Pixie Isobella

‘Your tits will get bigger again as we train you,’ Garvan informed me with satisfaction. ‘Put your shoes on, darling. Let’s run you through a test simulation, shall we?’

Alia’s Saturday afternoon turns into a nightmare when she falls through a portal into a futuristic sci-fi world — a world where human women like her are ‘piloted’ as mannequins, unable to resist the demands of their ‘owners’. Captured by the charismatic pilot, Garvan Excelsior, Alia is soon renamed ‘Allie’ and begins her training to become Garvan’s fully trained and compliant fucktoy.

‘Alia’s Grace’ is a non-con mind control story broadly set in the isekai genre.

Alia’s Grace — The Mannequin Game: Chapter 3

[Alia’s Grace contains non-consent erotica, mind control, bimbo training, object insertion and female submission. All characters are over 18. Chapter 1 is here]

Far too soon we were heading back down the corridor, past reception and up some stairs to a second level.

The uniform shoes were a pair of strappy high heels of the same boring green-beige as the clothes, and I stepped uncomfortably as my shoes clacked-clacked on the linoleum floor. I had complained to Garvan that they were uncomfortable when I put them on, and he had just laughed with his usual amused superiority.

‘You’ll get used to it,’ he informed me. ‘If I let you wear comfortable shoes, you wouldn’t have to adapt. If you wear these, you’ll level up the skills you need to walk, run and fight in them.’

‘Fight?’ I almost shrieked. ‘I’m not fighting.’

‘You’ll do what I tell you,’ Garvan chuckled with amusement. ‘Why do you think mannequins’ exist? We’re at war, darling, and soon enough, you’ll be on the front lines. Pull your shoulders back now, girl. And get those tits out on display — yes, just like that.’

I shuddered to know he was looking right at my breasts as he spoke. The big globes had been forced up and forwards as I fixed my posture.

He kept speaking. ‘I want every pilot who walks past to see what big tits my girl has.’

‘You’re a monster,’ I complained but I obeyed, keeping my shoulders back and my breasts forward. Knowing that people were watching me, I wanted to shrink into the walls each time another mannequin walked past me in the corridor.

We were moving through more populated areas of the building and many mannequins passed by me, ignoring me completely. I guessed from the more ornate costumes they wore that many of these girls were higher level than me.

As I passed them, I usually felt the cool shiver that I was learning meant a pilot was looking at me. The sensation was strongest in the part of my body he was looking at — usually at my breasts, of course, sometimes directly at my groin, rarely at my face.

I hated the thought of all those men seeing me, ogling me in this stupid ‘uniform’, but I couldn’t do anything about it.

‘That’s my girl,’ Garvan purred as I felt myself levelling again — from exposing myself, I knew. From letting all those men see me. The pain in my forearm stung before subsiding again.

Mannequin: Level 8
Owner: Garvan Excelsior

‘Once my control over you is cemented, I’ll lend you out to some mates to play with from time to time,’ he said, the words sending a chill into my stomach. ‘That’ll level you too.’

‘What if I don’t want to level?’ I asked rebelliously as we approached a counter with the words ‘test simulations’ on a neon sign. ‘It only seems to bring me bad things.’

‘No-one cares what you want,’ I could almost hear Garvan shrugging. ‘If you had wanted your views to matter, you shouldn’t have been a mannequin. Anyway, that’s how the world works — we all level, Allie, even me. Of course, I’ve got several classes, and I’m very high level in all of them. But I’ll make sure you don’t take levels in another class. No-one wants a mannequin who levels independently.’

‘Why shouldn’t I level independently?’ I asked grumpily, still feeling rebellious.

‘Because you’re my property,’ Garvan spoke as if it was self-evident. ‘You’re a mannequin, darling, built for one purpose — to be my perfect doll. Speak to the receptionist here,’ he added as we approached the test simulations counter. ‘We’re going to do a simple search and recovery simulation,’ he added. ‘It’s a bit simple for me but it’ll train you in some useful skills and we might get some basic gear for you.’

Blushing at his patronising tone, I stumbled through the conversation with the receptionist. She was similar enough to the woman below that I wondered all over again if she too was piloted like me.

‘She’s not,’ Garvan said, making me wonder if he could read my mind, or if I was just that obvious. ‘It’s just her job. She’s probably got levels in reception — not many, that’s a pretty limiting field — and in whatever hobbies she does when she’s not here. You won’t do hobbies,’ he added quickly as if forestalling something I might have been about to say. ‘Like I said, you’re a mannequin, I don’t want you getting confused by trying to level into something else as well.’

‘You’re a patronising arsehole,’ I muttered, blushing red hot. The receptionist had given us a code and a door number, and I was already walking in the direction Garvan indicated. I could tell he had played this game — whatever this game was — a lot. He knew the layout of Rydon Academy like the back of his hand.

