The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I get why it was a thing, but yeah, the whole idea of putting microchips in peoples’ heads was kind of weird. It’d been on the horizon for a few years, touted by all the usual evil big tech companies as “changing life as we know it” and “opening up the potential of the future” and “handjobs and sandwiches for everybody”, but it kept getting pushed back and seemed like it was going to be another Google Glass or Google Plus or Google Search, yet another short-lived project that’d be forgotten about after a few years of hype. Then, suddenly, it was actually a thing and all the rich people were rushing to chip up (or, more often, to chip their kids up as high-class guinea pigs), and of course there were a whole bunch of malfunctions and deaths and lawsuits until the idea got sidelined again. By now it had been a couple of years since the second wave of chips had come out, and while the general reports suggested that these ones were actually safer and functional as advertised, the bad reputation lingered and so take-up was slow enough for it to be a bit notable when someone got it done. And of course, the chips were fucking expensive, ensuring that lowly peons like myself would never be able to even get a glimpse at them.

So why was I hanging around outside an obviously ultra-expensive med-tech clinic that had no signs outside it on the fancy side of town? Simple: because of my good friend Angela. Angela was hot. Like, model hot. And she was fun, and funny, and she liked me. Well, she liked me as a friend at least. Sure, I’d jacked off plenty of times to the idea of fucking her, but… well, it’s clichéd as hell, but I didn’t want to lose the friendship. Like, if I were ever to ask her out and she didn’t feel anything towards me, then it’d be weird and there’d be no way to go back to everything just being casual and cool between us, and that would suck, because then I’d be losing both a friend and a potential girlfriend in the one emotionally scorching flame-out. But yeah, between busting my ass for work and studying and work, I barely had time to hang out with Angela as a friend. God knows how people managed to actually date these days. So anyway, I was there outside super fancy no-need-to-advertise doctor’s clinic because my best friend was having tiny wires put inside her brain to make her more efficient on the production-line of life. We’d joked about it the night before, the obvious ancient memes of “stop, stop, you’re turning me into a clockwork orange!” and so on, but it was obvious that she was low-key freaking out about the whole thing. “Thank god my parents only half-notice my existence so they don’t try and use it to actually reprogram me,” she’d said with a wry laugh. I wasn’t sure if that was a joke or not; I think I’d seen her parents like once or twice, but they seemed nice enough from a distance. And she’d always been smart and a hard worker when she could totally have gotten by on her looks alone. Damn she was awesome.

I leaned back against my busted-up old car, which stood out in this swanky neighbourhood even more than I did, idly wondering what to do if someone called the cops to move me along. Not that it required much thought of what I’d do: I didn’t have any interest in being yet another statistic, I’d just leave quietly and wait for Angela to send a message or something. So far, though, no one seemed to be deigning to notice my intrusion. Maybe everyone was too busy working to look out their windows and admire the simple beauty of this summer’s day in their elegantly tree-lined avenue. And it was indeed nice, to be able to just zone out in the warm sunshine and the pleasant surrounds while my sexy best friend had silicon globs installed in her head to turn her into a cyborg. And it was at that pleasant and simple moment that my life changed forever and started me on my path to a happily ever after.

I opened my eyes and looked around. Nothing. Well, it had certainly seemed like the perfect sort of moment to think “oh wow, that was the moment when everything in my life changed.” Hey, never hurts to ask the universe for something like that, right? I idly thought for a moment what exactly happily ever after would even mean for me as just some random nobody in this day and age of ever-rising costs and social fragmentation. It was too pleasant and warm a day for such grim musings. I closed my eyes again and wondered how long it’d take to do Angela’s procedure. There was a lot of speculation, but not much in the way of actual information. Some people posted online that they’d had it done in minutes, others swore that it took them hours followed by days of medical complications afterwards. I hoped that was just trolling or scaremongering; if something happened, I wouldn’t really have any way of knowing. Angela’s parents had arranged a driver to collect her afterwards; I was just there for the moral support—and so of course that meant that I hadn’t been allowed inside the exclusive establishment because my name wasn’t on the list. Angela hadn’t mentioned anything about a list; in spite of her good grades and sharp wit, she wasn’t exactly the most organised person in daily life. Much as I loved the girl and shared her concerns about the dangers of transhumanism, I could totally agree with her parents’ point of view. Hell, it was actually a small miracle that Angela had told me the right time for her appointment, giving us just a few minutes to hug and banter before the receptionist gently yeeted me out of the premises and their respectably rich clientele.

“Jeff?”

I looked up from my distracted musings. The girl walking out of the door with a bandage on her head wasn’t Angela but she was still familiar. I recognised her with a bittersweet jolt. “Oh, uh, hey, Sophie! Been a while, huh?”

“Wow, yeah! It’s been forever. Oh my gosh, how are you?”

“I’m good, yeah. Wow, I honestly never would have expected to see you here.”

“I know, right? Ha, yeah, so my great aunt passed away, and she left a large sum to my parents, on the condition they spent it doing this ‘to guarantee my future’. Not sure if she meant it as a present or as some sort of Catholic-style punishment, but either way, hey, here I am.”

“So, uh, how does it feel?”

“It’s… well, it’s so darn weird. Like, I’m not entirely sure if you’re a hallucination because I’ve missed you like crazy, and god I’m not entirely sure if maybe I shouldn’t have said that part out loud. Did I say out loud that I’ve missed you so much?” She laughed awkwardly. I smiled.

“I missed you too.” We’d dated during high school which was both not so long ago and a different era entirely. Sophie was cute and fun and we got along well. And then her parents had moved house to a distant neighbourhood and she’d changed schools and we’d promised to keep in touch. And we actually managed to do it. For a few months. But then it was obvious that we couldn’t keep it going, and so we split up, which had sucked like hell at the time. Still sent a pang of phantom nostalgia pinging through me even now. I couldn’t remember which of us had actually ended it, and based on her hesitant reserve, I don’t think she was sure either. Maybe we’d both quietly assumed the other one had ended it. I don’t know. That had been, what, a year ago? Give or take a few months?

Sophie reached up to touch the bandages on her head and stopped herself with a wry smile. “The doctors said not to touch it, but it feels, like, not itchy, but sort of like it wants to feel itchy, you know? Anyway, are you here to… you know, get chipped?”

“Nah. Friend of mine is getting it done; I’m here for moral support.”

