The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The streets of UCLA were immaculate, which didn’t surprise me. If litter annoyed a Queen, just one change in their Workers’ programming would make sure that there was never a stray bit of paper anywhere in the colony.

My teal shorts were riding up the crack of my ass, and instead of cradling my cock and balls, they seemed determined to chafe them until I cried out in surrender. The shirt was comfortable enough, although I was beginning to realize that I wasn’t blending in a much as I’d hoped. Physical fitness was a high priority on this Queen’s list; the other men I encountered all bulged with hard muscle, while the women were slim and toned. I was fairly tall, but I was more lean than muscular. The life of a Bagger was tough enough that I didn’t feel the need for extra workouts just to look bigger. While this colony didn’t rely on the strong backs of the Workers to survive, the Queen obviously wanted her people to look like it did.

Trying to puff myself up, I strode with feigned confidence along Westwood Plaza through the heart of the colony. My stolen name tag read “Orderly Nathaniel—O Pos.” The real Nathaniel was on duty in one of the border clinics, probably wondering where he’d dropped his ID.

Each of the buildings that I passed was impressively large and beautifully kept. Supposedly this entire area was a campus—a center of learning in the Pre-Separation days. I tried to imagine how many people would have gathered in this place in order to fill the concrete and glass halls. My two years of education and training for the Guard had been taught in another place like this in Phoenix, but there had only been two hundred of us total, and we’d barely filled a single lecture hall.

According to my mother, I’d actually been to the UCLA colony before, when I was just a baby. Back then, my father had been a junior Archivist, sent out on research missions to gather any Pre-Separation data he could find. Mother had been a logistics officer in charge of Guard deployments on the west coast. Now they both lived in The Mountain, Father as the head Archivist for North America, and Mother as the Caravan Coordinator for the trade routes west of the Mississippi River.

I’d been too young to remember my last trip here, but I’d done plenty of research in the last two days, and knew generally where I was headed. The training center for new doctors was in a building called the Albert Felderman Medical Center, which should be right...there.

A steady stream of workers came and went from the impressive structure, filing in orderly patterns through banks of glass doors. I fell in with a group of four, two men and two women, and rode in their wake as we entered the open lobby. I was as nervous as a feral cat, all of my senses alert for signs that I’d been discovered. I tried to look like I belonged, as my group headed for the long counter that bisected the lobby.

As the four of them passed along one side of the divider, a dark-skinned man on the other side—Administrator Jeremy O Neg—handed each of them a tablet. When my turn came, he didn’t hesitate and pressed one of the devices into my hands. I resisted the temptation to look at it, since none of the others were. They carried their tablets casually in their hands as they continued toward the back of the lobby.

When the group turned a corner, I took the opportunity to break away. Several other workers were seated in a lounge area to my left, all of them staring intently at their screens. It seemed like the perfect cover, so I headed over and took a seat. When I finally got a look at the tablet, I had to force myself not to smile. A tiny icon in the upper left of the screen told me that this device ran on the AircastOne operating system—the same one that the Guard archives used, and the same one that I’d been programming since I was five.

I shouldn’t have been surprised, since there weren’t really a lot of options when it came to electronics. Computing devices hadn’t changed much since the Separation, and the San Silicon colonies north of here had managed to keep most of what still existed in working condition. They’d even started producing new products, with the help of the complex supply chains that had been one of my mother’s greatest successes.

Feeling more confident now, I brought up the system menus and started delving into the wealth of information I’d been handed. Maps, personnel rosters, duty assignments, Worker housing and feeding locations, even the monthly fertility assignments, designed to keep the colony population at a sustainable 1.6% growth rate. I poured through tables of data, looking for anything that could help me with my mission.

Eventually, I got worried that I’d draw suspicion by staying in one place so long, since as a rule, Workers didn’t loiter. After ten minutes, I’d just decided to switch locations when I came upon the answer to all my hopes: a resource breakdown of the entire colony, including all 162,377 workers. I forgot all about moving as I lost myself in the data. Drilling down into the table, I found a list of doctors, sorted by age, specialization, level of training, and current duty assignment. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud. Here was a shopping list of available targets—all I had to do was pick the right one and then go get them.

I hadn’t realized that there were so many types of medicine, but eventually, I’d shrunk my list to a dozen candidates. One of them caught my eye, since she was assigned to this building. Thirty-year-old Doctor Rachel A Pos was a general practitioner with a focus on Obstetrics and Pediatrics. Perfect for Queen Melissa’s needs in her expanding colony.

