The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Rachel sat quietly in the passenger seat for the remainder of the journey, arms wrapped around her knee, as she rocked slowly back and forth. By the time they pulled into Aeryn’s long drive, her eyes were glassy and blank, staring out into the darkness, searching for something just beyond the limits of perception.

“Come with me, Rachel,” Aeryn insisted, easing open the car door, “We need to get you out of those wet things.”

“Yes,” the girl nodded, meekly, “Ma’am.”

The key scratched noisily against the lock while Aeryn fumbled with the door. The girl leaned into her, as though attempting to mould their bodies together. The proximity made the older woman’s heart beat a little faster, as heat bled between them. Then finally, the handle turned, and they almost fell through into the narrow hallway. By the time she’d eased her guest into a high-backed chair, Aeryn was quite breathless. Rachel had been an almost dead weight, but it wasn’t just the physical exertion affecting her.

“What happened to you, little one?” she wondered aloud, “How could anyone allow you to slip through their fingers?”

Rachel blinked in confusion, and then gazed intently into Aeryn’s face, as if searching for something. Arms still wrapped protectively around her body, the girl clung to herself desperately and Aeryn had the very strong impression that she was trying to convince herself that at least something around her was real.

“I don’t understand,” Rachel admitted, tears rolling down her pale cheeks.

Aeryn reached across and gently stroked them away, letting her fingers graze the soft flesh. The girl closed her eyes and nuzzled against the reassuring touch, a soft sigh escaping her beautiful lips. Shoulders shaking with the effort to hold her emotions in check, Rachel could only whine, and once again, the woman found herself responding automatically to the strength of that need.

“You are beautiful, Rachel,” Aeryn smiled, “And so fragile.”

“Will you take care of me, Aeryn?” the girl asked after a moment, eyes still bright with tears.

“Yes, love,” she nodded, “If that is what you wish.”

“And tell me what to do?” Rachel breathed.

“You need that, don’t you?” Aeryn suggested, as calmly as she could.

“Yes,” she sighed, head bowed.

It was all happening far too quickly, and yet it seemed impossible to step back from the inevitable outcome. The girl’s desire hummed through Aeryn’s being, resonating and combining with her own ossified needs, and making her groan with the strength of those emotions.

She wanted Rachel so badly right then, that it physically hurt.

“Alright,” the woman sighed, “Then I will take you, look after you needs, and give you instruction.”

“Do you promise?” Rachel asked, her voice little more that a whimper.

“Of course,” Aeryn laughed, slightly taken aback, “I take my obligations very seriously, and I expect no less of my pets. But now, love, we really do have to get you out of these wet things before you catch your death.”

The girl stretched out her arm, and lightly touched one finger to Aeryn’s lips. The caress was surprisingly warm, and not at all what she’d expected when she’d first seen Rachel’s metallic gloves. Her skin tingled delightfully, relishing the first human contact she had experienced in so very long. The display of initiative was reassuring, too, as it suggested that the young beauty might not be nearly as damaged as Aeryn had supposed.

Having said that, though, it was clear the girl would need some serious obedience training.

The woman’s experienced hands slid easily beneath Rachel’s coat, pressing firmly into the soft flesh beneath. Then, very deliberately, Aeryn swept them upwards and outwards in a long slow circle. Rachel couldn’t help herself, gasping and simply pressing into that assured touch, allowing those clever hands to envelop and control her straining breasts.

She let Aeryn help her out of the heavy coat, shrugging her arms free and letting the sodden fabric puddle around her feet. Heat sparked once more in Rachel’s belly, the same sensation she dimly remembered. Ghosts wandered through her memories, drawn by the familiarity of the moment. Her body shivered, trembling with a mixture of fear and half-forgotten need.

Looking down, she could see Aeryn’s fingers trip delicately over her blouse, picking at the buttons before easing her swollen, silk-covered breasts out from under it. The woman clutched at her round, heavy tits then, handling them with such a delightful roughness that it was an effort not to squirm.

The slender woman moved almost threateningly close, and Rachel could feel how desire rippled off her taut body. Moving with exaggerated slowness, Aeryn reached around her, letting her fingers find the smooth skin hidden beneath Rachel’s blouse, and began to unclasp the bra. Their bodies crushed together, and even through the tightness of her clothing, Aeryn’s small hard nipples managed to indent the heavy flesh of Rachel’s sweat-glazed breasts.

Aeryn’s moan of pleasure was almost too soft for Rachel to hear.

