The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Rachel wanted to scream, and her frustration grew with every thwarted attempt. She knew that the information was there, it simply had to be. The rows of filing cabinets were just so easy to picture, and yet no matter how hard she looked, they remained stubbornly beyond her reach. There were just too many holes in her mind, too much emptiness that she had no way of filling. She tried, over and over, but her strongest efforts were simply inadequate.

They had called her Eve, that much she had discovered. But she knew that wasn’t her real name. She kept reaching out, desperately trying to replace what she had lost, and yet everything she leaned upon seemed to fracture under the unnatural weight of her needs. First the mesh, then her other self, and finally Aeryn. None of them had been equal to the task, but that hadn’t stopped her from trying to make them better. Because in the end, flawed as they had been, she knew none of them were as damaged as she was, herself.

She clutched at her memories, finding only fragments. Each image was frozen, sealed into another facet of her crystalline heart. But, the more she stared, the more she tried to hold onto something from ‘before’, the less certain everything became. The past was disjointed, an undulating ribbon that had knotted itself into unnecessarily intricate patterns. Some things were so clear, so vibrant and alive. The mesh, her protocols, how to survive no matter what. But everything else was washed out, grey and somehow hollow.

Staring into the blank, featureless faces of her parents, she found herself contemplating an understanding previously too terrible to even imagine. And, as soon as that thought had surfaced, there was no chance of putting it down …

It was all a lie, everything from before. That was why she could find no traces, why she foundered and why it was so very important for the cyborg to have someone. None of it was real, she wasn’t real, it was all just a legend, a convenient truth that crumbled when you began to examine it too deeply.

But, as the crystals lodged inside her brain continued to spin, another image leaped forth, blazing with a clarity that was painful to behold. A soft drumbeat punctuated the memory, while warm ripples flowed through a viscous sea, and bubbles rose languidly before her eyes. She gazed into another face, so similar to her own and yet subtly different. Her heart pounded, matching the rhythm that defined her world, and a name tripped hesitantly towards her tongue.

“Lilith …”

“Aeryn,” Beverly asked as her fingers stroked delicately against warm crystal and hotter skin, voice so low it was barely a whisper, “This is very important; I need you to be quiet for me. Do you understand? You have to stop talking to Eve, or other people will come looking and I won’t be able to protect you.”

She stared into the depths of the other woman’s eyes, pushing very gently at her dazed mind. The back of Beverly’s skull felt ready to explode, but the pressure wasn’t painful … quite the contrary, in fact. The hotter it burnt, the better she felt. She didn’t understand how it was happening, but the results were undeniable. Somehow a connection had grown between her and Eve’s new mesh even though that should have been impossible.

Her hands never left the captive woman’s cheeks, as they stood frozen for a long moment. The bizarre mixture of synthetic and organic continued to expand, wrapping Aeryn in an increasingly tighter cocoon, and quite reflexively, Beverly found herself smoothing away the other woman’s panic. Something shifted, as Aeryn’s attention suddenly switched, and Beverly’s thoughts were filled with the discordant babble of mesh talk.

“Good girl,” she sighed, listening intently as the signal faded and then finally died. “Rest now, Aeryn. Sleep, and let me do all the worrying for you.”

Aeryn’s eyes grew blank and glassy, while a single tear rolled down the inside of her crystal mask. Then, she slumped in her bonds, head lolling for a moment against her chrome-shrouded breasts, before the metal flowed hungrily over what little exposed flesh remained. Beverly could still feel the pleasure boiling beneath that mirrored surface, but was left with only an impression of the woman herself. Just a bass-relief sculpture formed from quicksilver and living crystal.

Beverly turned her back on Aeryn, as if afraid she would somehow sense her weakness. She had bought the woman some time, but that was all. As soon as Peterson discovered what had happened, the Special Forces team would come and cleanse the site. But the more she thought about that necessity, the less sense it all made; the timeline just didn’t square with the official story.

Recognised wisdom was that the mesh had been responsible for Eve’s actions, and that was why it had to be destroyed. So far so simple, and yet, as with so many things, that simplicity didn’t stand up to even the most cursory examination. Eve had stood down, before the mesh was killed, when Dr. Foreman had managed to talk her into accepting cryogenic storage.

