The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Akiko’s New Protégé

Part Three

The people and events in this story come from my brain, not the real world. Regardless of what that tells you about my brain, it means that I’m not writing about you, your mom, your friends, or your friends’ friends. So you can’t sue me. Neener neener.

If you’re underage in your territory (and you know what I mean), then read something else, please. If you’re easily offended by sexually explicit fetish content, may I suggest reading something else? If you’re easily offended by sexual content and are determined to help yourself to a dash of moral outrage, I put it to you this way: you have too much time on your hands.

© 2003 by Aerosol Kid. Protected under the Berne Convention. Yes, my erotica is protected by copyright law.

* * *

Devon was a liability now. That’s how I was supposed to think, but I couldn’t quite see her that way. We weren’t really supposed to be brainwashing each other in Keeley’s office, and if anyone in this busy GIA branch building were to figure out what we were up to, they’d most likely object. A lot. My poor little sidekick had been misfiring on us, so I had to mist her with whatever-it-was that Jack had given me in Norway. She was breathing calmly now as I held her in my arms, but even if Keeley and I could get her on her feet, she sure wouldn’t seem normal to anyone we passed in the hall. This was our problem, but thanks to Keeley’s trigger I wasn’t equipped to think outside the box. I was meant to absorb suggestions like a horny sponge, not make decisions. The only way out of my listless, circular thoughts was through Keeley’s words. Still...

“I wish you hadn’t done that,” Keeley remarked as she paced the floor. “Why did you, by the way?”

I looked at her stupidly for a moment, finding I didn’t have a ready answer. “I’m not sure. I guess I was concerned about attracting attention,” I decided. “Sorry, ma’am.”

“Her reaction to programming was incorrect. Do you still think she’s a valuable asset?”

Even in my blunted state, the coldness of her words almost made me shiver. If I didn’t think Devon was useful to the people pulling our strings, Keeley meant to cancel her. “Yes ma’am. Even if I she hadn’t served The Plan in Oslo, I would’ve snagged her. She’s dangerous, but if she can be controlled she’ll be invaluable.” There was no way for me to lie, so I was relieved to hear myself save Devon’s life.

Keeley evaluated us without a trace of emotion. I clutched Devon protectively as I stared back. The clock on the wall marked time in insinuating ticks.

“Then get her up,” she ordered finally.

Devon could walk, but she was in the Land of La-La. The spray was supposed to put her in a deep, receptive trance like mine, but instead she was completely closed off. As if she was still fighting like hell against us trying to get in her head. I started to wonder how I’d been able to do it so easily before, and how I’d emerged from our hot night together with just minor scrapes and dings.

Predictably, several people in the halls inquired after Devon’s well being. Keeley told them that she’d had some kind of seizure, and that we were on the way to the infirmary. Just as predictably and lucky for us, they kept their questions to themselves. The infirmary was where we were going all right, but Keeley didn’t mention what we were going to do to Devon once we got there.

She’d made a coded call on her cell before we left her office. Jill McLeod-the agent who had broken her the night before-was waiting for us in a spare medical bay, in the underground bowels of the GIA SF building. I saw what Keeley had meant by her offhanded observation about her: she was statuesque, lean and firm, but still very round in a couple of my favorite places. I loved her blue eyes so much that I couldn’t be mad at her anymore for jumping Keeley’s bones before I’d go to.

I’m sort of breezing through all this because it’s still fuzzy. In fact, I’m getting kind of spacey just thinking about it. I don’t know what Jill did to Devon, because Keeley took me aside and made the bottom drop out of my head. I mean, every time I thought I couldn’t get more dazed and unfocused she led me even deeper. There seemed to be no end to the amount of information I could retain, and I was kind of amazed at how busy I was going to be for the next several weeks. At the same time, I was disappointed that she didn’t take advantage of me in my vulnerable state, or let me get on my knees and do the stuff to her that I know she likes.

I don’t remember anything after that until we touched down at Narita and rolled up to our private hangar, which is fine with me because I get really bored over oceans. It was night and I was back where I was born, which made me intensely happy as usual. As I stretched and stood up I noticed that Keeley had left me with a couple of parting gifts: my hair had been lovingly braided in pigtails and I was wearing a very expensive (and borderline slutty) black dress. Keeley’s sweet like that. Devon had just changed into a classy cocktail number, but she looked as awkward as a teenage prom date. Lovely as she was, you really couldn’t take the shit-kicking secret agent out of her. Apparently Agent Jill McLeod had fixed her though, because she was all smiles.

