The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

George Firth was well pleased with himself, and with his darling wife Amanda. They were just home from the dinner party given by his boss and he knew they had made a good impression. Unlike Harry’s wife Margaret who had been downing the gin and tonics like they were lemonade, Amanda had been the model of decorum, accepting a single glass of wine to be polite and letting it last the entire evening.

Following his wife up the stairs towards the bedroom he could only marvel at how elegant and poised she was. She looked absolutely stunning in her evening dress, the lavender silk flowing over her curves, her hair and make up subtle and immaculate. It just said class, unlike Bill’s wife Linda. She had squeezed herself into a tight low-cut dress and her ample breasts had threatened to come spilling out all night. Good to perv at, and even now the image stiffened George’s cock, but not the sort of thing that reflected well on the husband’s tastes.

And Cheryl’s husband Norman! He had managed to get drunk, make a pass at a receptionist half his age and then gone on to regale all and sundry with embarrassing tales of his wife’s bad habits. He had totally humiliated her. But not Amanda, she had been polite, witty and charming; conversing easily with the boss, the senior manager, even the senior accountant. When it came time for the bonuses, George knew his envelope was going to be hefty, perhaps even that trip to Tahiti.

Mind you, he was going to need the bonus. He had spent a lot on improving both his wife’s wardrobe, and his wife. Still it was value for money he thought as he reached for the remote control device that he kept in the drawer beside the bed. Pointing it at his wife he pushed the single button and heard the now familiar hum. The effect on his wife was immediate, she lapsed into her trance state and proceeded to undress on the spot. The dress, her lingerie, her shoes and even her jewellery became a pile on the floor. Then like an automaton she marched in to the ensuite to remove her makeup and shower.

George smiled and casually gathered up the clothing she had dumped on the floor, tossing it in to the dirty laundry hamper to get it out of sight. It was important that nothing distracted his wife when she came back, it could confuse her. Going over to the custom made closet he unlocked the large double doors and opened them to reveal a sizeable cubicle containing several more stylish evening gowns complete with lingerie and accessories. Giving the left side a gentle push, George cycled the immense cylinder to the next cubicle.

A selection of nurses uniforms came into view, but not what he felt like just now. With images of Bill’s wife Linda and her tits, he quickly moved the wardrobe on past the lacy lingerie and the newly-wed bridal gowns to get to the desired cubicle. That done he undid his tie, threw off his jacket and shoes and waited.

Amanda re-entered the bedroom, naked with her long hair falling freely down her back. Her face was impassive, almost expressionless as she moved mechanically towards the closet, as though she had no identity of her own. There before her was a plethora of gaudy clothes, boob tubes, halter tops, hot pants, mini-skirts, all cheap and trashy—the slut collection as George liked to call it. Amanda stepped in to the cubicle and closed the door behind her.

Long minutes passed, and then the door opened again and George’s wife emerged not as Amanda the sophisticate but as Candy the slut. And slut she was in her pink button front bustier that pushed her breasts up like fleshy melons, her ultra-short frilled miniskirt, her fishnet stockings and purple glitter stilettos that made her bum wiggle as she walked. Her hair hung loose and untidy and her makeup was heavy and coarse with matching hot pink nails and lipstick.

“Gawd I’m horny!” she exclaimed licking her lips and tossing back her hair, “You’d better be up for a good fuck session, babe, or I’m out of here to find some action.”

George smiled, and unzipped his trousers to free his erection.

“Oh Gawd! Oh Gawd! It’s fuckin’ huge!” Candy gasped, and she tottered forward as fast as her heels would allow her, practically falling over beside the bed to get her mouth down to his cock. Without hesitation she engulfed his cock into her hot, warm mouth, smearing her fresh pink lipstick up and down the shaft.

The morning sun woke George and gave him a chance to lie back in his dishevelled bed and reflect upon how good his life was. Beside him Amanda was sound asleep, her heavy makeup smeared across her face, the sheets and he noted with some satisfaction, many parts of his body as well. The rest of the room was similarly askew with clothes scattered across the furniture from last night’s activities. Someone had a lot of tidying up to do, perhaps Amelia the 50’s housewife, she really got off on tidying and cleaning.

