The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Chapter One

“Congratulation! You now are proud owner for a magnificus ‘CumBunny 3000’, SlaveMaster companies most excellent and advance cum slave always!”

Tom frowned. Jeez, $16,000 and they couldn’t afford an actual English translator? That’s not good.

He’d saved his pennies and even worked an extra job for Mr. Toolie, the lazy landlord of his apartment building, and now the hypno’ed cum slave was his! He’d waited, increasingly agitated, while the delivery guy hung about, shuffling the paperwork, humming and peering and prying, clearly looking for a free squeeze or lick or something.

“What model is your CumBunny? What colour hair did you choose? How big are her tits? Are they pointy? Did you order the ‘Cums-Like-a-Rocket’ option?”

Tom had finally wrestled the paperwork from him and signed it, then stood and glared until the delivery guy got the message.

Shithead! Tom thought, as he watched the guy leave, rolling his little cart behind him. Wanker.

As soon as the door closed he ripped the front of the packaging open like a little kid at Christmas, arms flying, until... there she was, standing calmly, breathing softly, and with a fine sheen of perspiration glowing on her pale skin. She was marvelous—a wet dream in packing peanuts.

Little bits of styrofoam marred the brand-new perfection of her wonderful, strawberries-and-cream complexion. He moved closer, smelling her clean fragrance, delicately picking at the bits of packing, polishing her, and making her perfect in every way. My CumBunny! Mine! He was in a state of bliss, unbearably aroused, gazing at her naked and impossible perfection.

Tom snapped out of his reverie, and noticed again his tortured boner demanding attention. Shit, he was horny! His balls actually felt blue now, and really ached; his cock had been screaming at him since he’d heard the “your delivery is scheduled for 4pm today” message on his phone this morning. When he heard it, he’d actually jumped with glee like a kid! He had then finished breakfast, called in sick to work, and pushed the sofa over into the corner of the den to make room for his new toy. Sitting on his couch, eating four yogurts, and watching but not-watching soap operas for three hours hadn’t even made a tiny dent in his fantasies, or, apparently, in the blood-flow to his crotch.

Now she was here! With a lecherous smile, he moved in closer to her, and slowly buried his face between her perfect breasts, breathing deeply, his hands up and stroking her soft red hair. This hair is going to look great with my cum in it!

He then stood on tiptoe, leaning up into the box, and forced his tongue into her soft, slightly open mouth. Sweet! God she’s sweet! The throbbing in his crotch intensified. He deepened his kiss for a moment, pressing his lips into hers, tongue exploring her warm mouth and tongue, then stepped back and gazed.

God, look at her! She’s a fucking Dream Cunt! Perfect! He gazed at her perfect proportions, then frowned. Hmmm... Is she really a C? He reached up and cupped her soft breasts in both hands. Seems good, but... Hmmm... Tom went into the kitchen and pawed through the tools drawer. Ah, tape measure. Those bastards better not have cheated me.

Back in the den, he pushed and shoved the end of the tape measure behind her back and around the CumBunny’s chest, roughly scraping a nipple, which promptly stood up hard. Shit! Look at that! He pulled the tape up tight, and peered closely at the results. Yep, 37 goddamn fuckable inches! Not too big, not too small. Perfect! Tom’s face got dreamy, thinking of the many times he’d be fucking those tits while twisting her nice, pointy nipples and making her moan for him. Shit, my pants are tight! I need a fuck, and soon...

Further aroused, he roughly backed the crate up hard against the wall, stood back, and allowed his CumBunny room for a grand entrance. She just stood there. He took her hand and pulled a bit. Nothing. Clearly, she needed “booting up” or something. Tom began to poke at the packing material in the crate. There, at her feet in a plastic bag, was the “CumBunny User Manual for models: 3000, 3000-ext, 3000-rocket, 3010-pro.”

