The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Choose Your Own Transformation: Treasure Trove of Wonder Untold

SYNOPSIS:

Jacob has heard of the transformative power of the Weaver’s Choose Your Own Adventure tales and tries his luck at recreating his ball busting girlfriend into something more palatable.

DISCLAIMERS:

This story is a work of fiction; any apparent resemblance between the characters in this story and any actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental and unintentional.

Do not read this story if you are under the age of 18 or if explicit sexual fiction is illegal in your jurisdiction.

This story contains mind control and explicit descriptions of a sexual nature. If any of these concepts disturb you, please find something else to read.

This story is a work of erotic fantasy. It is not meant to reflect real life, nor should it be read as an endorsement of the actions and attitudes contained within.

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

Many CYOA paths. This just happens to be the one Voltaire chose by selecting from the options I presented. For more stories, and to support even more stories, please consider my Patreon.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

I’m pretty sure whoever coined that phrase also dated Abigail Williams.

This is what I know about the site, or at least, what I’ve heard. It’s magic and can change your entire life.

So yeah. I’m desperate enough to seek out a magic website to ease my relationship woes.

Abigail is just never satisfied. If I were referring to the bedroom, I wouldn’t need magic. Everything I do is criticized and never good enough for her. We have brief moments of being on the same page when she shows the kindness that made me interested in the first place, but those moments are now few and far between. We’re nearing the point in the relationship where I just have to walk away… for my own sanity. But, when she smiles, I melt. I’m putty in her hands. Her milky white skin. Her bright green eyes. Her dark red hair. Every part of her checks a “yes, please” box, but her attitude.

I’m a good, kind dude. I work out semi-regularly and stay in decent shape. I treat her with gifts and compliments. Most women would love a relationship with me, but I want a relationship with Abigail. A better one, though, than the one we currently have. I’m sick of being under her thumb.

I click the link to the website, prepared for the momentary ill feeling that seems to accompany the visit.

As the screen settles, the list of potential “adventures” appears:

  • Building a Better Relationship
  • Inflation!
  • Invaders of the Nether Realm
  • Journey to Uranus
  • Mystery of the Grand Tetons
  • One Perfect Date
  • Prisoner of the Master
  • Slice of Heaven
  • The Cave of Remaking
  • The Curse of the Pink Cookie
  • The Dame That Came
  • The Lost Canal
  • The Secret of the Box
  • Treasure Trove of Wonder Untold
  • (more)

I select Treasure Trove of Wonder Untold, then enter my name, Jacob Mason, when prompted.

Are you both over 18?

Yes

No

Awesome. Abigail is sleeping in the next room over, but she’s still close enough for the system to recognize her presence. I eagerly click yes.

From here on out, all of the sections will end with multiple options to continue.

Do you understand?

Yes

No

I impatiently click yes.

To which gender do you identify:

Female

Male

After clicking “male,” the screen on my computer ebbs and flows as expected. The feeling of seasickness it imparts departs reasonably quickly and I start to read.

The seas are rough and shake the ship ceaselessly. You’re lucky this isn’t your first voyage on the Black Diamond. As the ship’s first mate, the captain values your input. Your instincts for treasure have never given him reason to doubt you. There’s always a first time to create doubt, you think, as you discover the girl secreted amongst the supplies.

“Please,” she cries to you. “I just need to escape. Please don’t report me.”

Her pleas seem earnest and desperate.

You’ve also been on a ship surrounded by men, so her appearance raises more than your eyebrows and interest. Her clothes are peasant class and torn to appear barely there. Her eyes are red from crying, but otherwise green as emeralds. Her skin is deeply sun-kissed.

Jacob, do you—

Report the stowaway to the captain

Secret her away to your cabin

I try to think through the ramifications of the choice.

If I turn her over to the captain, she’s out of my hair, but where does the story go? Where does MY story go?

If I keep her to myself, she’s still mine.

That seems like the better option

I select—Secret her away to your cabin.

Abigail walks into the room and I brace for the usual shitstorm. I’m even tempted to just shut my computer to avoid any potential scrutiny. But, she merely walks to the kitchen. From inside, I hear her call out, in a friendly tone, “You want a beer or something?” This is the first time my girlfriend has offered to do anything for me in as long as I can remember. Yes, when it’s been that long, even the simple offering of a beer feels monumental. On the off chance this magic website has had a hand in this, I continue reading.

You escort the stowaway down the corridor.

“Thank you, sir. Thank you.” She says and you shush her.

She continues, despite the shushing, “My name is Abigail and I—“

You push her up against the wall behind her. “You need to be quiet, Abigail. You get caught at this point and we’re both in for some nastiness.”

She nods.

Not three steps later she begins to speak again.

