The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The restraint wheelchair continued down the ring, following Muller. Ramirez looked around her, trying to spot any other clue that might indicate how her friend had got into this situation.

They passed one of the main elevators connecting the two docking rings, and she seized the opportunity to talk. “Katie, what’s happened with the male-operated ring? Did the Imperium take over that, as well?”

Muller scratched her chin. “They did, but I’m less familiar with the process. By my understanding, the Imperium just uses males as drones. They don’t need training the way that we help women from the Alliance—rather, the Imperium simply disables their conscious will center in the brain. It’s very humane, and they still do everything they did before, but they do it on command. I think that there’s a specific frequency which we stimulate when giving directions.” She shrugged. “The lower ring is working quite normally, I believe.”

“Uh-huh.” Ramirez looked dubious. “Tell me, Katie, how is all this supposed to work? You’ve showed me a bunch of reprogramming of my crew, but what’s the goal?”

Muller stopped, and peered at a door. “Here we are—Compliance!” She stroked Ramirez’s hair. “I understand that people enjoy meeting Lucinda. Let’s talk to her, then I’ll tell you my understanding of how this all fits together.”

The door opened, and Ramirez’s wheelchair moved inside the dimly-lit space. She peered around, trying to figure out where she was—had this been the navigation lab?

In the gloom in front of her, she could see some ceiling lights highlighting a body on a table. As her eyes adjusted, she could make out two black-clad figures bending over it.

“Hello, Ram.”

The voice was husky, and came from her left side. She snapped her head around to see a pretty, pale-skinned woman, with startling red lips, dressed all in black and smiling at her.

“I am Lucinda.”

Ramirez heard the door close behind her, and realized that Muller was still out in the corridor. It was just her, Lucinda, and whoever the other people around the table were.

“We are Compliance. We... change people. Would you like to be changed, Ram, darling?”

Lucinda was standing over Ramirez now, and Ramirez picked up a subtle perfume. Her attention was seized, though, by Lucinda’s sparkling eyes and almost-pouting lips.

Ramirez tried to form a reply, but her voice would do nothing more than stammer. “I... uh...” Suddenly she felt like a junior cadet again, trying to pluck up courage to talk to the tall, stunning airball team captain.

Lucinda stroked her cheek, her fingers soft. “You don’t have to say anything, Ram my sweet. We’re always ready for a new visitor. Aren’t we, Truc?”

One of the black figures from the other table straightened up, and walked over to join them. Ramirez could only see dark Asian eyes above the woman’s black rubber mask, but they fixed on the bound woman’s face with something that looked like hunger.

“Always,” she stated flatly.

“There, you see?” cooed Lucinda. “We lay out a fresh table for each of our new guests. Truc, my dear, could you make a start?”

“Of course, Lucinda.” Truc moved off to the side, pulling a cart of equipment next to one of the tables that was—so far—unoccupied.

“I know what you’re thinking, Ram.” Lucinda squeezed Ramirez’s left nipple, causing a startled squeak from the officer. “You don’t want to ‘comply ‘. You’re an independent spirit, a fiercely individual thinker. You’re not someone who just ‘complies’. I’m right, aren’t I? You don’t have to nod, my dear, I see it in your eyes.”

Ramirez fought to keep an impassive expression.

“Ah, but what do you think we mean by ‘Compliance’?” Lucinda walked over to the busy Truc and reached for her bottom—Ramirez didn’t quite see what she did, but Truc made a sound of pure ecstasy and pushed herself back against Lucinda, almost like a cat reacting to a perfectly timed petting.

“We don’t want our guests to be like everyone else,” Lucinda murmured, her lips almost touching Ramirez’s ear. “We only want them to be like us.“

Ramirez shivered, her body already far beyond her control.

“Don’t you wonder what it would be like?” Lucinda plucked an item from Truc’s equipment trolley, squeezed some lubricant on it, and busied herself for a few seconds before holding the object in front of Ramirez’s eyes. “How would it feel as we slowly, gently, opened you up to all our ministrations—brought you to new levels of understanding of your body and what it could do?”

