The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Bunny Tales

Chapter Three

“Who the hell is calling me this early in the fucking morning?”

“Hi, Master!”

“Bunny?”

“It’s three o’clock in the morning! Do you know where I am?”

“What?”

“I knew you wouldn’t get it.”

“Bunny, where the hell are you?”

“In a big city!”

“Ha. Ha. Which city?”

“Umm... I see a bridge. Does that help?”

groan “You drag your sorry butt home, this minute.”

“I can’t.”

“Bunny!”

“I can’t. You canceled my credit card.”

“I’ll send someone to pick you up.”

“Can’t. I don’t know where I am.”

“Don’t feed me that bullshit! How could you possibly not know where you are?”

“Because I’ve been using the silver gun to program myself to forget.”

“Ex-squeeze me?”

“Clever, huh?”

“Uh, Bunny? Shooting yourself with that thing over and over could cause permanent brain dam... oh, fuck it. Look who I’m talking to.”

“And besides, I’m not finished with your Christmas present, yet.”

“I DON’T WANT ANY MORE DAMNED SLAVES!”

“It’s not more slaves.”

“Oh, please. Knowing you, you’re trying to assemble a complete collection of teenage elf-girls from all Santa events across the city, this year.

“Ooooh. I hadn’t thought of that one.”

“Damnit, Bunny!”

“Master, you seem awfully stressed out.”

“Well of course I am!”

“Didn’t you get that therapist I sent you for your birthday?”

“Jesus Christ, of course I did! Why do you think I’m so stressed?”

“Isn’t she working out? She came very highly recommended.”

“Oh, well I’m sure she did.”

“She had a diploma from Harvard, you know...”

“Yeah, and now she’s a sex slave. All that work really paid off, huh?”

“Well, she won’t have to worry about those student loans, anymore.”

“I’m curious. What twisted mechanism in your brain sends me a new sex slave because I’m stressed out from having too many sex slaves? Doesn’t that seem even a little strange?”

“Well, I’m trying to enslave smarter, not faster.”

“Right. I need whiskey.”

“She should still be able to do her job. Isn’t she counseling you?”

“Yeah, but it’s kind of hard to get counseling from a naked woman who’s stroking herself while she’s listening to you.”

“She what? Crap. How did THAT happen?”

“Who cares?”

“Well, I do. I’m an artist. I want to know what went wrong.”

“WHAT WENT WRONG? You enslaved her! You made her sex-obsessed! She keeps conferring with Dr. Bastos about my penis!”

“Why? Have you been thinking with your dick?”

“You know, even from you I expected a better punchline...”

“Anyway, I’m not getting you a slave for Christmas. I mean, it’s not like I’m obsessed, or anything.”

“Yeah, sure. What are you getting me, then?”

“I don’t want to tell you.”

“Fine. If you don’t want to come home, and you don’t want to tell me what you’re getting me for Christmas, then why are you calling me?”

“I’m bored.”

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?”

“No. There’s nothing on T.V.”

“I don’t hear anything from you in three fucking months and suddenly you’re calling at three a.m. because there’s nothing on television?”

“Yep.”

“Right. On to the vodka.”

“It’s the middle of the night, I’m wide awake, and all that’s on is infomercials and porn.”

“Gee. Porn’s not interesting?”

“With the home life I’VE got? No.”

“Well, have you tried any of the local stations?”

“No. I’ve programmed myself never to look at those because then I’d know where I am. Nice try.”

“I swear to God, Bunny...”

“Well, I’m sorry, but I’m stuck! I almost had it, too!”

“Almost had what?”

“I... I umm... Fuck. Okay, I give up. I need your help with it.”

“With WHAT? What, Bunny?”

“Your Christmas present. I’m trying to deprogram the slaves.”

“You... ex-squeeze me?”

“I’m supposed to make you happy. You made me into a huntress because you thought it would make you happy, but you made a mistake. The guns only work one way, so now you’ve got too many slaves and you’re incredibly worried about being discovered and you’re yelling at me a lot.”

“Bunny...”

“If I can deprogram most of them and send them home, then you won’t be so stressed out and I can keep hunting as long as I can undo it after a while.”

“Well... wow. That’s actually fairly smart.”

“I really wish you’d stop assuming that I’m stupid, Master. I mean, I may be optimistic and have a high-pitched voice, and I may be hyperactive, I may not make a lot of sense to ‘normal’ people, hell I may even be blond, but I’m not stupid.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I...”

“That’s why I took the guns apart.”

“I... Okay, maybe it IS too early to be drinking. I’m sorry, I couldn’t possibly have heard you right. Could you repeat that, please?”

“I took the guns apart so I could fiddle with them.”

“Bunny, you’ve just sent a deathly chill running down my spine...”

“I can’t remember if the bristly thingie goes inside the silver tube with the yellow stripes or the oily doo-hickey that hums when you bang it on the table, though.

“...and right up my anus. Those things are incredibly dangerous, Bunny!”

“Whose hands did you leave them in?”

“This isn’t funny! I just sobered up, here!”

“Well good, because I need your help with this.”

“You need a lot of help, Bunny, and not just with those guns! What possessed you to take those things apart?”

“Well, I was being careful about it! I saw on some P.B.S. show about Thomas Edison where he would take things apart and lay them out in this exploding diagram all nice and neat so he could see how all the pieces worked together and learn more about them, so I thought I’d try that.”

“Bunny, Edison knew what each of those parts were made of and what they each did. You don’t.”

“Yeah, I kinda figured that out once I got the gun pulled apart.”

