The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Fiona had no clear recollection of the previous night, it all had a dreamlike quality which seemed right because it hadn’t really been her at the frat party, it had been Mandy. She could remember being the centre of attention with all the guys wanting to be with her. She could remember kissing some of the better looking ones, and kissing one of the girlfriends when she became jealous of Fiona.

Then there the grope session in the kitchen with two real hunks, she had lost her panties somewhere in there. Of course she couldn’t have sex with guys she’d just met so they had to settle for getting blown. Well one of them did, the other she had come across later when she was looking for the toilet and seeing as she had had his cock in her mouth she felt she knew him well enough to fuck him in the great big bath tub the frat house had.

All in all it had been a great night for Mandy and Fiona was so glad it wasn’t her, because Mandy was such a total slut.

Now things were back to drab and normal, she had surrendered her costume somewhat reluctantly that morning and was now sneaking in to her home so that she could shower and get ready for work. However it was later than she thought and both Debbie and Carl were waiting for her.

“Where have you been, mum?” Carl demanded.

“And you smell of beer and cigarettes.” Debbie added.

“Oh, did I forget to call,” Fiona suddenly remembered that she had, “I’m so sorry. I ran into some old friends and had drinks at their place. I was .. too tipsy to drive home so I stayed the night. I’m really sorry I forgot to call.”

“Okay mum,” Debbie said, “You need to get cleaned up because you’re already late for work.” Then added in a mock serious tone, “But don’t do it again, young lady.”

“I won’t,” Fiona promised as she headed off to the bathroom. But Mandy might, she added silently to herself.

Meanwhile Carl had a problem. He needed a costume and there were no costume shops in town. Fortunately his mother had been feeling so guilty about staying out all night that she wasn’t mad at him for sending her to the sex shop. Grabbing the phone book he was flicking through when he realised his sister hadn’t left yet.

“What’cha looking for, little bro?” she asked, leaning over his shoulder. “Oh ho—costumes. Given in to mommy dearest after all?”

“No, I ..” What could he say? That a hot babe had shown up on the doorstep, said she knew him and would go out with him if he dressed up? Carl was close to his sister, but not so close that she wouldn’t raze him about it.

“No, I felt a bit guilty about sending mum on a wild goose chase and thought I might make it up to her by finding a place she can get a costume from.”

“That’s the difference between you and me, little bro, I don’t let her guilt me out like that anymore. No way I’m dressing up, I wouldn’t be able to show my face in school afterwards. Now get a move on if you want a lift to school.”

Fiona wasn’t too surprised to find herself drifting back towards the shop. She had gone to the mall after work on the pretence she needed to do some shopping, and really hadn’t been interested in anything on offer until she was going past the dumpsters towards the curtained off store. Inside it was everything she remembered and she soon lost herself going through rack after rack of wonderful costumes.

“Can I help .. oh, hi! Back again so soon, knew I’d get you hooked.” Taryna looked genuinely delighted to see Fiona again.

“Completely hooked,” Fiona laughed, somehow just being around so many costumes was making her feel giddy and young. “Besides its going to take me forever to chose a costume so I need as much of a head start on Halloween as I can get.”

“We’d better get started then,” Taryna replied with her own laugh, pushing Fiona towards the rear of the store. “You go through to the changing room and strip off and I’ll start bringing costumes for you to try on.”

Fiona didn’t resist and was soon in just her bra and panties waiting for Taryna.

“No, honey,” Taryna chided when she arrived with the first costume, “When I said strip I meant strip. My costumes are complete, underwear included.”

Fiona felt momentarily self-conscious, then decided that the costumes were so wonderful that she had to go for it and took off her last two items of clothing.

“Now this is the peasant girl costume,” Taryna said, handing Fiona a loose pair of coarse cotton bloomers which the woman pulled on and then carefully tied off the drawstring. It was followed by a embroidered white tunic, a cinching leather waist coat, petticoats, a long red cotton dress and a pretty head scarf.