We stepped into what seemed to be a disused office back down on the first level. I looked around puzzled, wondering why there were objects — chairs, cupboards, files, office equipment — strewn about everywhere. The kitchen was full of used cups and plates, sitting unwashed under a dripping tap.

‘We’re in luck,’ Garvan sounded pleased as I looked around the room feeling depressed. This was so not what I had expected a ‘test simulation’ in a futuristic world to look like. ‘They clearly had some training here yesterday for the ground staff and they haven’t cleaned up. It’s good basic work for a new mannequin. You’ll clean it for them, Allie,’ he explained, ‘and we’ll pick up some loot along the way. Get started now, darling.’

Flushing at being forced to clean, I moved unwillingly into the room.

Garvan forced me to be precise and systematic, and I hated it. First, I had to wash all the dishes and clean the sink, returning all the items accurately back to their numbered places. A few cups and spoons were missing and I had to search the room for them. He wouldn’t let me proceed until everything was clean and in its place.

‘That’s it, darling,’ he said when the kitchen was spotless. ‘It’s boring work but it teaches you to follow directions. And I get a good look at your tits and arse while you work,’ he chuckled.

I hated the thought of him watching me while I worked — actually, even more, I hated the thought of him undoubtedly sitting back in a comfortable chair somewhere, his feet up while I cleaned half-naked on display for him.

I swallowed down a retort, blushing hotly. Telling him what an arsehole he was being would only encourage him to patronise me again, I knew that by now.

A moment later, I wanted to cry as I felt the familiar sensation of a level-up cresting through me.

Mannequin: Level 9
Owner: Garvan Excelsior

‘Good girl,’ Garvan murmured, and I could feel him swinging his viewpoint around me, inspecting me as my breasts tightened and swelled slightly, the round globes pushing out against the fabric surrounding them. My breasts were actually growing bigger. I couldn’t believe it. It made no sense.

‘You’ll slow down after levels 10 or 12,’ Garvan explained, ‘but it’s good to get these early levels into you. The more levels of mannequin we force into you now, the less likely you are to pick up a secondary class by accident. I like how your tits are growing too,’ he chuckled. ‘That shows we’re doing the right thing. You’re going to be an impressive doll in my stable and I’ll get a good price for you when I decide to sell you on. Clean the room now, darling, like a good little submissive bitch.’

I clenched my fists and gritted my teeth. I knew my eyes were sparkling with unshed tears. I also knew, deep in my core, the reason for that last level-up. It was because I had chosen not to speak back to Garvan — this foul ‘game’ we were apparently playing had appreciated my submitting to him. I had levelled because I had chosen to let him treat me like this without complaint.

The trouble was that it was hard to resist him. I knew by now that I couldn’t resist him physically — if Garvan wanted me to do something, he could physically make me do it. But it wasn’t just that — waves of warm pleasure flooded through me each time he expressed satisfaction with me.

I guessed it was because he had ‘tweaked’ my base stats to make me more submissive — whatever that even meant. It was a heady experience and hard to resist.

Cleaning the room was hard work and soon I was sweating lightly. Once all the folders and books were cleaned away, Garvan made me drop down onto all fours to wash the floor. I just knew he was watching my breasts swinging in the air, and I guessed he was swinging his viewpoint around to look between my legs from behind as well.

There wasn’t anything I could do to stop him.

Once the floor was clean, he ordered me to search the cupboards, organising and tidying what I found there.

‘This is ridiculous,’ I grumbled. ‘This isn’t teaching me anything. I’ve known how to clean for years,’ I added. I was feeling tired and hungry, and I hadn’t had any respite since I had stumbled into the parkland outside — already a few hours ago now, I guessed.

‘Search the drawers for collectibles, then we’ll move on to the next room,’ Garvan said implacably. One of the desk drawers contained small metal coins that I didn’t recognise — Garvan told me that I was allowed to take these, and showed me the small pockets in my uniform where I could store items.

‘They leave them here for whichever mannequin cleans the room,’ he said. ‘We’ll be able to use those coins to buy you ornaments,’ he explained. ‘Or there might be some cheap mods in the store,’ he added. ‘I’ve edited your controls so you can’t spend your credits without my permission,’ he said. ‘You’re mine to shape, do you understand, darling? You won’t wear anything without my prior permission.’

‘I don’t understand any of this!’ I snapped as Garvan directed me into the next room.

He didn’t offer to explain further and, luckily, because I was feeling overwhelmed and ready to cry, this room wasn’t nearly as messy. A simple tidy and a few more coins later, I was done, and he let me move into the third and final room.

