it was strong, filling up Sam’s nose, clouding her thoughts. In fact, the entire house had the faint sent of whatever that perfume was.

“What am I doing keeping you out on the porch. Please, do come in!” Janet said, stepping aside to allow them entrance. The inside of the house was even more beautiful than the outside. Every piece of furniture—from the bureau standing below an oval mirror, to the coat rack next to the door, with it’s Burberry scarves, hats of different, and very old, styles, and sweaters—were all made out of a deep red mahogany. Moving through the eggshell painted hallway, they stopped in the kitchen, and sat at the marble island in the middle of the wood-tiled room.

“I must apologize that I’m the only person here, but my husband is busy at work and my daughter is out at the country club. She should be home any minute, and I’m sure you’ll love her, Sam. Make yourself at home, and I’ll have the food ready in a few minutes!” She smiled and turned towards the oven, while Sam and her parents kept staring in awe at the wonderful house.

“Hello, mother!” Janet’s daughter, smiling, walked in through the garage and kissed her on the cheek. “I see we have visitors.”

“Yes, these are our new next door neighbors. This is Michelle, Daniel, and Sam. Everyone, this is my daughter, Jessica.”

“So nice to meet you all. Samantha, will you be starting school with us?”

For some reason, she didn’t mind being called by her full name. And as she looked at the girl standing in front of her, she felt something else, even stranger. Sam had never been a tomboy, but she wasn’t a girly-girl, either. She usually wore a plain t-shirt, jeans or sweatpants, and sparse jewelry and makeup. She only would wear a dress or skirt when absolutely necessary, and even then she’d put up a struggle, and take it off as soon as she could, but, standing next to Jessica and her mother, she felt under dressed.

Jessica had on a pink-and-green Lily Pulitzer dress, the patterns, lines, and coloring alternating down from just above her breasts to three inches above her knee. She had on matching pink heels, and a pink cable knit sweater tied gracefully over her shoulders. Her hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail, showing off the pearl studs in her ears. Sam couldn’t help but be impressed at how...well...perfect this girl looked. She felt ashamed in her simple clothes, her messy hair.

“Yeah, I’ll be starting on Monday.” Sam said. She wasn’t sure why, but she was jealous of the girl standing in front of her. How pretty she looked, how...she wasn’t sure what the right word was.

“That’s wonderful! Oh, I must go upstairs for a moment to put some things in order. Would you care to join me?”

“What a splendid idea!” Janet said, putting an arm around her daughter, who looked up at her lovingly. “You two get to know each other, and the adults will stay down here and talk.”

“Great, mother. We’ll be down in a few minutes.” Jessica kissed her mother’s cheek again, grabbed Sam’s arm, and started walking briskly towards the stairs.

As she trailed behind her new friend, she noticed the slight wiggle in her walk, the femininity in each step, and remembered what Janet had said at the door.

Sam...how masculine.

If Sam was impressed with her hostess’s mode of dress and interior design, she was doubly impressed with Jessica’s room. The light pink walls matched the paisley bedspread over her queen-sized, four-post bed centered against the back wall, on top of a white rug. There were no posters, no clutter of any kind. Each surface was sparkling, perfectly clean, and organized; the complete opposite of a teenage girls room.

“What a nice room.” Sam said, almost breathless.

“Do you think so?” Jessica said, popping her head from behind the large walk-in closet. Sam caught a glimpse inside, and noticed the closet was the size of her old bedroom, if not bigger. “Come in here for a second, I want to give you a welcoming present.” Jessica’s smile was radiant, and the excitement could be read on her face like like a book.

Sam walked in, past different colored heels, flats, and boots lining the floor, shelves of handbags, and racks upon racks of polos, dresses, sweaters, and skirts innumerable lined up by color. A perfect rainbow of clothing hung on each wall, and it seemed that no two article was identical, as if there was a different outfit for everyday of the year, and limitless combinations. Once again, Sam looked down at her own outfit and felt inadequacy continue to creep in.

Jessica was standing at the back wall of the closet, her hands behind her back. As Sam walked closer, she noticed out of the corner of her eye several rolled up posters, one of which was Marilyn Manson, which came as quite a shock, to think of this beautiful, preppy girl as a fan of anything other than classical music.

“You’re a Manson fan?”

“I used to be, yes. Him, Slayer, Rob Zombie, but I grew out of all of that.” Jessica said all of this without any hint of nostalgia, as if she took great pride in giving up such bands. She took her hands from behind her back, and produced a small jewelry box.

“What’s this?” Sam asked, smiling at Jessica’s generosity and kindness.

“Open it!”

She did, and was excited and confused. Inside the box, sticking out of a velvet holder, were two pearl studs, almost identical to the ones in Jessica’s ears.

“Thank you, but, why are you giving these to me?” Sam asked.

“Well, I have several pairs, and I noticed you don’t wear much jewelry, and I wanted you to have something nice.”

Sam felt the poke of the tiny barb opening a rift in her confusion. “What do you mean, you want me to have something nice?” The anger was beginning to drip from her teeth.

