The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Uniforms Control Your Mind

by Mr. Scade

Happy Endings are a Lie

For once, there was a happy ending. Well, all things considered.

I could tell the story, but what is the point? History is past, and legend will replace events gone. What I can say is simple: the curse was broken. Broken it was, and everyone was the better for it. Even if… the taint remained.

Yes, I make little sense. I mean, how could a taint—a TAINT, for the love of God!—remain in such a smiling face? Oh, that is such an innocent concept. If you only knew that the smile was the taint. The smile that paints her young, innocent face.

Just know that before all of this, before that red ribbon came into our lives, tainting everything the colour of blood, even our emotions, things were different. She was older, you see, as was I. Whatever being created the curse, it must’ve been laughing when it hit us.

First we became young. A blessing, at first, and a curse later; for with the lessening of the aches came the mood swings, the blackouts, the loss of memory and the personalities that weren’t ours. She… she is ashamed of what she became. As am I. She had been a nurse, and then a thief. I had been a construction worker and then I… I cannot speak of it and feel like a man after telling it.

A thief isn’t so bad, all things considered. But she was a thief of things not spoken in the Bible. She was a thief of things best left in brothels. She was a thief of minds, too. She stole minds—memories, personalities, thoughts. And the more she did, the redder her life became. Red. What a cursed colour. Her clothes, her eyes, her hair. And the redder she became, the redder I turned. I will not say how, but I changed, too. Bloody curse. Glad you’re gone.

Things became more extreme as the years went by. I was no longer a man. I was no longer able to think like a man. I was… different. Something in between, and clad in red. Always red. Always… doing what I did. What I was made to do… no, that’s wrong. At the time I wanted it, needed it, because it was who I had become. A new personality, a Red Personality.

My wife… she was a young… slut… The word hurts, but it was true. She was a slut, and I was… that. I think they call them shemales. But things never stayed the same for long, not with the Red Curse upon us. Not with it tainting everything.

Once she told me she couldn’t wear anything but leotards. That same day I realised I couldn’t touch her in the way I wanted to. It was but one of the things that cemented the taint. She was addicted to the leotards, I became addicted to the dresses. That was mild compared to what happened the very next day. It was.... no, I cannot speak of it. I cannot!

I will not speak of what we had to do to break the curse. But we did. The taint remained, of course…

On me? I will not let you see it. I wear red, too. I cannot go without red. And I cannot go a day without having to… do things. Unmanly things. The worse part, is that I enjoy it. I hate it, but I love it so much. That’s my shame.

And my wife? She looks so young, and won’t wear anything but what she is wearing right now; a red swimsuit and white socks. She cannot put anything else without screaming in pain. Otherwise, she is always smiling. Always happy. She cannot feel anything but happiness… sickening delight, she calls it. It makes her queasy sometimes. It’s disturbing. And the worse part, is that it is infectious. Oh, our neighbours used to be such normal fellows, but I now see their permanent smiles and red clothes and fear for them. Fear for what they might become.

But, most of all, I fear what could happen if it spreads, just like it spread to us?