The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Title: 4th Dimensional Editor

Tags: mc, incest, body modification, reality modification, male dominant, male female, female female

Synopsis: “A strange looking laptop with the abilities to alter edit minds, bodies, and maybe even reality itself floats through spacetime as it contorts through various forms. Who will claim this power- oh, a horny 21 years old college student? Who has a crush on his lifelong best friend? Who’s living at home with his attractive Asian family..? Yeah, this probably wasn’t a good idea.”

A brief preface,

I wanted to shamelessly plug my Patreon and Discord here:

I’ll usually post the chapter a little bit early on my Discord, and Patrons have access to the next 1-4 chapters depending on their tier.

These early chapters generally are a little work in progress, but I appreciate any support for my writing!

Besides those benefits, don’t feel pressured to donate if you don’t can’t/don’t want to as all of my chapters will eventually be posted for free.

Now I hope you enjoy the story!

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Error: Sub-Dimensional Being directed
Translating…
Translating…
Translation Complete:

Cosmic Form PRC-504—Lost or Destroyed ICC Dimensional Property

Item: Cross Dimensional Maintenance Laptop
Category: Alteration/Modification Technology
Last Known Space-Time Location: 3rd Dimension, Milky Way Galaxy, 1639 AD
Risk level for : …
1st Dimensional Beings: Extreme
2nd Dimensional Beings: Extreme
3rd Dimensional Beings: Extreme
4th Dimensional Beings: Low

Action Required: Complete Equipment Replacement Form

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Chapter 1: Caleb M.

It was on my 13th birthday that I first saw the laptop. I was walking my little sister Emma home from school when I noticed it resting on the outdoor table of a small, locally run cafe. There was absolutely no one around but there it was sitting. Surely no one would leave a relatively expensive item like this unattended.

I immediately noticed how strange the design was. It was definitely a laptop, but it didn’t make any sense at all. At this time, all laptops still had the generic 2010s aesthetic going on: giant, metallic floppy things with clunky optical drives and sometimes that little nipple in the middle you could use as a cursor.

But this device wasn’t at all like that. I mean, it was also clunky, but to a much greater extent. It was a steampunk looking thing with buttons and dials scattered around the body with no apparent order or design. Even the screen itself, which looked like one of those green monochrome monitors that old computers or hospital equipment use, was significantly smaller to make more space for random lights and gizmos.

I assumed the owner must’ve ran off to the bathroom, but after a closer inspection the cafe was closed. That made the sizzling warm cup of coffee next to the device even more puzzling. But I didn’t have much reason to take a closer look so I kept walking Emma home.

On my 14th birthday after I had started highschool, I was walking out of my final class of the day when I saw it again: the exact same laptop sitting there in an empty study hall. This time, the screen was on and flashing a waterfall of randomly changing green symbols. Despite no apparent pattern to its madness, I felt it beckoning me. I took a look around and made sure no one was in eyesight before I slipped in and stuck the surprisingly heavy device into my backpack. Even folded up the laptop was a good 3 inches thick and 10 pounds heavy.

When I got to the parking lot to carpool home with my older siblings Kenny and Cherie, I tried showing them the device but they were equally puzzled by the strange nature of the situation. Initially, Kenny was apprehensive over me stealing a laptop, but they were intrigued by the gadget and even hung around me a bit while I tinkered with it. However, at the end of the day the device disappeared and neither of them had any recollection of the incident.

Year after year the laptop would show up on my birthday only to disappear with no trace just as suddenly. For my last couple birthdays, finding it as quickly as possible and spending what free time I had to study it has been what I look forward to the most each year. The mystery is just too much to forget about, not to mention that beckoning aura seems to be getting stronger the more I learn about it.

It wasn’t until my 16th birthday that I was able to get the screen to become semi-stable in which I could momentarily read segments of text as they flickered over the screen. It looked to be a simple login page.

Do you remember how I said the machine doesn’t make any sense? I realize now that that’s not just because the buttons are a little disorganized. Whoever designed this device did it in a way that literally makes 0 sense. Imagine if instead of normal arrow keys, your keyboard had a button for left, a barometer for right, a dial for up, and an entire separate keyboard for down. It’s as if the person who made this device lives with an entirely different set of universal laws that would make our UI and communication conventions completely alien to theirs.

Even after I figured out how to stop the screen to show static text, some sections of the screen appear completely incomprehensible when I look at them. All the words and sentence structures look correct, but reading them makes me feel like a kid who only knows half the alphabet trying to sound out his words. However, as I turn different dials and try different configurations, I find myself not only fixing the display but also becoming better at understanding this laptop’s intended way of thinking.

Still, besides being able to touch up on my gibberish to English skills, I haven’t been able to make much progress after the last few years. I’ve been able to access some documents like a report that indicates that this is some sort of lost dimensional or cosmic technology? Which kinda doesn’t answer any of my questions but at least it explains why this heap of junk doesn’t make any sense.