Couldn’t all the problems they were having now be explained away because of its destruction? And, if that were the case, shouldn’t they be doing everything in their power to keep this new mesh up and running? Of course, if that was the case, she’d just done the very worst thing possible, even though she had been motivated by the best of intentions.

She remembered. As if that one name had been the key that unlocked her memories. Two bodies, so close they seemed to merge and meld. Thoughts entwined, making it a struggle to know where one ended and the other began. Not Lilith, as that was simply the name they’d chosen for her, but Karen … Karen, her sister, who had been so pale and beautiful without the cold steel that drove others away.

Even before the decanting they had been in each other’s heads, speaking so clearly through that omnipresent hum. Nothing else was real; her parents, her past, none of it any more than a cruel lie. There was only the pair of them, twin souls that shared more than simple genetics. And, at the end, when it had all started to unravel, it had been Karen’s voice urging her to accept what they offered … to sleep, waiting until they could understand just what they were playing with.

Fresh faces flashed through her mind, Polaroid moments that stammered out her history in jerky confusion. She couldn’t fit names to any of them, but her emotions knew them well enough. Anger melted into irritation, the molten recollection tinged with strands of pity and something that wasn’t quite love.

Rachel pulled the coat a little more tightly around her, nestling her face in the warmth of the high collar. She didn’t know where she was going, but it seemed important to keep moving. There was the faintest of echoes out there in the ether, something familiar and yet almost entirely unexpected. The mesh whispered caution, but Aeryn’s horror still blotted out almost everything else.

That fear peaked, suddenly, lashing her with primitive fight-flight impulses. The cyborg was left stunned, trying unsuccessfully to decipher the increasingly random notes. There was a moment of disconnection, followed, quite unexpectedly, by a crescendo of unadulterated sexual pleasure.

The mesh screamed its release, hammering at her with its growing need. Then, just as the mesh talk roared through her mind, batting away her doubts and leaving them smothered under a blanket of reciprocal lust, the buzzing began to soften, and fade. And, just like that, it was gone, the entire connection was gone, leaving her once more utterly and hideously alone.

Leaving the woman behind, even in her quiescent state, left a bad taste in Beverly’s mouth. It might have been expedient, but that didn’t make it any more palatable. At some point, she would need to deal with the consequences of her actions, but for the moment her priority was still to track down Eve and stop her from causing any more damage.

“Perkins,” she asked, slotting the still-warm earpiece back in place as soon as she passed through the static barrier, “Still with me?”

“I could ask you the same question,” the researcher chided, his relief very obvious, “I was just about to send in the cavalry. What happened, and more importantly, are your okay?”

“Wild goose chase,” she lied easily, “Whatever happened here, we missed it.”

“Oh?” Perkins wondered, and his tone suggested that he didn’t believe a word of it. “The signal died just before you came back on and I assumed that was your doing.”

“No,” Beverly said, wincing at his intuition. “Must’ve just been a coincidence.”

“Right,” he allowed her, this time leaving her in no doubt that he wasn’t buying it.

“Perkins, I need you look back over the files for me,” she continued, quickly. “The only thing I did learn was that Eve’s still on this hunt for her family. I need to know if there are any records, and better yet, whether any of them are still alive.”

“Are you coming back in?” he asked after a moment.

“I wasn’t planning to,” she admitted, “There are still some more leads I need to follow up. Why, is there a problem?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Perkins said softly, “Peterson was looking for you, and he wants an update on what you’ve found.”

“Shit!” she hissed.

“Quite,” the researcher agreed, “And, Watch … don’t bullshit him, if I can tell you’re lying, then pretty much anyone can.”

“Thank you,” Beverly breathed, before adding somewhat unkindly, “Now, stop showing off and go find me those records.”

Aeryn was gone, abandoning her to the darkness once more. Anger rose up, strangling Rachel’s despair and leaving only white hot rage. Why did everyone abandon her in the end? Why must she always be alone? And then, as if coaxed back to wakefulness by the pain, her other self added its own suggestions to the flailing mix of emotions, reminding her of truths best left entirely forgotten.

“Karen,” she breathed, and it all became so clear.