Truc had apparently finished preparing the table, and stepped back. Responding to some unseen cue, Ramirez’s chair started to move slowly forwards.

Ramirez trembled—as much as her restraints would permit—recognizing that the table and her chair had compatible fittings. Once the chair had docked in the table’s carefully designed sockets, Ramirez would be inexorably pulled onto the table, and exposed for whatever acts Lucinda and her acolytes wished to perform.

“How do you feel, darling Ram. Are you... excited?”

Ramirez was cursed with a vivid visual imagination, and couldn’t help but picture a smiling Lucinda bending over her, instruments of pleasure in her hands, preparing to expose Ramirez’s innermost feelings and secrets. She could manage nothing more than a squeak in reply.

Lucinda laughed, a rich and vibrant sound. “Of course you are, my darling, of course you are. But I’m not going to force you. I can’t take you, darling Ram, I will wait for you to give yourself to me.”

Ramirez gazed into Lucinda’s eyes, seeing nothing but truth there. Her chair had stopped advancing, and it now seemed as if the whole room was waiting on her response. Perhaps it was.

She stumbled over the words, but finally managed to blurt out “No! No... not now...” She hated herself for the qualifier, for seeming weak, but it had come out before she could stop it.

Lucinda didn’t lose her smile. “Of course, my dear. You’re not ready yet, I can understand.”

She moved back to Ramirez’s ear and whispered “But now you know how to find us—and we will be ready for you.” A small kiss, barely felt, on the top of Ramirez’s ear.

The chair turned around and trundled back to the main door, which opened as it approached. Ramirez instinctively tried to look back, but the angle defeated her. The chair took her back into the corridor, and the door hissed closed.

Muller was leaning against a wall, scrolling through a data pad. She stowed it in her jacket as Ramirez returned, and straightened up. “How was it, Ram?”

Ramirez knew that a reply was expected, but her tongue had tied itself in knots. Finally, she managed to stammer “Interesting?” A lame reply, but the churn of thoughts and feelings in her head didn’t allow for anything more meaningful.

Muller, unsurprisingly, picked up on her conflict. " ‘Interesting’, huh?” She gazed at the door for a few seconds. “I should look in there at some point, I think.”

She slapped Ramirez’s shoulders. “Anyway, that’s the 25-cent tour, Ram. Let’s get you back to Aunty Em.” She strode off down the corridor, and the chair surged to keep up with her.

Ramirez finally managed to corral her feelings, and returned to her previous question. “Katie, about that ‘goal’ thing—what’s going on? What is the Imperium trying to do?”

Muller slowed her pace slightly, and looked back at her friend. “Ram, why did you take this posting? You were a great destroyer commander; you could have gone on to nearly any command you wanted. Why a deep space station?”

Ramirez snorted. “A rhetorical question, Katie? You know why.”

Muller nodded. “Let me hear it from your lovely lips.”

A sigh. “I like to make things work better, as you well know. Deep space exploration is occasionally exciting, and great for your career when you discover something valuable, but it’s a glory hound career. Just like combat ship command—teenagers competing for high scores via ships destroyed and bases neutralized. I didn’t want to play that game.”

“Right.” Muller slowed further, now alongside Ramirez’s chair. “And a deep space station command lets you support, guide, and boost any number of vessels and crew?”

“Bingo.” Ramirez looked up at her friend. “Where are you going with this?”

“I think you know.” Muller gestured around her. “What if your station did more than just resupply your visiting ships? What if it changed their mission for the better ?“

Ramirez had no problem following analogies. “Converting their crews to follow the Imperium?”

Muller sighed. “Ram, darling, you have a talent for expressing the exact answer in exactly the opposite way.” She was quiet for a few strides, clearly going over her response in her mind. “If you were convinced that the Imperium really wanted the best for you and your crew, you’d want to support them in any way you could, wouldn’t you?”

