The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“So what’s it like?” Ruth asked excitedly. “Being her doll?”

Something deep inside Alice clenched. It was just so wrong that her sister was asking that question.

That made it so hot.

“It’s amazing,” her other sister, Nichole replied eagerly. There was a gleam in her eyes. Happy and content. But there was something distant about them as well. “It feels so good to do what she wants. It feels so right. To be owned. Just, God, it’s so, so, Heaven. Such a turn on. All the time. She just tells me what to wear and that’s what I am.”

The family was gathered around the dining room table, eating the meal their mother, Elaine, had spent hours preparing. It was the first time Nichole had been back home since she’d moved in with Angela. To be one of her dolls.

Owned.

Elaine had even taken the day off work. “It has to be just right,” she’d said, as she’d fussed around the kitchen.

It was always about Nichole.

Even now.

It wasn’t just Alice and her family gathered for the meal. The sisters’ girlfriends were there as well. Sandra and Lisa.

And Clara.

Alice snuck a glance at the tall, slim, brunette, one of Clara’s hands laid possessively over Nichole’s. The woman was all icy beauty, bobbed haircut and makeup in stark greys and electric blues. Such a contrast to Nichole’s tumbling blonde locks and innocent charm. “You’re her doll as well, right?” Alice asked.

Alice knew the answer to that question. Angela had even let her play with Clara. But there was something about the woman’s attitude that made Alice want to rub it in.

Clara glared back at her. “Yeah? So?”

“Nothing,” Alice smiled innocently. But it was Clara who looked away first.

Ruth wasn’t paying any attention to the exchange between Alice and Clara. “You’re being her doll now, right?” she asked her elder sister.

Nichole smiled, radiating happiness. And, unless Alice was mistaken, more than little arousal. “Yes. I always am. She put me in the sort of clothes I used to wear. So tonight I’m her Nichole Stevens doll. That’s what she told me to be.”

Alice wondered what that meant. Nichole was being, well, Nichole. More or less. But she wasn’t Nichole. Not anymore. She was Nichole-doll. Was Nichole still her sister? She had to be. She couldn’t just be a pretty toy pretending to be her sister.

The distinction didn’t appear to bother Ruth. “Oh God, I can’t wait,” the middle of the three sisters sighed. “Do you think she’ll put me and Lisa in cases in the same room? Like you and Clara? When we’re her dolls?”

“Can you ask her for us?” Ruth’s girlfriend, Lisa, chimed in, the petite brunette squeezing Ruth’s hand. “That would be so cool. Then she could play with us together.” Ruth and Lisa turned to each other. “She could have us dressed up as whatever she wants. Maybe as a lady and her servant. Maybe you could be the lady, Ruth. God, you’d look so good. All dressed up. For her.”

“Maybe I’d want to be the servant,” Ruth smiled slyly. “Then I could serve you.”

“You’ll both be serving her,” Clara’s announcement was curt, an annoyed look on the brunette’s face. “You’ll be her dolls.”

“Right,” Ruth agreed, Lisa simply nodding, both girls looking suitably abashed. “God, I can’t wait.”

“What did you mean,” Alice asked, trying to ignore the sappy looks on Ruth’s and Lisa’s faces, “you’re her Nichole Stevens doll?”

Nichole wrapped her fingers gently around Alice’s nearest hand. “I’m still your sister, if that’s what you mean. I still love you all. At least when I’m Nichole Stevens. I’m me. I like my sappy YA romances and my weird YouTube videos and binging on streaming. And I still think the animes you two watch are weird.” An innocent smile played across Nichole’s lips. “But I’m her doll. I want to be her doll. I think all that because she told me to be Nichole Stevens and that’s what Nichole Stevens thinks. I’m what she wants me to be. She owns me. Every part of me. Oh God, it’s just so good being owned.”

Alice could feel the shiver that shot through her sister through the contact of their hands. She didn’t need the flush in Nichole’s cheeks to tell her just how turned on her sister was. Alice wanted to look away. Didn’t want to think about what Nichole was saying. Try as she might she couldn’t stop herself.

