The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

There were two things I learned about Master PC. One, the program was like any other computer language. It would take your entries and interpret them literally, which explained the graphical interface that allowed a non-programmer to use it as well. If I didn’t know the proper term to use, it would try to interpret what I wanted and execute that. It took me several tries before I gave up and used the graphical interface to make my hair green again just to look over the code. I found out that not only did I use the wrong built in variables, but the program didn’t use names in the command box to describe colors. I couldn’t understand why someone would take the time to truly understand the inner mechanics of the program. It would take a long time since there weren’t any books printed on this particular language.

The second thing I learned about the program was that it was far more invasive than I thought. A user could manipulate specific cells, particular organs, or the entire body in minute detail. The number of variables for just a person’s lips topped somewhere around fifty. There was also the way the program altered associated body parts when using the graphical interface. The fact that my hair was green wasn’t the only thing changed. My hair follicles were altered to make my hair grow with that color. I also realized that the particular change affected only the hair on top of my head. If I grew a beard, it would be my normal brown. Using the help feature, I found out that certain things that could affect the entire body were split up into sections. Hair and skin were the only features I thought of but cells, bones and muscles were split up as well. The only component that wasn’t was blood. It almost made me sick to think what a person would do to their blood with that program.

After putting my hair back to normal, I started looking over the profiles for each of the girls. Other than certain ones being programmed to swallow me during sex, nothing had been changed. I also noticed that only a few of us had the code for sharing dreams. Everyone had been present the previous night, but Yvonne, Jeri, and the twins didn’t have the code. How could they have been present if they didn’t have the code? Was it me? Was I adopting those abilities and pulling them in? I systematically went through and deleted the sharing dreams code from all of us. If we still got together in our dreams that night, it would confirm my continuing growth of gifts.

Pulling up Renée’s profile, I found not only her genetic additions, but a vast amount of code detailing the changes she had implemented before her abilities kicked in. Most of it had to do with looks, but there were also details on health. She couldn’t contract a disease or virus. Her chances for what had to be every form of cancer were bottomed out. She would live a long healthy life, short of accidents. I copied that code and applied it to all the rest of us. It was a benefit everyone could use. No doctor’s visits for the flu, no concerns of tumors or cancer. To not have to worry about nature creeping up and killing us was good.

As I added that code to the others, I noticed one more detail. Each of them, and I verified that even Renée had it, had a three character code at the beginning of their command box, even the ones who didn’t have any commands at all. I pulled up my code and looked, but I didn’t have it. Was it because they were female? No, that couldn’t be. Why would women have additional genetic code that men didn’t have? For the most part, both genders are the same. It had to be because of me. Each of these women bore my mark, the amber streak that hovered over their chest. They each wanted and shared me willingly. It had to be that. I was encoding them. I was affecting them as if adding code to their profiles. Only the code I added couldn’t be deleted in the program. Just like the code Renée and I were apparently born with, it was not removable. It was too much. All the concern with how I affected them and that little bit of extra knowledge was too much.

Fortunately for my sanity, a knock at the door kept me from thinking any more on that last. My radio was playing a CD of Erin’s that I found with a mix of different artists, but it wasn’t the same one she had played the night we had dinner. Currently Christina Aguilera was singing “Come on Over”. I knew that I couldn’t feign not being home with the music beating away. I checked the time and found that two hours had passed since Renée and Erin left. Maybe there were other things they had to get. It was enough of an event when Renée took me to the mall the day before. I couldn’t imagine what that would be like with two of them.

I got up and answered the door, it was Yvonne. Her long straight brown hair was pulled back in a low pony tail. It pulled her hair tight, giving the illusion that she wore her hair short. Her deep blue eyes sparkled in the brightness of the Texas sun. Her lips were a lighter shade of red and her smile lit up her face. Just like seeing any of my other girls, it made me feel good right down to my toes. Taking in her outfit with a glance, she wore a pale blue tank top that made her look like she had more of a tan than she really did. The shirt was tucked into a while skirt that was tight around her waist but hung loose around her thighs. Her legs were as shapely as I remembered and simple sandals showed off her painted toes. The red on her toes matched her lips, and for some reason I wanted to kiss them just as much.

“Hi,” She said simply.

“Hello,” I replied.

I held out my hand and she took it. Her fingernails also held that same shade of light red. I couldn’t stop myself from kissing a couple of tips and then move up and kissed her knuckles. That good feeling intensified with our touch and I didn’t have to pull her any closer for our lips to make contact. It still disturbed me that I had linked with so many women, but that soft, fury feeling of rightness and goodness just made it so much easier to take. Much like adding sugar to a spoonful of medicine, I was being force fed the fluid, but the hand consistently made it sweet enough to swallow without too much complaint. We pulled from the kiss simultaneously. She looked as good as I felt.

Our greeting had moved inside, but the door was still open and two bags were on the porch. After another scorching kiss I pulled from her long enough to grab the bags, bring them in and close the Texas heat back out.

Yvonne looked at one of the bags, “I only brought the one bag. The other was sitting there when I arrived.”

I froze.

I didn’t like that someone was dropping off bags without notification. Anything could have been in it. It felt like it was heavy enough for clothes, but it didn’t move. I was pretty certain there wasn’t anything alive in it.

I set the bag down gently and handed Yvonne hers. “Take your bag and wait in the bedroom.” I started to point the way, but I thought of something else. “Do you have a phone?” She nodded. “Okay, watch from the doorway of the bedroom. If something happens, close the door and call 911.”

She nodded and backed away. I watched her until she was holding the door open enough to see through but not enough for anything to get through before she could slam it closed.

I moved the bag to the center of the main living area, half dining, half living. I wanted plenty of room to jump back if necessary. Everything else melted away and I was only aware of the bag. It was brown leather overnight bag with two short half-circle handles. It was big enough to carry any number of possible items, and I was about to find out what.

