The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“YES! We’ve DONE it!!” Dr. Clayton Devonshire exclaimed, glancing at the computer readouts. “Angela, come see, quickly!! Come and see!!” It was a practice in willpower not to leap over the desk and dance with glee. After nearly twenty years of research, he had done the impossible. He had found a way to repair human nerve cells. His lovely female assistant, Angela, strode across the room, looking at the computer monitors, checking and double-checking the results. Normally, the sight of the lovely, curvaceous twenty-six year old redhead so close to him would have caused his heart to flutter. But not today. The success of his lifelong dream was all that occupied his attention at the moment. “We’ve finally done it, my dear. After all these years, we’ve achieved a medical breakthrough!”

Dr. Devonshire pressed the control, causing his motorized wheelchair to back up, then turn towards the screen on the opposite wall. The screen showed a microscopic view, magnified several million time, of the latest sample of inert brain material. A thousand little dots were floating by, some intersecting the brown, unresponsive cells, entering them, and moments later, causing them to rejuvenate, pulsing again with new life, surging with small electric surges once again. The good doctor closed his eyes and sighed, thinking back on the long hard arduous journey to this miracle. As a young child, he’d been fascinated with science fiction, and Star Trek had been his favorite television show. The crotchety old doctor, ‘Bones’, had been an idol, and the youth had devoted his life to following in his footsteps, breezing through high school, then college, then graduating Medical school in record time. By age twenty-five, he held Doctorates in Microbiology and Human Physiology. When a drunken driver crashed into him a year after, paralyzing him from the waist down, he had taken it better than most, merely devoting his energy and talents into the pursuit of a treatment, a cure for paralysis and nerve cell damage, not just for him, but for all of mankind.

His work had gone far, and he had advanced the medical field very far by himself, but it wasn’t until joining with an up and coming scientist, Dr. Angela Barton, that his work made the quantum leap forward. Dr. Barton had combined her knowledge of robotics and technology, with his medical knowledge, and together they had developed the prototype synthetic viroid cells that they now tested. Following the latest incarnation of his favorite sci-fi show, he called his prototype cells Neo-Nannites. Their function, simply put, was to invade dormant or damaged nerve and muscle cells, repair the damage, reorganize the nucleic sequence to prevent future cells from suffering the same kind of damage, and reanimate the cell. Nerve and brain cells, unlike most other types of cells in the body, did not regenerate when damaged. Once a nerve is cut, or a section of brain mass destroyed, there is nothing to be done. The patient copes, the body adjusts and learns to compensate for the damage. With his new Neo-Nannites, however, Dr. Devonshire could now bring damaged cells back to life, bringing back feeling to nerve damaged patients, restoring memories and clear thinking to Alzheimer’s sufferers, and giving the paralyzed, like himself, the chance to walk again.

“Yes!” Angela cried out in delight, breaking him out of his musings. “Its incredible doctor! The viroid cells are rejuvenating the damaged cells!! And look! Those neurons in grids five, six, and seven have already begun to fire! You...you’ve really done it!” she said in awe.

“No,” the doctor said shaking his hand, moving his chair over to the young scientist. “Not me. ‘WE’ did it, Angela! The two of us! Together!” he said, clasping her hand, sighing. “They laughed at us, saying we were pursuing a pipe dream. Our backers gave up, cut our funding, making us work on a shoe-string budget, yet...yet through it all we never gave up! And now we have The Cure! Just think of it Angela, we’ll both share the Nobel Prize!”

Angela laughed, clenching his hand and hugging the older man warmly before running over to the phone to alert the media. “This is fantastic!” she exclaimed. “We’re going to be rich! I can hardly wait to see the look on those bastards’ faces when we announce our findings to the world! Then they’ll wish they had hung in there when we needed their financial support!” Eyes glazed with greed, Dr. Barton was already planning where and how to spend the billions and billions of dollars their invention would bring once they had it patented. Clayton’s next words brought her immediately back down to earth.