Carefully, stunned by the strength of her own reaction, Aeryn eased the suddenly flimsy-looking material free, then, raised it to her face, where she inhaled the rich aroma with obvious relish. Unnecessarily, she cupped Rachel’s tits and rolled her hands up onto the young woman’s shoulders, sweeping the blouse up and over. This momentarily lifted the girl’s breasts before letting them slosh heavily back onto her chest. She continued the movement, jamming the material down over Rachel’s arms, and tucking it tightly into the back of her skirt.

“This will help you to keep still,” she whispered conspiratorially, jerking the impromptu binding tighter.

Without waiting for a response, she dropped into a crouch and wrapped her arms around Rachel’s legs. Moving with fluid grace, Aeryn hooked her heels behind the standing woman’s and then reached up under the long skirt to clutch at Rachel’s straining buttocks. The simple hold effectively immobilised everything from the waist down, pinning the girl in place and allowing Aeryn unfettered access to Rachel’s most intimate areas.

Hungrily, she took hold of the girl’s panties, hooking her thumbs under the waistband, and then, with an almost brutal swiftness, tore the material free, leaving Rachel suddenly and totally exposed. But, while the girl’s nether lips gaped invitingly, it was the rest of her body that gave Aeryn pause. Flushed, swollen flesh gave way to gleaming chrome, and she recoiled in fear and horror.

“What,” she gasped, back-pedalling madly in an effort to escape, “What are you?”

A shadow of disappointment flickered across Rachel’s face as she stared down at her suddenly frightened host. The flames inside her only burned hotter, though, coiling around her spine and forcing every muscle to contract more forcefully. She struggled not to double over as the tension grew more heated, her voice a strangled moan.

“Am I not beautiful, Aeryn?” she asked, bitterly, then shrugged, flexing her arms and rending the material with which she had been bound. Aeryn could do nothing as the girl took hold of her head. The metal brushed against the woman’s skin, and she realised belatedly that Rachel hadn’t been wearing gloves after all! The tingling grew more intense, Rachel’s grip becoming utterly unrelenting.

“Don’t you want to take care of me?” Rachel whispered, “To tell me what to do?”

Aeryn tried to break free, to get away from the nightmare she had invited into her home. But it was no use, as the girl was just too strong, and that remorseless buzzing was really starting to get to her. It hummed through her thoughts, and left her wondering if all this really was as bad as she’d supposed.

“What’s the matter?” Rachel sighed, her breath hot and sweet, “You’re not thinking of breaking your promise, are you?”

She pressed her palms tightly against Aeryn’s temples, sending little pulses flowing into the woman’s brain. Rachel felt the flames clawing at her, too … white hot tongues that wrapped around her spine and squeezed. Their eyes rolled back, and both women arched and squealed. Recovering just a little, back bowed, Rachel tensed her muscles and began to pull Aeryn down gently. She parted her thighs, drawing the woman in toward the eager heat of her swollen sex.

“Please,” the woman begged, weakly.

“I know,” Rachel smiled, just before crushing herself into the woman’s face, “Don’t fret, Aeryn; Pet will make sure you fulfil your obligations.”

Whatever response Aeryn might have made was lost in the muffling depths of Rachel’s controlling cunt. Mirror bright juices oozed over her, drooling in slippery silver strands that clung and changed. The cyborg ground herself into those lax lips, ruthlessly humping her seeping seam against Aeryn’s mouth and tongue, taking everything she needed, knowing somehow this was exactly what she had to do, now.

There hadn’t really been anything the doctor could add to what had been said already. Beverly had been through so many tests and investigations that there seemed no part of her that hadn’t been plumbed or probed. However, that didn’t seem to stop them from trying to heap new indignities upon her. In the end, the doctor had been forced to admit that, physically, there was nothing wrong with her. Psychologically, was another matter entirely, but Beverly was savvy enough not to admit to anything potentially incriminating.

Peterson seemed reassured by the medical report, although apparently not enough to allow her to do her job. Beverly cursed the small-mindedness of civil servants. What was the point of recalling her to active duty, and then not allowing her out of the office? Irritably, she prowled the building, peering over the technoweenies’ shoulders. Beverly wasn’t sure exactly what she was searching for, but she needed to keep busy.

“What’s that?” she asked one of the researchers, staring at the waterfall display that painted his monitor.

The young man jumped, startled by her unexpected question, but Beverly wasn’t paying any attention to him anymore. Her eyes had locked onto the pattern, and she was feeling the first faint stirrings of déjà vu. Something warm and wet curled sinuously around her throat, making it suddenly hard to breathe. Her skin tingled, tiny needles of fire and frost biting angrily into her yielding flesh.

“Probably just an artefact,” the man admitted after a moment, “It’s way outside the plot.”

