The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Damon’s cock pistoned repeatedly into Svetlana’s ass as he rewarded her for a job well done. The portable heart-monitor he wore registered his accelerated pulse as his orgasm approached, and then he was spraying the inside of her colon with his seed. He wiped himself off on her white lab coat and put his boxers back on. He grinned up at the device, which looked a lot like giant ball bearing with Cylon eyes. A jumping, red line synched with his heart-monitor. Phillips wouldn’t find him as easy to defeat as he had the government’s operatives. If he flat lined, the device would detonate. If he didn’t like the way things were going, he could yank the cords out with hand or mind. A complex program changed frequency on a pre-determined timing and rotation so the enemy couldn’t simply copy the signal to keep the shit from hitting the fan.

He would catch his primary target on his way home from work. The Orpheus was within walking distance of the local television station, and Victor enjoyed what passed for fresh air and the companionship of his Great Dane. Damon took a taxi, sending a hit-squad to the hotel to take care of the others.

Curiously, the dog was absent when Damon spotted Victor approaching. The man stopped behind a brick portion of the fence, behind which Damon couldn’t see even from his tree-branch perch.

I know you’re there. Victor thought at him.

Likewise. Damon replied.

We both know the gun isn’t going to do you a bit of good. I can stop bullets.

Let’s see you stop this! Damon dropped the gun and launched himself skyward. Victor stayed put until Damon was committed, then launched himself backward at an angle. The force of Damon’s attempted strike shattered the sidewalk. Pedestrians evacuated, needing little mental prodding from Victor, who put out his hand and launched Damon backward. He hit a blue metal mailbox, which bent and pinched him. Damon ripped it to shrapnel and launched the pieces at his foe, who merely put up a force-field. Where’s your puppy? Did he get run over or something? Damon taunted.

My wife and daughter are precogs. Figure it out. Victor responded. Damon launched a powerful attack of pure telekinetic power to shatter his opponent’s shield. The shield changed shape, and Damon’s attack was at the wrong angle, sliding harmlessly off the new configuration. Damon picked up a manhole cover and launched that, but Victor reshaped his shield again, once again neutralizing Damon’s attack.

STOP THAT! Damon exclaimed mentally, the angry transmission so powerful that anyone with the slightest bit of sensitivity could hear it for miles in every direction.

I’ll stop doing it when it stops working. Victor responded. Damon sent dust flying in an attempt to blind his foe, then launched himself into the air, forming a hammer of telekinetic force with which he slammed at the place he’d last seen Victor. Over here, genius. Damon homed in on the taunt and found his opponent across the street. He pushed off from the world, his hammer at the ready. Victor formed a bullet-shaped force field around himself. A cylinder of telekinetic force formed behind him, expanding to create a vacuum. As Damon approached his target, Victor let air pressure send him flying, his aerodynamic force field allowing him to pierce the air like a giant rifle round.

You won’t escape that easily! Damon’s mind roared, propelling himself forward while surrounded by a wing-shaped field that allowed him to slice easily through the air in pursuit of his quarry. He fired a beam of pure psychic energy, which his enemy easily dodged. Enraged, Damon increased his speed. Abruptly, Victor flattened his field into an upright disc with a fist-shaped projection in the back. The abrupt loss of speed was too quick for Damon, who hit it head on. He felt several bones in his face break, but he merely healed himself, and stopped his fall before he could splat on the pavement below.

“I can see the monster they put in your mind.” Victor said. The words brought a brief mental image of his alien benefactors, accompanied by the sense of fear and doom that had been plaguing his sleep. Damon shook his head.

“You mean my powers?” Damon asked.

“I mean the controls they put in your head so you can never turn against them.” Victor responded. “You don’t even know how your powers work. It’s all subconscious; you decide you want something, the program does it for you. If you found out what the aliens were really like and tried to turn against them, your powers wouldn’t work. If you succeed in your mission, or if you take too long for their liking, the program will stop your heart. Just like that.” Victor snapped his fingers.

“Shut up! You have no fucking clue what you’re talking about!” Damon roared.

“And you have no clue what you’re doing.” Victor countered. Damon lashed out. Victor parried easily. Attack, parry, attack, parry, attack, parry. On and on it went, up and down the shores of the Brazos River. Damon was getting mad. He felt alarm, followed by dismay, coming from his base. A silvery object carried away the hospital roof, with something large and round stuck to the bottom.

“No!” he exclaimed as the object zoomed away to the vanishing point and beyond.

“And it’s a drone, so nobody’s going to get hurt now if you yank those cords out of your heart monitor.” Victor said. “In fact, let me help you.” The monitor flew off Damon’s person and shattered into a million pieces. An explosion sounded across town. Damon laughed as he watched the Orpheus implode.

“Well, looks like something’s gone right for me today.” Damon laughed.

“My wife and daughter are precogs, remember?” Victor responded. “They saw this coming. The Orpheus was closed for a ‘health inspection’ and the staff evacuated. I’m a little upset with the government anyway since they redirected all my tax dollars from when I married Inet to their G.O.L.E.M. project, so I’ll take any deduction I can get at this point.”

“Well at least you’re homeless!” Damon snarled.

“Nah, we were going to move into the Pan-Galactic anyway. It’s got five extra floors and it kinda looks like a rocket ship.” Victor responded. “We’ll just hang around in the Mexia Orpheus until everything’s finished. No biggie. There’s just a few more things to make the failure of your masters complete.”

“Yeah?” Damon asked.

“Yeah. First thing is to bring back the real you.”

