The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

William Cullen, the owner of the Pleasure Bunnies Corporation, sat in a private booth at the Gentleman’s, and increasingly less than occasionally, and Lady’s Club somewhere deep in the bowels of the clandestine site where people were brought to be brainwashed, reprogrammed, and sold for profit.

William, who was normally bored with such activities, when you run the place you get your pick of the girls, sat in his private booth with Patrice, a French-African businessman looking to purchase his first Pleasure Bunnie. He had been recommended by one of the corporation’s original European contacts and so far had proved to be the kind of man William enjoyed working with. Patrice was thoughtful and took his time thinking through this expensive purchase. Too many buyers get blown by a Bunnie on night one and jumped on the first pair of E cups they see the next morning.

Patrice nibbled at the ends of his salad. The scion of a large and very famous football team in Europe, he had the money and lifestyle, but did not have the woman he desired. He loved American girls, but did not want to go through the time and energy of dating and marrying some pop star or daughter of the wealthy. The opportunities offered here gave him choice and did not require a lot of effort on his part. The best of both worlds surely for him. Politics were in his future, and he needed a beautiful, devoted, piece of arm candy to help launch his career.

“So,” William began as he finished his own meal, gesturing positively towards their waitress, “what do you think?” Below them, 10 Bunnies danced in cages or on stage. Another six were currently sitting on couches with potentials buyers, flirting and serving as was the goal and point of their existence.

“I do like what I see, some more than others.” He waved towards a Bunnie in a cage. “I love how focused they are,” he paused and watched William stare over at the girl as well, “on their duties.”

“It is the reason they live.” William watched the girl in the cage again. “They are brainwashed and all distractions are taken away. They live for pleasure, but especially to give pleasure. Some are vibrant and enthusiastic, and others are mindless and respond only to instruction.” He looked over at Patrice and grinned. “What your Bunnie is like will be up to you.”

Two Pleasure Bunnies, one a redhead, the other a platinum blond, walked by the cage they had been staring at and William smiled as he saw them catch Patrice’s eye. Out of the pocket of his blazer, he pulled out a remote, toggled a few settings, and remoted the Bunnies to come up to their booth. In unison, the Bunnies stopped what they were doing and pivoted to head up the stairs, platform heels clicking up the stairs as they ascended to the booth. The girl came to them and curtsied in unison.

The first girl was a Russian woman named Olga with flowing, beautiful, red hair and a passive smile on her face. William had...encountered...her a few times before and he gave the bubble butted, curvy, in a tiny miniskirt, tube top, and platform heels a polite nod that made the Bunnie smile a little more.

The other, the one that Patrice had noticed, was a platinum blond named Ariel. Ariel was short, but her oft-augmented breasts distracting from her height. The girl, a former dominatrix, had been on site for about six months since “graduating” high school. She had been given the complete “American Doll”, as a buyer once put it, look that many buyers desired: Platinum blond hair, a sun-kissed tan, beach ball sized breasts, and a vacant, deeply eager to please, attitude and appearance. Ariel only knew one purpose: To please. She looked at both men, one at a time, with an eager and cheerful look on her beautiful face.

William motioned for Olga to stand back a little bit, which the girl obediently did. Ariel took a step forward, beautiful smile on her face, and stared directly at her controller. “Dear, how is your evening going? Are you being good?”

Ariel smiled proudly. “Yes, Master.”

William looked over at Patrice, who had a familiar, rather intrigued, expression on his face. The owner of the Pleasure Bunnies Corporation had seen this look numerous times before. He turned back to Ariel, shifting his glance momentarily to Olga, who still smiled at him, patiently waiting for the beloved man who had captured and brainwashed her while he quizzed Ariel, “Has anyone rented you for this evening yet?”

Ariel slowly nodded negatively. “No, Master.” Her beautiful eyes shone in the lights from the stage below them as they cascaded around the room.

Patrice looked at the girl curiously. William pointed towards her. “She is currently programmed to only answer ‘Yes, Master/Ma’am,’ or ‘No, Master/Ma’am.”

William’s friend squinted at him and then towards the girl. “Can that be reversed?” He looked nervous; clearly he wanted something more than just an automaton lovedoll. William made a note of that in his mind.

“Of course it can,” William confirmed, “but it is a fairly popular standard programming setting. We place on site Bunnies not assigned to a specific division or facility with random programming like that on a week by week basis so potential buyers can see a wide variety of possible parameters for their purchase.” He paused and pulled his phone out of the blazer pocket again. “If this was,” he stopped to confirm, “two days ago, she would have been under a different set of programming.”

Patrice stared at the girl longingly, obviously running many thoughts through his mind. William nodded to him, trying to encourage him to ask the girl a question. “Do you enjoy...” Patrice slowly asked, “...your...job?”

Ariel beamed proudly. “Yes, Master.” She stared at him adoringly, automatically attuned to a new potential controller.

Patrice looked at William, confused by being called Master, but William put up a hand. “She will address everyone, like I said, as Master/Ma’am unless they are identified otherwise. It makes things a lot easier and encourages their good behavior.” He smiled towards Olga, who blushed deeply on her pale face.

“I...see that...” Patrice looks thoughtful for a moment and then turned to William. “Surely, there is some abuse of that?”