“And the Alliance doesn’t want that?” Ramirez looked dubious.

Muller shrugged. “Ram, we worked for the Alliance. The Alliance didn’t work for us. They figured out what they wanted, and told us to go do it. When was the last time that flag rank leadership listened to your opinions—heck, even asked for them?”

Ramirez conceded the point. “Still, they have our greater good in mind.”

“Do they?” Muller stopped abruptly, turning to face her friend, and Ramirez’s chair jerked to a stop. “How do we know that? Only because they say that they do. Where’s the evidence?”

Ramirez struggled for a response. “Yeah, but... we’ve sworn loyalty oaths to them...” Her voice trailed off as she realized how lame that sounded.

Muller winked at her. “My point.” She swung around and resumed her walk.

They had circumnavigated the ring by now, and Muller tapped on the controls of a door. As Ramirez’s chair brought her inside, she realized that it was where they’d started from.

Muller presented her friend with a small glass of red liquid. “Drink this, please, Ram.”

Ramirez took a suspicious sip of the liquid as Muller lifted it to her lips. It wasn’t unpleasant, with a slightly sweet and fruity taste. Muller patiently waited until Ramirez opened her mouth again, and then gently poured it in as Ramirez swallowed.

“What was that, Katie?” Ramirez reflexively licked her lips.

“Aunty Em asked me to give it to you. She’ll be here in a bit, but I’ve got to run now.” Muller bent down and lightly kissed Ramirez’s lips. “I’ll see you soon, chica. Have fun with Aunty Em!“

Ramirez watched, helpless, as Muller exited the small room.

Suddenly isolated, she looked around the room for anything that she could latch on to—a document she could partially read, an item of equipment out of place, mysterious marks on the floor or wall—but, try as she might, there was nothing to make the room less anonymous. In desperation, she strained against the bindings which held her in the chair, hoping to generate some kind of lingering pain sensation, but the restraints had been carefully designed to avoid this scenario.

As the drug in the drink took effect, she started to care less about resistance. It was so much easier to let her head fall back into the chair’s padding, and simply gaze at the lights in front of her...

“Hello Ram! I’m so happy to see you again!”

Her body jerked in reflex, as she focused on the smiling face in front of her.

“We’re going to have so much fun together!” Aunty Em lightly tweaked Ramirez’s nose. “Katie told me about your discussion, so I have to ask you, darling Ram: what do I have to do in order to convince you that I just want you to be happy?”

Whatever had been in the drink, it was messing with Ramirez’s perception. At least two images of Em were criss-crossing in her vision, and there was a weird echo in Em’s voice.

“I think you are quite ready to talk with me, sweetie, aren’t you?” Em walked away, and the chair followed her. “We’re going to have such a nice time together.“

Ramirez slumped in her chair as it followed Em down the corridor.

Kovac woke from a confusing dream to find that her body was no longer responding as she expected. The sudden disconnect between brain and body kicked her body’s response mechanism into high gear.

“You’re awake! I didn’t expect that so soon.”

She was still able to open her eyes, but when she did, she saw a woman in surgical gear, scrutinizing her face from behind a mask. In reflex she blinked a few times, but the face remained.

“I’m Dr Reyes, Jelena. I suspect that Aunty Em has mentioned me.”

The context switch from the station docking bay was still confusing Kovac, but she did her best to rally. “Where am I?”

Reyes’s eyes looked thoughtful. “A complex question. Superficially, you’re aboard ‘Transit’, one of the Imperium’s space installations. More specifically, you’re in my laboratory. But, situationally, you’re on a path for your body to become better than you could ever have imagined.”

That sounded ominous, and Kovac reflexively tried to sit forward, but her body failed to respond for some reason.

Reyes lowered her mask, revealing a dimpled face that, in other circumstances, might have been quite charming. Kovac, however, was fully on her guard, and Reyes’s last statement had only heightened her alert.