“I appreciate—“

Jacob, do you—

Cut your losses and walk away from her

Get even more physical than before

Cut my losses? It’s like the story universe is trying to give me an out on my relationship. An out I don’t want.

I select—Get even more physical than before.

Abby extends a beer to me. I regard the bottle and then her. “What is this?”

“I thought you wanted a beer…” She says. She avoids eye contact, eyes glued to the floor below.

“A beer. A BEER. This is shit beer at best. If I wanted piss in a bottle, I would’ve asked for piss in a bottle. Did I ask for piss in a bottle?”

She starts to shake. “S-s-sorry. I didn’t know…”

“I think that’s problem number one. I think you tried to think. That’s not your strong suit, Abby. Isn’t that right?”

“That’s right, Jacob.”

“Now, if we don’t have a stout or a porter in the fridge, who is going to run to the store to get some?”

“I am.”

“Good girl.”

I turn away from her and back to the computer. I feel her standing there, uncertain, then she walks away. For a brief moment, I wonder when I first started calling her Abby. Some nagging feeling inside of me wants to say that she never liked being called by anything than her full name. And she never cowered before me. Weird….

You press the wench hard against the wall, pulling on her hair to expose her ear to your enraged whisper. “When I say be quiet, it isn’t a point of debate. You do what I say if you want to live. Do you understand?”

The fear in her eyes is directed at me now. She’s smart enough to know not to answer aloud. She just shakes her head in the affirmative.

The rest of the walk to your cabin is accomplished in silence.

You catch a lucky break and avoid being spotted.

The hard decision is here though. You’ll be at sea for upwards of a month. How can you best keep her hidden for the duration?

Jacob, do you—

Cut her hair, bind her breasts, and dress her like a boy

Never let her leave the cabin

Who would want a “boy” when you could have a prisoner?

I select—Never let her leave the cabin.

Things with Abby have been great since we jointly decided all decisions should be made by me. I decide how she acts, how she thinks, how she speaks. She was relieved to yield control to me and our relationship couldn’t be better. She seems exceedingly happy and I don’t think it’s solely because I command her to be happy. I think it comes from a place of acceptance. Her accepting me as her master has given her the freedom to just be, free from dilemma and doubt. She’s in the bedroom now, as I commanded, edging until I finish this story. As such, I take my time to let her fully surrender to the delicious torture.

The high seas are fraught with immeasurable peril, but you successfully negotiated them and your cabin lady from going noticed. Safely to port, you are able to bring her back to land. Of course, her silence continues. After a month of only speaking in whispers, and even then, only when allowed, has made her seem much more reserved than when you first found her that fateful day. You’ve even taken quite a shine to this taciturn version of the woman. You have enough money to quit your seafaring life and settle down, but you might miss the adventure.

Jacob, do you—

Start a new life with the woman on shore

Sell her and return to the ship

I’m not one for slavery, in fiction or reality.

I select—Start a new life with the woman on shore.

Abigail and I have finally found a balance to our relationship. She doesn’t always defer to me, but it’s all-encompassing when she does. The sex is magical. She’s grown so fond of going down on me, she’ll even do so without me asking. Out in the world beyond our walls, she’s happily her own woman, most likely controlling everyone she comes across. Here, in our apartment, I’m king and my world is law.

She walks in with a six-pack of stout in hand. “Thought you might like a beer.”

“I’d like one served to me.”

“Yes, sir!” She says excitedly, setting the six-pack down for a moment.

She removes her blazer first. Then unbuttons the blouse beneath. She unzips her skirt and lets it fall to the floor. The length keeps her garters hidden to the rest of the world. This sight is for me and me alone. She leaves her shoes on. She always leaves her shoes on. She knows it’s a turn on for me to see her strut across the room in panties, bra, stockings, and heels.

She gets on her knees and presents me with the beer.

I start to drink the beer as she starts to drink me.

I’ll finish the beer first because she likes to tease and her amusement at it entertains me enough to permit it. She likes to swirl her tongue around my cock’s tip and look up at me with those sparkling green eyes. She likes to see just how long she can keep at it before I grab the back of her head, a clear nonverbal signal that I’m ready to pump down her throat.

When I’m done, and when she’s done licking me clean, I reach over to the side of my laptop and produce the ring box. I reveal it to her and her eyes go wide in utter surprise. “Abigail Williams, will you do me the honor of letting me make an honest slut of you?”

She leaps into my lap. “Yes, sir!” she proclaims repeatedly, covering my neck and face with kisses.

When she pauses, I look at her sternly. “I’m going to need another beer.”

“Yes, sir!” She leaps up to grab me another beer. I see the wiggle of her tush and need something else.

“…and that ass…”

“Yes, sir!”

My two favorite words—words that changed my entire life.