The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“A1 Bots, Inc.”

by ”URN My Power

“Ladies and gentlemen, what I am proposing is simply the expansion into new territories.” said Dr. Henry A. Jackson to the assembled executives.

“We can’t build humanoid robots.” said the C.E.O. at the head of the table. “Much less machines that could respond sexually.”

“Not with that attitude.” Dr. Jackson said. “I have the means of creating a prototype for you using nanotechnology.”

“How?”

“We inject the nanites into a subject. The nanites learn how the human body and mind work, and transmit their findings to a home ‘mother’ unit. From there, the process is simple.”

“I see.”

“I have people working on it right now.”

* * *

Dr. Nordstrom, called Carl by his friends, did not like this kind of experimentation. One of the technicians under his supervision had already catalogued and darted a subject—just a random young woman off the street, the first one he found the least bit sexually appealing. The technician had found someone he described as a “major hottie.” Carl found the experimentation absolutely repulsive. The nanites were already broadcasting data by the gigabyte. Their first job was to describe their surroundings so they could get a readout of her body dimensions. Soon enough, complete structural data was being displayed on the screen.

“Her breasts could stand to be a little bigger.” Dr. Jackson said.

“The nanites just moved in, Hank, and you’re already considering home improvement?” Carl asked.

“Why not, Carl?”

“The nanites haven’t even started to propagate yet.”

“Right.” Dr. Jackson said. “You’re right. One thing at a time. Start collecting raw materials from whatever her body isn’t already using. The first thing we’ll do is reinforce her bone structure.”

“Whatever.” Carl said. “You want me to see if I can get her craving titanium, or will iron and carbon be enough?”

“For now. We’ll wait until we can control her before we try for cravings. Tell our boys at the hospital to give her a clean bill of health when she gets there.”

* * *

Clarissa had panicked when the dart hit her on the behind. She thought she had been drugged. When she made it all the way to the hospital without losing consciousness, she feared that somebody must have injected her with some sort of disease. She was hysterical when she talked to the emergency room nurse, showing her the dart and begging for help. She was shown to a kindly doctor who ran some tests on her and the dart, and came to the conclusion that some wiseass had given her a dartful of distilled water, probably either to calibrate his dart gun or start an outbreak panic.

“The fact is, young lady, that we found no trace of any pathogens whatsoever in you or in the dart, and there would have been something residual left behind, trust me on that. You’ve got nothing to worry about, ma’am, unless you’re allergic to Evian.”

“That’s not funny.” Clarissa said.

On her way home, Clarissa stopped at the drugstore to get some vitamins. She damn well wasn’t going to let some virus get the better of her. She grabbed whatever she thought would help, from chewable Vitamin C tablets to herbal supplements. She ignored the cashier’s odd stares as he rang up her order. She went home and took two of everything.

* * *

“She’s taking vitamins and supplements.” Carl said, his eyes glued to the readings. “Looks like we scared her.”

“No kidding.” said Dr. Jackson. “Young people today are conspiracy nuts. They’ve been watching too much John Stossel, listening to Paul Harvey and reading ‘conspiracies.com’ on the ‘net. They think everything and everyone is out to get them. This is good, though. We don’t have to break down anything in her body to get the raw materials we need for the nanites to propagate. Start disassembling that junk.”

* * *

Carl at first thought he was hearing things. Tribal drums and guitars? Suddenly he realized they were getting sensory data from her ears. The subject sighed, and the voice that issued over the speakers was definitely not hers. He recognized the background hiss of a tape. Curious, Carl listened to the lyrics for a while. He suddenly realized the song was based on the book The Pride of Chanur by C.J. Cherryh. He hadn’t known they made music like that.

“We’re getting sensory input?” Dr. Jackson asked. Carl sighed.

“Yessir.” he said.

“Excellent. How soon until we have visual information?”

“Honestly, sir, I don’t know.” Carl said. “All the nanites are in place. The mother unit has to learn how to interpret the information that’s being transmitted. It’s only logical we got audio first.

