The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The sleek red Corvette convertible pulled slowly into the parking lot and continued around to the back of the building. It glided into the familiar parking space marked ‘Reserved’ and stopped.

Life was good for 43 year old, John Fabian. It had been six months since he had inherited the upscale beauty salon from his Aunt Betty. “Betty’s House of Hair” was now called “The Salon Hairem.”

As John was putting the top up on the shiny sports car, he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. So far, his plan to get rid of every one of Aunt Betty’s hairdressers was coming along nicely. His uncanny knack for making money hadn’t always been legitimate and the addition of Aunt Betty’s salon to his other lucrative holdings would be no different.

John had a gift. He was blessed with piercing blue eyes and a very powerful mind. Early in his life, he began to realize that on occasion, he could know what someone was going to say even before they opened their mouth. He had gradually developed this skill and over time and it had eventually evolved into his ability to master the art of visually induced hypnosis.

As long as he could make his victim stare into his eyes, he could actually enter their minds and lock up their free thought process. Once this was accomplished, he would install a trigger phrase, which jammed the receptors in their brain.

Coincidentally, these are the very same receptors that stimulate behavioral traits, as well as stifle their free thought process. Not only could John modify their behavior, but also control their ability to make their own decisions, even though they inwardly wanted to refuse. John enjoyed the fact that his victims had an internal conflict going on. They would feel shame and embarrassment, but were powerless to resist his suggestions. As he gradually replaced his staff of cranky old women with young attractive girls, he would slowly gain complete control of them.

Barbara Conner, the first of the new girls to be hired, had set the ball in motion. He had enjoyed watching the older ladies becoming more and more intimidated, as he slowly transformed Barbara into Barbi. So far, he had lightened her hair to a golden blonde, enhanced her breasts and changed her makeup and wardrobe to reflect more of a sexy look. John intended to eventually exploit his fetish for bimbos and sluts on all the girls he hired, regardless of their own personal tastes. It was the sexually selfish part of a plan that would hopefully, make John a very wealthy man. His plan was to create what amounted to a Brothel within his hair salon. Male clients could request a private suite for their hair care. This would include a variety of normal hair procedures that men are self conscious about, like getting their hair colored or permed. John figured that for another hundred bucks they would be more than happy to get their pipes cleaned too.

So far, this morning had been a busy one. Back at his office downtown, he had interviewed a classy girl named Suzanne Pennington, for a position as his new personal assistant. She had fascinated John, right from the beginning, with her conservative dress and overconfident personality. Her criticism of Jennifer Perez, his receptionist, for her ‘unprofessional appearance’, made John snicker to himself. After all, it was he who required Jennifer to wear her bottle blonde hair parted down the middle with two ponytails sticking out from each side of her head. They were of course, tied with big pink bows. This was his hairstyle of choice for the entire week before she went for her monthly retouch.

Not only did the hairstyle seem to personify the brainless appearance of a true bimbo, but also it served to accentuate the 1-inch wide strip of black roots running down the center of her head. Her Hispanic background was obvious in her delicate features and dark brown eyes, made to appear all the darker with heavy eye makeup and dark penciled brows. John knew Jennifer hated this little girl look and was self-conscious about her re-growth, and he delighted in watching her squirm anytime a young, good-looking guy walked into the office.

His time with Suzanne had been brief, but he was able to determine that she was married and had become complacent with her 11-year marriage to a well-established and in her own words, ‘boring Architect’. She exuded self-confidence and John found himself looking forward to this new challenge.

He quickly dismissed his thoughts, for after all, his morning had just begun and he had two more girls to interview. Their names were Sheila Fillio and Mitsuko Lee.

John had watched them come and go several times from a salon up the street. He found himself fantasizing about enjoying their presence on his staff. Sheila was a tall, leggy Italian girl with long dark brown hair. Mitsuko was Oriental, a small girl with straight black hair, cut in a Bob. Both girls appeared to be in their early 20’s. He had invited them in for an interview under the promise of more money.

It was twenty minutes before nine when he walked past the reception area and noticed them already seated, waiting for their nine o’clock appointments. He quickly bid them a good morning and proceeded to his office.

A few moments later, John opened his office door and called Barbi in.

After 10 minutes, Barbi came out and walked over to Sheila. After whispering something into her ear, Sheila got up and walked over to John’s office door. She knocked and was immediately invited in.

30 minutes later; Sheila came out and walked straight over to Barbi’s chair. Barbi nodded for Sheila to sit down, which she did without hesitation.

Mitsuko thought it strange that all this had occurred without either girl saying a word to each other. She found herself wondering what had happened behind that office door. She continued to watch intently, as Barbi gently forced Sheila’s head down, so her chin was pressed tightly against her chest.

The rest of the girls watched in disbelief as Barbi gathered the long dark hair into a ponytail and then unceremoniously, proceeded to hack through it with a pair of scissors, leaving the ragged hair cut just above Sheila’s shoulders. Mitsuko had noticed Barbi mixing something, but didn’t think anything of it until she saw her pull on a pair of rubber gloves and begin to section Sheila’s hair.