“I’ll be whatever she wants me to be. Whatever she dresses me up as. Even now, I’m hers. My owner’s toy. Right to the core of my being. Her doll. It’s what I want to be. I’ll do whatever she wants. I just know that. It’s what I am. All the time. Hers. Hers to play with. It turns me on, so much, knowing that. So right now I’m Nichole Stevens, not because it’s who I am, but because it’s who she wants me to be.”

Alice didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t even sure who she was looking at. What she was looking at.

Something wrong, dear? Angela enquired, her voice sparkling with amusement. It’s what you’re doing to your toys.

Alice didn’t want to think about that. What she was doing to Mia. To Melanie. To Dawn. What Sandra was doing to Sophie and Miss Lucas. Turning them into exactly the same thing as Nichole was. Something owned.

But it was so hot. The thought of what she could with her toys. Seeing them on their knees. Dressing them up. It was what Angela could do with Nichole. With all her other dolls. What Alice could do with her dolls. Put Dawn in a nurse’s uniform. Or Mia in a bikini. Or Melanie in some skimpy popstar outfit. Anything. They’d be what she told them to be. Her toys. To play with. Alice’s nipples were so hard, pressing against her bra. She squirmed in her seat, thighs rubbing together, her pussy crying for attention.

Attention her toys could give her.

Attention Nichole could give her.

If Angela was happy to share her doll.

“I’m so proud of you,” Elaine beamed, her eyes fixed on Nichole. “Miss Henderson doesn’t take just anyone as her dolls. But she wants two of my daughters. Two.”

Alice felt like she was going to throw up. Her mother shouldn’t want that for Ruth and Nichole. Shouldn’t want two of her daughters turned into playthings.

Should I make your mother my doll as well? Angela laughed. Think of all the fun little games I could play with them all.

An image formed in Alice’s mind, of her sisters and mother, in clothes a century out of date, fine porcelain on the table in front of them, like dolls at a tea party. Just sitting there, poised, not moving, waiting to be told to crawl to their owner and worship her. Nichole and Ruth licking Angela’s feet while Alice’s mother buried her tongue in the woman’s pussy.

Alice was sure her pussy was leaking.

“She’s been so good to you, Nichole,” Alice’s mother continued excitedly. “Giving you a case of your own. Somewhere for her to just look at you. You are so pretty.” Some of the old resentment surfaced in Alice. It was always Nichole their mother put first. Even now. Even talking about her daughter as an object. A pretty object, just to be looked at.

Alice tried to ignore the hot pulse that shot through her at the thought. Her sister was, well, her sister. Smart and funny and gorgeous. Mouth-wateringly gorgeous. Alice trembled, remembering just how good it had been to ravish her sister. How good it was to wrap her lips around Nichole’s nipples and suck. To thrust her tongue deep inside Nichole’s centre and make her sister squirm. To have Nichole do that to her and cum, crying out her sister’s name.

Nichole wasn’t just a thing to be owned by someone else.

Alice wasn’t sure just which part of that thought she really objected to.

You want your own dolls, don’t you? Angela smirked.

Alice couldn’t deny the truth of that. She wanted them. She wanted them here, now. Have them do to her what she’d imagined her family doing to Angela. Maybe it would be Dawn and Melanie worshipping her feet while Mia pleasured her. She’d have them take turns. Dressed up however she wanted. Maybe short little dresses, like three friends going out to a club. All done up.

Pretty things for her to play with.

Her pussy was on fire.

But they’re not your dolls, not yet, Angela words were laced with mirth. Oh they’ll do what you say. For now. But they’re not really your dolls. Not right down inside. If you didn’t have them repeating those lines over and over they’d go back to who they were. You can make them yours forever. It’s what you want.

Alice heard a moan from beside her. Sandra. She could just sense the images in her girlfriend’s mind. Of the two redheads, Sophie and Miss Lucas. But the teacher was in a school uniform, short pleated skirt showing off her wonderfully slim thighs, enough buttons on the blouse undone and tie loose enough to show a hint of bra and Sophie was in a skirt suit and Miss Lucas was over Sophie’s lap and the girl was spanking the teacher and telling her to be a good student and Sandra was almost cumming.