Rachel could now sense the hand of another in the burst of fear and then the sweeter taste of unbridled passion that had preceded Aeryn’s sudden absence. That someone lurked just beyond her perception, stealing what was hers, and trying to condemning her to the empty oblivion of this lonely existence. That knowledge angered her, yes, but was not the source of her hatred, not the reason she felt that loathing rise and soar.

The other was prodding her, leading her to the sealed parts of her mind, and offering their dark secrets to replace what the ice had already taken. There was nothing else to grab onto, no conflicting impulses or alternatives. Faced with such a skewed choice, she took the devil’s option, letting the machine simply shatter her mental blocks and force her to gaze in mute horror at the true enormity of just what she was.

Of what she hadn’t been.

This was why she had needed a legend, and why all those memories of her family had been empty and vague. Locked inside her own mind, Rachel stared out through the boiling fluids of her artificial womb, clinging desperately to her equally artificial twin and finally understood.

They had made her, made them both, using knowledge that was not theirs to begin with.

Both unfinished, and incomplete, together they had formed a synergistic whole. Rachel had played her part, becoming their Eve, a weapon with which to defeat their enemies, enemies that had long since gone. All that, while Karen had stayed behind; as Lilith, her better half, her conscience and her love. And for that service, for pulling her back from the brink, when the other had wanted Eve simply to be the weapon they had created her to be, the bastards had killed her.

A chill, far deeper than the cryogenics had ever managed, gripped her and she let the machine take hold. There was nothing left for her here, no reason to resist, to even exist, any longer, and no family to mourn her passing. Her other self used that unfocussed rage, forging it into steely determination. Rachel looked out over the city, really seeing it for the first time. Her eyes alighted on an unfamiliar structure near the Thames, and quite suddenly she knew what had to be done.

They had fashioned her to be the perfect weapon, and now, the fruits of their labours were coming home to roost. The cyborg’s hands tightened into clenched silver fists, and she abandoned the last vestiges of her humanity. Rachel faded quietly into the background, leaving Eve to finish what had she started all those years before.

The file was still cold, its faded surface flecked with mildew. Warning notices glared out at her, as if their strident words would somehow dissuade someone who had already gone to the trouble of finding it. Beverly didn’t want to open the folder, and yet she knew this was the only way to get the answers she sought.

“Where did you find this?” she asked, staring across at Perkins with new-found respect.

“There’s a room full of cabinets,” the researcher explained, “down in one of the sub-basements. Most people don’t go there anymore, so security is pretty light. So no problem unless you try to take one of the files outside the building. But not everything made the transition to computer, and sometimes if you really want to know what happened, it pays to do it the old-fashioned way.”

Beverly stifled a laugh, before realising she had just found the courage she needed. The pages were yellowed, but the close-typed words were still legible. Almost as soon as she started to read, she could see that the reports weren’t complete. But they painted a clear enough picture, dating all the way back to the tail end of 1980.

“Have you read this?” Beverly asked after a moment, her fingers loitering over one particular entry.

“Not all of it,” Perkins admitted, “But enough … for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

She didn’t respond, but the pages began to move once more as she worked her way through this sordid piece of history, and the part that she and the others had played in it. She hadn’t thought that her hatred for Peterson could grow any stronger, but flicking through the cracked papers only served to prove her wrong.

“This is our fault,” she told him, snapping the file shut and letting it drop back onto the desk. “We did this. It was not some stupid accident.”

“I don’t quite follow,” the research said nervously.

“Eve didn’t just wake up by accident,” Beverly explained, “That’s not how the system was designed. This time somebody woke her up on purpose.”

“But who …?” Perkins began.

“Peterson!” she snarled back over her shoulder, already halfway out of the door.

“It was a dead end then?” the Director asked, archly, as Beverly stormed, unbidden, into his office.

She grimaced, recognising the irony colouring Peterson’s words. The earlier annoyance at being summoned had dissipated under the weight of her discovery, but it was clear that Perkin’s concerns had been well-founded. Steeling herself against his derision, Beverly went on the offensive. She already knew some of it, certainly more than she was supposed to, but in order to end this, she needed to know it all.

“What is she?” Beverly asked, as she dropped heavily into one of the antique chairs.

“It’s not a person,” Peterson snapped, “It’s just a construct, and a defective one at that.”

