The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“So who have we got today?”

“You didn’t read the profile”

“Na” Fletcher said, “What’s the point”

“The point is… it’s your fuckin’ job” Collins said.

Abel Fletcher liked Connie Collins. Even her name amused him. Connie Carol Collins. She was, like him, 26. She swore like a sailor too, and it amused him that such filth came out of such a cute little mouth.

Agents of the National Surveillance Administration (NSA) an ultra secret government agency, their duty was to combat those that might to the Unified Sections of America (USA) any harm.

Neither Fletcher nor Collins questioned their missions. The idea that those they were ‘combatting’ might not be legitimate targets—an issue that never troubled them. The USA at war against its own nationals—? That sound like a question a left-leaning unpatriotic Commie might ask.

Fletcher was athletic. He had been a track star at the College of Harvard. He studied Law, and The Ethics of Public Control—with an eye at joining a government law enforcement agency. Unmarried. Heterosexual. White. Protestant (non-practicing). He came from Saint Botolph’s, a town on the east cost. For fun he would run, or kick-box, fuck, or go watch a game of Basecube in which the Saint Boltoph Red Socks were recent world champions. He was a season ticket member to Penway Park.

Fletcher had read his partner’s Bio. Collins was medium height. She had a good size breast that was well bidden behind masculine dark shirts and suits. She had a background in IT, and in law. She was very much more intelligent than her partner. But she was more introverted. This made people mistake her shyness for lack of competency. Lesbian (“for now”—as Fletcher would say), White. Atheist (practising). She came from Stag Ford, also on the east coast. She had a thing for classic English motorcycles.

The two agents sat in a compartment immediately behind the driver’s position in a large black truck. Both wore white shirt, black pants.

Each faced a different side of the truck. There was a bank of computer monitors, and tech in front of both of them.

Driver 7-KL was upfront guiding the truck towards its destination. Neither agent saw the driver and he didn’t see them; they did very different jobs and it helped with security that people stay in their own compartmentalised tasks.

Fletcher decided to load info on their mark.

Dexter Drain… 19. What a stupid name, Fletcher winced. Drain was first year in college—a computer programmer.

His activities had brought up red flags. Enough red flags and the great computer had him as a threat—an actionable threat.

Dexter lived at home -of course. From his social media chit chat it was clear he was a virgin. Though by his browser history he was not averse to women. This got Fletcher smiling—it was information that they would use for the morphing.

Dexter lived out of the family’s basement. The electricity grid, and scanning showed it to be a hive of tech. He’d built a number of towers himself and he used his skill to try to hack a government site.

Flag #1.

His reading was toward anarchical literature.

Flag #2.

He was a young single male student

Flag #3.

Some of his inner circle were on the watch-list

Flag #4.

His professors was a known trouble-maker with an arrest for obstruction of justice, and minor drugs offences

Flag #5.

And so it went on … with the profile being built up. The attempted hacking had not been the first time he came to the NSA’s attention.

Dexter was reading on when a small buzzer chimed. A green light flashed briefly overhead.

They had arrived.

The polymorph floated in the amniotic fluid. Collins stood by a control panel. Fletcher stood staring at it.

No matter how many times he had seen it, he was always fascinated.

The white oblong flesh began to take shape. As Collins directed it, they grew it to match the profile.

“Female…?” Fletcher asked

“Of course” Collins said, “The subject is heterosexual”

Lines divided along its side… limbs forming. Its legs opened. Black hair sprouted… growing into thick public hair.

Fingers took shape. Nails grew at the end of each appendage.

A head formed, and dark hair shot up like a new growth on top of the head.

Last to form was the head.

The face; there was always some need for artistic licence. Collins enjoyed this part most of all as she gave it shape.

“What the fuck!” she spat as she saw the nose grow too long… a little adjustment and it shrunk back to a more feminine proportion.

Nipples formed at the ends of the two chest bags.

It opened its eyes. This was always the most disconcerting part for Fletcher. The blank look… nothing ‘behind’ the eyes… no consciousness. The eyes were blue.

Finally she was ready to be cooked.

The fluid drained away and the umbilicus connecting the polymorph to the machinery also began to dissolve as it came into contact with the air.

As the fluids drained she came to rest on her feet. Muscles took over for support for the first time.

The meconium came next. This was the worst part of the job… the smell. As with all new borns the bowels now began to function and the discharge was tar-black and smelly.

Fletcher took out a hose on a reel and washed her. He had a rag and he ran it over her, wiping the meconium from her and the birth fluid still on her skin.

“Have you thought of a name?” Fletcher asked as he wiped between her legs.

“You know she has to meet the profile”

“Okay, what is it?”

“Cathy”

“Cathy?” he sniggered, such a plain name.

“You just made that up?”

“No…” Collins snarled, “It’s from the profile. The subject has written porn stories centred around heroines called Cathy”

“Okay. Okay” he smiled, “I’m just bustin’ your balls”

“Well stay on your fucking job!” Collins spat

Cathy was dried. A helmet-like metal covering was brought down over her head. They uploaded her personality, and information about the subject.

At the end Cathy took a sudden deep breath. Her eyes blinked.

