The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The doctor’s visits declined over time. He came less and less often to give Natalie her treatments. Maybe it was because she was almost done. Maybe it was she was nearly completely transformed. Maybe it was because she had stopped having her periods. Her body had been so radically changed.

If the new her and old were ever to have met, Natalie would never have been able to recognize herself

The food kept getting restocked in the kitchen by “Tommy” and the others. Her toiletries were replaced as well. Make-up, too. And every morning, Natalie found a new pad of paper and pencils with which to work. Before she went to sleep at night, she would fill that pad. She drew as if a demon possessed her. Considering the nature of her circumstances, it was not entirely impossible one did.

One morning Natalie woke feeling an irresistible urge to collect all her drawings and put them together in a binder. She tried to put on some clothes before she did so, but the first impulse was too strong, and even when she had completed her task she found she couldn’t follow through with her earlier decision.

Binder in hand, she came to stand in the middle of the apartment’s living room, waiting, naked, clad only in a pair of extremely high stilettos.

She didn’t need to wait very long.

The door opened, and “Tommy” was standing there, smiling at her. “Well, look at you. All set and ready to fuck, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” Natalie said. Through painful and humiliating lessons, she knew by now that she had to respond to each and every one of “Tommy”’s inquiries, even the rhetorical ones. She lowered her eyes.

Partially, she did so because he expected it of her. At the same time, she lowered her eyes because she was embarrassed. She was “all set and ready to fuck.”

He approached her, then examined her close-up. She shuddered under the weight of his gaze. Her breasts—so enormous now—felt heavier whenever he ogled them. He put his hands on her and felt her, causing her to moan irresistibly. She was overcome with a burning sexual desire, a need to have him inside her, to suck him, to fuck him. When he had done this to her earlier, she had tried to resist.

Now, it was all she could do not to rub herself against him, begging for penetration.

She hated his sick smile. He let go of her tits and tapped her forehead. “All that’s left to do is right up here. Come on, slut. Let’s finish you off.” He turned to the door and beckoned her to follow him.

Natalie’s hands shook.

Leave? She was leaving? Finally? Her feet were following him before she could fully rationalize the storm of emotions passing through her. Outside in the hallway “Tommy” met up with his crew, a trio of brutal-looking toughs just like him. By now, Natalie knew each of them intimately.

Along with the four men, Natalie was surprised to see two other girls. Like herself, they were sluttishly, balloonishly beautiful: ludicrously extreme exaggerations of the female form, naked, of course, with melon-sized tits; puffy, cock-sucking lips; perpetually moist and swollen sex organs; and long, braided blond hair that fell all the way to their curvy, bouncy behinds. The three of them could have been sisters, they had been turned into living sexdolls so closely alike. They might have come off an assembly line. One of the men patted Natalie on the ass. She yelped and was told to join the other living dolls.

Where are they taking us? she questioned silently. What’s going to happen to us now?

She wanted to be fucked so badly. Part of her, a dark part of her, was wishing they would rape her.

The group went down the hall, and “Tommy” went into the next apartment. He came out moments later with Natalie’s neighbor, the black woman she had seen earlier. Natalie gasped as she saw what had been done to her. She too had undergone a radical sexualized transformation, though one of a type dissimilar to that which had been accomplished with her and the two blond, white sluts behind her.

Her neighbor had been rendered totally, completely hairless. Her bald pate gleamed. In point of fact, her dark skin shone all over as if she had been dipped in molten plastic, as if she were wearing an all-encompassing, semi-transparent body stocking.

Her belly, her arms, legs, all of her glowed as if with an internal heat.

There were points of similarity. Like Natalie, the poor transformed woman—now a sexdoll of another marketing type, it seemed, another brand—had the same monstrously large breasts; the same embarrassing blow-job lips; the same exaggerated, perpetually inviting genitalia.

As a whole, they moved to the next apartment on that floor, and soon a fifth woman, also black and rendered hairless and perpetually glistening, joined them. Their terrified eyes spoke volumes.

They went downstairs.

On the elevator down, Natalie was in a position where she could observe the two African-American dolls. For a brief instant, they clutched hands fervently. They know one another, Natalie concluded.

