The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Jen,” Zoey said, when Jen opened the door. She held onto the doorway with one hand. “Sorry to bother you, but I lost my lipstick again. I remember you had that one shade—could I borrow?”

Jen looked at Zoey for a minute. “It’s a really good shade. It’s discontinued. You better be using it for a special occasion. It’s not the kind of stuff you waste sitting around the house. And since it’s been discontinued, I’ve been rationing it only for special occasions. You’ve got a special occasion you want it for tonight?”

Zoey showed her hands. “Concert with friends.”

Jen relaxed in place, her muscles loosening, and her body taking on an ease. “You can come in, then.” She stepped back from the doorway, allowing Zoey to pass.

“It’s just in the bedroom—just down the hall.”

Zoey had only been to Jen’s once or twice—they were casual friends more than anything—but she had vague memories of the layout. And so she was already on the way to the bedroom when Jen gave the direction as she closed the door.

It was a small apartment—really not much more than a cramped living room and a hallway, but Jen kept it clean and organized. As Zoey crossed the threshold to Jen’s bedroom, which was similarly well kept, Jen caught up with her. “It’s in the vanity drawer. Here, sit down.”

Zoey sat down in front of the vanity as instructed, and reached for the drawer, but Jen beat her to it. “Now, I’ll let you wear the shade, but I won’t let you apply it. There’s a really specific way to do it, and it can’t be taught. I put it on for you, or you don’t wear it.”

Zoey didn’t argue. She really didn’t know Jen well enough to argue with her. She’d only come back so she could get the shade—and she only knew about the shade because of pure luck.

She’d been out with some mutual friends once in the afternoon before a date, and her lipstick had fallen out of her purse. She’d only realized shortly before she had to leave to make her date, but Jen, who she’d never really been alone with before then, had offered hers.

Luckily, Jen’s apartment had been on the way to Zoey’s date, so Jen had walked her part of the way there, let her wear the lipstick, and sent her on her way. Or—Zoey thought she had. She only had fuzzy memories of the date. She couldn’t even remember the guy’s face. She’d always figured she had too much to drink that night.

Jen popped the cap off the lipstick, and Zoey let out a little sigh. She loved the color, even loved to see it still in the tube. There was no other color on the market quite like it. It was the most vibrant red she’d ever seen, but it had some orange hues mixed in, or maybe some gold undertones. Gold undertones, rosey overtones… it was a color with a lot of depth, and every time she saw it, she thought she could find new layers of color. For example, today, she thought she could see a hint of purple for the first time, and maybe some indigos and blues, layered into that vibrant red.

Jen twisted the bottom of the tube twice, to send the stick up, and positioned it in front of Zoey’s lips.

“Watch the mirror and tell me if you want me to make any changes. But otherwise, this is how to apply it.”

The stick touched down on Zoey’s parted lips, and her lips were supple and pliant to the touch of it. It pressed in, indenting her bottom lip, but Jen swivelled her wrist quickly, leaving only a dot of color behind.

“You get the best color this way, the most even application, and you waste the least amount of makeup,” she said, dipping the lipstick back into Zoey’s lip, beside the first dot she’d made. It felt like heaven for the second the stick was pressed in—Zoey wanted Jen to dig it into the center of her lip and drag it through, but in the next second Jen had shifted her wrist again, and brought it away.

There were two dots, now, side by side. That area of her lip was covered perfectly, and Zoey was suddenly impatient for Jen to hurry up and apply the rest of it. She wanted her mouth to be covered in the color.

Even if Zoey was impatient, she couldn’t deny that Jen was working fast. She had made a third and fourth dot, then a fifth. Zoey’s eyes were locked onto her image in the mirror, watching the color spread with each competent swipe of Jen’s hand. It was like a sentient thing, moving of its own volition to cover Zoey’s mouth. She felt her mouth gape open into an “o” unintentionally, just at the sight of it, and she felt Jen take hold of her jaw to guide her lips back into a more closed position.

“Just keep an eye on the mirror,” Jen said, and her voice had become softer—but Zoey barely noticed. “You look so pretty when you wear my lipstick. It’s a special color I save just for you—but you know we have to hide it from your waking memory… maybe you’re not quite ready to remember yet, but you will be in a minute.”

Zoey watched the color spreading, the image becoming more abstract to her as the application went on. It seemed like it shouldn’t have stopped at her lip line—what was stopping it from covering her entirely, and becoming her new skin tone?

“You remember what makes the color so special—you can see anything you want to see in it. It’s only a drug store lipstick, but with the right story—and when I’m pulling you back into this mindset, it can be anything I tell you it is. What are you seeing in it today?”

Zoey had lost the capacity to speak. Jen had finished painting her lower lip, which was still pouting forward in surprise, and had moved to painting her upper lip in those same, careful flicks. Zoey had the very strong feeling that something was going to happen when Jen had finished applying it, but she couldn’t say what.

