The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Chapter 4

Dawn broke. The autumnal sun blasted through Macy’s curtains and smashed her square in the face. She had climbed into bed as soon as she’d arrived home, unably tired. She hadn’t even undressed.

Macy raised her arm to shield herself from the sun’s merciless rays and started with fright. She leaped from the bed and darted across to her mirror. Her eyes widened with shock as she stared at the figure before her.

It was her—same as usual. Her face puffy with sleep. Still dressed in black combat tros and heavy studded boots. Still in her t-shirt and hoodie from the previous day. Only, this Macy had long, flowing blonde hair. Thick waves of it, long, beautiful, and luscious, cascaded down her back.

Macy stared at the reflections of herself in awe. How had this happened? How had her secret desires, the acorn of a dream that she kept held deep in her heart, come to real? She’d always regretted shaving her head—hadn’t she? Always wanted to have a full head of beautiful blonde—almost platinum, in fact—hair. She ran her hands through her thick locks dreamily. Her hair was full, thick, and glossy. A triumphant grin spread across her face. A soaring feeling filled her chest. Happiness. Yes. Happiness.

Her phone buzzed, breaking her reverie. Breakfast with Carter! Of course, how could she forget? She dived towards the shower to get ready.

The morning routine took longer this morning—having such a thick head of hair meant that she had to wash and dry it with care. Macy took extra special care of her hair—after all, she’d always wanted hair like this and she was damn sure she was going to keep it looking this good.

After she had washed and dried it, styled it, and primped it, Macy pinned it up into a messy, layered bun. Perfect.

She was about to leave when it struck her. Her outfit. It didn’t really fit with her new hair. There was something about the heavy boots and black hoodie that didn’t gel with her new, feminine hairstyle. After a few moments of rummaging, Macy found some more fitting clothes. A simple white tee and a pair of skinny jeans that she hadn’t worn in years. They had lain at the bottom of her closet, neglected and lonely, until now. But, with them on, Macy felt much more comfortable.

Just before heading out, she grabbed her bottle of perfume and gave herself a quick spritz. The citrus waves rose once again, washing through her, lifting her heart. Everything was OK.

Checking her watch, she swore under her breath. She was late for breakfast!