The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It seemed Karsten had acquired a new toy, and he was as skittish as a kid on Christmas morning.

“3-D printing, Kate! A modern marvel. Whatever will they think of next.”

I had heard of this emergent new technology, but all I’d seen was people making strange artificial-looking plastic objects out of it. I couldn’t imagine that would interest Karsten Talv. In the short weeks I’d known him, I had never seen him distracted by meaningless frippery. Everything he did was with a purpose.

Somewhere around lunchtime, the thing had finally been delivered with much huffing and puffing by a team of four men, and after they’d unwrapped it and assembled it and positioned it to his satisfaction, in came the technicians. The machine was about three metres long, maybe a metre and a half wide, and two meters high. It gave the impression of immense solidity and complexity combined. Sandwiched between two sci-fi looking segments of electronics, the centre was occupied by a capacious empty glass chamber. I guessed this was where the action took place.

The technicians fussed and hummed and hawed and adjusted a whole variety of dizzyingly technical looking things, connecting up cables, a computer with not one, but three monitors, and a host of ancillary boxes and devices. Karsten was practically hopping from foot to foot in anticipation. I didn’t ask why he was so excited; he would tell me eventually, I was sure.

Karsten Talv fascinated me, and I’m sure I fascinated him too. I toyed with the O ring on my platinum collar, a recent gift, nicely symbolising my double life.

While the technicians worked on Karsten’s printer, I occupied myself browsing the manual, which I quickly hazarded offered the same brevity and accessibility as Moby Dick. Fittingly the printer did seem slightly cetacean in its smoothly curved black and white profile.

Flawless Precision! Photorealistic Build!

The Objekt 9000 is a super-advanced large-format 3D printer for rapidly creating industrial size models, prototypes, and finished products. With an unprecedentedly capacious capacity, it enables designers and manufacturers to quickly and precisely prototype any 3D design, no matter how complex or detailed.

What on earth could he possibly want to build?

The Objekt 9000 is easy to use (note: see pages 201-574 for a brief guide to operating instructions) can work for prolonged unattended periods, and is perfectly suited for automotive, defense, aerospace, consumer goods, household appliances, machinery and other industries. Like all Objekt 3D Printers, it combines precision and detail with a host of material options. With the right materials at hand, it can print literally anything at all.

A sudden low thrum of power, and I looked up from the manual. The machine was on, now, and lights flickered around its slightly disturbing-looking carapace. The technicians fussed on, powering up the computer and running various diagnostics on the thing, the Objekt 9000.

The Objekt 9000 combines the advanced precision of Krystalline 3D printing with renowned Objekt multi-material build capability. Objekt technology offers a choice of more than 5,000 materials. You can print as many as 2,500 materials in a single model to achieve the precise look and feel of your envisioned end product.

NOTE: Not suitable for home use.

“Come and see,” he said. I put down the manual with some relief, and sashayed over to where the printer sat, brooding and humming. “We’re going to test it now.”

A few keystrokes from one of the interchangeable technicians, and the thing surged suddenly into life. It was faster than I had expected. In the chamber, behind the glass, mechanical arms whizzed back and forth, faster than I could follow, faster than the eye could see. And in the chamber, behind the glass, something very slowly began to take shape.

Karsten actually clapped his hands with joy.

Later, when the technicians had finally gone, he placed the test product—a beautifully executed scale replica of Rodin’s Kiss—fondly on the table, and opened some wine. A Chassagnet Montrachet, I think it was, nicely chilled as always. We sat and admired The Kiss. Karsten Talv always loved his art, his beautiful objects.

“This is the future,” he said. “Why go shopping when you can make anything you want, right here in your own home?”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Can it make dinner?” I asked. “The amusing house wine?”

He laughed. “Who knows? It can make so much. Clothes, perhaps. Electronic items, even complex ones. And if it was bigger—the next generation, perhaps—you could even make, say, a car. This is nanoscale stuff; so many options. Things we could make via no other means. Authentic things, nonetheless. Unknown, impossible geometric forms. The list is endless.”

He is always full of surprises. I thought of Tokyo, half a world away, and my new High Flying job, and I realised with regret that whatever happened here, we wouldn’t have very long together, now. I hadn’t even managed to find time for him to take me to Tallinn. You can never have it all. We needed to make the most of it while it lasted. He was good at that, actually.

“And what is on your to-do list, Karsten?”

“You, of course. I’d like to make a wonderful present for you. Something truly unique.”

A wonderful present. I thought back to our first meeting, just a few weeks ago, and how far and fast I had come since then.

New York was crazy busy, that winter, and my work had been getting ever more frantic, in a good way. Now I was fast-tracking, flying high. I was being sent to head up the Asia regional office soon. I was entrepreneurial, focused, in control, goal-oriented, results-driven; all the things I should be, and it was all running like clockwork, 24/7. But strategising across multiple time zones was stressful and weird; consequently, I had taken to unwinding with a few drinks on my own at odd hours. So doing, I often found myself batting off the attentions of men.

“Hello.” A voice, male. Not unexpected. “Do I know you?”

Looking up from my magazine, I saw a tall lightly tanned guy in his, what, late thirties? Early forties? He had longish dark brown, almost black, hair, very well cut. His chin was artfully stubbled. A quick look told me he was dressed casually but expensively, and his clothes hung well on an athletic looking body. He was very obviously well off, but not ostentatiously so. His eyes sparked vivid green.

The guy was staring at me, half smiling, half frowning. I raised an eyebrow. The hotel bar buzzed gently, obliviously, around us.

“You do look really very familiar,” he continued. “Have we met before?”

I couldn’t place the face or the voice. He was certainly not American, I thought, or English. European, perhaps? He was intensely charismatic, magnetic almost. I felt the stirrings of attraction in my belly. I smiled back.

“No … I don’t think so,” I replied, smiling to let him know that I knew the game, but that this was not necessarily a brush off. Yet. That would be entirely my call.

He looked at me intently. There was something in his eyes I hadn’t come across before.

“I know you,” he stated.

I shifted on my bar stool, naturally wary. After all, the last thing had been a disaster; the thing before that hadn’t worked out at all, and nor had the thing before that, nor the other, parallel, thing, come to think of it. In fact, what with all the pressures and conflicting priorities of Fast Tracking and generally Flying High, one way or another nothing in that department had delivered results according to plan in quite a while. So let’s look on the bright side, I thought—there are always more fish in the sea. A few stray memories swirled and surfaced, heightening the undeniable feeling of attraction.

“Well now, mister—“

“Talv. Karsten.”

“— I can tell you for sure, no, we haven’t met before.”

“We’ve met now, though,” said Karsten Talv, sliding onto the next bar stool with absolute assurance. “So what’s the difference?”

At which point, in the space of no more than the few seconds it took for him to settle and attract the attention of the bartender, the internal dialogue flashes through -

I’m not sure I should be talking to this guy…

Why not just do it? Stop agonising about everything.

It’s just not like me. I simply don’t do that sort of thing. I don’t know anything about him. He could be anybody.

Take a risk, then! Take a leap of faith! What’s to lose?

Something about him makes me nervous, that’s all.

You’ll never get to know him if you don’t take the leap, will you? What are you going to do, sit around in your pyjamas all weekend like a sad sack, all work and no play? You just never know what might happen. In any case, you’re in control. You’re always in control. You’ll be in Tokyo in six months’ time. Live now!

Well… he is very good looking…

… and all of a sudden I was smiling at him, like an idiot.