The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

My eyes shot open as we landed. I’d been having the same dream I’d been having since I was a teenager. One of the worst memories of my life, repeating over and over, again and again…my mother, standing over me…that smell…me begging her, pleading…trying to escape my shackles, trying to get just one hand free…

I tried to shake it off, and looked outside. It was night—we had landed just outside of Denver, past the Queen’s range. If we were unlucky enough to come across any goblins out here, they’d be operating of their own free will, and the Queen would never know they were gone.

Once we entered the city limits, we had no such luxury. As soon as a goblin spotted us, the Queen would know where we were, and send all her goblins to take us. The city had been human-free for months now; they’d be desperate for sport, and the Queen would be delighted to find new recruits.

This operation had been months in the planning, and we had just one chance. If our timing was wrong, we were all finished.

Vernita led us out of the chopper. Following immediately behind her, I wondered if she’d slept at all. She wasn’t visibly tired, but knowing Vernita, that meant very little. Beatrice looked around for a few seconds before emerging after me. We’d all been run through the plan so many times we could not only recite our roles in our sleep, we could use the exact wording of the mission brief.

Before we’d left, Beatrice had run us through any potential flaws in the plan, and exactly how we would deal with them. Cameron had given me some basic weapons training, and Whip had freaked me out by appearing behind me unexpectedly every few minutes. She did it again as Cameron left the helicopter—I could have sworn I’d been watching the door, but she’d somehow managed to exit without me noticing, walk around everyone, and stand behind me for a few seconds before I even noticed. I wondered if this was how she amused herself, scaring the pants off the new girl.

Cameron walked slowly, solidly. She was carrying enough weapons to take out the entire city, but I knew that she was worried that they wouldn’t be enough. Our mission was going to take us deep, deep into the goblins’ central lair…into the Queen’s chamber itself. Plan A was to get in stealthily, but if that didn’t work, Plan B was to shoot our way in. Our escape was almost definitely going to be messy, but once we had the target, we at least had some leverage.

We set off.

The first few hours passed silently and uneventfully. Our pilot stayed with the chopper; a male, he would be immune to the goblin’s charms. The only risk was if any got into the chopper; the handgun we left him with would be enough to defend himself, under most circumstances, but any contact with a goblin and the odds were against him surviving more than a few days.

Of course, if we weren’t back within a few days, we’d have bigger problems on our hands than a dead pilot.

Being born female had caused its fair share of problems for me—the odds of entering a heterosexual relationship that lasted longer than a night were close to zero; my best bet was becoming a prized breeder, and getting to have sex once every nine months. The fear of being turned into a goblin, into a bald, sharp-toothed, purple-tongued, sex-crazed creature was constant, with me each and every day.

But I couldn’t help but wonder what it was like being a male—sure, you get your pick of women, but each goblin city that arises is a new a fresh chance to find yourself waking up dead in the morning. Each Queen had a unique genetic code, and even if you were immune to every goblin until now, contact with a new Queen’s goblins could result in your sudden and painful death. As we left our pilot, I admired his bravery, and hoped that we’d see him again.

We traipsed through the sewers, careful not to make a noise, or emit any more light than we needed to. The plan was to walk to a base that had been set up for us, try to get a few hours sleep, and then make the rest of the journey to the Queen’s fortress the following night. Our intel suggested that she was relatively undefended; Denver had been taken over three years ago, and when they weren’t fighting humans for dominance, goblin Queens tended to prefer opulence over security.

High Command had sent a team of three specially-designed robots to pave the way for us a few weeks earlier. They looked like pieces of scrap, and whenever they detected any sort of movement, shut down and remained completely stationary. Unless the Queen herself was controlling nearby goblins at the time, the robots were unlikely go by unnoticed. Like I said, individually, goblins aren’t thinkers.

The robots had, their communications indicated, accomplished all of their goals. They’d set up a small base for us, recorded information on the city, cleared our path, and, as a bonus, told us exactly where we could find the Queen and how close she was to breeding.

That last piece of information was a fluke, and it had made our job much easier—the robots had managed to bug one of the Queen’s personal servants. Before the battery on the bug had died, it had given us a rough schematic of the Queen’s inner sanctum and let us know (almost to the hour) when she was going to produce a new Queen. Without such precise intel, we could have been camping out in the city for weeks, months. The specific timeframe had turned this into a hit-and-run mission, and was probably why they had agreed to send such high-profile agents.

In preparation for our visit, the robots had also managed to scavenge some food from a local supermarket and lead the Queen’s hunters on a wild goose chase, up the other end of the city. If they’d done their job right (and we had no indication that they hadn’t), we’d arrive at our base to find provisions, a place to sleep, and a rough map leading us straight to the Queen.

If we had the facilities to make a hundred more robots, I’m sure we would have won the war by now. As it was, the small team that preceded us had cost more than anything in the war effort so far; my mother had estimated that for the same resources, we could have salvaged over two dozen choppers, or even attempted to build a second tank.

We had one close call, just outside the makeshift base—Vernita was the first to hear it, a faint scuffling up ahead. One gesture from her, and the entire team dropped to the ground and switched their lights out, with me just a few seconds behind them. Vernita made eye contact with Whip, and she was up and gone before I could even register she’d moved; one second I was looking at, lying on the mud in front of me…the next, I was staring at a Whip-shaped indent.

I marvelled at the team’s military training, their ability to run on pure instinct, their uniformity and perfect timing. I just hoped I’d be able to keep up, with my non-military background, my lack of combat experience, my shortage of skills…I just hoped that I wouldn’t drag everyone down.

We lay in the muck, surrounded and enveloped by the pitch black of the sewers. My eyes slowly adjusted to the lack of light, while my ears strained to hear what was happening. I could hear the goblin getting nearer, but it wasn’t until she was practically on top of me that I saw her.

It was too dark to get a clear view, but I knew what I was looking at. Even if I hadn’t been trained from birth to see them, to fear them, the memory of the first time I’d encountered a goblin had burned the image into my brain.

The last goblin I’d seen had been recently turned, so she still had small wisps of hair on her large, round scalp. Her eyes were white and empty, and she was completely naked. Her teeth were tiny and sharp, her lips thin. I’d stood there, the only one unaffected, while all around me girls writhed uncontrollably, moaned passionately, and begged, BEGGED the goblin to turn them.

I shuddered at the memory, and immediately wanted to kick myself for my stupidity. I’d moved, and not even from an immediate threat—from a memory! My motion must have made a noise, because the goblin suddenly turned towards me. I could see what light there was reflect off the goblin’s white eyes. Instinctively (or perhaps deliberately, consciously?) it started let out its musk, and I could suddenly smell it, filling the air. All it needed was one moan, one whimper, and it would find us…we could take it out, but if the Queen knew we were here, our surprise attack stopped being a surprise.

There was a pause that seemed to last forever, and just as the goblin started to take a step towards me, it was suddenly tackled. Whip had managed to get up, get behind the goblin, tackle it to the ground, and before I could even sit up to see what was happening, use her blade to detach its head from its body. By the time my eyes caught up with what was happening, she was cleaning her knife and putting it away.

As we switched our lights back on, I nodded my thanks to her. There was a brief moment of eye contact, but she didn’t respond, and I swore that I would not be the one to let the team down again. I would not be the one that needed saving. I would not be the weak link in the chain.