The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Two very different women stepped out of BimboTech Incorporated into the bright mid-day sunlight. Different from each other; different from the girls they had been just days before. It was impossible to look at either without thinking of sex, but very different sex indeed. To the left and a step behind, Marissa jiggled and giggled in tight white lycra, a brilliant, vacuous smile for anyone they passed proclaiming she was the easiest lay on the planet. Clacking before her confidently was Catherine, her massive rack swaying before her, her eyes bright, horny, predatory. She wasn’t easy; she was hungry. Insatiable. And everyone she held in that smoldering, challenging glare knew they were on the menu.

Catherine led Marissa along as if on an invisible leash. The thought amused Mistress Cat and she considered getting a real leash, but decided against it. Marissa was her slut—body and soul. A prop would be superfluous.

“Damn, you girls are hot!”

Catherine turned slowly, arching an eyebrow. Marissa was sticking her chest out and smiling at three bikers.

“Yes, we are, aren’t we. Careful you don’t get burned.”

Catherine grinned to let them know it was all in fun and the bikers laughed. She glanced about. There was an alley near by and a pay phone across the street. They were far enough away from BimboTech Inc. This would do. She drew a long, maroon fingernail under her puffy lower lip and gave a little chuckle.

“So you boys like bimbo poon?” she asked. “Because Marissa here is on special: thirty bucks a hole; three holes, no waiting! If you roll one of your hogs into that alley, you can bend her over it. Do we have a deal?

The bikers looked at each other with boyish grins then agreed. Marissa cheered and clapped, bouncing her titties as she made little hops of joy. They pushed a Harley into the alley then pulled out there wallets at Catherine’s insistence of cash up front. She tucked $90 into her cavernous cleavage, then held out a restraining hand before they descend on Marissa.

“Just one more thing, boys. There’s a twenty five cent fluffer fee.”

The bikers looked confused and somewhat suspicious.

“What’s a fluffer fee?” asked the one in the middle.

“Give me a quarter and your prick and I’ll show you,” said Catherine. “I promise you’ll like it.”

The nasty, lust-filled look in Catherine’s eye cut off any debate. He pulled out a quarter and handed it to her. Then he undid his belt. Catherine squatted before him and helped him finish freeing his cock, then licked it from balls to tip. She looked up at the other two men on either side.

“Come on now, boys. Quarters and cocks! I’ll do all three of you at once. I’m a cunt with things to do!”

The men fumbled as they tried to pull out payment and pricks at the same time. Soon enough their quarters were between Catherine’s monstrous tits, though, and she was busily drawing the first cock between her puffy lips as the other two dicks went hard in her hands.

“O.K. boys,” she said once the bikers were rock hard and groaning. “You’re ready. Do Miss Catherine a favor and fuck that bimbo whore in every hole.”

She propelled the three towards Marissa, who sat impatiently waiting on the motorcycle playing with her right nipple and squirming in anticipation.

“Oh yeah!” she cried as three sets of hands began to fondle her. “Do me! Do me! Do me!”

Soon the white lycra dress was reduced to a thick and rumpled belt around her waist and the bikers were doing their best to fill her every hole. Marissa squealed and squirmed and sucked and fucked.

Catherine admired the scene for a moment, then she left them there in the alley while groping for the quarters that she had dropped between her tits. She clacked her way across the street. Her tits could literally stop traffic. At the pay phone, she dialed a number she knew well.

“Hello?” came a familiar voice.

“Brooke?” Catherine responded. “Oh, thank God you’re there!”

“Catherine? Oh my gosh, Catherine! Where are you? We’ve been so worried! Is Marissa with you? Are you all right? Where are you?”

“Calm down, Brooke. Calm down! I’m all right. Marissa is with me and she’s not in any danger. She does need our help though.”

“Oh my gosh, is she hurt?”

“Look, I can’t explain it over the phone. Just get all the Zetas to meet us at the house in two hours. And don’t tell anyone else! If word got out Marissa would just be devastated! This has to stay a ZTA secret! Promise me, Brooke!”

