The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“You wouldn’t believe how hot and sexy she is,” Tom was telling the group of six or seven men gathered around the copy room door. “She did me so hard last night it crashed my implant!”

Appreciative noises ran through the group, which suddenly muted as Mindy, the office slut (or so it was rumoured) walked up. “Hey, fellas, wha’cha talking about? Sex?”

George “Handsome George” Scott sniffed. He disapproved of the robo-slave trade, even if he was titillated by Tom’s new exploits. “As usual, Mindy. What are men always talking about? Sex or sports, take your pick.”

“Well, sports you can keep. What’s up Tom? You look distinctly wiped out today. You were off sick yesterday, weren’t you?”

“Well... Actually...” All the men enjoyed Mindy, slut or not, because she clearly got aroused from their provocations and stories, all told with eyes firmly glued to her older, but still-shapely body. No one knew her real age, but most guessed her to be pushing forty. Tom had made a pass, and a good one, at her during the Christmas Party last year, but old Mr. Jenkins had stepped in just before he could close the deal. “This is an office party, Hoserman, not a bordello. Now back off and behave.”

Tom took the lead, “Mindy, yesterday I got a new CumBunny 3000. What do you think?” He prompted, watching her face for a reaction. “She’s totally gorgeous, perfect body, and tighter nipples than you could imagine.” All eyes instantly locked onto the nipples clearly visible under Mindy’s blouse. She never wore a bra, and when Mr. Jenkins had said something last year, she had hinted at a sexual harassment lawsuit. Now, she wore whatever teasing outfit she damn well pleased, and Mr. Jenkins studiously kept his mouth shut.

“Oh, yum! A CumBunny! They’re soooo hot. I’d love to own one, or maybe...” She smiled provocatively and left the sentence unfinished. Tom took her offer and said, “...Be one?”

Mindy’s eyes sparkled as she smiled broadly at the group of men, and they could see the flush on her neck and chest. She knew exactly how many boners were rising at this point in the group (all of them) and she loved it. “Well... Maybe,” she hinted, and turned and sashayed off, exaggerating for her captivated audience.

Tom broke the silence, “Nothing wrong with her at all...” They nodded and were quiet for a moment, appreciating a woman who really knew how to strut her stuff, and all wishing their own wives or girlfriends were as sexy as Mindy.

Tom knew differently though. “My CumBunny, gentlemen, also gave me a tune-up and a show this morning, DURING breakfast!” That got their attention, and heads swiveled back to Tom.

Handsome George tutted, “How could you afford $120K for a CumBunny, Tom? You make less than any of us, and I know we can’t afford one.”

Inwardly, Tom was startled. What the fuck? $120,000! No way! I only spent $16K, plus $450 for shipping. But Tom covered without missing a beat, “Well, fellas, I had a small legacy left from my uncle’s estate. You remember, don’t you, Harry?”

He’d told the now-portly Harry a few years back that his rich uncle had died and left him some money, but that had never really materialized. Tom did get some, but after taxes and such, he’d only cleared about $8,000, which he had wisely saved for his CumBunny.

But still, Tom was worried. So, why’d mine only cost $16K? Must be something wrong with her... Fuck!

The men in the group were awed by Tom’s description of $120K as a “small” legacy. Their esteem for Tom went up, while Tom’s own confidence plummeted. He did his best to hide his worries.

Handsome George was speaking again, “...and you’ve got to clothe and feed her, and doctors’ bills, and liability insurance. It all adds up. And besides, it’s morally wrong to enslave a human being, I don’t care how fucked up the ex-Russian Satellite Federation is these days.”

Tom wasn’t really paying attention, he was brooding. Back at his desk, he re-visited the website where he had found his CumBunny for sale. “The Cheapest can be the Best!” the heading ran. He read through the familiar literature, looking for clues that might have escaped his attention many months ago.

“How do we provide such Cost Effective CumBunnies? Easy: Many young, vulnerable girls do not have the rich families needed to secure release from the illegal slavers in Eastern Europe. As such, SlaveMaster can buy in bulk, and keep costs low by training these beautiful girls in the Minsk Cyborg Resort. Click here for a full range of Holo-videos NOW!”

Ah, that was it. He had been lucky enough to stumble onto a cut-rate CumBunny company which took advantage of the “disadvantaged.” All right!

Tom felt a bit better now, but resolved to check out the crate and manual more carefully, in case there were some nasty surprises waiting for him at home...

Meanwhile, across town, Tom’s CumBunny was finishing up most of her shopping.

