The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Author’s Note; This story appeared in Chrystal Wynd’s September 2012 Arena Contest (The Name is Wynd...Chrystal Wynd) at MC Forum. It is really the first truly new story I’ve posted since Let Me Count the Ways. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it.

License to Give a Nasty Paper Cut

I walked into Benny’s Bar and Grill and took a look around for my target. After about ten minutes, I saw her. She looked nothing like her picture of course. Women who were kidnapped and brought to the steamy burgh of Chrystal Heights seldom did once the magic was worked upon them. Still, I could not be bothered with a trifling little thing like magic. Contrary to popular opinion, not all Brits wore spectacles, goofy hats and murmured incantations.

I am, or at least I like to think of myself as a walking anachronism. In this day of rampant magic, I am a creature of another time. Still, in all ways that matter, my kind is timeless. When it came to this mission, Her Majesty thought so. The PM thought so. Even the girl’s titled father thought so. They all knew that my skills and talents, along with the Walther PPK I carried in my pocket, were just as dangerous as any book of incantations. I walked up to the bar.

“What can I get you?” asked the barman.

“For starters, I’ll have a Vodka Martini, molested; not stirred.”

“What?” asked the man.

“Do I have to explain your business to you, you bleeedin’ Yank?! Take the shaker, fill it with vodka, add a splash of dry vermouth, give the shaker to those two bimbos with the ridiculously large breasts, have them stick it between their cleavages, pull their bodies close to each other and have them jump up and down for five minutes. Then make them smoke a bloody cigarette.”

“I’m sorry, sir. State law prevents smoking in all…”

“OK, they can dispense with the fags then.”

“What?”

“The bloody cigarettes!” I groaned. “Have them make out that way instead.”

“OK, then that would make them ‘female fags’,” he laughed.

“Whatever,” I said, not really in the mood for his somewhat amusing observation.

When he turned his back, I walked over to my target. She was holding court with a bunch of men who were all fondling her mammoth mammary marsupials.

“Please come with me,” I said taking her arm.

“What the fuck?!” yelled one of the men, until I causally flashed the contents of my inner tuxedo pocket and he saw my Walther. “Fuck! He’s got a gun…” he started before one of his friends jabbed him hard in the ribs when he saw that my darkened look meant business. I escorted my target back to the bar.

“Cor Love! Is that a gun in your pocket or are ya jus’ ‘appy ta see me,” giggled the blond in a bizarre sort of cockney that would have made Dick Van Dyke proud (but nobody else).

Only a titled lady under mind control could concoct such a poor accent. That told me I had the right girl. The crescent moon birthmark on her right bum cheek confirmed that opinion.

When we got there, I saw the barman watching the giggling bimbos as they gave a double, bouncy tit-job to the Martini shaker. I caught his attention. “Where’s Benny?” I asked.

“Benny’s on vacation,” he replied, his eyes trying to scan back to the bimbo barmaids. I would not let them.

“Call him now!” I ordered.

“He would not want to be disturbed.”

I sighed. “Typical Benny,” I thought and looked at the man earnestly. “Who’s in charge in Benny’s absence?” I said, as I felt the “Titled Trollop” stroking my John Thomas through my britches.

“Mike. He’s kind of new. He’s some hotshot college kid…”

“I don’t need his life story. Just get him for me.”

“Who should I tell him wants to see him,” he asked.

“I’m Blonde; James Blonde.”

“But you have dark hair,” he complained.

“It’s my bleeding name! Now tell Mike to get his arse over here right now!” I yelled.

“OK, buddy. Don’t have a stroke. I’ll get him.”

* * *

A few minutes later the barman returned with a young man who looked fresh out of University.

“Mike, I presume?”

“Yeah, Mister?”

“Blonde.”

“You look more like a brunette to me. Nice dye job, by the way” he smirked. The joke never got old.

“Do you know who this is?” I asked, as I hauled the big-titted bimbo in front of him.