“No,” Beverly said flatly, “That’s mesh talk. When did this show up and, more importantly, where?”

“That’s impossible,” he blustered, “It’s just a glitch.”

She shook her head angrily, then flicked open the folder lying on his desk. Her finger tapped irritably against the recordings of Eve’s EEG traces. The researcher stared at the strangely familiar image, his eyes flickering nervously between the decades old photograph and the frequencies scrolling down his computer screen in sickening waves.

“Get Peterson,” she suggested quietly, “He needs to see this, and we need to move the search area.”

The Director barely glanced at the monitor before turning the full weight of his disapproval towards them. The flush of annoyance darkened his face still further, and each word splashed spittle over both Beverly and her erstwhile ally.

“Where did this come from?” Peterson asked angrily.

“It’s outside the plot,” the researcher admitted, “That’s why we missed it at first.”

“But it’s her,” Beverly told them. “Look at the tracings.”

To her surprise, Peterson nodded. The veins in his temples never stopped throbbing, and sweat beaded his forehead, but he seemed to be agreeing with her assessment. Then, he reached up and massaged the ruddy flesh around his eye. The Director appeared to deflate, shoulders slumping and quite suddenly looking incredibly tired.

“Okay, Watch,” he sighed, “I can’t spare anyone else, we’re overstretched as it is. But you two just made my shitlist. I’m sure Perkins here will be happy to handle you once you get out in the field. Go and get eyeballs on the target, and if your hunch pays off, we’ll send in the Special Forces. Oh, and Watch … this time, don’t fuck up.”

“Yes, Dick,” she hissed, “I’m touched by your concern.”

Then, before he could respond, she slipped out of the room, slamming the door shut as she left. After stopping briefly at the armoury, she headed down to the underground car park to requisition a vehicle. Throughout it all, Perkins was a constant irritation through the earpiece, his monologue fuelled almost entirely by his anxieties.

The drive across town was frustratingly slow; traffic conspired to turn the relatively brief journey into nothing short of torture for her. But at least she was out in the field, even if her backup left an awful lot to be desired.

Beverly tried to ignore the tiny voice that wondered whether this was exactly how she wanted it. After all, hadn’t she fantasised often enough about placing herself entirely in Eve’s hands? And what better way to achieve that end than to rush into a potential encounter with the renegade cyborg without a team to support her, or even mount a rescue attempt, should it come to that?

She couldn’t decide what Eve was playing at. The signal was too far from Northwood for there to be any chance of a direct connection, and it just continued, as if she were somehow daring them to find her. And yet, despite that, it still didn’t smell like a trap, even if Beverly had to admit that her instincts were at least suspect in that regard.

There weren’t any parking spaces nearby, but she didn’t really want to advertise her presence, just in case. Beverly tapped the push-to-talk button twice in quick succession, letting Perkins know that she was going mobile, and then set off on foot, cutting through the centre of Pinner Park and trying, unsuccessfully, to ignore the growing feeling of sexual tension.

The target house was unremarkable, with the exception of the abundant pampas grass that decorated the small garden. Nothing appeared out of place, but as she moved closer, she could feel something buzzing unsettlingly into the base of her brain. Beverly hadn’t felt anything like that since, well … not since before she left the service.

“This is definitely the place,” she breathed, “I’m getting all kinds of resonance.”

“Stand down,” Perkins gasped, “I’ll tell the Director.”

“No,” she replied quickly, “He wanted me to get eyes on target, and so far all I’ve got is feminine intuition. I’m going silent and going in. It’s time to give Peterson what he asked for.”

“Wait,” the researcher managed, before she killed the connection.

Taking a deep breath, Beverly began to slowly circle the town house. Vibrations set her teeth on edge, and made the old scar burn hot enough for the fantasy to return. She was surprised to find the back door ajar, having expected to need to force an entrance. Still, her gut refused to believe this was a setup, and she was finding it increasingly difficult to care if it was or not.

As she stepped across the threshold, static danced over her body, and there was a moment of resistance, as though she were pushing against an invisible barrier. Then she was through, residual sparks tingling deliciously over ever inch of bare skin. The earpiece fizzed alarmingly, and she tore it hurriedly from her head as the whine of feedback drilled into her skull. Beverly’s hand had already closed around the grip of her sidearm, pulling it from its holster, but the efficient weight of the pistol wasn’t nearly reassuring enough.

She’d replayed this scene so many times—her all alone, just waiting for that first icy caress as the needle slipped home once again … the warm smoothness of those perfect chrome hands touching her, and that voice, whispering with such intimacy that her body was responding even before the crystal bit into her brain. Beverly shivered, trying to shunt aside her growing arousal. She had to stay focussed, at least until she discovered what was happening here.

