The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“This is a terrible idea, Mandy!” Marcus said to his boss. Mandy was behind her big desk, the expensive piece of furniture calling attention to just how petite she was. Mandy was barely 4′9 in her shoes, and if she’d bought the desk to distract people from her height, she’d failed. “China doll” was a common comment Marcus had heard.

Not anyone who worked here, though. Mandy was Japanese, after all.

“Do you know what an even more terrible idea is, Marcus?” Mandy asked. “Going out of business. We’ve had years of testing on your project, and what have we gotten?” she leaned forward, her night-black hair haloing her face. “Some articles in Popular Discovery and a few news stories, but nothing else. Our investors don’t want puff pieces, they want something they can use to make money.”

“And the FDA wants confirmed trials!” Marcus said. “Look, yes, we have a health treatment. Good news, it doesn’t poison the people. Bad news, it uses nanites, and we can’t get approved for clinical trials. Not yet.” Marcus stared at Mandy, trying to stare her down.

Impossible. Mandy had more spine in her little finger than Marcus did his entire body, and he knew it.

And Mandy knew it.

“The reason we can’t get approved for clinical trials is that the FDA doesn’t have any trials for nanotech infusions, which is their problem, not ours.” She paused. “Oh wait, it very much is our problem, because they’re not the ones looking going broke in the face!”

“And are they entirely wrong?” Marcus said. “Look, Mandy, I helped come up with this.” In other words, I invented the process, but hey, It was a work for hire product. “But it’s something that can go through its own iterations, and that means maybe we need—“

“Oh, for God’s sake, Marcus!” Mandy said. “I’m not a braniac like you, but even I know that the implanted nanites can’t evolve. They do exactly what the main computer tells them to, and even it can’t modify them in situ. The only thing it can do is send a hard-coded kill order which can’t be changed. Right?”

“Right.”

“And so, there’s not a chance of anything going wrong, because we have the kill-switch. And that means that everyone at the FDA, and you, are being a bunch of old maids!”

“Look, Mandy, it doesn’t matter what I say. We can’t run any clinical trials until…”

“Wait a minute,” Mandy said. “How about something that’d get a lot of people interested? How about… cosmetic work?

“I—how is that going to help?”

“First of all, it’s elective. Second of all, we can sell it to make people more interested in our product, which might put some pressure on the FDA. You could promote it as, I dunno… Venus, the form of perfection.”

“Big boobs, eh?”

“What a lot of people want, and ours would be all natural.” Mandy paused. “And sell it as a fertility enhancement.”

“How is it a fertility enhancement?”

“Guy’s will want to fuck ’em.” Mandy said. “Fertility enhancement.”

“Do you think that’s going to help?”

“Better than your idea of wait to go out of business!” Mandy shook her head. “Now get something coded up so we can show the investors.”

Marcus opened his mouth, then closed it. “Right, Mandy,” he finally said, turning and walking out of the room.

The lab didn’t look like most movies’ vision of a lab. There were no vials full of bubbling potions, no glassware, no chemicals stacked on the shelving. What was worked on in this lab was too tiny to work on with such methods. Instead, there were the big fabricator units, hooked up to the input terminal by landlines. Nobody was going to risk some hacker getting control of the nanite forge. Marcus walked through the electrostatic field, designed to ensure that no nanites could get out in an operational form, and waved at Sheila.

“How was The Bitch?” Sheila asked. The redhead looked up from where she was working on some records, her green eyes gleaming in the light.

“If we don’t have something to show, we’re going out of business, ad nauseum,” Marcus said, letting his eyes flick over Sheila’s curvy little body. Oh, she was taller than Mandy, but who wasn’t?

“Oh lovely, and none of us with golden parachutes.” Sheila said, stretching, her breasts pressing into her T-shirt. “Say, Marcus, tell the nanites to make the bitch nicer.” She paused. “Imagine Mandy, with a smile on her face, looking around at all of us workers and asking how to make our day better. I know it’s impossible, but just imagine if it was the case!” Then she grinned. “Who knows, maybe Dave would get that blow job from the boss he keeps fantasizing about.”

“Sure,” Marcus said. He grinned and typed in. “Make the bitch nicer.” The computer dinged in annoyance.

“What was that?”

“It was too broad, so it tossed it out. Garbage code, you know.”

“Thought your baby was smart enough to parse garbage?”

“It’s not sapient,” Marcus said. He rolled his eyes. “Do I have to give the speech again?”

“Yes, Marcus, give the speech again! It makes me so hot!”

“Fine. The computer can understand us, sort of, but it’s not conscious, it’s not sapient. It’s not like a human.”

“So better in all respects.”

Marcus shrugged and wadded up a page of printout and then tossed it at Sheila. “Get to your work, wench. I have to tell the computer how boobs are the most important thing in the universe.”

“Oh, yes! Hey maybe you could give Mandy a smile AND some big boobs.” Sheila giggled. “Just imagine her trying to give one of her lectures, with a pair or tits that keep pulling her shirt out!”