“Looks like your run-of-the-mill Bimbo to me. A hundred bucks an hour since it’s a really slow night,” he grinned.

“Listen, you young upstart. This is Lady Jane Siccupp…” I started.

“Looks more like ‘Lady Jane Triple G-Cup’, if you asked me,” he said, smirk intact.

Now I was really getting angry. “Look, you realize about the treaty between Her Majesty’s government and Chrystal Heights?”

“What?” he asked.

“You are forbidden from kidnapping Her Majesty’s citizens and turning them into bimbos without prior authorization and you are not permitted under ANY circumstances to kidnap a titled woman and affront her sensibilities by converting her into a bimbo!”

Mike scratched his chin. “I’ve never heard of any such rules. My guess is that you‘re lying. Benny told me not to trust any ‘frogs’.”

“I’m not French.”

“No, but I bet you have webbed feet.”

Now I was livid. “Call your boss right now!” I yelled.

“He wouldn’t like it…”

“Then call the Mayor. He helped negotiate the treaty,” I tried to reason.

“I’m not talking to him.”

“Why?” I asked, expecting to get the ridiculous answer I would get.

“Because I didn’t vote for him.”

“Look, I don’t have time for this. I’m taking her.”

“Not unless you pay. You can’t leave the building with her either.”

“Why?”

“Because, it wouldn’t be good for business, if I let you,” he menaced.

“Well, I’m going to take her,” I said, allowing my steadfast partner to show from my tuxedo pocket.

“That’s a fair cop!” laughed the bimbo formerly known as Lady Jane Siccupp, in her ridiculous cockney.

“You don’t think that will do you any good in here,” said Mike, as he pulled out a magic wand.

“Shit! I hate those bloody things,” I thought, but I was not really worried. While I personally bemoaned the mothballing of Zed and his “Zed Division”, I had to admit that the new “M Division” was the only way to fight these modern magical terrorists.

“Benny was just telling me before he left that he wanted more monkeys around here,” grinned Mike. “He has this idea that a good way to drum up business was to get a bunch of bimbos, give them organ grinders and monkeys. As you can see, he’s got plenty of bimbos. He got a deal on a huge lot of organ grinders, wholesale. Now he just needs monkeys. Since you’re wearing a ‘monkey suit’, I think you’ll fit in quite nicely around here,” he said, waving the magic wand at me.

I felt myself begin to change. I felt furry and started to get shorter. All of a sudden, the process reversed and there was a small explosion of energy from me and it fired back at Mike. Within seconds, he had gotten hairy and shrunk out of his clothes. He began to hop around making a huge row; knocking over bottles behind the bar with his tail. He was quickly captured and put into a cage in the back with another bunch of monkeys.

“That will teach you to mess with good British counter-spells. What did you expect? We’re the home of Merlin and Harry bloody…” I started to boast, but was interrupted.

“Is that a real gun?” asked the barman, pointing to the bulge in my tuxedo jacket pocket.

I shook my head at what impressed these Yanks. “Yeah, it’s got real bullets too.”

“I bet you’re one of those Secret Agents… you know... ‘double O…”

“No, that’s the other guy,” I said, bemoaning that HE got all of the press. “I’m still a man with a sexy accent and straight teeth. I can get any girl I want,” I boasted again.

“Then why are you here?” he asked.

“I came for Lady Jane.”

“She looks like a bimbo to me.”

I looked at my companion who had again started to stroke my member with one hand and twirling her golden locks with the other. The barman may have been a simpleton, but in a way, he was right. “Well, I’m going to take her now if you don’t mind.”

“OK, you have a gun and license to kill, so I ain’t gonna stop you.”

“Well, to be honest, my ‘license to kill’ does not work here because of the treaty. I do have ‘license to give you a nasty paper cut…”

“Is that all?” laughed the man.

“On your ‘John Thomas’.” I clarified.

“What?” he asked.

“On your…” I said looking down at my crotch.