As Barbi began dabbing the light blue mixture onto Sheila’s hair, it dawned on Mitsuko that it appeared as if Barbi was going to bleach it. She started to get up and walk over to the chair, when John’s office door opened and he called her to come inside. Mitsuko stopped and stared at the scene, taking place at Barbi’s station. A tear was running down Sheila’s cheek. Barbi noticed it at the same time and silently blotted the tear, handing the tissue to Sheila.

As Mitsuko turned and entered John’s office, she found him on his hands and knees, crawling around on the floor behind his desk.

“I thought I’d lost a contact lens.” John said, innocently. “But I can’t seem to find it. Would you look into my eye and see if it still may be in there?”

“Of course.” Mitsuko replied, somewhat taken back by John’s apparent vulnerability

As she gazed into his eye, she was suddenly overcome by a strange sensation. As John locked his eyes onto hers, she found it impossible to look away. In fact she wasn’t even able to blink. John had perfected his stare, drawing his victim deeper and deeper into his eyes. Mitsuko’s head began to swim. Then, she began to feel very calm and content.

She was suddenly startled by John’s now familiar voice, as she heard him say, “That will be all, Mitsi. You start tomorrow morning and welcome to the team.”

“Thank you, Master.” She said without thinking. Somehow it seemed like the natural thing to say. She felt confused, as she opened the door and silently exited the office, closing the door behind her.

As she walked from the office, she noticed a salty almost bleach-like taste in her mouth and a sticky sensation on her tongue and throat. She needed a drink of water. Walking to the water fountain, she glanced over at Sheila. She sat motionless and was now was having her wet, bright yellow hair untangled with brisk strokes from Barbi’s wide-tooth comb. Glancing at the clock, Mitsi wondered how long she had been in there. It was 11:15. Sheila’s hair must have been processing for almost two hours. Mitsi noticed some other changes too. Sheila’s heavy Italian eyebrows were now pencil thin arches. A heavy coat of silver eye shadow accented the severely plucked brows. Long false eyelashes fluttered with every blink. Her lipstick was bright red, thick and shiny.

It was only when Barbi began to finish cutting Sheila’s still wet hair, that Mitsi realized that Barbi had no intention of using a toner to soften Sheila’s brassy blonde color. Sheila looked like a whore with cheap Drugstore, peroxided hair. She continued to watch as Sheila’s hair was cut into a chin length, asymmetric tapered bob, short on one side, with a buzzed nape.

At some point, Barbi looked up and noticed Mitsi staring at the event that was taking place with her friend. As a result, Barbi quickly dismissed her, telling her she would see her bright and early the next morning.

Without thinking, Mitsi turned and walked out of the salon. She was confused. Why hadn’t she spoken up? In her heart, she knew something was wrong, but she seemed bound to accept what they were doing to her friend without question.

Meanwhile, Barbi was obediently working away on the hapless Sheila, humming quietly to herself as she applied some black dye to the buzzed hair of her now golden nape. The look was obviously intended to be a stark contrast, calling even more attention to Sheila’s newly bleached blonde hair.

In a matter of hours, her once healthy, virgin brown hair was now a lifeless, over processed, mass of highly teased whore’s hair. After it was heavily lacquered, all the girls watched, as she obediently walked over and knocked on John’s door.

The familiar voice on the other side instructed her to enter.

John was seated at his desk as Sheila walked in. Viewing his new prize, he felt his freshly drained fifth member begin to rise again. To his delight, she looked like a total slut.

Sheila instinctively lowered her eyes as she approached John’s desk. In addition to instilling the desire to obey him without question, he wanted all his girls to continue to feel ashamed and embarrassed by the way they looked and acted.

“Sheila, soon you will start to see your natural hair color beginning to grow in.” John began. “Your roots, of course, will be dark against your new dyed blonde hair. This will make you feel and look like a cheap street whore. You will feel you’re sexiest whenever I allow you to go for extended periods of time without retouching your roots. You will hate this look, but you will love the feeling of being naughty. Do you understand?”

Sheila nodded without thinking.

“Now, I want you to remove your clothes.”

Sheila looked a little confused as she obediently began unbuttoning her blouse. Her mind was racing. She wanted to stop and tell this man to go to hell, but she couldn’t imagine herself saying those words to John. She finished removing her blouse and bra, exposing her breasts for John to enjoy.

“Cup your hands under your tits, Sheila. Present them to me. Tell me they are mine to do with as I please.”

Sheila looked uncomfortable as she swallowed and cleared her throat. She lifted her breasts with her hands and stared toward John’s feet, avoiding eye contact.

“Go on, Sheila. Don’t be shy, tell your Master what he wants to hear.”

In a quiet, shy voice, Sheila slowly spoke. “These are my breasts, Master.”

She hesitated and started again, clearing her throat, “These are my breasts, Master. I am presenting them to you, for your pleasure. To do with as you please.”

A look of satisfaction crossed Sheila’s face. As if she had completed a difficult task.

John immediately corrected her. “Tits, Sheila. Say it again, and this time, use the word, ‘tits’.”

Sheila began to look obviously embarrassed. “These are my tits, Master. I am presenting them to you, to do with as you please.”