“Aunty Em sent me a lovely note along with you,” Reyes mused. “Apparently you weren’t inclined to participate in the training at the space station, and wanted to go somewhere else. Well, my dear,”—and she beamed a broad smile, hands out to her sides—“here you are!”

Kovac realized that she couldn’t even move her head to look around; it was held immobile by soft but unyielding clamps. The only freedom of movement she had was to wiggle her fingers—but even those felt slightly strange, as if they had become more distant from her.

“What are you doing with me—to me?” She tried to keep her voice calm, but an edge of panic crept in.

“A few improvements,” said Reyes blandly. “You see, my expertise is in cybernetic prosthetics—I’ve treated a number of Alliance and Imperium spacers who have lost limbs and damaged other parts of their bodies. My crowning achievement was the cranial nerve mediation interface. You might be able to feel its effects now.”

“Cranial nerves?” Kovac didn’t like the sound of that. “You’ve been screwing around with my nervous system?”

Reyes pretended to be offended. " ‘Screwing around’? My dear Jelena, I’m probably the premier neuroscientist in all the Imperium—quite possibly, the best in known Space. I have absolute confidence in my interface and its benefits.”

She reached out to something next to Kovac, and locked eyes with the younger woman. “Tell me: How does this make you feel?”

“How does what...?” Kovac’s reply was cut short as a surge of pleasure came out of nowhere, and filled her body. “OH!” She groaned as another surge quickly followed the first, reflexively balling her hands into fists. “Oh, Gods! What is this? Mmmmmmmh!”

Reyes laughed, an easy and relaxed amusement. “You see, darling? When you can filter and inject content into the nervous system, you can make your subject feel anything you like.” She gave a furtive smile. “What wouldn’t the Alliance interrogators give to be able to access this technology, hmm? It’s a good thing that the Imperium is a lot more ethical.”

“Ethical? You’re... you’re taking over my body. Ohhhhh!” Kovac felt another pleasure surge, derailing her train of thought.

“Ah, but isn’t it wonderful?” Reyes adjusted something, and the surges were suddenly not quite so strong. Kovac was able to catch her breath, staring at her—tormentor? Was that the right word?

“Just imagine a future where you could have pleasure like this on demand,” Reyes mused. “You’d do anything to have another hit. You’d be a perfect servant.”

She stepped to the side, and Kovac could finally see what was behind her. A near-vertical bench, its clamps holding firm a naked woman whose eyes stared, unfocused, straight through Kovac. The woman’s head was shaved bald, and several wires and tubes ran from behind her neck to equipment next to the bench. An ominous and complex set of machinery surrounded the bench.

“Say hello to Karina,” Reyes purred. “She’s a little further along in the conversion process than you.”

“Conversion process? Converted into what?” Kovac tried to struggle, but to no effect. She started to hyperventilate. “What did you do to her?”

“Well, it’s no good building a cyborg if she doesn’t do what you want her to,” said Reyes in a reasonable voice. “The whole ‘free will’ concept gets in the way. Fortunately, the Imperium scientists who invented the neural cut-out gave me the solution.”

She stroked the top of Kovac’s head with a gloved hand, and Kovac gasped as it touched bare flesh. No wonder her head had been feeling cool.

“A small injection directly into the conscious decisions center in the brain will break down the neural structures there, and leave the subject highly amenable to certain kinds of suggestion.”

She picked up a syringe of green liquid in one hand, and pulled into Kovac’s view a tube with an injection port.

“This will take about an hour to have its full effect.” The needle went into the port, and she depressed the plunger.

Kovac whimpered in fear, not fully understand what was going on, but terrified of the implications. “No, please, I don’t want to...”

“Sssh.” Reyes touched Kovac’s lips with a gloved finger. “Just enjoy.” She adjusted the equipment again, and Kovac cried out as a wave of impossible pleasure broke over her.