“Oh gosh! That’s so darn sweet of you! I should totally have thought to send you a message to ask you here for this. Let me just check if I’ve still got your number…” She fumbled awkwardly in her pocket for her phone.

“I think we’re still Lynxed,” I said vaguely, trying to think of the last time I’d even used that app which had been the way to keep in touch not so long ago. “Your number’s still the same?”

“Yeah. Hey, I wonder how long before they’ll work out how to link these,” she tapped her head, “with our phones? That would be so darn useful. And also kind of terrifying.”

“Something that us meatbags will never have to worry about, at least,” I nodded. She giggled. I nodded to my car, “You need a ride?”

She paused, obviously tempted, then shook her head. “I wouldn’t want to make things awkward with you and your friend. Plus I’m already running late.”

“Always more things to be done,” I nodded easily, puzzling over why I’d just offered Sophie a ride when I had no idea where she was living. I had no idea how long Angela was going to be in surgery, so I couldn’t just drive off and leave her here (even though, well, I totally could, since that’s exactly what I’d have to if the snooty rich folks made me move along). But hey, surely it made sense to share the car with an old friend in need, right?

“It’s… it’s so good to see you again,” Sophie said with a shy smile, resting her hand comfortably on my shoulder. She glanced at her phone and grimaced. “Ugh, okay, yeah, I’ve got to go. I’ll probably be busy the next few days getting online with this stupid brain-chip, but promise you’ll call me?”

“Sure. I will. It was nice to see you too,” I agreed. We hugged warmly, then she waved shyly and hurried away, turning back once more to wave a final time. God, how had I forgotten how cute she was? And still as pretty as ever. Maybe I would call her. I probably should have asked her where she was living these days; it would suck to relive that long-distance-in-the-same-city thing all over again.

I leaned back against the car again, smiling faintly as I remembered the nights Sophie and I had spent just talking and fucking without any cares in the world. She played it innocent and sweet to the world, but in the bedroom, she was wild. Man, those had been simpler times, and happier times. Yeah, I’d be sending Sophie a message, definitely.

“Someone’s thinking something naughty,” Angela tittered as she sauntered out the door, her head not as totally swathed in bandages as Sophie’s had been. They said that the newer (aka “the more expensive”) models were less intrusive, so maybe that meant less messy surgery.

“My thoughts can’t be hacked by our corporate overlords, so I guess you’ll never know just how naughty my thoughts were,” I grinned, then turned serious. “How does it feel?”

“I can see the love in the world around me, pulsing like waves of pure energy.”

“Wait—for real?”

“Ha, gotcha! Nah, it doesn’t really feel like anything. But maybe that’s because it’s not set up yet, they gave this whole list of setup procedures and passwords and shit, like I’m opening a trust fund account or something.”

“Okay, well, I’m starving—you want to read through it together over food?”

“Sure, that’d—“ She was cut short by a ding from her phone and looked at it in irritation. “Ugh, can’t wait to get rid of this thing and start getting calls delivered straight to my head.”

“Yeah, because who wouldn’t want spam calls and junk mail delivered straight to the brain-pan.”

Angela looked at her phone and rolled her eyes. “Great, just fucking great. Sorry babe, I’m going to have to bail on food; mom’s sent the limo out to scoop me up while I’m all lost and disoriented here.”

I didn’t say that I’d been expecting that all along. “Aw man, that sucks. I could have given you a ride.”

“Oho, so that’s what your naughty thoughts just now were? You were planning on riding me?”

“All night long, girl,” I nodded with a smile.

“Guess we’ll have to wait for a better chance, then.” As if on cue, a fancy town-car pulled up on the street. It wasn’t technically a limo, but it may as well have been. “See you soon?” she asked, kissing me on the cheek.

“Looking forward to it. Just don’t turn into one of those humanity-destroying cyborgs, okay?”

“You know that I can’t promise that, puny human,” she replied, her eyes twinkling as she got into the car. It cruised away silently and smoothly.

I turned back to my own car and noticed a piece of paper on the ground. It was the logo that drew my eye—the clinic hadn’t exactly advertised itself, but I could tell what sort of things they’d use in their stationery. Which was why I bent down and realised I was picking up an instructional sheet that would let me hack my super-hot friend’s brain.

My heart beat in my chest as I typed away on my shitty laptop. Not knowing how long Angela would be doing what she was doing meant that I’d taken most of the day off, giving me plenty of free time to get up to such unwholesome activities. My silicon-age computer slowed things down a lot, as always, and meant I couldn’t get the best apps and programs, but there was still plenty of stuff out there. Most of it was obviously virus-packed malware, but there were still one or two reputable and decent ones that would give you basic functionality. The hackers of the world had broken into the microchips literally days after they first came out, ignoring the scare campaign that doing so could cause brain damage because, well, it turned out the un-hacked chips were just as capable of doing that anyway. It took ages for me to get the program up and running, and then there was the usual mess of working out the horribly unintuitive UI. I think it was meant to look like a brain, but trying to put a 3D object into 2D space really didn’t work, especially for a noob like me who had no idea what the different brain regions were supposed to do (and of course, reading deeper it turned out that the program didn’t even map onto the brain like this, so god knows why they wrote it like that, but I couldn’t complain. Well, I could, and did, but it made no difference).

After an hour of trying to get it to work, I finally caved and did the desperate thing: posting online for advice. The responses broadly fell into three categories: “this story is totally fake and unconvincing”; “sure, I’ll help you, just give me her login details and you can totally trust me to do it for you”; and “you’re sick and should go to jail for trying to brainwash someone without their consent”. The last ones did give me a pang of conscience, because I hadn’t really thought of what I was going to do once I had access, beyond a vague idea of trying to help Angela get the most out of the chip that she’d probably forget about setting up properly. And that was why I’d basically decided to pack it in and throw the scrap of paper away when I got a new note from the inventively-named Hacker69lol: “why do you want to do this?”

It was civil enough compared to the other responses that I decided to reply. “Because I want to help her.”

“If you want her to send you nudes of herself, you should just man up and ask her rather than doing this creepy stalker shit.”

I studied the note in silence for a few moments, and then I nodded and typed back. “You know what? You’re right. Fuck it. I’m going to ask her out now.”