Laughing, William waved a hand towards Ariel. “Funny you say that. Ariel here was a budding Dominatrix who abused her powers. She was neglectful towards her slaves, we frown upon that, and pissed us off a lot. She needed correction badly and is now a very good girl,” he looked up at her, “aren’t you, Ariel?”

Again, Ariel smiled proudly. “Yes, Master.”

Patrice stared at the girl, clearly smitten with her obedient smile. “So,” he turned to William, “they can be programmed to fulfill whatever my needs are?”

“Yes, whatever body type, fetishes, value system, and behavior you want can be permanently programmed in or available to you as you need them. The level of customization you desire is up to you. Some buyers want something permanent, craving routine or fulfillment of a specific fetish. Others want—”

Patrice put a hand up before William could finish speaking. “I have something fairly specific in mind.” He waved at Ariel. “This one is rather lovely looking, but I am not certain if she is preciously the girl, the Bunnie, for me?”

William stood up and motioned for his friend to join him. He pulled the remote out of his blazer pocket again and pushed a few buttons on it. Ariel blinked a few times and started, empty faced, straight ahead at him. “Ariel, dear, why don’t you join Patrice for this evening? Go out to dinner and then enjoy the rest of the night together.” He leaned into her and mischievously whispered to the girl. “Make sure you show him a good time!”

Ariel eagerly nodded her compliance. “Yes, Master.” She turned towards Patrice and extended her tanned arm to him. “Master, please allow Ariel to please you tonight.” Patrice stood up, shook William’s hand again, and followed the Pleasure Bunnie to dinner.

William watched them for a moment, smiled to himself, and sent off a text message to a selected group announcing the likelihood that Ariel would be going home with Patrice. After answering a few other messages that had come in during dinner, William looked up to find Olga had sat down next to him. “Hello, Master,” she began, a slight Russian accent still coming out of the girl’s husky voice. Olga had grown up in the former Soviet Union and come over after her homeland became Russia. The thirty year old had been kidnapped in a general sweep of a financial firm that had fucked over a loyal client of the Pleasure Bunnie corporation. William had taken a liking to Olga almost immediately and they spent some time together when possible. She was one of a select group of Bunnies he kept his eye on. His attention did wane, so Olga worked hard to keep him occupied with her.

Olga put a hand on William’s pants and kissed him hard. Master and slave made out for a minute before Olga snuggled up to him. “Olga would have waited all night, Master.”

William kissed the red haired beauty’s hair and embraced her tightly again. “You are a good girl, Olga.” Her manicured hand ended up on the bulge in his pants, gently stroking it up and down. William put a finger on her head, which made the girl stop immediately. “Let’s take this somewhere else.” He thought for a moment. “How about you go get dressed for a nice romantic dinner back at my apartment?”

Olga smiled and leaned in for a kiss. “Yes, Master.” William gave her a little wave as she stood, breasts bouncing, and swayed away from him. He stared after her for a long moment before calling over the nearest Bunnie to command her to let anyone who needed to know that he was retiring for the evening. Olga was a very good girl. It was time to give her some space in the apartment for her visits.

Patrice was thrilled with the results of his purchase of Ariel. After their rendezvous that evening, Patrice had put in a bid to purchase her the next morning. A few weeks had passed, long weeks which he spent distracting himself with work, while Ariel was reprogrammed, modified, and otherwise trained to fit his desires. In that time, he had been in touch with Cynthia, William’s beautiful assistant, on a daily basis. The stunning brunette had come in early each morning to, due to the time difference, update him via a live feed with the details of Ariel’s reprogramming.

Upon the completion of Ariel’s reprogramming, Cynthia had escorted Patrice to the viewing room where Ariel was being displayed for him. The medium height and busty brunette, whose name “Cynthia” hung from the collar around her beck, was dressed rather professional, for this place anyhow, in a brown pencil skirt, white turtleneck, and matching black pumps and stockings. She was pleasant and quite knowledgeable about the matter at hand. At the door the viewing room, the brunette swiped a key card over an invisible lock and the door opened with a swoosh noise. Cynthia waved to Patrice and walked away to return to her duties.

Patrice stood in the door way for a long moment taking in the perfect angel before him. Ariel stood at casual attention, eyes empty, staring straight ahead at nothing. The Pleasure Bunnie had been molded into his ideal girl. Like many men, he loved the All American look. His property stood in tall platform sneakers, tiny pink socks housing her shapely legs, a pair of pink booty shorts, and an extremely tight white tank top that had great difficulty holding her breasts.

She was perfect. He stood in front of her, watching the stunning girl’s eyes refuse to move. Ariel would remain here forever if he did not command her to move. Patrice could stand there forever staring at her, but he actually wanted to enjoy the girl as well. He fumbled the remote and stared it for a moment, hoping he remembered the instructions. Sure of himself, he pushed a button combination and took a step back.

A second passed before Ariel blinked a few times and came to life. She looked around, the smile never leaving her face, and made eye contact with Patrice. “Master!” she exclaimed to him, bouncing into his waiting arms. Master and slave held onto each other for a long time before finally Patrice pulled away.

Ariel curtsied low, her tank top revealing seemingly miles of cleavage, and she announced that her only reason to live was pleasing him. The Pleasure Bunnie was dressed in platform sneakers, tight booty shorts, and a practically sprayed on shirt. Patrice’s new fiance would be his perfect American fantasy girl, head over heels in love with him. His political ambitions would be pushed forward by the knockout on his arm.