I opened the clasp with a gentle twist and then pulled the bag open slowly. If something was going to jump out, I wanted to be able to catch it. Hopefully. Nothing jumped out and it didn’t explode. Inside were a collection of leather collars with large metal d-rings very much like an owner would put on a large dog. I had pulled out nine of them and then found a note.

“In order to keep your subjects from wandering away, we have offered these collars. They also help to identify your subjects as yours. Each of us uses a different style and we weren’t sure if you had already decided on something specific. Consider them a gift. The Users.”

I checked the clock. We still had a few hours before the meeting. Either the users knew we had decided to attend or they were really arrogant. Probably both. I dropped the collars back in the bag and closed it up.

I felt Yvonne approaching. I didn’t want her seeing what was in the bag before I could explain what was going on.

“What was in the bag?” She asked softly.

“A gift, nothing dangerous.” I was still holding the note in my other hand and she reached for it. “Before you read this note, you need to know what’s going on.” The look on my face must have been more serious that I meant. She pulled back and seemed to withdraw a bit. “I’m not trying to scare you away, but the situation is serious.”

I turned and put the bag and note on the dining table. When I turned back to Yvonne, she was holding herself as if cold. There was the possibility that she was. I had the air cranked all the way up, but I didn’t think a native Russian would get cold that easily. I stepped up and reached for her. I thought she might pull from me but instead she pressed in against me. Whether it was for warmth or to just have me hold her, I wasn’t entirely sure. I could feel her fear, but at our touch it started to drain away.

I guided her over to the couch. We sat down and I turned her face to look into her eyes. I could feel that instinct to run. The basic fight or flight response all living creatures have. She wasn’t cornered and it wasn’t me threatening her, so she didn’t even know what she wanted to run from.

“I want to apologize to you. I was hoping to explain this before anything happened,” I offered.

Her eyes were large. She was getting scared again. I couldn’t have her be this skittish tonight. I used our link to calm her, to help her retain control. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and let it out slow and steady. “I’m okay.” She looked at me again and I knew she was. She probably couldn’t even tell that I had helped. It was going to be really difficult explaining everything, especially our link.

“When I met you yesterday, some really... different things were going on.” I wanted to say “weird” but she might have taken back from that. “You know how good it was to touch me when I opened the door?” She nodded. “It’s the same for me. It feels good, but think back. Think of other guys you used to date. Did it feel good, physically, to just touch?”

She looked down, thinking about other instances where touching someone had happened. I could tell she was because our link allowed me to see the flow of memories. She looked up shaking her head, “I don’t ever remember having felt good like that. What is it?”

“Me. I have gifts or a curse, whichever you want to call it. It allows me to make those I’ve... been with to feel good with just my touch.” I knew that my explanation was way too vague. She was going to need some detail to truly understand what I was saying. Then again, I could just share my memories of what happened to me. It would speed things along and then she could ask questions. I took her hands in mine. “I can also share memories. It would allow you to understand what’s going on far better than me trying to tell you with words.”

She looked apprehensive, but nodded.

“This won’t hurt at all.” I said just before I poured all my recent memories into her. Like every other time, in the blink of an eye it was over.

Yvonne had closed her eyes. I could see the movement of her eyes under her lids. She was going through them like she did this everyday. When she looked up, her face was solemn but not scared. “You have been through a lot over the last couple of days. Having women throw themselves at you when they ignored you before, physically growing in ways that have nothing to do with natural development, forging links with the women you bed, and taking on the task of keeping us safe from these would-be abductors.” She reached up and held the side of my face as she searched my eyes. I could feel her looking me over through the link just as I had done with her. “You are stressed from so much change, but you must not blame yourself for what has happened. I understand that the program has changed you through your parents and that these wonderful feelings that we share may be artificial, but we cannot change that. We must endure. Not just you. All of us, your women, must support you just as you keep us safe.” She shook her head much like a mother would with a child learning a hard lesson. “You are not alone. We will stand with you.” She looked over at the bag on the table, “But I will not wear a collar.” She looked back at me, a single edge of her lips curled in a half-grin. “Unless you like that sort of thing?”

She already knew the answer to that, but it was the beginning of my understanding of her. She liked to do things in bed that the others didn’t consider. I didn’t want the girls wearing collars to denote them as being mine. They already bore marks of their binding with me. Even Yvonne had the amber streak down the middle of her chest. It was a mark of binding, and I knew it was part of my charm that not only made the marks but allowed me to see them. To some degree, the collars weren’t a far cry from those light-less, shadow-less marks all of us bore. The only difference was everyone would be able to see the collars.

I had been looking at the mark on Yvonne’s chest when I saw her arm move to support her breasts. She was drawing them up to give me a better view in the low cut tank top. I looked up but wasn’t embarrassed.

The smile on her face made it clear that she didn’t mind. I didn’t think explaining the mark would have justified the long look I had given her chest. She took it as it had looked, like I was drawn to her womanly charm. She knew that I had a weakness for cleavage, and she wanted that weakness to move us to something more. I could feel the soft flame of her lust. It was a far cry from the inferno that raged in Chloe, but it was still the same. She was feeling the heat of a need that the program manufactured in her. She couldn’t really tell that it wasn’t her own desires, but it made no difference. She was in the mood and I was the one she was in the mood for.

I smiled. “Did you bring your outfit and stuff for tonight?” She nodded. “Then how about a shower before everyone else starts showing up and the bathroom becomes too crowded?”

She took hold of my hand and stood. A slight tug and I was on my feet. I didn’t suggest a cold shower as I would have taken, so she was taking it as an offer for some physical loving. The visual of her body glistening wet from the warm flow of water was enough to get my blood flowing.