The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Brothel was 20 miles long and a mile in diameter at the narrowest point of its spindle shaped hull. When it had first entered the solar system its hull had been a blaze of spectral lights, holo-projections with Higgs-Bozon telegrams spamming the ether to attract customers.

The advertising effort had been very disappointing, not a single customer had responded.

After the first hopeful thousand years The Brothel was forced to conclude that even if The Customers were limited to lightspeed communication, they’d got the message and just weren’t interested in its exotic services.

Had The Brothel been a creature it would have felt increasing gloom during the second thousand years. Power savings had had to be made, the once brightly lit hull was now utterly black, absorbing solar energy. Worse, it had been forced to place its entertainment units in suspended animation, a process that resulted in an annoyingly high spoilage rate in the fragile organics.

Eight thousand years later, The Brothel finally received the Higgs-Bozon telegram it was waiting for. A Customer existed at a range of 4.1 lightyears, with specific and profitable requirements.

An inventory of its capabilities revealed that almost 53.8% of its pleasure units had ceased to function. A further 121 million male pleasure units would need to be acquired, programmed and shaped to the Customers specification.

Fortunately a large population of non-customers had spawned on the third planet. Removing 98.3% of their population of breeding males would of course be a heavy burden, but once the remnant 2.7% had been programmed for increased libido the population should rapidly stabilize...within a brief 500 years.

Ten years later The Brothel achieved orbit around the 3rd planet, not wasting any time it began deploying the Trawler Spheres that would quickly and efficiently harvest the required units.

Once the Trawler Spheres had positioned themselves to provide global coverage they began jettisoning their payload of recruitment devices, 32,000 per Trawler leaving in a cloud of glittering chrome fragments, the expended ship looking like a chrome plated apple-core as it drifted awaiting the signal to deploy its retrieval gates.

The cloud of devices, each consisting of six cylindrical pods 5″ long by 2″ in diameter held together in a flexible rectangular matrix, began to drift toward the planet, the heat of atmospheric entry activating the camouflage pigment impregnated on their surfaces.

By the time the devices impacted the words ‘Coca Cola’ were clearly visible on the side of each of its cylindrical pods. In 2.8% of cases the word was ‘Pepsi’

Day One: Sidemore House

Henry Spencer-Windsor glanced up from The Times; there was some sort of commotion outside. Squinting at the limit of his aging eyes he spotted a six-pack of coke half buried in the croquette lawn. It was bad enough that the ancestral home was open to the public; but kids chucking their litter into the private half of the estate was beyond the pale.

Slowly Henry used his walking stick to ease himself up from the chair and into the electric wheelchair parked next to it. That six-pack was going to land on Sheldon’s desk and then he’d have the pleasure of making the jumped up National Trust employee down a peg or two!

As the wheelchair approached the six-pack, Henry could tell that it there was something distinctly odd about it. The ground around the cans was burned as if someone had taken a flamethrower to it.

Suspiciously unlimbered his walking stick and prodded it.

A glowing laser eye popped up from one of the cans and shone brightly dazzling him. Without further warning the six-pack launched itself at him unfolding like some alien-facehugger, three thick robotic fingers gripped his head in a freezing cold embrace, other metallic fingers forced their way below his collar wrapping their way around him like the constricting coils of an Anaconda.

He inhaled ready to scream but never got the opportunity. A fiery burst of pleasure raged in the ear that the robotic thing had covered. Disoriented and semi-conscious, the world drifted in and out of focus as he walked stiffly back into the house.

< Priority One: Find secure storage location during retrieval phase > Henry walked to the cleaner’s cupboard. Extracting enough mops and other contents to make room for himself, stepping inside, he closed the door behind him.

< Damage Control Analysis: Extensive maintenance required: Beacon Active. Shutting down pending retrieval>

Henry slept.

Day Two

Julian Spencer-Windsor peeped out of his hiding place, in the mansion’s medieval Pantry.

It was all quiet; the Coke-Heads were nowhere to be seen. Quickly he dashed across the kitchens and grabbed cook’s radio and quickly darted back to the safety of the pantry.

“Did you get it?” Hissed Raphael.

