The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Jane stood in the center of a small, round room. A padded bench ran three-quarters of the way around the room; the door was behind her. Above the bench was a viewscreen, currently showing nothing at all.

She was on Arriket’s ship.

She was in Arriket’s power.

They had taken the small shuttlecraft away from the station and jumped once, twice, a third time; there was no possible way anyone could find them now. Somewhere in interstellar space, they had rendezvoused with Arriket’s own ship. It was a Morgan Lee clipper-class hull, substantially modified. A very expensive, very powerful, very sleek ship.

Jane had docked the ship at Arriket’s guidance, then followed her off the shuttle and onboard the larger ship. It had arti-grav, of course.

Awaiting them past the airlock were two women. They stood stock still, backs stiff, staring blankly at either side of the airlock. They were in skintight shipsuits, white on arms and legs. The entire torso from just below the shoulders to the top of the hips was completely transparent.

“Kitty,” Arriket told the woman on the right, “take Commander Jane Drake to the debriefing room.” She turned to face Jane. “Commander, you will wait there until I arrive. Stand in the center of the room and do nothing otherwise. Okay, Kitty, go.”

“Yes, Mistress Arriket,” the woman called Kitty replied in a flat tone. She turned, revealing that the back of her shipsuit was as see-through as the front. “Follow me, Commander Jane Drake.”

Jane had followed her. Like most clipper-class, the ship had narrow ramps rather than stairs; it only took a few moments before Kitty was opening a door and gesturing Jane inside.

Into a round, white room. A bench seat ran around the circumference, except where the door was located. Kitty had closed the door behind her; Jane stood in the center of the room and waited.

After about twenty minutes, the door opened.

“Commander Jane Drake,” Arriket said, entering the room and walking slowly past Jane. She had a datapad in her left hand. “What a very, very impressive woman.” She held up the datapad. “And I bet this is not even half of it. Commando, assassin, special situations troubleshooter. It seems to me that you’re one of the most competent women in human space. And now you’re here, on my ship, and totally in my power.”

Arriket had changed into a shipsuit, skintight black gloss; she was wearing it open down the front well past her navel. She slid down onto the bench facing Jane.

“And you want to be my slave,” Arriket said.

Jane swallowed. “Yes.”

“Well, that’s good,” Arriket replied. “Because that’s exactly what I’m going to turn you into. Strip naked.”

Her hands ought to have been trembling as Jane undid the clasps to her ship-suit and let it slide to the floor. She pulled her shirt up over her head, followed by her clingbra. She pushed her pants down the to floor, and then slipped out of her panties.

She came back to attention, heart pounding, totally nude.

Arriket considered her in silence for a moment.

Then she stood up. “Very nice,” she said, walking in a slow curl around Jane. “Ah. Don’t watch me. Face front. See the green dot? Keep your eyes on that.”

A fingertip drifted across Jane’s hip, then up her back. Jane shivered uncontrollably.

“I like strong girls,” Arriket said from behind her. Fingernails slid down her bare bottom. “You’ve been enhanced?”

“Joint replacement,” Jane breathed. “Bone enhancement. Muscle density weave.”

“Expensive,” Arriket said, continuing her slow circle, coming into Jane’s view from the left. Her fingernails turned to fingertips turned to a full palm-brush, and she cupped Jane’s left breast. Squeezed. “You have an interesting collection of scars, Jane Drake. Why?”

“Uh...?”

“Why keep them?” Arriket was looking into her eyes now, and Jane deeply wanted to change her gaze to Arriket’s dark, entrancing eyes. But she had been told to look at the green dot, so she kept staring at it. “So much of you has been replaced, fixed, healed. Why keep the scars?”

“They... mean something,” Jane said.

“Hm.” Arriket looked down at Jane’s body. “Bend over. Touch your toes.”

Jane obeyed.

Arriket put both hands on her, stroking up her sides, gripping her hips. The right hand came free, and then a finger was gently touching the length of Jane’s labia.

“Wet,” Arriket said, amusement in her voice. “You really want this.”

“Yes,” Jane croaked.

“Well, that’s good,” Arriket replied. “Attention again, please.”

