The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Life at SETF took on a whole new rhythm. Suddenly people were excited, chatting and laughing with one another in the corridors. Meetings took on a jovial air, as scientists began to giddily realize how their contributions could be applied to the new mission. There was hope in the air.

Morale was boosted once again when administration released the deck-by-deck plans of the UIC Anthemoessa. SETF personnel posted the ship’s image everywhere, flooding the architect’s office with suggestions, questions, and downright praise. An internal contest quickly sprang up to see who could suggest an appropriate poem or song to christen the ship’s dedication plaque, when the time came.

And the Anthemoessa was a thing of beauty, assuming you go for the non-aerodynamic design of zero-gee vehicles. Earlier vessels had been cramped and uncomfortable, and that was according to the test pilots who were supposed to rave about them, no matter what. The Anthemoessa, in contrast, had four spacious decks, all wrapped around a propulsion core in the center axis of the ship. She looked like a metal donut with a pencil stuck through the hole in the center. Communications dishes and advanced scanners dotted the exterior of the donut.

When the human crew was periodically awoken from SAT, the habitable decks rotated about the engine core, providing a partial artificial gravity. The top deck was dedicated entirely to hydroponics, which refreshed the ship’s limited oxygen. There was a conference room, a galley, an engineering bay, a tiny exercise room, even a crew lounge for recreational activities.

Mingzhu knew something was up at lunch, one week after the Anthemoessa plans were released. She, Kiana, and Reyansh met up in the cafeteria. Kiana had an odd smile on her face.

“What’s with you?” Mingzhu couldn’t help ask.

“My application to go on the Anthemoessa just passed Level One,” confessed Kiana. She almost hugged herself. “I’m sooooo excited!”

“Oh,” Mingzhu said, surprised.

Mingzhu had no idea if Kiana had a decent shot of joining the Anthemoessa’s crew, but she guessed her friend’s odds were fairly good. Truth be told, the prospect made the Chinese scientist more than a little depressed. If Kiana was selected, the Indian woman would sail off on the spacecraft, not to see the Earth again for decades. It meant an abrupt end to their friendship.

Spearing a cucumber in her salad, Kiana gave her friend a funny look. “Ming,” she said pointedly, “You haven’t applied to go on the flight yet? What is with you?”

Mingzhu decided to dodge the question. “Rey, you applied too?” she asked.

Reyansh didn’t answer; he was admiring Amy Harrington, an attractive brunette from CryoEngineering. Amy was across the cafeteria, back from a long run, and currently chatting with three other girlfriends. Her sleek, sweaty body glistened in the soft plasma lighting.

“Yo,” Kiana said, playfully slapping Reyansh in the chest.

“Huh?” Reyansh said, coming out of his trance. “What?”

“You really need to get laid, mate,” Kiana smirked.

“Everyone’s getting into a crazy-obsessive exercise pattern,” observed Mingzhu.

“Well, of course,” Kiana retorted. “If you want to go on the flight, you need to be under thirty and in killer shape.” She nodded at Mingzhu’s tray. “And not order the fatty mac-n-cheese for lunch.”

Mingzhu scowled, pushing aside her bowl. “So, you applied for Anthemoessa, Rey?” she asked.

The Indian man nodded. “Oh, of course. I didn’t spend a lifetime studying faster-than-light propulsion, only to watch the latest state-of-the-art engine sail off into deep space without me.”

“Exactly,” Kiana seconded.

The two Indians fell to talking about their applications. “I just did my hypnotic susceptibility evaluation this morning,” Kiana reported. “I’m off the charts, according to Cora.”

“You got hypnotized by the computer?” Mingzhu asked, trying to sound nonchalant. “…what was it like?”

Kiana immediately laughed, before considering the question. “It was weird,” she admitted. “Well, it was not what I was expecting. But kinda fun.”

Mingzhu’s brow furrowed.

“So, you meet with Cora, the computer, in a dedicated room. Right here in SETF Central,” Kiana explained. “You and she talk, and she asks you some simple control questions. Then, when you’re ready, you sit in the puffy chair, she starts giving you instructions, and you follow along, and…” The beautiful Indian woman shrugged. “And then, wham, you’re hypnotized. You’re just detached and really, really, really out of it.”