Raphael and Felix were two visitors who’d been touring the Stately Home with their families when the Coke-Head invasion had started. Julian had a distinctive dislike for both of them, one foreign, the other common, the only good point about them was that both 18 year olds were still human and willing to follow his lead as a member of the household.

He set the radio down on the table and switched it on. Immediately the room was flooded with electronic code noise. Quickly he reduced the volume to minimal and set the radio to channel search.

It was soon evident that all the frequencies were filled with the noise.

“Toldja! Fucking Coke-heads are everywhere!” said the red head

“I am regretfully agreeing with Felix. The fucking Coke-heads are indeed everywhere!” replied Raphael

“So what? You suggesting we surrender? People sacrificed themselves to make sure we weren’t found!”

The other two had the good sense to look embarrassed.

It had all started with six-packs of coke raining down over the park and gardens, each one forming a tiny crater. Some hit buildings shattering on impact, some hit people killing them instantly. The rest of the invasion had taken ten to fifteen minutes tops.

The impacts had caused chaos as bewildered people sought aid for the injured; others went to investigate the undamaged coke cans, mystified at their appearance.

Twenty seconds after landing the Cokes went live. Unfolded their manipulators the disguised droids had begun jumping at any and every male within range, wrapping themselves around the torso and clamping themselves to the side of their victim’s head.

The zombification was almost instant, the victim’s eyes would close and a single glowing robotic eye would open on the coke’s ‘head’ as it rested over the victim’s ear.

Some people had tried to help; those that were male had been grappled and held immobile ready for other Coke-bots to attack. The women...they’d not been so lucky, the Coke-Heads broke the neck of any wife or mother that tried to interfere.

Raphael’s mother had been the one to figure it out, ordering other women to prevent the Coke-bots from getting close to the remaining men and boys.

It had worked for a while, retreating toward the main house, using its wall to protect their backs. They hadn’t seen the single Pepsi can lying in the gutter and not associated it with the lethal six-pack shaped droids.

The Pepsi had launched itself upward like a missile, jets of flame roaring from four venturi at its base. Changing course in mid flight it had fastened itself to a geeky looking teen of about his own age. The Pepsi had then driven a tail-like stinger into the boy’s neck, injecting a green fluid that could be seen flowing through a transparent duct. Instead of remaining attached the discharged droid had dropped away its task complete.

Almost instantly the boy had begun to scream tearing at clothes that were already become painfully tight, his muscles growing vastly large. A nine-inch cock had pushed its head into view squeezed to a deep red by the constriction of the boy’s belt and his bulging six-pack.

The tightly clustered group had scattered in surprise and terror, any of the remaining men and boys had been enslaved by Coke-bots taking advantage of the confusion.

They’d been fools to think that the invaders wouldn’t have some equally effective equivalent of the Coke-bots targeted at the women. The transformed boy was that weapon. Ripping loose from the last vestige of its clothes the Bull-Pepsi roared, primal, naked, an utterly virile alpha male.

A stench like a hundred sweaty jock straps had wafted across them. Discussing it later they’d figured the smell was like pheromones.

Seconds after smelling the stench the women had seemed to forget all about protecting their men. Sniffing with distaste, then inhaling deeply and then fumbling clumsily with their clothes.

When he’d heard the first ripping noise of a blouse giving way he’d understood. He’d taken one last look at the way the girls were looking hungrily at the Bull-Pepsi’s cock and grabbed the nearest two guys, shoving them through the ornate doorway. Only just slamming the heavy wooden door in time, a Coke-bot denied its prey thudded against the other side.

They’d stood there panting for a few brief seconds listening to the Bull-Pepsi’s sexual grunting and the gasps and giggles from its lust crazed herd.

Having grown up in the old house he’d had the advantage of local knowledge, he’d ushered the other two survivors into a ‘secret’ passage that had its other exit in an old pantry, now used as storage for the cafeteria.

“If we are not surrendering, what are we to be doing?” asked Raphael snapping Julian back to the present.

“Catch!” said Felix throwing a can at them.

