The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Mistress? If I may have a word?”

Emile was doing his Jeeves thing, again. Respectful, but like he knew I put my pants on one leg at a time. Or would do, if I still had clothes, which luckily I didn’t, because right that moment they would have gotten in the way of Clyde’s cock. It was Sunday morning, and she was languidly serving it to me from behind while I rested my own major tits on the middle of a table.

“Go ahead—oof—I meant Emile.”

“I have received a call from Mistress Lewis. She says that she has already prepared a site for our rural retreat, but it seems there is a problem. She feels it would be unwise to bring in a crew of local builders, not to mention inspectors, given her present and intended activities there—to say nothing of her new form.”

“Couldn’t we do that? Do the building, I mean,” said my former pet, a little loudly so as to be heard over the squishing noises produced by her determinedly pistoning through our combined juices.

“My thoughts, exactly, Miss Clyde. Several of our minions were in the construction trade, and there are many of your sister servants who can provide the brute labour for the task. We need only acquire a bus with which to provide regular transport to the site. I can rent a truck to discreetly bring the required materials.”

This was well timed, actually. The unfortunate incident with Max and his buddy the previous Thursday had ended well enough, what with them becoming sex-bots. Plus we’d made three new converts from among the club patrons—quite literally in the case of one, a goth-girl who was quickly manufactured into a shiny new Latex Submissive, Model S-001, with the lady-pleaser mod.

But the whole affair had created quite a stir, and I’d seen that we were going to have to cut a lower profile for a while. Which was looking to be a bit tricky, what with the crowd we were accumulating up in the loft. We hosted a hugely toned-down Friday and Saturday at the Club, featuring no Latex Girls at all—at least, no undisguised LG’s. Although, on the bright side, there were some excellently costumed simulations among the clubbers. (One of whom we also recruited; she was the bright yellow S-001 presently coupling nearby with Demi.)

Anyway, now Lewis had conveniently provided us with an outlet for some of our randy babes to burn off excess steam.

“Do it—erk! I meant Emile.”

Emile quickly got his hands on an old tour bus, with suitably tinted windows (last used by some local rock band). That same night, Pril set off in charge of a work party consisting of our two robots, and all the Subs (except for my Clyde, and Elfie to do the cooking, but including Molly, who was beginning to get on my nerves what with the crazed singing). Our minion boys went along too, seeing as how they claimed to know all about construction. Plus, Matrix Guy was licensed to drive a bus—a bonus since we needed someone up front that could pass for normal. Even our resident mermaid Coral went along—both to be with her sweetie, and to try out the pond she’d heard about. No big deal—they didn’t have to constantly splash water on her, or anything. It was just a matter of lugging her aboard.

It was lucky they were all on friendly terms, as you might say. Packing that bus seemed to involve saving space by inserting a great many bits inside of each other—although I suspect this wasn’t strictly necessary. Suffice to say, they wouldn’t need to resort to ‘Ninety-nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall’ to pass the time—although it turned out Molly did start up a Sixty-nine Bottles version, which Pantoufle quickly dealt with by catching hold of Demi’s tail and inserting it down her throat.

After the rubber-bus had set off, I put in motion my latest cunning plan. I detailed Emile and Trixie to go rescue Max’s two S-001 units from his mansion, along with the contents of his (sorry, its) walk-in vault. To take care of its room and board, of course. It seems to need a high-oil diet now. I sent them off with all the necessary access codes, which I had extracted from Maxine-bot before sending it off with Pril.

That expedition was a complete success—they came back with a pair of confused S-001s, a big pile of loot, and a small surprise. Emile was a teeny bit cranky about that part.

“We didn’t ask the Maxi-bot whether there was anyone else in the mansion, did we?”

This was a bit cheeky, ‘cause it was me who’d done the asking. “Sure I did—I specifically asked if there were any guards or staff.”

“Well, meet the girlfriend.” This being the unconscious person slung over his shoulder. “She came after us with a Gloch.”

“She attacked you with a xylophone?”

Emile closed his eyes and sighed. When he opened them again, he had his Jeeves-face back in place. “Not a glockenspiel, a gun. She tried to shoot us, but we’d already cut the power, so the mind control system was down. One of the Latex girls hit her from behind with an ashtray.” He nodded toward the pair.