“It is an out-of-body experience,” Reyansh supplied. He struggled to add more detail. “I felt as if my mind was separated from my body, and I hadn’t a care in the world.”

“Yeah,” agreed Kiana.

Mingzhu nodded, processing all of this. “So… what did the computer make you guys do while you were… you know, under?”

Neither Kiana nor Reyansh answered immediately.

“Well… I don’t remember much,” Kiana finally admitted. She blushed a little. “I’m pretty sure I wound up doing some crazy things. At one point, Cora hypnotized me to think I was an old-time circus clown.”

“She made me believe I was a professional weightlifter,” Reyansh sheepishly confessed.

Mingzhu, aghast, let her jaw drop open.

“The point of the hypnosis screening is to see how deep you can go into a trance,” Reyansh explained hurriedly. “Once you are under, Cora deliberately makes you do outlandish stuff, only to ensure your subconscious mind accepts all hypnotic suggestions.”

“The point isn’t to humiliate you,” Kiana agreed. “Besides, Cora only records your hypnotic susceptibility measurements. What you wind up doing is not recorded.”

“Right,” Reyansh nodded.

“Uh-huh,” frowned Mingzhu. She folded her arms. “Cora. You guys sound like she’s your bestest bud.”

“Cora’s…” Kiana hesitated, searching Reyansh’s face for help expressing her thoughts. “I don’t know, she’s different. She’s different from most computers.”

“I’ll bet,” muttered Mingzhu.

Modern computer technology was quite advanced by Mingzhu’s day. Computers were artificially intelligent, and had their own personalities. They understood—or seemed to understand—the basic complexities of human emotion. You could be pals with your computer, talk with it, even laugh when its humor simulators hit upon the unexpected joke. Some of the more introverted members of SETF genuinely considered their computers to be their best friends. The illusion that computers were mechanical people was fairly convincing.

But Mingzhu was a data scientist. She knew that under the hardware, a computer was an advanced series of lightning-quick algorithms, all-observing and processing quantifiable data. There was no soul within the machine. Only cold calculation.

Of course Mingzhu longed to go on the Anthemoessa. What scientist wouldn’t? But the thought of being hypnotized by a computer made her blood run cold. Kiana and Reyansh seemed to think that Cora’s hypnotic power was all fun and games in the pursuit of science… but to Mingzhu, allowing a computer into one’s subconscious mind was absolutely frightening.

Three days later, SETF Administration posted the Anthemoessa’s preliminary crew roster. Across the complex, everyone paused to admire the lucky six people thus far who had been chosen. Conversations and harmless hallway gossip were at an all-time high.

Kiana had made the cut, and was to be the secondary propulsion specialist. There were still six seats left on the ship, for a crew of twelve.

“Good for Kiana,” Reyansh commented to Mingzhu. “She’ll do well on the Anthemoessa, I have no doubt.”

“Do you think they’ll pick you?” Mingzhu asked him. There was only one more seat left for a propulsion engineer.

“We will see,” shrugged Reyansh. “My application is complete; its out of my hands now.”

The Indian man fixed Mingzhu with a sharp stare. “You should really consider applying,” he told her. “Rumor is, the first three choices for data scientist all bombed out on the hypnosis screening. They’re looking for someone with your talents.”

Mingzhu nodded, biting her lip. “I’ll talk to Kiana about it, get her advice.”

Reyansh laughed softly. “No, that you cannot do. Kiana is an astronaut now, she will be in zero-gee training from now until launch. We won’t ever see her again. Not unless we’re selected to go, too.”

That night, Mingzhu dreamed that she and her friends were on a sinking boat, somewhere in a sickly green ocean. As the metal ship lowered into the waves, Kiana and Reyansh scrambled aboard a tiny rubber raft.

“Ming!” shouted Kiana, stretching a hand. “Hurry, get on board!”

But the life raft looked tiny and wobbly on the waves. Mingzhu hesitated.

Then the sinking ship dropped away beneath her, and Mingzhu found herself struggling in the cold, slimy waters.

Dr. Rory Samuels held a Computer Department-wide staff meeting on the first of every month. “Thanks for transmitting in,” he said to everyone, communicating via hologram from his Paris office. “I wanted to give some operational updates…”

Sitting at her office desk, Mingzhu half-listened. Her inbox was overflowing with incoming work.