“The real me?” Damon sneered. He felt something inside him. Something angry.

“The real you,” Victor said, “not this distorted creature whose worst personality traits have been exaggerated and emphasized by psychic surgery.”

“I won’t let that happen.” his mouth said, with another voice. Damon felt like something was in his head, ripping him apart.

Victor was there, inside Damon’s mind. Damon could see the monster now. It had its talons in him, and it was trying to destroy him, but Victor struck at it with a light saber. The fingers were severed from the creature’s hands, and Damon was falling. He pulled the talons out of himself and tried to work his powers, but they wouldn’t activate. At least he had the satisfaction of watching the monster die. He looked down and saw the ground coming up to meet him. He shit himself and screamed.

Victor had him. They were floating over a rocky patch of shoreline that had been underwater in wetter years. Damon hung his head in shame.

“You’re not the first one to lose control of his excretory functions on the way down, kid.” Victor said.

“It’s not that.” Damon said, tears welling up in his eyes. “I turned women into toys, and had a nuclear bomb built and...”

“That wasn’t you.” Victor said.

“You really got rid of the monster? It’s not just hiding somewhere in my skull waiting for revenge, is it?”

“’It’s dead, Jim.’” Victor replied in a passable imitation of Dr. McCoy. “Now, we’ve got some clean-up work ahead of us, and I’m not talking about your pants.”

High above the Earth, a drone shuttle made a beeline for the coordinates with which it had been programmed. When Damon’s heart-monitor was destroyed, the drone was close enough to a cloaked ship that the detonation forced it to decloak. The ship was far too big to be destroyed by such a primitive weapon, but its cloaking device, shields and weapons were disrupted long enough for them to be spotted by six ships belonging to a race of aliens familiar to a small group of humans, since one of its members had founded their little group and taken the Earthly name of Zak Starborn. Its cover blown, the stricken ship tried to flee, but it was too slow, and with shields and weapons useless, was nothing more than a giant target, four thousand kilometers long, two thousand kilometers wide at the aft and tapering to a point at the front. The pursuing vessels chased it all the way to Mercury’s orbit before triggering a power surge in its engines with a well-placed tachyon burst that sent it plunging into the sun, jammed in overdrive. The explosion of the volatile fuel material in the engine room looked like a smallish solar flare from Earth.

Back on the planet, Damon looked at his face one more time in the mirror to make sure no traces left of the alter-self the monster persona had created in his features.

Kinshi Corporation was gone. The cash from the sale of its assets had disappeared from the accounts, leaving six dollars and sixty-six cents in each as a joke. With nothing left but a roofless old hospital, a radioactive limo and an RV that had been ridden hard and put up wet, they wouldn’t be blackmailing anyone in the near future. The former president had been brought up from the living nightmare the demon had plunged him into, only to wake up to a different kind of nightmare. At least he wouldn’t be homeless. His daughter had testified against him in court, calling his blackmailing tactics despicable.

Despicable. That reminded Damon of the aliens, the Predator-ankylosaur centaur things that had used his desire for revenge and twisted it for their own ends. There were few sounds in their vocal repertoire that could be replicated by humanoids, so most races simply made up their own names for the species. Except for the ones with no real right to talk, most of the names translated out to Despicable.

“Come on back to bed, honey.” Tetsuko said, wrapping her arms around him from behind. Maria and Svetlana agreed wholeheartedly with the notion. “I swear to you, you look nothing like the demon.” The others readily agreed with that, and he could feel the truth of their words. He kissed Tetsuko, then Maria, then Svetlana. The others had gone back to their old lives, after the medics Victor kept on staff assured them that any physical traces of their ordeal had been erased. He closed his eyes and basked in the glow of his trio’s love. They cuddled around him as he levitated the comforter over them. His body was healed, thanks to his new powers—powers which were better than the ones the Despicable had given him, and which he was being taught how to control. His heart still bore scars, however, which would take longer to heal. His girls were working on it. Svetlana laughed heartily and disappeared under the blankets. It was easy to tell where she was, however, because her mouth latched onto his cock like a calf at a teat.

“Mmm, you’re getting good at that.” he groaned, feeling himself hardening.

I should hope so, I’ve been practicing on you for a while now. Svetlana thought, projecting her thoughts up at him so she wouldn’t have to disengage her mouth from its task. Her tongue swirling and wriggling, she coaxed the semen from his balls like a kid waiting for candy to come out of a machine.

“Hey, two point three seconds faster than last time, ‘Lana!” Maria said, holding up a digital stopwatch.

“I’ve still got the record.” Tetsuko taunted. Thanks to his healing abilities, Damon was able to recover faster—which was fortunate, because Tetsuko wasn’t waiting around.

“Ah, damn, she beat her own record by half a second!” Maria complained. Tetsuko licked her cum-laden lips smugly before kissing Damon on the cheek.

“Your go!” Svetlana said, taking the stopwatch from Maria, who applied herself eagerly to her task. She ended up tying Svetlana’s time.

“The winner, and still champeen!” Tetsuko exclaimed, holding up both of her hands in victory signals.

“Oh, well, gives us something to shoot for, doesn’t it ‘Lana?” Maria remarked after hearing her result.

“Whatever makes you happy, girls.” Damon said tiredly. They put their hands on his deflating nine-inch rod, sighing happily as they slid into slumber alongside him. There was little enough happiness in the world, he wasn’t going to rain on theirs by dwelling on the work that was ahead of him—and the others in the Foundation, incipient though it was. Time enough for that when it was upon him.