“Then why is it searching for a family it couldn’t possibly have known?” Beverly pressed.

“Because that was the fantasy we imprinted it on,” the Director explained, “Eve’s chasing ghosts, Watch, and we need to find and neutralise it before any more damage is done. If it detonates here, in the city, the results will be nothing short of catastrophic.”

“And Eve’s sister?” she wondered quietly.

“Ah,” he grimaced, “There’s a reason those files are restricted, Watch, but then you never really were one for rules and regulations, were you? The second construct is defunct, as I’m sure you already know.”

Beverly felt the anger rising into her throat. The casual way in which he dismissed her concerns made her want to scream, or to lash out. She had looked into Aeryn’s eyes, as the woman was subsumed into the mesh and knew that it had in no way diminished her humanity.

“What I know, you sick bastard,” she hissed, “is that we took two little girls and stuck bits of that thing you dug up at Rendlesham into them. I don’t care if they were grown in vats, they were as human as you or I. Although, in your case, that might not be saying much.”

“Touché,” Peterson smiled coldly. “But isn’t it a little late in the day for you to start developing a conscience? Eve and Lilith were necessary evils, and now their time has passed. Our only mistake was thinking we could control something we didn’t properly understand, ignoring the fact that it was certain to have an agenda of its own.”

“So, why did you wake her up again?” Beverly asked, with deceptive gentleness.

For the first time since she’d known him, the Director was speechless. They glared at each other for a long moment, and it was all she could do to fight down the urge to hit him. The only thing that kept her from doing just that was the certainty that once she’d started, one punch wouldn’t be nearly enough.

“You were wrong. She’s too dangerous,” she explained, as though to a small child, “Foreman knew that, and so did Eve, that’s why she let him freeze her in the first place. She’s not some tool you can use, Dick, and you better pray she doesn’t do any more damage. Now keep out of my way, and let me do my job.

“Because right now, I’m the only one who can clean up your fucking mess!”

The grenade detonated with a soft pop, flinging a cloud of glittering needles outwards. Shoppers fell, clutching impotently at the burning shards that thrust their way through clothing and upheld hands, unable, or quickly unwilling, to remove them before their nervous systems were subverted by the crystal matrix. Oxford Street was being taken, one store at a time, and for the moment no one was any the wiser. Smiling, Rachel plucked another fist-sized lump of quartz from her body, waited a moment for the soft mineral to solidify, and then hurled it into the next dressing room.

Several women had taken shelter inside, the store’s staff huddling there with the customers who had only wanted to try on their purchases. They had an instant to recognise their looming fate before the shards pierced their all too soft flesh, too, and their world fractured into a kaleidoscope of half-seen lies, long-denied desires, and insincere promises.

Her other self knew what they needed, and Rachel was now happy to let her metallic, more coldly calculating and dispassionate self, guide her. But whereas before she had railed against the destruction, trying desperately to rein in her silver twin’s voracious inhumanity, now she pushed, egging it on to even greater excess.

They had taken away everything she’d ever cared about, and now she would return the favour.

Just a few more willing victims and they would be ready. Rachel could feel how the effort was draining her as each transformation stole another piece of who she had been. But it didn’t matter anymore, just so long as she could hang on until the end. The image of some great, perfect wheel spun through her thoughts, dragging her ever downwards, and she willed herself to go on.

One of the salesgirls whimpered at her touch, those frightened, aroused sounds dragging Rachel’s thoughts back to the here and now. Her victim’s resistance meant nothing though as silver filaments dribbled over hot skin, flowing from the cyborg’s hands in steadily thickening streams. Rachel … no, Eve … painted her victim, letting the metal smother any vestiges of resistance. Then, as the girl’s mouth opened in a silent, ecstatic scream, Eve poured herself into that yawning emptiness, remaking the shuddering, arching girl, within and without.

They were going to hang her out to dry, Beverly knew, even before her altercation with the Director. That was her role, after all, wasn’t it … to take the blame if something went wrong, and to step back into the shadows and let other, more deserving, people take the credit if she somehow averted disaster. But none of that would matter if Eve managed to succeed this second time around.