“Polymortph unit 48-9-U” Collins said, “…Cathy”

“Yes?” she said

“Function test”

“Testing… testing… testing…” she said “Function testing complete. Functions are within acceptable parameters…”

Fletcher led her down off the birthing unit. She shivered. She was not used to the temperature

“Come and get some clothes” he said

“Only what’s in the profile” Collins said after them as she shut down the birthing functions

“Alright… alright” he said as he lead her in the back of the truck. He could have got her to wear something sexy—like a pair of crotchless panties he had found… but that was not part of the profile

Cathy was to appear to be demure. Plain

She was given plain glass spectacles… only for ‘effect’ not function. It added to her look.

Fletcher squeezed her breath, feeling the softness of the 35C under her chequered red/blue shirt

She looked down passively at his hands as he massaged her. “Fucking amazing” he smiled as he squeezed them.

“I am not meant to fuck you” she said as a matter-of-fact

“Sure” he smiled, “I still want to get a feel of you”

He slid a hand down into her jeans. He fingered his way between her panties and her soft flesh. He found her sex. He ran his thumb over her virginal pussy.

She stood there compliantly.

“Don’t damage her!” Collins yelped when she caught him

He pulled his finger away. She stormed past him and pushed her hand down Cathy’s front. “If you’ve broken her I’ll have you court-martialled!”

“Relax” he said

Cathy looked down at Collins’ hand as she felt Cathy’s cunt. Collins was satisfied that she was still ‘intact’.

“I am undamaged” Cathy said.

“Very well” Collins said.

“Let’s get her into mind processing” Fletcher said, trying to get the subject off of him.

“Come this way” Collins said to Cathy. She was lead to a chair and seated there.

This is where they would give her the mission, and all the information pertinent to her mark. Background, likes/dislikes, everything that they knew. Particularly sexual fantasies… Cathy noted that there was a large web history of anal sex videos. She would fuck him up her ass… if she needed to. All that mattered was the mission.

Cathy knocked on the door. A woman answered “Hello?”

Cathy’s facial recognition saw that this was Elaine, the subject’s mother

“Hello” Cathy smiled, “I’m here to see Dexter…”

“Er…” Elaine said, “He doesn’t normally have visitors”

“You’ll let me see him though?” she smiled, “Won’t you?”

She reached out and ran her hand behind Elaine’s ear, allowing Elaine to smell her pheromones.

Elaine blushed.

Cathy could tell she was aroused.

She could see the change in heat patterns rising from Elaine’s body. If she needed too, she would fuck Elaine.

“Oh, hi” she said as an Alsatian came up besides his mistress. Cathy knew that this must be Rex.

She squatted down, purposely spreading her legs so he could get her scent too “Aren’t you a good boy” she said, rubbing his head

“My word!” Elaine said, “Rex doesn’t normally take to strangers”

Cathy hugged the dog. She slid a hand under him.

She felt him aroused in her hand. She smiled. She would fuck Rex too… if needed

She stood and looked at Elaine. She saw Elaine’s eyes were now fully dilated from the effects of her musk.

“I want to see your son” she said

“Er… yes… please, do come in” Elaine said

“Thank you” Cathy smiled.

“Dexter, honey” Elaine said as she lead Cathy down into the basement

“What?” he snapped

“There’s someone here to see you…”

“Tell them to fucking go away…”

Elaine blushed as she looked at Cathy… clearly embarrassed by her son’s language.

“I’ll take it from here” Cathy said

“I…”

Cathy moved closer and kissed Elaine. Not just a peck, but a passionate kiss. As she did, she slid a hand up Elaine’s dress and felt her wetness

“Leave us alone” Cathy purred, her face inches away from Elaine’s panting mouth.

“Yes” Elaine gasped, “I’ll leave you alone”

“Come boy” she said, turning to Rex.

Cathy watched them both go up the stairs. She realised she wouldn’t have to fuck the dog. It wouldn’t have mattered to her. All that mattered was the mission.

Elaine closed the door

Only then did Dexter realise he was not alone

“Who the fuck are you?” he snapped, and then sat up straight. Cathy was beautiful.

She was dressed just as his fantasies had wanted. Her hair in pony tail, she had a “J-Princess” look about her, but her face was pale, and her hair dark like a Celtic goddess.

“I’m Cathy” she smiled

He gulped… even her name was right.

She looked at the swirl of heat channeling into his groin. She smiled, realising her was getting hard already.

“May I sit down?” she whinnied in demure school-girl voice

He leapt up “Sure” he gasped tidying away a space on the couch for her. He didn’t even notice that his hard cock was bulging against his pants.

“Please..” he said

She sat down and opened her legs a little to let her scent out. Her musk wafted through the air. She could see it. He could not. But he felt it. He felt a little giddy after a moment.

“Breathe it in” she said

“Huh?”