The women were taken to a lounge in what, as best as Natalie could tell, was the ground floor of a large apartment building. She was still suffering from an inability to tell direction or determine a purpose for things. The living dolls were told to wait while the men outside had a smoke. Natalie saw them through a window, talking and joking. They were obviously waiting for someone important to arrive.

The five girls sat side-by-side, all in a row.

Natalie found that she could speak. “I’m sorry,” she said to the girl next to her, her former neighbor.

“I’m Gloria,” the woman said. “What have they done to us?” Her lips quivered. She was near to crying but unable to.

“We’re going to be sex slaves,” a girl off to Natalie’s left said. “They’re going to fuck us.”

Please, Natalie thought.

They talked. They compared their plights. Gloria introduced the woman next to her as Kate, but Kate wouldn’t say a word, she was so frightened. One thing led to another: Natalie explained what happened to her, how she had come to be there. And then it was Gloria’s turn.

“Kate and I were friends,” Gloria began. “The night we were abducted, we had decided to go on a girls’ night out together. Neither of us were really serious about being picked up by guys, but it was fun to go out to a nightclub and let ‘em hit on us.

“The club I picked out had a girl’s night free drinks policy. I put on my slinkiest party clothes, selected the highest set of heels I had in my closet, and when I got to Kate’s place, I saw that she had done the same. We laughed. ‘We look like a pair of hookers,’ she said, and we clutched at each other and giggled. It was true. There was a line going into the club when we got there, but we didn’t have to wait long. The bouncer let us in after only fifteen or twenty minutes, along with a lot of other girls.”

She stopped for a moment. Gloria put her hands to her enormous tits and began pinching her engorged nipples. Natalie didn’t say anything, but she continued to rub her own clit and bite her lip in anxious frustration. She wanted to be fucked so bad!

“We danced for maybe two hours,” her fellow prisoner resumed, “between hitting the bar every once and a while for drinks. We came to a great place. The DJ was good. The lights were dim, but the strobe system made everything stand out as if it were day. The club was packed. Everywhere you looked you could see people dancing and having a good time. The girls were dressed scantily. The guys were tryin’ to get busy with us. Kate loved it. So did I. We got hit on, of course. Guys would come up to us at the bar and try to talk us up. The bolder ones tried to get it on us with both of us at once. But we weren’t interested. I mean, we weren’t mean about it or anything. We weren’t being deliberate teases or something. We just liked the flirting. Flirting’s fun. It’s harmless, right?” Natalie nodded. “Anyway, what happened is these two guys were standing between us, and we were all laughing. They were really cute. These two guys, they looked like college kids, they came up to us together, like, it was like neither of them had the stones to try and hit on one of us on his own, so they were eggin’ each other on. It was really cute. They were cute. Anyway, the tall one was talking to me, and the shorter one was talking up Kate, and then they both just stopped all at once, both of ‘em, like they had it practiced. One second they were chatting to us about this great place they knew about, I wasn’t even really paying attention, I think it was a restaurant, and how they’d like to take us there for drinks, and then they both got this strange expression on their faces, and they just stopped talking.

“Well, I thought it was a joke at first.

“I mean, it was really funny the way they just stopped. They stopped talking, they stopped moving, they just went all blank, like someone had pulled their plugs or something.

“And that’s when Kate stood up from her bar seat and walked away.

“I mean, I didn’t know what was going on. I couldn’t see what was on her face. She didn’t say anything either. For a second, I thought one of those guys had touched her, maybe, and that she was going to slap him or go get help. But that didn’t happen. She just walked away.”

Gloria closed her eyes. All the while she had been talking, she had been feeling herself up uncontrollably. Her voice was on edge, full of desperate need. Natalie knew exactly how she felt.

The pleasure-ache between her own legs was almost overwhelming. It was sometimes hard to understand Gloria, too. Her lips were so puffy due to the treatments she had received, so much like the treatments she herself had been subjected to, that her words came out distorted.

“But that didn’t happen,” she had said. “She just walked away.”

What her words really sounded like was “Buf thaf diff happin. She jusf walkfer ‘way.”

