The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

XXX4

Tags: bd, ff, mc

Tonight one trainee will be chosen to serve the Organisation. But, when the final, practical exam puts them in direct competition with each other, the friends and rivals discover the lengths to which they are prepared to go in their quest for promotion.

Chapter One: Consequences

The four women stood and stared at the Processor, trying not to look impressed. Standing well over four-stories high, its composite shell filled the vast, hanger-like chamber. And each of them was very well aware that this represented only a small fraction of the device’s bulk.

At the end of the day, this was the reason they were all here. It was the sole motivation for the extremes to which they had pushed themselves throughout the last three months and, tonight, one of them would be chosen.

Of course, the Organisation weren’t beyond a little practical and instructive demonstration when the need arose. It was difficult to make sense of the struggling woman’s screams as she was herded toward the gigantic ceramic sphere. But the Overseer was happy to provide a running commentary.

“Sadly, as you can see,” the emotionless voice explained. “Trainee Operative Rose will not be taking part in final selection. It seems your colleague owes her allegiance to another Agency and I’m afraid that will cost her. But, it will, hopefully, provide a salutary lesson to the rest of you.”

Three, brightly polished orbs menaced the clearly terrified woman, buzzing around their dishevelled charge and shepherding her ever closer to the machine’s yawning ‘mouth’. All of them recognised the Hunters. The women had encountered the evil devices throughout their training, but always with the understanding that it would be on the basis of ‘catch and release’.

From the look on Rose’s face, it was clear that the young Mauritian felt no such confidence.

“Naturally, standard procedure is for the subject to be subdued before they reach this point,” the Overseer continued. “But it was decided that in this very special case, Trainee Operative Rose should be able to enjoy the full enormity of the process.”

Slowly but surely, the dark-skinned woman was being driven back. The orbs reacted with preternatural speed, cutting off any hope of escape before it was born. Their weapon pods were closed, but the silent threat of each Hunter’s swirling hypnodisc was more than enough to keep Rose on the defensive.

“As you can see,” the digital voice explained dispassionately, “the subject has been manoeuvred into the optimum position and now all that remains is for the Hunters to administer their coup de grace.”

A pulse of lurid, green light flashed in the darkness, causing all but Kate to flinch away from the observation window. But the hypnodisc was a directional weapon and the edges of its flare weren’t strong enough to do more than momentarily daze the trainees.

Rose, however, took the full force of the pulses. Her arms immediately dropped to her sides and her eyes grew wide and glassy. She swayed slightly in place, but otherwise stood stock-still, apparently paralysed.

“Rose,” the Overseer’s magnified voice echoed through the chamber. “Such is the price of betrayal!”

A bundle of slender metal tendrils seemed to explode from the Processor, separating into separate strands as they flashed toward the stationary woman. Flexible cables coiled around each of her limbs. The remainder encircled her waist and then tugged.

The captive stumbled backward, catching her heel on the edge of the Processor’s aperture. She teetered for a moment, but made no attempt to regain her balance. And then, she began to tumble backwards, as though moving in slow motion.

She disappeared into the dark opening, sliding down into the depths of the machine. Her fate was now sealed. No one emerged from the Processor without being changed and none of the women doubted that Rose’s fate would be particularly cruel.

“How terrible,” murmured Miriam, her face unnaturally pale. “Do you think she was really some sort of spy?”

“I don’t know,” Angelica admitted, still peering down into the chamber as though she might catch a glimpse of what was happening.

“Who cares?” Kate laughed after a moment. “That’s one less to worry about.”

“She’s right,” Veronica agreed, her tone thoughtful.

“Why thank you,” Kate grinned.

“Psychotic, but right!” Veronica laughed. “It certainly cuts down on the competition and that can only be a good thing. So, how about it ladies, any of the rest of you want to ‘fess up to being a spy?”

* * *

Two more Hunters led the women down from the observation room. As always, Kate took the lead, striding along at a pace that challenged their hovering guides. Behind her, the others exchanged looks of long-suffering acceptance.