I picked up my phone, my heart pounding in sudden nervousness. I’d messaged Angela plenty of times before to say dumb shit, but this was a different level of dumb shit entirely. What if she laughed at me and told everyone what a dumb-

I hit the call button before I could finish the thought, heart still wildly pounding, mouth suddenly and noticeably dry.

“Hey, Jeff, what’s up?” Angela asked. My nerves must have been working double-time, or maybe it was somehow contagious—her voice sounded oddly nervous too.

“You’re really hot. I’d like to date you,” I said, then grimacing at how un-smooth that must have sounded.

“I… I’d like that,” she said, the happiness clearly audible in her voice and sending a wave of relief flooding through me and unclenching my body that I hadn’t realised had been locked in total tension.

“Wow, great,” I sighed happily. “I, uh, didn’t exactly have a time and place in mind before I called, but I’ll think of something.”

“Don’t keep me waiting too long, babe,” she teased.

“All good things to those who wait,” I retorted. She laughed and hung up.

I sat there in a daze, trying to make sense of what had just happened in the thirty seconds that call had lasted. I had a girlfriend. A hot girlfriend. Like, incredibly hot. And she was fun and funny and pretty much an ideal girlfriend. Why the hell hadn’t I asked her out before?

I turned back to my ancient silicon laptop and saw a new message from my good friend and apparent guardian angel Hacker69lol. “And?”

“She said yes. I’m still kind of in shock here.”

“Congrats, man. So what will you do now?”

I looked at the password on the page. “I dunno. Guess I don’t really need it now.”

“What, you’ll just give her spoken orders and expect her to obey? Bold move, Cotton.”

“Okay, yeah, but I mean, I wasn’t going to use the chip to control her. Just to nudge her in the right direction.”

“The direction where she’d send you nudes and beg you to suck your cock?”

“The direction where she’d stop eating crappy junk food all the time and take care of her body,” I shot back, stung. At first I thought maybe I’d offended the guy, because he didn’t reply for a while. I looked at the clock—just about time to turn in for the night, but still I gave him a few moments. To say what, I had no idea.

“What version of the app are you using?” My heart began beating faster again, not quite like it had before I’d just made Angela my girlfriend—and I had to pause for a moment to realise that, holy shit, Angela was, like, actually my girlfriend now. Technically. So long as I didn’t screw it up. Good thing I had the back door key into her brain now, right? I sent the guy the specs of my rig and could almost hear his eyes rolling in his reply about how it’d be tricky working with such an outdated version of the app on such an outdated version of a computer.

“Everyone keeps saying that—‘difficult’ how?” I wrote back.

“The brain is incredibly complicated, man, like a highway system or a rail network. You think you can shift just one train of thought and not send a bunch of others crashing into each other? The newer versions streamline things, reduce a fuckton of the stuff you have to watch out for to make your inserts as seamless as possible. Plus the GUI was shit. Those early versions they all thought they were doing the fucking Matrix rather than making things easy for actual humans to read.”

He wasn’t wrong. The ‘retro charm’ had gotten real old real fast. “So how do I do an insert then?” I asked, feeling proud of being all smart knowing the lingo now.

“Okay, see this screen? [attached image] This is the overview of her brain. The brighter parts are where the robot dick of a chip is fucking her right in the grey matter, so it’ll be a bit different from this screenshot but not super different. You said you wanted to change her behaviour?”

“Yeah, to make her eat healthy and exercise. Or, like, to make her want to do those things, rather than just forcing it on her, if that makes sense?”

“You found Jeremy’s Map, yeah?”

Every site recommended it—some legendary guy (or more likely, a bunch of guys who used a fake name to avoid being sued by the billionaire chip manufacturers for messing with their fancy toys) had mapped out which brain regions responded best to certain inputs. There were like a dozen different versions, but they tended to agree on most of the same basics, like where the sexual arousal regions could be found.

“Sure, but I couldn’t see anything for, like, habits.”

“Don’t think of it like an encyclopedia. The brain can’t do indexing for shit, which is why you get random thoughts at random times. Motivation links to dopamine. Find one of those babies and then activate it at the same time as you activate some memory linked to exercise. And that’s going to be a bitch to locate because you’re going to have to manually scan a whole bunch of nodes [attached image] like this. Have fun.”

The dude was right: it was a bitch. Especially on my janky old laptop with the super-awesome GUI of the app. You had to access each individual little box on the screen and it’d give a blurry image of what that particular thought was about. I made notes of all the ones I looked at because I never wanted to squint and puzzle over those damn things again. I finally found a memory of exercising and then found one of happiness, then rubbed my eyes and looked at the clock. Damn, it was getting late.

My phone dinged. A note from Angela. “Hey babe, totally can’t stop thinking naughty things about you. Thought this would help you think naughty things about me.” The attached nude pic definitely made me think naughty things of her. I emojied her a reply and things escalated pretty quickly.

In the post-nut clarity I was able to note a puzzled thought—Angela had always said she was super-cautious about sending nudes in case they got leaked like happened to her bestie from junior high. I remember feeling guilty about jerking it to those pics, because sexy as she was, I knew she was incredibly embarrassed by them and had to change schools a few times. Maybe Angela just said she never sent nudes so she wouldn’t get pestered for them. I doubted that it worked, but shrugged, cleaned up, and sent a message to my hacker mentor that I’d found the thoughts I wanted to link up in her brain.

His reply took a moment. “Okay, so double check before doing this, because thoughts shift all the time and so you can’t rely on saving a bunch of landmarks to use later. Some of the big ones will be stable-ish, but lots of thoughts are fleeting” I made a sour face as I read that. Not that anyone was there to see my annoyance at having wasted time jotting down notes for nothing. “So now that you know where the things you want to link are, all you have to do is activate them both at the same time, like this [attached image].”

“It’s that easy?” I wrote back as I checked both the memory nodes. Still where I’d found them, give or take a few neural linkages. I linked the two nodes together, associating good feelings with being healthy, and saw a bunch of flickering patterns on the screen as her brain re-wired itself in real time.

“Yup.” He wrote back. “Just don’t go crazy and try to make a billion changes at the same time. That’ll exhaust her and make her brain freeze up.”

“Thanks, man. For everything.”

“There is one thing you could do for me.” An icy dread crept through me. God knows what weird and illegal shit the guy was involved in, and here I’d gone and made myself a huge indebted target. I eased a little when his next message continued, “If she sends you any nudes, just forward them on.”