“I’ve never been to Japan,” she enthused. “Would you mind showing me around?”

I grabbed my shoulder bag and shooed her toward the hatch, feeling strange and invigorated and sexy all at the same time. “It’s my obligation as your senior officer, Ms. Knightley. But if I don’t have noodles soon I’m gonna have to hurt someone.”

I tried to ring Nina on the ride into the city. Since my memory of the previous three days was mostly fiction, I didn’t feel the guilt from everything I’d been up to. “G’day,” greeted Nina on our answering machine, “you have reached Nina and Akiko. We’re away on business, so if you’re Viv or Susan you’ll just have to get rotten by yourselves. Leave a thing after the thing...”

This was news to me. What business did Nina have, exactly? Last time we’d spoken, she hadn’t said a word about it. “Forget something baby?” I asked the answering machine. “Like where I can reach you? You think? Call me.”

* * *

That night I realized that Devon Knightley is my kind of people. I’d thought she was a snotty little upstart when we’d first met. That was one end of my Devon spectrum. My memories of brainwashing her during our red-hot tumble in the hay were blessedly hidden away, but that was the other end. After a few beers with her, Devon has a way of deciding you’re okay, if you’re lucky, and revealing a quiet charm that wins you over before you know it. She started to relax as we barhopped in Harajuku. By round three or four, she seemed as comfortable as she would’ve been in her neighborhood pub, and she had an endless supply of good work stories.

“So I give him the pills,” she was telling me. “And he says, ‘That’s it? You’re kicking me out?’ And I say, ‘Sod off. It’s not my fault you drank the water.’”

I was in mid-swallow and narrowly avoided a spit-take. “Oh, he totally had it coming,” I told her as I wiped my mouth. “There’s nothing worse than being stuck with an idiot on ops.”

For the eighth time that night, she gave me this mock-exasperated look and a shake of her head that seemed to say, “How is it that everyone in the world doesn’t think exactly like we do?” It was getting cuter every time she did it. Then she got a glimpse at the clock behind the bar. “Oh, damn. How together do I have to be in the morning?”

I pulled rank with a certain inebriated bravado. “We can pretty much show up when we feel like it. Since we started this party in Norway, don’t you think we deserve it?”

She considered just how professional she should act in front of her potential future boss, before breaking out in a smile. “Yeah. We kind of do.”

So we toured more bars, and since we were dressed to the nines, she fielded drink offers on our behalf from many well-meaning guys, with just the appropriate regret. She’d said she had never been here, but she had this whole Japan thing nailed. Then I had a driver pick us up and take us to the Tokyo Marlin compound—the Mind Control Counterforce of the Global Intelligence Agency. The good folks there thought enough of me to open a second branch in Sydney when I’d moved in with Nina, but I still had a regular suite here that saw a lot of use. It was about to see a little more.

“Your room is right down the hall,” I explained to Devon, drunkenly waving in the direction of my best guess where that was. “Like I said, don’t worry about getting up too early.”

She smiled at some secret. “I’m not quite ready to turn in.”

I pictured Nina then, over Devon’s shoulder. Looking at me quite sternly. “That’s sweet, but I thought you didn’t swing—”

She gripped my shoulders and pinned me against my door. “Maki roll cosine,” she suggested, which didn’t make any sense until she punctuated it with an urgent, wet kiss. “I’m afraid I’ve been programmed to keep you nice and docile tonight,” she half-apologized against my lips.

“Of course,” I said as I bent under the weight of the trigger and her powerful grip. “Please come in.”

The speed with which she got me naked was astounding, but under the circumstances I was grateful. “Let me,” I offered, as I undid all her straps.

It’s hard to undress someone when they’re ramming their tongue down your throat, you’re both drunk and you’ve been hypnotically triggered, so I settled for letting her sit on top of me and amuse herself. She was hell-bent on doing all the work and I really didn’t mind.

“I really want to fuck,” she opined as she paused for breath, “but I can’t stop thinking about what you did to me.”

I grabbed her muscular back to pull her closer. The hypnotic trigger had me so deep that her plum-colored nipples endlessly fascinated me. “What was that?” I asked after lots of licking.