The briefing room itself was small and relatively modest. A single screen displayed mission-critical information and, once all four of them were inside and seated, the Overseer started the briefing.

“Ladies,” it began, “congratulations on making it this far. Each one of you has proved themselves to be an exceptional and ruthless trainee. We would be proud to welcome any one of you into the Organisation. But, as you are aware, tradition holds than only a single Operative may be chosen from each intake.”

They looked across the table at their friends and rivals, some of them saddened but all already inured to the fact that tonight would be the very last time they worked together.

Static played across the display screen, drawing their attention. Moments later, the digital snowstorm resolved into the face of a young woman. Information scrolled alongside the eerily three-dimensional image.

“Your target is Jillian Humphries,” the Overseer told them. “Up until this afternoon she was a low-level accountant in one of our shell companies. Unfortunately she stumbled across some rather sensitive data, which her line manager had failed to protect adequately. As a result of this lapse, they will now both be serving the Organisation in a more intimate fashion.”

Veronica pointed two fingers and mimicked shooting a pistol at the image.

“Snatch and grab,” Angelica announced, matching the other girls’ grins.

“The task,” the emotionless voice interrupted, “will require you to start the target’s processing before returning her to the facility. Assuming you are able to achieve this modest goal, trainees will be graded according to their performance. We will be watching and we expect nothing less than your very best.

* * *

Rose’s paralysis lasted just long enough for the Processor to grab her. Up until that point she’d been holding onto the slim hope that this was all part of their final evaluation. But, as she fell back into the machine’s sinister maw, that particular possibility was dashed away.

For an instant she was in free fall, while the long cables flexed and slithered against her tethered body. Rose dropped through darkness only to come to a sudden but surprisingly gentle stop. She splashed into something wet and yielding, the impact allowing her to sink into the strangely liquid surface.

Belatedly, she began to struggle. But, although the flexible bonds had clearly been designed to allow their charges almost a full range of movement, they left her in no doubt that she was well and truly caught. Worse still, as she continued to thrash impotently the floor beneath her started to shift and tremble.

The unnatural substance, upon which she lay, sucked softly at her flailing limbs. Rose’s exertions seemed only to speed the process, as the ground itself began to pull at her backside, drawing her straining buttocks down into its warm embrace. Her struggles grew more urgent, more desperate in their nature. But, like some perverse, clinging quicksand, her gyrations only encouraged the gelatinous fluid to adhere more tenaciously.

She fought against the inevitable, gripped by panic, as the ground melted around her, like thick syrup. The strange substance poured up over her body, coating her almost completely. Rose tried to keep her head above the rising tide. But, slowly and surely, it seeped upward.

It crested her chin, bathing her throat in its warm caress. More of the liquid filled her ears, deadening the sound of her increasingly helpless sobs. It engulfed her face, covering first her mouth and then finally her nose in tingling ooze. Still she held on, holding her breath until a deeper blackness began to obscure the pervasive shadow.

“Hello, Rose,” a calm, melodic voice sighed. “Please, don’t be scared. I am the Processor and I have no intention of hurting you. My sole purpose is to make girls like you better. You want to be better, don’t you, Rose?”

Her lungs burned with the strain of holding that breath, and the darkness was forming spreading cracks, which threatened to obliterate everything. She shook her head weakly, aware that the tendrils were shifting and coiling again.

“Breathe deep,” the eerily feminine presence urged, “fill your lungs with my psychoactive gel. Flood your brain with oxygenated fluorocarbons and let me enlighten you. By order of the Overseer, today’s program is bedslut. In just a few short moments we’ll have remoulded your malleable mind into something altogether more pleasing.”

Every instinct screamed at her not to do it, but the growing oxygen debt made it simply inevitable. Rose gasped, spilled a chain of slow bubbles into the heavy liquid. She gagged, choking and sputtering as the gel poured down the back of her throat.

Heat burned her skin, tingling delightfully against her body as her squirming slowed and weakened. The fear faded just as quickly as it had been born, massaged away when the darkness began to recede.

