The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Kylie woke up Saturday feeling liberated. Being a lover was much better than being a fighter. No matter how evil the Foundation could be, the Pretties themselves were clearly on the side of good.

Kylie truly felt like a lovely little angel, knowing no distrust or hatred for the customers. They could touch her any way they wanted, but that was because resistance came from danger. From hatred. And hatred didn’t exist in the little patch of Paradise that was the Coppelia. She could be a sweet little slut because she was safe and provided for. In a perfect world, resistance wouldn’t be necessary. Every woman would be like a Pretty. Every man too, for that matter. No more violence, just love. Wasn’t that what poets write about?

“In hindsight” she thought out loud, “I was just resisting the ideal life. Marcellus Wallace was right. Fuck pride.”

She still feared the Streamlining because it meant losing her own name, her birthright. But she was okay with its ultimate goal. She still had a day of loving before the big leap. And she had every intention of enjoying it.

She took her beauty session a bit more seriously this time. She even applied hair conditioning for it to shine a bit. She also applied colorless gloss to her lips. Her imposed narcissism felt natural, especially now that love had engulfed her whole being.

As for clothing, Kylie chose the jacket and tube top combo she wore on Tuesday. She didn’t need to show that much flesh to be a good Pretty for the customers.

She went to the Park minutes before the opening. She kissed and fondled Alyssa, but what happened right after felt much more intimate. Her girlfriend looked into her eyes, and gave a smile warmer than ever before.

She could see that Kylie had accepted her loving nature. Words were unnecessary. They both, in fact, remained silent until the door opened.

To her surprise, the first customer was accompanied by a woman.

“Hey,” whispered Kylie. “Come to think of it, there weren’t any women the last three days. I was beginning to wonder why they made us bi. Aside from, you know, each other.”

“There are female customers,” replied Terri. “But they cannot book a Pretty garden where there’s a non-Streamlined Pretty. God knows why.”

“But if they’re denied entry, why is she here?”

“She must be a slave.”

Oh.

Kylie looked at the woman. She had short hair and casual clothes, but porn star tits, and a happy, remarkably vacant expression. The man’s arm was wrapped around her waist.

Furthermore, she recognized the man.

“Kylie Heisenberg.” He stated with a wicked, angry grin.

“Thomas Carlyle. Long time no see, shitstain, Sir.”

“You know this man? First time seeing him.” Asked Christina.

“Yeah. He’s the head honcho of Paradise Island. That girl’s a slave alright.”

“Well,” Carlyle snarled, “Dumb broads have to know their place. And speaking of dumb broads, Heisenberg, You’re more of a scatterbrain than I thought.”

“How’s that?”

“This is not “long time no see”. We talked last week. About the terms of your surrender. Ring a bell, slut?”

“No. To be honest, the days leading to my kidnapping are rather hazy. And I sure don’t remember any surrendering.”

“Well, no matter. The Prettier World Foundation obviously got to you before the deadline. Happy?”

“I was getting to that, actually, before your shit-eating face showed up.”

“Well, I resent my competition for depriving me of the pleasure of breaking you, but as long as I can see you with proper female behavior, I can live with it.”

The wake-up call was as severe as it was effective. The thick blanket of love and gentleness had been thrown out by Kylie’s memories of her run-in with Carlyle. She sure as shit wasn’t in love with that guy. Still...

He walked up to her and grabbed her shoulders, pushing them down. Unable to resist, Kylie buckled and knelt, only to be treated to a show of him dropping his pants.

“Go ahead, Pretty. Worship with those funbags of yours.”

Violence was out of the question. It would only show the slaver how broken she was. Non-compliance was still an option, but would probably lead him to be even more forceful, so...

“The customer is always right, Sir.”

Kylie removed her tube top and wrapped the slaver’s shaft with her tits. It was shameful to serve and obey that bastard, but truth was, obeying was the absolute best answer. In her state, she would satisfy his wish to humiliate her no matter what. Might as well be a slut and draw some enjoyment out of this.

So, she began to please him. It felt great. The pleasure radiating from her oversized boobies once again dulled her resolve. The memories of Paradise Island prevented her to be entirely thrown back into love and acceptance, but, well, she WAS titfucking him.

“You’re obviously holding back, slut, but you know you cannot resist, do you? I can’t cum from such an half-assed titjob, but I’ll be magnanimous. You can fuck one of your sister slaves.”

Kylie actually looked up to Carlyle and smiled, briefly overcome with relief. She was allowed to sate his desire and loving one of her sisters at the same time!

Then it dawned on her that the look in her eyes was what he was after. And indeed, he grinned sardonically.

“But you’ll be submitting to her.”

The tomboy was dumbstruck. Not because of how humiliating it was, but rather of how it was not. Submitting to another Pretty? No big deal, she was in love with them. Playful sexual submission felt okay. When servicing the slaver’s dick, at least she had her inner resistance. But servicing a sister...She wanted it.

And when she looked behind her, seeing the other Pretties, she felt so much love, gratitude and need to reassure them. She couldn’t show them doomed resistance again. They wanted her to be their sister, and who was she to defy them?

She knew that she couldn’t deny Carlyle his victory. She crawled over to Selena and looked at her in the eyes.