We found some more coins here and I could feel my coin pouch in my uniform was growing quite full and heavy. Garvan was reeking with satisfaction — ‘I’ll be able to buy a minor stat upgrade for you with that’ he said, bewildering me — but then he found something far more interesting to him.

I didn’t really look at the pens I was tidying away until Garvan ordered me abruptly to pull a thick marker back out of the untidy collection of biros I had just put into a drawer.

‘That’s what I thought,’ he gloated as I turned the pen over in my hands. ‘It’s basic but it’ll do. And it’s just what I’m in the mood for after watching you strut around with your tits and arse on display like that.’

The pen didn’t have a brand name on it and I had no idea what he was talking about. Instead of any brand markings, a single word — ‘Insertable: Level 0 — for use during training’ — was written along the pen in a bold font that I already recognised as belonging to Rydon Academy.

‘Get down on the floor, darling,’ Garvan ordered, his fingers already working his controls to force me down onto all fours. ‘You’re going to show me how you fuck.’

‘No!’ I gasped, trying to stand up again, but Garvan held the controls steady and I was unable to move. ‘You can’t do this to me,’ I begged. ‘Please!’

Of course, I had had the vague premonition of sex in my mind all day since Garvan had taken control of me. He called me his mannequin, his doll, and he dressed me like a sex object — presumably, he would want to fuck me somehow, eventually, or make me fuck other mannequins or something else equally horrid.

But part of me had been hoping that maybe all he wanted was to watch me walking around with my tits, pussy and ass on display.

‘Nonsense, Allie,’ Garvan sounded impatient. ‘You’ll get a couple of levels out of fucking that insertable, darling,’ he purred. ‘Knees wider apart now and push your arse up,’ he ordered me. ‘I want to see everything as that insertable goes into you. I’m going to jack off when I am done piloting you tonight and damn it’s going to be good.’

I moaned with discomfort as my face and breasts touched the ground, the hard linoleum cold against my skin. I slid my hand with the pen in it down between my legs, knowing that Garvan could already see my pussy, fully exposed to him.

‘Show me how wet you are, love,’ Garvan said silkily and I moved my second hand between my legs, feeling uncomfortable as this motion left my face firmly planted against the ground. I slid my fingers between my labia, moaning to myself at how embarrassingly, horrifyingly wet I was.

Gods, I was turned on — whether it was from walking around naked or from Garvan’s amendments to my ‘base stats’ earlier.

It seemed that Garvan could see how wet I was too.

‘You’d like a cock inside you, wouldn’t you, darling?’ he murmured. ‘I’ve got your cunt right up close on my screen,’ he chuckled. ‘You’re dripping and ready for penetration.’

‘I hate you,’ I muttered but I wasn’t even sure he could hear.

‘Put the insertable into yourself, Allie,’ Garvan ordered, the tone of his voice not allowing me any leeway. ‘I’m going to watch it vanishing into that wet hole of yours, and imagine it was my dick.’

‘No,’ I moaned, but I was already obeying. The thick marker pen felt cold and alien against my pussy as I pushed it between my labia. It was the work of a moment to find my entrance and push it into me, gasping as I felt the hard plastic intrusion.

It wasn’t very thick but it was long and rigid, and I wanted to cry with embarrassment as I pushed it into me, knowing that Garvan was watching avidly.

How could he just turn me into an erotic display like this?

Mannequin: Level 10
Owner: Garvan Excelsior

The level up pulsed through me, and I could already feel another level up building as I started to fuck the pen in and out of me, obedient to Garvan’s commands.

‘That’s it, love,’ he murmured, his own arousal evident in the hoarseness in his voice. ‘Your first insertable of many. We’ll leave it inside you when I’m done watching.’

‘No, please,’ I gasped. I was trying to stop my hand moving the pen in and out of me, grinding against my g-spot in a fucking motion. Garvan must have felt my pathetic resistance because he laughed suddenly out loud.

‘I’ve been riding mannequins for more than fifteen years,’ he sneered. ‘You don’t think your pathetic resistance is going to stop me, do you? You’ll put whatever I tell you into that hole of yours, darling, is that clear?’

‘No,’ I gasped again, wanting to cry. My knees were slipping sideways on the lino floor and I felt gross — my fingers on the pen were slippery with my own juices, I was so aroused and he could see everything. It was so freaking humiliating.

‘Yes,’ Garvan said, his words flat, not admitting any debate. ‘You know I can fuck you manually, don’t you?’ he sneered. ‘Just with the flip of a switch,’ he chuckled. ‘Let me show you. Maybe this will teach you a lesson.’

Suddenly, my hand was taken completely out of my control.