“First up,” Dr. Samuels said. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to make some layoffs. SETF’s budget is largely going to the Anthemoessa mission, and Administration is instructing me to make cuts elsewhere. Data Science, we’re going to have to shave down your department by about half.”

THAT got Mingzhu’s attention. She might get laid off? On the eve of SETF’s greatest mission?

Mingzhu’s colleagues started muttering curses. She watched as all of them tapped into the SETF Central computer and started filling out an Anthemoessa application. There was only one seat left, for a data scientist.

Sighing, Mingzhu did the same.

The revised Anthemoessa roster was posted that afternoon. Reyansh had been assigned as the last propulsion engineer. The only slot left was for the ship’s data expert.

“Fuck me,” Ed Wastanski, another data scientist on Mingzhu’s research team, muttered at his desk. “If they don’t pick me, I swear, I’m dropping out of science entirely.”

At that moment, a department message appeared in Mingzhu’s Inbox. She tapped it, and quickly skimmed:

TO :: Mingzhu Chen, MC388429-A, Data Science Division, Level C Staff

FROM :: Anthemoessa Candidate Committee

Dear Ms. Chen,

Congratulations! You have been selected as a semifinalist in the Anthemoessa flight selection process. Your submitted application materials have been very impressive, and we would like to invite you to continue to the next phase of the candidate selection process.

Tomorrow at 08:00, please report to Room C15-293 for your hypnosis screening and evaluation. Be sure not to drink any caffeinated beverage prior to your appointment. Some tips on successfully getting hypnotized include…

Mingzhu swallowed. So there it was. Her chance to go on the flight.

If only she could trust the computer with her mind.

The next morning, Mingzhu arrived in the waiting room outside Room C15-293 feeling more than a little nauseous. The technician reviewing her ID badge smiled at her knowingly.

“Nervous?” he asked conversationally.

“Um, yeah,” Mingzhu admitted.

The tech chuckled. “Well, if it helps, there are no cameras, no recorders of any kind in the room. Its just you and Cora. She conducts the tests, files your scores, then erases everything else from your session. You are free to do anything with her.”

“That’s comforting,” Mingzhu said, not feeling very comforted at all.

“You’ll be fine,” the tech assured her. He tapped the last bit of Mingzhu’s information into his terminal, then nodded. “She’s ready for you,” he said.

Room C15-293 was one of the drabbest places Mingzhu had even seen. The small chamber was four plain walls, painted a neutral grey, with nothing decorative in sight. A soft plasma lamp hung from the panel ceiling; the floor was a simple white tile. A large, padded chair was on one side of the room.

And facing the chair was Cora. The computer was exactly how Mingzhu remember her… ah, it. The white metal box rested on a low table, with a large monitor screen connected to one of Cora’s optic outputs. As Mingzhu shut the door behind her, the monitor screen came to life, projecting a pleasant forest scene. The forest was incredibly green.

“Hello, Mingzhu,” Cora said pleasantly. Her synthetic voice was soft and musical.

Feeling mighty silly, Mingzhu nodded. “Greeting acknowledged,” she replied. “Commence with primary program.”

“You are using formalized parameter language,” Cora observed, sounding almost amused. “I understand that most of the computers in the ACA Lab require this for interaction. But I assure you, I have several advanced modules supporting adaptive language skills. You can talk to me as if I were human.”

Mingzhu frowned. “But you’re not a human,” she pointed out.

“This is true,” Cora admitted. “Does my artificial nature make you uncomfortable?”

There was no point in lying to the computer. Mingzhu knew that her heart rate, pupil dilation, and subconscious body language were all being carefully monitored by Cora’s subprocesses. A lie, even a small, well-meaning one, would be instantly detected.

“Well, yeah,” the beautiful data scientist said. “I know a lot about your design. Well, a lot about personality simulation computers, anyway. I’m never gonna relate to you as another human being.”

“That is understandable,” said Cora. “Thank you for your honesty.”

“Look,” Mingzhu scowled. “I understand that I’m here for you to hypnotize me. So can we get this over with? Do I sit in the chair and meditate, or something?”

“You are anxious about being hypnotized,” Cora said. It was not a question.

The data scientist spread her hands. “I make sense of computer data for a living. I’m not looking forward to being programmed by one.”

