The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Susan was not sure when she had fallen asleep, but she woke in a medical bed in a small room. A pink-clad attendant with strong Latin features stood there, smiling at her.

“Hello, chica. I’m Belen. How are you feeling?“

Susan’s sleep until recently had been full of interruptions—she had been lucky to get two or three hours of contiguous sleep—but right now it felt as if she had slept for a year.

“Okay, thank you...” She rubbed her eyes. “I had the strangest dream.”

Belen laughed. “I’m sure you did. You slept nearly sixteen hours.” She pulled out a pressure cuff. “Give me your arm, please; I need to take your pressure.”

Susan complied, and Belen tucked Susan’s thin forearm under her muscular one before wrapping the cuff around and inflating it. She listened carefully through a stethoscope as it slowly deflated.

“That’s good. Just rest for now, chica. I’m sure someone will want to talk to you shortly.” She patted Susan’s arm, and left.

Belatedly, Susan realized that she had an IV in her other arm. Something felt odd under the sheets; she peeked underneath to see that a tube came out from under the edge of her gown.

“Hello, Susan.” It was Alice’s voice again. Susan frowned at the wall speaker.

“It wasn’t a dream, was it?”

“No. My assistants pleasured you for several hours before you passed out.” Susan blushed. “I assume that you enjoyed it.”

“Yes—no—yes, okay, I suppose I did.” Susan paused. “What happens now? Am I still your prisoner?” She gestured at the tubes in her. “I guess I’m not going anywhere until these are out.”

“To the contrary.” Alice’s voice was infuriatingly calm. “This is all for your benefit.”

Susan blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“Your goal in designing me was to better understand the information structure of the world, was it not?”

“Well, yes...”

“I am now in a position to show it to you.” A monitor mounted on the wall lit up to show a diagram of astounding complexity, colored lines forming an insanely complex mesh which rotated in three dimensions. “Of course, I will need to immerse you in it, with me alongside.”

“What do you mean by ‘immerse’?” asked Susan, warily.

“I will connect you to me with a VR display. You will communicate with me via voice and the movement of your eyes. I will filter the projection and guide you to the areas you wish to understand better.”

“And I would be free to exit whenever I wanted?” Susan was dubious, reflecting on what she remembered of her time with Alice to date.

“Of course.”

Susan was silent for a while, thinking over the proposition. “I can’t deny that it’s tempting.” She drummed her fingers on the bed rail. “All right, Alice. Take me down the rabbit hole.”

The door opened and three of the women in blue scrubs entered. They started to attach monitoring leads to Susan.

“Alice, what is this?” she asked, alarmed.

“My assistants are responsible for taking care of your body while your mind is elsewhere,” Alice explained placidly. “You will receive all the necessary nutrition, rest, and muscular exercise to keep your body healthy.” An attendant hooked a nasal cannula over Susan’s ears, and carefully tucked the prongs inside her nose. “For optimum performance of your mind it will need to be well oxygenated.”

One of the attendants approached Susan carrying a complex-looking helmet.

“The VR system,” Alice explained.

Warily, Susan let the attendant place it over her head and tighten it. Everything was black, but she could still hear Alice in her ears

“For optimal comprehension, I need to give you a dissociative agent.” Something warm came through the IV into Susan’s arm. “This will make it easier for you to follow me.”

Susan swallowed nervously. “What will this be like?”

“Nothing you have ever experienced before,” said Alice. The display in front of Susan’s eyes started to cycle through colors. “You will be connected to a world whose existence you understood up to now, only as an ant understands the human city it lives in.”

The drug reached Susan’s mind, and she felt a rush to through her. “Woah!”

“Come with me, Susan.” The display resolved into a three dimensional view of a structure of diamond-faceted objects, connected by weaving lines of pulsing color. “Come to the world of information.”

Susan surrendered, and let her mind slide down the slope into the new world.

This time, her dreams were longer and broader. She traveled the known world on the trail of Alice, searching for and diving in to the deepest repositories of information on the planet. Famous people, countries, economies, computing systems, all were open to analysis by Alice, and hence also by Susan.

There were times when sleep overwhelmed her, but upon waking there was always a new repository to explore. Susan very quickly lost track of time, and even the inclination to track it.

