The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Hey Gen, look over there!”

The tallish teen wiped a swath of black hair from in front of her eyes and turned in the general direction Jessica was pointing. “What?”

“That shop over in the corner.”

“You’re retarded, there’s no...” Genevieve did a double-take and tugged at her earlobe. The stray hairs flopped back in front of her nose. “No way!” Sure enough, there was a shiny new glass store front right where the water fountains and pay phones were just yesterday...

“Let’s check it out!” Jessica shuffled across the mall corridor to get a better look.

Hung right above the glass door was a rather small cardboard sign reading “Stockings ’R Us.” Handwritten. In what appeared to be Peach Crayola crayon, no less.

“That’s just De Uu Mm Bb,” Gen huffed, rolling her eyes as she spelled out the word. “I know only lamers like us still come to this mall, but REALLY.” She huffed again, just for emphasis, and grabbed the errant tuft of hair and pushed it back behind her ear. “You’re not EVEN thinking...” she muttered as she looked down at Jessica, who was peering through the glass door. “Let’s just go get your back-to-school outfits and cruise by Outback or something.”

“This is just too weird,” Jessica muttered. “It’s clear, but I can’t even see anything.”

“Well, then it’s not CLEAR, is it, Jess?” Genevieve took a deep breath and coughed. “DUH, I mean, ‘clear’ means you can see through it, right? It can’t really be CLEAR if you can’t see through...” Her English lesson was rudely interrupted by the tinkling of a little bell as her best friend pushed her way through the unclear glass door. “JESS!!!”

“Arrrrrr....” Gen did her best frustrated pirate impression as she balled both hands into fists and rushed through the door after the shorter woman. The tuft of hair fell back across her right eye. “I swear, you are SOO retarded! It’s probably just a lame-o, rip-off...”

“...fake...” Genevieve suddenly stopped, and swept the hair back behind the ear. The shop, such as it was, was empty.

Totally empty.

Except for a door in the rear and a naked female mannequin in one corner.

“See, Miss Retard,” Genevieve swiped a hand at Jessica’s right shoulder. “Someone probably just forgot to lock the door.”

“This is SOO weird,” Jessica whispered as she turned in a circle so as to better take in the whole thing. “What a goofy place to be in a mall.”

“DUHHHH!” Genevieve puffed and walked slowly over to the mannequin. “Like, you know malls are so ‘80s anyway. I’m surprised they don’t have flea market tables all over the place. The only people who go to malls are lamers and people waiting for the bus.”

“Hey,” Jessica snapped. “Just ‘cause you have a car...”

“What?” Genevieve ran two fingers through her hair to keep it in place as she walked past the mannequin towards the door in the rear of the shop. “Don’t go hating on me,” she laughed. “Really, Jess, you’re so jealous, it’s really....EEEK!”

Genevieve suddenly jumped a half foot in the air and came down with one hand over her mouth and eyes wide, staring at the mannequin. “OH MY GOD!” Her hair fell in front of her nose again.

“What?!” Jessica ran over to her.

“It winked at me. I swear the fucking thing WINKED at me!”

“It’s a mannequin, Gen. Mannequin’s don’t wink.” Jessica peered at the naked female clothing dummy. Aside from strangely realistic nipples, fingers and toes, she found it remarkably ordinary. And as far as she could tell, it wasn’t winking.

Genevieve backed slowly away from the mannequin towards the unclear door. “This one does.”

“Maybe she likes you,” came an unfamiliar chuckle from somewhere behind her. Genevieve jumped again.

This time Jessica joined her.

“I’m not quite open yet,” croaked the elderly woman who seemingly appeared out of nowhere. She was wearing a plain white bathrobe with a large, peach-colored monogrammed “W” on one of the shoulders. And a blue pointy hat with stars. Lots of stars. Can’t forget the pointy hat.

The three of them stared at each other for five or six seconds.

Five or six fairly awkward seconds.

“What’s the matter? Never seen a wizard who runs a magical lingerie shop before?”

The two girls shook their heads as one. And inched their way backwards towards the unclear door.

“Eh, can’t say as I blame ya. Far as I can tell it’s a niche market,” she sighed. “What with the Internet and everything, it’s getting harder and harder to find something no one else is selling.”

“Well,” ventured Jessica, hesitantly, as they tried their best to make their way around the little woman, “I...uh...guess...um, “magic....”