Jane stood back up, hands at her sides.

“You were Commander Jane Drake,” Arriket said. “One of the most intelligent and effective agents that the Advisory Board had. Too willful, according to many reports; you questioned orders and often resorted to unorthodox, if effective, means of accomplishing your goals.”

Arriket returned to the bench, turned and seated herself.

“The willfulness of course I shall completely remove. The intelligence I find quite attractive. You are a catch, Jane Drake, make no mistake, and I am really quite tickled to have you in my power. You may look at me now.”

Jane turned her head, and her eyes, and Arriket’s deep gaze caught them.

“You were Commander Jane Drake,” Arriket said. “Now, you are my slave. That is the sum total of what you are, now and forever. You have no name, no past, no friends, no family, no possessions. You are meat that I control. You are property.” Arriket was nodding slowly, and Jane realized she was mimicking the motion.

“Until this point,” Arriket said, “your own instinctive desire to be my slave has controlled you. It led you here. It alone has compelled you to obey all my commands. So far, I have done nothing at all to your mind. For all your accomplishment, your skill, your willpower to overcome obstacles, you are quite clearly a natural slave. You recognized this and have given yourself to me. I am going to pare you down to that core, Jane Drake. I am going to remake your mind into what it ought to be. What it wants to be. Which is also what I want it to be.”

Arriket stroked a hand across the surface of the bench. “Sit here.”

Jane walked towards her. Her head was spinning. She sat down next to Arriket. The cushion was cold on her bare bottom. She looked into Arriket’s eyes.

“Closer,” Arriket said. Jane slid closer. She could taste Arriket’s breath.

Arriket reached out and ran her fingertips down Jane’s breast. “Good.” She turned away, and turned back with a slim silver device in her hand.

“Take this, and press it against your inner thigh.”

Jane obeyed.

“Good. The drugs in that hypo are very powerful, and will begin the second step of your irrevocable transformation into my slave.” Jane suddenly shivered—Arriket had reached between her legs and was stroking her labia again, sliding a long finger up, then down— then slowly she pushed her fingertip up inside Jane’s vagina.

“You are my meat,” Arriket whispered. “I am going to turn you into a mindlessly obedient slave. There will be no more Jane Drake, ever again. There will be only Arriket’s eager, obedient drone.”

Jane swallowed as Arriket lightly pushed her finger deeper.

With her other hand, Arriket reached out to lightly hold Jane’s chin. Her dark eyes reached deep into her head.

“As I said,” Arriket said, “So far I have done nothing to your mind at all. It is time for that to change. What I want you to do, Jane Drake, is to resist me. It will be useful to know how strong your will is, so that I can more exactly destroy it. You will resist my control as much as you can. Ultimately of course you will fail, but I am curious to see how long it might take. Do you understand?”

“I understand.”

“Good. Then resist, Jane Drake. Resist as hard as you are able. Resist my command.”

Arriket’s fingers kept stroking her.

“Inject yourself with the hypo.”

Jane’s hand twitched, but Arriket wanted her to resist.

Arriket smiled, and then her eyes-

-her eyes-

-eyes-

Jane’s mind melted. Arriket’s eyes were black pools full of oily radiance, and Jane’s mind melted into them, was enfolded, engulfed. Dimly, she felt the fingers on and in her pussy. A thousand miles away, her hand held a cool metal device.

“Inject Yourself,” came the voice that was her will, and jane moved to pull the trigger on the hypo in her distant hand, but... she wanted... had been told...

“Inject Yourself,” the voice came again, yet jane hesitated. She had no will other than the voice, but something...

“Inject Yourself,” her will prodded a third time, and jane sighed and pulled the trigger on the hypo. A rush of cold tingled into her inner thigh. Currents moved through her body, warm and cool, and the dark swirling pools that were all jane knew began to blur.

A wonderful voice was saying something, but the words were entering jane’s mind without her being able to think about them at all. She could not think, but she could act, and as the words entered her mind her body obeyed them. Now she was standing up, soft hands guiding her body, and then she was walking, listening but not thinking about the words spoken by the voice that was her will.