“That’s my good girl,” the voice encouraged gently. “Trusting, acceptant and entirely obedient. And good girls should be naked, shouldn’t they, Rose?”

The thick gel rippled, fizzing beneath her clothing and against her increasingly sensitised skin. Metal tugged at her wrists, pulling them back and straining the young woman’s shoulders. Strands of steel wound themselves around Rose’s arms, forming a tight spiral that clinching her elbows inescapably together.

Fire seemed to pour over her body. The unnatural warmth lingered obscenely, teasing and tormenting her breasts, boring into her unprepared sex and coiling hot caresses around her slender throat. Each delicate contact grew steadily more intense and, dimly Rose became aware that it was no longer soaking through her clothing, but was now oozing against utterly exposed skin.

“Isn’t that better, Rose? Freed from the restriction of those unnecessary clothes, bared and displayed for your owner’s inspection? And now, why you float happily in blissful surrender, let me replace those cumbersome garments with the accessories you shall wear for the rest of your life.”

Colours swirled all around her, twisting and cavorting in their seemingly random dance. Motes of light swam through the darkness, catching Rose’s attention and she, in turn, could not help but fixate on them utterly. Music seemed to tinkle, somewhere far in the distance, each tone filling the emptiness with ecstatic ripples.

The clinging heat grew steadily more avid, cupping her breasts quite obscenely and bathing her tortured nipples in molten desire. More of that same liquid arousal coiled between her legs, wrapping Rose’s thighs in burning strands before burrowing hungrily between her aching lips. Flames licked at her throat, stinging away her increasingly fragmented thoughts and the very worst of it was, she somehow knew the machine had only just started.

* * *

The girls hurriedly changed out of their civilian attire, squeezing back into the comforting embrace of their standard Organisation skinsuits. Adaptive colouration flickered in the dimly lit chamber, glitching while the software completed its calibration. But, even while the chameleonware was booting up, they were already strapping a variety of ordinance to their combat harnesses.

They had all been trained to handle everything the Organisation had to offer. But, naturally, each girl had their own preferred techniques. Kate, for example, wore matched flechette-pistols in her thigh-holsters. Each weapon’s pepper-pot barrel anodised to prevent glare.

The blunt efficiency of the tall redhead’s armament was in stark contrast to the bandolier of auto-injectors strung across Angelica’s torso. Despite her light build, the beautiful blonde delighted in the rough and tumble of hand-to-hand combat and, as her fellow trainees could all attest, there were few who could match her in terms of pure ferocity.

More devices were quickly packed away into small, over-stuffed backpacks. Standing off slightly to one side, Veronica bent to strap the sonic-stunner to her ankle, adjusting the delicate webbing until she was satisfied with its position. Miriham glanced across at her friend, fussing with the last few items they had decided to bring with them.

To a casual observer, the petite oriental appear to be unarmed. But the other trainees were all too aware of just how deceptive appearances could be. Cold-war era technology was etched into the young woman’s body, long chains of complex proteins laced with exotic metals to form an organic amplifier of quite unprecedented potency.

Simply put, the implant augmented Miriham’s latent psychic ability, pushing her well into the active range and without any of the messy psychotic side-effects that had made her kind so unpredictable and dangerous in the past. She might not be popping heads any time soon, but then this wasn’t a task that required such blatant displays of power.

“Are we good to go?” Angelica wondered after a moment. The urgency was clear in her voice and that agitation was infectious.

“Ready,” Kate almost snapped.

Veronica rose gracefully, looping her backpack over one shoulder before giving them the thumbs up. Miriham in turn, allowed her consciousness to reach out and touch each of them in turn. The alien awareness brushed across the surface layers of each woman’s mind and they reflexive strengthened their mental conditioning. Even Veronica, who counted the slight Malaysian as her closest friend, wasn’t quite ready to give up all her secrets just yet.

