The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

[Lulu’s Viewpoint]

What are my huge breasts good for? Only a bit of fat with a cherry on top! Yet I lean forward at my taxman, give him a halfway-peek, and he’s bug-eyed! I haven’t loved him up, ‘Fons’ of Internal Revenue, because I know, he’d no longer dream of me. That’s why I get the lowest-possible tax rate, and got it for Gina and Meena too, not that they appreciated my efforts much. They complain, they’re paying twenty percent. Well, what other girls making more than 200K-a-year get that low a tax-bite? Ingrates are so-o annoying! Fons says I’ll never be thin: Anyway I shouldn’t try to diet because he thinks me perfect now.

Getting back to my boobs, they’re usual to me’ [a quick hands down-up, cupping breast-rub] ‘only another body-part: But really-big naturals are worth money to an actress, I’ve found. I’m getting ready to wash now. I haven’t a real lot of straight-sex experience because I married early, and I’m divorced, which took loads of getting used to: Why didn’t he want me? I’m ‘too heavy’, not to say, ‘fat’. …That’s a tiny belly there, yes: So what? And my butt’s a little too-large? I stick it out toward the mirror, bumping out and in and squirming back and forth to each side. In the front, my curves are fine—but not there? Really! It doesn’t make much sense, does it? My thighs jiggle a bit too, when I shake my legs.’ [Lifting each, makes upper legs quiver.] ‘Oh, well…I’m trimmer-looking now than at my old 140-weight...

I’ll be twenty-three in late August.’ [Leans forward, long pink nipples almost touching her mirror…] ‘Look for lines around my eyes: I don’t have any but if I’m overweight, I fill out my face and neck more, don’t get lines? Why worry about it? I nearly have enough dough now, to get by, forever? Even if my career suddenly takes a nose dive? Think I don’t know this work is dangerous, could disfigure me, ruin my face or body permanently? Think again!’

[Caresses cheeks, both hands hold two-tone hair, raising tits: Unsatisfied-face, fluffs, shrugs, gives up.]

[Into the shower, Lulu soaps her enormous boobs, which pinkens them, causes shudder, flop up-down. Bulbous reddened nipples peek appealingly drip bubbles. Next soaps her shoulders-back-sides: White curves shine with suds, splashes-rinses, puts more soap on the cloth to scrub lifted fat legs, her thighs pillar-like, a hint of flab…Feet-pussy-ass scrubbed. Rinses pussy, ass a lot more: Quick spin and squeals at the finish. Touching clitoris-wiggles-raises head-smiles. Groans. Reaches out, grabs yellow bathtowel.

Thinking [drying, patting her boobs, wiping underneath each, wrapping towel around and shivering a bit]: ‘I don’t know why but it may be the low pay. I am obsessed with Meena’s tit-milk and I know I need it bad. But this contract for sixty-two five-a-film, goes against my grain big-time. I haven’t made a starlet’s salary in two years!’

Her tight-looking D-cup bra is too small, squashes in, pushes up humongous, perfect-grapefruit breasts.

Lulu, a busty blonde steps into, yanks up and around herself, a metallic-looking lightning-bolt patterned silver-black low-cut dress, shadowy deep cleavage. Reaching around back bending, boobs balloon, zips.

‘I tell Gina and she is unsympathetic. Says “You wanted to make your bed over there…Now sleep in it.” I ask her to come over. The frizzy redheaded lesbian Gina used to live with me. I admit to a bit of girl-girl hanky-panky….I got a penthouse. …The way I’m going, I’ll give it up or its high rent’s going to kill me.’

Gina, full-figured frizzy-redhead, Lulu’s agent and former Co-star at Solly Allen’s Studio says, looking at the paper. “You signed this? Got to be nuts!” More riffling pages. Mutters: “That low pay sucks! At least it don’t specify number of films you got to make…” Entrances Lulu without any trouble. Leads her.

Her big green eyes lift up, “Lulu, you are getting sleepy…Try to open your eyes. …You can’t, can you? That’s correct, lie on the couch.” […Patting the cushion twice with her hand.] “…Here, next to Gina.” Bends over her, looks into Lulu’s face upside-down, “You‘re weaned from Meena, don’t want to work for her at “The Country of Love” Studio: You want freedom. You have to escape with Gina back to Solly Allen’s Studio.” “…O.K. Lulu, wake up -feeling refreshed- NOW.” Caresses both sides corn-blonde’s face.

Lulu says, “I want to go back to work but I still hunger for Meena’s milk.” Kisses Gina’s lips medium-long.