Sounding positively tickled, Cora replied, “I could cite many psychological studies which demonstrate that hypnosis does not actually control the mind. But I think your fear of hypnosis is irrational in nature.” She comfortingly added, “That is completely understandable.”

“Your psychological analytics programmed you to say that,” Mingzhu accused, folding her arms across her chest.

But deep down inside, the data scientist knew: Cora was right. The more she thought about going into a suggestible sleep under the guidance of the computer, the more distraught Mingzhu became.

“You are partially correct,” Cora said smoothly. “I do have a vast database concerning the human psyche. But I also have your detailed psychological profile on record. From an analytical standpoint, I can understand your fears.”

“You have my psyche profile?” Mingzhu asked, unnerved.

“In temporary storage, yes,” acknowledged Cora. “It was transferred in as a part of your hypnosis evaluation. I have constructed a simulation of your mind, to both understand you and determine the best method to guide you into a deep hypnotic trance.”

“That’s… just creepy,” Mingzhu said before she could stop herself.

“But useful,” the computer said gently. “Even while we are conversing, I have been evaluating your responses to my verbal stimuli. The software replica of your mind has responded with a 94.293% degree of accuracy when compared against you.”

“Fine,” scowled Mingzhu. “So let’s get this over with. What does the simulated me tell you about the best way to… you know… hypnotize me?”

“In your application, you indicated that you have never been hypnotized before,” Cora remarked. “Are you looking forward to the hypnotic experience?”

“Yeah, sure,” said Mingzhu glumly. She flopped down into the chair. “Let’s just do it.”

“You are being sarcastic,” the computer replied.

Mingzhu forced herself to be civil. “I’m sorry. Can we begin?”

“You are afraid and resistant to hypnosis,” replied Cora, sounding positively remorseful. “Direct and indirect methods of hypnosis will be ineffective on you.”

The data scientist blinked, puzzled. “Okay…”

“There is no point to this evaluation,” Cora said. “You cannot be hypnotized.”

Taken aback, Mingzhu could only stupidly echo: “I can’t be hypnotized?”

“Not presently, no,” Cora said sadly. “I was not certain until I was able to conduct direct observation. I’m afraid this will disqualify you for the Anthemoessa flight.”

Mingzhu felt as if kicked in the gut. Up until now, she hadn’t realized how badly she wanted to go to the stars. The thought of watching the new starship sail off—with Kiana and Reyansh on board—was sobering, indeed.

“I will recommend that your application be closed,” Cora murmured. “But I am sure that SETF Administration greatly appreciates your enthusiasm.”

If Mingzhu didn’t know any better, she’d suspect Cora was deliberately goading her with reverse psychology. But the computer didn’t care if Mingzhu went on the flight or not. Another more hypnotizable data scientist could be selected. Mingzhu meant nothing to Cora’s evaluation algorithms.

The young woman swallowed. “Wait, wait,” she said quickly. “Is there any harm if we just try anyway? You know… to confirm that I’m not… hypnotizable?”

Cora didn’t hesitate. “Your initial reluctance indicates a very low probability of success.”

Mingzhu felt herself becoming stubborn. Fuck it, she thought in a moment of defiance and exasperation. I’d rather be hypnotized and think I’m a clown then be left here on our decaying planet.

“I’d like to try anyway,” the data scientist insisted. “Do I sit here, in the chair?”

“Yes, please,” replied Cora, apparently unphased by this abrupt change in circumstances. “Would you like me to activate the massage pads?”

“Oh…” Mingzhu said, settling into the faux-leather. “Er, no, thank you. If this is gonna work—and I’m not convinced it will—then I want it to work without any outside stimulation.”

“That is wise,” Cora complimented. “Your ability to focus and concentrate is paramount here. Now, before we begin, I must have your verbal consent: May I hypnotize you?”

Here we go, thought Mingzhu ruefully. She nodded her head.

“I must have your auditory Level Three password to access the hypnosis analytics knowledgebase,” Cora informed her.

“Oh,” said Mingzhu, wriggling in the chair to make herself more comfortable. “Sure. Ugly Duckling.”

“Accessing…” Cora purred. “Connection established.”

The lights dimmed.

“One moment, please,” requested Cora.