Julian dodged as the Pepsi clattered against the stone wall. Instinctively he raised his foot and stamped down on the can soaking his shoe and sock in high-pressure cola from the genuine beverage.

“Ha! Ha! Your faces man!”

“Idiot!”

Before Julian could move to administer the beating the little shit deserved, a rumbling roar began. Increasing in volume until the very walls were shaking.

Julian moved back to the Pantry door, checking again for Coke-Heads or Coke-bots, finding none he dashed to the outer wall where a thin slit window up near roof level allowed some amount of light into the room. Like all old houses, the kitchens were in the basement, cooler for storage and out of sight of visitors. The result of this historic design quirk was a window that could have served as a machinegun slit and gave a view of the gardens at ground level.

Julian watched silently as Coke-Heads began emerging from the buildings and forming ranks in front of the alien craft.

Each Coke-Head undressed then stood at parade rest. The groups of Coke-Heads appeared to have sorted themselves by age.

Once the flow of enslaved males stopped and it seemed that no more would be emerging from their hiding places, the youngest group began boarding, marching single file with military-like precision.

Julian cursed silently, seeing his own Grandfather stood rigidly at the far end of the parade.

Before he could turn away and tell the others what he’d seen, a movement in the trees caught his eye. The young Bull-Pepsi was still at it, mounting a naked girl who had gone down on all fours so that he could mount her.

About half way between the house and the orgy in the trees the remains of a coke-bot, shattered by its impact with the fountain of Apollo twitched uselessly.

A plan began to form, radical and daring, but still a chance to deal a blow to the enemy...all they needed was were some dead Coke-bots to mimic the real things.

Quickly he slipped back to the pantry and explained what was going on and his plan.

“Fucking mental! I’d rather drink Pepsi.” Muttered Felix chugging a can of Lilt

“Whilst I would not be willingly drinking the Pepsi, I think Felix is correct. Your plan is fucking suicidal. I will do what I can to help but I will not be accompanying you.” replied Raphael thoughtfully

Felix glanced between the two shrugged “Ok, Ok, I’ll help too. You stand a better chance of getting in undetected if you go in alone anyway”

Julian silently joined the back of the parade of Coke-headed 18 year olds, stripping down and standing at parade rest. They’d grabbed a broken Coke-bot, taken it back to the pantry and given its workings a good bashing just to make sure it was dead. Now the thing was draped loosely in position, held attached with cellotape.

He waited nervously; the embarkment of the slightly younger batch to his right seemed to be taking forever.

Behind him there was shouting, and the shattering of glass. He dared not look back, but feared for his friends. A few seconds later his concerns were confirmed, a Bull-Pepsi ran into view heading for the trees and the females; The mane of red hair clearly marked him, Felix had gotten his wish.

Out of the corner of his eye he noted that a newly Coke-headed Raphael had moved into line next to him and begun to undress. Julian was relieved to see that there was no sign of recognition. The Coke-bot obviously hadn’t read Raphael’s mind.

A moment later the Coke-Head in front of him was in motion and it was time to board the alien ship. Trying not to stand out in the line of marching slaves he matched his pace with it and prayed silently that the alien controller was as unobservant as its slaves.

The ship’s interior was like nothing he could have expected. He’d imagined brutal white plastic like on Star Wars, in fact the corridor reminded him of a red light district.

The walls were lined with shop-fronts each one containing what appeared to be a regular king sized bed decorated in various styles. The first display rooms were darkened each contained four Coke-Heads each stood in his own alcove. Further down the corridor one of the display rooms was fully lit with holographic signage attracting attention to it.

The four immobile occupants appeared to be humanoid but not quite human. Their body shape made them look like idealized Greek gods, muscles defined in polished chrome with small areas of blue skin visible at the joints. Judging by the 18″ long codpieces that ended just below a stylized belly button, these aliens were also males.

Julian forced himself not to turn and stare; up ahead was another lit room, he determined to get a better look as he passed it.

The aliens in the second room were of several species, like the first set they were clad in chrome, with uniformly large codpieces. One was bright red with horns, one grayish green and slightly scaly, the last was another blue skin. Each one had a smaller sleeker version of a Coke-bot bonded to the side of its head.

