Zombies, Robots, Bimbos and Dolls

I've recently been reading up on some of the sexual fantasies that pass for mind control erotica and, frankly, I think very poorly of it all.

Most of these fantasies involve the victim being reduced, through whatever means, to a mindless robot puppet, ordered into endless sexual situations by some (usually) young adolescent whose fantasies involve a highly limited repertoire of sexual activities - lying down in missionary, hands and knees in doggy style or on their knees giving fellatio. On occasion, one of the puppets would have to take anal, and an awful lot of physical abuse and beatings goes on in these pseudo-BDSM stories.

Either that, or the victim (and here, the victim is invariably a woman, often a powerful, career-minded, intelligent, witty woman) is reduced to a bimbo whose only thought is to emulate Kim Kardashian and have the taste and erudition of Tulisa or Snooki, and at all times to please her master while wearing nothing but crotchless panties and peekaboo bras, or a cheerleader costume, or some grotesque streetwalker getup. Remember - the mind control mojo reduces the strong, ballsy woman to some horrible creature like this.

I have been giving it a lot of thought, and you know something? I tend to prefer the kind of fiction where the characters given mind control still retain their power and strength - particularly the women. The clients I've had have been very satisfied with my trancings - I can say, with grim certainty, that they have had many more orgasms out of being tranced than I ever had from doing all the trancing.

Become my client, submit to my mesmeric charms, and I tell you that you will come. At least once; possibly a number of times. But don't expect that kind of glassy-eyed Stepford Wife shite.

That is just a fantasy. What I offer is real. And far more interesting.