The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Still trapped in Stepford. Still a proud tomboy. And I’ll never be caught dead with these super-girly girls, which means I’m pretty much hanging out with the guys.

No problem, right? It’s just these Stepford dudes are sexist. Sure, they let me tag along with them, but their talk is all “Not bad, for a girl!” or “Cool bitch, now make me a sandwich” and it’s obvious that they’d respect me more if I had a dick.

Back home I’d get the boys’ respect by kicking their asses at video games or mountain biking. By being awesome in other words, but in this town, I feel the guys just put up with me no matter how hard I try.

I want my male buddies to treat me the same as if I were a dude. What can I do?

Dear Harriet

Oh honey, you’re the envy of a lot of ladies, hanging out with the boys like that. Bet those guy friends of yours are really hot right? Oh sorry, there I go talking about the wrong thing.

Respect you as much as a boy? Well boys and girls really are different creatures; you may not know it yet but soon you’ll figure out that they have a different kind of respect for you. The lads of Stepford can be perfect gentlemen to a lady such as yourself.

Hee, hee oh trust me sweetie, you’ll soon love it.

This job is getting worse.

My Boss, the sexist tyrant makes me do the most remedial chores, reducing me to a secretary when my qualifications clearly state I’m a trained actuary with more years of experience than half of the men on the team.

God the more I spend time with him, the more I loathe him.

And the rest of the men in the office, jokingly call me Mrs. Boss, saying that the pig and I have a good marriage going. Ugh! They’re driving me up the wall and halfway across the ceiling with that crap.

Plus, it’s hell listening to what else they have to say. These men brag about breaking their wives or girlfriends, like you’d break in a horse. One particular priggish man bragged how he forced his girlfriend to give up her job and laughed that she’s now moping around the house bored and restless, but he assures us she’ll soon discover her inner housewife.

I want to be sick.

I should quit but no other business in this town will hire a woman. It sucks but I’ve got nowhere else to go. I’m trapped in a job I hate. What can I do?

Ah, I’m so sorry to hear you’re upset. A few out of towners find our Stepford ways a little repulsive at first. But my dear, ask yourself, why do the men at the office upset you? Is it because they’re not bra burning feminists but honest to God traditionalists? If you’re willing to accept the fact that men and women aren’t equal and earning wages is a man’s sphere, then you won’t be so miserable, in fact Stepford will make a lot more sense.

Relax and don’t stress over your job so much.

My Gender Studies course is still sliding into the mud but what’s now got my goat is that none of the other students seem to care. Aren’t we proud feminists, signing up to fight against this traditional gender crap! But the other girls, whom I thought were as committed to feminism as me, seem to have accepted the way the course has gone, and they keep telling me to lighten up whilst they bake apple pies and apply lipstick.

All that really matters is the passing grade, right? But I don’t think I can pass!

I’m bad at this course, really bad, I mean before I was the straight A student, now I’m the hopeless kid, barely able to microwave a TV dinner, whilst everyone else has learnt to cook Sunday roast! Christ I’m sorry professor but I didn’t go to college to learn how to scrub a dirty floor!

There’s a dumb giggling girl, shoved into college thanks to her rich parents and in this newly minted Housewife camp, she’s become the star pupil, an expert on hoovering and baking. And yes, I hate knowing that someone as dumb as her is outshining me.

So depressing, so very depressing! What can I do?

So, the high and mighty feminist discovers that housework isn’t as easy as it’s cracked up to be. Fancy that.

My advice is you ask your mother or your professor for some extracurricular activities, why not vacuum your apartment or offer to do chores for your flatmates.

Whatever your living arrangement is, try and practice. I’m thinking that being down on your hands and knees, scrubbing clean the insides of an oven might make you discover your inner housewife.

Just joking!

Well it’s happening, me and my girlfriend are visiting Stepford for a month or so.

Susie and I had plans to start an internship over the summer with a Californian based software company but that didn’t fall through, so with Susie’s family going on vacation and renting out their apartment, I had no choice but to phone my dad.

My old man’s eager enough to let us stay but I’m not sure Susie and I are cut out for Stepford. I’m six foot three inches, and a mere 130 pounds, Susie’s five foot four and weighs 300 pounds, and no we’re not ashamed of it, just that a beanpole and a beachball walking amongst Herculean men and voluptuous women seems a bit comical.

You might catch a glimpse of us out and about if you’re lucky.

Anyhow I’m still on edge if you don’t mind me saying so, I’ve read about cults and brainwashing and supposedly sweet small-town communities holding sinister underbellies. I hope I’m not insulting you, but I suspect something’s up with Stepford, call it a hunch.

I’m guessing the library has a few books on local history, right? And what places can two nerds like Susie and I visit when we’re here?

That’s great to hear that you’ll come down to our neck of the woods. I guess the ace reporter might learn a little.

And don’t worry about being out of shape, us Stepford folk are great at helping anyone get off their fat butt and lose the pounds or gain a little muscle.

As for us being a cult? If serving Lord Jesus makes us a cult can’t you say that about half of America.

And yes, books and articles on local history are available at our town library. There’s a lot of useful information for a boffin such as yourself.

Now as for local attractions? Well for the men, there’s the bowling alley and there’s a few bars. Joe’s Bar on Faker Street serves the finest beer or so my husband tells me. Us women are discouraged from going there.

And a good family owned restaurant, I’ll always recommend is Martha’s Gardens, a slice of heaven with every bite.

That’s it for now, hope you enjoy your stay and why not report to me on your investigation?