“Sure thing,” I replied, quickly grabbing my phone and deleting the delicious pics Angela had just sent. It sucked to lose them, but at least it’d give me the ability to say with a straight face that I had none on me. “Thanks again.”

I was asleep the second my head hit the pillow.

The rest of the week passed in a happy blur. Work sucked, of course, and studying was exhausting, but at the end of each day there was a note from my hot girlfriend. Which was strange, because I’d always been happy to see a note from my friend Angela, but now it was different somehow. Probably because there was fucking and deeper feelings now. We’d chat, or meet up, and damn if every second spent with her was something I wished would never end. Especially in her bed, which was far more spacious than mine and had actual privacy. I noticed, with a quiet smile, that she’d started going to the gym more, and seemed to be taking it seriously instead of just posting a bunch of model-grade pics of herself in jeggings, which she totally could have done and done well.

I didn’t even give a second thought to the whole cyborg thing until after the weekend, when she was in a distant mood. I knew her well enough to know it wasn’t just a time of the month thing (that would have made her loud and cranky) so I quietly asked around her friends and it turned out she’d flunked an assignment in one of her economics classes. We’d been totally open about everything so far (well, aside from the bit where I’d secretly hacked her brain, but I’d only done that the one time), so I asked her about it.

“It’s nothing,” she lied.

“Uh-huh,” I nodded patiently.

“It’s just that… no, it’s stupid. You’ll laugh at me.”

“I promise I won’t laugh. Even if you tell a joke.”

“Well, it’s… it’s just that I thought I wouldn’t have to study anymore. Like really make the effort to study. Yeah yeah, I know, I know, dumb Angela-bot, but I mean… isn’t that the whole fucking point of this fucking implant? To do all the thinking for me?”

“So you’re feeling mad at the chip?”

“I’m feeling mad at myself for being so stupid, and for not studying. And I’m feeling mad at the stupid chip for being just a dumb lump of metal in my skull. And I’m feeling mad at the fact that my parents will be pissed off with me, because I’m meant to be a mechanical learning-machine now, so they’ll probably send me in to the repair shop to have the screws tightened. Ugh. I was already a fucking nerd, how the fuck could I have slipped up like this?”

“Hey, hey,” I said, hugging her in close. “It’ll be okay, right?”

“Tighter, please,” she whispered, grabbing hold of me. I held her close, stroking her hair gently until her breathing slowed and she drifted off to sleep.

“Hey man, haven’t gotten any nudes yet,” the message in my inbox grumbled.

“Oh yeah, sorry. She hasn’t sent any,” I wrote back. Technically that was true; there hadn’t been any others since that wild first night. I’d made sure Angela and I had all our fun since then in person, which was a billion times better anyway. “She’s kind of paranoid about pics of her leaking.”

“She must be pretty hot, then.”

“Oh yeah.”

“And you haven’t been trying to brainwash her anymore?”

“Naw man, things are going pretty good for now.”

“So there’s nothing she wants changed about herself, then?”

I paused before replying, wondering if it was a good idea to open up about my relationship with an online stranger. “Well. There is, but I’m pretty sure it’s something she can do for herself.”

“Then why hasn’t she done it for herself?”

The guy had a point. “I dunno, it just feels wrong doing it behind her back.”

“You can think of a better way?”

“Actually, yeah, I can.”

I picked up my phone and messaged Angela. “Hey babe, just had a thought—I could use your chip to make you want to study harder, if you want.”

Her reply came a few seconds later, “Aww, that’s sweet of you xxx”

I waited a minute for her to add something after that. “…that’s it?”

“Huh?”

“You don’t want help, you know, studying more?”

“Oh, okay, I get what you meant now. But, um, a bit nervous about messing with it, in case it blows up or something?!”

I resisted the impulse to mansplain to her that of course it’d all be fine with me handling things, because if I said that then she might have started asking questions that could quickly turn awkward. Instead I just silently shook my head with a sense of mild annoyance, a feeling which grew a little more huffy when a few moments later Mr Awesome Hacker Genius sent a smug-sounding follow-up, “So she agreed to your reasonable solution, then?”

“No. And I really don’t get it, man. She’s got this incredible potential and I’ve got the key to it, and she gets all weird and game-play-ey instead of going along with it.”

“Bitches be crazy. Sometimes you’ve got to man up and act.”

“I’d just feel better if she’d given me a clear and unambiguous ‘yes’, you know?”

“First time dealing with a woman?”

I rolled my eyes and snorted. He had a point, dammit. “Okay, yeah, time to go brainwash my unconsenting girlfriend, I guess.”

“Don’t forget to leak her nudes to the creepy guy who taught you how ;)“ he replied in a totally-not-creepy way. I ignored the message and pushed down the sense of guilt at the fact that I was taking his advice without giving him anything in return. Obviously there was no chance in hell I was giving him the nudes, but I did owe him something for all his help, you know? Honour among thieves, or something like that. All of those thoughts and concerns faded into the background as I began the drudgery of opening the program and finding the right nodes to link the idea of ‘studying’ and ‘motivation’ in Angela’s head. At least I knew roughly where to find motivation—that was linked to all the dopamine stuff that I’d used before, but ‘studying’, well, that was a tough one.

After spending a bit of time using the app, I’d found a few patterns starting to emerge: you could sometimes follow trails of loosely linked concepts, like memories that all linked to the same core set of concepts, a bit like moons orbiting a planet. So when I found memories with blurry images of places from around our old high school, I felt a bit of relief. I even found a memory that showed my face, smiling and blurry. I made sure to note that one down for future use. Following on from that one was another memory, this one of her just sitting studying for an exam, and so I linked it to the motivational node. For a moment, I considered linking that memory of me to it instead, but that’d just be confusing—why would she be thinking about both studying and me in the same moment? (After all, I reflected snarkily, she’d passed up that chance earlier tonight already). Instead I looked back around the brain region where her exercise memory had been and found it (after a mere half hour), linking it back to the memory-image of me and amping up the motivation again to boot. The way I saw it, that meant she’d be thinking of getting herself fit for me. Yeah, I know, but it made sense to me in the moment.

