The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Metal Harvest Beta: Earth Defense Force

Chapter 3: Evolution

Full awareness was required.

Davis blinked and inhaled sharply; he must have dozed off! Instead of the Quarter-sized disc of the moon, his full field of vision was filled with a ghostly blue-white glow emanating from a potato shaped asteroid.

“VT-012.., Cocksucker respond. Over” he thought.

“Wha? Ho-Ly crap! I’m here Tightass. I must have dozed off there! Damn we are close! Over”

Davis accessed his GPS function and navigation software. He found that he ‘knew’ exactly where he was in relation to Achilles, Cocksucker and the target crater; Like a homing pigeon only larger.

“We’re ok, exactly on course and speed for a soft landing. Over” he thought, trying to reassure Cocksucker.

“I guess our interfaces decided it was nap time. Over”

“I’m definitely going to ask the Flight Captain about that. Bad enough these things making us hornier than a breeder in heat, but dropping us into standby mode without our consent seems a tad dangerous. Over”

“Ah well, I’m sure it was only doing what it thought best. Over” replied Cocksucker, sounding totally unconcerned.

Shaking his head Davis, decided to concentrate on landing. It wouldn’t matter who was controlling who if they you were spread across the surface like peanut butter.

With a few spurts of gas from his verniers he aligned his tail with the ground and folded his wings, using his main thrusters to decelerate until he was in freefall, neither descending or ascending.

The sensation of transformation started, his wings becoming numb, his legs unlocking. It felt great! He couldn’t resist running his newly restored hands over his body, feeling every plate and securing clip. Deciding whether Fighter mode was ‘better’ than Battloid mode was going to be an internal debate that would take years.

Aiming for the centre of the crater he raised his right arm and launched a harpoon with a tow-line attached, once it was secure he simply reeled himself in.

VT-012 did the same, landing next to him in the crater.

Carefully Davis bent down and picked up a handful of the asteroid material. It was cold and slippery like slightly melted ice cubes, but at the same time having a granular texture like sand from a beach running through his metallic fingers.

He sat down and turned his sensor-encrusted face toward the sun, which had just broached the horizon, feeling luxuriantly warm against his hull.

“What are you doing Tightass? Over”

“We’ve got 20 minutes before the target array comes into view, I figured to catch some rays. Over.” replied Davis leaning back and stretching luxuriantly on the deep space beach.

“Sounds like a plan. Over” replied Cocksucker lying down next to him.

A minute later Davis felt something gently brush against his left missile launcher, stroking. It didn’t take interference from his interface to realize that Cocksucker wanted something a little sexier than just being at peace in the beautifully bright airless paradise.

For someone who’d been vehemently claiming to be Straight Hetro Boy, Andy was turning out to be wonderfully gay, reveling in his newly implanted love of cock. Davis supposed he ought to be alarmed by the changes in his lover’s character, but couldn’t work up the energy... Not when he was doing ‘that’ to his left thigh actuator housing.

Of course once his Interface registered the type 44 caress, it wanted in on the action, feeding some interesting foreplay maneuvers into Davis’ brain.

Davis obediently complied, rolling onto his side and drifting his hand across Cocksucker’s cockpit tracing the metal inlays with a finger.

Instinctively, he looked Cocksucker in the eye, laser beams connecting, synchronizing. Thoughts of the EDF, the targeting array and the mission vanished instantly. Instead they would lie here on the sunlit asteroid and engage in mutual foreplay bringing each other to mutual orgasm in precisely 54.148 minutes ....32.412 minutes after the target array traversed overhead.

Cocksucker moved his knee up between Davis’s legs rubbing against the snub nosed tip of his cockpit. had VT-011 had a cock assembly this would have been where it would have been rooted. Davis missed having a cock, but was reassured that if nothing else, the alien interface knew how to provide orgasms as good if not better than he’d have managed unassisted.

< Trusting my Interface is a correct response. I should rely on my Interface for all my sexual functions. >

The thought was obviously generated by his Interface. But that didn’t matter as he relied on his Interface during his sexual functions.

Cocksucker’s questing fingers did something wonderful to his blackbox access hatch and he arched his back in the first of the twenty orgasms that they had scheduled.

At some point Davis found that he was no longer measuring time in minutes but in orgasms instead. Just before his 17th orgasm he felt the asteroid move beneath him like experiencing a a mini earthquake, for a second he thought he was experiencing that rare ‘the Earth moved for me’ orgasm, but then he saw IT, filling the sky over Cocksucker’s shoulder.

Davis pushed Cocksucker off, aborting the rest of the orgasm sequence and clamping down hard on the Interface’s access to his mind.