“Gosh, Catherine, of course I promise. I swear to God! I’ll call everybody right now!”

“Great Brooke. I knew I could count on you. See you in two hours.”

“Two hours. Got it. You’re sure you’re safe?”

“Perfectly. Gotta go now,” Catherine said.

“O.K. B-bye,” said Brooke and hung up.

Catherine grinned

“Stupid bimbo,” she muttered.

Then she put in a second quarter and called BimboTech.

One week later....

Mistress Catherine sat enthroned in all her glory in the middle of the big common room of the ZTA house, surrounded by the bimbos that loved and feared her. It had been a busy week bringing all the Zetas in line, showing them who was boss, then rounding up the random bimbos wandering campus and brining them into the fold. It was a lot of hard work—at one point she had even broken one of her strap-ons—but Catherine had loved every minute of it.

She looked over at Fifi, a Southeast Asian bimbo she had dressed in a French maid’s outfit. She gestured at her with her empty glass and the girl scurried over to bring her a fresh gin and tonic and retrieve her empty glass. As she did so, she gave a bowing curtsy that nicely displayed her cleavage to her mistress. The girl had nice tits, thought Cat. But not nearly so nice as the mistress of the house. She took a deep breath, swelling out her tremendous rack until it threatened to burst out of the dark red-velvet and black leather corseted bustier. God she loved her tits.

They did get in the way sometimes though. For instance, she wasn’t sure which of her many bimbos was doing such a lovely job licking her out. Her gargantuan gazongas occluded the view of any thing but a pink bubble-butt wagging just past the horizon of her titties.

Mistress Cat looked over to one of the many mirrors she had ordered installed in the house to get a better view of her current worshiper. The nicely rounded ass had a pink heart tattoo on the left cheek that said Zeta Slut in red letters. That identified the bimbo as one of her sorority sisters, but didn’t narrow it down any further since Cat had had them all tattooed like that.

The bimbo’s pussy lips were red and swollen, looking like Cat had worked her over recently with a strap on, but that could be true of half a dozen bimbos. Some day, Cat hoped to be able to identify all of her bimbos by ass and pussy alone, but for now she would have to get a look at the girl’s face.

Mistress Cat took a long drag on her long black cigarette holder. She had been forced to use a holder since smoking without one meant getting ash down her cleavage. This one was a good eighteen inches long and black, with a long Virginia Slim on the end of it. Once she had a load of red-hot ash on the tip, she reached out and tapped it on the toe of her long black high-heeled boot as it rested on the small of the bimbo’s back. The hot ash dropped into the dimple that crowned the bimbo’s crack and she squealed as her head shot up, knocking into Mistress Cat’s overhanging knockers.

The bimbo managed to look behind her, trying to figure out what had happened and failing miserably. She was wearing a baby-blue tube top that her hard nipples were trying to drill through. She was naked from navel to ankles. These stupid bimbos were always loosing their skirts and hot pants, taking them off in an urgent need to fuck and then forgetting where they left them if they even remembered they had been wearing anything to begin with. They needed more discipline, thought Cat, and she smiled wickedly at the prospect.

Mistress Cat saw now that the bimbo with the burned bottom was Brooke, the second of her Zeta sisters to embrace her inner bimbo with the help of BTI. Cat had perhaps overdone the oral fixation she had given Brooke. Even as she fretted over her ass, she pulled a lock of her long, wavy blonde hair into her mouth and sucked on it and her lower lip as well. A little over done on the I.Q. reduction to—she almost made Marissa seem smart—but she lapped pussy like a dream. That quality more than made up for any other shortcomings in Cat’s opinion and in this house, Cat’s opinion was the only one that mattered.

“Brooke, be a good little bimbo and tell everyone to come here. I want to tell them a few things.”

“Yes, Mistress Cat!” exclaimed Brooke, immediately ceasing to rub her ass to run giggling about the house calling out to all her sisters in bimbohood that their Mistress required their attendance.

“Eveyboby! Eveyboby!” she called, her tounge getting tangled in the lock of hair in her mouth. “Mistress Cat says to cum! <giggle> I mean we’re suposta go see Mistress Cat! Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!”