Instead of me controlling my body, and Garvan issuing instructions that I had to obey, he was manually controlling my hand and wrist himself. With him in charge, the motion of the ‘insertable’ was simple and crude — in, out, in, out, in, out, like a piston on a machine. As I gasped, mortified to be turned into a simple toy like this, Garvan sped up, my wrist bending mechanically back and forth, stabbing the pen into me again and again.

I shrieked, hating the sensation, so much more invasive than what I had felt earlier. Then I cried out again as Garvan returned control to me, and I felt my whole body slumping heavier into the ground.

‘Give me a good show and don’t resist me,’ Garvan grunted. ‘It’s usually more effort than it’s worth to control you like that, but don’t think I won’t do it if I want to.’

I felt tears slipping down my face. Humiliated, I started fucking myself again, not resisting him this time. Instead, I relaxed and went with the motion, even letting my hips writhe a little to emphasise the reception of the pen each time I pushed it back into myself.

‘Good little slut,’ Garvan murmured as another level up flooded through me, my forearm burning scorching hot this time.

Mannequin: Level 11
Owner: Garvan Excelsior

‘We’ll find a few more insertables tomorrow or the next day,’ he said, ‘and then you’ll push them all into you at the same time. Teach your body what it’s for. I love opening my girls up.’

I moaned with mortification but I kept fucking myself with the pen, trying to ignore the knowledge that he was watching everything.

‘Put your other hand on your clit,’ he ordered me. ‘Bring yourself close to orgasm. I want to get another level up out of this fucking,’ he added greedily. ‘I can’t believe you’re level 11 already! Damn, you’re going to be a good toy.’

I moaned, using my forefingers on my other hand to work my clit. My arousal increased steadily after that and I almost forgot that Garvan was watching. Gods, I was horny — I was crying out little cries of need, desperately wishing that the pen wasn’t too narrow and such an awkward shape.

The level up coursed through me, flooding me.

Mannequin: Level 12
Owner: Garvan Excelsior

‘Stop now, darling,’ Garvan ordered, suddenly, out of the blue.

I stopped, unable to keep fucking myself once he ordered me to stop. I was cursing him. I had been so close to cumming, damn him. I knew that if only I could start touching myself again, I would cum. I didn’t want him to see my orgasm, but I was also so damn aroused that I wanted the orgasm more than I wanted my dignity.

‘Push the insertable deep into you,’ he ordered me, ‘and stand up.’

Hating him, I obeyed, the stiff plastic feeling awkward inside me as I climbed uncomfortably to my feet. It was too rigid inside me and I didn’t like it. My hands were slippery with my own wetness, and I felt gross — hating him for bringing me to such a state.

Through the mindlink, I could hear Garvan laughing at me.

‘You’ll level from cumming,’ he sniggered. ‘But you’ll level better if I stop you and leave you unsatisfied. Plus I’ll cum harder when I’m jerking off later if I know you’re still desperate and needy.’

‘You’re selfish,’ I said softly, hating him.

‘You’re a mannequin, sweetheart,’ Garvan sneered. ‘Your only needs are centred around pleasing me. You’ll learn that soon enough. Get moving now. I need to get you installed in your dormitory and then I can pack up for the day.’ He chuckled. ‘I’ve got a date tonight, actually. I’ll show my girlfriend some of the footage of you running around with your boobs bouncing in the air, then we’ll fuck while you’re lying in your bed wet, empty and hungry.’

‘Why don’t my needs matter?’ I said, almost crying as he propelled me unkindly along unfamiliar corridors. ‘I’m a person.’

‘Heh,’ Garvan chuckled, not answering my question. ‘I want you to ache with emptiness every moment that I’m not piloting you. In the end, you’ll lie awake at night, desperate for the following day when you feel me inside you again.’

Please follow me for more stories! In the real world, remember to always play safely and practise positive, informed and enthusiastic consent that is respectful of all genders.

Do you enjoy non-consent and mind control erotica?

You might enjoy my Company Dolls stories.

Sarah is looking forward to her new job – that is, until her new boss, Mr Cornelius Arden, mind controls her to be the company fucktoy, ‘Seagull’. Get your copy of A Girl Called Seagull on All These Roadworks or Smashwords.

Vanessa, a down-on-her-luck private eye, is trapped between equally sinister forces. Used by the ruthless Dr Garnet Stein and her sidekick Boulder as a fucktoy and slave, she is forced to spy on Mr Cornelius Arden. Vanessa loathes Garnet and Boulder, and soon becomes obsessed with the enigmatic Mr Arden… Get your copy of Vanessa’s Fall and its sequel Vanessa’s Sacrifice at All These Roadworks!

It’s not a manifesto

I write a lot of M/f non-consent erotica, including enslavement of women, degradation and forced breeding. They are not an expression of how the world should be. Everything I write should stay in the hot world of fiction and play. It should absolutely not become part of the real world.

© Pixie Isobella