Overhead, the starry sky was filled with a heart-stoppingly familiar alien craft, miles long and covered in spine like towers. It was The Great Abductor, the alien craft that had ruined his country and turned his beloved brother into a nearly mindless herd beast. Davis concentrated on his rage, drowning out the love for the Abductor and sense of ‘home’ leaking from his Interface.

The Enemy had returned.

Chapter 4: Inception

Overhead the vast alien spacecraft moved slowly past taking no notice at all of Davis or the VF-011. Turning the Battloid’s head he tracked the ship with video, infrared and motion detector.

This time the invader wouldn’t find the Earth to be such a pushover; over twenty years of construction effort had gone into the creation of the EDF, the defense line and the 20ft tall Battloids that defended it. Clearly the aliens hadn’t expected any resistance out here in the asteroid belt. Davis figured that it might be useful if he and Cocksucker could get some recon recordings for the inevitable battle before retreating.

He felt a hand squeezing the VF-011’s metal ass a finger flicking at its fuel intake valve.

“Damn it Cocksucker! Cut it out this isn’t the time! Over.”

“You are no fun, Tightass. Over.” replied Cocksucker

He wished the damn thing hadn’t shown up he’d really been looking forward to those final three orgasms of the sequence that they’d been enacting.

Davis pinched himself, hoping to dispel the increasing desire. Trying to think about something else he tried focusing on his duty.

“Cocksucker, Keep it tight, lets get these recon shots and head on back. Over”

“Sorry for goosin’ you Tightass. I know its just my interface making me horny, but all the usual distractions aren’t working. Over!”

“Greeting Earthmen! I am pleased to announce our one time special bonus offer! As the first sentients we’ve encountered since returning to Sol System we’ve assigned each of you a personal non-transferable credit balance of ¢20,000 to be spent at our facility!” crackled a young enthusiastic sounding voice “.......oh yeah! Over! Is that right? I have to say over? uh Over!”

Davis scowled, he hadn’t realized that any of the other cadets were out here. Playing stupid jokes at a time like this! It was insane.

“In case you didn’t notice we’re in a case Zulu combat alert! The Flight Captain will have your ass so badly you won’t even be able to sit in a mecha let alone connect your butt-plug! Over!”

“Uh..Tightass, check your three o-clock. Over” transmitted Cocksucker sounding nervous.

Davis swiveled his sensor head to look to his left. A golden skinned youth sat on a boulder in a highly suggestive fuck-me-now pose, a pair of dove-like wings issuing from his back, each feather a pure blinding white with its spine glinting like polished chrome.

The alien waved in a friendly fashion

“Yo! This is me here. Over.”

“Identify yourself. Over” snapped Davis bringing his autocannon to bear on the cute naked alien.

“Pleasure Unit Cupid-1, at your service. On behalf of our Central Intelligence I am to act as ambassador and hostage while you board our ship. Over”

“Are..are you human?” asked Cocksucker forgetting comms procedure.

“That is the local name for my source species yes. Say! Do you like the wings? They’re new! Central Intelligence had them made for me so that I’d match my ancestral namesake. What do you think? erotic or just too much?”

“Uhhm...yeah they’re ok. Over” replied Davis feeling totally out of his depth. Yes the boy looked hotter than a fusion reactor with those cybernetic wings ...it was just that it wasn’t a conversation he’d been expecting.

“Only Ok?” asked Cupid-1 his wings sagging giving the impression that he was totally dejected.

“Come on Tightass, can’t you see he’s trying to make an impression, wearing his best party gear.” transmitted Cocksucker “Tightass here, he wouldn’t know how to give a compliment if he tried kid. Listen those wings of yours..really fucking hot. I know you can’t tell it but I’m in this cockpit flipping the bone at you right now. Over”

“Get a grip Cocksucker you’re suffering from interface narcosis. He’s not a hooker he’s an ambassador, lets have some respect. Over.”

“You need not be concerned Tightass. I am not offended.” replied Cupid-1, getting slowly to his feet and bounding toward them in the slow motion of low gravity until finally, he landed at the feet of Davis’s VF-011.

“So are these suits grafted on or are they just vehicles?” asked the alien reaching out to caress the VF-011’s ankle actuator.

Davis shivered in pleasure, the gentle touch nearly pushing him over the limit into lust crazed interface narcosis. His interface told him he’d just had a type 1144 caress. With an intake of breath he realized the tiny ex-human knew exactly where the erogenous zones were located on his VT-011 body.

