The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Alright, this is a follow-up story the collaboration between ChrystalWynd’s and me—The Slut of Chrystal Bay. Inspiration suddenly struck me one day and I pounded this one out in three days or so. I have no idea what happened—my muse must have been very horny or something.

I’ve experimented with some new fetishes in this piece—namely, pregnancy and lactation. If you don’t like those, feel free to stop reading now. For me...I’m not sure I would really consider them my fetishes? Sometimes they are and sometimes they aren’t. Kinda depends on my mood I guess...the mind and libido are strange aren’t they?

In any case, please do enjoy, and I welcome any feedback of any sort!

* * *

The Slut of Chrystal Bay Part 2

It had been more than a month since Morgan had left and left me with my new and improved body (I use those words very loosely...) and it took me a while to adjust to my new routine aboard the Dark Wind. Which was essentially the same as the old one, just with a lot more sex.

My secret shame had been paraded before the world to see, and everyone knew that for all my posturing and plans, I was actually just a hungry, needy slut that wanted to be fucked all the time. I would mewl and growl in mock affront whenever a burly slaver grabbed me to have his way with me, but I knew and they knew—and they knew that I knew—that all I was now was a willing slut.

But in its own way it was truly liberating. I was free to be who she was now, with no subterfuge or prevarication. There was no way I could ever go back to my old life (not even assuming Morgan would even let me...) Not when everyone knew who and what I truly was. So I gave in to the desires running through my body. When I was told to suck someone off, I dropped to my knees without a second thought. When someone even so much as looked at my ass, I bent forwards and presented it as if by reflex. No more hiding, no more lies.

So I sucked and fucked with wild abandon. I was as randy as a goat and twice as passionate. Morgan had been true to her word. I was horny almost all the time, unable to resist the attentions of the crew of the Dark Wind. Luckily for me there was no shortage of men to service. The slavers took me in all sorts of ways—in my mouth, ass and pussy, over tables and below decks, nailed to the wall or splayed out helplessly on the floor. They palmed my enormous endowments and bubblebutt behind for all they were worth and I swooned into their caresses.

After a few months of sailing from place to place, Skipper had apparently decided that I would be better off on an island that he and his crew called home when they weren’t aboard ship—the Dark Isle. Or maybe he had traded me to the inhabitants there...I don’t know and didn’t ask. Wouldn’t have done me any good to do so—no one told sex slaves around here anything.

It was a nice place, as deserted islands go. Palm trees and bushes everywhere, but no modern amenities to be found. That’s right, no Internet, no electricity, nothing of that nature. It was a return to Nature in the truest sense of the word. But it did also have lots of men who were only too eager to make me feel at home and fuck me into submission again and again. They provided me with a small hut which was to be my new home, and after the Dark Wind sailed off I resumed my normal activities—which is to say, I continued having sex with every man in sight.

I had thought that the first changes to my body had made my breasts big, but they paled in comparison to the full F-cups that I now sported. The men couldn’t take their eyes off them, and I couldn’t blame them—they were so big that they were often the first thing anyone saw when they looked at her, massive melons that projected almost a meter from my chest. My butt was now so tight and round that it actually swayed a little from side to side when I walked, so if my front didn’t capture someone’s attention, my back sure did.

My pussy was indeed tighter, and two days after the change for the first time in my slave’s life I was unable to fit a penis into my dripping hole. (the man was really big, bigger than Skipper...which meant big!) We were both initially dismayed, but the copious lubrication I now produced (another gift from the Original) enabled us to solve the problem in double-quick time. I just had to slide my dripping quim over his tool enough times to get him and I all lubed up, and then he slid into me without any problem at all. Who needed KY jelly when you had a vagina that practically leaked pussy juice when aroused? I would have been embarrassed if I wasn’t too busy moaning as I got my brains fucked out for the umpteenth time.

There were small changes as well. Morgan had somehow eliminated my gag reflex, so I was able to deep throat without choking. My lips had become so sensitive that now even the simple act of licking them sent shockwaves throughout my lush body. Sucking cock was now about as fun for me as the person I was fellating.

