The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

NOTE FROM YOUR MENTAL TRAINING COMPUTER

Hello. We are so glad that you have been placed in this experimental sexbot suit and do not fret. Your training has already begun. You may not remember the past month but you have been proving to be an excellent candidate. The research staff very much appreciates the use of your body during these advances in science.

What you are about to see is a captured memory from a previous candidate, who happened to “encounter” alien life and as such has create a most interesting entry into our reference material that we will now play directly into your mind, and hopefully, it will set itself in place as an authentic memory of your very own. This is being done to verify that implanted humiliation and hopelessness can in fact be just as effective as achieving such effects in reality during training.

Enjoy as you sit there immobilized in your sexbot suit.

YOUR NEW MEMORY

“Why does my visor have a tentacle stuck to it?” asked Science Engineer Jessica Sloan trying to regain her senses after a long fall and slide into an alien moon cave.

“Sloan,” said a voice over the radio comm. “We’re a hundred feet overhead. Can you see us? I’m sending a crew back to base to get some rescue gear.”

“Um, I guess I’m OK. What happened?”

“You found a weak point in the surface and fell into a sink hole or cave. Somehow your suit’s sensors didn’t pick it up.“

Another voice kicked in. “Her suit’s integrity is fine, but luckily if she is in fact fine physically, she’s is in an air pocket. The oxygen is good and she’s immune to the antigens on this moon. I’m checking and yes. She has had all her shots. She’ll be ok while the equipment is retrieved.”

“Um, um,” said Sloan still gathering herself, “Guys. I’m being surrounded by moving tentacles. Lots of them. They’re squeezing me a bit here.”

A third voice kicked in. “It’s going to be an hour to get equipment in.”

“Shit,” said the first voice. It was her commander. He had a deep reassuring voice that Jessica liked to hear. “Look Jessica,” and with that usage of her first name she knew she was in trouble. “The alien life here won’t hurt you.”

“Oh thank god. I was worried. I mean these slimy tentacles are grabbing my arms and legs. I see the suction cups going over my visor. I’m not feeling so good about this right now. Wait. Holy shit! I think they’re opening my suit!”

“Ok Jessica. You need to listen to me.” His voice became more intense. “You’re going to be taken. We’re going lose radio contact, but you have had training and have a particular set of diplomatic skills that you have developed over your carrier. You will have to use them. Remember, it’s probably just one alien and it is just playfully greeting you in its own way. Unfortunately, it will probably penetrate your body. You have only one tentacle like thing on your body to interface with it, your tongue. It will find your tongue and when it does, try to stroke the suction cups. The reports say it will make it happy and I hate to say, sexually satisfied, and it will leave you alo…”

Something cracked behind her. The radio died. Her suit had been opened probably at the waist, which had a complex series of locking flaps. The hardback air tank had been separated as well. All this required some deliberate intelligence.

“Shit! Shit!” yelled Jessica feeling something slimy and gooey rub between her legs and down the inside of her right pressure boot. She strained to see down the helmet’s neck. It was a circular metal ring seal, but not big enough to really see anything. Her eyes strained, but her face could only push forward so much when inside the spherical helmet.

“Oh god. Oh god no!” she gasped. She tried to focus and look through the menu system on her visor. Why was the radio off? “Status! Status!” Was she really going to be left alone? And then she went back to the “Oh god no!”

A tentacle had rubbed against her clit and probably sensed the region as more interesting than the skin of her legs. Another tentacle was sliding its wet way between her butt cheeks. And yet another tentacle was wrapping her belly and spiraling around her as it slowly explored further up her torso. It would be slipping past her boobs soon. And it did just that, slipping under her bra and rubbing her nipples sensing the differing textures.

“Shit.” She just remembered what the commander had said. She’d have to tongue a tentacle to communicate with it. She had heard of tactile communication with these simpleton creatures of the dark caves. One scientific paper equated the contact to the sexual act of cullingulus.

“No! Commander! Hurry! Shit!”

She felt pressure and wet slime push up between her boobs. It was sensing her carbon dioxide exhalant and its movement signaled an eager excitement. Inside her helmet between her eyes and the glowing text of her visor computer screen, a narrow slender slow moving tentacle stretched upwards. A clear viscous glutinous gel oozed from its smooth translucent surface. A drip fell. As the tip raised further into her helmet going above the brow of her eyes out of view, the wider portion following behind turned slowly revealing several lines of coin sized suction cups.

She remembered the scientific research. It showed that stroking the rim of a suction cup and then fluttering inside the center made these creatures enter a state of euphoria. It relaxed them and they would retract any advances and essentially take a nap.

“No!” was all Jessica could think. Basically tongue fucking a tentacle made the alien life form lay back in an after glow and smoke a cigarette. Why her?

The narrow tip slapped around her face. It touched her nose. It went to the side and touched into her ear, but gave that up. It came back. What was confusing it was that Jessica was holding her breath.

She sniffed to get air.

The tentacle froze and surged to her left nostril. She felt it go deep inside. She coughed and gagged from the resulting drowning sensation and when it touched her throat, she garbled a scream. The wider section of the tentacle now folded more of itself into her helmet covering her eyes and face in slime. Something touched her tongue and felt her retracting muscle movements. The narrow tentacle tip then instantly withdrew from her nose.