The woman chuckled again before interrupting. “Well, ‘magic’ stuff is popping up all over the place. Has been since the beginning of time. But I says to myself, Margie, you got to find something no one else is pushing. And being that the good old US of A is a hotbed of feminist stuff nowadays, what better than stuff that makes women feel GOOD about theyselves.”

“Uh, yeah,” Genevieve forced a smile as they got to within several feet of the exit. “Good luck with that.”

“Well, thankee, I hope every sexy young woman feels like that,” she cackled with a toothless smile, “business will be taking off in no time.” She waved her arms just as the two-headed Gen/Jess monster made it within inches of the door. “Speaking of business...”

Jessica blinked. Then blinked again. Somehow, she wasn’t anywhere near the door anymore. Next to her, Gen let out a little yelp as she realized she wasn’t near the door anymore either. Both of them were in the corner. Next to the mannequin. That was the bad news. The good news was that it wasn’t winking. At the moment, anyway.

“Like I said,” the old woman continued as if nothing strange had happened, “I wasn’t expecting to get customers so soon, but now that you’re here...”

Jess looked at Gen. Gen looked at Jess. They both shot towards the back door.

“...I may as well get an early start.” She turned to look towards where the girls were supposed to be, only to find they weren’t where they were supposed to be. “I wouldn’t go in there if I were...”

Having no interest at all in what she was saying even though they probably should’ve, they opened the door and rushed headlong into...a dressing room—a little, bitty dressing room, with three mirrors on the walls and one on the back of the door, which Gen closed behind them without thinking.

The “without thinking” part turned out to be fairly important because when Jess fumbled around to find the light switch and flipped it the very first thing both of them noticed was that neither one of them was wearing any clothes.

“Aaaaaiiiiiiiiiaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiii!!!!!!”

Inside the shop, the horrible shriek (in stereo, even) from behind the closed door sent the old lady wizard two feet in the air, which gave her a pretty good view of her shop full of nothing. It was all she could do to keep her pointy hat from falling off her head. “Eh, what is it?” she yelled loudly through the closed door. “Roaches? Rats?”

“What happened to our clothes, you old pervert?!!!”

Margie removed her hat and blew some dust off it. “That’s my changing room. You bring the merchandize in with you and it changes outfits for you. Saves time and time is money. But since you went in with nothing, well...”

“So where are our clothes?!!!”

Margie rolled her eyes and replaced her hat. Explaining magic to mortals with no imagination whatsoever was not her strong suit. “They show back up when you leave the room.” She chuckled to herself and added, “Usually.”

“Usually???!!!!!”

“Well, the clothes have a way of knowing if you plan to pay for them or rip me off. Let’s just say that shoplifters usually find the outfits aren’t worth the embarrassment of having to run through the mall and parking lot buck nekkid.”

The silence was deafening. Margie drew a deep sigh. “You aren’t planning on ripping me off, are you?”

“Listen, you crazy old lady, you don’t even have anything to rip off.”

“Oh, good point,” she shrugged. “Then you should have nothing to worry about.”

Inside the room, Gen and Jess were trying their best to hide from one another. This, as you can imagine, was difficult to do in a teeny tiny room with mirrors everywhere.

“Close your eyes,” Gen said, wrapping her arms around herself. “I don’t want you looking at me.”

“Me?!” I’m the one who you keep saying needs to drop ten pounds. You close yours.”

“You first.”

“No, you first.”

“Hey, is that a new tattoo?”

“Yeah...you like it? I wanted either a rose or a butterfly...”

“You should’ve gotten the rose.”

Jess reached over and flicked the light switch off.

“OWWWWW.”

Outside the door, Margie looked at her watch. “You know, we wizards usually live for five thousand years, but I don’t think you two can wait that long.” She put her ear to the door.

“You first.”

“No, YOU first.”

“Listen, you’re just being retarded. That glass is so dark no one’s gonna see anything anyway.”

“Then you go.”

“No, you go.”

“Okay, on the count of three, I’ll open the door and we’ll both go out at the same time.”

“Fine.”

“One...”

Margie rolled her eyes, grabbed a hold of the door handle and yanked. Hard.