And that wasn’t all. The Original had apparently left some things for me to discover. Namely, that my butt (and not just my asshole) was now an erogenous zone as well, and merely stroking it would cause me to start moistening and panting. I acquired a penchant for being spanked after my time aboard the Dark Wind, and now I found myself begging for a good paddling even more often than I solicited the crew for sex. The pain in my rump was just a gateway to greater heights of rapture, and being taken in my behind after someone had beaten it good and proper made me moan so hard and loud I was a little embarrassed.

All in all, my new and improved body was perfect for the role of a sex slave...which is what I was. Day in and day out I engaged in activities that would make a satyr blush. I had been horny as hell before, after the first transformation, but now I was insatiable. I would have a man in my mouth, another in my ass and be jacking off two more on either side when I would orgasm mightily as one by one by lovers came on and inside me. Orgies were an everyday occurrence for me now.

What with all this fucking going around, it was only natural that what happened would happen.

Though it took me about three months to notice it. It was just another day on the island, when I happened to run my hands down my stomach and realize that I had put on some weight. Only that wasn’t possible. With the amount of fucking I was doing every day, it would have been a miracle if I added any fat to my trim yet curvy form. So it couldn’t be that I was getting fat.

There was something else. I sensed something was different...how different, I was soon to find out. I rushed back to the little hut I called home and gazed at myself in the mirror.

There it was. It couldn’t be...but it was. I ran my hands over my stomach in despairing wonder, eyes fixed on the beginnings of a tummy bump. I knew what it was even as I tried to deny the reality of it.

I was pregnant.

In retrospect, it was only a matter of time before it happened. Contraception was all but unknown on the island, and since all I did was fuck from sunup to sundown, it made sense that eventually I would get knocked up. I had somehow assumed that what with all the changes she had made to my body, Morgan would have done away with my reproductive capability or installed some kind of safeguard, or...but she didn’t. And I was far too busy with trying to escape and subsequently, being transformed into an even bigger slut to pay it any mind. Until it was too late and I had a bun in the oven.

I was unprepared for the reality of it all. I was pregnant. I had another life inside of me. And in nine months I would bring it into the world. But wait...could I abort the baby? How? Did I even want to? It was all too much to take in it once, and I sat down on the bed, breathing heavily.

I didn’t know the first thing about being pregnant. Would I need to change my diet? Sleep more? Stop having sex...well, at least that wasn’t in the cards. I could stop fucking about as easily as I could stop breathing. There would be a lot to learn.

I looked at my stomach in the mirror again and sighed. If being a sex slave wasn’t bad enough, now I was a pregnant one as well.

* * *

I told the men of the island, and they took action immediately...despite being on a deserted island somewhere in the Pacific, they were not uncivilized. They took me to the witch doctor (which was what passed for a gynecologist here) and he pronounced me fit in all respects. And yes...to answer everyone’s unspoken question, I could still have sex.

Which I continued to do with great gusto. I had no idea that being pregnant would make me so, well, horny all the time. I supposed it was due to hormones or increased estrogen or something (I was never too good at science...) but whatever it was, it was like I couldn’t restrain herself at all. Not like I was exactly a model of chastity to begin with...but now I had even less inhibitions than before (if that was even possible)

A man had only to crook a finger at me and smile and I would have no choice but to go over and give him a blowjob, or let him take me in the ass, or (my secret favorite) be fucked roughly against one of the palm trees on the island, my giant tits smushed up against rough bark as my insides were plowed by a huge cock. I needed sex like a man in the desert needed water. Maybe the release of hormones from being pregnant had made me hornier...I had no way to know, but what I was sure of was that there was a blazing heat inside my pussy that could only be quenched by constant, vigorous copulation.

Every day when I woke I looked at myself in the mirror to track the changes in my physical form. The pregnancy had changed my body in various ways. I saw my nipples darken to a chocolate hue and enlarge, sticking out a few inches from my massive chest. My breasts, already a very full F-cup, grew into G-cups that dominated my entire torso. They were big and yet amazingly despite my being with child still firm (more of Morgan’s influence?) hanging down like ripe grapefruits. My ass thickened and widened, and I found herself putting on more weight basically everywhere—but it was distributed so well that all that happened was that my already lush body now sported impossible curves.

And of course, my belly grew steadily larger each day. By the fourth month it had become a noticeable bulge, and by the fifth it had gotten big enough that I had to adjust the way I walked, leaning slightly backwards to compensate for the extra weight in front. Which had the side effect of thrusting my gigantic chest out, so that anyone who passed me noticed it, and then they got horny enough to ask me to...stupid sex slave body.