“They were, ahh, annoyed with her.”

The LG on his left spoke up: “She treated us like were just ... things!”

“Not that we minded, so much,” admitted the other, “but she should have!”

I knew the feeling. Turning back to Emile, I stared meaningfully at his bundle.

“So you kidnapped her?”

“We couldn’t leave her,” Emile said, reasonably. “She’d seen our faces, and she was bound to miss her S-001s. And miss Max, too, eventually.”

Although I wasn’t keen to change anyone against their will, I’d already done it to her boyfriend and his buddy. This was just tidying up ... sort of. “Let’s get her in the lab, then.”

“Perhaps we should wait for Miss Molly ...”

“Nonsense—I’ve helped her often enough.” I was pretty sure this babe would be a problem, unless we went All The Way, so I added, “There’s some more of that robot gear back there, too.”

I wasn’t positive, but I thought I heard another sigh from Emile. He followed along, though, and brought along our latest conscript.

Nadia lurched to sudden awareness. Damn. Her head felt three-feet thick. There’d been a big gorilla of a guy and some floozy sneaking around her house, and she’d just got the drop on them, and then, POW! Somebody had coshed her. Now, she was sitting on a hard floor with her head on her knees. Oddly enough, she seemed to be wearing football pads or something on her thighs.

She slowly lifted her head to find herself looking into the faces of the Gorilla and the Floozy, plus her two sex-toys. The latter were regarding her with their perpetually surprised expressions—eyes and mouths opened wide. There was another latex-girl there, too, who looked much like her own, but with odd hair, a slightly less doll-like face ... and high-heeled feet. She was, in fact, a bit fierce looking—and she seemed to be in charge.

I knew those things were bad news when Max brought them home, she thought. She opened her mouth to scream, but was startled to hear her own voice blandly say, “Status ... Standby.”

Gorilla-guy squinted at her, and said, “that’s curious—the other two didn’t do that.”

“Beats me,” said the boss latex-girl. “As near as I can tell, the only thing different is, we had no more breast or back plates, or gloves.”

The guy responded with a noncommittal grunt, and then pulled his arm away from Nadia. Suddenly she felt the tug of a leash fastened to her neck. Instead of resisting, or reaching up to find out what held her, she simply started to crawl toward him. Or rather, her body did—she seemed to have no say in the matter at all. As she crept forward, she could see her forearms—they were covered in the same hard, white stuff as her thighs. Her hands, on the other hand (as it were) were the same glossy black as those of her love-dolls. That, she decided, was a bad sign.

“Stand up,” Gorilla-guy said, and Nadia quickly stood to attention, albeit a little clumsily, like an automaton. She wanted to turn and run, or even tilt her head to see more of herself, but her body simply stood there. She knew she had a simple-minded look of surprise on its face—her eyes were open wide, and her mouth an open oval ... oh, oh. That was probably a very bad sign.

They all stared at her, looking slightly puzzled.

It was the Floozy who spoke next. “It said ‘status standby’. So it has at least one other status.”

It? Status? Nadia couldn’t understand why they were treating her like this, much less why was she letting them. She wanted to hyperventilate, feint even, but she knew somehow that her body would carry on without her. All she could do was look out at the view and follow along for the ride.

“Well, let’s find out ... but I didn’t see any buttons,” said the boss doll.

“I don’t think it has any, Mistress. Probably voice activated,” said the gorilla. To Nadia, he said,

“Start-up. Begin. Resume. No? Okay—how about: Stop. Shut down. Sleep ... Standby—there, it’s back on.”

Nadia shuddered, at least her mind tried to. Between ‘sleep’ and ‘standby’, everything had abruptly gone to black. It had passed so quickly she would hardly have noticed ... except that in that blink, everyone in the room suddenly shifted to completely different locations around her. One of her sex-toys was now squeezing her butt. (Which one? She still couldn’t tell them apart.) It was hugely disorienting—and scary.

Gorilla -guy was still calling out words, but it was the Floozy who got it.

“Activate,” she said.

