The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Ramirez groaned as she started to return to consciousness. Her sleep had been filled with dreams, most of them disturbing. Whatever that sedative was, it had left her groggy, and in no mood to spring quickly back to wakefulness.

The oldest trick in the book! A Trojan horse that she had happily allowed into her citadel. She cursed her lack of suspicion. A whole deep space station fallen to the Imperium—this was not going to look good at all on her annual fitness report...

“She should be awake soon, Katie.” An unfamiliar voice.

“Ram? Can you hear me?”

Her eyelids still felt too tired to lift, but Ramirez recognized the second voice. “Katie?” A pause, and a new surge of despair. “They got you too? Damn it.”

Muller’s voice was, unaccountably, flavored with amusement. “Get me? Why, I suppose they did, Ram.” Her tone changed to one of concern. “How are you feeling?”

“Crappy.” There was a small but persistent headache, and her body still refused to move to her commands. “What did they hit us with, do you know?”

“A synthetic nerve agent,” Muller informed her. “Quite safe, I understand, but with a rapid onset, and long duration of effect.”

“How did they... oh, never mind.” Ramirez tried to gather her thoughts, but her brain wasn’t cooperating. Opening her eyes seemed like a good idea.

It was briefly reassuring to see Muller’s concerned face looking down at her. It was much less reassuring to find herself secured in an automated restraint wheelchair—the last time she had seen anyone in these, it had been a docking crew member inadvertently exposed to alien fungal spores which had driven them temporarily psychotic.

“Katie, what’s going on?”

Muller squeezed her hand in an attempt at reassurance. “Ram, I know this is weird. Trust me, OK?” She stroked Ramirez’s cheek. “We’re going to have a look around. Aunty Em thought it would be good idea for you to see what we’re doing.”

“Hello, my dear Ram.” An older woman, with old-fashioned spectacles hanging from her neck, appeared from behind Muller. “I’m Aunty Em. You know, we’re going to be getting to understand each other much better, soon.”

“Who are you?” Ramirez struggled to look around her, but there seemed to be no-one else in the room. She wondered why Muller seemed so unconcerned about Ramirez’s current predicament, when she appeared to be completely free.

“Aunty Em was the one who showed me how I was thinking about everything the wrong way,” Muller explained. She sighed. “I’ve been so dumb, Ram, so blind. We all have, you know.”

“Katie,” said Ramirez, trying to keep her voice steady, “are you telling me that you’ve been... brainwashed?”

Muller knelt by Ramirez’s chair. “Ram, darling, you, me, our crews—every single one of us, has been brainwashed. We’ve all been thinking about things completely the wrong way in the Alliance. It took Em and her friends to show us how much better things could be.”

Ramirez stared into her friend’s eyes. She prided herself on her ability to read people, and had reliably taken money off Muller and other captains in friendly games of Texas Hold Em. All she saw in there now, though, was absolute sincerity.

“All right,” she said, dubiously. “So, we go take a look around at what you’ve been doing to what used to be my station. Then, what?“

The older lady—Aunty Em?—smiled at her. “We’ll have a friendly talk, my dear. Find out a bit more about each other. And, I don’t want you to think that you’ve lost the station.” She gestured around. “It’s still yours to run, my darling Ram. We just need to show you ‘how’.”

“Uh-huh.” Ramirez looked down at the chair’s restraints, holding her very firmly in place. “Any chance I can take the tour on my own two feet?”

Em shook her head, still smiling. “I’m sorry, my dear, but you might be tempted to do something a bit silly before you fully understand what’s happening. Just enjoy the ride. Katie will be your guide.”

The room doors opened, and Muller led the way out of the room, Ramirez’s chair following, apparently automatically.

“Bye-bye, my darlings!” Em gave them a wave. “Have a nice time. I’ll see you later.”

Muller and Ramirez’s chair trundled along the main ring corridor. Several people in Alliance uniforms passed them, smiling at Ramirez, and greeting Muller. There were also several groups of Imperium robots, transporting large but anonymous bulky loads in hard cases—they gave no sign of acknowledgement to the two women.

“C’mon, Katie, just let my arms free,” Ramirez wheedled. “I promise to behave.”

Muller laughed. “Oh, Ram, you kill me. I’ve not seen you toe the line to anyone for—years, I think? That’s why I love you, darling, you’re such an independent spirit. It’s almost certainly why Aunty Em wants to spend so much time with you.” She stroked her friend’s hair, and—despite her situation—Ramirez felt a rush of affection towards her friend.