Neither of them, Natalie knew, would ever be able to speak properly again.

Their treatments had turned their lips into cushions for the exclusive nestling of cocks.

All their mouths were good for now was giving out blowjobs.

“‘Kate, what’s wrong,’ I said. The guy next to me was a statue. And then they both got up, the two guys. The one who had been talking to Kate, he turned right around and started talking to the girl who had been behind him a second ago. The guy who had been talking to me, he got up, walked around me, and started talkin’ up the girl behind me! It was like, all of sudden, they just forgot I was there!

“Well, I was mad. Like I said, I thought it was maybe a joke they were pulling, talking the two of us up and then with a practiced turn makin’ like they were deliberately ignoring us. ‘Fuck you,’ I said to ‘em, and I went after Kate. They didn’t respond. It was like they couldn’t hear me.

“Kate, meanwhile, had gone in the direction of some private booths the club had, where celebrities or the people with money could drink and watch the dancers do their thing. The booths were behind these velvet ropes, but Kate walked right through them. There were two bouncers standing on either side of the rope, and when they saw Kate coming, they let her through.

“They didn’t even look at her, or me, either. I followed her in.

“‘Kate, what’s wrong?’ I said to her. ‘Where you goin’, girl?’ But she didn’t turn around, and I still couldn’t see her face. If I had, maybe . . . maybe I wouldn’t be here now. If I hadn’t gone after her, maybe . . maybe they would have let me go.”

Gloria hitched a sob and played with herself with even more earnest.

“I don’t think so,” Natalie said (What actually came out of her fellatio-intended lips was more like “I donf thinf so.”). “You can’t blame yourself.” She really had no idea, but she had to say something.

“That’s when I saw Them,” Gloria finally went on. “The Mas . . the Men.” Natalie could hear the capital letters in Gloria’s voice, the awe with which she spoke of Them. She herself moaned a little.

God, she needed to be fucked!

“They were sitting in one of the booths, the one Kate and I had approached. The Ma . . Master . . on the left was this gorgeous blond. I mean, He was a god! I got wet just looking at Him.” She sobbed suddenly, leaned back, and masturbated futilely.

Natalie knew what the black woman was picturing in her mind as she tried to achieve climax: she was thinking about the Man . . their Master! Helplessly, she began doing it herself, to no avail.

Both girls whimpered in their sexual anguish.

“The . . the other one, the other Ma . . Man was also blond. His hair was longer, that was all. They were each wearing mirrored sunglasses, I remember. They watched as we approached, and I . . I just wanted to fuck ‘em. I mean, the need to fuck Them took over everything. I had to have Them inside me, I wanted to serve Them, I wanted to suck and fuck Them, They were my Masters, They were my Gods! and I was nothing but a slave, a helpless, willing fucktoy for Their pleasure . . . oh God!!!” She shuddered in sheer recollection, and Natalie shook alongside her, visualizing that moment and comparing it to her own experiences with those living deities. “At . . at the same time, I . . I wanted to get out of there. I . . I knew I had to get away before . . before . . . . But I couldn’t. The Man on the left, He looked at me, and suddenly I couldn’t move. I was frozen in place. All around us, people were dancing and having fun, and there we were, the four of us, like we were in our own little country all by ourselves. No one was looking at any of us. No one heard us. The other Man, He was staring at Kate, and suddenly she stripped for Him. Right there in the middle of the club, she stepped out of her skirt, threw away her top and panties, and then she knelt before Him. Again, no one outside the little circle of the four of us saw or said anything. Kate crawled over to the Man, and He pulled His pants down, and she went down on Him, started giving Him a blowjob in front of everybody. Part of me was, like, disgusted and amazed, but the biggest part of me was burning with envy! God, she was so lucky! I so wanted to suck that Man’s cock myself! But I couldn’t move! I couldn’t even talk! The other Man, the one with the longer hair, He watched Kate blow her Master. It was like He was studying her, grading her technique or something. The first Man, He didn’t seem to mind. He said nothing, and when He blew His load down Kate’s throat, it was like He had just been readin’ a book, like it didn’t mean anything to Him at all. Kate licked . . licked Him clean afterwards. That’s when the Man on the right, He looked at me again, and I started taking off my clothes. I . . I tried to stop, but I couldn’t. Part of me didn’t want to. He had me keep my garters on while He fucked me. It was . . . it was . . . .” She couldn’t go on, but she didn’t need to. Natalie understood. He had fucked her, and it had proven to be the best fuck of her life, the fuck by which every other fuck paled to insignificance.