You want it, Angela declared, half-mocking, half-insistent. You need it. Say it.

There were so many images in Alice’s mind. Of what she could do to her toys. When she really owned them. How happy they’d be.

Just like Nichole.

There was something wrong with the thought. Something Alice couldn’t place. It didn’t matter. Her breasts ached and her pussy was crying out and she needed this.

Needed her toys.

I want it, Alice admitted. God, I want it! It was all too much, she couldn’t fight the desires roiling in her mind, in her centre. She was squirming helplessly in her seat, need pulsing through her.

Well, Angela’s words were so full of satisfaction, prim and proper. Let’s go see how to make it happen.

Alice’s awareness dissolved, following Angela. Into Nichole’s mind, Sandra alongside her. Down, past the lights that were most of Nichole’s thoughts and memories. They went deeper, as deep as she’d been in Clara’s mind, that day at Miss Henderson’s estate.

Look, Miss Henderson said.

Alice did. She could see the lights here, few but so bright. She could sense Nichole’s thoughts. More than thoughts. Her sister’s being. Nichole was a doll. That’s what the lights meant. Below the level of thought. Nichole was something that needed to be owned. Needed to be played with. Needed to obey. Right at the core of her being that’s what Nichole was now. Like the need for food and shelter and company. But magnified, so many times. Primal urges Nichole couldn’t deny. Wouldn’t want to.

They were what she was.

It wasn’t just her sister’s mind, but her body as well. Nichole could simply be a doll. Not breathing, not moving, not changing.

Just a pretty thing to look at and play with.

Alice’s pussy was melting.

It’s not easy to do, Angela informed them, a thought from the woman demonstrating what was needed. How the lights needed shifting, changing. How they’d been moved to where they now were. But your toys are ready. Prepared. Just waiting to become dolls. Pretty, pretty, toys. You have to be sure. Once it’s done, it can’t be undone.

What? Sandra asked, surprised. It’s just moving the lights. Or whatever they actually are. Why can’t they be changed back?

Alice wanted to know too. For some reason she thought it was important. Something in her wanted to scream. Deny what Angela was saying. It had to be possible to change it back.

A shiver shot through her, her thoughts bathed in a blue light. Like her candle.

Something washed out of her.

All she had left was an intellectual curiosity about the question.

Hmm, Angela mused. How do I describe it? It’s like water. It runs one way. You can’t push water back up a hill. It just slips through your fingers and runs downhill again. Try, if you like.

Alice did. She gripped one of the lights. Tried to push it back to where she knew it had come from. But it slipped away, just as Angela had warned her.

You’re ready now. You know what to do. I can’t wait to see who you pick first. They’ll all make such pretty dolls. But it’s time to get back to your little soiree.

Alice blinked. She was back in her chair. Back in her body. Beside her Sandra shivered.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, their mother still extolling how kind Angela had been.

“And she’s given you a girlfriend as well,” Elaine beamed, still focussed on Nichole and Clara. “So how did you two meet? Oh, that’s silly of me,” the elder Stevens tutted. “She just put you together of course.”

“Sort of, I suppose,” Nichole frowned, just for a moment. “We met when I started my internship. We didn’t get on. Not at first.”

Clara rolled her eyes. “I thought she was an idiot.”

“And I thought you were a bitch,” Nichole shot back.

“I am a bitch,” Clara shrugged. “That’s what she wants me to be. Most of the time.”

Alice remembered Angela saying that Clara hadn’t always been that way. She tried to imagine what the woman had been, who she had been.

Before she’d become nothing more than a doll.

“Oh well, if that’s what she wants,” Elaine replied, just a sliver of doubt in Alice’s mother’s voice. “You do love her?”

“Oh yeah,” Clara grinned, before leaning over to kiss the top of Nichole’s head. “I love her. So much.” One hand gently stroked Nichole’s hair as Alice’s sister leaned against her girlfriend.