She let her annoyance at her own weakness tighten her fingers a little further, and tried to banish all extraneous thoughts as she moved deeper into the house.

The backdoor had led simply to a set of stairs up to the main floor of the building and they creaked ominously as she climbed. She winced with each footfall, as tension crept across her shoulders, knotting the muscles into aching cords that she dare not stretch out. She swept up onto the landing, then through an open door into a short hallway, and just like that, stealth became the least of her problems.

Someone had painted the walls with a thick argent wash that still crawled and seeped as Beverly watched. Against them, slender cables writhed in place, and to her horror, she realised they were pulsating hideously, throbbing to a rhythm she couldn’t quite perceive. It was like nothing she had ever seen, and yet the liquid, almost organic nature of the silver growth, was unmistakable.

She’d read the after-action reports, after all … had memorised them, in fact. There had been little enough to fill her days while she was recuperating at Headley Court, the service rehab centre where they had put her back together … afterwards.It was where she’d taught her body how to move again, once they’d cut the fragment out of her spine.

Steeling herself, she stepped closer, following the slithering tendrils, for the first time noticing the faint sounds emanating from what must be a bedroom just to the right down the hallway. It was definitely a human voice, soft and plaintive, its harmonics buzzing behind her eyes, even as its pleading quality tugged at her in a much more visceral manner.

The carpet squelched wetly beneath her feet, shifting in a most alarming way. It took only a moment for her to realise that every step seemed to increase both the quantity and quality of those futile moans. Beverly swallowed hard, and pushed nervously at the door. It swung inwards, opening with a moist sucking sound. She stifled her gasp as the room beyond was revealed.

Although she had already known what she was going find, the reality of it was far beyond anything the dry military report had suggested.

Circuitry glistened beneath coiled cables, shivering strangely and flickering with its own inner light. Whereas the hall had merely dripped with silver strands, here the walls were literally plastered with new growth. That was bad enough, but now Beverly found her eyes inexorably drawn to the centre of the intricate webwork of shimmering strands.

There wasn’t much of the unknown woman still visible beneath the clinging silver coating that engulfed most of her, but what could be seen left little doubt that she was entirely naked beneath. Cabling emerged from that thin metallic shell, wrapping itself almost hungrily around her body. The air was heavy with ozone, as well as the scent of arousal. Beverly stared, unable to look away, while one section of tubing sucked avidly at an exposed breast, nursing the thick nipple as it pulled on the heavy flesh.

The captive’s face was sheathed in crystal, steel and quartz wrapping around the woman’s throat, and then forming a glittering mask that concealed and clung. Through it, Beverly caught a glimpse of full lips, pouting provocatively as the woman gasped. Electricity cavorted across her tanned skin, leaping from collared throat to glistening groin in a series of exquisite, scintillating sparks.

Passion poured from the captive woman, dribbling hotly onto the sensitive core of Beverly’s suddenly needy mind. It was impossible not to imagine what she must be experiencing, and that was even before the full strength of those sensations began to wash back through the crystal, itself. Pipes slid lewdly into every orifice, ravishing the trapped, straining body while its owner could only hang there and moan. The woman nuzzled gleefully at the thick tube wrapped around her slender throat, while writhing on the tips of its double-headed twin.

More sensations crashed into Beverly, as the woman continued to helplessly radiate her need. The echo of a hundred clever tongues reverberated through Beverly’s nervous system, teasing her body with simulated arousal. The frozen ember shivered; its carapace cracking and letting heat spill down the length of her spine. She clutched desperately at the nape of her neck, unable to decide if this was real or simply another insane imagining.

She swung the pistol upward, trying to ignore how badly her arms were trembling. Her clothing seemingly no protection at all, pleasure caressed her nipples, bathing them in flames, the touch so sharp that it was almost pain. The barrel of her weapon swam in and out of focus and quite suddenly, a needle of pure, molten agony transfixed her straining clit and the weapon slipped from her suddenly numb fingers. Beverly bit her lip so hard that she could taste blood, fighting not to give voice to the scream welling up inside her.

She stood there, paralysed with pain and pleasure, struggling not to drop to her knees as the woman’s eyes finally snapped open.

“Help me,” the woman moaned, “Please, I can’t …”

Her voice trailed off, lost in a series of breathless gasps. Beverly’s knees finally buckled, dropping her to the floor while the heat gnawed at her sopping cuntlips. Blindly, she shoved out her hand, trying to brace herself, the acid fog of compulsive arousal threatening to consume her. It only got worse, though, as her palm unerringly found the slippery warmth of one succulently imprisoned breast, her fingers closing convulsively, instinctively, around the sweetness of that perfect, ripe globe.