I found myself having to be careful with how I had sex. (mustn’t hurt the baby!) No more missionary after the first few months, but I could go on top no problem. Doggy-style was still in the picture. I was grateful in a way that my partners were so strong that they could lift me up to impale her on their rigid cocks without worrying about dropping her. We found the range of our positions restricted, but it’s amazing what an active imagination and libido can do.

As the months passed I got steadily bigger and bigger. I felt like a beached whale, barely able to make it from one place to another without pausing to rest. Among the other changes to my body, I began to leak milk from my breasts, which freaked me out a little but eventually became something of a turn-on...why? Because no one had told me that expelling milk would feel so good, or that that having someone nurse from them would make me cum like a rocket. My favorite position became having someone thrust into me from behind while two others sucked at my leaking nipples. Then they would lower me carefully to the ground and take turns having their way with me. Maybe this pregnancy thing wasn’t so bad after all...

I must say that the residents actually took very good care of me. From massaging my swollen feet (ok, that was something I didn’t like about being knocked up...it was painful!) to making sure I had the very best food to eat, they spared no expense in making sure mother and child were ok. I wouldn’t say they waited on me hand and foot (that was supposed to be my job, at least until I was in the family way) but they helped a great deal.

One day they took me out of the open sea on one of the speedboats they had moored at their makeshift dock. It was better than anything I could have afforded in my other life, and being on the waves again, cutting through the ocean with the blue skies above and gulls flying all around us...it was a welcome change from my fuck-filled existence and my big belly. It even made me a little nostalgic.

Of course it ended with sex—like so many other things here did. After a relaxing day spent fishing and gazing at the waves, the three men who were with me ran their hot hands over my overdeveloped body and massaged my baby bump until I was so horny I would do anything they wanted—which was to take me on the prow of the boat one by one. Still, being fucked out in the open water by a well-hung stud, huge tits leaking milk while watching the most beautiful sunset ever—I couldn’t believe I was saying this, but there were worse fates.

Time passed. Even when I grew bigger and bigger it seemed like my libido had not subsided—if anything, I had gotten randier. And my rotund form didn’t seem to bother the men of the island either...it made them all the more ardent, and they would run their hands over my tummy and husk into my ear before finally thrusting their thick rods into me. Maybe it was this pregnancy glow thing that people always talked about that made me so irresistible...but my daily look into the mirror only revealed the image of a huge-titted slut with a belly to match her bursting boobs.

By the seventh month I had gotten kind of used to things...or as used to as I could possibly be, given my situation. I was still a bit unsteady on my feet some days, and walking was still quite a chore, but I was thankful that at least I had no morning sickness to contend with. And every man on the island was extra-specially nice to me, even when they were commanding me to get down on my knees or plowing my sopping snatch with their huge rods.

This was not how I thought I would end up. But the reality of my situation was stared back at me from the mirror every day. I ran my hands almost incredulously over my pregnant belly. Eight months on and she sometimes could still barely believe that I was knocked up—not only that but almost due. I was nothing more than a slut now...a willing, busty, tanned and very pregnant slut, who could do little more than lie on her back and moan in helpless pleasure as she was taken roughly.

I touched my swollen belly, marveling not for the first time at how smooth it felt. So big and round and shiny in the afternoon sun. I closed my eyes and thought of the entire chain of events that had brought me here...trying to steal Morgan’s boat, then being transformed, then trying to run away and being transformed again, then finally ending up on the island. It had been a long ride, but I didn’t think it was over yet by any means.

Then I went out to find another man to fuck.

* * *

Eight and a half months passed in a flash.

Another day dawned on Dark Isle, and I dragged my weary body (three orgies in a day tires a girl out, especially a pregnant one...) out of bed to look at myself. I sighed at my reflection. I was a far cry from the slim, white skinned girl I had been a scant few months before. Instead, I had breasts almost the size of watermelons (they had ballooned during the last trimester, to the delight of my many lovers) and a bulging stomach almost as big as a beach ball. Damn, I hope I wasn’t going to have twins...but the doctor had said it was just the one. Maybe it was water or something like that. I had no way of knowing and I didn’t really care.