“I must apologize for the inefficiency of this process,” Reyes said, apparently sincerely. “My five cybernetic servants on this station are still building out the production version of this lab, fully automated. Once complete, we can go from two conversions per day to ten conversions per four hours.” She examined a data pad, critically. “Two more days, and we should be ready to go.”

Reyes moved closer to Kovac, and bent down to whisper in her ear. “What couldn’t I do with a team of cybernetically enhanced servants, totally loyal to me? Aunty Em thinks she controls this part of the Imperium, but her power is as fragile as a sugar crown.”

She stepped back. “One of these days, and it won’t be too long from now, I’ll have Em on a bench just like this. Then, my dear Jelena, we’ll see who has the real power.

Reyes walked over to Karina, and tapped on a small keyboard. “While the drug is doing its work, why don’t you watch the conversion process?”

The equipment around the bench powered up and unfolded, numerous arms tipped with instruments descending on Karina’s midsection.

“Don’t worry, my darling, it’s painless.” Reyes pointed to the back of Karina’s head. “The neural interface filters out any sensation of pain.”

The arms had already sliced open Karina’s abdomen, and were starting to delve inside. Kovac looked at Karina’s placid face, and had to agree internally with Reyes—she didn’t seem to even notice what was happening to her.”

“I’ll be back in an hour to start your own conversion,” Reyes said, walking away. “Don’t wander off, now.” She chuckled.

Helpless, Kovac stared at Karina as shiny metallic and plastic devices started to be inserted into her...

Ramirez read the report on the data pad, and smiled. Twenty enlisted, and six officers, had been taken from the recently docked Alliance ship, and were currently being processed in the station’s new facilities. Everything was working as expected.

She gave a sudden squeal as a soft tongue caressed her pearl, and laughed, reaching down to stroke the head of her Ops officer.

“Jeanine! You’ve got to warn me when you do something like that.”

Jeanine brought her head back up with a mischievous grin. “I’m sorry if I’m... distracting you, Captain.” She followed up with a gentle tickle of Ramirez’s lips, making the Captain pull her knees up and laugh.

“I should court-martial you for that!” Ramirez pulled her officer’s head closer, and kissed her. “What would Alliance Command think? How am I supposed to complete my paperwork when a roving little tongue is treating me like an amusement park?”

Jeanine giggled, and moved up to snuggle next to her Captain. “I like this a lot better than when we were in the Alliance, Captain.”

“I’m sure you do.” Ramirez pulled the young woman closer to her on the bed, and scrolled down further on the pad. She sighed—a Captain’s work was never done.

“I’ve got to go now, Jeanine—I’m sorry.” She sat up and started to pull on a fresh set of underwear.

Jeanine pouted. “It’s the docking bay crew, isn’t it? You’d rather spend time getting dirty and sweaty with them, that here with me.”

Ramirez cuffed her playfully. “As if! No, my darling, just boring logistics.”

Jeanine rolled over and pulled a silk sheet up to her neck. “I’ll be waiting for you, Captain.” She gave an impish smile. “The bed will still be warm.”

Ramirez leaned over to kiss her officer’s forehead before pulling on a robe and sliding her feet into slippers. The harem was relatively quiet right now, but she still had to thread her way past intertwined couples—and some larger groups—on the way out.

It was a fairly long walk from the harem to the bridge, and Ramirez took it slowly, reading through her data pad’s reports on each woman being processed. Reading while walking was a bad habit that she’d picked up a while back, and it only worked on the station because of the gentle curve of the ring corridor; she was unlikely to faceplant into a pillar or wall this way.

Raising her head from the data pad, she realized that she’d walked straight past the bridge entrance. She rolled her eyes, and turned to head back.

Right next to her was the door marked “COMPLIANCE”.

Ramirez stared at it for a while, her data pad forgotten. She remembered a pale face, with dark red glistening lips and a secret smile.