“No shoes?” Fiona enquired as she admired herself in the mirror. Her image, while rustic was also very pretty.

“Peasants don’t wear shoes, isn’t that right?” Taryna stated quite sternly as she gave Fiona a spritz of her special perfume.

“Yes ma’am, I mean no ma’am,” Fiona found herself curtsying to the shop owner, “I don’t deserve to own shoes, shoes are only for important people like your ladyship. I’m sorry for speaking out of turn, ma’am.”

“That’s right, girl. Now down on your hands and knees girl, show proper respect.” Taryna ordered and got a pleasant thrill as the older woman did just that, bowing down to kiss the toes of her shoes.

“Okay, back on your feet and take off your clothes.”

Once again Fiona did as she was told and as the costume came off she marvelled at how realistic it was, she had almost like she was really a peasant girl there for a moment. Taryna disappeared to find another costume and Fiona eyed her naked body in the mirror critically. For her age she felt she was in pretty good condition. In fact as she stood there her body seemed to be better than normal, the sag was gone from her breasts, the little blemishes were faded and the little pockets of middle-age flab seemed to have evaporated.

She didn’t get time to think on it further as Taryna returned with the next costume.

“This is one of our prostitute costumes,” Taryna commented as she stepped in, “Always a favourite.”

The word prostitute didn’t register with Fiona, she was just so excited that she couldn’t wait to try on the next costume and almost greedily snatched at the clothes Taryna was holding out to her. “There’s no underwear.”

“Of course not, prostitutes don’t wear underwear.” Taryna said dryly.

“Right,” Fiona giggled, “I knew that.” And without another thought she pulled on the black fishnet stockings, the skintight pink hotpants and the yellow satin bustier that buttoned up the front. As she bent over to put on the fuck-me pumps she felt her breasts slip into the cups of the bustier and when she stood up straight again she was amazed to see that her tits looked much bigger. These costumes were so clever she decided as she smeared on the bright red lipstick and tousled her hair to give herself a suitably whorish look. Stunning, she cooed to herself as she admired herself in the mirror. No, slutty. Super slut. Horny, fuck-for-money slut. She couldn’t wait to get out on the street, to pick up some punters, to suck their cocks and wallets dry. She needed the money, and the fucking, so bad. She just needed to buy some more costumes.

Glancing over at Taryna, Fiona briefly wondered if the girl swung both ways, but decided it didn’t matter. She was going to go out and fuck, and make some money, then she was going to come back to the shop and seduce the sultry bitch.

“Ta-ta,” Fiona said, blowing Taryna a kiss as she wobbled out of the store and into the back streets. There was a bar nearby that would have all the clients she could handle, and then some.

Carl still couldn’t find a costume, and he needed one bad. There was no way he was going to blow a chance at a hot chick like, .. hell he still couldn’t remember her name, or where they had met. There was even that nagging doubt that she had him confused with someone else. All the more reason to get a costume.

Damn. Why did Kostumes for Kids have to close.

He was also short on funds, really short. He owed his mother and his sister and most of his friends. If only he could get it out of his mother, since it was for a costume she’d probably give him the cash but that would mean admitting he wanted to wear a costume after all and there would be questions he didn’t want to answer.

There was nothing else for it, he would have to sneak in to his mother’s room and see if she had any cash lying around. It wasn’t like she was going to notice in any great hurry, she had come home late again last night, or rather in the early hours of that morning and had left for work still half asleep. So double checking his sister wasn’t at home, Carl crept up to his mother’s bedroom and slipped in.

The first thing that struck him was the odour of stale cigarette smoke and beer, then the piles of clothes on the floor. It looked like she was pruning her wardrobe, except that his fanatically neat mother wouldn’t be so messy about it.

