The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

There was a soft tone, and she awoke.

All was quiet and dark.

She was nude, on a ship’s bed. A single white sheet covered her.

She sat up, and looked down. Her body was familiar. A good body, strong, although she felt as though she had not properly exercised in too long. She ran a finger down an old scar crossing her ribcage.

The lights brightened, and the door to the room slid open. A very attractive eastais-orig woman stood framed in the doorway. She was dressed in a silver bikini and black heels. She smiled.

“Good morning,” she said. “How do you feel?”

She thought for a moment. “Fine,” she replied. “A little... stiff.”

“Well, you can get right back into your workout regimen shortly,” the woman replied. “but first things first. What’s your name?”

Her mouth opened, but then she stopped. “I... don’t know?” she replied. There was a name in her memories but she knew that it was wrong, somehow. Wasn’t hers.

“That’s fine. Who are you, then?”

“I am Mistress Arriket’s slave,” she said. That much she knew for certain.

The pretty woman smiled. “We all are. Mistress Arriket is away for a while but she should be back onboard soon. I’ve been instructed to welcome you back to consciousness and see to your needs. Your first need, of course, is to obey Mistress Arriket.”

“Yes,” she blurted. “I need to obey. How can I obey her?”

“Her will for you is that you relax, find your center, and enjoy being onboard ship. Do not worry about anything; she will return and give you direct orders soon enough.”

Slave relaxed. She realized that her heart had started racing as soon as she’d realized that she wasn’t obeying Mistress Arriket; she hadn’t known how! But now Mistress had provided her with instruction and slave could obey her. Slave smiled.

“You may call me Cerise,” the woman said. “Mistress Arriket has not named you yet so I shall call you slave.”

“Yes,” slave agreed, “that makes sense.”

“Let me give you a tour of the ship, slave. I don’t know how long you’ll be on board, but it would please Mistress Arriket for you to know your way around.”

“Anything that would please Mistress Arriket is my law,” slave replied. Cerise grinned at her, and slave found herself grinning back.

“Would you prefer to be nude? This room is assigned to you, and I believe Mistress Arriket had one of the housekeeping drones provide you with clothes,” Cerise said, pointing at a drawer in one wall.

Slave stood up, only a little uncertainly, letting the bedsheet fall back to the bed.

“You have a wonderful body, slave,” Cerise observed, unabashedly ogling her.

Slave smiled, and slowly turned in place so that Cerise could see all of her. Then she walked to the drawer. Inside were a number of outfits, neatly folded. Slave removed the top one—it was a black shipsuit, made of some glossy material.

As slave put the shipsuit on, she realized just how diaphanous it was—the material was little more than a layer of black cling on her nude skin. Her nipples were visible through it. She wondered if it had any utility value at all, in the case of blowout or combat. When the zipper came to a stop—as designed—just above slave’s navel, she decided that it did not. Decoration only. But apparently that was Mistress Arriket’s will.

“I’m ready,” she told Cerise.

“You look delicious,” Cerise replied. “Okay then, follow me.”

Cerise’s silver bikini was quite a distraction, but slave managed to pay attention as the other woman showed her the ship. A Morgan Lee clipper-class, as slave remembered. Expensive, built for speed, with enough juice for two jumps in rapid succession. The interior of Mistress Arriket’s ship was unique enough that slave had to assume she had access to a fairly well equipped fitting yard.

A pleasure craft, this, not a warship; the interiors were luxurious rather than practical. That said, the escape pods appeared to be in working order and slave saw three alternative control consoles, and indications of onboard weaponry.

They passed a nude woman running a vacuum over the carpet. Slave saw that the woman’s eyes were iris-less, completely glossy white, giving her the appearance of a mindless robot. She felt her pussy tingling.

“Go on, touch her,” Cerise said. “I see you looking at her.”

Noticing their attention, the drone had turned off the vacuum and stood to order, hands at her sides. Slave ran a hand down her shoulder, then caressed her breasts.

“If you want to have sex with her, we can slip into my room. It’s just up ahead. Mistress Arriket is pleased when we allow our sexual impulses to control us.”

“I... she’s so... obedient,” slave said, kneading the drone’s firm ass.

“Drones are basically mind-stripped,” Cerise said. “There is nothing in their heads, no memories, no personality, no desires other than to obey and to please.”

“It’s wonderful,” slave said quietly. She leaned over and licked the drone’s neck, and the drone made a soft noise of pleasure.