Brooke couldn’t decide whether to go up the stairs or in the other rooms on the main floor first and as a result, ran smack into the bit of wall between the door and the stairway and fell on her well-padded bum. She giggled, unfazed by her mistake, and scampered on up the stairs calling the alarm.

Mistress Cat shook her head. A bimbo could be trained but she would always be a bimbo. She nodded again to Fifi in her little maid’s costume. While the bimbos assembled, Cat could play one of her favorite discipline games.

“Lift your skirt, Fifi,” she commanded and the girl complied, raising the frilly skirt to expose her shaved and swollen cunt with the hand that did not hold the drinks tray.

“Now keep you mouth shut and hold the tray steady. Don’t spill anything, understand?”

Fifi opened her mouth to answer but a devastatingly raised eyebrow from Catherine slammed it shut again. Fifi nodded her understanding. Mistress Cat grinned and began to finger the Asian bimbo to orgasm.

Fifi shuddered and the glasses on her tray clinked together but she held the tray level and nothing dropped. she whimpered through tight clenched lips as slowly the room filled with every imaginable sort of bimbo. Their skin tones were a spectrum from porcelain white to ebony black. They were everything from crack-whore trashy to plastic barbie doll perfection. Their titties went from big to oh-my-fucking-god! They bounced, giggled, and jiggled into the room, then knelt before their mistress. When they were all assembled, Mistress Cat pulled her hand out of Fifi’s sopping cunt, slapped her ass and indicated she should join the others.

“oh, and Fifi?” she said.

The bimbo looked expectantly.

“You can open your mouth now.”

“Thank you, Mistress Cat,” said Fifi with a curtsy, then knelt beside Mony, a redheaded bimbo dressed in a perverted version of a Catholic school girl uniform. Mony’s cuntlips were peeking out from beneath the shortened plaid kilt, the white shirt unbuttoned and tied beneath her massive freckled jugs, a little gold cross hanging between them.

Mistress Cat licked Fifi’s quim from her fingers as she surveyed the room, a general reviewing her kneeling bimbo army. They were ready. She had trained them well.

“You’ll all have need of your mouths tonight. And your cunts, and your titties, and your tight little assholes. Tonight you will be fucked as you have never been fucked before!”

The bimbos smiled broadly and began to clap and cheer. Mistress Cat let them continue for a few seconds, then raised a commanding hand to silence them before the stupider ones forgot what they were applauding.

“Tonight, Zeta House becomes Mistress Cat’s House of Pussy, home of the most fuckable bimbos in the world!”

Brooke looked like she had a question.

“That would be you,” Cat answered and Brooke grinned and giggled.

“Now, I want out first night to be extra special, so I want all of you to be extra horny. Soooo, for the next five hours, until our customers arrive, nobody can touch their pussy, their titties, or their ass.”

The girls looked horrified.

“Moreover, nobody can touch anybody else’s pussy, tits or ass and nobody can leave the house. Instead, you’re all going to clean this place up. It’s a mess. I want all the beds made with clean sheets, all the panties and stockings removed from ceiling fans, all the quim stains cleaned from the carpets and banisters. After that, I want all of you showered. You can touch yourselves while you’re in the shower, but you can only shower for five minutes each and only one person in a shower at a time. Once you’re clean, everybody gets dressed in their sexiest, sluttiest clothes and do your makeup. The fliers we put around campus say you’re the hottest bimbo whores around and you’d damned well better look like it. Once everyone’s ready, then we fuck. Anyone who breaks the rules doesn’t get any cock until two hours after the guest arrive. Understand?”

The bimbos looked miserable. Brooke looked like she was about to cry. But they all said “Yes, Mistress.” She had trained them well.

“Well, come on now!” Cat roared. “Get cleaning!”

The bimbos leapt up and scurried about, some of them with the larger racks falling over in their attempt to stand to quickly. Those that couldn’t get back up crawled about picking up the undergarments that littered the floor, dragging their huge tits along the floor.