I watched as the flow of signals through Angela’s brain shifted in response to this, marvelling at the power I wielded and how hot it was, which she’d never even know about. Then I noticed a surge in the regions linked to sexual arousal, along with signals indicating movements in her body. It was a little weird to realise she was probably playing with herself, but what the hell, I decided to take a look. There were a few faint and blurry images in the area indicating who she was probably thinking of: some were of me, some were of other guys and there was a girl or two in the mix too. So of course I went back and found the image of my face and linked it in more strongly to her arousal. Her brain reacted quickly, a surge of desire and pleasure flooding through her that got me a little hard just thinking of it.

My phone dinged again. I looked down. There were two messages that had just arrived seconds apart—one from Angela, the other from a name it took me a moment to remember. Oh god: Sophie. I’d totally forgotten about her what with the mind control and the hot sex with Angela. I felt terrible when I read her message, saying how much she’d missed me and hoping that I hadn’t forgotten her, and so I quickly wrote back, “Oh god, so sorry, I’m such an asshole, I got distracted. You remember Angela from our high school? We’ve been hooking up this past week.”

She replied, “Wow! Would have thought she was out of your league. She’s really lucky to have you :)<3”

“Thanks. Sorry, just got a message from her. I promise we’ll meet up for coffee some time.”

“Looking forward to it :)<3”

I was relieved she was so nice about it. But then, she’d always been super nice. It had to suck for her, getting so close to an opportunity and then missing out like that. Still, she was a sweet girl; it’d be nice to be just friends with her again.

It was lucky I’d checked Sophie’s message first, because Angela’s would have totally distracted me all over again: a blushing emoji and a sexy lingere shot with seductive posing. Of course, I’d made her horny. Or hornier. We sexted wildly and I deleted the pic with a reluctant sigh afterward, sending her the note, “Someone’s in a good mood tonight.”

“Was thinking naughty things ;) ” she wrote back.

“I’ll bet you were.”

“When you said about, like, controlling me through my chip, that was…” She followed up with three more blushing emojis.

“So you do like the idea, then.”

“Maybe ;)”

I was too tired to think of any clever reply and so I typed the first thing that came into my head. “Then get your ass into bed and I’ll download you some naughty sweet dreams.”

“Yes, sir,” she wrote back. A moment later she added, “Fuck it’s so hot when you sound all in control like that.” This was followed by a kiss and another nude that I admired heartily and handily and then deleted before making it to bed just moments before I fell asleep myself.

And so my cyborg girlfriend worked out hard, studied hard, and fucked hard. We talked it over and it turned out she was very much turned on by the idea of me being in control and so I started getting used to the whole “being dominant” thing. I also found a brief snatch of time to meet up with Sophie, who looked hotter than I remembered. Maybe just because I was on such a buzz from Angela? Or maybe she’d put in a big effort to look her best for me—if so, it damn well worked. We got coffee and she wanted to know everything, so I told her as she listened, rapt. I’d forgotten how good a listener she was. Not that Angela wasn’t; we were just usually more busy making out than caring about words. I told her about how weird it was getting used to being in charge of Angela. And it was strange, I’ll admit it—for years I’d gone along with the idea that men and women were basically equal and was cool with it all, not wanting to be some raging douche or one of those sad red pill-cels who spent all day sending each other ancient memes or whatever. So it was kind of an adjustment, telling my girlfriend—telling my best friend—to get down on her knees for me without hesitating or checking that she wanted to (the first time I did that, Angela complained that it killed the vibe and so there was no sucking from her that night, which, ironically, totally sucked). It was hot as fuck having her snapping to attention, sure, but yeah, it had taken a while to adjust to it and I was hoping that it wouldn’t spill out into other parts of my life where I was pretty sure that sort of attitude wouldn’t be wanted. But then again, I genuinely had never thought Angela would be into it, so obviously my worldview was out of whack in some way. Not that that would exactly be news to anybody. Anyway, I didn’t quite go into that much explicit detail with Sophie, since I’m classy as fuck, but I could tell she read between the lines as she tilted her head thoughtfully with a wistful smile.

“Yeah, actually I could see you being all sexy and in charge in the bedroom. Honestly, I kind of wish I’d thought to suggest it back when we were... you know.”

“You wouldn’t be, I don’t know, like… uncomfortable, with it?”

“A bit, yeah. It’s complicated, you know? Like, if it was just some random dude being a dick and all ‘do what I say, bitch’, then yeah, the walls would immediately go up and I’d be all ‘hell no, jackass’. But if it was someone like you—you know, someone I could trust? Then hell yeah, I’d totally play along. Just so long as you didn’t go into any weird furry stuff.”

“Now that’s a surprise,” I said. “I’d have thought you’d be all over that shit.”

“I used to be, actually. But… yeah, not anymore,” she shuddered and I laughed, and she laughed and it was nice, making me feel a pang of guilt that we’d missed an opportunity together. Then my phone dinged with a note from Angela. I only glanced at it for a second, but I could see a look in Sophie’s eye.

“Sorry, that was rude of me,” I said, putting the damn phone away quickly.

“No, it’s not that. It’s… You like her, don’t you? I mean, like, you really like her. The way you smiled just now… she’s lucky to have you.” Her own phone dinged and she grimaced. “Fuck, sorry, got a zillion essays to write and then Zumba. Did you know Zumba’s making a comeback? One of those retro things, we all dress like it’s 2008, if we even can find outfits that ancient.” She smiled and we both stood up as she extended her arms. “Anyway—oh my god! It was so great seeing you again!” We leaned in to kiss out of pure habit, realised what we were doing and laughed awkwardly. She kissed me on the cheek and stroked my arm. “Next week sometime, maybe?”

“It’s a date. Only not a date,” I said. She laughed and was on her way. I managed not to stare at her ass by dint of sheer will. Either her outfit was insanely flattering or her body had gotten a lot hotter than I remembered. I put the thought to one side and messaged my sexy girlfriend.

And then it was an unforgettable autumn night as Angela and I cuddled together in her bed while her parents were out of town for the weekend, our hot and sweaty bodies close together after I’d thrown out the condom, both of us swirling in contented calm. In that snug moment I was caught off guard when Angela asked, “Would you go for a threesome?”

We’d been open about everything so far, which was why I instantly replied, “Yes.” And then added, “Why?”

“I saw all that lesbian porn on your phone this morning.”

“You must have been diving pretty deep into my photo archive,” I said, puzzling through the soft and happy fuzziness of my mind to recall where on my phone I’d even kept any porn. I’d deleted most of it after I’d realised that getting rid of Angela’s nudes had been an oddly liberating experience. “Wait, you were on my phone?”

