The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The garden looks as if it’s meticulously kept, but nobody keeps it. For years, the local government tried to figure out who was sneaking in and maintaining it, but they could never manage to find any individual. Setting up cameras at every conceivable angle turned up nothing. So they did what any small municipality would do: They ignored it. And it’s why you’ve hiked up a dry, hot mountain for days, to a place only identified by its GPS coordinates. You had to see this anomaly.

But you’re not the first. People have disappeared without a trace, but they were never people who mattered enough to the powers that be. And soon enough, word began to get around on creaky seldom-used Internet forums. They were your kind of weirdos. It was on one such forum that people daydreamed about transformation and dronehood. All kinds of crazy things were written there: Far-out sci-fi fantasies, mind control roleplays, and real life facts that might be incorporated into further works. And it is here you were introduced to the concept of a sentient forest via an all-caps rant on the topic. The thread was a train-wreck, and you couldn’t stop reading it. As the original poster was egged on, they spun tale upon crazy tale of never-documented plant species, strange voices and yells, disappearances, and half-plant drones. They called the cluster of intelligent plantlife “The Configuration”. Plant revenge for us humans fucking up the earth. Entertaining bullshit.

But as the days went on, you couldn’t stop thinking about the idea. It didn’t sound so bad, being abducted by the forest, being repurposed to suit its goals. What if it’s real? What if you could be more than just human? What if that person wasn’t crazy? So, you planned a trip.

And now you stand in the middle of The Configuration, feeling the dust beneath your feet, hot enough to be slightly uncomfortable but not to burn. It’s hot and there’s nobody around, so you remove your shoes, shirt and pants. The sunlight and dryness hits your skin hard, sweat quickly evaporating to a salty coating.

You look around.

It’s beautiful. A roaring waterfall deadens the sound and creates a fine mist. Ivy covers much of the rock and wraps around formidable tree trunks. Trichosanthes-like flowers bloom, their fine tendrils curling outwards. The fresh smell of rich wet soil hits your nose. Pine. And something almost like citrus, but not. You can’t quite place it. But the trunks twist in intricate patterns, snaking in all directions and twisting around each other. None of it makes any sense. How can there be a roaring waterfall when this is the highest point in a dry desert? Why hasn’t any of this been documented?

This can’t just be a garden. There’s something more here. You feel like you’re being watched, as if you can sense an intelligence inhabiting this place. And as you so often do, your mind drifts to assimilation fantasies. What would it be like to be part of The Configuration? You reach down towards your crotch and begin to rub. Am I being watched? Would they be watching me do this? Your other hand goes to your nipple, encircling it, pinching it.

The vines sense that you are in agreement with them; aligned in your goals. Thick ropes of waxy green encircle your neck and chest, and coil around your biceps, your thighs. Testing the tautness of the binding strands, you thrash with as much strength as you can muster, but each limb only pulls an inch to each side. You attempt to test it again, but your stream of thought is interrupted as it violently pulls you upwards and back, into the foliage.

Suddenly, darkness. You slowly gather your bearings and realize you are deep inside the being. It is peaceful here. You are inside The Configuration. Branches in elaborate patterns spiral outward in every direction. The muffled roar of the waterfall nearly blocks out every other sound, but occasionally a gentle warm wind blows through the interior, rustling the leaves.

Ahead of you is a greenish-brown pod, sealed shut as far as you can tell. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see that you are flanked by strikingly human-like forms. But you can’t quite make out what they really are. You want to turn your head, and you try so hard, but The Configuration makes sure that you are unable to catch more than a quick glimpse before your muscles give in. It’s too dark. Only sIlhouettes. In front of each of the beings is an open pod. You can’t help but have second thoughts. Is this what I really want? But you know that it is now an inevitability.

The sound of tiny fibers snapping catches your ears as the pod slowly opens. You gaze into its dark core, curiously. Tendrils shoot out, embedding themselves in your pores, seeking ducts and veins, roots finding their source of nourishment. As your body fluid flows into them, it secretes a dark substance back into your circulatory system. The material seeps into the surrounding tissue, a network of deep green lines splashes across your skin, threading themselves through layers of tissue. Your nipples and crotch feel hot as this alien plant life begins processing them. A small wave of pleasure ripples through your being. A second ago, you were frightened. But now, you find yourself intrigued once again. Yes, you need this!

Thick, leaf-like material weaves armor across your torso. It is beautifully contoured, with thick veins raised against the waxy skin. You feel pinching sensations all over as it burrows through your body, entangling with the plantwork already embedded in you. Two perfect mounds begin to form on your chest, pushing up the leaf armor, straining it. The remaining visible human skin takes on a shiny, waxy coating, giving it an eerie blue tinge.

Your vision distorts as the left retina becomes a phytochrome sensory array. Thorns push through your shoulders and scalp like spikes. But your gaze is fixed straight ahead, staring at absolutely nothing. A tube goes into your mouth, and you greedily drink from it, the bitter white sap providing nourishment. It is pushed farther and farther in until it is simply feeding you directly.

Pleasure builds inside you, the heat increasing and tingling spreading over your body. Something cool and wet presses up against your anus. Hesitating for a second, it slowly but firmly pushes in. It locks into place, and you can feel pulling and jostling deep within you as it intertwines with what has taken root inside and which has engulfed your human genitalia.

It’s too much to bear. You involuntarily strain against the vines holding you, which only serves as a reminder that you are completely at the mercy of The Configuration. The units to each side of you twitch as your pleasure is spread through the collective. Just when you feel you are about to burst, you feel an intense release as your crotch opens up. The new opening is plant, not mammal: Reminiscent of a venus flytrap, but mouths behind mouths, with fine tendrils in the middle.

Eyes going wide, your human mouth opens to let out the orgasm, revealing rows of thorns for teeth. You feel yourself yell, the feeding tube withdrawing as you do so. Your voice is only vaguely familiar: There is a second voice doubling yours. It is low, raspy, and strange. Tendrils shoot out of the center of your vaginal opening, propelled by a thick vine-like appendage. A milky white substance is forced through you. Your new genitalia gives a quick spurt, spattering the leaves ahead. You pant, trying unsuccessfully to catch your breath, the orgasm still resonating inside your new body.

And as you pant, you feel something at the bottom of your throat. It is growing upwards in your lungs. Your gasping turns to wheezing. It feels like sucking air through a bundle of plastic straws. Sensing your agitation, your new body secretes drugs to calm the new unit. Things are ok. This is right. The doubt disappears. In this newly relaxed state, an orgasm effortlessly burbles up from its core. It grunts, the rough tone reminding it of its conversion. A small pinch at the back of its neck as the interface goes in.

All is silent aside from the distant rustle and the low, muffled roar of the waterfall. As you breathe, the growth in your throat takes the CO2 and replenishes the oxygen in your bloodstream. Everything feels so peaceful. So certain. Nothing hurts.

An enormous orgasm begins building. It washes over you, your body convulsing with the others as you spray the leaves with white sap from your hybrid reproductive organs. You can’t hear anything but your blood rushing and your own muffled cries.

The conversion is complete. The next beings that will inhabit the earth will belong to both the animal and the plant kingdom. A cyborg of nature, each unit a completely self-contained ecosystem. With all slots in the foliage filled, the branches part. Smaller vines feeding the drones stretch and snap as the drones take their first step into the world, ready to convert a declining human race.