“Oh, miss! Miss?” The CumBunny turned, a bit stiffly as Tom had programmed, and answered the young woman, “Yes?”

“You do know that those chocolate bars are two for the price of one?”

The CumBunny looked at the Swiss Chocolate bar in her bag of groceries, then back up at the girl, “No. I did not know that, Ma’am.”

Swiss Chocolate, indeed any chocolate, was a luxury now. During the 4th Depression a fungus had run wild around the world, and killed all the cocoa plants. There were still a few kept in isolation, and there were seed banks, but the spores of the fungus were still circulating in the atmosphere, and it was estimated that another fifty years or so would have to pass before cocoa could be cultivated again.

The girl offered the CumBunny the extra bar, while noticing the name stitched into the purple jumpsuit—“CumBunny 3000” it said. When she saw it, her eyes widened in fear, then in guarded curiosity. She’d heard the news, and the lunch-room gossip, and even some rumours that girls were being taken in America these days. She shivered to herself. But after a moment, she couldn’t help but ask, “Say, are you a real CumBunny?”

The CumBunny smiled and answered, “Yes, Ma’am. I was imprinted on my new owner only yesterday. He’s dreamy!” with a faraway look in her eyes.

The salesgirl shivered again, not quite sure about her feelings. “Um... Well, uh, have a nice day then, or, I mean, umm...” at that point, the girl went quiet, not really sure what to say.

The CumBunny waited for her to continue, and when she didn’t, turned and left the store. Smiling.

It only took about ten minutes for the CumBunny to walk back to Tom’s apartment. She entered and went into the kitchen, turned on the radio and put away the groceries. Her own sense of time agreed with the clock on the wall, Tom’s grandmother’s antique, which indicated 5:20pm. An old song, “Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps” was playing on the radio. It was the Mari Wilson version, her favourite, and the CumBunny suddenly sang along out loud, a big smile in her eyes.

She sat down smiling at the table, looking around at the spotless kitchen. She took one of the chocolate bars, unwrapped it, and began to nibble at the rich, dark indulgence. It was so good, melting slowly in her mouth, the flavour and texture... She moaned quietly. It had been so long since she’d had any chocolate. She finished about half the bar, then took it and the other bar, and went to the utility cupboard.

A quick inspection revealed a corner with skis, old and gathering dust, and clearly forgotten by Tom. She carefully stashed the chocolate bars down behind the skis, where they couldn’t be seen. Then she went out to the den, and began to dismantle her crate. Tom had instructed her to get rid of it, but to save anything useful. She would.

As the crate came apart, the CumBunny took the little packet of pills from the hidden compartment, and tucked them into her jumper pocket. She finished disassembling the crate, taking her sleeping mat, the user manual, an extra jumpsuit—baby blue—and a small pillow and setting them aside. She took the pills, all but one, and tucked them away with the chocolate.

The manual she put up onto the top shelf of Tom’s bookcase. If she was lucky, Tom wouldn’t refer to it any more—not that he’d glanced at more than a few of the pages anyway, and certainly not the dangerous ones. The sleeping mat went to the foot of Tom’s bed, the extra jumpsuit she folded neatly onto the head of the mat, and the soft little pillow went on top of it.

She stepped back and looked at the mat, and then around the room. Everything was immaculate. Tom would be delighted at the sterling job she’d done on his, quite honestly, totally filthy apartment. Bachelors! The same today as they ever were. Useless twits!

Tom usually picked things up and put them away, and ran the vacuum cleaner occasionally, but never actually cleaned anything very well.

The CumBunny walked into the bathroom and inspected her perfect body in the mirror. Yes, I need a long, hot bath, and maybe... She turned on the taps and adjusted the temperature, and sat idly by, humming to herself, while the tub filled. She breathed deeply, the warm, steamy air relaxing her. When the tub was full, she shrugged off her jumpsuit, then her panties—nice to have panties for a change—and stepped slowly into the hot tub, sighing as her body protested the heat briefly.

She lay back, dreaming and going over the last four months of her life. The difficult training sessions, the restricted diet, the hypnotic instructions, the brutal robo-programming helmets which left her feeling dazed and dangerously submissive for hours afterwards. Yes, it had been hard, but there had been some perks as well. She smiled. God, he was gorgeous! Vladimir had been her male sexual instructor. He was slavicly handsome, with pale blond hair and a physique to die for. She’d often watched him in the gym during her rest periods. He would spent two hours in the gym every day, even Sundays. And he was smart, very, very smart! As one of the founders of the company, he was getting very rich, very quietly.