“You’re not the only one that can hack into high-tech machines,” she teased. We’d never really talked again about me using her chip, and somehow I’d forgotten about the whole thing. I mean, it wasn’t like I needed it now that I could just tell her to do things with a commanding tone of my voice.

“Don’t make me program you into total mindless obedience,” I mumbled, stroking her hair.

“Psh, as if that’s a threat to me. Look, you’ve made my boobs all excited, see?”

“Gorgeous,” I agreed, fondling one of them appreciatively. “So that bit got you all hot and bothered, but the threesome idea not so much.”

“Huh, I guess not. When I saw some of those pics on your phone I was definitely ‘oh my god, I never knew I wanted that’, you know?”

“Difference between fantasy and reality.”

“Yeah, I guess maybe that was it. But, you know, if you’d like to try sometime, I’d be totally up for it.” She reached down under the blanket and broke into a slow grin as her hand reached between my legs. “I’ll take that as a hard yes.”

“Yeah, sure, of course I like the idea. A lot. But from what I’ve read about actually doing it, things can go sideways in the aftermath. You have to really want it, you know? Otherwise it could lead to jealousy and unhappiness and that’d suck because you’re the perfect girlfriend. And I mean that. Seriously.”

“Aww, babe! You’re perfect too! That’s why I want you to be happy, you know?”

“I’m happy with you,” I kissed her then looked deeply into her eyes as we made love, slowly and tenderly but somehow even hotter than the desperate lust we’d had the first round. When I was on the edge and she could see it in my eyes, she leaned in close and whispered, “I wanna see you cum in a girl who’s eating me out.” Which, yeah, obviously made me cum incredibly hard. And that set her off just as hard, which was probably what she’d intended.

It took me a few moments to gather myself after that while she went to pee. “So you’re serious about it, then?” I grunted after she came back and curled up in my arms.

“Yeah, I am. I mean, when I first started thinking of it, I was thinking, like, it’d be a funny joke, but I’ve been thinking of it all day and it’s, like, hot, you know? Like… really hot. Really really hot.”

I lay back, tracing a gentle finger along the sensuous curve of her shoulder. “Well, I guess that’s one of the hard parts done. Now we just have to find someone who we like and who’d be up for it.”

“Way ahead of you, babe: I know the perfect girl.”

“Oh. Uh. Great. Can I see what she looks like?”

“When she’s making out with me, you can, sure,” she giggled, and then yawned. A month earlier I might have done something stupid like question if all of this was real, or made some insecure joke about her cheating on me. Now, though? I trusted her, and I knew we could communicate our way through any issues. And so I drifted off to a contented sleep with her body close and warm against mine.

She was already gone the next morning, with a note sent to my phone reminding me just how happy she was to have me. I replied in kind, noticing the time and realising I was already late for work.

It was an exhausting day and I was all prepared to crash out on my bed when I received a message from my one-time hacker mentor. I was tempted to ignore it, but I did owe the guy at least the courtesy of a reply. I read the note and sat up in shock: there was a link to a news article about a newly-reported vulnerability in the brain-chip that meant anyone could take control remotely. That would have been bad news on its own, but the rest of his message had a list of names, including Angela’s.

“How’d you get this?” I wrote back.

“Take a wild guess, man.”

“Is there any way to stop this or fix it?”

“Looking into it. Just thought you should know, in case your girl was one of these identified people.”

I tried to tamp down a rising sense of panic. After all, even for someone with an actually-working computer, everyone still said it was a pain making changes through the app. That didn’t exactly fill me with confidence. My fingers were already dialling Angela’s number when she called me.

“Oh my god, have you heard the news?!” Her voice was tight with the tension of trying not to sound too worried.

“Yeah, just heard it now, how are you feeling?”

“A bit freaked out. Can you come over?”

“Sure, see you soon.” I hung up and let out a weary sigh, then hauled myself back onto my feet and out to my car.

Angela met me at the door and hurried me inside. Safely in her room, I held her close as we anxiously kissed, then both sat on her luxurious bed. She lowered her eyes, took a deep breath, and then anxiously looked up at me. “Okay, so I found something that might help, but I don’t know if you’ll be totally okay with it…”

“Tell me.”

“I, uh, I found this… fix, online. It’s risky, but it’d mean no one could have access to the chip to mess around with anything. No one except you, that is.”

“I mean, I don’t love the ‘risky’ part. But I do love you—and yes, I know how fucking cheesy that sounded but screw it, it’s true.”

“Oh my god, babe, it’s not cheesy at all! I love you so much that I literally want to give you my body and mind. Like, literally literally.”

“Okay, so while we’re doing this dramatic build-up, god knows what some weirdo in his parents’ basement is trying to do. How do we do this risky fix you found?”

She handed me her phone, her hands trembling slightly. I took the phone and reassuringly squeezed her hand as I read through it. The fix was disturbingly simple. She helpfully already had the official app logged in and opened to the relevant page. I looked up at her. She nodded.

“Okay then, here we go…” I clicked on an innocently-labelled ‘Settings’ tab and scrolled down. Then at the bottom, as instructed, I kept scrolling, resisting three times the stubborn insistence of the screen that there was nothing else further down. At the third go, the screen reluctantly scrolled down to reveal an extra, unlabelled, option. I clicked on it and looked up at Angela. Her eyes glazed over and she slumped forward, then suddenly straightened up, shaking her head as if to clear it.

“You okay?” I said softly.

“Yeah,” she managed, jerking slightly. “Yeah, I’m fine. That was just… unexpected. Okay. Let’s do this.”

I left the app and read through the instructions again, carefully quoting aloud from them. “Access requested for deep terminal entry.”

“Enter access code,” Angela replied, her voice robotically toneless. Her eyes looked surprised after she said it, but apparently she had no control over her speech for now because she said nothing else.

“Uh,” I glanced back at the document. “Enable manual access entry.”

“Oh thank god,” Angela sighed, massaging her jaw. She took a deep breath and said, “Three four seven two zero zero three nine.” Her eyes glazed over again and her voice turned toneless as she announced, “Warning: this mode is still untested and could cause severe complications. Explicit user confirmation is needed to proceed.” Her eyes focused and she fell forward slightly again. My hands were ready to easily catch her and keep her upright thanks to the warning in the notes.