Marissa!” called out Cat to her former roommate, who was wearing an outfit that consisted of a pink silk ribbon wrapped about her and tied in a bow between her tits. Marissa immediately dropped a dildo she had taken out of a potted plant and came to her mistress.

“Yes Mistress Cat?” she asked.

“I have another job for you,” she said. “Come to my bedroom.”

Marissa followed her up their stairs to her room. There in the middle of the biggest bedroom in the house was Mistress Cat’s huge bed, specially designed by her friends at BimboTech. It was big enough for half a dozen bimbos to fuck on it at once without falling off, with straps to tie limbs down at various points and four tall bedposts with platforms around them where bimbos could pole dance.

Mistress Cat undid her black lace G-string and let it flutter to the ground. She picked up the latest issue of Hustler from the nightstand, then pulled out the cushion that filled the cutout depression in the middle of the mattress. By design, it was precisely the size of Cat’s tremendous rack. She crawled onto the bed and eased her titties into their cozy nest, then started to flip through her magazine.

“Worship my ass, Marissa,” she said without looking up.

“But you said,” started Marissa.

“Rules don’t apply to me, stupid whore! I’m Queen of the Bimbos! Face! Ass! Now!”

“Yes Mistress!” said Marissa and dove between Cat’s checks.

Mistress Cat sighed contentedly, then started reading an article on internet porn writers and their tremendous sexual prowess.

The bimbos were twitching and agitated. It was only 6:30, half an hour to go until Mistress Cat’s House of Pussy opened for business, according to the fliers. Cat wasn’t sure if they could make it. Brooke was babbling incoherently to herself walking in circles, purple-haired Jelly was ‘air-humping’ some imagined stud, a dozen others were sitting on couches squirming and rubbing their thighs together. Even Marissa, whom Cat herself had fisted after reading her magazine, was looking so randy she might die.

Then Becky bounced into the room, squealing. Becky was another Zeta slut and she was particularly good at bouncing. Her silicone tits were perfectly spherical and the size of soccer balls. The tiny orange string bikini she was wearing was doing what it could to contain them, but that wasn’t much. A blonde ponytail sprouted from the top of her head, looped up and then plunged down to curl up below her ass. The pony tail bounced along with her titties and even her inflated ass joined in the frenetic quivering.

“Becky!” roared Cat, “Becky, you bimbo! What is it?”

“They’re here! They’re here! They’re her!” Becky exclaimed, punctuating each exclamation with a leap into the air. The poor bikini gave up and let loose it’s bouncing cargo. Becky didn’t even notice.

“Who, damn it?” Cat demanded. She was getting edgy. She could use a good fuck herself.

“The guys, Mistress Cat! The guy that are gonna fuck us! They’re here! They’re here!”

Now all the bimbos were squealing and bouncing.

“Quiet!” Mistress Cat roared. “QUIET!!!”

The bimbos fell quiet, lips quivering into instant pouts.

“They’re early. The flier said 7:00. They’re probably all premature ejaculators.”

The bimbos’ eyes were pleading.

“But I guess we can start now.”

The bimbos cheered and cheered.

“CAT! CAT! CAT! CAT! CAT! CAT! CAT! CAT!” they cried.

Mistress Cat held her hands out and made her way through the crowd and towards the front door.

“Bimbos back!” she commanded and they stepped away from the door.

She opened the door and several dozen randy college boys stared in amazement at Mistress Cat. At least three of them came in their pants just at the site of her tits held out in an elaborate teddy of scarlet lace. She stood there with her half gloved hands on there naked hips, her leather booted feet spread wide. She was the only thing standing between two of the randiest forces in the universe. She felt powerful, in a way she thought the Hoover dam probably felt. There was money to be made here, though, so she opened for business.

“Welcome, gentlemen. Welcome to Mistress Cat’s House of Pussy. Tonight will be a night your cocks will never forget. We’re running an opening special: Everyone gets in for $100 each. It’ll be more next time, but I guarantee you’ll be back.”

She grinned her most predatory grin.

