The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

A few days later, Suzi got another job; this time it was a birthday party. Once again, she burst from a cake and did a slow striptease, winding up on the lap of the birthday boy, rubbing his crotch and talking dirty. “Did you get a lot of presents for your birthday, Eric?”

“Y-y-yes.”

Leaining close, “Suzi would like a present.” Unzipping his pants, “Won’t you give Suzi a big present?”

As before, all the other men could only stare, jaws agape, as Suzi proceeded to pull his cock out, stroke it to erection, and then fuck herself on it until creamy white come oozed from her cunt. They regained their composure, though, when she made herself available to them, and fucked her cunt, mouth, and ass with wild abandon. I watched the whole three-hour party. When we got home, I fucked her several times myself.

The news that a hot stripper was available for gang-banging spread quickly by word-of-mouth. A week later, Suzi was getting jobs every night. For the most part, the men at these parties were no longer surprised at what she would do; they had hired her specifically because she would do it, although her good looks didn’t hurt.

Three weeks after her first performance at the bachelor party, Suzi was consistently booked solid two weeks in advance. I raised the price from $500 a night to $750 and then to $1000. Business showed no signs of slowing. At six gigs a week (I gave her Sunday night to rest; we didn’t get many offers for that night anyway.) Suzi was earning me over $5000 a week. There were some expenses; the clothes Suzi had been wearing were left at the scene of each party as a souvenir.

Between getting royally fucked at each party and my personal use of her body at home, Suzi was orgasming an average of ten times a day. Her drug-trained body kept up admirably, her pussy always getting soaked for a cock and her mouth always eager to please. Always, she talked dirty to whoever was fucking her, because she knew that was the way to get the most come.

But only when she was aroused. And that was the kicker. When she wasn’t aroused, she was still Suzanne, and Suzanne was sullen and withdrawn. She was still willing to have sex, because she knew that sex would bring Suzi out, and allow her to escape the misery that was her life. And she never disobeyed me, in fear of what the consequences might be. (After all, I’d demonstrated them to her quite dramatically when she’d failed to have her ass lubricated. She knew the pain involved in a dry ass-fuck.) But in spite of her bitterness and despair, Suzanne persevered, and showed no signs of getting weaker.

I was frankly baffled by this. I’d expected the Suzanne personality to have died by now, sapped of its strength and its will to live by the continued slutty behavior of Suzi. But she hadn’t. Her will to go living in this miserable existence should have long since died, crushed by the degradation she suffered daily. Somewhere she was finding the strength to go on. Something was giving her hope. What, though?

I had been this mystery for several weeks when I finally chanced upon the answer, while I was sitting in my study one Sunday evening after an after-dinner use of Suzi. I was trying to fiure out exactly how much profit I’d made on her so far, which basically involved totalling up the expenses from all of our dates, including the drugs and clothes, and subtracting that number from the total income I’d made from the parties. The problem was that little expenses that I’d forgotten about popped into my mind from time to time, and I’d have to redo the whole calculation, figuring them in. Like that telescope I’d had to buy to spy on her at the very beginning. Things like that.

One such item was all the clothing catalogs I’d bought before meeting her. Scouting reports, as I thought of them, ascertaining how much exposure she’d gotten, and who I’d have to bribe to keep her from getting hired. Utterly useless now that she was mine, but they were still an expense. I glanced up to where the catalogs were collecting dust on the bookshelf...

...and noticed something was wrong. Counting them, I realized one of them was missing. I couldn’t tell which one, but I knew one of them was gone.

Where? If Suzanne had taken it, where would she have put it? The sounds of a porn video were coming from Suzi’s training room, so I knew she was in there studying. Quietly I walked down the hall to the bedroom and began to search Suzi’s things.

It was slow going, because I was being careful not to disturb anything permanently. I wasn’t sure yet whether I wanted her to know I was onto her, so I tried as best I could to leave things as I found them. An hour and a half later, after combing her closet and most of her makeup table, I finally found what I was looking for.

Hidden under the lining paper at the bottom of one of the drawers in the makeup cabinet was a catalog from a local department store from over a year ago. I picked it up and opened it. It fell open by itself to a page in the middle, clearly having been opened to this page many times before.

