The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Bunny Maria stood behind Tracy and sternly ordered, “Drop the towel.”

“Yes Mistress,” Tracy said happily letting a towel wrapping her naked body fall onto the oriental carpeted floor. She took one step forward out of the piled towel and continued to face forward looking at a painting above the room’s fireplace that showed naked nymphs at play in a dark forest. She focused on her assigned mantra of keeping her eyes forward, head up and shoulders pulled slightly back.

She wanted to look at the mirrored wall to her left to see what color costume Bunny Maria had picked for her, but she knew she would be punished if she even glanced. She had waited weeks to become a full member, spending the entire time always following a strict regiment of rules dictated by the others. She had to talk, walk and act a certain way. She had to wear only skirts at work, wear a corset hidden underneath her blouse and suit jacket, and each day tighten that corset just a bit more.

Tracy was naturally slender with long straight brown hair that fell down her back like a shampoo model. The corseting she had endured wasped her waist down to twenty-two-and-half inches. She enthusiastically checked this everyday. She could be smaller, but her mistress insisted on no dieting. Bunnies had to pour over their costumes. They were not to be too skinny like some model named Twiggy. She thought for a moment. Who was this Twiggy anyway?

Maria held a waist cincher at Tracy’s ankles.

Its laces were loosely threaded in the grummets forming a tube that Tracy stepped into allowing it to slide it up her legs, over the butt and stop at the waist. Feeling it covering her torso, she cupped her breasts giving them a slight lift allowing the cincher to fit underneath. She noticed her long silky hair being draped over her right shoulder out of the way of the laces. The tightening of the cincher began.

Maria tugged the laces. “From now on you are not allowed to dress or undress yourself. I’ll pair you with another bunny. You both will help each other and coordinate a schedule.” Maria worked the laces and paused. “You excited? I am.

Once I do the final zip-up of this costume you will be a bunny in training.”

Tracy almost giggled as she stood there still cupping her boobs. “Hurry Mistress, I can’t wait.

I want to be a bunny so bad.” She felt the corset compress her body.

Tracy was a bunny costume aficionado. She knew that the original Playboy Bunny costume had no waist cincher. The bodice itself was a willow corset serving that function with stiff half-inch wide spiral spring metal boning and a strong zipper to keep bodies of the most well endowed women in place, but her mistress demanded even more. All bunnies she met in the past weeks had worn the extra hidden cinchers. It was one of many rules to be followed. She went over some of the rules again in her mind including that the waist must be pulled-in and the chest must be pushed up and out. She was going to be a good bunny—the best.

Bunny Maria’s long legs were clad in dark tights and given an exaggerated long look from her narrow feet being lifted onto her toes by four inch heeled black satin shoes. A black satin bunny suit encased her body and a matching pair of satin bunny ears pointed out from its satin covered headband holding back a voluminous 1960’s brunette bouffant hairstyle. Her wrists and neck were accented with remnants of a man’s tuxedo shirt: a pair of white oversized cuffs closed with golden cufflinks adorned her wrists; a white shirt collar with a black bowtie acted as a sexy choker.

The only other white part of the uniform was an oversized cottontail that wiggled as she concentrated on tugging Tracy’s laces to remove any slack. The seven-inch diameter fluffy tail was made like a child’s plush doll with a short fur cloth wrapping a ball of cotton stuffing inside. Instead of buttons to mark features of a plush doll’s face, the tail had three metal hooks positioned on a hidden circular bald spot where the tail firmly kissed Maria’s sexy derriere.

“Oh,” Tracy exhaled feeling her nipples under her palms get harder and more aroused. The cincher was contracting very snuggly. Another harsh pull forced out another “Oh!” as the cincher closed in some more. But this was too much though. Why so tight? Her torso was getting crushed. She dare not say anything aloud, but please stop pulling so hard. She kept wishing it would end.

Tracy never did her own corset so tightly. Maybe that was why the bunnies dressed each other.

It was just too hard to achieve the wasped look without help.