“But only because that’s what she told you to do.” Alice didn’t want to think about that. Being made to love someone. She was so glad that she’d found Sandra before Angela had entered their lives.

Hadn’t she?

Of course she had. She was so certain. The certainty had a colour.

Blue.

Alice didn’t worry about that.

“So?” Clara shot back. “It’s what she wants. That’s all that matters.”

Alice didn’t think that ‘she’ was her sister.

“Well, it really doesn’t matter how you fall in love,” their mother declared. “As long as you’re happy. You are happy Nichole, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am,” Nichole sighed and rolled her eyes. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“And you treat her properly?” Elaine asked, the question directed at Clara.

Alice could hear the faintest tinge of doubt in her mother’s voice. As if something about this whole situation wasn’t right. As if there was something wrong with what had happened to her daughter.

What could be wrong?

Clara didn’t show any doubts. “Of course I do. Miss Henderson wanted me to show you how I do. I do take care of your needs, don’t I sweetheart?”

Clara leaned over and kissed Nichole’s cheek, a delicate shiver running through Alice’s older sister as she moaned, “Oh, oh God, yes.”

Clara and Nichole rose from the table. For the moment Nichole just stood there. Alice could see a flush spreading through Nichole’s cheeks, her sister’s chest rising and falling as she took deep breaths.

Clara had disappeared to where they’d left their handbags. Alice wondered what the woman was about. Or even why they’d needed handbags.

Dolls should have accessories, Angela quipped.

Alice allowed that that was true, but even so her jaw dropped when Clara returned. The brunette was naked now, from the waist down.

Except for the strap-on she wore, the blue latex glistening with lube.

No-one said a word as Clara approached Nichole. With one hand in the middle of Nichole’s back Clara pushed Alice’s sister down until she was bent over the table.

Nichole’s eyelids were fluttering. Her lips quivered, hands clawing feebly at the tablecloth. She moaned, the sound something primal.

Alice barely noticed. Her eyes were focussed on that strap-on. It was so blue. So big. There was something familiar about that shade of blue.

Clara flipped up the skirt of Nichole’s dress. Pulled down Alice’s sister’s panties.

She can’t be, Alice thought, stunned. Not here. Not now. Not in front of our mother.

Elaine just sat there. Didn’t say a word as Clara gently stroked Nichole’s back, her arse.

Alice snuck a glance at her mother. Elaine’s eyes were wide.

Her cheeks were flushed.

Alice was sure her mother’s nipples were tenting her blouse. Was her mother not wearing a bra?

Another moan from Nichole dragged Alice’s attention back to her sister. Clara’s fingers were, …, somewhere. Alice didn’t want to think where. Couldn’t stop herself.

Wherever Clara’s fingers were, whatever they were doing, it was so hot.

“Please,” Nichole moaned. The word was never going to be followed by ‘stop’.

“You want it, don’t you?” Clara sneered. “You want me to fuck you. In front of your family. In front of your mother.”

“God, yes,” Nichole begged, trying to shift her body back towards Clara. “Please.”

One of Clara’s hands held her in place.

Something about this was so wrong, but Alice couldn’t look away. Her sister was so gorgeous. And to see her lying there, half-naked, pleading for it.

Like a good little toy.

Alice had to bite her lip to stop from crying out.

Nichole’s back arched, Alice’s sister crying out wordlessly as Clara’s hips thrust forward.

“Oh God, mum,” Nichole panted. “She’s fucking my arse. She’s fucking it so good. God, I’m so full. It feels so good.” Nichole writhed on the dinner table as Clara pounded into her, the brunette falling into a rhythm. “God, I wish she could do this all the time. I’ve got another dildo in my pussy. Miss Henderson wanted me to be full when I came home. Wanted me so turned on.”

“I’m so happy for you, dear,” their mother beamed, that flush filling her cheeks. “Clara does seem very good at taking care of you.”

“God, yes,” Nichole cried. “Oh God. I’m going to cum. I’m going to cum from my girlfriend fucking my arse.” Nichole cried out again, an orgasm visibly ripping through her.