“With respect Ambassador, could you not touch my ankle that way. Our mecha have a neural interface so that we feel what it feels...and there’s a snag the interface is interpreting your caress as an invitation to do something …something gay and erotic. If you keep this up I may lose control and get all undiplomatic”

“Oh..ok. I guess that’s got to be a problem with using old style capture units for a purpose they weren’t intended for. I bet they really get into your minds after a while. I would guess loads of your retired pilots go into the sex industry when they retire.” replied Cupid-1 still running his hand up and down Davis’s actuator casing

Davis felt his hand drifting toward the delightfully sensitive area around his fuel cap, it was almost without his conscious control.

“I bet you pilots actually have secret fantasies of giving good sex to anyone willing to pay...sort of like robotic Pleasure Units, serving a Brothel with a total unquestioning obedience.” said the silver winged alien in a perfectly reasonable conversational tone.

Tightass and Cocksucker both groaned, their minds overcome by desire for the fantasy that the alien ambassador had laid out in their minds.

“Look me in the eye and tell me its not so” demanded Cupid-1

Davis glanced downward his interface’s eyepiece locking on to the third eye that had opened on the ambassador’s forehead.

0.025 minutes later Capture Unit 9154230-1 had rebooted and taken proper control of its organic CPU. 0.008 minutes after that it received an IFF signal from unit 171498017-7 indicating that also had completed a capture.

No further instructions were needed, the hardwired need to return to the Brothel for upgrade overrode everything else.

Releasing its anchor, unit 9154230-1 launched itself on a course that would intersect the Brothel’s landing bay in 24.534 minutes. As no further pilot based action was required during the glide it reverted to standby mode, disconnecting from the vehicle and taking the blissfully unconscious Davis ‘Tightass’ McCall with it.

* * *

Davis blinked as he returned to consciousness. For a moment he panicked, he wasn’t breathing, his lungs were filled with a liquid that he somehow knew was mercury.

He ceased panicking. Panic was not appropriate. His interface switched off that emotion. Able to think clearly again, he realized that he was still inside the cockpit of VF-011.

He tried to access his sensors but found that he was no longer linked to his mecha.

Data flowed into his mind. His cockpit was being filled with a mercury based suspension that held billions of nanotechnological adaptors.

He wanted to panic again because he knew that there was no way that he should just ‘know’ what the stuff was.

Even worse he knew its function, he was to become a permanent part of VF-011, each tiny robot would burrow into him, find a nerve ending and then grow like coral, expanding until his nerves connected directly with VF-011’s control circuits

< ...And that would be seriously kewl. To be able to make love naked on Jupiter’s moons without having to worry about Interface Narcosis! He would be merged totally with his interface, becoming a new creature driven by an instinctive need for love and the desire to fulfill the dreams of others. >

The thought wasn’t his thought, he knew that, but even so it still felt like some ultimate fantasy that he should sacrifice almost anything to obtain. The emotion was fake as well but that didn’t matter anymore.

He waited patiently, occasionally reviewing his prospects and receiving soothing feelings of elation and anticipation.

12.004 minutes later the adaptation was complete and his new nervous system went live. It felt as if he were a balloon suddenly expanding. All sensation from his ‘old’ body ceased he was VT-011 and it was him.

Unlike the old connection where he still had a ghostly awareness of his original body, this time there was no ghost! He was finally and irrevocably bonded with his mecha. VT-011 and Davis McCall were no more all that remained was Tightass.

Filled with curiosity, he uncurled and stood upright, scanning the room he was in. It was clearly a hangar, brightly lit, with gaudy neon signs offering a variety of sexual pleasures.

He noted that Cocksucker and VF-012 were curled up next to him still in a fetal position, an umbilical pipe attached to his torso mounted cockpit, still pumping it full of life giving nano-mercury.

Reaching down he stroked Cocksucker’s sensor head. It was something of a shock to realize that the ex VF-012’s body shape now seemed more pleasing to the eye than Cocksucker’s naked human body had been.

A radar return at the fringe of his perceptions caused him to glance around. Cupid 442569-5 was approaching, along with a centaur....except that it was a Zebra’s body, so that made him a Zebrataur?

“You are awake, excellent! How are you feeling?” asked the Zebrataur in what the old vids would have calked an upper class pre-abduction English accent.

Tightass felt pretty damn good and said so.

“Well that’s a relief!” replied the Zebrataur “My docking bay’s repair units had not encountered a unit like yourself before and proceeded to ‘detect and remedy’ a design flaw. A bit embarassing really I’m in charge I should have sensed it happening.”

“Its..its ok really”

“The best I could do was switch off the programming that was turning you into one of my sex slaves. You are now correctly classified on file as a Customer, with several million credits assigned as compensation for the mutations we’ve caused.”

Tightass examined his hands, the stubby squared off fingers seemed to have somehow grown rounder and more organic.