Gina thinks, ‘We’re going to have to use Shocken, since I can’t break Meena’s spell, I suppose…’ Reaches inside Lulu’s cleavage and says, “You really need this tight bra in here, Lulu? White shows up in the middle with this dress, too? Sit up and I’ll unsnap you.” Lulu gets up and offers her bosom to Gina.

[Backstage, The Amazing Shocken completed his show: Entering Dressing Room, he and Gina meet Lulu]

Mr. Shaw Chen also known as ‘The Amazing Shocken’ wears a tuxedo and is taking off his top hat, saying to Gina, “…Afterwards, the Studio will provide the ‘aversion-therapy reinforcement’ and I’ll only have given Lulu the post-hypnotic command. Real [pronounced something like lear] easy.” Beckons Lulu over.

Shocken stares at her full tits as Gina nods and pulls down her shiny spangle-dress sidling behind screen.

Shocken goes on soothingly, huskily repeating command, “Return to Gina and the Solly Allen Studio” when Lulu’s film wraps. “Lulu, sit over here in this chair. That’s comfy, isn’t it? You’re tired, sleepy. Can’t hardly keep your eyes open…Go ahead and close those heavy lids…That’s better, isn’t it? …Sure. You bristle with resentment when your new ‘The Country of Love’ Studio punishes you: In consequence of your oral obsession, obeying Meena for her milk. Nursing …unnecessary. Torture reinforces weaning: Dismiss her spell overcoming baby-thirst utterly! You won’t crave Meena or her big fake tits’ milk again.”

[Filming at “The Country of Love” Studio]

Lulu stiffens with electricity surged into her perfectly-round breasts, in an electric chair with wires to her chair-suspended taut-roped body. Otherwise-naked, shiny, sweaty, ungagged, she’s screams! “Aie!”

[Lulu’s Viewpoint]

‘Another big throb strikes down through me from my burnt nipples! Thinks: I mustn’t see Meena or be obsessed with her tit-milk! …Oh God, if only they didn’t do that…’ [A pussy-stroke of flaming shock is remotely sent by masked Meena to Lulu’s stuck-on black electrode-pad. Readout: ‘High.’] ‘My thighs!’ “Oww!” ‘My armpits! Why include them? My feet on the floor to relieve hanging, makes the electricity worse zinging and zapping up and down me, intense like it’s a ground…Each throb goes directly to my nipples and clitoris, zips flashing to my toes, abruptly whanging them over and over, like it can’t escape? I can’t do much more, I’m graying-out…Splotches of red and black mar my vision. My reddened legs aren’t tied to my chair: I raise them. …No shocks come! Have to lift my legs up from floor!’ [Raising both legs to seat-height soles of feet point horizontally out, thighs careless-spread, taut

crotch-rope, tit rope.]

‘I’m O.K., except I’m rope-incised, hanging by my purple tits, my crotch-rope hip-harness. No waist-rope safety-strand either, so ropes redly sink deeply in me. For some reason my masked torturer’s closer, is kissing me with her tongue inside my wet and drooling mouth!—I already thought it was Meena. …But now I know. After she releases her mouth-work Meena leaves two heavy tight nipple-clamps…Oh…what crushed hurts, my giant pink-tip breasts zing! Wish I was an ordinary girl not the porn-star I’ve become!

Sparks fly off my boob-clamps as electric-fire spider-webs careen wildly across my black-patched boobs and shiny-chrome-clamped pink nipples! Great pain! I’m blindly kicking out my feet haphazard, shocks recede! I connect, my foot-uppercut short-kicks Meena’s pussy, my big toe flicks her clitoris? Frog-kick her breasts sideways as she’s flying back—not as firm a left blow; glancing-smack her fat fakers?’ [Faints.]

“Cut!” Tom yells, stepping over to fallen masked figure. “Meena, you all right?” [Turns halfway around to girl standing behind Camera.] “Go fetch the Doc, would you, Debbie…” “Marty, Roger, help her up…”

Grips boost Meena off the floor, who says, “Been better.” Rubbing her crotch with one hand and her bosom with the other. Displays angry face unmasking. Puzzled and pissed-off by turns. Rubs self more.

The huge rolling Camera withdraws, taking its last long look as lightning flashes jump on tits-and-pussy-suspended, chair-bound, white-vision Lulu, next settles on Meena’s remote control box: She blinks it off.

[Lulu’s Viewpoint, continued in Flashback]

Lulu is far away, in Flashback-dreamland, hog-tied face-up onto a hassock. Shocken is screwing her: Standing in front between her bent-down, spread-open legs with little light-brownish fuzz visible, while at rear Gina stands over her head, Lulu’s face between her legs. Gina looks down, glints fiendish glee.