Clara didn’t stop.

“That’s so hot!” Ruth cried. “God, Lisa, I wish you could fuck my arse!”

“Well,” Lisa smiled shyly. “She did tell me to bring something tonight.”

“Oh God, really?” Ruth exclaimed, her eyes growing wide in delight. Alice’s sister shot out of her chair, bent over the table as she scrabbled to bunch her skirt around her waist and pull her panties. “Do me. Just do me.”

Lisa jumped up and left the room, Ruth still lying on the table, pleading.

Alice watched. The scene was so hot. Two gorgeous girls, begging to have their arses fucked. Lying there, exposed, needy, wanton. Arousal burning in their eyes. Gorgeous girls always turned her on. Always. And she loved girls’ arses. Her sister’s arses were so wonderfully firm, so round. Just begging to be fucked.

So why did something seem so wrong about this?

There couldn’t be anything wrong. It was impossible. Something so hot had to be right.

Lisa was back now, the strap-on she wore as blue as that Clara was still plunging into Nichole’s arse. Lisa’s fingers were slippery with lube.

Just like the dildo.

The slim brunette moved behind Ruth, her fingers finding her lover’s hole. Ruth moaned, back arching, her brunette hair spilling across the table, a few strands almost reaching Nichole’s blonde locks, as Lisa’s fingers probed her arse, readying her. Ruth reached out a hand to Nichole, the two sisters gazing into each other’s eyes for a moment as they held hands. Then Lisa’s hips thrust forward as Clara’s did and Alice watched as her sisters’ eyes almost rolled back in their heads, wordless sounds of bliss tumbling from their lips.

Now what about you, dear? Angela asked innocently.

An image flashed through Alice’s head. She could join her sisters. It could be the three of them lying on the table, having their arses fucked, in front of their mother.

No, Alice declared. She loved her girlfriend. She loved it when her girlfriend filled her arse. But not like this. Nichole was a toy. Ruth was going to be one.

Alice was determined that she never would be.

But don’t you want it? Angela teased. Wouldn’t it feel so good?

Alice knew that it would be. Knew how great it felt to have Sandra fucking her arse, how easily she came, over and over. Her arse felt so empty.

It would be so good to have it filled.

Later, Alice insisted. She and Sandra could have their fun tonight. For now, it was so good to watch her sisters, Ruth and Nichole crying out in bliss, over and over.

I think I’ll have Ruth in frilly little dresses most of the time, Angela mused. She’ll look so good in them. Especially when Lisa is filling her up.

Another image ripped through Alice’s mind, her sister in a white dress, light and short, Lisa behind her, Ruth’s mouth forming a wordless ‘O’ of surprise as Lisa held her to her from behind, Ruth’s girlfriend’s hands mauling Ruth’s tits through that dress. With Ruth pressed against Lisa in the image Alice couldn’t see, but she just knew Ruth’s girlfriend was fucking her arse.

Like now.

You sure you don’t want to join in? Angela teased.

Alice was sure. Totally sure. She was just going to watch. Even as she shifted in her chair, the slight sensation sending sparks through her. She was so turned on. She was going to cum so hard. Later. Not now. When Sandra gave her arse all the attention it was crying out for.

God, it felt so good when Sandra did that. When Alice was pinned under her girlfriend, writhing, crying out, her nipples grinding in to the sheet, her whole body singing as she came, over and over.

Alice needed it so much.

Needed her girlfriend.

Alice felt herself rising out of her chair. Had she decided to do that? She couldn’t remember. It was so hard to think. Her sisters looked so good, thrashing as their girlfriends pounded their arses. Their nipples would be so hard as they pressed into the table, pleasure shooting through them from the burning friction. As their mother watched. As they cried out, over and over.

Alice felt a hand on her back. It had to be Sandra. Sandra was bending her over.

Alice tried to form a thought. It might have been ‘no’. She wanted to say no, needed to.

She didn’t want this. Didn’t want to be fucked like this in front of her mother. Like her sisters.