She opened her eyes. The tentacle had retracted. Her helmet was empty. Was that it? Was she done? Had she tongue fucked an alien? She still felt squeezed and surrounding pressure and wet movement between her legs. Something pushed into her rear. “Oh!” Something pushed into her vagina. “No!”

Her head darted about the helmet looking down as if she could see or do something. Her arms were pinned with branches of moving appendages holding her down to the left and right of her peripheral vision. Her legs were pulled wide and held firmly too. It was eerily quiet though and then the narrow pointy tentacle appeared before her eyes again and did an ever so slow turn. She couldn’t hold her breath anymore she was gasping in air as she watched the point of the cone bow before her face, lower to her lips and stroke her soft plush flesh leaving a creamy mucus goo behind.

She gritted her jaw as her chest heaved sucking in and pushing out air though her teeth.

Her eyes crossed when she felt the long finger press across her white smooth enamel. Ewww! It wanted in. It wanted to communicate. Something grabbed her chin and pulled down firmly. Her mouth was opening. Should she just cooperate? Should she extend her tongue as an act of kindness?

“Mmm!” she screamed as she felt the tentacle ruthlessly, forcefully enter her mouth and push down to her throat. Her head pounded against the inside walls of her helmet. She could still breath but her panic was hard to control. The tentacles inside her body between her legs began to thrust in and out in varying patterns. She felt deliberate contact with her clitoris.

The science papers had mentioned that blood circulation increases in skin regions was a catalyst for more contact.

No. Please stop. The physical actions were turning her body on. The alien had some way of making her body go against her mind. She was being forced to climax. Was this malicious or just a friendly gesture? Scientist said they may never understand the alien mind and its motives. But the actions were clear. It was planning to fuck her brains out.

She extended her tongue and felt a suction cup that moved in and out as it passed through her mouth. She made side to side motions with her tongue. She wanted to get the creatures attention. It was hard. Distractions were everywhere. Her vaginal walls were throbbing like she never felt before. The tentacle in her rear was pushing almost pinching in sync with the one in her sex. Together they danced and found her g-spot.

“Mmmm!”

She got one single circular tongue stroke in against the hard edge of a round shape. The tentacle stopped thrusting and pressed down flat against her tongue. She continued to circle its edges. She felt a warm hug over her entire body as the thrusting between her legs slowed and made more loving caring thrusts as the alien fucked her more gently.

She flattened her tongue against the inside concave shape of the suction cup and slowly rocked it left to right. With that one move being repeated, she felt her whole body being lifted into the air and turned upside down and around. The entire structure of tentacles shivered and shook taking her whole body with it. She continued rolling her tongue and then she remembered the reports. She fluttered. Again and again and again she fluttered her tongue. With little in and out insertions and withdrawals, she desperately tried to send the creature over the sexual edge of pleasure.

The creature froze still holding her body up off the cave floor. She felt a fast vibrating shiver from the tentacles.

“Ahhmmmm!” she screamed with a powerful gagged orgasm of her own. Her eyes closed. She felt her body being lowered and slowly churned through the slime. It turned her upside down. The awkward orientation made her feel faint along with her hard hitting climax.

She vibrated several times in sync with the alien as her body and space suit descended through the creamy mucus she could see smearing passed her visor. She stopped looking letting the feelings flood over her mind.

A moment later, she opened her eyes. She found herself left standing against a rock wall.

The creature was gone.

What made her angry with herself at that moment was that she actually worried if she did a good job. Her mind must have been exposed to something. She truly wanted to have pleased the creature, to have touched it tantalizingly enough, to have allowed it to engage her in the most degrading way possible—but, of course, only if that made it happy.

Where did these thoughts come from? They couldn’t be hers. Yet she wanted to do it all again. And then she realized she would probably have to write this in a report. Crap. Hopefully only medical staff would read something so humiliatingly personal. The thought popped in her mind again. She wanted more tentacle sex. It felt so good. A man, woman, or animal—none of that would do anymore—not that she had ever tried that last one. What would her commanders think of her? It would bring shame onto the research organization and the company if it went public that this event even happened and that she had somehow been mentally altered. She probably shouldn’t mention it.

Yes. Just deny it happened. Skip the fucking report about the fucking—oh fuck. Then again, god she so badly wanted to tell the world. Come to Moon Alpha Tango 54 for a good time. Be mentally enslaved by an alien. Bring your friends. She then knew her mental state had obviously been corrupted. She had to tell someone. She needed help.

Hopefully her commander would understand and help her through some sort of recovery.

A light from her fallen equipment made visible some movement down inside the cave tunnel. Was the commander finally coming? She couldn’t move. She was exhausted. She squinted her eyes. Her helmet visor was smudged in goo. It was all so blurry. She focused and saw red colored tentacles touching and interacting with blue ones. She hadn’t thought of it, but her alien molester did have a red tint. Was it talking to another of its kind?

She slid her back down the rocky wall of the cave into a slouching position. She wanted to run, but her body refused.

She saw blue tentacles approaching. They grabbed her pressure boots and wrapped around her ankles holding her legs down and then pulling them apart. One long tentacle slapped softly against her visor and then she felt more slimy movement. It was slipping into her suit at the waist where the opening had been made.

“No. I can’t do this again. Please. I just can’t. Oh god no.” She looked down the cave tunnel at the red tinted creature sitting there as if it were watching her.

Had it just recommend her to a friend?