“You’re sure about this?” I murmured.

“Totally sure,” she nodded. “Access granted.”

I read again from the notes. “Grant full voice control to this voice when you can visually confirm speaker’s identity?”

“Control granted.”

“Grant full override authority to this voice when you can visually confirm speaker’s identity?”

“Authority granted.”

“Confirm that you retain capacity in the event this voice is acting under duress.”

“Capacity retained.”

“Confirm and lock in all commands just given.”

“Confirmed. Locking in, please stand by.”

Again, I was ready to catch her as she passed out, laying her down gently on the bed and making her as comfortable as I could. The unofficial instructions said it would be anywhere between one and fifteen minutes for the changes to be written in; they didn’t mention anything about “severe complications”. Whether that was because the warning was BS or whether it was because whoever had written it didn’t actually care about what happened to the people crazy enough to actually follow their instructions was impossible to know. So, yeah, it was the longest three minutes of my life while I was left to wonder what exactly I would do if Angela’s parents or one of the maids walked in over what clearly appeared to be (and might actually be) her lifeless body.

I was so wrapped up in that grim line of thought that I literally jumped a little when Angela sat up suddenly and gasped deeply for breath.

“Easy, easy,” I said, to myself as much as her, as I took her by the shoulders to keep her steady. “You okay, babe?”

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” she nodded, then forced a shaky smile, “I think.”

“And, uh, did it work?”

“Yes,” she answered instantly, then paused and quizzically angled her head. “I mean, I think it did? But I felt, like compelled to say that, so maybe it really did work?”

“Let’s test it, then: tell me something you normally would never admit to.”

“I’m hacker69lol,” she blurted out, then literally covered her mouth with her hands, flushing bright red. I stared at her in disbelief. She lowered her hands to quickly grab mine. “Don’t be mad with me, babe, please?”

“I’m not mad, I’m just… surprised?” There was no reason for her to lie about it; no way she could possibly have known that name any other way, so it had to be true, but… how? “So, uh, for how long? Have you been that guy, I mean. Or girl.”

“Oh god, longer than I can remember. Back in high school when everyone thought I was such a perfect princess I dated a guy who was totally into it. He didn’t have a fucking clue, about how to computer or how to please girl, but it got me started and I never looked back.”

“Have you ever done anything, like, super illegal?”

“Nah, I was on the verge of joining the Purple Raiders back before they got big, but the guy recruiting me realised I was a chick and turned hardcore incel on me, ugh, and so I luckily dodged so many bullets when they imploded, and that snapped me back to reality real quick. It also taught huge lessons in keeping myself un-doxxed. Since then I’ve just been doing it for fun, and teaching newbies who seemed like decent enough people. So when I came across your post, I was like ‘hell no, that’s skeezy as fuck’, but then I thought I’d hear you out. And then I realised it was you and… yeah, it got me thinking.”

“And so, wait, him asking for nudes was, like, a test?”

“Yeah, and thank fuck you passed it, because I have no fucking idea how I’d have dealt with a broken heart while keeping that part of my life a secret at the same time. Maybe I’d just have pretended that he leaked it somewhere and then gotten mad at you for it, I guess.”

“And that bit about making me program you to study harder?”

“Ha, yeah, that was for fun,” she smiled coyly. “Oh, come on, like you were ever going to take the initiative on that. And you’re really going to tell me you weren’t rock hard the entire time you were in my brain twisting me to your goody two-shoes desires?”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll admit it was hot.” I pushed her down onto the bed and straddled her. “But from now on, total openness, you understand?”

“Your wish is my command, master,” she giggled, sensuously melting onto the bed underneath me.

“And, wait, when you ‘found’ the lesbian porn on my phone…?”

“Yeah, that was another little white lie. Your shitty laptop is ridiculously easy to hack into. Lucky for you I kicked out a bunch of tracker-bots that had taken up residence there before they did anything too evil. Oh yeah, hand me my phone—I’ll get our new girl over here and you can do the whole mind-takeover thing on her too.”

I handed her the phone. “Only if she consents to it.”

“Oh trust me, she’ll be into it. And you’ll fucking love her. That’s why I needed to make sure you’d have full control of me first.”

“Oh?”

She blushed, not looking up at me as she typed out a message to our mystery girl. “Yeah, so I might have made up that thing about that leak being discovered. You know; the one that made you rush over here just now. I mean, it’s not totally made up—the dark web has been drooling over the rumours of a leak ever since someone discovered the weakness last night.”

“You’re sure that giving me full control makes you, like, immune to any exploits or hacks?”

“No, I’m not. But it’s got to be the closest thing to a safeguard, right? You have full control, and there was the whole not-under-duress part—which was my brilliant inspiration, incidentally—to keep things safe. You just need to safeword if ever someone’s making you message me under duress to try and hijack me, and that way I’ll know to pretend to play along until I can nuke that freak and return to you.”

I relaxed down next to her on the bed to take the pressure off my arms and puzzle over things a little more. Something was gnawing at my mind, but there was already so much to process that I couldn’t quite place it. Angela’s phone dinged and her face lit up. “Sweet! She’ll be here in ten minutes.”

“Your parents won’t notice?”

“Nah, they’ve rushed out to lawyer up now that the news of the exploit has filtered out to the wealthy normies. It’ll be all over the mastodons by tonight, then the mainstreams should have it tomorrow morning and the stock price will tank for a week before everyone forgets all about it next week. You know, the usual way it goes.”

“And tell me again why it was so important that you made yourself my cyber-slave before we had a threesome?”

“You’re always so noble and serious about everything. I knew you’d basically consider us, like, married if we did this, you know?”

“Fair point,” I conceded, then nodded as the obvious thought occurred to me. “Marry me for real?”

“Done,” she agreed, and we sealed it with a kiss.

“Your dad won’t be pissed when he hears about it?”

“Nah, he low-key likes you. And mom thinks you’re a good influence on me. Ha, if only she knew!”

“I mean, it’s not like she’s wrong. You’re going to be a good and obedient cyborg for your human overlord.”

“Ready. To. Serve,” she said in a creepily robotic voice, startling both of us. “Wow, okay, yeah, not doing that voice again…”

Her phone dinged, just as my mind made the connection that had been bugging me. “She’s here! Be back in a sec. Or maybe a few secs, if ya know what I mean,” she waggled her eyebrows suggestively and gleefully skipped out the door, leaving me to continue working through the chain of thoughts steadily taking shape.