Maria braced her knee against the small of Tracy’s back and got one final draw of laces out of the cincher. Tracy’s mind drifted to thinking about the costume, a costume she always wanted to have sheath her body. What would be so bad in having just a quick little peak? Maybe she would get a demerit, but she had to see. Her eyes gave a quick sideways glance at the mirrored wall. The costume had to be sitting back there, somewhere behind them. What color was chosen? Where was it? She took a second glance. She could see in the reflection over in the dark corner an open drawer of a large oak sideboard cabinet. Draping over the drawer’s edge was a satin shell of a bunny costume and its perky pointing satin bunny ears. But wait, the costume color was wrong. Maybe it was the darkness. She looked again. It was a pumpkin orange. Orange! She was repulsed. She knew a sexy black or an irresistible royal blue color were strictly reserved for only the most deserving bunnies, but orange? At the least let it be red, maybe yellow or green. But orange!

Tracy tried her best to be diplomatic. “Mistress?”

Maria started tying off the laces. “Don’t complain about it,” she said obviously referring to the corset. “It will hurt for a while as we wasp your waist down. You’ll get used to it and you’ll like it and want more of it before long.” She gave her student a rear-end smack.

“Mistress. The Costume. It’s orange. I want pink.”

“Eyes forward. No comments. You’ll wear what you’re assigned and act like you love it.”

Tracy knew she was wrong for asking, but still the color ruined the fantasy. This, after all, was a life long dream of hers to wear an authentic Playboy Bunny outfit custom tailored to her body.

A pressure pushing up between Tracy’s butt cheeks interrupted her annoyance concerning the orange color. She felt a gooey lubricant against her skin as a rubber plug slowly and forcefully slid up her rectum creating a strong urge to push it back out. She shifted her weight to one leg then back, but nothing was comfortable. This was not bunny attire. What was this woman doing? Tracy continued to cup her breasts and try to stand in place as ordered, but the pressure inside continued to uncomfortably increase until Maria’s hand pressed against Tracy’s butt. The plug had gone all the way in.

Maria gave the plug an extra push. “Very good. Eight inches. I’ll have your partner try a ‘niner’ next time.” Shifting to be in front of Tracy, Maria lubricated another plug with some farting squirts of a plastic tube. “Feet shoulder length apart,” she ordered while using her right high heeled foot to gently tap the insides of Tracy’s ankles signally a needed adjustment. A plug began to be pressed upwards between Tracy’s legs. There was some resistance. Maria withdrew and tried again to find the right spot to insert the dildo.

Tracy tried to relax. She pleaded silently that the dildo would be pushed in smoothly. Please, get it right. She felt it pressing the wrong area again and then another missed target. Come on. She cringed as she felt the plug abruptly enter inside leaving a lingering stinging sensation. She winced. Not enough lubricant. Maybe she could distract herself by focusing on the repetitious thought of, “Eyes always forward. Head up.”

Maria attached a strap to the back of Tracy’s cincher, pulled it between Tracy’s legs covering the intruding rubber plugs. A strong yank up followed in front lifting her onto her toes for a second. The force set it firmly between the vertical lips of her sex and pressed both plugs further into place. The two women faced each other as Maria held the strap in place securing it to the cincher.

Maria gave a brief smile and then looked back down to check the straps tightness.

Tracy didn’t like the look she saw. It was more like a mocking sneer. Also it was shocking just how rude and careless things were being handled. Despite this she remained silent.

Maria gathered the legs of a pair of shear tights and held them ready at ankle level. Tracy dipped her left foot’s toes into the tights. Maria covered the foot up to the ankles, stopped and switched to dressing the other foot. Once both feet were nestled into the silk hose, it was pulled up Tracy’s legs, covering her thighs, butt and the cincher up to the waistline. Another pair of darker tights followed.

Tracy knew that bunnies always wore two sets of tights. Underneath was a flesh colored pair that evened out any tan lines so popular decades ago. Outside tights were black to for proper smoky-colored legs. Shirt cuffs and cufflinks were added next followed by a neck collar and clip-on-bowtie. Satin ears then topped Tracy’s head. Maria did not spend much time brushing or properly placing Tracy’s hair. The ears were sloppily poised and almost fell off. Tracy was bothered by this lack of effort, but she did not dare move or complain again.

All was forgiven when Tracy heard the unzipping of what could only be the costume shell.

It definitely was the stiff satin bodice. Finally! What would it feel like all zipped up?

Maria wrapped her arms around Tracy’s legs holding out the open costume. “Left leg first.”

Tracy carefully stepped her stocking covered foot into the left leg hole of the suit. She felt her shear silk covered leg brush against the costume’s inner lining. Then she followed with the right leg watching her toes point through the right leg hole. With both legs in, she felt the suit slide up against her thighs over her hips. Laces hung loose from two grommet slits above each hip. As the shell was pulled further up, she felt the breast cups go over her chest. She silently cheered, “I’m going to be a bunny! I’m going to be a bunny!”—But the cups! They were just way too big!