But Amelia tended to be a bit prudish, and his cock was already hard from just thinking about last night’s activities. He really felt like someone a bit more risque to start the day, so it would have to be the naughty hotel chambermaid. Peeling back the sheets he marvelled at how good his wife’s body was. That was thanks to Amanda the aerobics star, so cute in her tight lycra and sweatbands. So cute in fact that he often let her cajole him into working out with her, and feeling his firm stomach he had to admit that he was in better shape too.

A stirring from his wife prompted him from thoughts to actions and he got up and cycled the closet around to the chambermaid’s cubicle. Then returning to bed he gently shook her to fully rouse her. As she awoke and looked around in bewilderment he pushed the button on the remote and held his breath as it hummed loudly. Even after all this time he still worried that it would stop working some time. He also wished that it wasn’t so loud, the hum didn’t serve any purpose to his mind but he didn’t dare tamper with the device.

Amanda responded as she always did, walking in a trance like state in to the ensuite to wash away the remnants of her previous role so that she could be a blank slate for the next. As he listened to the shower running George had more time to wonder about the remote and the modifications to his wife. The mysterious man who had contacted him all that time ago had told him very little, not surprising considering what he was offering. The man had said that he could improve Amanda, make her more interesting, more amenable. It had been a good time to make such an approach as George and Amanda’s marriage was looming dangerously close to separation if not divorce. They had been arguing almost constantly, George spending more and more time at work trying to get ahead, and resenting Amanda spending his money. Amanda getting upset that he didn’t take her out anymore, that he begrudged her every purchase.

And then the phonecall from out of the blue, and the mysterious man who offered so much—for a price. George was still surprised that he had been so willing to listen, let alone go along with it. Even now it all seemed so fantastic that had he been in a saner mood he would have told the guy where to go. Instead he had paid the agreed amount and mere hours later he had a devoted, sensual wife who couldn’t do enough for him. From marriage break-up to bliss as quick and easy as that.

Amanda had finished in the bathroom and entered the cubicle during George’s musings. Now she broke his train of thought as she emerged dressed in a powder blue tunic that clung to her curves. Her hair pulled back in a functional ponytail but there was nothing functional about her shoes, spike-heeled pumps that accentuated her lovely stocking clad legs. Carrying an armload of folded linen she grinned saucily at him, “Good morning, I see someone had an ... interesting ... night.” She said it with complete candour, toeing the pink bustier on the floor as though it belonged to someone else. “Why don’t you freshen yourself while I tidy up. Of course I’ll be expecting a tip.” She emphasised the word ‘tip’ with a swish of her tongue over her ruby red lips.

George returned from his shower to find the bedroom back in its pristine state and his wife bent over the laundry basket scooping the contents into a linen sack. The short hem of her tunic had ridden up, presenting a clear view of her stocking tops and George couldn’t hold himself back. Moving in behind her, he leant over to fondle her breasts through the starched material, his unhindered erection pressing up against her bum. In response Amanda giggled and feigned surprise.

“Oh sir, fraternising with the hotel staff is against the rules!” So saying, she straightened so that she could press her whole body against his, wiggling her hips to stimulate George’s cock even more. He kissed the nape of her neck as he continued to squeeze her breasts. “But I think,” she murmured as she reached back to guide his cock into her moist hole, “I can make an exception in your case.”

Totally aroused now, George fucked her from behind, bent over the laundry basket, and then again on the bed with her on top, eagerly humping away on the remaining hardness left in his prick. It didn’t stop there, although incapable of getting hard again, George continued to tease and torment his horny chambermaid with tongue and fingers until both were exhausted and napped until lunch time.

Awaking for the second time that day, George found that Amanda had finished tidying the bedroom and had taken away the dirty laundry, presumably to wash it. Making sure he had the remote he dressed and headed down to the kitchen for lunch. Hearing the washing machine he prepared a substantial meal for the both of them, figuring that she had to be as hungry as he was.