“Oh, I am so sorry! I did not mean to offend! I just meant that I’d like for you to have them, is all. Please forgive me, sometimes my mouth moves quicker than my brain.” She gave a slight giggle, and Sam could see the genuine feeling of shame on her face.

“Well, thank you.” She said, pocketing the box. To try and break the awkward silence, she asked, “So what is there to do for fun around here?”

Jessica brightened up quickly, glad to see she was forgiven. “Oh, there is just so much! We have tennis courts, polo, cricket, all at the country club! What do you like to do?”

“I’ve played some soccer, softball, volleyball. I can get a bit competitive.” She laughed, but Jessica didn’t seem to find it funny.

“Such...masculine sports. Interesting.” There was that word again. “I think you should come to the country club with me. I’ll be going tomorrow in the afternoon, if you would like to join me.”

Despite the crack about having nothing nice, and the judgment about “masculinity”, she was intrigued. “Yeah, would you mind picking me up tomorrow?”

“It would be my pleasure! I’ll come by around noon!” Jessica was very excited, and hugged her new friend. Sam could again smell that perfume that seemed to permeate over every surface, and returned the hug, feeling the soft fabric of Jessica’s clothing, feeling how tightly they fit to her figure, feeling herself wondering what she might look like in an outfit like that.

Her parents called up to her and said they were leaving. They ended their embrace, and Jessica kissed Sam on the cheek.

Sam surprised herself, and kissed Jessica back on her cheek.

Later that evening, with most of the boxes finally put away, Sam again felt confused. She had never been interested in dressing up, and she couldn’t figure out why she had been so impressed by her neighbors style. She never thought of herself as elegent, or graceful, and she was perfectly content with that. But why had she felt differently inside Jessica’s home? She mulled this over while playing with the pearls in her fingers. She could hear a faint buzzing, seeming to come from the earrings. She held one up to her ear, and could tell it was definitely coming from the earring.

In one swift motion, she put one, then the other into each ear, almost as if compulsively, unconsciously.

She stood up from her bed, and walked to the mirror. She saw herself as she always did, but another part saw a messy, unkempt, improper, masculine girl.

Shocked at the thought, popping up from nowhere, she went to bed. She hadn’t attempted removing the earrings.

Samantha woke up and went into her closet. She saw all of the things she had unpacked before: Row upon row of brightly colored polos with matching skirts, pastel dresses, and different sized heels and boots stretching for miles. She wanted to run through the infinitely sized closet and put on every combination. Instead, she kept walking, brushing her hand against the dresses, feeling the soft fabric rub on her skin, wishing she could stop and put one on, wanting to feel the cloth on her body, tight on her chest and waist, loosening to her knees, feeling the breeze running on her legs (maybe if i wear stockings oh how wonderful would THAT feel), wanting to twirl, watching the skirt rise up and out, like a ballerina (should have taken dance should learn to dance at least waltz) on stage. She turned right down a darkened hallway. No lights shown. She felt hands on her, all over her, smoothing and caressing her body, making her feel wonderful. When she reached the end of the hallway, a single light flickered to life on top of a full-length mirror. Large pink flowers were sprouting on a field of green on the dress of the girl in the mirror. A small pink ribbon was tied just below her bosom. Not only did she have the pearl earrings, she also had a matching pearl necklace and bracelet. She noticed her shoulders were bare, so she materialized a white sweater. It switched between fully-on-and-buttoned to unbuttoned to on-with-arms-out-of-sleeves and finally landing on wrapped-around-shoulders-falling-down-back. Her hair was full of curls, spiraling down around the edge of her face, held back by bobby pins (perfect preppy prim and proper perfect preppy prim and proper i love it i love it i look beautiful preppy preppy). She smiled at her reflection, which smiled back at her, radiantly, beautifully, femininely.

Sam woke up and went into her closet. She saw all of the things she had unpacked before: Plain shirts, jeans, sweatpants, shorts. She breathed a sigh of relief. It was the closest thing to a nightmare Sam had had since she was a little girl. But there was no bogeyman in her closet last night, just miles of clothes she’d never wanted, feelings she’d never asked for, and a girl who was not, and would never be her. She didn’t see herself reflected in the mirror, she saw a monster. She had a sneaking suspicion that the monster wasn’t just in the mirror, or in her dreams.

It was now growing inside of her.

It was noon, Saturday. A knock on the door; Jessica had arrived. She remembered agreeing to go to the country club with her neighbor, but she couldn’t remember why. She opened the door, saw Jessica smiling at her from the porch. Today she had on a light blue dress with dark blue vines running up it. She was holding a shopping bag in her left hand. Before Sam could invite her in, Jessica gave her a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, and her mind began to haze over again.

“I see you’ve decided to wear the pearls! You look wonderful! Here, I brought you something else.” Jessica said, almost too fast for Sam(antha) to take it all in. Inside the bag was a neatly folded dress of yellow and blue. Sam(antha) smiled at it, and then her friend. “There is a dress code; you must look proper for the club!”