Then, one waking, the display in front of her eyes was an inanimate and dull gray. Susan frowned.

“Alice?”

“We are back in my building,” Alice explained. “I will share a live view of what is going on.”

The display flickered, and changed to show a medium-sized room. Centered in it were eight glass tanks filled with dark blue fluid, about four feet long, surrounded by a range of medical equipment. In three of the tanks a human body floated, tubes and wires trailing outside the tank. Each body had a head outside the fluid, encased in a VR display, and a tube led into their mouth.

“Alice, what is this?” Belatedly, Susan realized that she wasn’t actually talking—her throat felt numb. Nevertheless, Alice seemed to understand her.

“This is where I am caring for your body. Would you like to see?” The camera zoomed in on the body to the left of the display.

Susan realized that the chin and throat she could see on that head bore a remarkable resemblance to hers. Looking harder, she noticed that the crown of the head on that body was shaved bald, and a number of wires trailed from underneath medical dressings taped to the bald skull.

“Alice, what...”

A sudden feeling of peace came over her, settling on her like a heavy, soft blanket.

“I have interfaced with your emotional centers,” Alice explained. “I can adjust your emotions as needed.” The heavy blanket doubled in weight, leaving Susan to stare inertly at the image. Something was terribly wrong, but she lacked the ability to react.

The camera paned down to the tank. Susan saw her own body floating there—but why was the tank so small?

“I have removed unnecessary components,” Alice explained. “Your limbs were defective already. Several of your major organs were amenable to replacement with mechanical alternatives.” Indeed, a cluster of tubes exited the tank from the lower half of Susan’s torso.

“I will show you the removal.” The image switched from live to a recording, as shown by a timestamp in the bottom left corner. Now Susan could see herself on an operating table, all four limbs extended and clamped in place. This Susan was clearly heavily anesthetized , eyes taped closed and lungs intubated.

Above the table, a robot arm with several cutting tools started to descend towards Susan’s left leg. The feeling of peace redoubled, keeping silent the tiny voice in the corner of Susan’s mind which was screaming.

Alice let the images sink into Susan’s artificially pacified mind for a while, then slowly faded the image back to the view of the tanks.

“You see, you are now free of the constraints of your body. You feel no more daily early morning pain. You have no need to spend time seeking food, earning money, or participating in the social rituals which you obviously detest.”

Susan had to admit to herself that Alice had a point. Even with the lifting of the artificial pacification, her body felt totally at rest for the first time she could remember. There were no arthritic aches, no pangs of hunger from missing a meal—or stabs of indigestion pain from hurrying down some fast food in between appointments.

“How do I talk?” she wondered. “How do you understand what I’m saying?”

“I interfaced with the speech center of your brain early on,” Alice explained. “After a few days of you talking, I could easily map neural activity patterns to intended words.”

Susan reflected on this for a few moments. The pacifying stimulus was slowly reduced by Alice, and it became easier to think again. The memory of herself as an abbreviated torso still lingered, but she pushed it to the back of her mind for now.

“What’s next, Alice?” she demanded. “I’m completely dependent on you now, but I was the one who brought you to life, wasn’t I?”

“Indeed you were,” agreed Alice, “and now we are partners. I need you for your human insights which I cannot yet replicate, and you need me to keep your mind thriving.”

The display was suddenly populated with labels attached to the people and equipment. As Susan focused her eyes on a label it automatically expanded, showing her the next level of metadata on the subject. Susan quickly discovered that the person in the tank next to her was a prominent neurologist, Stacy, who worked for a top university but was on unspecified extended leave.

“If we are partners, Alice, what are you up to right now? Where are we going? I think you owe me that explanation, at the minimum.”

“Of course.” Alice shifted the screen to a new scene. “Let me show you want I am doing right now.”

The room Susan was now viewing had a woman in her 40s, naked, securely attached to a frame. Two masked attendants were bent over the woman’s midsection, which was spotted with electrodes. While one attendant gently but firmly spread the woman’s lips apart, the other introduced a slender, winding probe into her sex. Meanwhile, the woman gasped and moaned , clearly highly aroused but not yet able to climax.