“In effect you are a newborn child of a new species, the nanobots will continue working and you will grow up to be a fully functional adult capable of reproduction”

Surprised Tightass looked down at himself, his cock actually felt longer than he remembered it being. A small golden weenie was visible growing from his lower chassis just below where his now opaque cockpit was beginning to look more six-packy.

‘Obviously my cock feels longer because its running all the way down from the old cockpit’ he thought touching the tiny nub experimentally with his metallic fingers.

Annoyed with himself he made an effort to get a grip on the situation. Sure this Zebrataur had turned him into something new and wonderful; but a part of him was still a serving member of the Earth Defense Force with a duty to protect the humans of Earth.

“If you are here to kidnap more people. I warn you, it is still my duty to stop you.”

“I’m under new management, I mean....the ship that is...is under new management. I’m not the Controller that harvested Earth. In fact I’m one of those that got taken. The name’s Julian Spencer-Windsor by the way, pleased to meet you.”

“If you aren’t here to invade what are you here for?”

“I’m a Brothel. My function is to provide sexual pleasure for profit.”

“The previous Controller deliberately left loads of ‘broken’ technology lying around. Access to that has boosted the planet’s tech level to the extent that I can now safely classify you all as customers rather than just resource material.” grinned the Zebrataur “Kind of a relief really, theoretically I’d have felt guilty about kidnapping replacement pleasure units.”

“I have your word that you aren’t going to abduct anyone?”

“You can have my word or you can link directly into my mind and examine my thoughts directly”

“Of course” replied Tightass feeling embarrassed that he’d forgotten that he had such a basic ability.

A moment later he was connected and could feel the innate honesty of Julian the Zebrataur. The gradual transformation of the young aristocrat from human rebel to intergalactic brothel owner was laid out for his inspection. Everything Julian said and felt were honest...as long as you realized that a good part of his personality was The Brothel itself, caring only for legal profit.

It was interesting to realize that he was an ongoing compensation event, and that he could demand almost anything on behalf of his species. His species...not humanity.

Tightass cut the link, he needed to think.

If he and Cocksucker constituted a new species then they were already at the brink of extinction and would have an extremely poor genetic diversity if they managed to reproduce...

The thought of reproduction made his cock stiffen, thumping metallically against his cockpit. Without glancing down he knew that it had already grown a foot longer and was at its adolescent length. The exact mechanics of male-male-mecha reproduction were a topic he wasn’t sure his mind was ready for. What he did know was that he and Cocksucker would definitely be creating mecha Babies as soon as they were able.

“As you now perceive. I do not constitute to either you or humanity.” said the zebrataur distracting Tightass from the growing lust that he wad feeling.

“What...oh yeah, sure”

“My original purpose in bringing you aboard was to open negotiation with the Earth Government. A battle between your EDF and my Pleasure units would be extremely unprofitable...and once the EDF was subjugated, result in the need for a re-stocking. Your present umm... condition makes that difficult”

Tightass’s sensor head creased into a smile that it had only just become capable of expressing.

“You can leave the EDF to me and Cocksucker, Julian. You just hang back out of range for a bit ok?”

“Ok...I believe I can extrapolate what you intend. I can give you a year is that long enough?”

“Plenty! Oh...and can you work up a few designs. Link up and I’ll show you what I want”

The link flickered briefly.

“I see, yes...that is definitely possible” replied Julian sounding intrigued.

On the ground Cocksucker groaned and began to sit up. Tightass glanced down at him feeling all sorts of odd wild emotions...not least of which was a lethal desire to protect his mate.

“You’d better clear out Julian, and put the hangar out of bounds for a while. We won’t want to be interrupted and I’m experiencing some really savage territoriality right now.”

Julian smiled knowingly and gave a wink before turning and galloping toward the human sized exit.

* * *

Julian stood in the observation gallery, watching the wild passionate sex act being played out in the now mostly wrecked hangar bay.

Cupid-1 sat bear-back on his zebra-chassis, leaning forward so that his hard metallic nipples poked Julian just below his shoulder blades, his hands wrapping around to caress Julian’s polished chrome torso.

“They don’t suspect a thing?” asked the winged pleasure unit

“Not a thing. You did well Cupid-1, they didn’t even think of shooting you”

“I’ve studied my source species history as you commanded. Your choice of me as bait clearly indicated that I should behave in a cute, innocent and inexperienced manner.”

“Your analysis was correct. Use of that personality configuration will generate considerable income from the customers”

Julian returned his attention to the two giants rutting in the hangar, he couldn’t help feeling a glow of pride, they really were magnificent. If this worked out, he hoped to persuade a few hundred of the new species to join the Brothel.

An arm flailed wildly crushing another shuttlepod.

Julian winced. Shuttlepods came out of the overhead budget.