Gloria finished her story in bits and pieces.

The Masters made use of both of them, alternately, and thoroughly, and when They were through, the two women were taken from the club. Gloria described how as they left the men and women in the nightclub turned vague and indistinct, how their voices turned to gibberish. By the time they were out of the front door, the four of them had been alone in an empty city occupied only by mannequins.

Natalie knew all about that. How the two of them got to the apartment building prison, Gloria had no idea. Like Natalie, her sense of direction and space and time had been deliberately ruined. What happened to Gloria then mirrored Natalie’s own experiences: periodic visits from the doctor; periodic visits from the men who worked for the Men, who would rape her as they saw fit; long periods of exercise and change in her private cell. Gloria had been separated from her friend Kate, hadn’t seen her until today for the first time, changed into every much the living sexdoll the two of them now were.

Who the fourth and fifth girls were, Natalie never found out. She never got the opportunity to speak with them.

Outside on the street, a huge and beautiful limousine pulled up. The back door opened, and for a moment Natalie’s heart stopped. It was Him! It was the Dark-Haired Stranger! Her Rapist!

Her Master!

He was clad in a elegant business suit, mirrored sunglasses on His Face. He looked at the five girls through the window, and Natalie’s heart skipped another beat. He was looking at her. At her!

She loved Him! She hated Him!

As one—literally as one, as if the five of them had been connected by invisible wires—the five living sex dolls stood, pivoted, and pranced out onto the street.

Their steps were perfectly synchronized. The way their arms moved was identical. They were more graceful under His Control.

Natalie could feel the power of her Master’s Leash in her lowly, submissively willing mind, and His Presence inside her only fueled the fires burning between her thighs.

Despite all that he had done to her, and all the disgusting things he had made her do, by the time they got to the street Natalie had all but forgotten “Tommy” was still with them. All she could think about—all that she could visualize herself doing—was the Man! At His silent Command, the five girls lined up outside the building along the sidewalk, facing Him. The street was crowded with faceless mannequins.

Natalie’s Master silently surveyed the girls, His property, then turned to “Tommy” and his crew.

“You Have Abused My Merchandise, Thomas,” He said in that odd, reverberating accent. While objectively they weren’t all that far apart in size, the Man nonetheless seemed to tower over the other.

“Tommy”—Thomas—immediately paled. “But . . but . . .” he tried to stammer an explanation. “She’s all right. I didn’t hurt her any. All I did was . . .”

“You Have Disobeyed Me,” the Man said. He laid Eyes on Tommy’s gang. “The Three Of You Are Banished.” And He looked at them. They started to shake. Like little children instead of grown men, they clutched at one another, in fear.

“Karl . . Karl, what’s happening!? I can’t see you!” They shouted other things before everything they said turned to gibberish.

They let go of one another and started spinning around in circles, waving their arms about wildly as if all three had been simultaneously struck blind and deaf. Then they started to change: they lost definition, the same way the people in Natalie’s elevator had lost definition. Natalie lost her impression of their faces, their clothes, everything that distinguished them as individuals. Like the so-called “people” on the street around them, they became a trio of faceless mannequins . . . but with a significant difference.

Natalie didn’t know why, but staring at them as they “disappeared,” for lack of a better description, she received a horrible impression.

For just an instant, she thought she saw the city from their perspective, and it was empty! So empty!

Their streets were empty. No people, no mannequins, just silence and vacant buildings, a hollow world into which the three of them were now thrust, unable not merely to perceive humanity as humanity anymore, as Natalie could no longer, but unable to perceive humanity at all! How she came by this impression, through intuition, through the mental Leash her Master held her mind in, it did not matter. She knew it for the truth. The three men became blanks to her, as devoid of expression or identity as any of the others surrounding her; but they became blanks to themselves as well. They did not move with the same sense of deliberateness, of people—of mannequins—going about their daily lives.