Suddenly Jessica felt a strong gust of air coming from somewhere she couldn’t see (it was dark, remember?) pushing her out into the shop. Genevieve, who had grabbed onto her friend’s shoulder, fully intending to shove her out on the count of two, followed closely behind and somehow managed not to trip over her, despite her two-inch heels. This was actually good news, because it meant that she was, indeed, once again wearing shoes.

Jessica instinctively reached down to cross her arms over her ample boobage before she realized her blouse had re-appeared. “That was just...freaky.”

“This whole place is freaky,” Gen snarked, suddenly remembering why they ran into the changing room in the first place. She caught the mannequin out of the corner of her eye. “Yikes.”

“Oh, you noticed Desdemona’s got a new look, eh?” Margie said with a wink. Jessica peered at the mannequin which was, like she and Genevieve, no longer naked. Fitted snuggly around its ample shape was a bright red corset.

Gen shuddered, but it didn’t have anything to do with the clothing. “It’s fucking SMILING at me.”

“Of course, she’s smiling, silly girl,” Margie chuckled as she walked over to the mannequin. She’s wearing the brand new ‘I Can’t Believe it’s a Corset’ from the wizards at PlayerTex Laboratories.” She ran her weathered fingers across the fabric. “This puppy is guaranteed to take anywhere from 10-50 pounds off as long as you wear it.”

Clearly not swayed by the sales pitch, Genevieve ducked behind Jessica and pointed. “Jess, see, I TOLD you it was winking at me! You see it smiling, right? That’s just so WRONG!”

“Oh, now, you’ve gone and hurt her feelings,” Margie sighed as Desdemona’s smile turned abruptly upside down.

Genevieve stood up straight, but didn’t move from behind her friend. “Oh, that’s just great. Fine. It’s one of those window performers, right? The kind with face paint that stands there all silent and still and stuff, then scares the shit out of little kids when they walk by, right?”

“No, she’s pretty plastic.” Margie shrugged and tapped the mannequin’s arm, resulting in a hollow echoing kind of sound. “Though not nearly as plastic as some women I’ve run into in the last couple decades,” she mumbled. “She’s an interesting story, but not one I’m sure you’re interested in hearing at the moment.”

“Oh, yeah, right. Like some Japanese robot thing, right? I read on the Internet that they have those that model wedding dresses, right Jess? They make ‘em so that they can walk down runways and...” She suddenly realized that Jessica didn’t seem to be paying attention to her, so she slugged her on the shoulder. “Jess!”

Margie laughed and noted that Jessica had been staring at the mannequin during Gen’s entire spiel. Or, more specifically, at the corset. “Oh, I think your friend here has maybe found something she likes?”

Gen took a deep breath and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. She’s the president of the debate club and gets As in trig. Like she’s gonna go get all retarded over some dumb sales pitch from a crazy wizard lady.”

Margie poked herself in the belly and slapped her butt, which isn’t really something I want to describe further. “I can’t say as I blame ya, girlfriend,” she said, looking sideways at Jessica and patting Desdemona’s corseted, yet taught and firm, midsection. “If I had one of these babies back in the day, I wouldn’t have had to memorize all those stupid weight loss spells that never seemed to work for more than a week at a time. Then there’s the ones that make your butt get small and suddenly all the pounds go to your thighs or your feet swell up so you gotta wear combat boots and...Well, you don’t wanna hear about all that ugly stuff, do ya?”

“Of course, she doesn’t,” Gen grabbed Jess by the elbow and once again tried her best to inch the two them towards the glass door of the shop. “Even I’m not stupid enough to believe in some magic torture girdle...”

“How does it work?” Gen had managed to twist Jessica’s arm around behind her, but the shorter girl’s head was still fixated on the corset.

“Happy you asked,” Margie cackled, and suddenly the room was filled with soft smoke (peach-scented, of course).

“What kind of retarded...?” Genevieve let out a short yelp and waved her offhand in front of her face. “C’mon, Jess let’s...” she started, then noticed that Jessica’s arm had gone...cold. Looking back, she realized she was holding on to the arm of the mannequin, which was now wearing Jessica’s clothes. And looking down at her with an absolutely evil grin on its face.

“Aiaiaiaiaia!!!!”

Meanwhile, in the changing room, Jessica noticed several things pretty much immediately, even before she opened her eyes. First, her legs were cold. Second, she felt...lighter. And third, she had a bit of a time catching her breath.