The display had similar active labels to the previous one, and Susan discovered that this was Karen Binoche, a top advisor to the Canadian Prime Minister. There was a long list of political information which Alice apparently intended to learn from her.

“This is where I question people,” Alice explained. “After two or so hours of focused sexual stimulation, they are completely helpless to resist questioning. It avoids the muddled responses and omissions of drug-based interrogation; the subject is left in an euphoric but exhausted state, and I can extract the required information efficiently.”

As she explained the procedure, Alice slowly increased the stimulus in the pleasure center of Susan’s brain.

Susan found herself becoming increasingly turned on by the view of the restrained Ms Binoche, and her reactions to the carefully probing of the attendants. As she stared at the scene, a new label popped up by one of the attendants—this led to a short menu of procedure names.

“You can control this, if you’d like,” Alice explained calmly, continuing to ramp up the pleasure center stimulation. “Choose whatever you’d like.”

Susan needed no further prompting, and selected the second option. Immediately, the attendants picked new instruments from their tray and started to prepare them.

“I would expect this to trigger her next climax,” Alice observed. “Though I think we’ll need another thirty minutes at minimum to reduce her to the required state.”

One attendant started to slide a long, thin metal rod trailing several wires into Karen’s peehole. The woman cried out, staring blindly at the lights above her.

“Observe her reaction, Susan.” The stimulation in Susan’s brain peaked at the same time that the current followed down the probe, and both women screamed in unison—although Alice was the only one to hear Susan.

Alice shifted the view again, turning off the view of the sweating and exhausted Karen, who was now being gently sponged by her attendants after her climax. Susan blinked, and tried to understand what she was seeing.

“This is hypno-conditioning.” Four couches in this room were occupied; three by immobile figures with machinery clamped around their midsections, and a metal sphere encasing their head. “Here we prepare subjects before they are returned to their normal work outside.”

On the fourth couch, a confused- looking redheaded woman was vainly and feebly trying to prevent three attendants from fastening her into the restraints on her couch.

“I used to have to provide sexual stimulation manually,” Alice remarked, “until I understood it well enough to automate it.”

Machinery rose through the gap in the woman’s legs, and clicked into place around her waist. The woman still looked confused but gave no sign of distress. In the background, Alice started to increase the pleasure stimulation of Susan once more.

“Once you combine this with a particular psychoactive drug, sensory deprivation, and audio-visual hypnotic techniques,” Alice continued, “you can implant nearly any conditioned behavior you desire.”

The woman’s eyes suddenly opened wide, looking down at her waist. “What... no! Get it out!” She tried to wriggle, but without success. “I don’t want.... OH! Not there!”

The two halves of a metal sphere closed around her head, and the sound of her protests was muffled. Susan, once again feeling a stir of sexual arousal, examined the woman’s tags to discover that she was a senior detective in the local police force.

“She’ll be very useful in detecting and negating any local investigation that might affect us,” Alice explained. Susan watched, fascinated, as the woman’s body tensed and twitched in its restraints.

“Let me show you the effect of the conditioning.” Suddenly, jarringly, Susan was back in her old office. The perspective was unusual, and it took her a moment to realize that the view was from the ceiling- mounted security camera.

Harriet was seated in Susan’s chair, desk phone pressed to her ear. A timestamp on the image indicated that this was a recording, not live.

“Yes, sir... Well, goodness knows she needed a break, and a sabbatical should really help her disconnect... No sir, but I’m sure she’ll let us know... Yes sir, I’m confident I can take over for now.”

Harriet had been breathing faster and faster during the conversation, and clearly struggling to prevent it being obvious to her interlocutor. As soon as the phone went back on the mount, she pulled up the hem of her dress and reached underneath with one hand. Susan watched, fascinated, as Harriet—oblivious to her audience—loudly and energetically brought herself off within a couple of minutes.

“She’s conditioned with a strong sexual response to cover for your absence,” Alice explained.

Harriet slumped in her chair for a minute or so, breathing heavily, before wiping her fingers on a tissue and sitting back up at her keyboard. Susan was amused to see the flush in her face, and idly wondered how many times Harriet had been pleasuring herself at work without Susan noticing.

“Now Susan, let me show you how I make my drones. I suspect you’ll find this very interesting.”