She sat in her borrowed corner office, trying to sort out this entire mess. In truth, barely more than a broom cupboard, the small room still made a private, quiet place for her to try to reach out for the waiting hardness of Aeryn’s mind. It shouldn’t have been possible, but Beverly simply shunted aside that unhelpful knowledge and let her thoughts stretch and search. At first there was nothing, not even echoes to hide the mocking laughter of her own subconscious as it reminded Beverly that it had ‘told her so’.

But she could still feel the scalding flames licking at the nape of her neck, and imagine the taste of Aeryn’s smoothly contained flesh. The memory helped, drawing her back into the mesh’s orbit, just moments before her straining senses were drawn too thin for her to feel anything. Drifting and searching, Beverly’s thoughts brushed against the sleeping woman’s, stirring both of them back to wakefulness with the softest of caresses.

“Rachel?” The thought bled into her mind, filled with despair and longing.

“No, love,” Beverly whispered in return, stroking very softly and soothing away some of the pain, “It’s Beverly, and I need you to help me again.”

Aeryn’s need wrapped around her, stifling and choking in its intensity, but Beverly willed herself to accept it ... to accept it, contain it, and then move on. Unnoticed, her fingers slid delicately over her jeans, pressing the soft fabric and mimicking the captive woman’s psychosomatic humps and grinds. Lust coiled protectively around their thoughts, binding the two women together despite the distance, as they began to mirror one another almost perfectly.

“I need to find her,” Beverly groaned, working her finger against button flies, and feeling the thrust of those impaling tubes. “She has to be stopped.”

She could picture Aeryn, sliding even more deeply into her shiny cocoon, and knew the woman was losing herself to the machine. Soon she would be no more than a memory, a tight ball of constant sexual bliss that served only as a framework for the mesh itself. But for the moment at least, she was still fighting it, and even as the crystal lattice began to close around her increasingly sluttish core, Aeryn tried to make her lifeline, her Beverly, understand.

For an instant, Beverly could see the wheel and recognised the image spinning through Eve’s thoughts. Then, just as suddenly, an irresistible tide of emotion simply washed everything else away. It seemed the cyborg had felt the mesh coming back online, and ruthlessly tried to purge Beverly’s intruding consciousness. Aeryn’s defiant, more human cry reverberated through her mind, resonating so violently in the base of her brain that she almost passed out.

But even in that wordless scream, the message had been clear. With the last of her strength, Aeryn had chosen to sleep, losing herself rather than become nothing more than a tool in a game she didn’t begin to understand.

A jolt of confused and corrupted data surged into her, making the cyborg flinch away from the half-naked woman on whom she’d been lavishing such attention. The mesh touched her for just an instant, pillaging her thoughts and unravelling her dreams in a heated syrup that both soothed and caressed.

But there was something else there as well, something alien and entirely unwelcome.

Eve felt this other presence, recognising something of its salty sweetness from before. Old memories fought to be heard, neurones melting and failing. Mute apoptosis, cellular suicide that stripped away even more as she struggled to understand.

Angrily, her other self lashed out, sweeping away this invader, while she sought solace in the warm safety of Aeryn’s digital bosom. The intruder fled, losing coherence almost immediately, but it was destined to be no more than a pyrrhic victory.

Aeryn’s scream shook the mesh, making the construct wail in shock and fear. More broken data flowed back and forth, sliding inexorably through Eve’s groping fingers. Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the signal was gone.

The cyborg matched the mesh’s keening cries, sinking quicksilver fingers deep into the woman’s captive flesh. The change was not gentle, as new crystal burst forth, eager to claim its latest convert. Eve pressed harder, forcing the woman to squeal, a cry that was immediate taken up by all the others, forming a whimpering chorus of abject and total surrender.

Her muscles tensed in delicious expectation, and she had to fight the growing urge to touch. New flames had caught and burned deep inside, more changes that pushed her towards her inevitable end. Her network was almost complete, and by the time it was in place, she too would be ready to take her place at the head of it.

Desire lapped hungrily at her sweaty core of hate-fuelled lust, and it just continued to build. Just for a moment, she considered doing it then and there. But it simply wasn’t enough. They needed to pay, and not just for what they had done to her. Karen deserved so much more, and Eve wasn’t going to disappoint her. No, she wasn’t going to go out with whimper, but with a bang so loud the entire world would hear.