Tracy was proud of her breasts but this costume would require cantaloupes to fill it. She cupped the outside of the satin bodice and pressed the deflating cups against her boobs. She was distraught. How many socks would it take to pad these things?

“Don’t worry Tracy. You’ll fit. Now shoes.”

Maria dropped orange high heels on the floor.

Tracy used her feet to right them and pushed her feet in as she felt the costume being partially zipped up just over her protruding butt.

Maria continued to tug at places adjusting the half-zipped costume. “The tail covers part of the zipper, so pull it up part way and then put the tail on. It’s easier when you can slide a finger under the costume and feel for the hooks. Let’s see, the tail hooks on like this: one, then two, three.”

The hooks snapped to metal bars sewn on where the costume covered the tailbone.

Tracy was now in full costume except for the open zipper in the back. She was pushed forward into a slight bow at the waist with her legs held straight. Then something moist touched her back just above the cincher. Was she just kissed on the back?

Maria gave the wet spot s little pat. “I always sign my work. It’s a little red lipstick mark I hide under the costume.” A sideways brass hook and loop at the very top of the costume’s back flaps was connected together. The zipper was still only half-way closed leaving an open gap showing the cincher underneath.

Tracy felt the zipper being pulled up and stall. She tried to pull her stomach in more, but the cincher had already found the smallest possible hourglass figure. It was a struggle as the zipper failed to be tugged upwards any further.

Tracy had to fit in this thing. She had to.

She took a peek to her left to see the mirror. She saw herself holding oversized bra cups of the satin shell against her body. She could feel the leg holes brush against her tights like a loose rag diaper. Everything but the waist was too loose. What was this? This wasn’t what she was sized for? This won’t work! The color was wrong.

The size was wrong. All this for nothing! She would need bigger boobs and butt cheeks for this to work.

“Eyes forward,” Maria ordered. “Exhale. Come on. Blow out.”

Facing forward, Tracy felt the zipper beginning to move up. Why bother though? She thought of telling this bunny how bad it was. She thought about getting angry and yelling. As a few more zipper teeth interleaved and locked, she experienced several images flashing into her mind like memories from the past. She saw several bunnies laughing, working as waitresses serving costumers drinks, and clicking their heels down a long hallway’s hard floors. More zipper teeth interlocked as the zipper was pulled harder. The process squeezed her body and pushed more memories into her mind. But whose memories were these? The suit finally closed covering the lipstick marks completely.

Maria stepped back. “Mmm, mmm. Now we have one more thing to do here.”

Tracy stood motionless as she felt a hand slowly slide up her inner thigh against her two layers of sheer tights. Despite the horrible costume, she couldn’t help but set it all aside and focus everything on the sensation of the hand sliding over the outer pantyhose making tiny wrinkles over the inner hose. It was incredible how the moving nylon fibers had a slight cooling sensation.

The hand stopped at her crotch and began to massage her through the orange bunny costume’s gusset creating overwhelming spasms. Her eyes locked opened unable to even blink. Her breathing increased. She felt ashamed. There was no fighting what was happening and no stopping a fast on coming orgasm. Her eyes stung begging for just a blink. Her arms and legs muscles ached as they tightened even more. She stood further up onto her toes lifting her heels out of her snug orange stiletto pumps. Every muscle burned from holding so rigid for so long. Urgency to reach the big orgasm built-up inside her. She hadn’t expected this to be done to her. She hadn’t asked or even indicated any sexual lesbian interests. She wanted to slap the probing finger away, but she also wanted it to continue so, so bad. She worried that the moving finger would stop. Please, finish it! Let me have it. Don’t you dare stop now!

Maria’s fingers quickened as if she heard the plea. “You want to be bunny,” Maria whispered from behind Tracy’s ear. “Say it over and over. You want to be a bunny.”

“Yes,” Tracy mumbled. “I.” She stopped to find the words. Too many things were going on here. “Yes, I want to be a bunny,” she blurted and sucked in more air. “I, I, Ohhh!” She orgasmed. Her body shivered as she almost tipped over like a domino.

Maria grabbed Tracy around the waist steadying the hyperventilating bunny. “That’s my little bunny.” She removed her support when the spasms became more controlled letting Tracy relax and recover.