“Too tight?” came a now familiar voice behind her. “Cause if it is, it’s amazingly adjustable.”

Jess opened her eyes and looked down and couldn’t see her feet. That in itself was fairly normal because her boobs were big and her tummy was bigger. But she noticed she couldn’t see her tummy either because her tummy had shrunk or her boobs had grown. Or both. In the back of her mind, she quickly prayed for both, but figured that was too much to ask...

She felt something touch her back and suddenly she could see her tummy again, but it was much easier to breathe. “You just reach back here and adjust this knobby thing on the small of your back...”

“Uh, can I try that again?” Quickly, Jess reached her hands back behind herself and felt Margie’s hands lead hers to what seemed to be a dial thing about the size of a quarter on the corset right above her rather ample backside.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew the whole thing was wickedly wrong—she was standing half naked in a magical red corset with a crone wearing a bathrobe and a pointy hat. But the last time she could look straight down and not see her tummy was in junior high school...and that thought went a loooong way to pushing wicked right into the attic along with her old Barbies and Bobby Scott and her virginity...

“You want it tighter and lighter, you twist it slowly this way,” Margie cackled. “You want to go back toward your old boring, heavy self, you twist it slowly this way.” Jessica took a deep breath and twisted, watching in amazement as her stomach actually shrank as her boobs grew out, slowly flowing over the top of the red garment.

“This is just...weird.” She glanced at one of the side mirrors and noted that her tummy wasn’t just shrinking, displacing the pounds to her butt and boobs. Sure, her boobs were growing, but her butt seemed to be getting smaller as well. “I don’t understand...”

“Neither do I, honey,” Margie cackled. “I just sell ‘em. They actually guarantee you lose the pounds, not just move ‘em around.”

“That’s not possible,” Jessica said, but she was too busy admiring herself in the mirror to put a whole lot of emphasis on it.

Margie smiled, snapped her fingers and pointed to a bathroom scale that wasn’t there just moments before. “Well, why don’t we find out?”

Giving a nervous shrug, Jess stepped on the scale and looked down over her boobs. Either the scale was wrong or she had, indeed dropped ten pounds by simply putting on the magic red corset. “They say it can drop up to fifty pounds, but my experiences with these things tell me that the further you go towards the high end of the promises, the more chance there is of something going wrong...”

“But where does it...you know...?” It was another half-hearted attempt at logic from somewhere before the time when a third of her tummy magically disappeared.

“Darned if I know,” Margie’s hat twisted of its own accord on her head. “But I got a neat idea. You know those stories about how some critters suddenly grow to monster size without eating and all that other stuff that would drive Einstein and Sir Newton and all the other smart guys crazy? Like the aliens in “Alien” and such. One minute they’s teeny tiny and ten minutes later they all weigh as much as Hulk Hogan. I just figure that’s where all the pounds from all the ladies using the PlayerTex Lab stuff go. Somewheres out in space, some space man or woman’s getting eaten ‘cause some lady down here wants to get some college quarterback in the sack.”

“Ooookay.” Jessica reached down under a breast and continued to admire her new self in the mirror. “I’ll try not to think too much about it.”

“That’s the spirit!” Margie cackled. “Besides, most of ‘em are so dumb they deserve to get eaten.” She noticed Jess staring at herself. “Now, you can’t go out in the middle of the day undressed like that. And what you came in with would be all droopy.” She snapped her fingers again and Jessica found herself wearing a knee-length scarlet red cocktail dress with no bra. Jess looked down and all she could see were two big boobies and erect nipples, a couple of carnival barkers inviting any and all to the big show. “Oops, I don’t think you’d make it to the parking lot in that,” Margie laughed and snapped her fingers again and Jessica found herself in a white wedding gown. Her cheeks suddenly got as red as the corset. “Oh, bother, that’s getting ahead of myself, isn’t it?” Margie cackled and snapped her fingers once again. Jessica suppressed a laugh as the ditzy wizard, trying to go the other way, had her outfitted in skiing gear, complete with a fur coat and goggles. Never mind it was August and the nearest mountains were thousands of miles away.

Margie sighed. “Now I remember why I went into underwear.”

She was just about to try again, when Genevieve started pounding on the changing room door. “Hello! Crazy witch lady! You in there?!”