“Sex, then?” Cerise asked. “I’ve been wanting to lick your pussy since you came on board.”

“Yes,” slave replied. “Let’s.”

Later, they lay on the bed in Cerise’s room. Slave’s head was cradled under Cerise’s arm. She turned her face and licked Cerise’s breast.

The drone rose from the bed. Slave and Cerise watched as she carefully picked up the silver bikini and the clingy skinsuit, folded them, opened a wall-drawer and stacked them neatly inside. Then she turned to face them.

“The drone is programmed to continue cleaning, unless further direct obedience is instructed. Do you wish further interaction with the drone at this time?”

It was the first thing the drone had said, and she did so in a flat monotone that set slave’s sex tingling all over again. She reached a hand down to slide lightly over her wet pussy.

“We should probably complete the tour,” Cerise said. “Mistress Arriket will be returning shortly and although she did not say that you must be familiar with the ship, I think if you were it would please her.”

“Then we must do that,” slave replied.

“Indeed,” Cerise said. “Drone, return to your programmed activities.”

“The drone obeys,” the blank-eyed woman said, rotated in place, and left the room.

Slave put the translucent shipsuit back on, and Cerise slipped into the silver bikini. Cerise led slave out of the room and down another corridor, this one sloping downward.

“The lower deck is mostly medical; currently Talia runs the enslaving operation. She’s a brilliant neurologist—let’s see if I can introduce you.”

“How many of us are there on board?” slave asked.

“A dozen. The usual complement is about that, sometimes as many as sixteen. Currently we are five general purpose slaves—that includes me and you—four household drones who clean, cook, that sort of thing, two conversion specialists who take care of the brainwashing, and right now we have one woman in a brainwashing tank. Ah, here we go. Hm, looks like she is busy.”

They were looking through a large window into an operating room. Two women in medical scrubs stood at the head of a third woman who was lying on a table. A hemisphere of holograms floated above the woman’s head, and both of the women standing held needle-like tools.

One of the women moved, and slave realized that they were even at that moment altering the sleeping woman’s brain. As slave’s own brain had been altered.

“We can come back,” Cerise observed. “You’ll want to meet Talia and Fire both. Fire makes the cutest mewling noises when you suck on her.”

Cerise led slave back up to the main deck, and directly toward the prow of the ship. The cockpit door was open. As slave had expected, it was a three-person affair, standard for the clipper-class. Two of the seats were unoccupied, but the pilot swiveled to face her. She was—unsurprisingly—beautiful, southais-orig, deep mahogany skin with strong features. She wore a skinsuit as black as slave’s, but much more functional looking. She smiled.

“You must be the new slave, who was once Jane Drake. Correct?”

“Yes,” slave replied.

“Wonderful. I am Rakshasa; I’m Mistress Arriket’s pilot. I have been eager to meet you since it was revealed to me that you were on board; before I became a slave I had heard a great deal about Jane Drake. I was in Safety and Security, and Jane Drake was kind of a hero to me. If you don’t mind... may I lick your pussy?”

Slave’s eyebrows went up, but she found the request easy to grant. Down went the zipper of the skinsuit, and as Rakshasa dropped out of the chair into a kneeling position, slave spread her legs.

Rakshasa’s tongue slithered along slave’s labia, then her mouth closed around them. She sucked for a moment, her tongue arcing down to push at the entrance to slave’s vagina, then she came loose with a pop.

“Thank you,” the woman said, sliding back into her chair. “It’s a pleasure to meet someone as accomplished as you, and even more of a pleasure now that we are both Mistress Arriket’s obedient slaves.”

Slave’s knees felt a little weak from the intimate contact; she considered closing her skinsuit again, but saw no real reason to. Perhaps Rakshasa’s mouth could be encouraged to come back.

“I am tasked with being watchful as ship’s pilot,” Rakshasa said as she slipped back into her chair. “But I would very much like to have sex with you, slave-who-was-Jane-Drake. The woman I was before idolized you in many ways.”

“I would like that, too,” slave replied, feeling flushed.

Rakshasa smiled. “It’s good to be a slave,” she observed. “We no longer labor under social inhibitions of any sort. Absolute obedience to Mistress Arriket is our only stricture.”

Slave nodded.

“So,” Rakshasa said, “do you have any questions?”

“How long have you been a slave?”