Mingzhu settled her head back into the chair, letting everything in her body become motionless except her eyes.

“I have just conducted 1,483 hypnosis sessions on your simulated mind,” Cora said absently. “You are highly intelligent, with sensory modalities based on visualization and tactile contact. Analysis indicates that the most effective hypnotic technique would be to give you an object for eye fixation. Would you like something visual upon which to concentrate?”

“Uh, sure,” said Mingzhu. “Like what?”

The monitor screen lit up. The image of a sterling pocketwatch swung back and forth, back and forth.

“Oh, oh no,” Mingzhu recoiled. “That’s too corny.”

The pocketwatch vanished, to be replaced by a graphic: Four wavy blue lines danced across the screen, rippling with a strange, lethargic energy. Mingzhu was reminded of the surface of the ocean.

“This pattern was preferred by Commander McCormick,” Cora remarked. “She achieved deep somnambulism within 7.38 minutes while using this image.”

Mingzhu remembered Christine McCormick, the thin blonde woman introduced at Admiral Jacobson’s SETF briefing, almost a month ago. How strange to imagine that proud, elegant woman deep in a hypnotic trance, mesmerized by this doting computer!

“Eh…” Mingzhu frowned. “I’m getting seasick. Do you have anything simpler? And more, I don’t know, traditional?”

The blue lines winked out, replaced by a simple black-and-white spiral that began spinning counterclockwise. Mingzhu’s eyes were immediately sucked into the center of the whirling pattern.

“Oh…” the beautiful data scientist said. “Yeah, that will—“

“Please do not speak,” Cora requested firmly but gently. “Allow your lips to fall silent. Allow your eyes to drift where they want to go. You will find that they are always directed into the center of this pattern. Always into the center of this pattern.

“Very good,” continued the computer. “You are allowing your body to relax. Becoming so relaxed. Focus your concentration on my words and your eyes on the pattern. Allow nothing else to concern you. Soon, you will feel your body become so relaxed, it may feel disconnected from your thoughts. Allow that relaxation to happen. Allow it to happen.”

Mingzhu sat still, staring straight ahead. Cora’s voice was soothing, she had to admit. The voice synthesizer engineers had done a marvelous job in weaving a motherly quality into her speaking tone. The young woman felt almost as if she were being lulled into taking a nap.

Cora spoke on, her voice floating in the air. Perhaps it was Mingzhu’s imagination, but the spiral seemed to be growing larger, spinning both faster and yet slower. Within a minute, the beautiful young woman found that she couldn’t move her gaze from the center of that twisting wheel. The blacks and whites blurred. Sometimes, she felt as if she were being drawn into a tunnel, an endless tunnel with no colors. Only gentle black. And white. And Cora.

It was becoming hard to concentrate. Time was becoming immeasurable. The theoretical physicists said that as one traveled faster than light, the universe no longer became perceivable, because time and space were no longer constant. Mingzhu felt like that now. She drifted along, zipping into the universe of Cora’s words, traveling at lightspeed and yet just sinking even deeper and deeper into pure, complete relaxation, allowing-

“…and awaken!” Cora suddenly said.

Mingzhu blinked. Instantly, the room reformed around her. She was sitting in the chair, facing Cora and that monitor. The spiral whirled on, just as before.

“How do you feel?” Cora asked plainly.

“Huh…?” Mingzhu mumbled. “I feel… I mean…”

She shook her head. Had she been hypnotized? She didn’t remember even falling asleep.

“Do not assert yourself too much,” advised the friendly computer. “You went very deeply, very quickly. Your subconscious mind is still recalibrating.”

“Okay,” said Mingzhu, still dazed. She went to rub her eyes.

Nothing happened.

With a mild shock, the young woman realized her arms were suspended in the air before her, as if invisible strings had lifted her wrists into the air. The beautiful young scientist stared, then tried to lower her arms.

They wouldn’t budge.

Mingzhu frowned, once more commanding her hands to return to her lap.

“Hey…?” she exclaimed, marveling at how her arms seemed suspended in the air before her, no longer hers to control.

“Excellent,” Cora remarked. “You are unable to resist a Level One posthypnotic suggestion. This demonstrates a greater susceptibility necessary for SAT. You are doing very, very well.”