Shit, look at the size of that fucking manual... Tom never had any patience with manuals, and this one was huge. All right, okay, okay. Shit. Let’s do this. He picked up and hefted the thick manual in his hands, frowning. Then noticing that the manual was actually printed and bound in real paper—you didn’t often see real paper anymore—Tom grinned and felt suddenly special, like he’d finally “arrived.”

Goddamn right! For 16k it ought to have gold leaf on it! Anyway, it was clear Tom WAS going to have fun with his new toy, his CumBunny. Showing her off to his jealous friends would be even better. Smiling, he knew that Marcus, the married lech down the hall, would be insanely jealous when the sizzling CumBunny followed Tom lovingly out to the pool, topless! That frigid bitch-wife will be positively fuming! Hah! Cunt!

Tom had looked for months before moving in, making sure he’d found an apartment building with a “Topless Allowed” swimming pool policy. And, not surprisingly, the Frigid Bitch had been the only one to complain about his constant oogling of the girls at the pool. Hah! Jealous bitch. She’d never go topless with those udders she calls tits! Udders! Hah! Tom smirked in contempt.

Tom’s happy revenge fantasy crashed suddenly and sourly when the CumBunny started beeping. Well, not beeping, actually. The CumBunny was speaking “Beep... Beep... Beep...” in English! He stared at her, incredulous. Then he got angry.

Fucking A’! What now? Tom really hated error messages which only beeped. It was his pet peeve. His Windows 27 optical implant did the same fucking thing. Beeping inside your eye was the height of Microsoft stupidity. You never had a clue what was actually wrong! And worse, people still stared at you when your head started beeping.

“Goddamn Windows fuckheads!”

Seriously upset and still frowning, Tom hefted the manual and skipped to the “Quick Start—Troubleshooting” section. Even the “quick” start was over 100 pages long. Shit! On the first page was: “Warning: You CumBunny is live girl, capturing in classic city of Belgrade, but training her under Minsk Cyborg Resort.” The page went on to say, sort of, that his CumBunny needed to be treated with care, like a real girl, and should be put on her “wash cycle” after every, well, every “use”, in order to keep her “fine finish” in good condition.

Fine finish? Tom gazed at the trollop standing before him. Did they mean the shipping gloss, or something else? His mind wandered lower... His cock was throbbing like a jack-hammer now, his balls were actually complaining in English, and he suddenly had only one totally overwhelming desire...

Tom stood up straight, glared at her and commanded “CumBunny, obey me, you cunt!”

The CumBunny just stood there, impassive.

Wait. Her “beeping” had stopped. Was that progress of some sort? Or more trouble? He hadn’t a clue.

“Shit, shit, shit!” he moaned.

Then he stared. The CumBunny’s eyes had blinked!

Oh, my god! She was responding! His boner throbbed and ached as he now desperately thumbed the user manual.

He suddenly pounded his fists onto the manual. And again, groaning with desire and frustration.

“Where’s the God Damned, Fuck-Me-Now-My-Balls-Hurt command!” echoed through the apartment. Tom was really worked up now, practically screaming to himself, with his throat dry and his blue balls urgently discussing a coup d’etat.

“Aaagghh!” he finally moaned at her. His balls had won, and were cheering gleefully. He threw down the heavy manual, stripped off his pants, climbed up into the crate, and began desperately thrusting his aching cock between the CumBunny’s legs, though not quite docking successfully. “Unh, unh, unhhh!”

Tom thrust harder and harder, but the CumBunny just stood there, impassively. But it made no difference, Tom came anyway while groaning “Fuck, fuuuck, fuuuuuuuuck!” One final, clumsy and angry thrust, and Tom just lay against her, cursing.

Finally, he calmed himself and stood back, still panting, thinking. He noticed in passing that the CumBunny’s legs were now living up to their name.

Suddenly, fearfully, Tom spun towards the windows of his ground-floor apartment. The blinds were closed. Shit! Thank god! Abruptly un-boner’ed, he backed away from the CumBunny and dropped heavily onto the sofa, glaring at her angrily.

“Shit... Fucking user manual...”

Tom resigned himself to further study.