They began to stumble about and hold their hands out in front of them, searching for something they would never again see. They shouted, and even though it sounded like gibberish to Natalie’s ears, it also sounded lonely and scared. From the way they moved and blundered about, it was apparent they could not even hear one another, nor see one another. They staggered in different directions, clearly trying to lay hands on something, on one another, for reassurance, to see one another, for some continuation of hope, of release; but they simply could not.

“Banished.” The three new mannequins wandered off, each exiled alone into his own little world.

Natalie shivered.

The Man returned His Glance to Tommy.

He shook his head. “No . . no, she wasn’t nothin’,” he said. He pointed at Natalie. “She was just a slut. For Christ’s sake, you turned her into a sex slave!! That’s what she’s going to be for!”

“It Was Not Your Place To Use Her,” the Man told him. “Your Abuse Damaged Her Ego.” His Voice was flat and meaningful, deadly. “You Do Not Take When What She Is May Be Made To Want To Give.”

Natalie’s nipples tightened at these words, though under other circumstances she would have felt nothing but anger. But how could she be angry at this . . . at her God!?

No, she thought. Those are not my thoughts. Those are his! She struggled to break free of the Leash. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the remains of Tommy’s goons still trying to find someone, anyone. Even through their gibberish, she could tell they were crying, and scared, and lonely.

Tommy opened his mouth, shut it, opened it again. His eyes were wild. “Please, don’t . . . I’m sorry, I won’t touch any of ‘em again, I swear . . I swear! Don’t . . don’t do me like them, please!”

“I Will Not,” Natalie’s Master said. “Since You Act Like A Vupine, A Vupine Shall You Be.”

Tommy’s eyes widened still, so much so for a second Natalie thought they would pop right out of his skull. “NOO!” he screamed and tried to get away, but he froze suddenly, held in the Man’s Iron Mind.

What happened to Natalie’s rapist? She wasn’t precisely sure, didn’t know whether what she saw was a mental transformation or a physical one, that the change that swept over Tommy was a bodily alteration in his form, the sudden hunching over onto all fours, the red blaze that appeared in his eyes, the lengthening and curving of his limbs into those of an animal; or if it was merely a change in her perception of him—and, presumably, a change in his perception of himself—but, in any case, where he stood one second, the next that same space was occupied by one of those hairless, ugly things she had seen out on the streets before she had been captured. His body—or his body only in Natalie’s mind—turned gray and sinewy. His face grew a snout and lost all expression of intelligence. He began to drool and howl. His fingers and toes grew claws. He turned into an animal, and he looked up at his Master.

The Man waved him off, and the remains of “Tommy” pawed away, padding along the street, a mindless creature.

Natalie didn’t know what to think. That man had hurt her, had raped her, had kidnapped her, and now he had been turned into a . . . a thing. She knew he would wander the city now, looking for something and never finding it. It was a well-deserved fate, yet, at the same time, a horrible, inhuman one, and she almost felt pity.

Almost.

At the same time, the Man who had done this thing to him, He too had raped her, had kidnapped her, and, moreover, had turned her into something little better than a sextoy, a fucktoy, a slave!

It was like seeing one monster beat up on another. Her emotions were mixed and confused. She loved what the Man had done for her! She hated what He had done to her!

She felt both at the same time.

She wanted Him to love her—to fuck her—yet deep inside she knew that no matter how He made her feel, how He made her want Him so badly, it would only be another form of rape at His Hands.

The Man watched “Tommy” pad off for a minute, then returned His Attention to the five newly minted slaves in front of Him. Natalie continued to shake.

He was evidently permitting her this small luxury.

The Man approached the first blow-up doll woman, one of the two Natalie hadn’t spoken to. As the radically transformed girl stared up at Him, her God, her balloon-sized breasts quivered with desire, and her face filled with awe and lust.

Their Master raised His Hands to the girl’s temples and lightly brushed His Blessed Fingers along them.

He held her head like that for a long moment.

The living doll gasped delightedly. Her blowjob lips opened as much as they could.