“Oh, Jesus, Bunny.”

“But I did a really good job of keeping everything where it belongs.”

“Then why can’t you figure out where that one piece goes?”

“The maid bumped the table while she was bent over, looking for her panties.”

“THE MAID?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, how do I know the deprogramming works if I don’t program someone in the first place?”

“Why don’t you come home and practice on the slave here? It makes sense to me!”

“I didn’t want to come home until I got it right, so I figure since I’m hopping around from hotel to hotel anyway, I’d play with all the handy-dandy hotel maids. OOOH! I that reminds me! I’m learning SPANISH!”

“I DON’T CARE IF YOU’RE LEARNING THEORETICAL PHYSICS! If the deprogramming doesn’t work yet, then what the hell has happened to all those maids?”

“Well, like I said, I’ve been getting pretty close. I mean, I can get them to stop being lesbian and I can get them to wear clothing in the hallways again, and hell I can even get them to stop smearing their pussy juices on the mints in the guests rooms before they leave them on their pillows.”

“Where the hell did I put the tequila?”

“But I can’t quite get them to stop obeying me, so I’ve been leaving them where they were and ordering them to act normal until I come back to fix them... Well, I’ve been leaving them lesbian, but otherwise acting normal.”

“And just what the hell would you know about normal? Have you been keeping a list of where you left the programmed maids?”

“No, because then I’d know where I am. Nice try.”

“GOD-DAMNIT, BUNNY! How the hell are you ever going to find them again?”

“Easy! I’ll get the deprogramming to work and then erase the programming that makes me forget everything! HA!”

“Right. Everclear it is, then.”

“Master, you don’t own any Everclear.”

“A twenty-minute jog will fix that.”

“But I need your help putting this back together.”

“Oh? Which gun is it?”

“Umm... It’s the white one.”

“Oh! The primer, eh?”

“Um, yeah.”

“The ‘starter pistol,’ without which, you can’t program anyone. How sweet. I’m not telling you dick.”

“But Master...”

“If you can’t program anyone, your little experiment is over and you have to come home. Now.”

“But Master, I’m convinced the white gun is the key to deprogramming. Something about the way it works when it primes the slaves’ brains is preventing deprogramming. I’m almost there!”

“Bunny...”

“please?”

groan “I’m going to live to regret this. Fine. The bristly thingy – as you so eloquently named it – goes inside the synaptic carbonator.”

“The what now?”

“The silver tube with the yellow stripes.”

“Oh! Right! So what goes inside the oily doo-hickey?”

“Nothing. That’s the firing pin. It’s supposed to be chambered.”

“Okay, and what’s this curvy thing?”

“What curvy thing?”

“The one next to the firing pin that has ‘Don’t Touch’ scratched into it?”

“That’s the trigger, Bunny.”

“Oh, right! I didn’t recognize it outside the gun and all.”

“I’ll bet. Can you get the rest of it, then?”

“Hmmm... She must have bumped the table harder than I thought...”

“I wish she’d bumped YOU. What’s wrong now?”

“Well, the firing pin was in with the parts that go inside the handle, so if that goes up behind the barrel, then how do those parts fit together?”

“Gods. The bristly thingy goes inside the silver tube with yellow stripes...”

“Got that part...”

“The tube goes inside the blue rubber sleeve...”

“Okay...”

The copper pin slides into the other end of the silver tube until it clicks...”

“Okay...”

The battery slides onto the other end of the copper pin until it clicks...”

“The what?”

“The plastic thing-a-ma-jig shaped like an egg.”

“The one I’ve been rubbing in my pussy?”

“You WHAT?”

“Just kidding.”

“That’s not funny! That battery is a self-contained fusion reactor in miniature! It could level a whole city if it gets damaged.”

“Wow. That’s a lot of power.”

“It sure as hell is!”

“And you’re using it to get laid. All that hard work really paid off, huh?”

“Fuck you. I’m also using it to power half the third world.”

“You WHAT? And you complain about how many people I’VE enslaved?”

“I’m not enslaving them, I’m just... oh, nevermind! Just pay attention! On the bottom of the battery are three small holes. The red wire in the bottom of the gun’s handle goes inside the yellow hole. The blue wire goes into the black hole and the white wire goes inside the orange hole! Got it?”

“Uhhhh... right.”

“HAVE YOU GOT IT?”

“Yeah!”

“Seriously, Bunny! We’re talking about a crater twenty miles in diameter!”

“I thought we were talking about the egg.”

“GOD DAMNIT!”

“All right already! Here, I’m doing it. Hang on...”

“Be careful.”

“OH MY GOD!”

“What?”

“OH MY GOD!”

“What?”

“MY FAVORITE T.V. SHOW IS ON!”

“WHAT?”

“IT’S A MARATHON! I can’t believe this! I never get to see this show anymore! I’ll call you back!”

“Wait! Are you kidding me? You have to finish this!”

“I’ll do that later! It’s not like it’s the end of the world, or anything...”

“YES IT IS!”

“But, Master, it’s Doctor Necketo... Doctor Nehipo... Doctor...”

“For chrissakes! Doctor Nechetohontoquatl!”

“How do you DO that, Master?”

“Turn the television off!”

“I can’t! This show is really funny and the blond girl is really hot!”

“I don’t care if the second season has Kelly Ripa dancing naked and gunning down Regis Philbin!”

“You have the weirdest fantasies, Master.”

“Turn off the television, Bunny!”

“Look, it’s okay! I’ll call you back later when the marathon is over.”

“I don’t want you to call me back!”

“Okay!” click