“Besides, " Muller admitted, “I don’t have the release code. Just follow along, chica. You’ll find this very interesting.“

The first stop was the main crew training room. Muller held her finger to her lips as she punched in the access code, and Ramirez strained to look around as her chair rolled inside.

The room had undergone substantial changes. Desks and benches gone, it was now filled by rows of comfortable-looking chairs, each occupied by one of Ramirez’s crew. Ramirez took notice of the restraints that held each woman in their chair—apparently naked, for some reason—and the metal frame holding their heads immobile between complex-looking metal pads. Nobody’s eyes turned to look at the two entrants; everyone appeared to be staring straight ahead at something invisible. Eyes flickered slightly from time to time, and there was the occasional mumble, but there was a very clear impression that every crew member here was engaged in an alternate reality. A few people in Alliance uniform patrolled the rows, occasionally stopping to administer a drink to a vacant crewman.

“Basic training,” Muller informed Ramirez. “This is where we break the crew from the Alliance’s indoctrination, and teach them the new skills and associations that they’ll need to thrive.”

Ramirez had been scanning faces, and already deducted a common theme. “No officers.”

“Correct,” Muller smiled. “Officers are... more interesting. Let’s see how.”

They resumed their travel down the corridor. Ramirez was reflecting on what she’d just seen—her whole enlisted crew, more or less, being steadily brought to a point of loyalty to the Imperium. This must have also worked for Muller’s crew, otherwise she’d never have been able to bring her cruiser in to dock with no drama. What had the Imperium learned, to make this transformation work at such scale? What had they learned to change in the mind of Alliance crew?

They passed a half-open red/orange door marked “Correction”. Sounds of construction, and flashes of laser welding, came from inside.

“Not ready yet,” said Muller, answering Ramirez’s unspoken question. “Aunty Em doesn’t think you’ll need this feature for a while.” Muller shivered briefly. “I hope she’s right. They’ll be sending out a Corrector to you in the next couple of weeks, I understand.”

“A ‘Corrector’...” Ramirez didn’t like the sound of that.

“They help people figure out what is the right thing to do,” Muller explained. “I can’t really tell you more. A lot of the effect is in the surprise.”

Ramirez let it go, but red lights were flashing internally.

Sick Bay was their next stop. Ramirez didn’t recognize the smiling woman in nursing uniform who was overseeing the installation, but had no problem identifying her Chief Medical Officer and Operations Officer, lying on two of the beds with glazed expressions.

“Doc? Ops? Are you ok?”

The nurse stroked the shoulders of her charges. “I’m sorry, Captain, they’re heavily sedated right now. We’re about to install their neural cut-outs.”

Ramirez looked at Muller, confused. Muller was ready with an explanation. “It lets us disassociate their conscious will from actions. It’s much harder to override the Alliance programming for officers—this gives us a short-circuit around it.”

Ramirez wasn’t ready to accept the fait accompli. “Ops! Jeanine! Can you hear me?“

Ops responded, but barely, with a “mmmmh”.

“Open your eyes for me, Jeanine! That’s an order!”

She half-expected the nurse, or maybe even Muller, to object, but both women simply smiled at her.

Ops mumbled something, but Ramirez could not discern any meaning to it.

The nurse patted Ramirez’s restrained hand. “She’ll be fine, my dear. And much happier. Let us do our work on her.”

Muller moved out of Sickbay, Ramirez’s chair inevitably following, and continued her walk around the ring. Ramirez, unable to change her journey’s path, thought furiously about what she’d just seen.

“They did that to you, Katie?”

Muller looked at her friend, and laughed. “Me? Ram, darling, my brain is untouched. Check me for scars, if you like.” She slowly rotated her head in front of Ramirez’s view.

Ramirez couldn’t deny Muller’s case—there was no sign of any physical intrusion into her head.

“Then how... how did you get to here? Katie, I really can’t understand how you’re showing me all this with such equanimity.” She pulled at her restraints in frustration. “Don’t you see how wrong this is? How you’re undermining the Alliance, your oaths?”

Muller stopped, and knelt next to Ramirez’s chair. “Ram, darling, I know this is difficult to accept. It’s a lot to take on trust, but try to trust me: this is the right way to go for us all.”

Ramirez stared at her friend for a while, realizing she had no real leverage. “OK Katie, let’s continue the tour. See if you can persuade me.”