“Care to have lunch with me?” he offered as Amanda entered the kitchen, her appearance restored to its previous pristine condition, heels clicking on the hard floor.

“Oh I daren’t, the manager ...”

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” George said with a conspiratorial wink.

George enjoyed watching her eat, she remained completely in her role as guilty chambermaid—constantly on edge as though she feared being caught by the imaginary manager at any moment. Still she was going to need a new persona soon, while making lunch he had noted they needed to do some grocery shopping. So he considered whether to send Amanda as the happy housewife, or to do it himself and let her change into something more exciting. He opted for the later, and after the lunch things were tidied away he zapped her again with the remote and hurried up to the bedroom to select the ‘graceful companion’ cubicle so that they could go to the movies that evening.

And tomorrow? Well that was Sunday so something with a religious theme he thought, perhaps the Sunday school teacher.

George finished off his light continental breakfast, entirely appropriate as it had been served by his own french-maid Amy. Pushing himself away from the table he gently dabbed the crumbs from his lips with the serviette and tightened his tie before heading towards the front door and another day at work. As anticipated, Amy was waiting for him in the hallway, a vision in her black satin uniform with its lacy white apron and cap and perched on her glossy black high heeled pumps.

Holding out his briefcase for him, Amy leant forward and offered her cheek for a kiss. George accepted both the briefcase and the opportunity, and then decided why the hell not and pulled up the back of her short skirt to squeeze her bum.

“Oh sir!” his wife squealed, “You are so naughty! What if her ladyship were to find out?”

George smiled. “I expect the manor to be spotless by the time I get home, Amy. And I won’t be any later than four thirty so you had better get a move on.” His maid-wife bobbed a quick curtsy to acknowledge his instructions and George set out for work a very happy man.

Amy waved goodbye, blowing him a kiss before shutting the door. She waited a moment longer until she heard his car back out of the drive and then sighed and relaxed. Slipping off the high heels that were pinching her toes she wandered casually through to the kitchen and put on the kettle to make a cup of tea. A light rap on the back door and a call of ‘it’s only me’ announced the arrival of her friend and neighbour, Helen.

Tall, slim and in stark contrast dressed casually in slacks and an old sweater, Helen wrinkled her nose in distaste when she saw her friend dressed in the sexy maid’s outfit. “Oh ‘manda, don’t tell me you’re still playing at this. Don’t you find it totally demeaning? I mean pandering to his silly male fantasies, pretending to be his slave.”

Amanda regarded Helen with a relaxed smile. “Have you ever considered that he’s my slave? That I’m controlling him through his weaknesses?”

“Get real, girl!” Helen retorted, “He’s got you jumping through hoops just to cover his own inadequacies. I don’t see you making him dress up like a tart. What makes you think you’re running the show?”

“When’s the last time you made love with your husband?”

“Saturday, after the football.” Helen shot back far too quickly.

“No, I don’t mean the last time Hank stuck his cock in you. When was the last time you made love?” Amanda let her friend stew on that for a while as she made the tea. “George took me to the theatre last week, he thought he was showing me off in a slinky evening gown.”

“Yeah, well. Hank isn’t really in to the theatre ...”

“George wasn’t either.” Amanda replied with a canary eating smile, she could tell by the way Helen was avoiding eye contact that she was making her point. “George doesn’t have mysterious conferences, he isn’t screwing his secretary and he doesn’t spend all day on the sofa watching television.”

Helen was flushed now, and more than a little angry but not at Amanda. No, she was angry with herself, and with her own husband, and her drab, repetitive life. She grunted a thanks as Amanda handed her a cup of tea and sipped on it in a stony silence as Amanda moved gracefully around the kitchen tidying away the breakfast dishes.

After a while Helen asked a question in a quiet voice, “George took you clubbing a few nights ago, didn’t he?”

Amanda didn’t pause in loading up the dishwasher but a smile lit up her face. “Yes. We danced into the small hours. He had me dress up like a teenage girl out with her sugar daddy. You should have seen the stares with me in that spandex minidress and pigtails.”

“He seems to have a lot of outfits for you,” Helen remarked as casually as she could manage, but her curiosity was now clearly piqued.