As the orgasm faded, the costume came to life altering itself and Tracy’s body. The waistline pulled in with a crushing reduction even crueler than the cincher underneath. What was happening? Her eyes grabbed a flash of herself in the mirrored wall. She saw her perfect butt round out even more filling the originally loose leg holes of the costume. Her boobs inflated as her body eagerly plunged into the enormous rigged bra cups.

Tracy began to panic. She couldn’t move. How could this be happening?

It was clear that Maria was enjoying this part. “See. You fit it just fine.”

Tracy felt a power emanate from the costume and enter her body. She felt pressure and heat across her entire skin. Her waist wasped inwards even further. Her heart raced as her breathing quickened. Her breasts rose up and down as she tried to get air in her lungs. Her breasts continued to swell. Deep inside, it was clear to Tracy that her breasts were going to expand to fill the costume’s expectations. Her hands still gently pressed against the satin bodice bra cups, but her fingers, wrists and arms refused to move. She wanted to squeeze her tits so hard. Just grab and hold her growing aching boobs. The impossible action seemed like a means to relief. Please, just one good squeeze. Just one.

Maria pulled Tracy’s hands away to pose them like a stiff jointed Barbie doll. Tracy felt her shoulders being pulled back forcing her chest out, her back straight and her stance tall. Her hands were placed on her hips. Her body was turned to face the mirror.

Tracy stared in disbelief as locks of her hair move like the snakes of Medusa over her shoulders, lifting themselves up and piling onto her head.

Maria bounced up and down with joy. “Yes. It’s actually working.”

A pulse vibrated between Tracy’s legs forcing her to close her eyes. The plugs moved up even more than the strap had pushed them. Tracy wanted to press her legs together and squeeze against the plugs. Maybe she could hold them in place. Maybe she could stop the upward pressure. She struggled as hard as she could with no satisfaction. She lifted her right thigh rubbing the inside of her legs. Maria promptly smacked the raised knee making the transforming bunny promptly returned to attention. Tracy didn’t know what to do. The costume was overwhelming her.

Maria squeezed Tracy’s face in one hand keeping her victim attention on the mirror. “Look. Look! Open your eyes! You’re beautiful!”

Tracy watched herself in horror. Her brown hair was changing to a bright blonde and magically finishing off the styling of a perfect bouffant hairdo like Bunny Maria’s. The orange satin ears anchored themselves perfectly in her newly blonde colored hair and stretched up bending their tips forward like growing leaves on a plant facing the sun. The headband strongly and painfully gripped her scalp holding back the growing volume of hair.

Pain surged through Tracy’s breasts and legs.

Her hands helplessly stayed posed on her hips. She could only get her fingers to slide a tiny amount across the satin costume till her fingertips touched her shear tights just below the costumes leg holes. Her struggle was futile. She wanted to grab and massage her burning thighs or maybe she should grab her expanding breasts. What to do? She couldn’t move. The loose laces above each leg opening tide themselves into neat little shoelace knots.

In the mirror, a motionless orange Playboy Bunny with blonde hair grew taller, hips wider, chest bustier and body more full figured. Her upper arms thinned. Her inner thighs pulled in leaving a wide gap between her legs just below the crotch. Only her knees touched as she desperately tried to press her inner thighs firmly together to stop the rapid pulsing she felt inside her body.

She stood silent and helpless as she screamed in her mind: “Make it stop. Help me!” She wanted to rub herself, feel the costume as it took over her body, push her hands against her crotch and press the two globes growing on her chest against something rigid—maybe the mirrored wall or bend over the study’s desk and press them firmly down against its table top.

Maria clapped her hands shrieking with delight. Her giddiness was too much for Tracy to watch, but there was no turning away. A rage was building inside. Anger, resentment and even shame increased—shame for falling in this trap and being touched by this slut. What had this bitch done?

Another surge of energy hit. Tracy moaned as her legs grew one last spurt taller and then the rushing flood of pain and pleasure stopped.

Euphoric relief fell over Tracy. She was a bunny now. She stood dramatically arching her spine and shoulders far enough back to shadow her cottontail and counter balance the weight of her breasts, which were now two enormous mounds of flesh pressing down on a costume that would not give or expand even to let in a full breath.

Each intake of air was a double Sisyphean challenge involving pushing her new heft up and out only to give-in letting her chest suddenly fall with a jiggle. The top half of the costume bodice was a heart shape covering her large breasts narrowing to a point at her cinched waist like a plumb-bob balancing on a table of wide hips supported by two long sultry legs.

