The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Oshii stared out the picture window of her living quarters, her mind focused on the tasks of her day. Outside it was the beginning of spring and the immaculate lawns were starting to sport the occasional little burst of yellow. Despite the best efforts of the dedicated maintenance workers, weeds were still able to try to continue existing.

If Oshii registered any significance to the scene outside, her programming compelled her not to remember it.

“Mistress,” a soft voice from behind her pulled her out of the drift of her thoughts and she turned to face the speaker, “you were to be informed when the Overseer’s shuttle began its approach.”

“Yes Number seventy-six, very good, thank you,” the woman trembled at the positive response, and released a slight sigh. “Any report from Number seventeen?”

“Yes Mistress, Number seventeen reports that the re-tasking procedure is almost complete.”

“Very good Number seventy-six. You may go to the reward center.”

“Thank you Mistress,” the woman said through a breath, and pivoted precisely as the doors slid open to allow her exit.

Oshii stood for several more seconds, looking out at those little specks of yellow among the expanse of uniform green before turning to exit through another door.

Aeolipile, as the complex was called was massive, comprised of three hundred levels, extending deep into the planet’s crust. Oshii stood alone in the lift tube as it descended, watching through the clear partition as the heart of the complex rose around her. Every level streamed with silver-clad slaves, each about their task, or marching rhythmically between. There were three other lifts, each spaced evenly around an open center shaft, one of which was stopped about midway up, with a group of maintenance slaves performing a parts replacement. Through the open center a dense column of steam which was confined within a force-field rose from the geothermal depths below to power the massive manufacturing complex above.

The lift stopped obediently at the chosen floor and Oshii exited, joining the flow of slaves in the corridor outside.

Deep within the complex, slaves formed perfect lines and waited as an identical number of slaves marched silently out of the large, open elevator platform. A measured few seconds after the last of them were clear, the waiting lines flied rhythmically aboard, and a few measured seconds later, the platform descended into the lower levels, signaling that which needed no signal, that another work shift was about to begin.

The woman’s whole body shook in the restraints, and then resumed a snakelike undulation as her visor flashed against her mostly obscured face. Her naked skin shimmered with beaded sweat as her labored breathing filled the small chamber.

As Oshii watched, the flashing stopped, and the visor lifted away to reveal a well-formed face, a face whose dark eyes were open and intense as the taught muscles knotted about her body and limbs. Her body slowly ceased its movements as it gradually softened.

The eyes though, Oshii noticed that they retained their focus and gravity, even as the body which held them was sponged off and disconnected from various apparatus by the attendant slaves.

“The process is complete, Mistress.” A slave in silver from head to toe stepped away from a nearby terminal and came to attention.

“Very good number seventeen,” Oshii smiled, “You’ve done very well.”

The slave stood rigid, the figure who was her whole universe stood before her, smiling softly. “Yes Mistress, she said, this one is ready to serve. Inwardly the slave felt strange. Where her former designation had been a number, now there was a word, Doctor.

“You will do well, Doctor.” Oshii said, turning. We will go now to see your patient. Number Seventeen, you may report to the reward center,’ and then she turned and left the room, with the newly white-clad slave in tow.

The chamber was not large, and was alive with the sounds of pumps and motors, and the clicks and beeps of monitoring equipment. In the center was a bed, a programming platform retasked with a mattress and pillow to serve as the hospital, possibly the only one of its kind in the Empire.

“Mistress,” the doctor said with hesitation, “May I speak?” The doctor was struggling inwardly. It was improper to address Mistress directly, but her new programming demanded that she did.

“Yes doctor, please…” Oshii paused, recognizing the slave’s distress, and knowing the reason. There had been no programming in the library of tasks for this purpose, so she had written a new one herself, and the medical knowledge the Doctor was accessing through her chipware was of an only marginally compatible configuration. Compromises had been necessary and they were now showing themselves. “You will always address me directly Doctor, that is my command and it pleases me for you to do so.”

“Yes Mistress,” the Doctor shivered at hearing that she had pleased her purpose, and then seemed to regain balance, as well as what could almost appear as confidence, “the patient is incurable, Mistress.”

Oshii studied the Doctor’s physiognomy in every detail, yes she thought, the program is functioning. There is autonomy of thought, and the ability to question, but still there is just a missing component. the realization came with thoughts she herself couldn’t understand. The missing component isn’t among the programming of the Empire.

A comm. Panel beeped, interrupting Oshii’s reply, “yes”, she spoke after pushing a button.

“Mistress,” the voice sounded blankly, “The Overseer’s shuttle is currently on final approach to bay twelve.”

“Thank you,” Oshii replied, “I will be there shortly.”

“Do what is required, Doctor, and keep me informed,” she said, turning to go, “whatever you require, it will be provided if it exists within the Empire.”

The shuttle was gleaming white, its grav-comp gear lowering it lightly to the pad as it came to a stop not far from where Oshii stood. Shortly afterward a large door lifted open and a ramp extended downward.