Like a toy.

She tried to turn her head, wanted to plead with her girlfriend.

A wave of blue washed over her.

Alice stared up into Sandra’s green eyes.

“Fuck me, fuck my arse,” she pleaded. She’d wanted to plead. Alice knew that. So she did.

Of course she wanted this. Why had she bothered waiting? Why had she let her sisters go first? She should have insisted Sandra do her the moment the idea came up. She wanted this, needed it, her arse crying out to be filled.

Alice humphed in frustration as she sensed Sandra leave. Why hadn’t Sandra been ready? She should have known that Alice would want this.

The blonde’s thoughts dissolved, Alice almost cumming. as Sandra’s fingers, cool and slippery, circled her hole. They slipped inside, a moan ripped from Alice’s throat.

“Please,” she begged.

Her cries turned guttural, her whole body exploding as the dildo strapped to her girlfriend invaded her arse, Sandra thrusting it so deep. Alice came, lights dancing in front of her eyes as she gripped Nichole’s hand.

“Oh, oh, my girls are so lucky,” she heard their mother cry. “So lucky to have girlfriends like this.”

Alice turned her head, eyelids fluttering as another crest wracked her body. Her mother’s chest was heaving. One of Elaine’s hands had disappeared under the table. Was her mother playing with herself? To the sight of her daughters being fucked in the arse? If the flush on her mother’s cheeks and the bright light in her eyes were anything to go by then yes, yes she was.

God, that was so hot.

Elaine’s nipples were so clear through her blouse. Alice wondered what it would be like to suck those nipples as Sandra fucked her. It would be so wrong, her lips on those breasts. Her mother’s breasts.

Elaine’s eyelids fluttered, a stifled moan escaping her lips. Had her mother just cum?

Oh God, we turn her on, the thought barely managing to form in Alice’s head.

Her pussy clenched at the thought.

“I’m so happy,” Elaine managed, gasping between words. “That your girlfriends are so good to you. What more could a mother want?” Her free hand mauled one of her breasts as Ruth and Nichole cried out again. “Such good girls.”

Another orgasm was burning in Alice, she’d be crying out like her sisters in just a moment.

Your sisters make good toys, don’t they Angela smirked. I’m sure your mother would too. What about you? Are you sure you don’t want to join them? You could feel this good all the time. So happy. So turned on. Just doing what you’re told.

It would so easy. Alice was drowning in bliss, one hand scrabbling at the tablecloth, her other hand gripping one of Nichole’s. It would be so easy to give in. Just drown in the pleasure and never surface again. Part of her wanted it. So much. To feel this good all the time. To not worry about anything. Just be owned and obey.

To be a doll, like Nichole and Clara. Like Ruth and Lisa were going to be. Displayed in a case. Taken out to be played with.

With her girlfriend.

No! the word surfaced in Alice’s mind. She wasn’t going to let that happen to Sandra. She loved her girlfriend too much. What they had was real.

Angela laughed. Oh, that’s so precious.

Alice wondered what amused the woman so much.

Perhaps you won’t be my toy. Or perhaps you will. You haven’t proved yourself yet. And you would make a good toy. Just as good as Nichole. Something inside Alice burst with pride at that. She didn’t know whether Angela cared though, the woman continuing her musings So for tonight I think you should all just play together. Another taste. Just so you know. What it’s like. Tonight you’re my toy.

Alice’s mind was bathed in blue. She was a toy. She would obey.

You want it.

Alice did. Even if it was just for tonight, she did. She’d do what her owner said and play like a good little toy.

It would turn her on so much.

Aren’t my toys all so gorgeous?

They were. Nichole with her innocent blonde beauty. Petite Lisa. Ruth, with her brunette hair spilling about her face. Clara’s cool, sweet, bitterness.

And Sandra. Beautiful, wonderful, amazing, Sandra.

She was going to have them all. And they were going to have her. And her mother was going to watch.

Alice’s world dissolved in a wash of blue light.

They were good toys and they were going to play, just like their owner wanted.

What could be better?

(To be continued)