The page was dominated by a large photograph of a suburban kitchen. Sitting at the table was a handsome man in business clothes, wearing a tie and slacks. Two children, a boy and a girl, were running out the front door, lunchboxes in hand, waving to their mother, a strikingly beautiful woman in stylish business clothes that made her look competent and self-assured, yet very sexy. It was Suzanne.

I hadn’t even realized that it was her until that moment. I’d bought the catalog because of some swimsuit modeling she’d done in another section, and never given a second look at this picture. What did this mean?

It meant she still thought she could get away. She hoped that someday she could give me the slip, and escape to the outside world, find her Romeo and live happily ever after, or something like that. Maybe continue her career as a model. But that couldn’t happen, I thought... she needed the sex. She was addicted to it, and I was the only one who could give it to her.

The realization hit me suddenly. I wasn’t the only one! God, I’d been so stupid. At first, sure, when I’d been using the orgasm drug and only fucking her myself, sure, then I had been the only one who could give her what she needed. But since then, I’d trained her to enjoy having sex with other men, any men, and without the drug. Now, if she left me, she could easily find someone else to give her the regular fucking she needed. Sure, she had this thing about talking dirty during sex, but most men would like that. (After all, that was why I’d taught her to do it.) And she’d be in pain trying to walk without heels, but some physical therapy could take care of that. I’d turned her into a genuine slut, and had thus made myself vulnerable.

Maybe none of this had occurred to her. Maybe she’d stolen the catalog for some other, more trivial reason. But I had no way of knowing, short of confronting her, and I didn’t want to do that. I had to assume the worst, that she was planning to escape, waiting for her chance.

The thing to do, then, was cut off her escape route. Trap her in her new life as a slut, with nowhere else to run to. And I knew just how to do it. It would involve doing certain things earlier than I’d originally planned, but nothing I hadn’t already planned on doing and budgeted for. It was quite simple, really. Up until now, Suzi and Suzanne had been fighting for control of Suzanne’s body.

It was time to build a body for Suzi. The body of a slut.

The next morning, after giving Suzi her usual after-breakfast fucking, I announced that we were going to visit the doctor. Suzi was curious as to why. (Since I’d just fucked her, it actually was eager, slutty Suzi I was talking to, not depressed, unhappy, Suzanne.) I told her that I’d tell her in the car, and to hurry up and get dressed.

I’d laid out a new set of clothes for her, some that I’d bought late the night before. The amazing thing about them was that they were perfectly ordinary women’s clothes, of the sort that a young, middle-class wife might wear on the weekend, when going shopping. Aside from the extreme length of the heels on the pumps, there was nothing at all unusual about them.

Suzi came out of the bedroom wearing them, looking quite confused. She hadn’t worn clothes like these in months! I ushered her out the door to the car, giving her clitoris a quick rub to keep her excitement up. It was important that the eager, cooperative Suzi be in charge this morning.

As we drove, I had Suzi take periodic sips from a flask of water I had in the car. The water had been treated with the aphrodisiac. I had her drink it slowly over the course of the ride because I would need to have Suzi available for quite awhile.

“Now, then, slut,” I explained, “you want to know where we’re going?”

“Yes, Master, please. Suzi wants to know why she’s going to see the doctor. Will Suzi get to fuck the doctor?”

I laughed. “If you’re a good little slut. You want to be a good little slut, don’t you?”

“Oh, yes, master! Suzi tries hard to be the best slut she can be!”

I fought to keep from getting turned on. Every time I heard that eager, peppy voice talk about how much she craved sex, I got an urge to nail her. Which was generally what she wanted. But I couldn’t do it this morning. We had an appointment to keep. “You’ve been watching those other sluts on the videos I got, haven’t you?”

“Oh, yes. They get fucked a lot. Suzi wants to be as slutty as them.” She ended the sentence on a dejected note, unhappy with her lack of success. “Suzi tries as hard as she can, but she still doesn’t get as much come as they do.”

She was damn-well wrong about that, but I didn’t point it out to her. It was useful for her to think that. “Well, you are trying very hard, slave, but trying hard can only get you so far.”

She looked at me questioningly. It occurred to me that Suzi was substantially less intelligent than Suzanne. An unexpected effect, but certainly one I welcomed. Suzanne would’ve figured out what was going on by now.

I went on. “Some of those sluts in the videos have advantages over you—things that really aren’t your fault.”