“OK, Dr. Rachel, let’s see where you’re hiding.” I pulled up the map. Her daily assignment was in the Obstetrics wing, two floors up. To ease my conscience, I checked the department schedule and found that four other doctors were doing the same job. Stealing Dr. Rachel wouldn’t leave UCLA’s expectant mothers without medical care.

Now the question became, how could I make the extraction? And when? Getting someone out of a place like Tequila was a lot easier than smuggling an unconscious body across the borders of half a dozen closely-knit colonies. I wasn’t worried so much about being stopped—even if I set off an alarm, I could easily escape among the sprawl of this mega-cluster—but it was almost guaranteed that I’d be identified and reported. A suspicious Bagger who appeared at the same time that a valuable Worker went missing? Even a lazy, selfish Queen could put that together. Queen Wendy would drag Captain Gregor off his lazy ass to track me down, and my carefully hoarded anonymity would be gone.

I needed to think this through, preferably with a drink in my hand and an enthusiastic girl bouncing on my cock. I copied all the relevant data to a chip, since I couldn’t risk taking the tablet with me just yet, then returned the device to the man behind the counter.

I had a definite bounce in my step as I headed for the place I’d stashed my clothes, but I couldn’t decide if it was anticipation for what I was going to do to Roxy tonight, or adrenaline kicking in as I got closer to another successful mission…

I’d gone with the dark blue uniform today, figuring the duller tone would be harder to pick out in the shadows or among a crowd. It probably wouldn’t matter at all, but I liked to think that my attention to detail was one of the keys to my success.

My name today was Nurse LaShawn AB Neg. Nathaniel’s name tag had been dropped outside his clinic on the way home last night.

I went back to the Medical Center, and picked up my tablet from the same smiling man. I didn’t need it for research today, but I was glad for the prop in my hands, because it gave me a chance to hide the bulge around my waist. Very few Workers carried bags of any kind, so to conceal my extraction kit, I’d had to hide it under the rather skimpy uniform.

Holding the tablet strategically between me and the majority of other workers, I headed for the stairs on the left side of the foyer. Dr. Rachel should be two floors up, thirty meters down the northern corridor, in exam room 309A.

I was so focused on reaching my target that I didn’t hear the woman’s voice as I reached the second-floor landing. Not until a hand touched my shoulder did I realize that I’d been singled out.

Thinking that I’d been discovered, I spun around, ready to flee, but then the woman’s words filtered into my brain.

“...immediate assistance. Come with me.” She had a good grip on my shirt as she strode away, and before I could think of a way out, I was following her. A blue light was flashing steadily outside an exam room door, and she dragged me inside. An older man lay motionless on the exam table.

“CPR, stat,” the doctor ordered. “I need to intubate.”

I scoped out the situation, trying to decide whether I should just leave and risk exposure, or try to keep up my cover. I’d learned CPR in the Guard, but that had been years ago, and what if the Moon version was different than the UCLA version? Would the doctor notice?

I was on the verge of aborting the operation for today and just getting the fuck out of there, but then I looked again at the thin, wrinkled body on the bed. He was naked, like every patient was, since modesty didn’t exist for Workers. In his prime, he must have looked a lot like the others around here; muscular and brimming with health, but now, his skin hung loosely on his bones, and age spots dotted his hands and his bald head.

He had to be the oldest person I’d ever seen—even older than Paulina, the Head Archivist before my father. She’d been the only person I’d ever met who remembered the time before the Separation, at least until now; this old man looked like he might have been from the same generation. But Paulina Rusalkova had become a Moon, while this poor guy had ended up a Worker in the new world. How many Queens had he been forced to follow in his life?

Something rose up in me, telling me that I couldn’t walk away, and leave this man to die, no matter how it might expose me. The doctor had her back to me, getting her equipment ready, and hopefully hadn’t noticed my hesitation. Setting the tablet on the counter, I tried to dredge up what I remembered about CPR. The patient was already flat, on a relatively solid surface. The doctor was taking care of his airway, so then my only job was compressions.

I felt awkward climbing up on the table and straddling the old man’s groin, but this was the way I’d been taught. His skin was cool as I put my hand on his chest, and I wondered how long he’d been unresponsive. Putting everything else out of my head, I started my count, pressing firmly on his sunken chest, trying to push hard enough without breaking any of his fragile bones.