“Three years. Mistress Arriket picked me up in a club on Cinnabar. I have been her pilot since, although there have been a few missions I have performed for her off-ship.”

“Tell me about the ship.”

“As you can doubtless tell, it’s Morgan Lee make. Model year 67, though Mistress Arriket has had lots of work done to it. The jump engine—” Rakshasa broke off, and glanced at the ship’s console. “Mistress Arriket is returning,” she said. “I suspect she’ll want to see our new sister.”

“Come along,” Cerise told slave. “I’ll have one of the drones prepare you to meet Mistress Arriket.” She opened a panel and took out a light headset, which she slid over her ears. “Since I am minding you, they will call me when she wants you. Come on, we need to get you ready.”

“Nice to meet you,” Rakshasa called after them as they left. “Looking forward to more!”

Slave stood at attention, her hands at her sides.

She was nude again, her skin shining with moisturizer. She stood in Mistress Arriket’s bedroom, her feet bare on deep carpet, facing a very large bed.

Slave waited.

What would she feel when she saw her? Would Mistress Arriket be pleased with what slave had become? She had said that they would talk. Would they make love? Slave wanted that very much. Wanted to prove her devotion with her mouth in all ways.

She waited.

The door behind her opened.

Mistress Arriket walked past.

She was nude.

Mistress Arriket walked to the foot of the bed, eight feet away, and sat down. She looked at slave with deep, dark eyes.

She was so beautiful.

Something stirred inside slave, like a dragon waking in its cave. This was her Mistress. Real, physical. Seated before her. Slave would do anything for this woman, anything at all. Mistress Arriket was her true love, her purpose in life, her... her Mistress. Yes. It was not merely ownership. It was deeper than that. Slave’s mind, her very personality, existed simply to perform this woman’s bidding. To please her.

Everything fell into place.

Slave sighed happily, and Mistress Arriket smiled. She stood up from the bed.

“I have something for you,” she said.

Slave remained at attention, quivering only slightly, as Arriket fastened the black collar around her neck. It was smooth and very thin, more a choker than a collar, but when slave felt the heat at the nape of her neck as the collar sealed itself together, she knew it would never, ever come off.

“And now,” Mistress Arriket said, “for your name.”

She looked deep into slave’s eyes. “I’ve given this a lot of thought. ‘Jane Drake’ rather suited you—Jane, because you were really a blank persona, a ‘Jane Doe’, waiting for the chance to be molded into my slave. Drake, because you are so ferocious. A true dragon, striking terror into your enemies and wreaking destruction on all which opposes you.”

Mistress returned to the bed and sat down again. “And now you are my dragon, collared and tamed, eager to turn your fiery gaze in whichever direction I bid you. My beautiful pet dragon. And thus I name you, my slave: you are Draka, my warrior wyrm.”

Draka inhaled. “Yes, my Mistress. I am Draka. I am your slave.”

Mistress Arriket smiled. “You look very good to me, Draka; I might have claimed you on looks alone. And yet your beauty is possibly the least of your wondrousness. It is rare, my slave, very rare indeed, that something truly surprises me. But when you stopped me in that dark hallway, and told me that you wanted to be my slave... I shall remember that moment for ever.”

She leaned back on the bed, parting her legs. “Even before you were my slave you were serving me.”

Draka’s blood thrilled. “Yes, my Mistress.”

“Kneel between my legs, slave.”

“Yes, my Mistress.” Draka stepped forward, lowering herself, until she was on her knees between Mistress Arriket’s smooth legs. Mistress Arriket smelled like clean flesh. Her sex was perfect and Draka yearned to suck on it.

Firm fingers took hold of Draka’s chin, and raised it until she was looking into Mistress Arriket’s eyes.

“I have no need to dominate you, my Draka. You belong to me from the very core of your brain. But you’d like me to, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, my Mistress.”

“Then I shall,” she said, and her eyes swirled liquid black. Draka felt her mind opening like a flower, spreading itself eagerly for the light from that dark sun.

“Tell me, Draka,” came the voice of a Goddess from that sun’s dark heart, “why you gave yourself to me.”

“I...” Draka breathed. She was on her knees, pupils huge, mind open, utterly obedient, and somehow she could see herself, and it was everything she ever wanted.