The CumBunny reached down between her legs, thinking of Vladimir - Vlad the Impaler, as all the girls called him—and slowly stroked her shaven mons. He certainly was The Impaler! Oh god! She could feel herself getting wet, and arched her back a little to better finger herself. This wasn’t like the brutal show she put on for Tom this morning, this was loving herself. She could almost feel Vlad’s rock hard cock, pushing her open, teasing her. She moaned out loud now - there was no one to hear. The hot water and her own heat were making her flush from head to toe, and she began to breathe more deeply, urgently.

She reached around and got the large bar of soap, and pulled it under the water and down to her slit. Her body shivered as the hard bar pressed into her. She began to stroke it, up and down, side to side, then around and around, pressing harder and harder. Oh, fuck, I need more...

She turned in the tub, spotting two hairbrushes near the mirror - Perfect—as she eyed the handles, one big, one small. They were quickly in her hands, and she settled back into the steaming luxury. She again found a comfortable position, and slowly, oh so slowly, simultaneously inserted the handles into her aching pussy and tight little ass. “OHHHhhhh mmmmmm, ah, yesssss.” She held still for a moment, savouring the feel of the rigid plastic fuck-sticks in her tingling holes.

Then slowly, without moving the handle in her cunt, began to twist the smaller brush handle around and around in her tight ass. Probably just the size of Tom’s cock! She laughed, and then was charitable. Actually, he’s not so bad... But needs a brain-transplant! Ha! She laughed again, this time louder.

Little stabbing thrusts into her ass soon joined the twisting motion, and her moans increased in their urgency. The CumBunny was a professional at sex, especially on herself. When her rhythm was good, she then started on the main event. Her pussy clenched the large brush handle in anticipation, and she began to crank the handle around and around. Oh god, I’m so wet... Ohhhh yesss... Soooo ahhhh goooood ummmm!

Now her intensity became startling. An observer would have looked on in awe as the CumBunny thoroughly and completely raped herself. Yes, that was the only word for what she was doing. Her moans became screams, and her body thrashed in the warm water. She began to dream of big hard cocks, lots of them, all around her, wanting her, taking her...

“Vlad, you monster! Fuck Me! Ohhhhh...” she shouted as she came, groaning and thrusting her hips, both brush handles buried to the hilt and gripped tightly in her fists. She came hard, mindless of the water sloshing out of the tub as her body spasmed again and again. “AAhhhh god oohhhh gaaahhhhhddd...”

After a few minutes, a lecherous smile appeared on the CumBunny’s face. She could still hear Vlad’s heavily accented voice, “Sheryl, my hot little SlutBunny, you are most, most wonderful. I love way your eyes, they roll way up into head when you cumming so hard on me.” She shivered in delight. Too bad she’d never see, much less fuck, her Vlad again. What a trainer! What a man! That life would soon be behind her, but only if she were very, very careful...

Seven o’clock rolled around. The apartment was clean, the crate gone, her sleeping area pristine at the foot of Tom’s bed. Anything else?

“No. Everything is fine, just calm yourself,” the CumBunny said, and almost in reply, the apartment door swung open. Tom stood and commanded her, “Okay, FuckBunny, come greet your Master.”

She slinked sexily over to Tom, took his hand and led him into the apartment. She relieved him of his briefcase, then leaned up and pressed her lips against his. Her mouth opened, and her tongue brushed his lips teasingly, then entered his mouth. Tom needed no further provocation. He wrapped his arms around his lovely slave, squeezed her tight, and then bit her tongue, hard.

The CumBunny jumped, but continued to explore his mouth. The evil smile on Tom’s face broadened as he opened his mouth and said, “Go on then, brush my teeth, my CumSlut!” then laughed and pulled away from the CumBunny, who demurely stepped back and stood with her arms crossed behind her naked body, legs slightly spread to show her pussy, just as she’d been programmed.

“Well, CumCunt 3000! Did you do everything I set for you today?” His eyes swept the den—Fuck, it’s like new!. In fact, the apartment was actually cleaner now that the day he’d moved in, thanks to the non-efforts of the lazy Mr. Toolie. He walked into the bedroom, bathroom, small office and then the kitchen.

“Fuck, CumBunny, you’re a real pro!” This is going to be fantastic! Never another fucking nasty job for me anymore! He eyed his beautiful CumBunny. “Okay, cunt, let’s see what you can do in the kitchen.”

He kicked off his shoes and dropped heavily onto the sofa. Shit, I’m tired. I didn’t get nearly enough sleep last night. But his balls twitched anyway, demanding a re-match.