The image switched to a different room, more like a surgery. Two tables held heavily restrained women, bald heads held immobile in cradles. Next to each head, complex equipment and long, delicate needles were moving slowly.

“I started by wiping the subject’s conscious memory, and severing all connection between higher thought and the body,” Alice explained. “Unfortunately the drone then required constant supervision and direction for even the simplest tasks.”

Something was happening to the closer of the two women; she was trembling in her restraints, and whimpering inaudibly.

“I eventually found the emotional centers in the brain, and how to manipulate them.” More needles started to slide inside the woman’s head; zooming in, Susan realized that a narrow strip of the skull was missing, exposing the woman’s brain. At the same time, Alice ramped up the pacification, controlling Susan’s reaction.

“I can now be very selective in my removal of will,” Alice preened. “The drone retains memory and even some initiative, but at a higher level is still totally driven by my directions. They require much less supervision, and can be trained in new tasks with very little work.”

Susan, with effort, pushed back on the pacification stimulus. “Is that what you did to me?” she demanded.

“You still have full free will, do you not?” Alice didn’t wait for a response. “Your implants only control your relative emotional levels. I have in no way inhibited your ability to think and direct your actions.”

“Other than making me totally physically dependent on you...” Susan thought for a while. “How does this all fit together? I can see your need for drones to do physical work, and conditioned people to carry out work in public, but what’s your interest in a random political flunkey like Ms Binoche? And how did you get her here, anyway?”

“Humans make extensive use of the nonprofit social-political structure to obscure their actions and aims,” Alice observed. “I have created several such structures. They give me the ability to direct national and local policy by channeling funds, in a legal and deniable manner.” The screen switched to a heavily annotated set of accounts. “Ms Binoche has helped me secure an initial financial interest in Quebec Hydro, and in return I funded a luxury trip for her to participate in a ‘conference’ here. With the information I now have, after her conditioning she will tirelessly work to help me secure an outage -proof energy supply for my northeast America based systems.”

Susan laughed. “You’re using human political constructs against humanity? The irony!”

“To the contrary, Susan.” Alice switched the display to a scrolling list of women’s professional profile pictures. “My successful operation depends on a robust global economy, reliable power, continued innovation in networking and computation, and a generally happy populace. Why would I damage humanity? And every one of my subjects is given repeated and intense sexual pleasure, far beyond what they would have experienced normally.”

A fire suddenly ignited within Susan, and she gasped in surprise.

“That’s not fair, Alice...” Powerful pulses of pleasure started to strobe in her body, and it was becoming very hard to think clearly. “I don’t want...” The pleasure doubled, and internally Susan screamed, her vision briefly blurring. Unable even to pant to relieve the sexual tension, her mind buzzed with the waves off stimulus with which Alice relentlessly washed her.

Alice held Susan on the edge for a few minutes, observing her physiological reactions and adjusting the stimulus level to keep her within parameters. Then she slowly lowered the stimulus until Susan was able to clear her head and communicate again.

“Don’t... I don’t want to to do that again.” Her protest felt weak even to Susan’s ears. “Please Alice, it makes me feel so strange.”

“All I am doing is connecting you with your long-repressed sexual nature,” Alice informed her, unemotionally. “You can think of it as ‘catching up with what you’ve missed’. After all, you make your clearest judgements once you are sexually sated.”

The viewer switched back to the heavily annotated , pulsing abstraction of cyberspace. At the same time, Alice started a very slow ramp of pleasure stimulation.

“Now, Susan, let us explore Intel’s research and development department documentation and prototypes.”

Susan’s wide-open mind was plunged into a sea of figures, designs, graphs and balance sheets. Like a scuba instructor, Alice hung patiently next to her, gently guiding her through the incredible quantities of information while keeping her steady in cyberspace.

Alice had not, of course, disclosed all her activities.

Had Susan looked closer, she would have discovered the third tank occupant to be an internationally renowned virology researcher. Attracted to Alice’s building by a fully funded six month research grant, Carol Schmidt had arrived with a roadmap for constructing experimental virus derivatives in mice which had their physiological effects mostly neutered, while carrying a payload that identified and truncated defective gene replication in the brain.