Spotting a ten dollar note sticking out from a drawer he remembered why he was there and making his way carefully past the mounds of clothing he pulled open the drawer. It was full of money! Stuffed with notes of all denominations. Some of it was crumbled, dirty, ripped, some was fresh out of the machine, but it was all money. There had to be hundreds, maybe thousands, of dollars in there. Carl stared at it in stunned silence, then realised that this was even better, there was no way his mother would notice a hundred bucks or so missing from that mess. Fishing out a collection of smaller notes, he put the drawer back as near to how he found it as he could and slunk out of the room with a mixture of excitement and guilt.

With a decent amount of cash like this he had more options. The chick had said he could dress up as a school boy or a headmaster. Well a school boy would involve a silly uniform with shorts and such, and would put them on equal terms. As headmaster he would be in charge. He could use his best suit, and see about getting a cape and one of those silly flat topped hats. And a cane. Yeah, he liked that idea—a cane so that he punish the naughty little school girl.

He winced as his cock hardened within the confined space of his jeans and he had to quickly reach in and adjust things to make himself more comfortable. Fondling his cock this way gave him an idea, not a particularly original one for a teenage boy but it didn’t have to be as he hurried to his room to jerk off.

Fiona woke with a throbbing headache, her mouth felt like it had been scrubbed with sandpaper and her feet were aching. Somehow it didn’t seem fair, Mandy had all the full while she had to deal with the consequences the next day. Thinking of the night before though and a happy tingle put everything in perspective. Mandy was such a slut, no Fiona corrected herself—Mandy was such a whore because she had got money last night, and the night before. Lots and lots of money, even though Mandy would have quite happily fucked all those guys for free.

Money! Fiona winced as the pain came back. She had to get up, get cleaned up and get out to work if she wanted to get paid. Mandy would just say forget it, but Fiona didn’t have that luxury. So Fiona staggered to the bathroom and ran the shower as hot as she could stand to try to wash away the aches and grime. She was going to be late for work but it was already too late to do anything about that.

She dressed in a hurry and skipped breakfast, pausing only to grab a handful of Mandy’s cash so that Mandy could do some shopping after Fiona had finished work. Stuffing the notes into her handbag Fiona reminded herself that she would have to get some money out to pay Taryna for all the wonderful costumes she had been using. She still hadn’t decided on a costume theme for Halloween either, and it was fast approaching.

The day in the office was a drag, waiting for five o’clock so that she could head off to Taryna’s shop. There was a momentary bright spot in her day when she spotted in the cafeteria one of the guys who had fucked Mandy last night. It gave Fiona a bit of a thrill both that he didn’t recognise her, and there was that pleasant squirmy feeling as she remembered how big his cock had been and how hard he had pounded it in to Mandy’s cunt.

Five o’clock finally and Fiona nearly bowled over the general manager in her haste to get out. She was at the shop less than half an hour later and Taryna regarded her customer’s hot and flustered state with amusement but didn’t comment on it.

“So what shall we try today?” Taryna asked somewhat rhetorically as Fiona was still too winded to make conversation. “Perhaps something a bit more conservative, or perhaps something a bit more racy.”

“Oh—conservative,” Fiona said as she regained her composure. “Mandy has been a bit—indiscreet—so far.”

“Fair enough,” Taryna agreed, “How about something a bit old fashioned and proper, a domestic servant like you would find in a mansion?”

That sounded intriguing to Fiona, and certainly more staid and sensible. So far she had been a slutty teenager, a prostitute and a whore, she was beginning to see a pattern developing. So this could be Mandy’s night off and it could even be a theme for her, Carl and Debbie for Halloween, old style servants. Carl could be a butler, and that she supposed would make Debbie and herself maids or something. Without needing further prompting or instructions, Fiona gave Taryna a nod of assent and went through to the changing room where she immediately began to undress.

Not that she would ever admit it, but Debbie occasionally made use of some of her mother’s wardrobe. Fiona has some quite decent scarves that she hardly ever wore, and there was a red sweater that Debbie had worn more than once. Nothing else though. Except perhaps for the grey skirt, her mother had had that so long that it had come back into fashion more than once.