“So let’s get fucking!” she cried, then welcomed them in. The bimbos squealed. The guys roared. Each guy shoved C-notes or a wad of twenties between Cat’s jugs and were immediately grabbed by half a dozen bimbos and dragged to every corner of the house. The bimbos struggled with one another to be the first to get a cock into any available hole. The customers’ eyes got huge, unsure about just what they had gotten themselves into, but none of them complained. Since most of them had at least one pointed nipple shoved in their mouth, it wouldn’t have done much good anyway.

The actual opening time came and went. Customers with more patience began to show up and the ratio of bimbo to cock became more mane gable. Looking out across the vast orgy, the average was two bimbos to every customer. This worked rather well. There on the floor of the foyer, Becky was straddling a guy that Cat used to date ‘before’. She was bouncing along on his shaft, her bubble but slamming against Brooke’s face as she sucked on his balls. With some creative twisting, Brooke had also managed to get the guy’s big toe in her cunt.

When Mistress Cat turned back to the doorway from admiring her bimbos at work, she found a man in a suit flanked by two campus police officers. The suit Cat recognized as the dean of students, Randall Wallace. He was holding one of the advertisements her bimbos had posted around campus the day before. All three men looked like they were using all their will power to act professional, but it wasn’t enough to keep them from gawking at her gazongas. Cat smiled. This would not be a problem.

“Hello, Gentlemen,” she said. “Welcome to my House. I’m Mistress Cat.”

There was a noticeable pause as the Dean pried his eyes from her cleavage.

“You’re the one responsible for these?” he demanded, holding out a flier.

“MmmHmmm,” Catherine confessed with a nod.

“I’m very concerned,” the dean began.

“Well, If you’re very concerned,” Catherine interrupted. “I guess you can have a freebie. In fact, I’ll do it myself. I could use a shot of man-juice. Girls! I need some help here!”

There in the corner were a group of bimbos licking jism off each other’s tits and faces. They immediately came to their Mistress’s aid.

“You girls do the nice policemen. I’m going to do the Dean,” She looked for another assistant and found Fifi. “Fifi! Give the dean a rim job while I suck his cock!”

“Yes, Mistress Cat!” the bimbo exclaimed, looking up from her pussy.

“That wasn’t what I...” protested the dean, but he did nothing to stop her as Catherine squatted and pulled his pants down around his ankles. He already had quite a stiffy. Once his dick was in Catherine’s mouth and Fifi’s tongue was in his asshole, his concerns seemed to be mollified. Soon Catherine was swallowing spunk and the dean was jibbering.

“Now you just let me know if you have anymore concerns, O.K. sweetums?” she said, tucking his limp cock back into his pants. “Your cock is yummy!”

The dean looked down in a daze. Mistress Cat stuck her huge ass out as ballast for her rack, then stood back up. She then used her massive tits to herd the dean, smiling stupidly, deeper into the house. Discrete video cameras would provide enough blackmail material to keep the Dean’s concerns from becoming any of hers.

Mistress Cat had nearly a hundred thousand dollars in cash stuffed between her tits by ten o’clock and guys were still showing up. But Cat was horny. Having one of her bimbos take entrance fees was just asking for fraudulent entry, but fuck it! A few freebies would be worth a good fuck.

“Mony!” she called to the red-haired bimbo who had just finished taking it up the ass by a big black linebacker. “Come watch the door and take the customers’ money!”

Mony smoothed down her kilt and came to her Mistress’ assistance. Just then to tall, gangly looking young men showed up at the door, cash in their rather large hands. They were identical twins brothers and their feet were also quite large. Mistress Cat grinned. These were hers.

“Hello, boys!” she exclaimed, taking their cash and stuffing it between Mony’s freckled tits. “You’re with me!”

She took their large hands by the wrists and put one on each tit and one on each ass cheek.

“Oh my god!” said one of the twins.

“Goddess,” Cat corrected “You boys ever do the same girl at once?”

“Uh, no ma’am,” said one young man.

“Would you like to do me?” she asked. “I’d just looove to fuck two identical cocks at once!”

She wiggled her ass in their hands. The twins giggled nervously and let themselves be lead to the main room.