You’re going to fucking kill me, you goddamn perverts! Tom grinned broadly and looked at his crotch. He stretched and arched his back, watching the CumBunny puttering about the kitchen. I’ll get her to do one of those massages again. Yeah, god, that’ll be fantastic!

Tom’s life stretched out before him now. Perfect. Never another lick of housework, or shopping, or smart-assed girlfriends. I won’t even bother to date anymore! No fucking candlelit dinners, no whining for longer sex, no expensive flowers or gifts, no more “we have to talk” talks! It was going to be great for Tom. And in ten years or so, he’d trade this one in for a shiny new model. Hey, so much better than a ball and chain!

Tom wandered over to the perfect place-setting on the dining table, which had been pulled out from the wall and positioned exactly as it should be. He looked down and—Holy Fuck! She’s got her little mat and bowls ON THE FLOOR! Tom couldn’t believe it. She really was a complete slave, with her feeding bowls on the floor, next to his chair. He felt like a king—no, he felt like a god! He Owned another human being; he Was a god!

His fantasy was pleasantly interrupted as he noticed the CumBunny standing patiently, breathing softly and waiting for him to notice her. She was holding a glass of wine, and peering at him with adoration in her eyes. Tom turned to her, and reached out and took the glass. The CumBunny then turned and pulled out his chair for him! All right! The hits just keep on coming!

Tom settled into the chair, and she began serving him. As you might expect, her serving skills were perfect. She would have graced even the fanciest restaurants in the city. The steaks were perfect, the baked potato was creamy and seasoned just right, and the strawberry ice cream was delicious. As Tom stretched and burped at the end of the meal, he looked down at the CumBunny, on the floor by his feet, just finishing her gruel of warm oatmeal and raisins. She had demolished the side of mixed bean salad first. He smiled down at her. She was totally the answer to all his prayers.

Then he frowned. Why was his treasure so cheap? What could possibly be wrong with her? Could he ever be so lucky as this? But he quickly quashed his doubts... Well, the law of averages finally pays off for me, for a change... Hey, hey!

Tom noticed the CumBunny rising to her knees and leaning towards him. She then lay her head in his lap, and breathed deeply near his crotch, clearly inhaling his scent. A soft moan passed her lips. Fuckety, fuck! Hot Damn! Tom’s cock was rigid in moments.

He stood and admired the dreamy look on the CumBunny’s face. I did that! Me!

“Okay, slut. We’re going to do a re-play of last night, do you remember that in your shiny red noggin’?”

“Oh, yes, Studly Master. Massage you, back and front, non-sexual, followed by your shower, and then 70% setting for sexual program number six: Rockin’ and Ridin’, Twist and Shout!” Only 70%? Fuckin’ Hell! ‘Twist and Shout’ could kill me if I’m not careful. Hah! What a way to die!

Tom smiled to himself, then frowned at her. “Okay, but this time not so rough. Use 60% tonight, okay. You crashed my eyeball last night you stupid bimbo! You understand? You blinded your Master, you cunt! Be more careful!” The CumBunny seemed to yearn for this abuse, and began to rub her thighs together and hummed in arousal.

Shit! She is good. I’ll have to admit that. Maybe a crashed eyeball is worth it. Hah!

Tom felt really good now, and the fine meal, three glasses of wine and the delicate fragrance of the CumBunny were making him delightfully sleepy. If he’d been listening, he would have noticed his balls shouting at him to wake up, wake up—the selfish bastards.

He yawned and shook his head to clear it. “Okay, follow me CumBunny. Yes, you are a slut, a cheap whore, a robo-cunt, a fuck-toy, my very own cum slave, hole for my hot tool, hah! ...” He continued with the sexual abuse, knowing he was stoking her fires intensely, as he walked into the bedroom. Sure enough, the CumBunny followed, trying to slink sexily but clearly so aroused now she was having trouble walking.

Tom stripped and lay on the floor after the CumBunny had retrieved the oil and laid out his towel.

“Ahhhh, this is going to be good. Give me the works again, my CumSlut.”

She straddled him, turning on her juices again, and sliding herself liquidly up and down on his butt a few times. He moaned along with her.

Within ten minutes, Tom was out cold, and had begun to snore lightly. The CumBunny continued to work on his body, very professionally, but noted the deeply drugged breathing patterns. She’d put a whole pill in his meal tonight, more than the half pill she’d put in his toothpaste last night. He’d be out like a light until she was ready.

Okay, douchebag. Now we get down to some serious work...