Today she just needed some pantyhose, she’d laddered her best pair that morning and discovered the rest were in the wash. It wasn’t like her mother to be so far behind on the washing, so Debbie didn’t feel quite so guilty about pinching her mother’s hosiery since it was kind of her fault that Debbie had run out.

Debbie wrinkled her nose as she entered her mother’s room, their was a distinctly acrid smell of stale cigarette smoke and beer as well as something a bit like over ripe fish. The over stuffed clothes hamper seemed to be the source of it and Debbie realised that it wasn’t just her washing that wasn’t getting done.

Not her prob, Debbie told herself, although she might have to have a word to her mother, especially as she was barely ever home these days, what with spending nearly every evening with her ‘friends’. Going over to the walk-in closet, she opened the doors and turned on the light.

Odd, Debbie didn’t remember her mother having a leather coat. It was pretty modern and trendy too, something she would have borrowed if she’d known. Too warm for today though, so Debbie pushed it aside and moved down the rack. There was her mum’s really dreary pants suit, that long woollen skirt that had gone out with the ark, those cheap cotton shirts she wore on weekends, the bright pink miniskirt, the see-thru blouse, the lemon yellow crop top, the ...

Debbie froze. She had been looking so intently for the red sweater that it hadn’t even registered that she wasn’t in her own closet. No, scratch that, even she didn’t have anything as trashy as the top she was now holding. It was pale blue and made of some sort of thin rubbery material. There was no way that it could be anything but skin tight and the keyhole opening in the breast would show off too much cleavage to allow for a bra.

Shocked, and more than a little offended, Debbie began to scrabble around amongst the clothes hanging up in the closet. There were clusters of stuff she knew belonged to her mother, really dull skirts, slacks, cheap jackets, that sort of thing, then there would something that only be seen on a cheerleader or a hooker.

Distracted by the bizarre things she was finding, Debbie barely even noticed that she could no longer smell the rank odours of cigarettes and beer. Instead there was a gentle, pleasant musky smell that seemed to be coming from the clothing. Holding up a short rabbit fur jacket she revised her earlier opinion, it wasn’t that trashy. Maybe she should see what it looked like.

Debbie slipped it on and went to look at herself in the full length mirror. Yeah, she decided, it was cool rather than trashy, although something wasn’t quite right yet. She rolled up the bottom of her t-shirt so that it was out of sight under the jacket, leaving her middle bare. That was much better, except her t-shirt would slip down again. So she took off the jacket and her t-shirt before putting the jacket back on. Still not quite right with her baggy jeans though, tight jeans and boots would work much better. Or there might be something else in her mother’s closet.

Sure enough she found a leopard print miniskirt that was perfect, especially after she pinched a pair of her mother’s leather knee boots to go with it. Yeah, she liked this look and just had to head down to the mall to show it off to the guys.

Mandy giggled, she couldn’t help it. Actually she could but she liked the effect it was having on the men in the room. Well, liked the giggle and the way it made her titties ripple in their oh-so-low-cut top. Taryna had had dozens of maid costumes in her shop, one of her best sellers she said, but this one was easily the best in Mandy’s opinion—and she should know because Fiona had insisted on trying all of them on.

It was pink satin with an indecently short skirt fluffed out by layers of petticoats, a tight short sleeved off the shoulder top and of course the lacy little hat and apron. The top had to be tight, otherwise her tits would just spill out and she wasn’t wearing a bra, or panties for that matter. Even the fishnet tights were open at the crotch, a feature Mandy intended to make use of later.

But right now she had to serve the drinks and pass around the snacks. It was just so lucky that Taryna was having a party that night, otherwise Mandy didn’t have a clue what she would have done—all dressed up as a maid and with no-one to serve.