Her small but significantly enhanced body shook as if electrified. What is He doing to her? Natalie thought, horrified, yet unable to ignore the desire she felt to have the Man do it—whatever it was—to her next.

It was over quickly.

He released the girl’s head, and she stepped back. Her head shook for a second, as if she were trying to shrug off some momentary dizziness. Once again, her enormous tits quivered delightfully with the motion, like jello. Then, stable again, she once more gazed up upon the Man and smiled radiantly.

The expression on her face was completely different.

There was no longer any look of fear whatsoever in her eyes. There was no longer any hint of despair.

The Man repeated this procedure with the second unnamed girl, who, upon completion, like the first, fell back, nodded, and then looked up with shining new eyes that soon expressed only lust and submission.

He moved over to the transformed Kate. Natalie’s own oversized lips quivered. What is He doing?

It was Gloria’s turn next. Their Master laid two Fingers to her temples, and for about ten seconds the black, hairless dolly shook like an epileptic as something—something wonderful, terrible—was done to her, done to her mind. Then she was released, and gone was the woman Natalie had briefly spoken to.

Natalie could see the transformation in her face.

The doll that had been Gloria smiled mindlessly, gloriously, all her dollthoughts now channeled into one direction, that of lust and submission. Natalie could feel that lust and submission through their rapport, through the common Leash holding them together. She didn’t know how, but she felt it, knew it.

Despite her fear at what it might entail to her mind, her vital sense of self, Natalie couldn’t wait to have it done to her! If Her Master wanted it done to her, it must be good!

No, she thought, at the same time, please no. But it was only a small voice inside her head that dared protest, and its tiny pleas could be easily ignored in the throes of her body’s unnatural sexual desires.

She wanted Her Master to fuck her so badly!

She would give up anything, even her mind, to be fucked by Him. He lifted His Hands to her . . . and then He stopped.

He tilted His Head, His beautiful Expression unreadable beneath His mirrored Glasses.

“No,” He said finally. “You Have A Talent For Art. That Is Valuable. It Must Be Retained. The Mathematics Of Your Purge Must Be Calculated At Greater Length.”

Then, to Natalie’s great and utter disappointment, He walked away.

Had she been permitted, she would have screamed in frustration.

The Man looked over the dolls and made His selection, pulling on the arm of the first girl he had “purged.” He opened up the back of the limousine and put her to the seat, whereupon he disrobed and proceeded to take her, the girl soon screaming with inarticulate, mindless delight as she was fucked.

Natalie could only watch in desperate envy. Purged? she thought. Talent?

Left on their own, Kate and the other unnamed girl at length turned to one another (Natalie had only recently acknowledged that she could move on her own, that her body was free), and, no longer, apparently, restrained by anything in their minds, anything left in their minds but the burning, sexual need each of them must have been feeling, they started kissing and licking at one another, hungrily, like sluts.

For that it is what they now were, in mind and body alike.

Subsequently, they were on the ground fucking each other, heedless of the cold or the concrete or the hundreds of faceless mannequins surrounding them. The second sun burned coldly in the sky above.

Meanwhile, Natalie saw Gloria approach her, her smile as radiantly mindless as the others, her eyes also clear and mindless with burning lust.

“Gloria?” she asked, with some trepidation. Despite her new friend’s predatory look, Natalie felt her own desire well up inside her in response.

“Gloria wants to fuck,” the former Gloria said, bimboishly.

It made her sound even more like a doll now, even more so than her blow-job lips alone had.

“Gloria wants to fuck Natalie. Natalie want to fuck?” Without waiting for an answer, she stepped into Natalie’s arms and put her mouth on her mouth, kissing her deeply. “No,” Natalie cried out, twisting yet kissing at the same time, trying to pull out of the embrace yet draw herself into it at the same time.

But Gloria was having none of that.

“Gloria feels fucky. Gloria wants to fuck. Natalie wants to fuck, too.”

While their Master rutted in the back of the limousine, Gloria pushed Natalie to the sidewalk, kissing her sensitive, giant-sized nipples, putting her hand to Natalie’s wildly engorged sex. Suddenly, the half-resistance Natalie had shown became too difficult a pose to put up, and she took Gloria’s slick, hairless head in her hands and kissed her back fervently. Her modified, blowjob-enhanced lips were delicious.