The doctor didn’t say a word about my technique, which had me feeling a little better. I kept up my steady rhythm, feeling the old man’s chest squish under my hands.

“Stop compressions,” the doctor said. For the first time, I got a good look at her. Doctor Eleanor O Neg was a very cute woman in her thirties. Her features and long black hair said that she was probably like me; a mix of Asian and European. When she leaned over the patient to line up the tube in his mouth, her plunging neckline revealed her smooth, full tits. She bit her lip in concentration as she forced the tube deeper, and if it wouldn’t have been out of character, I would have smiled. I loved seeing bits of natural humanity peek through the masks that most Workers wore.

She got the breathing tube in and connected the hose from a respirator. I jerked as the old man’s chest started rising and falling under my relaxed hands. His color came back, but his eyes stayed closed. I wondered what was wrong with him, but at the same time, I knew that it was a mystery I would have to leave unsolved. I had a mission to complete, which meant I didn’t have any time to indulge my curiosity.

While Doctor Eleanor adjusted the flow on the respirator, I climbed down off the table and collected my tablet. I inched toward the door, ready to get out as soon as I was sure it was allowed.

“You’re not dismissed,” Dr. Eleanor said. She applied two patches to the man’s chest, with leads going into another machine. When she flipped a switch, the monitor above the machine started beeping, and showed a weak heartbeat crawling across the screen. I felt pretty good that we’d saved the patient, but was getting nervous about the doctor’s reason for keeping me here.

“What’s your assignment, Nurse LaShawn?” she asked. She’d finished with the patient and was staring at me while I waited to be dismissed.

I’d tried to prepare for questions like this. “Laboratory Services,” I said. Basically, they were runners who took samples to the labs in the basement, and then carried results back to whoever requested them. I figured it would give me the most freedom to move around.

“Good,” she said. “The patient is stable, so sub out for the next fifteen minutes. Adrenal response from the emergency has triggered my need for sexual stimulation.”

Shit. This was the one thing I hadn’t wanted to get caught up in. While Eleanor was a good looking woman, and I usually didn’t mind a little romp when I was infiltrating a colony, the timing wasn’t great. I had to get to my target within the next hour, before she reported to the cafeteria for her midday meal. I’d been counting on that time as a head start before she would be missed.

There was also what I knew and what I didn’t know about this colony and the way they dealt with Worker sex. Eleanor had already stripped off her top, revealing a nice pair of tits. She didn’t even look at me as she walked out into the corridor. I poked my head out just in time to see her enter another exam room.

The next fifteen minutes were going to be hell, but I didn’t see any way out. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my anxiety, and followed her across the hall.

She was already naked, lying back on an empty exam table, playing with her bald pussy. None of the Workers that I’d seen so far had any hair below the eyebrows, and I was suddenly glad that I’d had Jazz and her razor take care of that little detail last night.

I was about to pull off my shirt when I remembered that I had all of my kidnapping supplies tied around my waist. When I’d interrupted Dr. Lisa and Nurse Cory two days ago, he’d kept his shirt on through the whole encounter, so I would do the same. My rubber shoes kicked free and my shorts followed. I tried to keep my limp cock below eye level, not sure what my level of response should be. The colony was female dominant when it came to sex, but I wasn’t sure exactly how much was done by command, and how much just happened naturally. Dr. Lisa had simply ordered her partner to cum, and I was already getting stage fright thinking about what would happen if I couldn’t perform according to the rules.

“Start with cunnilingus,” Dr. Eleanor ordered, stopping her masturbation and spreading her legs wider.

I sighed in relief. At least this part wouldn’t require anything beyond my ability. I got between her toned legs and bent closer. She had a very pretty pussy, the lips already swollen and wet with her arousal. Grabbing her legs behind the knees, I spread her even wider and dove in. My goal was to get her so satisfied with my oral ministrations that we’d use up our allotted time, and wouldn’t have to move into more dangerous activities.

I wriggled my tongue into her, parting her lips and lapping up her flowing juices. She wasn’t vocal at all, but I could feel the tension in her legs, and hear her breathing speed up. I circled her hole before plunging deeper, and caught her sudden gasp. When she started lifting her hips to meet me, I switched it up with light kisses on her smooth skin, followed by lightning flicks of my tongue across her clit. Her fingers trailed through my short hair, pulling me closer.

“You have an unusual technique, Nurse LaShawn,” she said.