I still had no memory of Oslo, so she did the most logical thing to help me out. She pushed me down on the bed and shuffled on her knees up to my head. I was suddenly face to ‘gina with a very anxious Devon Knightley. “Oh, that...” I realized, before she pressed herself against my mouth.

Then I had warm thighs against my ears and a wonderland of slick folds to explore. I just did what comes natural in those situations, which got Devon off in just under three minutes. She was so excited about this that she did a 180 and attached herself to my face again, making me a six to her nine. She was pretty new at this sort of thing, but she made up for it in enthusiasm. A good attitude and cuteness can go a long way, as far as I’m concerned, so we got each other off, almost simultaneously, in another few minutes.

The next thing I remember is her turning the lights down low and pulling my head onto her lap. As I gazed up at her crazy curls, she whispered breathy instructions to me, punctuating each one with a stroke of my hair. The reinforcement of my to-do list for tomorrow was delivered as extra-sexy pillow talk that went with me into dreamland.

Thinking back on it, and acknowledging that Devon was into boys when left to her own devices, she did quite a job of making me her personal toy and keeping me mindfucked and happy that night. You had to hand it to her.

* * *

“I trust that your trip was productive?” Dr. Natsumi Sato, poised and elegant in her lab coat and short skirt, was telling me in Japanese that she was pleased to see me.

“It was quite rewarding, thanks.” I loved the way she teased me with that sleepy smile. Somewhere along the way, she had ditched her trademark eyeglasses and opted for contacts. Her big brown eyes were to die for.

We were alone in the back corner of her impressive lab. The other doctors and minions were usually everywhere, but this morning I had the yummy Dr. Sato all to myself. I had sort of seen to that. She was fussing over some new piece of equipment in her unceasing efforts to fight mind control. “You know, I can’t seem to get this right,” she said. “I was using it to deprogram Agent Hirayama yesterday. She’s fine, except she still gets aroused whenever green tea is mentioned.” Her long brown hair wouldn’t quite stay out of her way and she batted it absently with one hand.

I hefted a briefcase onto the table. “Then I think you’ll be interested in this.” I flicked open the latches, opened it and swiveled it toward her. Inside were three enigmatic looking black hardware components, bordered by blue packing foam. I smiled and let her step in front of me.

“How strange. These look like they are for unnhh...”

She didn’t get the rest of her words out because of my blow to the back of her neck. It was just a love tap, to stun her for the few minutes it would take to install my hardware. And strap her down. I was pretty excited about that, because having her wispy body sagging against me, limp as a rag doll, was tres hot.

I’d just finished lowering Dr. Sato to the floor when I heard a tap-tap on the main door to the lab. Devon had materialized on schedule. “No one gets in,” I told her, as she slipped inside and drew her piece.

I removed the access panel to one of the more industrial-strength looking deprogramming couches. The components that Jill McLeod had given me were well designed. They snapped snugly into place around the existing machinery, and I just had to reconnect a few cables. Then I powered down and restarted the system, which was now a powerful mind control inducer. Keeley had carefully trained me to do this while Agent McLeod had worked on Devon.

Dr. Sato is a bit of a beanpole, so it was easy to scoop her up off the floor and sit her down on the bay bed. Her head bonked into mine with a swish of her brown hair, and I unbuttoned her lab coat. It wasn’t part of my programming, but I just couldn’t stop myself from taking off her blouse, too. To my delight, she had on a black latex bra. Curiouser and curiouser... I left bra, skirt and stockings alone and gently lowered her head onto a sterile, white pillow. My timing was pretty good, because I activated the induction sequence just as her eyes began to flutter open. Her mouth was already trying to form words, and the plum lip-gloss she wore just made me want to slide my tongue into her mouth. Instead, I bent down to hear what she was trying to say, loving the strange buzz that massaged my mind as I got a little too close to the induction field.

“Masumi-san...” she whispered. “How is this possible?”

I wanted to give her a quick peck on the lips, but it turned into more because I’m such a perv, and because I’d been wanting to do that to her for a really long time. She wasn’t really kissing me back, but that didn’t stop me. “I’ve enhanced your equipment. You won’t be able to resist it now.”

Her eyes rolled back in her head as she shivered from the relentless induction field. “No. I mean, how did they get to you?”

