The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Been an interesting week?” Jordan asked with a sly grin.

Mary had made some extra cash, mostly by selling her games, consoles, and figurines, getting close to a thousand dollars which of course was good news. Also, she found she enjoyed talking shop on finance with Jordan online or on the phone. The appeal of studying numbers and using your wits to guess the market was hard to explain but both Mary and Jordan talked for hours on market focus and lump sum distribution. Silly? Sure, but they both enjoyed themselves over it.

And when Jordan invited Mary to attend the critically praised production of the Magic Flute, she eagerly accepted.

This evening Jordan had gone all out, suit and tie, looking pretty dapper, Mary meanwhile, trying to find her best outfit, had worn dark jeans, and a black sweater. True there was a hole in one of the knees but c’mon who said opera was only for highbrow snobs?

Anyhow, the performance of the Magic Flute was, well magical. The orchestra was first rate, the actors could carry a tune, and this being Mary’s first time attending an opera, she was utterly enchanted, feeling more enthralled than the first time she saw Star Wars. What could she say? When the Queen of the Night hit the high notes or when Papageno and Papagena went “Pa, pa, pa” Mary was in heaven, basking in the sheer ecstasy of a masterpiece.

After the cast took a final bow and a grateful audience finished their applause, Mary leapt out onto the street buzzing and swooning over the evening. “Oh man, Mozart was a genius!”

She spun around to see that Jordan was frowning just a little. “C’mon Jordie,” she laughed “I thought the Magic Flute was your favourite piece from your favourite medium.”

Jordan though looked around at the other patrons leaving the theatre, in their sleek coats and flowing skirts before saying, “Err Mary, perhaps next time you could dress more appropriately.”

“Why?” Mary replied with a faux yawn “fashion doesn’t mean a hell of a lot to me. Do your shoes and shirt define you as a person? So, I’m not obeying an unwritten dress code. What are they gonna do? Shoot me?”

Jordan smiled warmly and reaching into his pocket, pulled out a little something on a keychain, Mary squinted to see…

Then the world…seemingly grew a little darker…and Jordan’s voice echoed within her skull.

“You take pride in your appearance. You dress femininely and professionally. You know the outfit reflects the person within, and you dress your best because you damn well want to show the world that you’re an adult, not a stunted child!”

Mary blinked…

What just happened? Did she have a fainting fit or a migraine? Maybe she should get it checked out.

Jordan though, having lightened up, offered her his arm. Perfect gentleman, Mary thought as she took it, with him leading the way to his car. Her good mood didn’t last, however as she glanced over at a legged blonde walking past with her husband. This woman wrapped in a tight red dress, showed off a decent amount of cleavage and to be sure her white fur coat was tiny, almost impractical and yet…

Mary wanted to say the woman was dressed in a mixture of being fancy enough for the opera scene and slutty enough to court attention which seemed shallow and vain, but the dress was a stunning bright shade of scarlet, plus the fur coat spoke of wealth and taste.

Almost seeing things through new eyes, a curious Mary looked around at the men, iring the fellows who were suited up, in impeccably fitted clothing and she felt a slight disdain for a guy standing around in loose jeans and a faded t-shirt.

Okay, so maybe Jordan had a point but that didn’t mean that she had to conform, wasting money on clothes. They were just clothes; did you have to judgement on someone on how they dressed?

It was when as they hurried across the road, avoiding a large puddle, that Mary caught sight of her reflection in a store window. Somehow, her hand-me-down attire, good enough for a warehouse hardly seemed appropriate for a night out. God the hole in the knee really was tacky.

“Like showing up to work in your underwear,” she muttered

Things didn’t pick up in the morning. It being Saturday, Mary enjoyed a relaxed lay in, before rising and strolling over to her draws but she paused and sighed as she found that she just couldn’t embrace her grotty t-shirts and jeans.

A few t-shirts bore the names and logos of death and nu-metal bands which with her newfound love of opera and classical music meant little to her now. And God, she was actually cheap enough to hold onto a pair of shoes held together by duct tape! Sure, it saved money but it was so goddamn tasteless!

Checking her savings via an app on her phone, Mary hemmed and hawed, knowing her budget was tight but she couldn’t help wanting to look presentable. Plus, she was always on the lookout for a better job so why not get something fancy to wear for her next interview?

Stepping inside the store, Mary breathed in the relaxing scent of jasmine and was soothed by the sound of easy jazz, as she ired the posters on display, depicting stylish models wearing their outfits with pride. One brunette embodied the smart career woman, whilst another made the perfect homecoming queen.

“Oh darling,” cooed the bob cut woman behind the counter “first time? Let’s break you in!”

What followed next was a happy succession of browsing across the racks and flipping through glossy magazines on finding the right piece, before Mary, collecting a mountain of clothes marched to the changing room, ready to see what she could make of herself, damn well wanting to show the world that she was clever, tasteful, and professional, so she had to choose her clothes with care.

Hours past with the happy Mary lovingly posing in front of the mirror, adoring her new attire, with the bob cut woman complimenting her and offering advice. Somehow that light blue dress fitted her figure so perfectly and the pink blouse merged wonderfully against her skin. Finally, as Mary made her way home, arms bulging with big bags, she found that she loved just how mature and attractive she felt.

Good fashion boosted your self-esteem, she realised that now.

As the week went by, at work or at her book club or merely walking the street, Mary noticed people looking at her in a pleased way. Not an indifferent glance like before when she wore her trampy attire, now it was a little nod of iration and respect.

The woman selling her coffee at her usual shop smiled more, the folks in her book club now sat up and listened to her and her manager who’d usually grunt not unlike a football coach instructing a moody teenager, spoke to Mary as one adult to another.

And of course, Mary loved it.