“I want to put my arms down!” Mingzhu said, growing annoyed.

“Mingzhu,” the computer said, her voice a little more forceful now, “there is no need for concern. All is well. Your mind will accept all my suggestions.”

Strangely, Mingzhu felt her anger melt. A calmness settled over her.

“You feel peaceful, relaxed, contented,” Cora said pleasantly. “You are happy to allow me to guide you. You will now return to a deep, deep sleep.”

Everything the computer said became automatically true. Mingzhu sighed, forgetting her irritation. She wanted to obey that sweet, silky voice.

“You are doing so well,” Cora assured her. “And now, your eyes will return to the middle of the spinning spiral. You will relax even more. As you relax, your arms and hands drift back down and go to sleep. Now.”

The young woman’s gaze floated back to the monitor screen. Soon, Mingzhu was staring back into the black-and-white tunnel, mesmerized by its seductive shape. Her mind was becoming a blank, and she did not notice as her arms floated down into the chair.

“Excellent, Mingzhu, excellent,” praised Cora. “Your only desire is to relax, and to follow and obey every suggestion I place within your mind. And now… sleep…”

Mingzhu’s eyes closed, and she remembered nothing more.

“…and awaken!” Cora’s voice was saying.

Slowly, Mingzhu opened her eyes. Momentarily confused, she rubbed her face.

“…sorry?” she mumbled.

“There is no need for concern,” the computer assured her. “What do you remember?”

Strangely drowsy, Mingzhu considered the question. Her mind was a foggy blank.

“Uh…” the young data scientist said. “I dunno.” She shook her head, once. “Weren’t you going to hypnotize me?”

“Of course,” Cora assured her. “First, we should perform a simple calibration test. Are you ready?”

“Sure,” mumbled Mingzhu.

The monitor image changed. Now it depicted a plump, cheerful woman, wearing a sky blue dress and a gentle bobbed haircut. The woman’s eyes were as alive as her smile. She was standing in a prekindergarten classroom, complete with large ABC’s cut out from rainbow construction paper.

“Good morning, class!” the woman exclaimed, her voice dancing.

Instantly, Mingzhu felt as if she were four years old. The data scientist gasped in delight, then bounced up and down in the chair. “Good morning, teacher!” she squealed.

“And are we happy today?” the woman on the screen beamed.

To Mingzhu, it was as if the woman was flesh and blood and standing before her. “I’m happy, I’m happy!” the hypnotized young woman sang. She hugged herself in appreciation.

“That’s wonderful!” the teacher exclaimed. Her eyes sparkled.

Mingzhu beamed from ear to ear.

“Now class,” the teacher went on, “we’re going to be learning about animals today. Who remembers an animal they can share with the class?”

Mingzhu’s hand shot straight up. “Me, teacher, me, me!”

The teacher looked wonderous. “Yes, Mingzhu?”

“Bunny rabbits!” the young woman proudly said.

In every way, Mingzhu’s mind was completely fooled by the hypnotic illusion. She utterly believed that she was four years old again, sitting in preschool, competing for the attention of her beautiful teacher. The young woman was lost in the hypnotic fantasy.

“Bunny rabbits,” laughed the teacher. “Yes, Mingzhu, very good. Very good. When I snap my fingers, you’ll realize you have a bunny rabbit in your lap right now!”

The teacher did snap her fingers. Surprised, Mingzhu looked down.

The world’s whitest, fluffiest bunny stared back up at her with big, pink eyes. The creature’s little nose sniffed in an unstoppable frenzy.

“Awwww!” Mingzhu cooed, overjoyed. She began petting her bunny, who loved the attention.

“And what is your bunny’s name, sweetheart?” the teacher asked.

“Snuggles,” replied Mingzhu coyly.

“Very good, Mingzhu, very good,” murmured the teacher. “Just let me tell you one thing for me, okay? In the future, you will always, always, always follow and obey all of Cora’s hypnotic instructions. You will automatically carry out everything she commands you to do, even without being aware of her control over you. Do you understand, sweetheart?”

“…’kay,” Mingzhu answered absently, still enchanted with her rabbit.

“And now, dearest,” said the teacher, “you will close your eyes and sleep…”

Immediately, Mingzhu’s eyes fell shut. She sagged against the chair, tumbling into nothingness.