They both hissed delightedly, only dimly aware of the cables that slithered around their tight-pressed bodies. Beverly could feel the constant hum growing in intensity, and she squeezed harder, letting her nail bite deliciously into that swollen flesh. The buzz from the woman became more insistent, responding to Beverly’s attention. And, as her free hand slid languidly down the captive’s sweat-drenched body, searching for the pipes that impaled her succulent sex, it all seemed to reach a crescendo.

Determined to help them both, pumping the heavy tubing back and forth, Beverly began to ruthlessly fuck the captive woman’s helpless cunt, feeling every stroke reciprocated in the depths of her own quivering pussy. Joy flooded her body, bubbling forth in ecstatic whimpers. The flames burnt into her brain, roaring higher with every brutal thrust. She had given up trying to understand what was happening, the rational part of her mind having shut down almost as soon as she saw the woman wrapped in her silver cocoon.

The more her mind seemed to fade, the louder and more omnipresent the buzzing became. It filled her head now, displacing everything else. Beverly was ready to scream, wanted to scream, lost in the throes of her induced lust.

But that was when the buzz began to resolve itself into thoughts and images, into things more concrete than the passions tearing at her. Lightning flashed and clawed at her; dazzlingly bright, it wreathed her in a silent halo, as it sought out the link that could bind them irrevocably together.

“I can’t take any more!” the woman’s voice rang through her mind, “Stop it, Rachel, please, make it stop.”

“Yes, you can,” came Eve’s soothing reply, softened in memory but still enough to make Beverly groan. “Like this, you can take care of me forever and ever, Aeryn. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it; that’s what you promised me?

But don’t worry. As you become more like me, all those silly fears and prejudices will just melt away.”

The urge to simply agree with Eve, to become just like … Aeryn … was almost completely overpowering. But it seemed the surgeons had been as good as their word, and the lightning storm swirling around Beverly’s mind could find nothing to latch onto. Weakly, Beverly pushed away from the tormented woman, slipping her hands from the other’s sweaty, helpless body. Her fingers unclenched from where they had held the piping, leaving them dripping with the evidence of Aeryn’s enforced arousal.

The tendrils tried to hold on, twisting around her arms and legs. Beverly tugged, and the cables simply gave up the fight. They already had their true prey, anyway, and compared to that she’d been no more than an appetiser. Almost as though emphasising the point, the webwork constricted, completely ignoring Beverly and pinning its original charge even more securely in place. The tendril around Aeryn’s throat pulled taut, while its tip moved to press itself between her dark red lips.

“Where is she, Aeryn?” Beverly asked quietly, leaning forward to whisper into the other woman’s ear, “What’s Eve doing?”

Aeryn didn’t speak, but her reply was still clear enough, the clarity of that new tongue searing the knowledge directly into Beverly’s dizzied brain. Lust still had its hooks in her, but those were tearing free under the strain of understanding.

They’d killed the mesh over a decade ago, and so the ever industrious Eve had just gone and made herself a new one …

Aeryn moved feebly in her silver prison, her confusion and need so clear as she alternated between thrusting towards and withdrawing from, Beverly’s hastily relinquished touch. Still, they stared into the other’s eyes, and it took all of her remaining strength for Beverly not to take Aeryn in her hands once more.

“Don’t leave me,” Aeryn whined, her plea echoing another, earlier conversation.

“I can’t,” Eve had told her, each syllable dripping with slippery promise, “no anymore. We’re a pair now, you and I … two peas in a pod. And when I find them, we can all be together, just like before.”

“Find who,” Beverly wondered, mirroring Aeryn’s own question. “Who are you looking for?”

“My family,” Eve sighed, and the ache that flavoured those simple words sang clearly through the buzzing communication.

Beverly bent over and retrieved her discarded pistol. She knew exactly what she should do, and knew it was the same thing that Aeryn wanted, the other woman’s desires so clear to her. But it wasn’t as simple as that now, because this was no longer just some piece of technology, it was a living, breathing woman, with a name.

Her hands were shaking so badly she nearly fumbled the handgun, again. But she hung on, trying to get her breathing back under control. Beverly closed her eyes, assessing the situation and willed herself to do the right thing. The problem was that, under the circumstances, she couldn’t decide what that actually was.

But, looking at Aeryn like this, one ‘certainty’ suddenly seemed less concrete.

The truth of the matter was, even without the risk of dangerous, life-threatening feedback, she no longer knew whether she could simply kill this woman … could kill Aeryn … or not.