Natsumi was always the consummate professional, it seemed. Here she was, getting her brain melted in her own lab, and she was offended that the resistance training she’d given me had a loophole. I licked her shoulder and pulled her bra strap across my spit. I’d been programmed to use any means necessary to secure Dr. Sato, but looking back on it now, I feel awful about how far I went. I’m amazed she still speaks to me, but while we were picking up the pieces of this whole mess she made it pretty clear that she had enjoyed the chance to explore the prickly sexual tension that existed from the moment we met.

“I take it you’ve heard of Stingray?” I teased.

She swallowed and tried to get up. “Stingray was cancelled four years ago.”

I brushed her bangs with my fingers and pushed her back down. “No, it’s alive and well, it’s just black charter now. It became the unofficial GIA division for mind control technologies. Marlin’s polar opposite, you could say.” I paused to watch another shiver run through her. She was starting to go under. “They were directed to start an uprising. You and I are very important acquisitions for them.”

“Who directed...?”

“I only know what I need to know, Doctor. And I know you’ll be joining us.”

Across the room, Devon shifted on her heels uncomfortably. “What are you saying to her?” she asked, because we were still conversing in Japanese.

My eyes flicked from Natsumi’s to Devon’s. Her expression was neutral, as was mine. Triggered agent regarded triggered agent. “I’m taking over her will. Jealous?”

She blinked, conflicted by my mean words and by her growing discomfort with what I was doing to the good doctor. “I just...”

“You just watch the door,” I finished for her. I can’t believe what a bitch I was being.

“M-m-masumi-san,” Dr. Sato attempted. “I would like for you to know that I’m trying not to take this personally.” It was the last thing she said of her own free will that day.

I slipped her other bra strap down to find a very erect nipple. I encouraged it with my palm as the last of Natsumi’s resistance faded. “I understand,” I said, “but you are now totally under my control.”

“Yes, Masumi-san...”

I wished that she wasn’t so out of it, because I wanted her to touch me. As Devon watched the door in stoic silence, I found Dr. Sato’s discreet stash of sex toys. She didn’t keep them in plain view—for fear of freaking out the compromised agents timidly reporting for deprogramming sessions—but I knew that she deployed them pretty regularly. There was a formidable pink vibrator in the bottom of the drawer. I wondered if she ever played with it by herself, after hours. Later, Dr. S admitted that I had fulfilled more than a few fantasies.

I flipped up her skirt, yanked down her panties and teased her I-shaped, moistened thatch. She bent her knees, pulling her feet up to her ass in a pose that was at once frog-like and provocative. “Oh yes,” she invited, already on the verge.

I slipped the first inch of the vibrator inside her and switched it on. “You will follow my orders without question.”

She flinched and bit her lip, relaxing as I worked more of her new best friend into her. She started to nod in time with me, but came as soon as we settled into a rhythm. Her teeth retained her lower lip as she winced and shook. “I will obey your orders without question,” she remembered, as she took the vibrator to the hilt.

I grabbed her hand to put it up my skirt, but my spook instincts kicked in. I had a clear view out the glass door to the lab, and Miyu Ohmori was coming down the hall.

My pale former partner’s hand was frozen in mid-wave. Her gaze locked to mine and I realized that she knew exactly what I was up to. Miyu knew me all too well. She turned on one foot and started to run back the way she came.

What came out of my mouth next still astounds me. “Shoot her!” I instructed Devon, who was tracking Miyu in a daze. Words flowed out of me to Natsumi, who began to tentatively rise up onto her elbows. Her hair spilled across her cheeks, which made her look even more vulnerable. The vibrator still hummed inside her. I could tell this perplexed her.

Devon sprinted out the door and drew a bead on Miyu. I was dismayed and infuriated to see the gun wobble. Devon pulled one hand away from her semi-automatic to rub her eyes, as Miyu disappeared around the corner. When you’re following orders in a deep, luxurious trance, the weirdest thing possible is to see your brainwashed minion resist your orders. Inconceivably, Devon dropped her gun and started to run after Miyu. I supposed that Jill McLeod hadn’t really fixed her after all, but Devon will be telling you all about that soon enough.

An alarm blared over the lab speakers, and I knew I had to get the doctor out of there but quick, or The Plan would slip behind schedule.

I had the presence of mind to gently twist the vibrator out of her soaked sex and throw her shirt at her. “We’re leaving,” I explained. She stared at me dumbly. “Now!” I growled, as she frantically pulled up her panties. Poor Dr. Sato. Remind me to apologize to her some more.

To Be Continued