Mireau, Mistress Overseer struck an imposing figure as she strode down the steps toward the waiting Oshii and slave Seventy-Six. She was tall, with a face almost skeletal, and eyes which seemed to see everything while at the same time denying access to what might be hiding behind them.

“Greetings Mistress Overseer,” Oshii said, lowering her eyes as was expected of an inferior slave. “Our purpose is to serve.”

“Very good,” the thin lips almost smiled, but her face remained impenetrable. “You are to be commended, Oshii, this facility has proven a model of efficiency.”

Oshii trembled at the praise, as was expected. “Efficiency is purpose, Mistress Overseer.”

“Leave us, slave.” Mireau said to number Seventy-Six, as she sat down in the administrative office. As the slave left the room, she turned her all seeing eyes fully to Oshii, who sat quietly at attention across from her. “You’re aware of my purpose in coming then?”

“It is not this slave’s function to question the actions of council members, Mistress Overseer.” According to protocol, as an administrative level slave, Oshii would be entitled to call the overseer by name; however Overseer Mireau wasn’t any ordinary overseer, she was the overseer, so Oshii addressed her by title, Oshii waited obediently for her to continue.

“This facility has exceeded quotas in every area, Oshii; you have done very well since your placement.”

“Thank you Mistress Overseer,” Oshii shivered again.

“There are, however,” Mireau paused, studying Oshii in every detail, “certain irregularities.”

“Irregularities?” Oshii was struck at the realization that she might have displeased her purpose. “This slave does not understand.”

“It is my purpose to reach an understanding of these irregularities, Oshii,” Mireau said, “we will speak later after I’ve done my inventory.”

“Yes Mistress Overseer.” Oshii said, waiting patiently for instructions.

“You are dismissed, Oshii.” Mireau turned her attention to a data display, calling up a list of slave programs.

Outside of a large hall, slaves formed perfect lines and entered single file. The hall was divided into stations, at each, ten slaves lined up. The first station they stood in front of dispensing tubes. Placing a tube in their mouths, they waited silently until a measured amount of nutritive pasteform flowed into their mouths and down their throats. After a short interval they moved to the next maintenance station.

The unconscious slave shook slightly, and then resettled, her hand tightening on Oshii’s as the latter sat silently, studying the readouts of the various machines. The doctor stood nearby, watching a particular screen. Oshii herself had taken programming in the medical field, not as extensive as that given the doctor, but it had been necessary for her to have at least an overview in order that she be able to build a directory, and organize the data installed in the doctor’s brain and chipware.

There was something missing from the programming, she knew, could sense it and whatever it was, it could be critical to the efficiency of the process. Efficiency was propose, and Oshii would be about the purpose of finding the missing piece.

The slave stirred, twisting slightly and opening her eyes. She winced a little and sighed painfully, and then her eyes focused upon the face above her. “Mistresssss,” she breathed heavily.

“You’re doing very well, slave.” Oshii said, bringing the slave to sigh again, more softly this time, and then drift softly back into sleep.

Slaves exiting the liquid replenishment station next marched to the cleansing station where they silently disrobed and stepped forward to where clear tubes descended from the ceiling and at a programmed interval; they were partially obscured by steam. Outside, other slaves removed the discarded slavesuits for recycling.

Mireau paused, opening a recently edited programming cycle which was listed only by a number and had so far only been used once. Her own programming found this highly unusual, so she began reading.

Moving in time with the flow of slaves, Oshii turned right, and waited as a panel slid open and walked into the room beyond. Inside were row upon row of slaves standing upright in dormancy chambers, clear cylinders stacked two high extended back into the distance as far as she could see. Oshii turned right, walking past the three monitoring slaves who stared into computer screens showing the status of every chamber. Oshii entered another chamber which held smaller dormancy chambers. These were maturation units, where immature slave units were stored and maintained, she continued past three more monitoring slaves into yet another room.

The room Oshii entered was smaller than the previous ones, housing cells, some of which were empty, but some of which held occupants, mostly staring subdued out at the goings on outside, and a few, more animated tried to speak to her. Oshii knew without looking that these were the newest arrivals, she continued on, hearing but not acknowledging their words.

Near the end of the row, there was a woman strapped naked to a padded platform and two silver suited slaves attending her. One slave was cleanly and expertly shaving the woman’s head. Long locks of brown hair fell to the polished floor as Oshii stopped a few steps from the platform.

“You were in command of the ship which violated our space, true?” Oshii said, looking the woman in the eyes.

“I am Captain Jia Siyavush,” the woman spat, I demand you release my crew and I!”

“That will not be possible,” Oshii said, “but I assure you that you will not be harmed, in fact you will find that absorption to purpose is quite pleasurable.”

The woman simply stared back into Oshii’s eyes, the reality of her predicament seeming to sink in, then her eyes focused in more closely, “You, she said, I know you… the academy”.

“That is of no importance, Captain you will be absorbed as your crew has, and serve us. Your ship library is of importance, however” Oshii said, “the information it holds will add greatly to our efficiency, however accessing some of it has presented difficulties, specifically the medical files.”