She frowned, looking sad, but curious. “Are they prettier than Suzi?”

“No, they really aren’t. You’re a lot prettier than they are.” Which was true. Most porn actresses couldn’t hold a candle to Suzi in the looks department, and only a few were even close to being as pretty as she was. “It’s something else. It’s your tits.”

Her face took on a hurt look. “Suzi’s tits are too small?” She looked down at her boobs, pushing at the fabric of her dress, and caressed them curiously.

“Yes, my pretty little slut, but we can do something about it.”

She thought for a moment, then suddenly perked up. “Is that why we’re going to the doctor? To get Suzi bigger tits?” She looked at me, her face begging me to say it was so.

“Yes, Suzi, we’re going to get you bigger tits.”

“Oh, goody!” she squealed. “Suzi wants bigger tits so that she can squeeze them around her master’s cock and get lots of hot, sticky jism all over her face.”

“You’ll get it, Suzi, but today we’re just going to talk to the doctor. And there are certain rules you need to follow...”

After most of an hour’s drive, we arrived at a suburban office building. As we went inside, I whispered to Suzi, “Now, remember, agree to everything I say.”

“Yes, master,” she whispered, excited.

We took the elevator up to the office of a Dr. J. P. Green, plastic surgeon. I’d done some careful research on this guy. Green had given boob jobs to several popular porn actresses. I’d picked up as many videos featuring these women as I could find, from both before and after their operations. So far as I could tell, he’d done an excellent job every time.

I checked us in with the receptionist and we sat down to wait. I leafed through a advertising brochure full of “before” and “after” pictures. Suzi sat quietly next to me, smiling to herself and occasionally rubbing one of her nipples through her dress.

After about ten minutes, the doctor came out, greeted us, and showed us into his office. “What can I do for you two this morning?”

“Well, Dr. Green, Suzi thinks her breasts are too small, and she’s looking into getting some implants.” Thanks to a name change filed in court by mail a few weeks ago, Suzi’s name was official.

“All right. Let me show you what the options are.” For the next half hour, we looked through several books, as Dr. Green explained in detail what was available, and in what sizes. I did all the talking, and asking of questions; Suzi merely nodded and occasionally gave monosylabbic sounds of agreement. This didn’t seem to bother the doctor one bit.

After the fourth book of samples, I realized I wasn’t going to find what I wanted in any of the standard offerings, so I took the initiative. “Doctor, can you do something a bit unusual?”

“What did you have in mind?”

I took a pad of paper and a pen from his desk and drew a quick sketch of what I wanted, explaining as I went. When I was finished, Dr. Green picked up the paper and leaned back in his chair, looking at it thoughtfully. “This is going to cost a bit extra,” he said at last.

“How much?”

“Twenty-five thousand dollars.”

“Do you take personal checks?” I asked, pulling out my wallet.

The doctor smiled as I wrote out the check. He had Suzi sign some forms. “Now we need to schedule a surgery date. I have an opening three weeks from Tuesday...”

“Tomorrow,” I said.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. The...”

“Are you performing surgery tomorrow?”

“Well, yes, but this lady’s been waiting for a month. I can’t just...”

“Reschedule it,” I told him, handing him another check for twenty-five thousand dollars.

He looked at the check, eyes wide, then looked back at me and shrugged. “Okay. I’ve got some time scheduled at the hospital downtown. Come by at 8 a.m. This is going to take all day. I’ll have to build the implants tonight.”

“We’ll be there,” I said as we walked out the door. I wasn’t pleased about having to spend so much money to get the operation done quickly, but I really had no choice. Suzi was excited about the operation, but Suzanne would see it for what it was, a move toward imprisoning her in a slut’s body. With tits like the ones she was going to have after tomorrow, her chances of getting a conventional modeling job would be slim to none. If I’d agreed to wait three weeks for the operation, Suzanne would have had more than enough time to make an escape attempt, and the forthcoming operation would give her plenty of motivation to do so. With less than twenty-four hours to wait, though, I would have no trouble keeping her under control. Twenty-five thousand dollars wasn’t much to spend to protect what I’d already invested in my whore.

Suzi could barely contain her excitement as we walked out to the car. “Suzi’s going to have big, slutty tits!” she exclaimed, running her hands all over her nipples.