“It’s putting your mind to rest, when I wash the color over you,” Jen said. She increased her tempo, working more quickly still. “And you know you always want to come back and wear this color when it’s time to be a good girl again. You always know when it’s time—you always come back, and you know where to tell me you’re going—you’re always on the way to a concert with friends, when it’s time for you to wear it again.”

Jen had finished applying it, but she didn’t put the tube away. She changed her tempo, now dragging the stick very slowly over Zoey’s mouth, coating already sticky lips with unnecessary layers of makeup. It made Zoey’s lips tingle and sting, and the stick partially stuck with every drag, making Zoey’s mouth swell up to it, and follow it along in its movements. Zoey was already too far gone for words, but a vague memory of being stung on the lips once by a bee slipped quietly through her mind, there and then gone before she even really noticed.

After a few passes like this, Jen lowered the tube, and set her fingers right along Zoey’s lower lip. Zoey couldn’t keep her eyes from rolling back in her head, and she sagged forward into the touch of Jen’s hand. Jen, for her part, plied Zoey’s lips gently, rolling her lips forward and touching along the line of application lightly. Zoey felt like her lips were burning—she needed to—

Jen took her hand away, and had at some point moved a stool next to Zoey’s. She lowered herself to sit in it, and took the tube of lipstick back up, this time applying it to her own lips.

“Never forget who this color belongs to,” Jen said. “It’s mine. And when you wear it, it’s like wearing me on your skin. It paints me over the surface of all your thoughts, puts you inside the scripts and programs I’ve planned out for you. It covers everything else so well you can’t remember what’s underneath. And every time you see it on me, and realize it’s on you too, you realize how deeply inside my control you are—realize that I’ve got you wrapped up inside my will.”

The words were sinking into Zoey’s mind unnoticed, because her eyes were caught on the image of Jen patiently dragging that color onto her mouth. At last, when she was done, she snapped the cap back onto the tube, and inclined her head to Zoey’s. “Now, let’s kiss more of that control into you.”

Somehow, there was a kiss. Zoey didn’t remember it starting, only seemed to come to consciousness in the middle of it. It felt like waking from a dream into the sensation—or maybe the sensation was a dream, it felt so good. There was a kiss, and then, there was a bed; Zoey missed the bridge to that too. She was kissing Jen, and she could see her lipstick streaking and staining around her mouth. She was too eager in her kisses; she only made a solid connection one in every five times. Her desperation meant the other four she only got sides or parts of Jen’s mouth.

And sometimes Jen was there kissing her, and sometimes she was kissing into Zoey’s body with that lipstick, leaving lipstick traces on Zoey’s skin. It was a waxy sensation, and the skin under lipstick kisses felt tight and retracted; but Zoey knew this was right—Jen was leaving her trace all over Zoey’s body, sending Zoey deeper, imprinting her control inside that wax residue. When the lipstick washed away, the control would still be there, an unseen layer clinging to her skin. A layer that she could spend days or weeks inside of, running her fingers over and touching without consciously understanding why she was doing it. And when it finally washed away, Zoey would come back—and Jen could kiss it into her all over again.

There were a lot of other things, too. Pink stained and red smudged bodies surging in pleasure, and lips mixing layers of lipstick together. It trailed into a dream and then slipped out of the dream back into reality three or four times, but whether Zoey’s mind was coming in or out of focus, she never lost that warm, dreamy feeling in her mind, and she felt Jen’s force of will on her body like a second skin. She’d traced Zoey’s skin with it entirely, and Zoey felt herself being held inside it, felt it kissing into her skin even when Jen’s lips weren’t there.

Zoey lost a few more bridges—later on there was a shower, washing all the traces of wax away. But Jen’s control didn’t wash off with them, to Zoey’s joy. It didn’t swirl the drain with the rest of it. It was pressed too deep into her, for that. It stained her very being—and the more times she did this with Jen, the deeper into her it would get. Someday it would be deep enough that it wouldn’t wear off for months, or even years. And Zoey didn’t know anymore if Jen was telling her this, or if she had thought of it first herself, and asked Jen to tell her…

“Hey,” Jen said, and Zoey startled. She was sitting in front of the vanity, and Jen had just finished applying the lipstick to Zoey’s mouth. She capped the tube with a snap, and Zoey shook her head, feeling a bit woozy.

“Sorry. I must have zoned out.” She stood from the vanity. “Thanks for lending me the color, though. I swear I’ll get a new tube of lipstick so I don’t have to keep mooching off you.”

“Sure,” Jen said. “Well, have a nice day.”

“You too,” Zoey said, over her shoulder as she stepped back into the hall. She held onto the intention as tightly as she could on her way down the stairs. Stop on the way home and buy new lipstick… stop on the way home and buy new lipstick. Every time she borrowed Jen’s lipstick, she always intended to buy new lipstick… but she always seemed to forget. This time she would remember, she told herself. Buy new lipstick… buy new lipstick.

But when Zoey stepped out onto the street, the thought slipped out of her head… and somewhere, below the level of conscious thought, she knew she would not buy new lipstick. That part of her was already counting down the hours until she could wear Jen’s all over again.