Crewman Kovac was already regretting her late-night poker game with the girls in Security. It had run long, as they got carried away with a duel between Kovac and the security chief, and by the time it had wrapped up, she was late for her shift.

Her Lieutenant had been more understanding than she had expected, but she had still been assigned the scut work of the monthly inspection of power panels throughout the crawl spaces around the ring. Being on her hands and knees for the whole shift was already making her small financial win seem like a bad overall trade.

Her communicator pinged. “Jelena, how are you doing?”

She held off replying until she’d completed the current panel diagnostic, then took a seat next to the panel, and sighed. “Hey, Nia. Panel 14 just done. My knees are killing me.”

Nia was sympathetic. “That job sucks. It would have been better to be me—at least, I’m short.”

Kovac grinned. “You’re volunteering to take over?”

Nia laughed. “Absolutely not. You’re on your own, girl. I’ll give you a back massage when you’re done, though.”

“That’s why I love you, Nia. Warm up that oil.”

“You got it, Jelena.” The comms channel clicked off.

Kovac took a swig of water from her bottle—the above-ring crawl spaces stayed uncomfortably warm—and started her crawl down towards Panel 16. Her knee pads and gloves helped, but she could already feel spasms in her back muscles which she expected to get worse real soon.

Unexpectedly, her forearms gave way, and she face-planted onto the crawlspace floor. “Dammit!” She tasted a small amount of blood in her mouth. Had she just slipped?

She tried to push herself back up, but her arms weren’t complying. What was going on?

Then her legs gave way, and she slumped to a prone position on the floor. She could barely wiggle her fingers, and any chance of touching her comms badge was clearly beyond reality.

Kovac stared ahead, her body now completely uncompliant. Had she touched something toxic? She couldn’t think of anything. It couldn’t have been an electric shock—she would have felt something.

Minutes ticked by, then gradually she lost track of time. She couldn’t even tilt her head to look down at her chronometer, and the time display on the repaired panel was directly behind her. Without any visual stimulus, her mind started to wander into strange places—was this a dream? How did she wake up?

A rhythmic tramp pulled her out of her reverie. Apparently coming from a hatch just in front of her, Kovac couldn’t see what was causing it, but it sounded like a military squad walking down the corridor underneath her. Or, maybe not—the footsteps sounded too heavy, and just too precise in timing. She strained to move forwards just a bit, to be able to see through the louvers in the hatch, but her body remained stubbornly unavailable.

The marching faded away, and Jelena was left to wonder what was going on. She would have expected to hear a lot more foot traffic—and voices—by now. It seemed reasonable to assume that, whatever had caused her body paralysis, had affected at least some of the rest of the station. Neither her Lieutenant nor Nia had checked in with her since the start of the incident, so either they were affected too, or they were busy reacting to.... whatever this was, and staying dark.

The situation, though terrifying in abstract, quickly became boring for Kovac. With no external stimulation, other than the occasional passing of the rhythmic marchers, she was left staring ahead of her, unable to exercise any form of control over her body. Once or twice, she thought she heard Nia’s voice, but it was like waking from a dream, and she realized, with frustration, it was almost certainly her hallucinating.

Eventually she felt the weight of fatigue on her, and slowly succumbed to a restless sleep.

Their next stop was the quarters for the station’s raider pilots. Ramirez hadn’t seen any of these women in the original “reprogramming” room, but she was less familiar with them compared to most of the crew. The two raider squadrons assigned to the station were on six-month rotations, three months apart. Ramirez knew their two squadron leads reasonably well, but didn’t normally interact with the rest of the crews.

She wasn’t surprised to see the space radically transformed, but the layout was very different to the crew reprogramming room. Here, six complicated metal frames each encased the body of a raider flyer. There were innumerable connections from the frame to the body—electrodes, probes, tubes, restraints, and a gas mask clamped to the raider’s lower face. Ramirez could see each body twitching in response to whatever stimuli the frame was providing. Headphones and an ocular mask shut out reality for each raider.

“What are you doing to them?” Ramirez was fascinated, despite her situation. No one configured such an elaborate apparatus without a very well-defined aim.

“Raiders are the Imperium’s eyes and hands,” Muller explained. “Tying them to an extremely strong sexual stimulus, associated with a specific set of audio signals, gives us the ability to disable Alliance ships, and bring them into the fold.” She made a face. “That’s how we got my cruiser. I’m glad they did, otherwise I wouldn’t be here, but I don’t mind admitting to you that I’m a bit embarrassed professionally about how easily Julie and Alice nailed us.”