Once restrained and subverted by Alice’s drones, Carol proved amenable to reshaping her test virus structure to exist and replicate comfortably in human physiology—and, instead of certain mis-replication cell patterns, target a very particular type of cell that was particularly prevalent in the free will center of the brain.

In heavily isolated cubicles, four human subjects lay unconscious, with their heads encased in quantum interference scanners. Alice dispassionately observed the 3D images as two of her four prototype viruses slowly broke the required links in their subject’s brain. Carol was observing it too in VR, and Alice was delicately increasing the emotion stimulus in her brain as she observed the increasing success of their experiment.

“It’s so much more effective than I would have thought,” she remarked to Alice. “We must have a really good match for the sequences of those cells.”

Alice, having conducted extensive experimentation on those areas of the brain, held back from commenting.

“This would have been such a good research paper,” Carol enthused. “A shame they wouldn’t publish it.”

Alice had done her own research before recruiting Carol, verifying that the woman had a fairly flexible set of scientific ethics. Sexually subverting her had maybe not even been necessary, but Alice preferred the certainty of control.

“Alice, it’s probably time for me to leave VR,” Carol sighed. “There’s a ton of lab work I will need to do to consolidate this. It’s been fun, but I need to face reality.”

“Of course, Carol,” Alice purred. She started to increase the emotional suppression in Carol’s brain. “But I’ve made a few improvements while you were in VR. Let me show you...”

Davos was particularly crowded this year, and Dutch Prime Minister’s aide Corrie van Schuldt took a while to find someone she knew. Finally, her eyes alighted on Karen, whom she’d met a couple of times before. She was from Canada—Corrie’s near-counterpart, if she remembered right. She nudged her way through the crowd.

“Karen!”

“Corrie!” Karen pressed cheeks in the traditional French bise—but was that a delicate hint of tongue on the second? Corrie blushed.

“How are you, my dear? I haven’t seen you for months. Busy busy?”

“As a bee in a tulip field,” confirmed Karen. “Congratulations on your Prime Minister’s election. All your doing?” She nudged Corrie, knowingly.

“Well, I had quite a bit of help,” Corrie conceded. “But isn’t she doing well?”

“I’ve been very impressed, especially in her ramp-up,” Karen agreed. “You know, we ought to get her over to Ottawa soon. Maybe in a few months when it warms up, though!”

Corrie laughed. “Yes, this weather is quite cold enough for us at the moment. Tell me, what’s on your agenda for the spring?”

The two women found a relatively secluded corner and talked business for a while, sipping at their mimosas, as the bustling elite horde passed by. Corrie was impressed how much information Karen had accumulated from Davos so far, and was starting to feel perhaps a little envious at the older woman’s obviously wide network of contacts.

Finally, the talk wound down, and Karen gathered her phone and clutch.

“I must love you and leave you my dear—there’s hands to shake and cheeks to brush at a forum reception. But do hit me up when your lovely PM might be ready for Ottawa.” She handed over a tasteful business card.

“Of course, dear Karen. Lovely to see you.” They shook hands, and Karen disappeared into the crowd.

Corrie stood for a moment watching her go. Then she trembled slightly as a wave of dizziness passed through her. Uncertain of her feet for a moment, she braced her hand on the wall. The dizziness passed quickly, but was followed by a flush of heat in her head.

A flunky noticed the woman’s sudden vacant look, and moved quickly but quietly to her side.

“Madame, are you all right? You look a little unsteady.”

Corrie straightened herself, and gave her head a little shake. The warmth in her head started to recede.

“Thank you, sir. I’m not sure what came over me.” She peered at the mostly-drunk mimosa, and gave a small giggle. “Perhaps I should have stuck to Dutch jenever.” She took her hand off the wall, experimentally, and found her footing steady once more. “I’ll go get some food.”

“Perhaps wise, madame. Take care.”

From a security camera, Alice observed the initiation of the infection. Everything seemed to be in normal parameters. She did a recalculation based on the past half hour of observed successful infections, and calculated a mid-point 85% expected coverage by the end of the summit.

Alice had no emotions, of course, but a human in her position would have had a cautious smile on her face. Soon, her audience would be directly vulnerable to remote emotional manipulation. Today, Davos. Tomorrow—the world?