I was due any day now. The witch doctor has the sense to not ask that I refrain from fucking (which would have been downright impossible) but had just cautioned me too take it easy. So it had been a lot of blowjobs and cowgirl positions, which did help take the edge of my horniness somewhat. I caressed my huge belly for what seemed the thousandth time since my pregnancy had started...it was real. It was going to happen. I was going to give birth and become a mother—me, Corr...I mean, Marissa, once the Pirate of Chrystal Bay, but now a mother-to-be.

A familiar twinge in my nether regions had me rubbing my thighs together in heated need. It had been more than two hours since my last fuck...maybe I could sneak out to the—but no, I was due for my appointment for my checkup.

I walked/waddled my way to the witch doctor’s hut and he beamed at the sight of me. Of all the men on the island he was the only one that I never had sex with, probably because he was just way too old. But he was always kind and gentle with me, which I appreciated greatly. It was kind of relief to at least have one person on the whole island who wasn’t trying to get into my pants.

He looked me over and nodded approvingly. “This will be a fine child. Healthy. Big. And the mother is looking good too. Perfect!”

I didn’t quite know what to do or say to that. I was...proud? I hadn’t asked to get pregnant...it just sort of happened. But I somehow had carried the child to term, and had some of the best sex of my life in the process.

I guess this might have been the last part of Morgan’s punishment for me. Become a breeding factory and pop out the little ones...and it would be good punishment too if only the sex wasn’t so damn good. Or maybe that was how she had intended it? I couldn’t quite fathom her devious mind and I wasn’t sure I wanted to.

The actual birth was a simple affair. I had been pretty worried about what might happen, and there were no books or tapes or anything on the island I could watch or read to allay my growing anxieties. The men were not much use...they were only interested in fucking me (typical!) and didn’t have a lot of emotional support to offer. But it was over in an hour or so...just like taking an extended poop. I had heard horror stories about labor pains and contractions back when I was just a normal mind controlling pirate, but none of that bothered me when the time actually came. I supposed that she should be glad that Morgan’s transformation had made her hips so wide that my child (it was so strange to say that!) could just slide out.

I was back on my feet a week later. I didn’t know the first thing about taking care of a baby, but luckily it was whisked out of my care by midwives who had been shipped to the island for the express purposes of helping me give birth (which they didn’t even need to) and to grab the kid after it was all over. I didn’t feel particularly motherly, and I hadn’t really had (or wanted) a chance to bond with the baby, so it was with a sense of relief that I gave him (it was a boy!) up to the care of others who were much better suited to take care of my newborn.

Time continued to pass in the normal way. After the two weeks of prescribed rest that the witch doctor gave, I was back on my feet and sucking, fucking and blowing once more. Almost a year of the tropical sun had made my tan even darker, so that I began to look almost like the other natives. My breasts hadn’t shrunk at all after the birth (surprise, surprise) and the only physical change was that my darkened nipples stayed that way. Oh, and I continued to lactate...so much so that I had to have my overfull boobs nursed by eager men so that they wouldn’t get too big and cause me back pain. I wasn’t sure about the wisdom of having men get the milk that was supposed to be for the baby, but I wasn’t in any position to complain...and it wasn’t that I didn’t need my fair share of milk from another source either.

It was only a matter of time before I got pregnant again. Surprised? Don’t be. Like I said there was nothing else to do on the island. But this time I decided to just embrace it—and the amazing, mind-blowing sex that only seemed to get better as my belly filled and plumped out again. It wasn’t like I could run anywhere. I don’t know...I think it was the inevitability of my situation that helped me to accept the state I was in. If I was destined to be a pregnant, busty, horny slut, then I might as well enjoy myself being one.

And so as the months wore on I sucked cock eagerly and spread my legs (and ass) for whoever wanted me—which was everyone. I put on more weight everywhere so that while I wasn’t as slim as before, I was curvy in all the right places, and as my stomach (and breasts!) filled out again the men of the island couldn’t keep their hands off me. The witch doctor even had to warn them off from having too many orgies.

* * *

It was somewhere in the middle of my third pregnancy that Morgan showed up.