“Out of my way, bimbos,” she demanded, and three bimbos scurried off the couch Cat wanted, revealing one of the police officers that was underneath them. He looked about confused, then one of the bimbos grabbed him and lead him to another corner of the house. Mistress Cat started kneading the twins’ crotches within their pants. They were very well endowed!

“Get your pants off, boys! I need you inside me now!”

The twins blushed and stripped. They were long, hard, thick and veiny.

“YES!” Cat exclaimed. “You, lie on the couch!”

The twin she pointed at did as he was his told and his dick pointed skyward. Cat laughed then straddled him, her cunt engulfing his member. He grinned in utter bliss, then his face disappeared between her tits as she fell forward and turned her attention to his brother.

“You! Get that hard pecker in my ass! Fuck me fuck me fuck me!”

The twin did as instructed, aimed his cock at her bunghole as she spread her cheeks and rammed it home. With two long hard cocks in her, Cat was in heaven. She humped and humped, yelling out obscenities. Her bimbos watched in delight, fingering themselves and each other.

Mistress Cat arched her back and reached back to curl her fingers in the curly pubic hair of the twin plumbing her asshole, encouraging him to fuck her harder. His brother stared up at the huge knockers hanging above him as Cat’s pussy squeezed and squeezed him.

“Bimbos!” she called. “Suck my titties!”

Eight girls came forward, bared her bosom, and enthusiastically gave her eight hickies on her huge bimbotits. Life was good. The twins started to come at the same instant and filled her cunt and ass with hot sticky spunk. Cat through her head back and roared.

“Dude, it’s that crazy slut we was doin’!”

Cat heard a voice that seemed vaguely familiar. She looked about and found Marissa being approached by the same two guys that Catherine had chased away from her roommate a lifetime ago.

“No fuckin’ way!” said the other one. Chet, she thought his name was. “That slut’s tits weren’t no where that big!”

“So she got a boob job, dumb ass!” said Derek.

“Hi!” said Marissa, sticking out her chest. “Wanna play hide the sausage?”

“Dude! I told you it was her!”

Catherine pushed away her bimbos from her tits, then patted her twin studs by way of thank you. She slipped deflating cocks out of her holes and approached her former roommate and her suitors.

“Marissa’s really horny,” Marissa was explaining . “Nice boys wanna fucky-fucky?”

“Yeah, dude! Let’s do it!” said Derek.

“I dunno, man. What if her crazy roommate shows up?” said Chet.

“Oh, I don’t think you have to worry about her,” said Mistress Cat. “That bitch is gone for good.”

Marissa giggled. The boys turned to do a double take at Cat’s tits. What little attention they gave to her face wasn’t enough for them to recognize her.

“Wow! You’re hot!” said Derek. “Do you wanna, like, you know...”

“Maybe later,” said Cat. “Right now I wanna watch you two fuck this bimbo-whore from both ends.”

“Goodie-goodie!” exclaimed Marissa, and hopped about to jiggle her tits.

Derek and Chet grinned and Cat undid their pants for them. Cat offered Derek’s cock to Marissa, who immediately squatted and started slurping at it. She led Chet by his cock to the other side of Marissa and bent to slap her ass until Marissa straightened her knees to present her pussy. Cat threaded Chet’s pecker into Marissa’s cooze and he proceeded to fuck her.

“Harder, boys, harder!” Mistress Cat prompted. “That ain’t no blushing virgin! She’s a skanky bimbo slut! Don’t be gentle—try to meet in the middle!”

Marissa groaned around Derek’s cock as he slammed it down her throat. Chet pistoned like a jack-hammer in her cunt. Cat grinned. It was almost perfect. But not quite.

Cat looked about and found what she needed, retrieved it, and returned to the blonde bimbo being drilled from both ends.

“You’re doing good boys, but you’re completely neglecting one of her best holes!” Cat told them.

She then took her biggest knobby black dildo and screwed it into Marissa’s asshole. Marissa squealed her gratitude. Mistress Cat was glad to help. After all, Marissa was her best friend.