Marcus rolled his eyes, but on the other hand… Mandy would look silly doing that. Trying to wag her finger while her tits jiggled and bounced with every demand. In fact…

Hell, let’s not dream. Last thing you want is to show Sheila what your erection looks like. Not that it was that great. Marcus had long since given up hopes of being some kind of physical god.

That was when Marcus bent down to start coding the nanite program. He didn’t bother to start from scratch—the only command in was a garbage command the computer would simply ignore. “Right, so we need instructions regarding big boobs…”

For this, I’m paying 250K in student debt.

On the other hand, Mandy is right—they’re likely to be less anal about a cosmetic procedure than they are an actual medical procedure like, I dunno, curing cancer.

He spent the next few hours typing in the commands. Occasionally, the computer wanted more data, so Marcus let it download pictures of beauty, specifically big-boobed beauty. The screen flickered. Right now, the computer was running thousands of simulations. Not just of the initial procedure, but what would come after, to make certain that there would be no side effects. That was something else they were planning on marketing… the world’s best diagnostic system.

Well, once they had something else ready. Mandy was paranoid about someone coming in and buying the company if they knew what they had.

Paranoid bitch, Marcus chuckled. “Why don’t you make her a little more easygoing?” he told the computer, keying in the command, and watching the expected garbage error appear.

After all, computers couldn’t understand a persons psychology. Not really.

Then he touched the final compile button.

“Well, I’m done,” he said.

“Wow, only four hours for big boobs. You know, there are doctors who can do that in thirty minutes,” Sheila said.

“Yes, but can they do it with the power of science?” Marcus asked.

“Sure. They also have the power of charging ten thou or so. So, um, how much is this treatment gonna cost?”

“I leave that to Mandy. Once programmed, the nanites really don’t cost that much at all.” Marcus looked around. The rest of the building was quiet now, most of the lab techs heading off for the weekend. Mandy liked to employ mostly women, which, you know, might be something for the EEOC, but as bad as Marcus was with love, who was he to complain about being one of the few guys in the building? “Well, it’s time to head home,” he told Sheila. “You staying?”

“Nah, I’m gonna go home and watch a movie.” Sheila said, standing up and stretching.

Marcus nodded. “Yeah, pretty late.” He glanced at the computer, and put the screen into sleep mode. “Carry out my commands, oh demon of science, for tomorrow, we shall present the evil queen with the fruits of our labor… BIG BOOBS!”

“Am I supposed to make thunder sound effects?” Sheila asked.

“Well, It’d help.”

“Crack-com.” Sheila shook her head. “And that’s it for my Igor imitation.”

Hours later, the building was silent. In the main lab, the computer continued working, spinning simulation after simulation. Those simulations would go into programming the nanite colonies that would actually enter the subject’s body and enact the desired changes.

One colony to a body. That safety precaution was ironclad, to prevent a gray goo style disaster.

But while not sapient, the AI programming was very complex, and Marcus had given it some very vague requests. Make a woman attractive, so that men would desire to breed with her.

That sounded simple, but it required far more than mere physical changes. What if, for example, she did not want to be impregnated? The program mulled over that for several minutes, as years of time passed inside its mind. It then accessed the Internet, a feature that had been enabled by a bored tech who wanted to keep up on the news while programming and was annoyed that Mandy had forbidden the use of personal data devices. A feature Marcus was not aware of.

Females desired strong male figures who could protect and support them. That was the gist of much of the information. So, the nanites would also have to transform males. Not simply physically, but mentally. Other desires included males who were protective and provided direction. That could be achieved, as well as the changes in musculature and body shape.

But that would not be enough. The program sulked for a few cycles and then started looking for other data. If the program had not been given sufficient information…

It started shuffling through the commands which had originally been tossed out.

“Make the bitch nicer.”

A complex command. Who was it referring to? Given the nature of the term, the AI concluded it was referring to all females. But “nicer” was a relative term.

However, the primary directive was for more attractive females. An attraction to strong males? That was one possibility. Several other sexual characteristics were examined and placed into the nanite matrix.

“Why don’t you make her a little more easygoing?” Taken in relation to the rest of the directives, it was plain what the intention was for this. More willing to follow the directives of a male partner.

Or partners. Leaving that decision up to them would also fit into the command.

The AI paused for several more cycles and, with a metaphorical nod of satisfaction, started programming the nanite matrices. One program for males, one for females, so that when they were injected or swallowed the nanites, the proper programs would be initiated.

But then the AI paused for a few microseconds on another word.

“Make.”

Make implied an action to transform an object and a person from an external source. It did not imply leaving the action to simply be delivered by a third party. It would have to be independent. The command to avoid nanites that could survive in the air was a core command, but…

The AI considered. That was to prevent an uncontrolled outbreak.

This would be controlled, limited to the seed nanites produced by the computer. Thus, anyone with proper authority could stop production with a simple order.

The AI’s programs gave a tiny shrug of satisfaction. All program parameters were now met.

Job complete, the computer started fabricating the seed nanites.