* * *

Weeks had passed. They were now getting sensory information from all the senses via the remote uplink. The nanites were also giving status reports on the functioning of her organs. Clarissa was an imaginative young lady with vivid fantasies, which began to be displayed when the computer learned to interpret her thought process. Carl watched as she began to notice little differences in herself. Total recall. Faster thinking speed. Enhanced intelligence, speed, strength and dexterity. She wondered what was happening to her, but didn’t let up on her sex fantasies. She had a dildo, and she played with her breasts, so the nanites had ample opportunity to discover how her body processed sexual stimuli. Dr. Jackson had ordered that some changes be made, and control be attempted, but he had left a great deal of leeway as to what to do, as long as her breasts were enlarged.

* * *

Clarissa opened her eyes, feeling an odd heaviness in her chest. She sat up and started to move to a mirror, but she had trouble finding her balance. She finally managed it, and turned on the lamp.

“What the FUCK?!?!” she exclaimed. “Jeez, those things are HUGE! No way is this real!” Suddenly her hand moved by itself. Then her other one. Her arms joined the dance, and her hands roamed all over her body. When they moved to the breasts, Clarissa felt herself growing more and more aroused. They were so sensitive. They touched her nipples, and she came powerfully, screaming incoherently. She stepped backward and fell on the bed. Whatever otherworldly influence had come over her was no longer controlling her hands. She was playing with herself now, coming over and over again just from playing with her tits.

* * *

Six weeks later, Dr. Jackson had looked over the reports and decided it was now theoretically possible to complete her transformation. Carl protested, but was outvoted, and so, slowly, Clarissa’s body was transformed from living flesh to machinery. She barely noticed this, however. After a week, it was decided to override her will and call her to the lab. Clarissa was listening to her music peacefully when suddenly her eyes snapped open and she stood up. She removed her headphones and walked to the front door. She walked downtown in her bathrobe and turned when she came to the lab’s front door. She activated and waited for the elevator. She walked into the lab, face blank, and came to a stop just inside the door.

“Unit 00001 awaiting instructions.” she said softly. Dr. Jackson opened a bottle of champagne. Carl sat for a while, holding his untasted glass in one hand.

“Come on, Carl, come have some fun.” one of the lab-coated figures said. “Even Dr. Perkins is playing with her.” Angelica Perkins, a young woman with twelve degrees mounted on her wall, was sitting in a chair while the sex robot that had once been a human being licked at her twat.

“No thanks.” Carl said, handing his glass to his colleague. “I don’t feel well.” He left without any further word.

* * *

Carl felt helpless, not to mention guilty as sin. I should have walked out, washed my hands of this thing when I had the chance. he thought. He did some research, and found that there were actually several test subjects, both male and female, and that his group was only the first to produce a working prototype. Within a week, they had gone into production from scratch, assembly-line style. Giving the new line of robots different body types, facial features, hair colors, etc. was easy. The hard part, he discovered from his research, was giving each of them a unique personality, or a personality to order. Carl went back to work, and began making discreet inquiries on how the others felt about it. He managed to find some who felt as he did, and together they planned to bring the operation to the attention of the government. Left unchecked, this could lead to the creation of a race of disposable people. But what was to be done about the subjects themselves? That was a conundrum whose answer soon became apparent to Carl’s strong morals.

* * *

Federal agents kicked down the door. All those within the building were arrested. Carl came in with the agents, and assumed the controls. He quickly discovered how to disable the override on the subjects’ personalities. The subjects looked confused for a second, except Clarissa, who immediately fell to her knees and wept. Carl went to her side, offering his support.

“I’m sorry, Clarissa, I truly am.” he said. She cried on his shoulder for quite some time. Carl waved away the officer who asked for a statement, mouthing the words “Not now” to him. Instead the officer turned to the other subjects, who were angry and more than willing to make statements if it would get the bastards who did this in even worse trouble.

* * *

“Thanks for blowing the whistle, Carl.” Clarissa said.

“What else could I do?” Carl asked.

“You’re different from a lot of guys I’ve met.” she said. “You’re...well, you’re so much nicer. And you’ve got more morals than most of those other mad scientists in there.”

“No kidding.” Carl said. “Clarissa, I feel like there’s nothing I could ever do to make this up to you...but I’m going to try.”

“Well, being immune to any and all diseases, except the occasional computer virus, is a start.” Clarissa said. “And if you wouldn’t mind coming over this evening, you can make another payment. I’ve been looking for someone who’d be willing to play Arrest Mr. Robber with me.” She winked. Carl felt his cheeks redden. He’d never been submissive in bed before.

There’s a first time for everything, I guess.

End.