“My pussy made me do it, my Mistress.” Draka tugged on the leashes of her lax and open brain, forcing it to work, to provide the words that would let her answer her Mistress. “Once I knew that you were real, that you were... you, becoming your slave was all I could think about. My brain, my rational thought... I tallied the things I knew, about the iquari, about you, and what I discovered was that you were a kind owner, that you were good to your slaves and required only that they, that we, become your absolute thralls. I knew it was not just brainwashing—that you used brain surgery, biochemical alteration, technologies forbidden anywhere in Advisory space. Permanent, irrevocable mind-slavery. And my pussy demanded that I submit to it.”

Draka floated in liquid blackness, her mouth producing the words that her brain formed in response to Mistress Arriket’s question; nothing else existed.

“I needed to become your slave, my Mistress. My pussy told me so. All of the things a normal, rational woman would consider to be bad, my pussy told me I desperately desired. I had never... you were a gift, Mistress, a chance at something that I had not believed existed in this universe—utter slavery to a worthy Mistress. Once I knew you were real, I burned to submit to you.”

A tongue parted her lips and Draka realized sluggishly it was her own. “I was always... decisive. Yet it was hard: everything I had learned my whole life told me I should be afraid, that choosing slavery was madness. But I needed it, Mistress, I wanted it more than anything I had ever wanted before, and... and you... even if you had heard me and fled, had escaped the trap and I never saw you again, you were too perfect to let them catch you.”

Water was leaking down Draka’s cheeks. “Thank you, Mistress. Thank you for taking me. Thank you for turning me into... this. I love you, so much....”

Her head drooped and Draka realized that Mistress Arriket was stroking her hair. “There, there, my dragon,” she said. “There, there.”

Draka fell still and savored the feel of her Mistress petting her.

“I am a predator, Draka,” Mistress Arriket said. “I am fitted to be so by nature, or perhaps by science—but regardless, I take what I want and enjoy doing so. I feel that this brings with it a certain... responsibility, for those humans I reshape into my pets. But you... you gave me a gift, Draka, and I have not before received its equal. I am surprised and gratified by how much becoming my slave has completed you. Of course, at this point you would be equally eager to obey me had you resisted ever so hard—most of my pets did. Your new brain guarantees your love and obedience. But I think you would be this eager even had I reshaped your mind less, and that stirs... interesting feelings within me.”

Both of her hands were on Draka’s head now, fingers wrapping behind it, turning her face back upward. Mistress Arriket was smiling at her, her eyes dark and deep but not liquid black with the use of her power.

“But there will be much time to think of this, my pet, and I am eager to know you now in the wordless way of pleasure.” Mistress Arriket shifted her hips, raising her slick sex from the surface of the bed.

“Lick me,” she instructed, and Draka moaned giddily as she leaned forward to obey.

Later, they lay together on the bed. Mistress Arriket stroked Draka’s breast absent-mindedly, and Draka purred.

“Draka, you pose an interesting challenge.”

“How is that, my Mistress?”

“You’re good at too many things. Do I keep you here as a sex-pet? Do I make you my pilot? Do I send you to infiltrate Agency space and bring me things I wish? So many choices, all of them you would be good at.”

“I will obey you utterly, whatever you choose.”

“Yes, of course you will.” Mistress Arriket ran her fingers up to Draka’s face, dipped them into her mouth. Then she sat up, sliding back on the bed until her back was against the headboard, which was padded and more of a giant cushion than a board of any sort.

She pulled on Draka’s shoulders and Draka quickly sat up and slithered backward until she was leaning against Mistress Arriket’s chest. “Relax,” Mistress Arriket told her, and she did.

Hands came around either side to fondle Draka’s breasts. Draka squirmed a little in pleasure.

“Tell me, my dragon,” Mistress Arriket said quietly, “tell me a story. Tell me about... about your assassination of Lee Kweng-Bac.”

Only people very high up in S&S knew about that mission. Idly, Draka realized that Mistress Arriket must have some very good sources indeed. She remembered the datapad Arriket had held, back in the last few hours of Jane Drake. Draka reached into Jane Drake’s other memories.

“Of course, Mistress. I was on Boruk when the regional director told me that she had received an assignment for me, and that it was classified at higher even than her own grade. I had to travel to Rakarta station to view it—” Draka shivered, for Mistress Arriket had slid one hand lower, and was now slowly stroking between her legs. “...had to travel to Rakarta, where they had a sufficiently secure room...”

It took Draka three orgasms before she reached the actual assassination; more importantly, she was allowed to tongue Mistress Arriket to her own climax afterward.

Later, she told more stories.