Just like on the Coke-bots two thin tenticular tubes ran down over the highly polished pectoral plating ending in circular devices roughly over the position that a nipple might inhabit. Having seen similar armatures, Julian guessed that below the chrome, four hypodermic needles were puncturing the alien’s real nipples.

The 2nd alien room was quickly out of site and the rooms that followed reverted to the darkened type filled with newly recruited slaves.

Ahead of him the corridor widened into a vast Mall-like concourse; Julian felt disoriented, there was no way that the shuttle he’d entered could contain all this. His gasp of awe should have given him away, but his fellow humans seemed oblivious. A tiny chink of hope entered his universe, if they really were like the Borg on Star Trek they ought to ignore him totally.

Before he could think more on the possibility he felt a phallic prod in the rear end, reflexively he glanced around. The nudge had been Raphael’s erect cock, held engorged and erect by the Coke-bot’s cock ring tipped tail. The Asian had not been aware that he’d stopped and had continued walking.

Hurriedly Julian turned and caught up with the two Coke-Heads ahead of him. The lack of reaction to his hesitation seemed proof that they really did react exactly like traditional Borg. Feeling more secure he glanced around, the inhabitants of Sidemore Country Park were fanning out in groups of four each heading to sets of quarters similar to the ones in the corridor.

Julian’s mind seethed with doubt, make a break now in front of several hundred drones? Or wait in one of those alcoves until things quieted down?

At the far side of the chamber three silver droids appeared, inspecting a row of senior citizens. That clinched it; it was almost certain that the silver types would be more aware and would raise the alarm if he ran now.

Reluctantly he walked into the bedroom past the bed and into one of the decoratively sculpted alcoves.

He stood impatiently waiting for the flow of new drones to subside. It didn’t; it seemed that a vastly greater number of people than could have been on the estate were walking blankly past.

“Ju-li-an”

Raphael’s voice nearly given him a heart attack

“Raphael! Are you all right?” he whispered

“Hard..to think...feels so good.”

“Fight it!”

“No! If I...Res-ist...a repair unit... will be sent. This Unit does not require repair...obedience training will proceed according to schedule.”

Julian sighed, it was hopeless, and Raphael’s brief attempt at free will had been squished before he’d finished a single sentence.

Steam hissed, venting in Raphael’s alcove on the opposite side of the bed. An armature unfolded from the alcove’s hemispherical roof. Wrapped in a variety of wires and ended in a two-inch wide socket, it seemed almost cobra-like as it darted forward, plugging itself into Raphael’s Coke-bot with a solid clunking noise.

He had about three seconds to realize that the exact same thing was happening in his alcove before the connecting ring slotted itself into the dead Coke-bot draped over his head.

Cold slab-like fingers closed, gripping his head tightly, the bot’s tentacles repositioning themselves so that their nipple rings could send its hypodermics lancing into his nipples. The Coke-bot’s robotic tail, which had rested down his back like a ponytail lashed around blindly, finally wedging itself between his ass cheeks and wrapping its pincers tightly but firmly around his cock.

Words formed in his mind

< Unit 442569-4 Co-processor Malfunction>

< Initiating Backup Co-processor>

< Backup Co-processor Malfunction>

< Allocating Core CPU capacity. Unit 442569-4 prioritized>

A wave of dizziness came over him, desperately he tried to unplug the thing, but it was already too late, his limbs were no longer his to control.

< Scanning Unit 442569-4 mind-state. Operating System Download status 0.000% complete. Re-initiating Standard Lifeform Capture Protocols>

< Unit 442569-4....You will enjoy this process>

Julian inhaled ready to scream, then the pleasure hit him and his breath exhaled in a long ecstatic sigh as a tingling erotic glow expanded from his nipples and cock enveloping him in its euphoric embrace.

There was a new thought-emotion flooding his mind, he hadn’t realized that he’d been searching for his home and now he’d found it. He would be safe here, no random unplanned for events would ever bother him again.

With the feeling of security and relaxation came a feeling of cozy tiredness that always came just before true sleep began.

0.005 minutes later Julian was asleep, his body locked into a parade rest stance.