“Go on eating me, Lulu, Chen won’t get you off until I climax. …Go slow, Mr. Top Hat…” Shocken, wearing only his hat, nearly six-foot, is very-slowly fucking Lulu, one of his hands on her somewhat-flattened by position but obviously enormous, right breast, while Gina squeezes Lulu’s left boob. Pinching, twisting and pulling on Lulu’s long whitened-pink nipple, Gina kisses Shocken in an A-frame arrangement above horizontal head-spinning hurting Lulu. “I can’t hold out much longer” top-hatted hypnotist mutters regretfully. He tries everything to keep up. Moans, feverish-thrusting. Gina says “Think of cabbages.” Openmouthed kissing nibbling his lips grunts bumping hips sideways on Lulu’s face.

[Back at the Country of Love Studio]

Tom tells the Grips to carry, put Lulu in the Iron Maiden. “That’s tight enough tying her hammerlocks, don’t break her arms. Tie up her ankles, might as well add a rope. …Well, two …below, above her knees. Don’t forget to put her head-guard on…” [Pointing at a clear helmet and face-shield device on a chair.]

Doctor points to semi-conscious Meena and wags finger as if to say, ‘She can’t do even the top part of torturer right now. Too sensitive in delicate spots.’ [Touches Meena’s really-wide aureoles: She jumps!]

Tom asks wiry Debbie if she can handle the scene and she says, “With Maureen’s help, I’ll be glad to thump Lulu.” Relishing their opportunity, the cruel duo practice-twist, swinging their long-handled heavy floppers. Wearing Black-Leather Mistress-outfits, the lean grinning Debbie and the much-larger full-figured Maureen, both brunettes, suffered a dearth of parts during Lulu’s stardom at their Studio. For one thing, Lulu’s extremely-low beginner’s salary she now commands, is cheaper than either...

The Grips move Lulu, who’s mumbling “No, no, …no more …please…” Both men look up at Tom, but he silently hand-waves guys to continue carting her off: Inserting her dazed into spike-ridden clear cabinet.

Far upstage, Meena sits up and caresses herself with her mouth open and asks, ‘If she’s missed a shot?’

Tom shouts “Action!”

Crackling electricity shoots from Iron Maiden’s inward-pointing spikes and on two sides of it, Debbie and Maureen thrash floppers on both sides of cabinet. Inside, the lightning-bolting points stick into Lulu, shock especially her outstanding gigantic boobs, fat ass, heavy thighs, tiny but very-slightly-bulging belly.

The cabinet is set onto a rubber stand which allows it to bend in every which direction as it’s hit with the heavy thumpers: They’ve a big square flap of plastic flex on each. Debbie and Maureen are charging, bashing the Iron-Maiden cabinet passionately. Maureen’s full breasts good-looking when she’s hitting cabinet, their raising thins distorted as she draws back, grading to filled, thrust-halt as she delivers hit. Men admire Debbie’s slim waist-narrow thighs-grin. Film crew laughs at inside, outside, cabinet-views.

[Lulu’s Viewpoint, continued]

‘Why do the Grips tie my thighs and calves? I can hardly stand up as it is! Roger looped twice around my ankles, tied two square knots, when he stood and slipped a helmet over my head, carefully pulling my hair through a gap in back, where it forms a pony-tail. A white-blonde horse-tail…Whitish only on ends: I’m growing it out to yellow-corn, my normal color. Marty behind me is tying a rope around my calves tightly, now around my thighs, it’s sinking in, but to make it better, or so he thinks, he kisses my ass cheeks once each and rubs his hairy chest against my butt as he ascends. I do appreciate his gesture.

I howl but they hear very little, as my clear face-mask includes a mouth-muffler. Everything is slightly magnified and deformed, looking through Plexiglass. The larger-than-usual-eyed Grips carry me. Big-guy Roger holds my head, Marty grasps my feet. I’m stood inside, pushed scraping against points, into the horribly-spiked clear cabinet. Door’s closed. I about fit, warm flexible spikes pricking my skin at my ass, thighs and breasts. Designed for someone slenderer? Notice the spikes glow a peculiar yellow-orange?

I’m seeing the erections all three men sport. Even Director Tom. He’s small-built, compared to most of the men here, especially the male sex-actors, all of whom are horse-hung. And he knows that I am short inside my pussy, unusually so, but my hands, feet and even my short legs are similarly petite. I’d blow all three of these guys if they’d let me out, but of course, that’s not an option: They’re all terribly kinky!

Two fish-eye-lens-deformed Black-Leatherettes whap my cabinet sides, knocking me about… Electrified spikes stick into me, injecting sparking fire into my boobs, ass and thighs, half-erect like dicks bend, bump up against my head-guard as I slump against each side unable to stand the wobbling. “Errrr!”