“Rich? Oh no. Oh, no, no, no, Angela,” he said firmly. “This new marvel is too important to market for financial gain. This is something to be SHARED freely with the world! I intend to make the process and technology available to every medical and pharmaceutical company in the world.” Seeing the incredulous look on Dr. Barton’s face, he quickly added, “Oh, don’t worry, Doctor, we’ll still own the patent on the process, and the royalties alone, plus the shared Nobel Prize, should net us both a few million at least. But I don’t want this to become a monopoly, and as soon as the AMA gives it the “Go Ahead”, I’m ready to start mass producing it.”

Angela managed a shaky half-smile. “Oh...well, okay then...if you insist Dr. Devonshire.” The crazy old bastard! She thought furiously to herself. Who is he to decide for ME how this technology is to be used? I’ll be damned if I am going to give up a billion dollars to that old man’s moral decency! “When does the report go to the AMA board for final approval?”

Dr. Devonshire sighed, curbing his enthusiasm, as he navigated his chair back to the main computer terminal. “We’ve tested it on dead tissue, on laboratory animals, and on living human cell samples, with no adverse effects. The only test left is to try it out on a live human subject, to see how the Neo-Nannites will affect the person as a whole. We know how the viroids affect damaged cells, but until we can show in great detail just how it affects normal living cells in a human body, the AMA will not pass the procedure. Looks like at least another three months of testing.” Yawning suddenly, the doctor grinned sheepishly. “Well, its been a long night, Dr. Barton. I think we should lock up the lab and head home. We can start looking for suitable human test subjects tomorrow. There isn’t much money left in the budget to pay them, so we’ll have to search thoroughly.”

Angela was already thinking ahead. “We should try the prison population first,” she said, helping him shut down the computer systems. “Most convicts will agree to work for free, for the chance of a lighter jail sentence, and volunteering to help with this important research would look good on their record at the next parole hearing.”

“Great idea, Angela!” he exclaimed, switching off the lights, and rolling towards the door. “We’ll give the State Penn a call first thing in the morning. Angela, my dear, I don’t know what I would do without you.” Watching as he turned towards the door, Angela thought to herself, I don’t know, but soon enough, I’ll be doing MUCH better without you! The doctor rolled himself outside, to the parking lot, where his specially configured car awaited him. Driving to the guard gate, he flashed his ID, waved to the guard, John, and drove out.

A man of habit, he stopped at the usual all-night convenience store, and bought a cup of coffee. As he was wheeling back to his car, he saw Angela sitting on his hood, legs crossed, apparently waiting on him. “An—Angela? Wha...well this is a surprise. Did you forget to tell me something back at the lab?”

She smiled at him, a feral look, as she brought the .38 revolver from behind her back, leveling it at his chest. “Yes, as a matter of fact I did. I forgot to say that I don’t really need you anymore, now that we’ve perfected the little Viroid probes. All your research is back at the lab, along with the prototype probes you created. It’s a shame that it has to be this way, Clayton, really, I kind of liked you. I kind of thought of you as the father I never had...but I’ll be DAMNED if I am going to let a fortune slip through my fingers just to satisfy your stupid morals. Goodbye, Clayton,” she said as she pulled the trigger, firing point blank range into his chest. The doctor fell from his wheelchair, glancing down at the oozing hole in his chest where his front pocket used to be. He looked up at her, eyes wide in shock. “Try to think of this as a way of finally leaving that wretched wheelchair.” She continued to fire, five more times, until she had emptied the chamber. Glancing around, and seeing no one, she quickly darted off, to her car parked in a nearby alleyway, out of sight, and made her escape.

Clayton lay there on the ground, numb with shock, feeling his life’s blood pouring onto the slick pavement. One of the bullets had undoubtedly nicked his spine, for aside from the initial pain of the bullets entering, he had felt no pain at all. Time began to slow to a crawl, and as he drew what he knew would be his last breath, he thought with grim satisfaction that Dr. Barton was denied the priceless prototype Neo-Nannites, which, being paranoid, he had brought home with him in the front pocket of his lab coat. The greedy scientist had destroyed the only remaining sample of their work with the very first bullet when she shot him. Laughing inside, Clayton Devonshire let the black kiss of oblivion slide over him, like the caress of a lover’s lips, guiding him to eternity.