Muller perked up. “Without that, though, I wouldn’t be in this position to bring you into the fold, Ram. So, I can’t really feel too sorry.”

Ramirez held back her comments, her eyes fixed on one raider whose body was vibrating like a jelly on top of a drill press, and whose moans of obvious pleasure inevitably made her wonder what it would be like to be secured in that frame.

“Anyway, those are the raiders,” Muller said, scrolling down on her personal data pad. “Compliance is next—and I have to admit, I don’t know much about them. Let’s go take a look.”

Kovac woke with a numb feeling in her left leg. Instinctively, she reached down to scratch it

Her left arm moved! Not as much as she had wanted, but there was distinct motion.

Focusing herself on her arm, Kovac tried to command some motion. The arm flopped around—she didn’t have anything close to fine motor control yet, but there was at least some movement.

Over the next half hour, she focused like a solar lens on that arm. Steadily, she felt control returning to her, until she could pull the arm forward and view her chronometer.

“Son of a bitch!” She had been disabled for about thirty hours.

Next order of business was to get eyes on her situation. She dragged her body forwards until she got a near-ideal view through the louvers on the hatch, and settled down to watch.

It didn’t take long for the next set of marching sounds to approach. Kovac peered through the grille to see what was making them.

Foreign robots! A squad, pushing large equipment cases on several trolleys. Kovac was familiar with all common models of Alliance robots, and these were obviously different. Crap! The only plausible explanation she could fit to the available facts was that the station had been substantially taken over by a non-Alliance power.

Kovac caught herself wondering idly how this would affect the station’s command crew. Future promotion was unlikely, she suspected.

Never mind that! What should she do now?

Reality intruded, and Kovac realized that she needed to pee. Whatever the paralysis mechanism, it had held off her basic biological demands—now it had been shed, her bladder was not happy, and telling her this in no uncertain terms.

She tentatively tried to crawl forwards, and—to her relief—her body mostly obeyed. She edged slowly towards the hatch until she could grasp the release catch. Carefully, aware of the clumsiness of her fingers right now, she unhooked it, then held it in place as she listened carefully for any sounds from below.

Nothing came, and so before she thought better of it, she let the catch go. The hatch lowered itself into the corridor space, and the integral ladder slid down.

Kovac positioned her butt on the edge of the opening, felt for a firm footing on the ladder, then slowly descended into the corridor. Once on the floor, she rechecked for any sounds, then hit the “close” button on the hatch. As the ladder and hatch withdrew into the ceiling, she withdrew into a small spur corridor just down from the hatch, eyes darting around in a search for trouble.

Her bladder reiterated its need for some pressure relief, and at this point it wasn’t something she could ignore. Fortunately, the bathroom was only two doors down the spur corridor, and she took full advantage, sighing in happiness.

All right—what now? This seemed to be a station takeover scenario. She had no known allies, communications were almost certainly compromised—she cursed, pulled her badge off, and flipped the microswitch that disabled it and its locator feature.

She collected her thoughts, remembering where she was on the ring. The command-and-control spaces were too far away, and in any case were almost certainly compromised. However, there were several docking bays nearby which should be empty, if she remembered correctly.

Suppose she were to get to one of those bays. That would give her some time to hide, station console access to see if she could obtain any useful information, and—if she were really lucky—eventually, an arriving ship which she might be able to access once the crew had disembarked. Something told her that this was a highly optimistic scenario, but right now she didn’t see a path to anything more likely.

She had done her reconnaissance. She had a plan. Now, to see it through.

She splashed water on her face, and gave herself a determined look in the bathroom mirror. This was what she had been trained for.

A cautious look around the bathroom door confirmed that the stub corridor was clear. She edged towards the main corridor, listening carefully for the sound of footsteps.

“Hello, my dear.” A smiling older lady stepped into view, with a taller, hooded woman dressed in white stepping in behind her.

Kovac froze. Caught! They had obviously been expecting her. Knowing that there was no exit behind her, she briefly considered a dash past the two women—but no doubt they would have expected that, and have some contingency. The older woman didn’t seem to pose any particular threat, but the other was taller than Kovac, and her eyes were locked on to her prey.

She decided to temporize. “Who the hell are you?”

The older woman gave a pleasant laugh. “Oh, I’m sorry, how rude of me. I’m Emantheum, but most people just call me ‘Em’. Or, ‘Aunty Em’, if you like. What can I call you, my dear?”