Nadia felt something like a head-rush, and she repeated, “Status Active,” in a sultry voice. Even as she said it, she felt her nipples harden, and her pussy moisten. She felt another sensation down there: an odd vibration, followed by a sudden breeze. Her hand dropped to grope herself, and she received a new shock—there was a circular hole in the plastic encasing her groin, and her leaking pussy seemed to be somehow bonded to its rim. Her cunt was open, very open, and in spite of herself she slid her fingers inside. Now that she could move her limbs, lust seemed to be fogging her mind.

Which was when another doll creature stepped up from behind her. This one’s face and tits were identical to her former sex toys, but it had the hooves and partially extended phallus of a stallion.

“May I try it out, Mistress?”

Nadia turned to the man still holding her leash, and asked, huskily, “Yes—could she, please?”

The boss—the one they referred to as Mistress—said, “I don’t know—it was Trixie who figured out the command.”

Trixie laughed. “God—look, it’s drooling at both ends. I think I’d sooner watch, thanks. Emile?”

“All right,” said Emile. “Take its leash, Clyde.”

Nadia was ecstatic—she could barely decide where to begin pleasuring this creature. Choosing, she dropped to her knees. It would be with her mouth, first. She rubbed her face along the side of the horse-cock, and then began to lick it and slide her tongue into the hole at its tip. Once she had lubricated the thing to her satisfaction, she fed it down her throat. Deep down her throat—as Clyde’s cock began to stiffen and grow, she could feel it slide down further and further.

It felt wonderful. She began to rock back and forth on her knees, so as to be able to work it in and out. At each bob forward, she took more, until her nose was intermittently pressing against Clyde’s pubic bone. And still the thing grew ... until it exploded with a flood of cum.

As a good sex-bot, Nadia sucked on, her lips clamped tight around the base of Clyde’s pumping cock.

After several minutes of gurgling sound effects, Trixie said, “Standby.”

Nadia stopped suckling the drained wang. She was still aroused, in a mellow sort of way; but the terrifying lust had vanished. Plus, there had been a faint clicking sound, and the titillating breeze into her pussy had abruptly stopped. Up until that point, she had supposed she was under hypnosis, or something. Somehow, she would escape these crazy people. But now she found herself kneeling between this bizarre creature’s legs with two-feet-worth of fat cock impossibly down her throat. And a belly full of cum.

Whatever she was, it wasn’t Nadia any more. She could remember her former life—every ordinary thing right up until that night ... but that Nadia had been the raw material for this one.

“Okay,” she heard Trixie say. “Who’s next?”

Clyde stepped back, her cock sliding back into view, and then another rubberized creature appeared in her place—this one a green version of the pair she’d enjoyed in what now appeared to be a former life.

“Me, please,” Greenie said. Her voice was thick with lust, plus there seemed to be something wrong with her tongue ... it was beginning to protrude from her mouth, and swell. No—it can’t be, thought Nadia.

“Activate for Elfie,” Trixie told her.

God, I hope it is, was Nadia’s next thought. Whatever had sealed her pussy snicked back open, releasing a flood of pent-up of juices. She licked her open lips in anticipation, then rolled to the floor and scissored her legs open to welcome Elfie’s most unusual phallus.

I watched as Elfie climbed aboard our enthusiastic new bot, driving her fat cock-tongue into the thing’s pussy-port and planting her own cunt over its hungry mouth. “So did anybody happen to get its name?”

“You mean did she introduce herself, back when she was fixing to shoot us?” asked Trixie.

Emile gave his little sister a hug, then fished a driver’s licence out of his pocket. “Her name was Nadia—and I’m afraid she managed to give a nasty turn, back there. Would you mind if she and I test out the toys we brought back from the mansion?”

Toys? It was time I had a closer look at the swag they’d brought home from Max’s, myself. And just maybe Emile would let me help him cheer up his pretty sister. “Does Dolly Parton sleep on her back?”

Emile gave me an odd look. “Well, yes ... I suppose she does ...”

“Hell, yes.” There was a long pause. “Oh. Ah. Which is to say, no, I don’t mind, and yes, check out the toys. Would you mind if I helped?”

Emile smiled. “By all means—join us.”