“Shit! No!” he said with a horrified expression.

“And dip it in battery acid after,” I grinned, as I watched his face shrivel and his hands block his crotch.

“Just kidding,” I laughed. “I’d just kill you.”

He laughed. “I like you. You’re pretty funny for a limey. OK, take the girl. I’m sure you were right about the whole treaty thing. Mike didn’t know his soup from his nuts.”

“I bet he know his bananas now,” I laughed, as the barman joined me.

As I started to leave, he reminded me. “Don’t forget your drink. Those bimbos worked really hard to ‘molest’ it just right for you.”

I grinned. I just wanted to see them jump around and make out. They were still going at it, despite already making my drink, “How much?”

“It’s on the house. You just got me a promotion,” laughed the barman.

I took the drink, gulped it down and walked out with a titled bimbo on my arm.

* * *

I took her to my hotel to shag her back to normal. Before leaving base, I had been injected with a magical compound. The compound bonded to my DNA. The hope was that this would stabilize Lady Jane’s DNA and would reverse the process, thus allowing Lady Jane to return to normal. Of course the way that I would inject the bimbo would be a lot of fun for both of us.

“Cor! Wot a loverly cock, you got, gov,” she giggled, sounding more like a drunken charwoman than the bimbofied porn star she appeared to be.

I groaned as I felt her lower her steamy pussy on my rock hard shaft. While I did fairly well with the ladies, I never had such a hot, big-titted slut like this one. It was hard to believe that underneath this slut, was the prim and proper Lady Jane.

“Uhhhh… Fuck me, Love!” she moaned from on top of me, as I saw her face scrunch up in ecstasy. Her blond locks and huge tits, flapped all around as she rode me.

“Damn this slut is hot,” I thought to myself, as I felt me seed start to boil. For a moment, I thought about pulling out and putting on a condom. That way, I would be able to prevent the transformation and keep this slut for myself. Then my compassion and sense of duty kicked in and so did my inevitable climax. I fired blast after blast of my magic spend into her burning, bimbo pussy. Before I blacked out, I saw her eyes cross and heard her scream.

About ten minutes later, I opened my eyes and I was lying next to a totally different woman. Like the picture I carried, this one was a redhead. As Mike had joked about her name, she was on the larger side of C, heading towards D. She still seemed horny, because she was nibbling on my ear and stroking my shaft. I remembered that my contact in “M Division” had warned me that it would take a bit longer for the mental changes to take effect.

“That was great, baby,” she husked. “Are you too knackered or are you up for another go?”

I decided to oblige the lady (for now, I was using the term loosely) and I rolled over on top of her. Her tits had been too big for me fuck her on top the first time, but this time, the logistics were just about right.

By the time I had fired a second course of medicine into her clutching channel, I could tell that she was reverting back to herself.

“I can’t believe what I’ve been doing for the last week. You must think me a terrible slut, Commander Blonde,” she said hiding her eyes.

“You were not yourself, Lady Jane,” I said in a matter of fact manner, before pulling her hands away from her face and kissing her sweetly on the lips.

“Oh, James!” she moaned, as she deepened the kiss.

* * *

About an hour later, I escorted Lady Jane out to my Aston Martin and we drove away.

I could tell that my companion was troubled.

“James, what am I going to do?”

“What do you mean?’ I asked.

“I was abducted in London. I don’t have my passport…”

“Never fear, my Lady. You won’t need a passport aboard this plane,” I smiled.

“I don’t understand. This is a car…”

I pushed a button and the retractable wings came out and unfolded. “Actually it is the last collaboration between ‘Zed Division” and ‘M Division’. The perfect marriage of technology and magic,” I grinned, as I hit the straightway and punched the gas pedal. Soon we were going over a hundred and forty miles an hour.

“James!” she screamed, as we became airborne and I quickly engaged the cloaking mechanism and the jet engines. We landed at a secret base off the Scottish coast about four hours later.