“More than you could possibly believe,” Amanda laughed, thinking of the huge revolving closet that occupied what had been the spare bedroom. “And he has such an amazing imagination! Not just the tarty stuff you see hookers in and flimsy lingerie, we’ve got all sorts of costumes and such. Most of its really stylish clothing, he has surprisingly good taste for a man.”

There were several long minutes of silence and Amanda filled in the time wiping down the bench and starting preparations for dinner. Helen brooded quietly over her cup of tea, too distracted by her own thoughts to notice the strange aftertaste. Watching her friend move around in her sleek uniform she could only think how fit and attractive Amanda looked.

“’Manda?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think, I mean could I try it, the dress up and things ... just for a little while ...”

“We’d have to co-ordinate it with Hank somehow, arrange for him to be conditioned so that he thinks its his doing.”

“I wasn’t thinking of Hank,” Helen said in a very quiet voice, “I was, well Hank is a slob, nothing’s going to change that. But with George, well I mean he’s got to have a fantasy about two women ... if you don’t mind that is ...?”

“Of course not, we’ve been friends forever,” Amanda stopped in her chores for the first time since Helen had arrived, and gave her friend a hug. “If you’re sure, though? Its a big decision, even if it is just for a couple of days.”

“I’m sure. I ... it would be like a holiday, a dirty weekend. I haven’t had either since I married Hank. I’ll tell him I’m going to spend some time with my sister, that will guarantee he doesn’t try to get in touch with me.”

“Well, if you’re sure?” Amanda prompted her friend one last time, then continued, “Use the phone in the study to ring Hank. I’ll use the other line to make the arrangements, they can probably fit you in today as its a mobile operation.”

“Arrange what?” Helen asked with a certain amount of trepidation.

“Oh its nothing to worry about. We just have to make it look right otherwise George will get suspicious. They make a slight mark on your neck to look like you’ve had the ‘control chip’ inserted and they’ll make up another remote for George to ‘use’ on you. Its all painless and a bit of a lark. Its really just an excuse for a makeover.”

Amanda’s confidence seemed to carry to Helen and she hurried away to ring her own house, confident that her husband would be sprawled out in front of the television. It didn’t take much to convince Hank that she was going away for one of her all too frequent trips to her sister’s place and his lack of interest just heightened her desire to go through with the experiment.

An hour later and a white van arrived and parked itself in the garage at Amanda’s direction. Helen was less confident now that it was going ahead but she wasn’t willing to back down and go home at this stage. She calmed down considerably when she saw the back of the van was set out like a compact beauticians complete with a reclining chair. At Amanda’s bidding she stripped down to her beige briefs and slip and made herself comfortable on the chair.

A pretty young blond assistant went straight to work on cleansing her skin, and it wasn’t until Helen felt a sharp prick in the back of her neck that she realised something was wrong. By then it was far too late and she felt her will slipping away, submerged within a desire to submit, to mould her personality to the clothes she was wearing, to obey both her master and mistress ...

George arrived home to be greeted at the front door by his amorous maid. He let her take his briefcase which she quickly put to one side so that she could press her body up against his while loosening his tie. George put his arms around her slender waist and pulled her even closer, delighting in the silky feel of her uniform and the pressure of her petticoats against his crotch.

“Master?” maid-Amy put in between kisses, “I have something I have to tell you, a favour to ask.”

Curious, George eased back just enough that she could talk more easily. “Well?”

“It is my sister Helena, she has come to visit.” And from around the corner Helen emerged, dressed in her own sexy maid’s uniform, pink to contrast with Amy’s black. Walking forward in the delicate little steps dictated by her stiletto’s, Helen kept her head respectfully lowered and presented another remote control to George. Stunned, he took it and Amy immediately gave him a passionate kiss.

“Oh master! Thank you so much for letting Helena be your slave too!”

Helena was just as enthusiastic, joining in the embrace in the doorway and lifting her head to make it a three way kiss competing for George’s mouth. She felt so happy that she was accepted by both her new owners and couldn’t wait to see what they would have her wear and what they would do with her.