Kovac hesitated briefly, but couldn’t think of a particular reason to lie right now. “Jelena.”

“I’m so pleased to meet you Jelena.” Em sounded sincere, to Kovac’s surprise. “We must have missed you in the original sweep, I’m so sorry.” She beamed. “But now, we can make up for lost time.”

That sounded ominous. Kovac took a step back. “What do you mean?” She kept a wary eye on the tall woman, who hadn’t spoken or moved yet, but who was clearly the main threat.

“Well, your fellow crew members have already started their training.” Em put on a pair of spectacles, reading from small data pad that she pulled from the pocket of her cardigan. “You’re about a day behind, but I’m sure we can catch you up.” She smiled at Kovac. “Right now, though, I’m not too busy. You’d be very welcome to join me in my quarters. I think we could have a lot of fun together, don’t you?”

This was getting too weird for Kovac. She wanted to ask what ‘training’ meant, but suspected that she wouldn’t like the answer. Alternatively, putting herself in the hands of this woman—who was undeniably friendly, but clearly had something strange going on—didn’t sound as if it would be any less risky.

She took another step backwards. “You know, I’m really grateful for the offer.” The lie did not sound at all convincing. “Maybe, though, the best thing is to just let me leave the station. You do your thing, and I’ll go do mine.”

She expected Em to object, but the woman looked thoughtful. “Well of course, it’s up to you, my dear.” She returned the data pad to her pocket. “This station’s not for everyone. It’s a shame we couldn’t play together, but I have to respect your choice.”

She gave a nod, and Kovac gasped as something smacked into the back of her neck. She turned to see another hooded woman at the end of the stub corridor, lowering what looked to be a dart gun.

“We’ll ship you over to Transit,” Em explained. “There are a lot more opportunities for you there.”

“Transit?” Kovac rubbed her neck, and felt something embedded in it. Wincing, she pulled out a small metal dart with a blue feather streamer, and stared at it. Her body started to tingle.

“Our nearest base to here,” Em explained. She turned to the woman behind her. “Amelie, my dear, could you please fetch a transit pod for Jelena?”

“I don’t want...” Kovac started to find it difficult to speak. Her knees wobbled, and she quickly collapsed to the floor. A strong pair of arms intercepted her from behind, and she looked up to find the second woman staring down at her, dark eyes impassive as she gently lowered Kovac to the ground.

“It’s a few days’ journey,” Em explained, kneeling by Kovac’s paralyzed body. “You’ll have a nice rest on the way there, and then I think I’ll recommend that you see my dear friend Dr Reyes. She’s been doing very interesting work, you know; I’m sure that you’ll enjoy your time with her.”

Kovac was now completely immobile, and unable even to twitch as the second woman systematically searched her, removing her toolkit and communicator badge, and then even her duty boots. All she could do was stare up at the ceiling, and silently curse herself for getting caught so easily.

Em scanned Kovac’s body with a small medical tricorder, and appeared satisfied with the results. “Excellent, my dear, you’re in very good health.” She patted Kovac’s immobile hand. “I think you’re going to have a lot of fun.”

The transport pod had clearly been pre-positioned, as it was only a matter of a couple of minutes before Kovac heard the trundling of a wheeled trolley. The two white-clad women carefully scooped her up, and laid her in the narrow ellipsoid pod. Ominously, there was no attempt to restrain her—they just started to apply electrodes to Kovac’s chest and temples.

Em leaned over the pod. “I hope you’re comfortable, my dear.” She gently stroked Kovac’s small breasts. “Such a shame that we couldn’t play together—but they say that as one door closes, another opens.”

The doors of the pod closed over Kovac, and she felt herself being pushed down the corridor. With no way to resist, or even react, she tried to control her fear—her thumping heartbeat felt as if it were so loud, anyone nearby should be able to hear it.

The pod arrived in a docking bay, and through the transparent lid Kovac could see a small transport ship parked inside. The transport had a number of elliptical holes in its hull, several of them already full, and Kovac swallowed nervously as her pod was pushed towards one of them.

The two women conferred briefly outside her pod, and one of them started to punch data into a keypad on the side of the pod.

“Sleep induction starting in three... two... one...”

Kovac felt the electrodes on her temples pulsing, and realized what was about to happen. Still paralyzed, she had no reaction as the electromagnetic waves systematically suppressed her consciousness, and darkness descended.