“Yeah, yeah, almost done, no need to get violent.” Margie put a finger under her three chins and pondered as much as she could ponder with an angry woman banging on a door a foot away from her. “I guess maybe I could just do some alterations to what you wore in here. Probably better you should pick your own outfits anyway, seeing that with the ‘I Can’t Believe It’s a Corset,’ you can buy five sizes worth of clothes and always have something to wear!”

“You better let my friend go or I’ll call the mall cops. Or the real cops. Or the witch cops! Or the underwear police!”

Margie smiled and looked over at Jessica, who was fiddling with the dial on the back of the corset. “I should’ve gone into advertising! Those guys at PlayerTex got a gold mine here if they knew how to sell it.”

At that, Jessica’s shoulders shrunk and her smile turned to a pout. “Uh, how much...?”

Margie cackled. She was really good at cackling, having had thousands of years to perfect it. “I only have the one, so I really can’t sell it.”

“Huh?” Jessica started to feel a sniffle coming on as she glanced sideways at her newly sculpted body. “Then why...?”

“I said I couldn’t sell it,” Margie replied, and tugged at a sleeve of her robe. “I never said you couldn’t borrow it until I get more in. As you can imagine, they’re a hot item and I have a ton on back order. I’m a week or so away from opening up and don’t have no capital, so I can’t advertise. But I’m old school and word of mouth has worked for centuries. I figure you and your friend might as well be a good place to start...”

“Cool!” Jessica laughed. “We’ll tell everyone! I’m not the most popular person in the world...”

“Oh, I have a feeling that may change,” Margie interrupted with a wink. She lowered her voice. “Sometimes these enchanted clothes have things they don’t advertise.”

“Hey!” Genevieve hadn’t given up. “I’m serious out here! My dad knows the mayor!”

Jessica huffed and rolled her eyes. “Oh, give it a rest already, Gen!” she yelled through the door. “Not everything’s about you!”

Gen rattled the knob of the locked door. “Oh, right. You get kidnapped in a puff of smoke by a crazy old witch lady and it’s all about me, right?”

Inside the room, Margie laughed. “Your friend is funny. What’s her name again?”

“Genevieve.” Jessica went back to admiring herself, running her hands over her slimmed down tummy. She felt a draft between her legs and wondered why it had taken her so long to really care that she wasn’t wearing anything down there. “She’s really a nice person inside, but you have to really look deep.” On second thought, she really didn’t care she wasn’t wearing anything down there. She bent backward slightly and her hand strayed to that dial...

Gen swept the tuft of hair back over her ear and put her head to the door. “Hey, I heard my name!”

“So,” Margie mused. “What kind of finery do you think Genevieve would like?”

“Gen?” Jessica sighed, and bent forward, running a hand between her boobs, wondering why she’d been reluctant to do it before now. She’d always been “gifted” in that way, but not like this. They even felt more firm. Taking another deep breath, she twisted the dial slowly... “Gen doesn’t need anything, she’s gorgeous.”

“Are you talking about me?!” Gen pressed her ear closer to the door.

Margie leaned against one of the mirrors and smiled as the corset magically squeezed Jessica’s pounds away. “Gets all the boys, does she?”

“Wow,” Jessica said under her breath as her eyes widened at the sight of her midsection melting away. It was if her eyes were glued to the mirror, taking all her common sense along for the ride. “She could have all the boys she wants if she wasn’t so fucking shy around them.” Did she say ‘fucking?’

“Hey, I heard that!” Gen balled up a fist. “You are SO not sharing the secrets of my love life with some crazy old retarded witch lady!”

Suddenly, Jessica found herself gasping for breath, but still she couldn’t break her attention away from the Jess in the mirror. Margie reached around and twisted the dial. “Careful, darlin’, you’ll squeeze yourself to death.” She snapped her fingers and a stool appeared in one corner of the room. “Can’t have my first customers squeezed to death on me. Bad for business.”

Jess sat down on the stool, but her eyes remained focused on the woman in the mirror. She had to be twenty pounds lighter than Jessica Garcia. As soon as she could manage it, she ran over to the scale, which (lucky for her) wasn’t much of a run because she couldn’t take anything more than short breaths.

Twenty-five pounds.

She almost fainted.

“Hey! You okay in there?!”

“Yeah,” Jessica giggled as she ran a hand through her hair and stared at the mirror, watching herself absent-mindedly tweak a nipple. “Perfect.”