Oops—too much day dreaming, Mandy chided herself. The distinguished looking older gentleman by the Grecian urn was indicating he needed a refill for his drink. Mandy trotted over, six inch heels were a bit silly for someone who had to be on their feet all night but Mandy had no intention of being on her feet all night. On her back, on her knees and on her hands and knees but not on her feet for much longer.

“Thank you, m’dear,” the man said as he took a glass from Mandy’s tray.

Ooh, polite. Mandy liked that in a man.

“I was just having a discussion with my colleague here,” the man gestured towards a rather sour faced, slender woman that Mandy hadn’t noticed before. “And she was saying that very few woman enjoy bondage during sexual intercourse.”

“I like to be tied up,” Mandy volunteered. She had never actually really tried it but this guy was really neat looking with his streaked grey hair and his stylish suit.

“Even by women?” the man asked with just the hint of a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, sure,” Mandy smiled to cover her confusion.

“That would be most fascinating to observe, I would say.”

A light dawned on Mandy. He wanted to watch her get it on with the woman. “Well, if sir, madam would come this way,” she said in her best posh voice, “I think that could be arranged.”

‘But’, Mandy added to herself as she lead them towards a bedroom, ‘if you think you’re getting this free then you’ve got another think coming. I fully expect a decent fucking from you afterwards.’

Debbie strutted through the main concourse of the mall, there was no better word for it—her head was held high, her shoulders back to show off her figure. She was on top of the world and couldn’t wait to show off her new outfit to her friends.

Or could she? A wolf whistle changed her mind. Not a particularly cute guy, she noted as she looked in that direction, but that didn’t matter from her end. With deliberate slowness, Debbie did a full turn, letting him take her in from all sides, before she blew him off with a sharp gesture. That felt so good that Debbie got all warm and squishy between her legs and the scent of her juices turned her on even more as she returned to her original objective.

Which lasted right up until she saw another guy staring at her, and this one was cute. Moving to a bench that was in his field of view, Debbie put her foot up on the seat and bent over as though she was doing up an imaginary shoe lace. All this was purely to make her skirt ride up to her panty line and show off her spectacular legs.

To her surprise, and annoyance, the object of her flirtation glanced in her direction then hurriedly looked away again. Debbie snorted in annoyance, stamped her foot back down and remained completely oblivious to the elderly gentleman on the bench who had turned a bright red colour and was having trouble breathing.

‘Right!’ thought Debbie, ‘He’s playing hard to get.’ That just made her more determined. Before she had just intended to give him a cheap thrill before meeting with her friends, now she wasn’t going to be satisfied until she had fucked him. Subtle hadn’t worked, so adjusting her jacket on the move to show off more cleavage, Debbie strode straight towards her target, loud and brash enough that there was no way he could ignore her.

And he didn’t, although his reaction wasn’t what Debbie wanted as he hurriedly backed away and then fled.

“What’s the matter?” Debbie screamed after him, “You a fucking fag or something? You ain’t gonna get better than me. You want me to take it up the ass? Would that be more your style? Fuck!”

The silence that followed the last echoes of her screeching voice reminded Debbie that she wasn’t alone, that in fact she was in a crowded mall and surrounded by people. Very quiet people at the moment, most of them staring at her, others trying to pretend she wasn’t there. Debbie shot the nearest group a disgusted glare and was about to harangue them when the enormity of what she had done hit her.

Debbie looked from face to face, registering shock, disgust, anger, lechery. She caught sight of her reflection in a shop window and gasped in horror as she saw what the outfit she was wearing really looked like. Trash didn’t even begin to cover it. Hiding her face in her hands in a belated attempt to hide her identity, Debbie attempted to flee, only to come crashing down as her ankles twisted on the spiked heels of her shoes. That was all she could take, and she started to cry uncontrollably.

A hand came to rest on her shaking shoulder and a kindly voice spoke to her, “Perhaps you should come with me, miss.”

Debbie didn’t resist as she was helped to her feet and led away by the stranger.