The binder Natalie had been carrying all this time fell to the ground.

Natalie knelt between Gloria’s open thighs. Her skin felt fantastic! It was smooth and delicious, warm and inviting, like silk and plastic combined into one unearthly texture. An absolute carnal need overcame Natalie. She pulled herself over the doll woman’s luscious body, squeezing at her oversized nipples as Gloria responded in kind. Their legs intertwined. Despite its hardness, the sidewalk felt mysteriously soft and comfortable, as if the two of them were lying on a bed together instead of out on the street. They kissed hard, lips locking together in a frenzy of lust and abandonment. Natalie was not a lesbian; she had never even remotely been interested in female flesh before, had shown nothing but disinterest to naked women in movies or in magazines that had been shown to her. But when she kissed Gloria, all the passion, all the sexual drive that had been instilled in her for God-knew-how-long in that accursed apartment—that had been driven into her with the rape of her mind and body by her Master! that glorious God of Sex that had taken over her mind and body!—all came out at once. Natalie wanted to fuck Gloria. She needed to fuck Gloria. It would be an affirmation of her very existence. It would be the only thing that kept her sane. Their tongues played back and forth, deliciously, heatedly.

Gloria lowered her head onto Natalie’s chest and began mouthing her breasts. Natalie moaned in delight, and when her friend put her tongue to her nipples, sucked at her nipples, she climaxed hard, an explosion of pleasure bursting through her. It was only a shadow of the pleasure she had experienced with the Man! but it was still miles better than any other sex she had ever had. Maybe I am a lesbian, she thought, and giggled. Gloria responded likewise, though her giggles had a wilder sound to them.

They seemed, almost in fact, to echo, as if the head making them was totally empty.

The two continued to rut. The first climax only fueled her desire for more. “Please,” she begged Gloria.

The doll-woman clutched at Natalie’s breasts, squeezing. They groped at each other, reaching for as much skin as possible. How or when they made the change in stance, Natalie knew not, but in due course the two girls-made-sluts were positioned with the other’s head between the other’s legs, and they were licking and kissing, sucking and probing with abandon. Natalie screamed in pleasure and a second monstrous climax as Gloria’s tongue lapped at the folds of her sex and her enlarged clitoris.

She took her cue from the other, performed the same operation on Gloria, and was gratified to hear the other slut scream as rapturously as she had. Mouths ran over slick, plastic-smooth skin. Tongues entered crevices. Fingers took hold of delicate parts and squeezed. It was heavenly. It was exactly what Natalie needed after so long. An unknown length of time’s need burst from her in too many climaxes to count. But despite the pleasure, she knew it to be but a shadow of what was possible.

She still wanted—needed—to be fucked by her Master!

Her fucking with Gloria, in fact, only strengthened that resolve.

Gloria got up, held out her hand with one finger extended. “Feel fucky,” she moaned. She bent down and Natalie gasped as she was entered. She squeezed down on the intruding digit, gasping in ecstasy.

Too soon, much too soon, it was over.

Natalie barely registered the limousine leaving. She and Gloria only stopped rutting around together when both girls felt the Leash—a different Man’s Leash—fill their minds at the same time. Blinking stupidly, Natalie felt her body rise, no longer in control of herself, if control, one may say, she ever had.

The four living dolls came to their stiletto-clad feet. They needed the elaborate footwear now, would have been incapable of walking without them on account of the treatments given to their ankles. The world spun for a timeless interval as Natalie’s mind and body were attuned to a different Owner.

Please, she thought. What now? What now? She was still burning with need.

Like the automatons they appeared to be, the automatons they had been transformed into, the girls lined up in a row: pigtail, bald, pigtail, bald. Natalie found herself in front of the line. With an easy, mincing grace, partially accomplished through the Leash, partially on account of her long walks on the treadmill, Natalie began moving, stepping as elegantly as a prized show horse down the streets of the city.

Where she would end up, it was impossible to predict.

But she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that there would be a Master there to greet her.