“Please allow me to grant our customer’s wish, Mistress.”

The redhead brushed her cheek and smiled warmly. Kylie was so courageous. Soft, sexy, but it takes courage to submit.

“Don’t worry, you’ll love this.”

—

And love this she did.

Twenty minutes later, she was in Selena’s room, treating Thomas Carlyle to a sapphic BDSM show. The sultry Pretty had tied up her arms behind her back expertly, constricting her large breasts in light but nonetheless inescapable bondage.

Sitting in a chair in the middle of the rather...thematic room, the walls of which were lined up with whips, ropes and riding crops, the slaver was getting serviced by his slave while watching Selena making a slave out of Kylie Heisenberg.

The woman who had once wiped out half of his security detail and escaped the island no woman ever left with her freedom before.

She was tied up, getting hot wax poured on her by the redhead, getting the occasional spank, but mostly she was getting plundered by Selena’s strap-on.

And she was enjoying it.

“Do you want more, Kylie?”

“Yes! Yes mistress!”

“Then beg.”

“Spank me! Fuck me harder, please!”

A bit too much for his tastes.

Sure, seeing a woman in ecstasy was exciting in every regard, and Kylie was utterly conquered by the need for pleasure, but part of him felt it was too easy. She had eased up considerably once he told her to get dominated by a Pretty.

But he really couldn’t take her himself. He was much too accustomed to his own, thoroughly customized females. A Pretty just wasn’t enough to get him off.

He had clearly underestimated the Foundation, though. A free-range pet, even a tough subject, becoming this docile in a bit over a week...Those guys had talent, for sure.

“Alright, no use holding the hostage, I guess...Come on, fionaslave. We’re out of here.”

“Yes Master.” Said the slave in singsong.

Selena and Kylie were still going at it, barely aware of Carlyle’s departure, or of his parting words for that matter. It wasn’t until the former mercenary climaxed in the mix of pleasure and tenderly inflicted pain that they noticed he was gone.

“Oh, hey, your Paradise Island dude bailed.”

“Good for him. Shut up and kiss me, “mistress”.”

They both lightly giggled and Selena kissed her before untying the ropes.

“Don’t you dare pretend you faked getting off of this, Ky.”

“Oh, I won’t. Sure, I went into it to get this bastard out of my face, but...yeah, it felt great! That’s a different game than usual, but...You know, interesting. I Just have to get off all this fucking wax.”

“Sorry about that sis, just use my shower.”

“Thanks, Sel.”

As she felt the hot water running on her hairless skin, Kylie was feeling great. She dodged a bullet there. Carlyle had almost made her plunge back into resistance. Made her go back to the cold streets and the burning rage. To the sharp echo of guns firing and screams of pain dying in hot gurgles. But now it was all right again. She was all right again, a wonderful warm feeling in her heart and a smile on her face. She played with her nipples a bit as the wax washed off, letting cute moans out. Her thoughts went back to the poor slave. Her eyes were so empty. Devoid of any self-awareness. Kylie knew what Paradise Island was like. She saw a colleague being processed under her very eyes. But though it did revolt her, that memory did not made her stray from her own path this time. Because it made her glad to be a Pretty instead of a slave. She was not forced to discard her personality and sense of self. She was being reformed. Made into a kind girl. A better being.

“I’m so glad the Foundation took me first...”

—

“Yeah, I’m thinking maybe more of a neutral color? Like silvery grey?”

“Red is definitely too hard on the eyes.”

Kylie was lying on the grass, holding her tablet over her head. Alyssa’s warm body nestled against her. A perfect moment. Free of any concerns, the cries of pleasure of their sisters as a background, she was browsing the room makeovers.

“The default, large bed is nice but hey, maybe it’s the occasion to try a water bed.”

“Hm? I dunno my love, I think I’ll always be kinda scared of it breaking off while I make love to a customer.”

“A customer, or me?”

Alyssa giggled, and they kissed.

“Your room should have some kind of wild side to it though”, said the blonde sweetheart.

“Yeah, of course. Maybe a Blazing Warriors poster will fit nicely. They’ll love it, at least. But anyway, the pink color scheme just has to go. Here, silvery grey ordered. Bam.”

“He he!”

“What?”

“I’m just glad to see you happy, my love.”

“Well, it’s just like you said, right? Our souls are balls of loving feelings...”

“...that wants to get out.”

“Oh, come ON! I can’t believe we did the “lovers completing each other’s sentences” thing!”

She put her tablet aside.

“You’re right, though. I’m looking forward to it now.”

“The Streamlining?”

“Yeah, I want to be your true sister. To live here.”

“Of course you do,” said Alyssa, stroking her hair. “An angel belongs in Heaven.”

“Huh...Excuse me?”

Kylie unlocked her eyes from Alyssa’s. A young man was standing over them. Such an age was unusual, maybe he was some kind of heir. At any rate, he wasn’t bad looking but his nerves were obviously a wreck.

“I’d like to hire you two please?”

Kylie got up.

“Big chests turning you on, Sir?”

“Uuuuh...You could say that, ma’am.”

“Come on” she said, taking gently his hand and putting it on her tube top. “I know I look scary, but I don’t bite.”

She smiled.

“Unless you want me to.”