“Yes, you are, bitch,” I replied, getting into the car.

Suzi got in on the other side. “Suzi’s sluttly little cunt is so excited!”

I could stand it no longer. “Get in the back seat, slut,” I commanded.

“Yes, master!” she squealed, climbing into the back. “Is Suzi’s master going to stick his thick, hard cock up Suzi’s hot, juicy pussy?”

“You bet I am, whore!” I exclaimed, scrambling after her. “On your back!” Suzi lay on her back on the car seat, her legs spread and her heels planted firly on the car ceiling. She pulled her skirt up and closed her eyes expectantly.

Wasting no time, I unzipped my pants. My rock-hard cock sprang free, pointing at Suzi’s dripping snatch. I moved my body between my slut’s legs and rammed my stiff cock into her cunt.

Suzi responded in her usual enthusiastic way, bucking her hips at me as she squeezed my cock with her cunt, moaning with pleasure all the while. “Oh, fuck Suzi, master. Slam your hard cock deep into your whore’s pussy. This cock-craving bitch needs your come so bad... Yes! Shoot your jism into Suzi’s cunt!”

Suzi’s dirty talk pushed me over the edge. My cock throbbed as I shot my load into my eager little slut. She screamed as she came to her own orgasm, the pleasure overwhelming her as her cunt gripped my cock tightly, milking every last drop of come.

For the rest of the day, I kept Suzi as busy—and aroused—as possible. I’d cancelled her engagements for that night, and the next two, in order to give her plenty of rest for the surgery, as well as to make sure I got a good amount of use out of her new tits before they were made available to the general public. Since she wasn’t going to get gang-banged that night, I had to keep a close eye on her in order to make sure that Suzanne wouldn’t try to escape before the operation tomorrow.

I stayed near her all afternoon, coaching her while she practiced dancing. A couple days earlier, I had moved her up from five-inch heels to six-inch, and she was having some trouble learning to balance on the new shoes. The shame of it was that the progress she’d made since starting in the new heels was going to get wiped out by her operation. Her new breasts would shift her center of balance and force her to start all over again. No doubt a depressing experience for her. But since it was Suzanne, and not Suzi, who had put in all the effort learning to balance on the heels in the first place, I was more than happy to have all that effort wiped out. Maybe the bitch would go away after the operation.

After dinner, I gave her the usual after-dinner reaming, bringing her no end of enjoyment as she came to another screaming orgasm impaled on my cock. I stayed with her in the evening as she watched her nightly movie, tweaking her nipples or rubbing her clit occasionally to keep Suzi in charge. We went to bed early, and she fell asleep after I’d used her twice.

I woke her up early the next morning, keeping her aroused as we got ready to go to the doctor. Suzi again put on the flowery dress. I had her tie her hair in a bun and leave off the makeup. She was confused, but obeyed nonetheless. After a light breakfast, with enough of the aphrodisiac in Suzi’s orange juice to keep her aroused until the operation started, we drove to the hospital. Sui was quite excited, bouncing up and down the whole way, begging me to fuck her. Only when we had finally parked did I allow her to give me a blowjob. She dived in with her usual enthusiasm, and I shot my wad down her throat as she smiled contentedly.

Dr. Green greeted us at the door, and showed Suzi into the prep room. I was allowed to stay with her while she was being anaesthetized. She lay there, looking up at me, with the facemask covering her nose and mouth. Her eyes slowly narrowed as the anaesthetic took effect. As she slipped into unconcsciousness, I saw in her eyes not the worshipful, puppylike adoration of Suzi, but the cold bitterness of Suzanne. Hatred burned in those eyes as she stared at me. Slowly, they closed and she fell asleep.

I spent most of the rest of the day pacing in the waiting room. I grabbed lunch at a fast-food joint in the hospital basement. Finally, late in the afternoon, Dr. Green came out. “It’s done. She’s in the recovery room. You can go see her if you want. I’ve got to clean up, so I’ll meet you there in half an hour.” He gave me the room number and left.

I rushed eagerly to the recovery room and stormed inside, closing the door behind me. Suzi lay sleeping on the bed, a white sheet draped over her form. Eagerly, I pulled the sheet off of her chest. It was amazing.