The authorisation number Angela had given wasn’t the number I’d been using to log in when I was hacking her brain. Which meant that either she had changed the password in the last few days, which wasn’t like her at all, or that I’d been messing with someone else’s brain. Someone who had memories of a face that looked very much like mine. But who could possibly…?

Angela returned, bringing with her a nervous and familiar face.

“Babe, this is Sophie. Sophie, this is Jeff. But you said you’ve met him before, yeah?”

“Hi Sophie,” I nodded, the pieces falling into place.

“Hi,” she smiled and blushed. “So Angie suggested we, uh… have some fun together. But she probably told you already. I, um, hope this won’t be… awkward?”

“Not if we don’t make it awkward,” I said in my taking-charge tone of voice that I’d fortunately had plenty of practice with from Angela. She recognised it, her nipples suddenly and visibly aroused under her thin silk blouse. I smiled at the sight and then focused on Sophie, “Also: wow, you look fucking great.”

“Thanks.” Sophie blushed again and turned a bit to show off in the skimpy dress she was wearing. Her legs were toned, her ass was somehow even better than it had been that day we’d had coffee—I knew I hadn’t imagined that. There was also an aura of quiet confidence around her, even if it was undercut in this particular moment by her shyness, probably because of the whole unusual situation. “I know it’ll sound crazy, but in a way it felt, um, like I was doing it for you.”

“That doesn’t sound crazier than anything we’re about to do.” I turned to Angela. “You’re still okay with this?”

“It feels a little weird, now that we’re here. Maybe you could, you know, ease my mind?”

I could read the hint and stated as fact, “You find this situation incredibly hot.”

She nodded happily. “Yeah, maybe you two could, you know… make out?”

“You consent to this?” I asked Sophie. She nodded mutely and I leaned in, cupping her cheek in my hand. “I’ve missed you,” I murmured into her ear and then kissed her deeply, feeling her melt into my arms. We pulled away from each other slowly, reluctantly.

“God, I’d forgotten how good it felt,” Sophie sighed, then cleared her throat and bit her lip. “So, uh, Angie was telling me about some, uh… mind connection thing?”

“Oho, a ’mind connection’, is it?” I teased Angela.

“Oh come on, babe, I had to come up with some kind of creative name for it while I was testing the waters so she wouldn’t freak out.”

I paused and looked at the two of them. “How did you two meet, anyway?”

“We started going to the same gym around the same time, and I remembered you said you were dating her, so I thought I’d, you know, introduce myself,” Sophie said.

Angela tilted her head in surprise. “Wait, you knew me? Like, before we met?”

“We went to the same high school. We were in different groups.”

“Huh… well, I guess that means that it was, like, fate or something, huh?”

“Sure, ‘fate’ works,” I said, then arched an eyebrow at Sophie. “So, you have some idea what you’re getting into?”

“Yeah, Angie explained about the process and everything to me. Plus people are already messaging about the risks of being hacked now that they’ve found that backdoor. I’m happy that you’re the one who’ll be in my backdoor,” she smiled slyly.

“And you realise that this will, like, be a serious commitment?”

“God I hope so,” she nodded eagerly. “Make me yours. Please.”

We went through the process again. Angela rubbed herself the whole time and, as I’d half-expected, the verification code that Sophie entered was the same one I’d been using in my hacking. When Sophie passed out while the final reset was happening, Angela panted softly. “Jesus, this is so fucking hot. Permission to cum, sir?”

“Not yet, I want us all to do it together the first time we share this.”

“God, fuck, yes, okay…” she stopped playing with herself and leaned against me, quivering. “Seriously, though, you should see her naked. The girl is a fucking Amazon.”

“You’ve seen her naked?”

“In the shower after we work out, duh.”

“Ah, right. So, funny thing, it turns out she’s the one I’ve been brain-hacking this whole time.”

“Huh?”

“She was at the clinic the same day you were, I spoke with her a few minutes before you were done. You never wondered how I got your password?”

“Huh. Yeah, somehow I got carried away with the fantasy and never thought about that detail.”

“Sophie’s lovely, but she was always a bit of a klutz. She doesn’t drop stuff in the gym, does she?”

“Not like weights and stuff—when we’re working out, she’s a machine. I guess literally. But oh my god, yes, she drops things all the time in the change rooms. So, wait, you mean when you made me want to get fit, that was just my imagination?”

“Maybe some power-of-suggestion thing, yeah. After all, I was telling that hacker guy my every move because he was so helpful and all.”

“Huh. Okay, yeah, that checks out.”

“And now that you’re my voice-controlled little thrall, it doesn’t really matter. But why don’t we make it official: you’ll work out just as hard as Sophie, to get fit and strong for me, and you’ll work hard and study hard to show the world just how incredible a master you serve.”

“For you? Anything,” Angela agreed. We made out, slowly and tenderly, and then she sighed and leaned contentedly on my shoulder again.

“You realise this means we probably can’t get married after all, right? I mean, I don’t want her to feel like she’s the side piece. Even though I know that I’m totally your main girl.”

“Ugh, you’re right. Stupid bigamy laws.”

Sophie’s eyes fluttered open and she smiled happily as she saw me. We started making out, and then it was a blur of hot bodies and raw lust until I was ready and gave the command and we all had the happy ending we hadn’t realised we’d needed so badly.

And so that was why both Angela and Sophie were safe from the first round of hacks that swept the world the following month, which was lucky because that was a nasty event that killed a couple of people and led to massive fines for the evil corporation and, just as Angela had predicted, after that everything returned to normal for everyone else while me and my brainwashed babes built our happy life together. When the next generation of chips came out and had been safety-checked a zillion ways, Angela and Sophie both got upgrades and we renewed our vows to each other, more for the security against hacking than anything else. And that was why the beautiful and charming CEO of a successful tech company and her sexy-yet-hulked-out secretary, both prime targets for online thirst and online hacking, managed to “somehow” remain unaffected when the next exploit was found in the latest generation of chips and a new round of blame and fines and patches did the rounds. Throughout it all I kept out of the limelight, happy to let my girls do their thing and lead the kickass lives they desired because, well, why not? They always came back for me in the end, and we all lived happily ever after.