* * *

I’d like to say that my rescue of Lady Jane was the end of her trouble, but unfortunately what none of us realized was that the Bimbo effect was permanent. About a week later, I received a panicked call from the PM, telling me that his personal friend and benefactor, Lord Anthony Siccupp, fifty-third Earl of Partridgeston, was in distress due to the fact that his daughter had “turned back into the blond floozy” and was attempting to seduce the gardener.

Soon, we realized that the only way to keep Lady Jane herself, was for her to get a regular dose of the special medicine that apparently I was the only source. “M Division” tried everything they could, but they simply could not create a counter-spell to reverse the process (as the spell had already taken complete effect). They also failed to reproduce the effect of the serum they used on me to temporarily restore Lady Jane to herself. Apparently, my genetic makeup was superior (OK, they said “unique” not “superior”, but I enjoy gloating about it). In the end, I motored to Partridgeston, gained entrance into the manor and soon found myself balls deep in the big-titted bimbo. Not only did I have her father’s permission to do what I was doing, but his blessing too. I had to admit to enjoying this chore. I also decided that maybe it might be time to retire. I had wanted to retire to the life of an English gentleman. Here was my chance.

* * *

Well, if you had not figured it out by now, I had grown quite fond of Lady Jane (and “Janey”, her bimbo alter ego). While she had always been a looker, Lady Jane, had also been a bit of a prig prior to her kidnapping. Still, her experiences as a slutty bimbo (and with my “John Thomas”) had loosened her up quite a bit. Aside from the practical need to have me around, it appeared that she had grown quite fond of me too. We were married at St. Paul’s in a big ceremony that was one of the social events of the year (until some bloke name Will married a girl name Kate). I have to tell you I am incredibly happy. I received a huge dowry from Jane’s father which we used to purchase a small estate. I was also granted early retirement from MI-7 with the gratitude of a grateful nation and my complete indexed pension.

Now, basically all Jane and I do is run the estate, volunteer in the village and fuck… actually we fuck a lot. We did have twins in May (a boy and a girl) and we found out something interesting. Lady Jane did not change into Janey while she was pregnant or while she was nursing (though her tits did get substantially bigger, but that is another story). Both “M Division” and an unretired Zed, theorized that since my DNA residing in the children were in her body for an extended period of time, she was immune from the change. We also learned something else. We both missed Janey. She missed being her and I missed fucking her. Since we now had a child of each gender, we decided that she would go back on the pill and we would let Janey out to play.

Soon, Jane learned how to consciously trigger the change and we had lots of fun. She still could not figure how to control the occasional unplanned Janey appearance, but one jolt from my “magic wand” sent Janey back to the ether until we summoned her again.

Speaking of which, now, I’m laying flat on my back, as my slutty, big-titted, bimbo wife, was riding me for all of her worth.

“Fuck me with that loverly cock o’ yours, Love!” she cried out in that poor, cockney charwoman accent, that I had grown to love, as I mauled her ridiculously huge tits.

I could not help to take a moment to ruminate on my career in MI-7. Yes, the missions were dangerous, but they led me to this incredible bit-o-tail that lived for my cock and the loving, sexy creature she normally was. I also thought about Benny and his stupid assistant (now monkey), Mike. If that idiot had not fucked up and violated the treaty, I’d probably be on some dangerous mission, instead of fucking my personal bimbo and loving wife.

The funny thing was that my father-in-law was jealous. He saw how happy Jane and I were and wondered if I could do anything to help him and his wife Lady Stephanie. I knew that my mother-in-law was a bit uptight and figured that maybe a trip to Chrystal Heights might just be the thing to loosen her up. There was the treaty to consider, but figured I’d let Lord Anthony worry about that. I had given him Benny’s number and wished him luck.

As I fired my seed into my convulsing bimbo, I rolled her over and kissed her. I then watched her transform back into the woman I loved. We cuddled, laughed and then got ready for round two.