Suzi’s small, pert chest had expanded like a pair of balloons. Where before there had been two firm little breasts there now stood a pair of mammoth globes of flesh. Suzi’s new tits stood firmly out from her body, begging for attention. But her nipples were mouthwatering. Her areolas stood further out from the flesh of her tits, pointing at the ceiling. Atop these brown cones stood erect nipples, fully a quarter inch in diameter.

Standard breast implants are designed to create volume, not projection. I wanted both. The design Dr. Green and I had come up with used two implants for each breast. A normal spherical implant gave volume, making Suzi’s tits round and firm. On top of this stood a smaller implant, which pushed the areola into a conical shape and thrust the nipples outward. The overall effect was a pair of breasts designed for fucking and sucking. They were quite obviously artificial, as was fitting for the tits of a slut.

I reached out and rubbed one of the nipples, rolling it between my fingers. Suzi moaned in her sleep. Bending over, I ran my tongue aroundit, simultaneously playing with her other nipple. God, it was so delicious.

Suzi woke and looked at me, and then at her chest. She squealed in delight. “Oh, Suzi’s tits are so big! Now Suzi can be a real slut!”

My jeans were threatening to burst. Moving quickly, I opened the bag I had carried in with me and pulled out a pair of Suzi’s fire-engine red six-inch heels. I slipped them quickly over her feet, covering them with the hospital blanket. She would need those later, and besides, she might have a hard time enjoying sex without them. Returning to the head of the bed, I unzipped my pants and thrust my cock into Suzi’s face. “Suck your master’s cock, slut, and I’ll fuck your new tits.”

Suzi eagerly took me into her mouth, running her tongue around my cock with a new eagerness. She gripped my shaft with one hand as her lips slid up and down its length. With her free hand, she rubbed one of her tits, moaning softly to herself.

I was hard in no time, and eagerly swung myself up on to the bed, sitting astride her stomach and laying my cock in the deep furrow between Suzi’s boobs. Her hands went to her tits and she squeezed them around my cock, rolling her nipples between her fingers. She squealed in pleasure as I slowly began to slide my lubricated cock back and forth between her tits. Suzi continued massaging my cock with her boobs, giving my cockhead a tickle with her tongue every time it thrust toward her mouth.

I concentrated on fucking her tits as I thought about what I’d accomplished. Suzi had had been acting like a slut for nearly a year now, almost since I’d met her. She had been dressing like a slut for most of that time, as well. And she’d been talking like a slut ever since she’d moved in about a month and a half ago. But up until the operation, it could have all been an act. Now it was real. Now she had the body of a slut. And there was no way Suzanne could escape that.

I fucked Suzi’s tits as hard as I could, slamming my cock in and out of the tight canyon between them. Suzi moaned louder and louder as her orgasm built. My cock exploded with pressure, and sticky strings of come shot from its tip onto Suzi’s lust-filled face. The familiar taste and feel of my come sent her over the edge into an intense orgasm.

She tried to gather as much of it up as possible and swallow it, but inevitably some of it dribbled into her hair. After I had recovered from my orgasm, I got off the bed and wiped off her face with some paper towels. She looked at me adoringly. “Can Suzi be as good a slut as the whores in the videos now?” she asked.

“Even better,” I responded, smiling and continuing to wipe my come off her face. Just as I was finishing, Dr. Green came in.

“Well, everything looks fine. Suzi, you can go tonight, if you’d like.”

“Yes, please,” Suzanne responded.

“Thank you doctor,” I said, “You did a great job.” Green shrugged modestly at this. I turned to Suzi. “Suzi, why don’t you thank Dr. Green, okay?”

Suzi smiled happily. Without a word, she got up from the bed, exposing her naked body, and strode across the room. Her heels clicked on the floor as her ass swayed from side to side. Her new tits jiggled slightly with the walk. Green’s jaw dropped.

Suzi stopped in front of him and sunk to a crouch in front of his pants. Deftly unzipping his fly, she pulled out his soft, but rapidly hardening cock. “Oooooh, Dr. Green, can Suzi suck your cock?” she asked innocently, looking up at him with a pleading expression.

“G-go ahead.,” he responded. Suzi wasted no time wrapping her lips around Dr. Green’s shaft.

“I’ll be in the waiting room,” I announced. “Have her back to me in half an hour, okay, doc?”