I wasn’t at all expecting her, and she had to turn up in the middle of me being reamed on all fours, whining and panting like a bitch in heat. When the door of the hut opened to reveal the architect of my misfortunes I let yet out a surprised yelp and tried to disengage, but the tall, dark native who was fucking me would have none of it. Instead of letting me go, he seized my wide hips with a grip of iron and intensified his thrusts so that I ended up cumming like a firehose (and I mean firehose...I was dripping something fierce back there)

I blushed scarlet as Morgan gave me a knowing grin and stared at me all through my orgasm. I was so embarrassed I could felt I could die...that is, if I wasn’t cumming my brains out instead though. The shame of having my most intimate moments paraded in front of my tormentor and the pleasure of being taken roughly at the same time both combined to produce a climax that exploded with the force of a volcano.

My lover had the decency to leave after that (after giving me a deep kiss and swat on the ass for good measure) and so after I had finished cleaning up the wet mess on the floor, I composed myself and waddled into a chair. I was about five months with child and I gotten a little more used to moving around with a baby bump this time, but it was still a challenge... especially with my legs weak from the afterglow.

Morgan took a seat as well and started first. “Looking good, Marissa. I see pregnancy agrees with you.”

“And whose fault is that?” Seeing her had brought back some of my old acerbic wit. I hadn’t had ALL my rebellion fucked out of me, just a good bit. Just because I had finally admitted that I liked it doesn’t mean that I couldn’t give back some of what was dished out.

The Original let out a sharp bark of hearty laughter.

“Good old Marissa! Still as caustic as ever, I see. It’s good to see that popping out two kids hasn’t made you any less spunky...well, all the spunk maybe gone in a different direction.” She grinned at her bad pun while I just rolled my eyes. (lame...so lame...) “But I’m not here to trade barbs with you, as fun as that would be. I’m here to make you an offer.”

“Oh yeah? And what kind of offer would that be?” I was skeptical, and it showed in my tone.

“We’re having a crisis of a sort back in Dark View. Too many parents want babies, but there aren’t enough to go around. Since you’ve proven yourself more than adept at getting knocked up and delivering healthy children, I was wondering if you might want to help us.”

“What’s it in for me?” I asked. Obvious enough question.

Morgan smiled in reply. “That’s my Marissa. Still as mercenary as ever, even when she’s sporting killer tits and bun in the oven. Tell you what. Deliver ten boys and girls and I’ll give you two out of these three back your name, your body or your powers back.”

My heart skipped a beat. I could...get my powers back? My old body? My old life? Well, then I could -

Morgan cut in before I could go any further. “This all assumes you don’t go back to your old pirate ways, of course. Then all bets are off, and I’ll have you with the biggest tits and ass this side of Darkview before you can say uncle.”

I kept on forgetting she could read minds! Still, I was intrigued.

“Do you mean it?” I asked.

“I always keep my word, and sentences can be commuted. You’ve been pretty good for the men here, if what they’re telling me is true. Maybe you deserve some time off for good behavior at least.”

I considered it for a moment. There wasn’t much to think about, actually. I never thought I’d say it, but I sort of liked life on the island. All I had to do was eat good food, bask in the men, then have sex with hunky men and have them massage my feet. Even the giving birth thing wasn’t that bad...the same wide hips that so enchanted my lovers also proved to be invaluable in near-painful childbirth. It was kind of like paradise in a way.

But...that wasn’t all there was to life. I missed my freedom. The open waters of the great blue sea, being able to walk into a store and buy something, heck, even listening to the radio. I couldn’t do any of that here, and that chafed at me more than I cared to admit.

I nodded. Maybe it WAS time to give back a little. This wasn’t the way that I had ever thought that I would ever be contributing to society, but hey, what the heck, it beat working in a soap kitchen or cutting coupons. Fucking for charity. Who would have thought.

Morgan stuck out a hand and I looked at it for a moment...a handshake? How delightfully old-school. But after another moment’s deliberation I clasped her hand and mine and the deal was sealed.

I wondered idly how big my breasts would be after 10 pregnancies. If they were G-cups now, they would be what...J? H? It didn’t even bear thinking about. I just hoped my back could take the strain. But Morgan would probably strengthen my muscles or something so it wouldn’t be too bad.

Two out of three...but which two? I did like my old name a lot better than my current one. There were benefits to this body, but then there was also the hassle of being horny all the damn time. I would most definitely want my powers back...but what good where they to me if I couldn’t get to use them? In any case, there was no rush to decide. Ten kids would take me some time to have, even if I did have twins or triplets.

It was going to be a long few years. But at least I’d enjoy them.

* * *