Maria stepped around checking the results. She gave a tight hug pressing the full length of their bodies together. There was pressure as their pillowy breasts crashed against each other. They made eye contact.

Tracy remained frozen thinking: “Damn you! Slut! Curse you!” The force against her chest actually felt good. It took over the anger. Yes.

Press harder. Pull in more. Her eyelids flickered. She closed her eyes feeling the wonderful warmth she was trapped in.

Maria stepped back and nodded with approval. “Sometime I feel a sudden guilt, but then I look at one of my creations and think how can I not do this to them?”

Tracy felt a hand stroke her left bare shoulder and move slowly down over her silky smooth arm to the large white cuff that wrapped her tiny wrist. The hand motion then moved back up on the inside of her left arm, lifting it up to point at the ceiling in a slow sensual dance move.

She opened her eyes and watched as her right elbow was pushed out leaving its hand to rest on the hip.

Tracy could see a martini being prepared with an olive plopped in. The drink was placed on a silver tray and hoisted up onto her hand held above her head. Her raised arm felt the weight of the tray being placed on her delicate figure tips.

Her frozen body left her feeling so isolated.

She was there, but yet trapped inside. Her eyes focused only forward like a horse with blinders. She was Mannequin Tracy now and she wondered if she would ever move again. Somewhere behind her, she could hear cabinet drawers open and close. Papers rustled.

Fighting to focus on the mirror, a blurry reflection was visible of a bunny tail wagging at the ceiling as a dark figure bent over a lower cabinet drawer. Even squinting to watch was impossible, but despite what had happened the urge was so strong to see Maria’s sexy costumed body again. But how could Maria do this to her? Why?

Tracy hated herself. She felt horny and yet knew what she felt was so wrong. She should try to control herself. Could she ever change her body back? Maybe she could find a way to move without anyone’s permission. She concentrated. She fought against her body. Despite every effort, nothing happened. She was frozen awaiting an order from her master. She could not scream, not even whisper or moan.

“Found it,” Maria said holding-up an antique Polaroid camera with a flash bulb in the center of a large metal reflector. “Turn and smile.”

Tracy pivoted on her left toes, faced the camera, and smiled with a subtle look of fear hidden in her eyes. She was not a statue after all: she was really a puppet. The flash bulb popped blasting light over the small study.

Maria opened the back of the camera and pulled out a flat sheet of film. “I have an iPhone, but I love the classics.” She set the picture on the desk to give it time to develop. “So my little pet, that is what we call a bimbo bunny suit. Orange is a warning color to us bunnies. You don’t want to accidentally put that thing on. I love it on you though. It took to you so fast. Amazing how strong its power is. Oh! One last little thing left to do. The nametag. You want a nametag don’t you? Who wants a cute little nametag? Huh?”

Tracy craved for one now. It would complete the costume. She knew it was insane to think about a nametag, but yes she wanted one. It would hang above her right hip on a tiny metal loop sewn to the costume’s satin. She had forgotten about the nametag. With it in place, she truly would be Bunny Tracy. Do it please. Please.

“I’m sorry Tracy, but a bimbo bunny nametag has one little itty-bitty side effect. It erases your mind. But I’m certain you’ll love your new personality. You still want this?”

Tracy nodded. She wanted to yell “No!” but like an on coming orgasm, she could not stop herself now.

Maria held two rosettes with names imprinted on their center circles. Tracy saw the names Bubbles and Candie.

“Both,” Maria continued, “are from total airhead bunnies I trained here. Any last words pumpkin? You choose.”

Choose? That’s crazy. Tracy struggled to think clearly. She scolded herself for not successfully fighting back. It was her body after all. Or was it anymore? Say something! She couldn’t believe she was encased in such a stupid suit. Mmm, but it felt so snug and wonderful. Snap out of it! She was exhausted. She focused her eyes on Maria and murmured, “Please don’t.”

Maria tossed one nametag aside. “Candie it is then.” She clicked a ribbon onto the costume’s tiny metal loop above Tracy’s right hip.

Tracy closed her eyes. Memories of her life flashed by and disappeared into a black void. Images and sounds of family, friends, high school, college, work all vanished. She was being vacuumed out of her own mind.

A moment passed.

Tracy reopened her eyes and said in a high pitch helium voice, “Hi! I’m Bunny Candie. Do you have a member’s key?”