The main thing that has gotten me frustrated is being blocked by some type of login page when I try to access the main functionality of this device. I spent my whole 18th birthday thinking it was asking me for a login, so I was trying to brute force or bypass the password anyway I could to no avail. This year has to be different.

Today is my 21st birthday and I was able to track down the laptop sitting in the backseat of my car by 12:46 AM, which is a new record. It seems to be getting closer to me each year, which helps a lot.

I stayed up until 4 AM last night tinkering around with it, and it must’ve unlocked something in my brain because last night I dreamt a revelation: it’s not asking me to login, it’s asking me to create a user.

I wake up to the sound of my alarm and jump up to my desk, the laptop’s screen already wide awake as if it were waiting for me. Somehow, as if I’ve done this a million times, I reach for two slider-knobs (like a volume slider where the knob is also a dial you can spin for some reason??) on top of the screen that I’ve never understood before and use them to insert my biometric information—something I couldn’t explain to you. The screen whirs for a moment until it theatrically flashes with a page I’ve never seen before.

SCANNING…
SCANNING…
SCANNING…
Biometric Identification Saved
Match Authenticated. Welcome, Caleb M.

THAT’S IT?! I’M IN?? My hands start to shake as for the first time ever I’ve been granted a view of the UI of this device. Despite all of the surrounding weirdness, I am still a little bit surprised that it knows my name. I don’t think I entered it, after all.

“CALEB!” I hear Mom yell from the kitchen. “BREAKFAST IS READY! YOU’RE GOING TO BE LATE FOR CLASS.”

Shit! I have to get back to this later, so I close the laptop and throw it into my bag. I yawn and stretch myself awake. I quickly throw on some house clothes and head down the stairs. The wafting smell of French toast leads me to the kitchen where my aproned mother is preparing breakfast.

There are two sides to the women in my family. The girls on Dad’s side of the family, like my little sister Emma, are all small and petite like stereotypical Asians. On the other hand, Mom’s side of the family is a little bigger and much curvier. Just like her eldest daughter Cherie, Mom is a rather tall and busty Asian woman that fits in that second category. Though obviously, Mom’s body has that MILF factor going on that Cherie can’t match. For most people, age tends to treat the body poorly. However, in Mom’s case, it seems that the years did quite the opposite, sculpting her flesh so that any added sagginess just further emphasizes the voluptuous nature of her fit yet fleshy build.

Something about the years of adding just the right amount of weight to just the right places makes every curve of her body seem like it was made to attract men.

“Happy birthday, dear,” Mom says as she nuzzles her head against mine. Somehow, her long, jet black strands aren’t nearly as affected by this as my short guy hair. I take a moment to pat my head back down.

“Morning Mom,” I say as I grab a plate of food and sit down. Eggs, bacon, and toast—a classic in this household for when Mom is short on time. Still, something about Mom’s touch and overall experience just makes the tastes blend together so much better than any time I’ve attempted the simple dish.

“Do you need a ride to school today?” she says as she sets down an identical plate of food across from mine and takes a seat.

As she leans low to hastily devour her masterpiece while her mind keeps track of exactly how many calories she’d need to make it to lunch, my entire mind is focused on unblurring the section of my peripheral vision that makes up her deep cleavage.

“Um- No, I’m okay. I’m walking there with Holly today,” I say with a mouth stuffed full of eggs—my mom is playfully unamused.

“You know, I could drive the both of you. It’s not like it’d be a far drive to get her even, she’s right across the street,” Mom says with a chuckle. She has a point; she works at the school so it would just be convenient.

“Eh, we’re okay for now, thanks. I think Holly just prefers walking,” I say.

“Okay I know it’s your birthday but just nothing funny with you two,” Mom says playfully as she sits up and stacks her empty glass of orange juice onto her completely clean plate. She gives my head a rough kiss that messes up my hair once again as she heads out the door. “See ya at school.”

I sigh in silent frustration. Despite my closeness with Holly, I think the tone of our relationship has already been set in stone—which I am okay with, for the record! It’s just annoying when you tell someone your best friend is a girl and no matter what you say, they shoot you a sly grin, wink, and two nudges.

As Mom walks away, I quickly observe the details of her outfit… AKA I refreshed the mental images of all my favorite parts of her body. Despite being a very successful and professionally minded person, Mom dresses in a way to let out some feminine expression within her attire. Instead of pantsuits or blazers, Mom is the type to wear a comfortable black blouse and a matching black skirt on a day like today. She wears a tight, subtle charm around her neck that seems to catch the attention of people’s gaze as they sneak between mom’s eyes and tits.

Sigh… I look down at my plate. Somehow mom was able to finish her entire meal in the time it took me to finish 1 piece of bacon while we talked. I better hurry up.