I can’t describe this imbedded branding! “Zzzzttt!” But it’s continuous, with only places being tortured changing! “Owww!” None of my roaring is heard outside? …My thigh, ass, blood-spotted, one hole is bleeding, but not my tits? I shake my aching head sideways vigorously, signaling my old safeword.

Sliding down-cupboard, dicks slap helmet. Wriggling, a spike ejects a spark up my nose through a tiny breathing-hole in my mask: I’m burnt inside my nose, around my cheekbones on both sides a line of heat runs to the back of my head… “Ahhhh!”—My hair stands on end. Probably turns all-white, just opposite my intent. Continuous jabs, burns, uncontrollable shuddering all over: Quakes tremble tits, ass, belly and pussy endlessly: I’m erect, nipples and clitoris, climax!’ “Argghh!” ‘Clamp teeth onto guard-gag plate. Pricks burn against my naked body…I fold…not much, since my ties, very-close fit, disallow any collapse-room.’ [Lulu’s half-red half-pallid body falls over knees fold, push on spikes.] “Cut!”

[Flashback to Shocken’s Act Where Spangled-Assistant Gina is out in the Audience Seeking Volunteers]

Gertie, a near-flatchested baby- holding mother, in audience, elbows her fat husband and he says, “We could sure do with the cash, Sweetie.”

She nods to Gina, passes the husband her tiny baby to hold. Saying “Just don’t shake her, you fool.” Gets up, follows Gina to the stage, where Shocken tells Lulu to nurse on Gertie’s small, nearly-flat boobs.

The audience applauds her impromptu topless stripping anyway, though she’s unattractive: Gertie sits on the chair, pats her lap, says to Lulu as unenthused-applause subsides quickly, “Climb aboard, Baby.”

Lulu soon sucks her tit-milk, flattish boobs yielding a mouthful each. Lips dribble white at both corners.

Gertie explains apologetically that her real baby got her already; yanks up her two black-lace-top flaps.

Gina waves to the crewman and a curtain goes up revealing an X-cross, to which Lulu is led, crying. “No matter.” “We’ve got a punishment for Lulu now.” [Turns to Audience] “Lulu’s not a masochist, folks!”

Gertie is led to in front of the X-cross and Shocken gives her a short, ‘light,’ scary-looking cat o’ nine tails.

Gina starts to strap in Lulu. Turns her head back to volunteer “Tell Lulu what she’s being punished for…”

Gertie says, ‘It’s for being busty and yet needing to suck me’. Practice-strokes her short, swishing whip.

Shocken agrees, saying, “She only gives you an approximate explanation. Will have to do.” He shrugs with the whole top of his body in a European way, laughs; so does Gina and the wryly-amused audience.

Gertie starts in with ten-eleven whacks exactly to Lulu’s magnificent up-thrust breasts. “Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!” Both enormous boobs turn fiery red mottled with visible knot-marks. A dozen hard, smashing strokes to her armpits-round thighs-spread pussy-red ass: “Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!” Yanks knots popping out of cracks when stuck.

Lulu screams, “Aie”-yelps, next cries again, sobs pathetically, tears leak down un-wiped, panting, puffing.

“O.K., that’s enough.” Gina leads Gertie back to her seat where cheers make her bow first, palming cash.

[Lulu’s Viewpoint, continued]

‘My arms are being stretched out and I can’t wipe my mouth, which I know is drooling! Drops fall off my jaw and chin! How horrid! My legs, why is Gina spreading me open that awful way? Air wafts into me.

My large pink-tipped breasts, red whitish-tufted pussy, pale thunder-thighs, shaven curvy armpits, even my asshole, vulnerable… Luckily I can’t see past bright footlights. Couldn’t if my sight weren’t all blurry?’

[The audience’s saying “Ooh! Ahh!”…In a continuous wail: Spreadeagle-stretched Lulu can’t cringe, so she lowers her head somewhat, melts into moans, sobs.]

‘Shocken’s telling them, indicating me, that I’m hypnotized…Am I? …Meena caused my puncture-aches, not numbing unluckily but hurting awfully like doctor’s needles, coursing all through me like a throbbing freight-train. He warns that his “Show is a family performance but that tonight is Adult, a Special Guest-Star [Ha!] appearance by the renowned [!] Lulu Allhallo…” Whaps shatter my tits-thighs-my teeny belly…

Each stroke stings to my tits and pussy. Feel their killing impacts: Oh, can I somehow stand it…? Seeing my enormous orbs flattening, indenting and rebounding. A burning and throbbing starting but I take the ‘light’ flogger, it’s pounding-knots that get me…Why they’d give that bitch a cat o’ nine tails? Gertie’s ugly squinched face only arms-length away as she hits me! Her loose lacy black top flaps: No cleavage.’