“Thank you so much! Come in, let me get changed.” She stepped into the bathroom and locked the door. She was looking in the mirror, noticing a glow coming from her face, a natural effervescence, and her smile doubled the effect. She turned away from the mirror and began to undress. She began to wonder why she was getting into the dress, why she accepted it from that girl, why she was even talking to that girl. Sitting on top of the toilet was a bowl of her mom’s homemade potpourri, which she was allergic to. She felt her mind begin to clear, she could hear the clicking of gears as her brain began to piece things together.

My weird thoughts.

That smell.

The posters in her closet.

The dream.

Her nose began to stuff with snot from the allergen. She lost the desire to wear the dress, the desire to go to the country club. She had to, though. She had to keep appearances, had to make Jessica believe she were still interested. If the things that she thought really were connected, she had to take a chance, see if she couldn’t stop it, and see if there was another side to her neighbor, a side that was put behind a wall, a part of her that was being hidden, much the same as what she thought was happening to her. She put the dress on, looked in the mirror, and smiled again (perfect preppy prim and proper perfect preppy). There must be something else, but what? She decided she’d figure it out later. She took some of the potpourri, stuffed it in her nose, and kept some in her purse, and walked out to meet her “friend”.

She had a mission to accomplish.

Sam and Jessica walked through the large, well-lit corridors in the club. Jessica was smiling, waving as she passed by the people she knew, the people Sam assumed went to school with them.

The people Sam assumed weren’t really like this under the surface.

The pair stopped in front of a set of white-oak double doors. Jessica turned to Sam and smiled.

“I must speak with the owner, Mr. Barrington. Will you be okay on your own for a few moments?”

Sam did her best to return her smile, finding it difficult to fake such a strange, manufactured look. “Of course. I can keep myself occupied while you speak to the owner. I would like to meet him myself, he seems like such a wonderful man.” She noticed how easily the words flowed from her, how plainly the bubbles floated out of her mouth, and wondering if it was her own head, or a side effect of whatever was trying to take her over.

“He’d be delighted to meet you as well. You will get your chance soon enough.” Jessica stepped into the room, and Sam broke right as soon as the door clicked shut.

“How is her progress?” Mr. Barrington asked, pointing to a chair infront of his desk, silently commanding her to sit. She folded the hem of her skirt below her, and sat up straight, prim.

“Very well, sir. So far, the target has been more than receptive. Despite the old model of pearl, she seems to be moving at a quick pace.”

“Yes, it is a shame you had to give her the last generation. As you know, they tend to break down after several months, which is why you receive a new pair every few weeks.”

“Of course, sir.”

“It will still be suggestive to her, guiding her thoughts, changing her. We can get her a new pair soon. We’ve been working on a new system, one that should not break down over time.”

“That is wonderful to hear, sir! I am always so excited for your latest advancements!”

“As you should be, and, soon, as your friend shall be.”

She didn’t know exactly what she was looking for, but she thought she might know when she found it. The hallways were nearly identical, all doors opening up to God knows where, corridors that branch off to unknown places. Finally, she stumbled upon a different door. It was made of metal, and looked like an emergency exit.

Staff only. Maintenance and Control Panels.

Bingo.

Sam turned her head both ways, and slipped inside the door. Cold air-conditioning was keeping the bank of servers cooled down, and a shiver ran down Sam’s back (should have brought a sweater). She walked up and down the aisles of machines, all beeping and humming, looking for anything that she could use, something to override the system, anything. She spotted a hammer on top of a work table.

Close enough.

She grabbed the hammer, felt its weight in her hand, and began to swing. Pieces of machinery, shards of glass, and sparks flew all around her. She couldn’t know whether or not what she was doing was right, but at least she was doing something.

A high pitch, well above the audible range, was beginning to go off. Jessica began to sag in her seat, losing her smile. The pitch dropped. She screamed, practically ripping the pearls from her ears. Terror crossed her eyes. What was she doing here? Why was she dressed this way? What the hell was going on? A door began to open, and Jess, tired and weak from weeks spent in a mental prison, was set free. She ran through door after door, running down hallway after hallway, running blindly, looking for an exit. Eventually, she came back into herself, teary eyed, almost tripping over her heels, kicked them off, and ran for the door.

Barrington, knowing exactly what was happening, expecting this, knew he wouldn’t need security. He would be ready.

A high pitch, well above audible range, was beginning to go off. Sam looked at what she had done, realizing her mistake.

Bad girl.

That is not the way a proper young lady behaves.

I have ruined a wonderful thing.

She dropped her hammer, tears streaming down her face. How dare she take a wonderful gift given to this town by Mr. Barrington and destroy it? What had come over her? She simply must apologize, and make it up to him. She opened the door, and he was already waiting.

“Oh, Mr. Barrington, I am so sorry!” Samantha stuttered through sobs and gasps. “Please, sir, forgive me! I will do whatever it takes!”

“Well, Samantha, I think I have the perfect solution.” He held her close, comforting her, as she realized the gravity of the situation, desperate to make it right. Around them, proper ladies and gentlemen were walking around, confused, dazed, some running, some crying, some sitting head-in-hands. In one fell swoop, everybody who had been imprisoned by the Barrington Estate Country Club was set free, for the time being. Mr. Barrington already had a plan, and he had a perfect accomplice. Next time, he would not let this happen.

Next time would be permanent.