“What do you want with our medical files?” the captain renewed her struggles against the straps as one of the slaves inserted something she couldn’t see into her sex. As the device was switched on, her back arched as high into the air as it could go. Her breath inhaled sharply between being released in ragged moans.

“We require them.” Oshii answered, watching the slaves work. “Your ship was, unfortunately too small to have its own medical officer.”

“Get fucked robot,” the captain’s resolve renewed. “You don’t need a doctor, you need a mechanic… it’s all you fucking robots understand.” At that, her whole body shook and her eyes rolled back into her skull as one of the slaves attached a small cap to the back of her head and touched a control on a nearby console.

Oshii waited for her reactions to the processing to subside before continuing. “You have just been implanted with your chipware. The process will become very enjoyable from here, and soon you will wake into your new purpose. You will now tell me how to access the data I require, and be rewarded directly for your obedience.

The former captain shivered, her nipples standing out on her chest like soldiers at attention, and gasped as a new wave overtook her. She looked up at the woman standing above her, filled with a new awe she almost couldn’t remember not having.

Awash in girlflesh, the reward center sounded throughout with the sounds of ecstatic pleasure. Slaves writhed and wove themselves into a fabric of sexual abandon. From their arrival to the time when their chipware toned them back to their tasks, they would pleasure eachother and be pleasured to one mind crushing orgasm after another.

No, we care for the weak too. They are sinful and rebellious, but in the end they too will become obedient. They will marvel at us and look on us as gods, because we are ready to endure the freedom which they have found so dreadful and to rule over them—so awful it will seem to them to be free. But we shall tell them that we are Thy servants and rule them in Thy name. We shall deceive them again, for we will not let Thee come to us again. That deception will be our suffering, for we shall be forced to lie.

Mireau absorbed the words on the screen, in part through her eyes but also as they streamed into her chipware, these ancient words written by a long dead hand, and many others taken into the databanks from the computers of a captured rebel craft.

The last of the crew, she had found was being absorbed into the Empire at that very moment, but to find these writings here, and see that they had been accessed only this morning by the administrator Oshii was most irregular.

The data wasn’t a threat, no; Mireau had been programmed to know that nothing could threaten the Empire. Absorption was inevitable, and the collective would always survive, always grow. The data itself was harmless, mostly passages pertaining to emotions, things the Empire had no use for, and the rebels had been absorbed, as all such would be, but this irregularity was something else, not a threat, but not allowable either.

She sent a priority message to the others of the council of overseers and continued sifting through files, now concentrating on those recently accessed by the administrator.

The slave held tightly to Oshii’s hand, Oshii looked down into the tired eyes that shone back at her.

“There is pain, Mistress,” the slave said.

“You are doing well, slave, and I am very pleased with you.” Oshii said, watching as the eyes closed, and the slave sighed softly and drifted into sleep.

Mireau sat in a chair, facing inward at the ring of flickering, glowing overseers of the council. The overseers each sat in chairs on the far spread worlds and ships of the Empire, each being the only physical body in attendance among a ring of holograms around a hologram table.

“Defective parts must be replaced and defective software reprogrammed,” Overseer Intstsysa, the striking grey skinned female directly opposite Mireau said flatly, efficiency dictates that divergence is not possible.” It was true, programming was designed to prevent variation and assure total loyalty and obedience to the well being of the Empire.

“This facility is producing far above the rest in the Empire,” Overseer Salluce spoke from the far end of the shimmering table, “Administrator Oshii has served efficiency well. If the entire Empire were to adopt these new practices…”

“The divergent parts must be replaced and software anomalies corrected,” Overseer Ahn voiced right next to where Mireau sat.

“Replacement is efficiency,” Overseer Murron said, her otherwise human appearance broken by two antennae standing out above her forehead, “malfunctioning parts are replaced and recycled, as they have always been. This new process has not served efficiency, since the prognosis is that the part will still fail, and will inevitably require replacement. The new programming and new process are flawed, and will need to be corrected.”

“Administrator Oshii was searching a captured database for a missing component, compassion, it is called; the physician slave requires it for efficient function.” Mireau spoke at last.

“There is no program for compassion.” Overseer Intstsysa injected, “attachment does not serve efficiency. This software will require deletion and programming must be corrected. Overseer Mireau will reprogram the administrator and affected parts, and herself to delete non-conforming software.”

“This facility is indeed efficient and its processes serve the Empire well.” Mireau continued “Administrator Oshii serves the Empire well and her divergence will be corrected. Processes at this facility will require review for implementation across the Empire, and the malfunctioning parts and software will be replaced.”

The Doctor had indicated that the patient was near the end of function, and Oshii sat in the chair next to the bed, holding a pale hand and looking into the tired eyes lying there.

“You are doing well, slave.” Oshii said.

“There is no pain, Mistress,” a weak voice breathed, as the eyes slowly drifted closed and the hand slipped to the bed.

“Mistress,” the comm. panel beeped, “The Overseer requires your presence in chamber twelve.”

In the center core, the maintenance process on lift number two was complete. The maintenance slaves marched, pushing carts loaded with defective parts away for recycling as the newly operational lift descended away.