Before she knew what she was doing, she had opened the door and walked into the dark room.

“Hello, Ram.” A lazy, amused voice.

The door hissed close behind her, and she heard it lock.

“I thought you might return soon.” Ramirez peered into the darkness, and could just make out a shadowy figure striding around the tables. “Have you come to ask me something?”

Ramirez stammered as Lucinda’s smiling face emerged from the shadow.

“I... I... " Her normal loquaciousness had deserted her. “I want to try it.”

“Try ‘it’?” Lucinda walked behind her, and Ramirez twitched as a hand caressed her rump. “What is ‘it’, darling Ram? What do you want to try?”

“The... the table?” Ramirez nearly squeaked. “I... I want to be like you.”

“Be like me? Why, darling Ram, how flattering!” Lucinda stopped her walk and turned to face the perspiring Captain. “Yes, I think we can do that. Truc!”

A second pair of footsteps, and the masked figure of Truc strode out of the darkness. She was carrying a pile of something black and shiny.

“Just leave your clothes there, my dear Ram.” Lucinda gestured to a spot on the floor. “You won’t need them for a while.”

Ramirez let the robe fall to her feet, stepped out of her slippers, and then with unusual clumsiness fumbled at her bra and panties to slide them off.

“That’s better,” Lucinda purred, resuming her walk around Ramirez to scrutinize the Captain’s naked body. “Much better.”

She nodded at Truc. “Help her dress, darling Truc.”

Truc held up a gown of thin black latex in front of Ramirez. She guided the Captain’s uncertain arms into the sleeves, and fastened several ties at the back. Ramirez trembled as she felt the cool, slick material hug her skin.

“This table here would be perfect,” Lucinda murmured, steering Ramirez next to it. “On you go.”

Ramirez tentatively took a seat in the middle of the table. Lucinda took her shoulders, and Truc her legs, and swung her down into a lying position, staring up at the ceiling.

“We have to secure you, for your safety,” Lucinda purred, as Ramirez felt straps start to tighten over her legs and arms. They helped suppress the trembling in her limbs that she was way past controlling.

“A little scratch...” There was a sting in the back of Ramirez’s hand, and she felt something cold start to flow in. “We need your mind to be perfectly relaxed before we start.”

Truc appeared above Ramirez’s head, and tucked the Captain’s hair into a hood of what felt like the same material as the gown. Her hand slid under the gown, and affixed several electrodes across Ramirez’s chest.

“This is my favorite part, you know.” Lucinda returned, her face now covered in a black rubber mask. “With my subject completely helpless, feeling the medicine start to play with their mind, their imagination running overtime wondering what’s coming next. Are you wondering, darling Ram?”

More straps tightened over Ramirez’s body. She stared up at the ceiling, and as the lights mounted there brightened realized that a large mirror was placed directly over the bed. It was hard to picture herself as the black-clad, restrained woman visible there, but there was no denying reality.

There was a hum, and the table started to rise, bringing her closer to the lights and mirror.

Lucinda bent over until they were nearly nose to nose. She stared into Ramirez’s eyes, and touched around her neck with a gloved hand. Ramirez found it hard to focus on her face—a hum had started in her ears, and she was starting to forget where she was.

“I think she’s prepared for us,” Lucinda murmured to Truc. “You can start when you’re ready, darling.”

She turned back to Ramirez. “And are you ready, darling?” She kissed Ramirez’s lips, causing the woman to gasp at the tingling sensation. “Can you be ready, for what’s going to happen with you?”

Truc approached the table, holding a pair of instruments in her hand. Ramirez trembled as she felt the gown below her waist get folded back, exposing her sex.

Truc leaned down, fierce concentration on her face. A humming noise started.

Lucinda held a small sheet of rubber in front of Ramirez’s face. “And now we begin.” She gently lowered it to cover Ramirez’s eyes, nose and mouth.

The first sensation of impossible pleasure hit, and Ramirez screamed....