“Very good, Sheila. Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Embarrassed, Sheila barely shook her head.

“WAS IT, Sheila?”

“No, Master.”

With a smug look on his face, he instructed her to continue.

She obediently unbuttoned her skirt and with one motion, gripped her skirt and panties, sliding them down her long legs to the floor. Putting one hand on the desk for balance, she reluctantly stepped out of them. Her thick dark bush contrasted starkly with her brassy blonde hair.

John got up a walked around her. She shuddered as he gently rubbed his finger up and down the short, dyed black hair on her nape. She could feel him studying her hair.

He was always amazed at how efficiently the chemicals removed the color from even the darkest hair. And dyed black hair had a special allure. A true blue/black not found in nature.

“I love your hair and makeup.” He said calmly. “You should look this way all the time.”

Sheila’s face flushed. She heard herself say, “Thank you, Master. If it pleases you.”

Inside, she was dreading the thought of being seen this way.

John reached out and began to fondle Sheila’s nipples, pinching them lightly as he watched them draw up and become erect.

“I’ve decided to treat you to some implants.” John said, flatly. “But first, I want you to get these nipples pierced. Nice thick rings, I think. The kind with the little gold balls.”

Sheila’s heart sank, as she was again torn between wanting to refuse and having to, for some reason, obey.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door.

“Come in.” John said, without asking who was there.

Sheila, still standing naked, felt panic as the door opened.

In walked Barbi carrying a pair of black electric clippers. Without saying a word, she handed them to John, glanced down at Sheila’s bush and left the room.

Immediately realizing what was about to happen to her, she cried out, “Please, don’t. I have a Gynecologist appointment next week.”

“Well then,” said John, with a sneer. “I guess we’re going to make sure you look real pretty for your exam.”

John plugged the clippers in and calmly slid the switch on, causing the familiar, “BRRRAK Hmmmmm”, as the clippers came to life.

“Stand still.” He stated coldly, as he approached her exposed bush.

Sheila stood motionless, gazing down with surrealistic fascination, as John deftly sculpted her thick bush.

Beginning just above her womanhood, he carefully removed the hair, leaving a three-inch strip about an inch wide with nice square corners.

Admiring his work he said, “I want you to stop by the Drugstore when you leave here today and buy a home hair bleaching kit. When you get home, I want you to bleach your pussy hair for an hour. Then, I want you to run a nice hot bath and shave yourself where I have trimmed you. Now, get dressed, I’m letting you off today to get your nipples pierced and your pussy bleached. Then I want to see you first thing in the morning. Oh, and before I forget, ditch the panties and bra.”

Sheila began to plead. “Master, can’t I please wait until after my appointment to bleach my pubic hair? I’ve been going to this doctor since I was a little girl. I will be so embarrassed.”

“Pussy hair, Sheila.” John said sternly. “Ask me again, and this time use the words, ‘pussy hair’.”

In frustration, Sheila repeated, “Pussy hair, okay. Master, please can I wait until after my appointment to bleach my pussy hair?”

John smiled. “That’s much better.” Quickly adding, “No, I don’t think so, I want you to look nice for the Doctor. Now run along. I’ll see you in the morning.”

As Sheila got dressed and left the office, John smiled to himself. This was going to be fun. His new dyed blonde toy was going to have to face her Doctor next week and try to make up some reason why she had decided to become a blonde...an all over blonde!

He decided he would keep her makeup heavy and her dresses nice and short. He found himself fantasizing about the following morning. When Sheila returned to his office wearing no panties, he just had to lift her skirt to examine her newly groomed and blonded pussy hair. He wished he could see her shopping for the bleach kit. He grinned at the thought of poor Sheila going through the checkout line holding a blonding kit with her hair already so obviously bleached.

Tomorrow, he would use the trigger phrase to put her into a deeply receptive state. Then he would hopefully, finish the first of many masterpieces. He would seal her fate and devotion to him by amplifying her orgasms to a degree that she had never known. His plan was to center her ecstasy around her new image.

Looking like a complete slut would arouse her almost to orgasm. The act of applying her makeup or having her hair dyed will cause her to almost convulse with pleasure. He would make sure her dark roots would be another source of fascination. He loved the smell of hair that was freshly dyed and he would make sure she used this to stimulate him. Her taste in clothes and shoes will be transformed to go with her new image. Low cut halter-tops that tie under her breasts and ultra short leather miniskirts will become her trademark. Her heels will become higher and higher over time until she is comfortable in platform shoes with six-inch heels. He will have her nose bobbed and Collagen injections will fill her lips, creating a perfect orifice for relieving the pressure in his balls.

He would eventually have plans for all the girls, but he had decided to take his time and make the most of each transformation. He would continue to use Barbi to orchestrate their makeovers. He would exploit each one and humiliate them individually, reinforcing his total control over every aspect of their behavior. He couldn’t wait until tomorrow morning. Sheila was all he could think about.

Barbi knocked on the door to inform him that a couple of the older ladies had just quit. It seemed they didn’t like what was going on.

John smiled. “Pay the rest of them to the end of the month. Let’s clean house!”