The link flowed in both directions, allowing secure, stealthy and smooth communication between the four of them. Rejoining the network was a familiar and sometimes disturbingly intimate experience. But today, despite their earlier bravado, none of them could avoid the sense of emptiness coming from the space they expected to feel Rose’s calming presence.

One by one, they pushed aside their discomfort. This was what their training had been leading up to and none of them were willing to jeopardise that. But it still wasn’t enough to dispel the sense of wrongness and Angelica couldn’t help but wonder just how many of them would be left once the night’s events had played out.

* * *

Awareness ebbed and flowed, occasionally lifting Rose back into the churning maelstrom of liquid colour. She could taste something almost impossibly sweet and the scent of burn spice seemed to fill her drug-soaked mind. But these sensations were distant and transitory, no more than momentary distractions amidst the raging tide of pleasure that constantly threatened to subsume her entirely.

Something warm and gelatinous clung to her throbbing sex, moving in slow ripples over her gaping lips and oozing into the wet heat of her spasming cunt in a series of shuddering pulses. The same sensations coiled around the swell of her swollen breasts, lifting and holding the ripe flesh, sending sharp needles of increasingly brutal desire deep into each puckered nipple.

More heat burned at her throat, as her arousal seemed to crystallise into palpable potency. It encircled her neck, scorching any attempt at denial and leaving only slick, molten need to trickle down through her belly and drip relentlessly into the core of her helplessly controlled cunt.

“Good girl,” the sibilant voice encouraged, and the praise took hold of her slavish sex and squeezed. “You’re doing so well. But now we come to the hardest part of all. I know you’ll do your very best, little one and I’m already so pleased with you.”

Rose felt herself swell with pride at the Processor’s words. The majority of her mind had already gone, scoured under the torrent of chemicals. But, what was left, the sluttish core of helpless arousal and obedient desire, basked in the warmth of the voice’s praise and she couldn’t find the energy to hate herself because of it.

“If you were capable of self-analysis,” the Processor continued in a tone of wry amusement. “You would have noticed that despite the continuous pleasure to which you’ve been subject for the last hour, you have yet to experience even a single orgasm.

“I am going to release that restriction in a moment and I want you to hold on for just as long as you can. That first climax will complete the process, although I suspect that after this ordeal you will not be satisfied with only one. And, the longer you can hold on, the better it will be.”

She tried to unravel the complex words, but their meaning seemed to grow more distant the harder she tried to decipher them. For an instant a feeling of frustrated sadness gripped her, only for it to fade away just as quickly with the realisation that she had no need of understanding. Only her obedience was required.

Soft strands of arousal wove lovingly through the base of her spine, threading around the nerve roots and tangling her perceptions in increasingly decadent knots. Pleasure bled into the tension of her shuddering sex, vibrating through the cunt-walls and forcing a rich groan from her breathless lips.

All she wanted was to give in to those feelings, to let go and plunge headlong into the rising surge of her own helpless abandon. But what she wanted was no longer important. The voice had told her to hold and so, like the good little girl she was increasingly becoming, that’s exactly what she did.

Desire bubbled up into her brain, spattering her thoughts with scalding hot droplet that burned and sizzled. Lust flowed over her mind, basting every fold in a glistening tracery of unbearable sensation. For an instant Rose’s awareness simply faded, displaced by raw heat that left her cerebrum throbbing like a second clit.

With an almost superhuman effort, Rose clawed her way back to reality. She knew only that she was supposed to hold on. But the erotic charge continued to build, rising so sharply now that it seemed to thrill through every atom of her being, resonating with the fervour of her helpless submission.

Rose’s mouth yawned wide in a silent scream, her body locked in tonic spasm. Inhuman desire blotted out everything else, melting her mindclit and filling her veins with white-hot flame. Ecstasy danced along her nerve fibres, cavorting and sparking in wanton abandon.

Unable to hold back the tide, Rose just came, over and over, while her convulsions thrashed the gel into bubbling foam. And, all the while, that soft, sibilant voice whispered new truths into the void each orgasm allowed to spread a little wider.