She walked forward, hands on her arms. The hallways were insubstantial, unimportant. She could feel the blood pumping in her head, and wondered if it was the drugs or the domination whose rhythm her heart was beating to.

The domination. Arriket had dominated her.

She was dominated.

Her mouth opened and emitted a soft moan.

A door opened and jane was guided inside. Two women turned to face her. Both were nude, and their skin glistened.

“Brainwash this slave,” Arriket said. “Avoid unnecessary memory loss, but wipe her will entirely. I want her utterly obedient and morally unencumbered.”

“Yes, Mistress Arriket,” the women intoned.

Arriket turned to face jane. “Slave. You will obey these women. They will transform you into my obedient drone. Do you understand?”

Dumbly, she nodded. “I understand,” she said. Arriket’s beautiful face swam.

Arriket stroked her hair. “Then I will see you again when you are completely, robotically mine. We will have much to talk about.”

Arriket walked out of the room. The door closed.

“Slave,” one of the naked, glistening women said. “Come and lie down on this table.”

She complied.

Everything was blurry—her vision, her hearing, the blood rushing in her head. She opened her sticky mouth and her tongue felt two sizes too large.

A shape in front of her. A woman. Naked... shiny. Tits. Blurry.

The voice was cool. “Do not try to focus. Parts of your brain have been operated on and your visual cortex is still swollen. Feel my hands. Take them.”

She felt cool flesh in her hands, felt her arms being raised.

“Sit up.”

Pulling on the hands, she slowly sat up. The sheet that had been shrouding her fell to her waist.

“Turn.”

She rotated slowly on her buttocks. Her bare feet came free, dangled off the table.

“Stand.”

The hands led her forward. She inhaled as her feet touched the floor, and her legs took her weight.

“Now take a step forward. Gently.”

Her side twitched. Then, like an amateur’s marionette, she raised a leg. Moved it forward. Leaned forward onto it.

Gingerly, she took another step.

The woman walked her forward, step by step, then moved to the side. In front of her, something was darker than the general white blur of the room. “Step forward, lifting your leg high. Good. Now the other leg. Good. Now, turn around in place.”

She turned around in place. The blurry woman was handing her something.

“Place these over your ears, and slide the buds inside.”

She took them both; they were plasticene and cool, disk-shaped with slender rounded protuberances. She slid one of them into her right ear; as the disk surface touched her ear, she felt it mold to the shape and contract. She slid the other one into her other ear, and soon that ear too was covered in a smooth hemisphere of plastic.

“Hold out your arms,” came the woman’s voice, and she realized it was coming from the earbuds. She held her arms out, and the woman slid some bulky cuffs onto her forearms. Cables and tubes dangled down, connecting the cuffs with the top of the chamber she had stepped into.

She inhaled suddenly, because the woman was touching her sex. Practiced fingers daubed a greasy lubricant onto her pussy, and then something round and smooth was slid up inside her. Involuntarily she shifted her hips around.

A hand touched one of her ankles. “Lift this foot,” came the voice in the earphones. She obeyed. Then the other foot. Then something stretchy was pulled up her legs until the woman smoothed it out around her waist; panties of some rubbery material, holding the sex object inside her pussy.

There was a click, and a hum, and suddenly the cuffs stung her.

“Be calm,” came the voice. “Your biochemistry will be strictly controlled during your transformation into a slave.”

A slave. Yes, that’s what was happening to her. She was being turned into a slave.

The woman had brought a silver hemisphere over, a bubble helmet, and was reaching up to fit it over her head. It fit snugly. She began to feel points of pressure across the top and back of her skull.

Her feet were wet.

The woman had stepped back and suddenly became fuzzier as the door of the transformation chamber closed. Some sort of lukewarm slime was filling the chamber, rising from the floor. It crept up over her ankles, her calves.

A soft hissing had begun to emerge from the earphones.

The slime was up to her thighs, and then her waist.

“Slave,” came a voice that was shockingly familiar, and she forgot all other sensory input.

“Relax, and become what I wish you to be.”

“Yes,” she whispered in reply.

“Now sleep.”