She stood up and fanned her dress “Breathe it in”

“What’s happening?” he gasped as she half stumbled backwards

He was not one for cleanliness. It registered in her extra-sensitive nose, but she would not let his unwashed odour get in the way. She dripped fluid from her pussy, and she spread it around… her scent overpowering him with pheromones

He noticed her bare exposed pussy

She peeled off her dress. He shuddered, almost coming just looking at her

She went to him and pushed him back onto the seat. He complied. She bent down and undid his belt. Then, grabbing the end of his pants she pulled these free, exposing his stained undies

“Oh, yesss” she smiled as she saw the bulge of his erection. The fingernails on her left hand suddenly extended into claws, and she used these to cut off his undies, shredding them.

She mounted him swiftly… “I’ve not got a condom…” he stuttered

“I need your come in me” she purred as she rose up and down on his shaft

Collins and Fletcher watched on a monitor back in the truck; shown this through her eyes. Fletcher crunched chips as he watched

“This isn’t entertainment…” she snarled

He shrugged his shoulders

Cathy didn’t have long to wait—the pimply, podgy, virgin sputtered his load into her in less than two minutes. She came. She came just at thought of achieving her goal.

As soon as he finished coming she took his head and snapped it like breaking balsa wood.

She pulled up off of his still warm corpse and went to his computers

She squeezed her breasts over them, shooting her milk onto them. The computers fizzled and sparked. Plastic mouldings melted as her milk burned through them.

Just as she finished she felt the pain in her stomach. She clutched her groin. As she doubled over her stomach started to bulge

“Ahhhh” she groaned in pain. Her tummy swelled and then she was forced to squat. Her groin went into contractions and she quickly birthed a slimy gelatinous form.

It was attached to her by an umbilicus and as she recovered, panting from the ordeal it took on human form.

Collins checked her watch. After twenty minutes she picked up the radio and called in a successful birthing

The form rose up on nearly formed feet. It had Dexter’s features, but looked like a six-year old version of him

It had already opened its eyes. Still attached to her by an umbilicus it grew.

Collins checked her watch… Thirty minutes

The ‘adult’ Dexter detached from his mother. She wiped herself with a towel and then wiped his body clean of the birth blood.

He tried to speak.

She dressed. “You will need this…” she said handing him a small black square device. “You are Polymorth Uni 8F-0-7” she said to him “Confirm”

“I am Polymorth Unit 8F-0-7” he said.

She said her farewell to his mother and their dog, returning to the truck

The newly formed Dexter placed the device against his left temple and downloaded his new instructions.

Dexter was no longer a threat to society. His mother found him to be surprisingly helpful around the house. He got out more.

A few days later “Warlock 303” one of his on-line buddies contacted him in person “Say, buddy” Warlock said… they’d never met in person but Warlock knew where Dexter hung out

“Who are you?” Dexter asked

“I’m Warlock 303” he said, “And you’re Anarchy B12?”

“Yes” Dexter said

“Great” Warlock said, “We were worried when you went off-line”

“Power troubles” he lied

They had a conversation and Dexter surreptitiously reached into the back of his pants and excreted from his ass a small brown capsule. He put the tracking device into Warlock’s bag… the Agency had flagged Warlock and now they had found him.

But.. that was for over the next few weeks.

Cathy re-entered the truck. “You are to dispose of yourself” Fletcher said, “Please enter the incinerator”

“I will not”

“Your mission is over”

“I have another mission”

“Polymortph unit 48-9-U” Fletcher said, “Enter the machine”

“No” she smiled, “You have been found wanting” she said to him “Your services are no longer required…”

She opened her legs a little. Vaginal fluids formed. Fletcher clutched his head. He felt dizzy.

Fletcher shook his head. He drew his gun and fired twice. Cathy fell to the ground. Almost immediately her proteins began to break down and she lost all cohesive form. She would soon be a blob of flesh-coloured matter.

“Fuck” he said. He turned to Collins “Did you know about this?”

“I…” she began

He turned the gun on her… “Did YOU know about this?” he asked

“Calm down”

“I am calm” he snarled, shaking his head to try and ‘sober’ up

Collins stood up.

“What are you doing?”

“You need to calm down…” she said, “And get a grip”

“I have a ‘grip’” he said

“You don’t see the big picture”

“What big picture?”

“That the job is not just about you…”

“What do you…” he began. He felt heady

He noticed her crotch was wet

He clutched his head again

“Breathe it in” she smiled,

“What the fuck?” he gasped. He shook his head. Her pheromones were overpowering.

“You…bitch” he began . He tried to aim his gun but she was a blur. He fired, but missed.

She pulled off her pants and opened her legs

He felt drunk. He swooned. He fell to his knees. He fired again, and missed again

She moved forward and took the gun from him.

She opened her shirt. She squeezed her breasts.

Her milk burned him like acid… but he barely felt it. He was almost unconscious.

She dragged his bubbling body into the disposal machine.

Collins picked up the radio

“Hello base? Hello base?”

“This is base. Identify”

“Polymorth Unit 9-D-11” Collins said on the radio

“Primary mission status?”

“Completed. ”

“Secondary mission status?”

“Secondary mission completed”

“Very well, return to base for next assignment”

“Confirmed, base. Over” she said and put the radio down.

She switched to the intercom “Driver 7-KL?”

“Yes?”

“Return to base”

“Confirm. Return to base”

She did her clothes up as the truck rattled down the road…