I wondered what the prescribed method for eating pussy was in this colony, but then figured there was no point worrying about it now. I was sure my technique was superior to anything that the male workers learned from their programming. That wasn’t bragging, as much as it was a compliment to Elise, the Moon girl who had taught a much younger me so many things about pleasing women.

Since Workers are so readily available for sex, most Moons—at least the men—didn’t bother learning much except what works for them. ass, pussy, or mouth, hard and fast, or slow and sensual…whatever it took to get off, there was probably a Worker you could find to accommodate you.

Those moves don’t fly though, when the girl you’re with has a mind of her own. Elise had come to The Mountain from back east, to train under my mother as a logistics specialist. She’d told me her people were Italian, and from New York, but all I’d cared about was how gorgeous she was, with her long dark hair and curvy figure.

Almost from the time we’d met, she’d made it seem the most natural thing that we’d end up together, but our first time had been a complete disaster. I’d been devastated, but she’d been patient, and probably more understanding than I’d had a right to expect. By the time she left to return to the District Palace in Columbia, she’d declared me an “acceptable lover.”

Now, with my face buried in the smooth pussy of Dr. Eleanor, I tried to call up all of my past training. My dilemma was whether I should get her off quickly, or try to drag it out. If I made her cum right away, would that satisfy her “need for sexual stimulation” and she’d let me go? Or was she on a checklist, and finishing this first step would just lead to a demand for the next one? Licking at her sweet pussy and feeling her response was affecting my dick, but I didn’t want to put my readiness to the test if I didn’t have to.

I decided that, as much as I was enjoying the experience, my mission was more important. I didn’t have a lot of time to waste teasing this horny Worker—better to just give her what she wanted, and try to get away.

Not sure if it was protocol or not, I slid two fingers through her wet crease, getting them slick before delving into her tunnel. I sucked at her clit while massaging the upper wall of her pussy, searching for—

“Ah!” she gasped. Her legs tensed on my shoulders, and her hand tried to pull at my short hair.

Now that I’d found her spot, I attacked it relentlessly, while my tongue circled her clit. Her thighs tightened around my head, and her hips lifted off the exam table while she pulled me deeper into her.

When her orgasm hit, she crushed me between her legs, her heels kicking at my back. I was smothered in smooth flesh, and couldn’t hear if she was a screamer or not. I rode her bucking body, trying to drag out her orgasm as long as possible.

When she finally opened her thighs and released her death grip on my head, I eased my fingers from her relaxed pussy and raised my head.

Dr. Eleanor looked really cute as she stretched like a cat on the exam table. Her eyes were closed. Her skin was flushed, and her breasts rose and fell with her heavy breathing. Her legs hung off the end of the table, and her puffy, wet pussy was open and waiting.

My cock had no problem anymore, standing out rigid and throbbing. I was on the brink of slipping into her ready hole when reality made me pause. I’d decided not to fuck her, because of all the complications that would come with it. As badly as I wanted to slide into her warmth, I still had a mission to complete.

Luckily, when I caught sight of my borrowed tablet, the scheduling app showed that our fifteen minutes were up.

“I need to get back to my assignment,” I said, picking up my shorts from the floor.

“Do you need to ejaculate?” she asked.

Yes! But not now. ”No, Doctor,” I said, “I’m scheduled for more sexual activity later in my shift.“

That seemed to satisfy her. She sat up, her lovely tits bouncing, and grabbed her own tablet. I saw her open the memo app, and tap in my fake name. Trying to remember me for later? I smiled to myself, wondering what would happen the next time she summoned nurse LaShawn for another romp, and someone different showed up?

Hopefully, I would be hundreds of kilometers away by then. The tiny shorts were even more uncomfortable with my hard dick straining against the fabric, but I endured as I slipped on the rubber shoes and headed for the stairs. Only when I’d reached the third floor did I let out the breath I’d been holding.

I took a moment to gather myself. Missions like this involved so many ups and downs that it could cause me to lose focus. I used a breathing exercise that my father had taught me, and felt the jagged adrenaline ebbing from my body.

The corridor in front of me was empty. Thirty meters down should be...yes, there was a door there, with a light shining out into the hallway.

As I headed that direction, I unwrapped the strip of cloth from around my waist. Tucked inside was a pair of my knockout gloves, several meters of stout cord, a thick blindfold, and, just for absolute emergencies, a thin, double-edged knife in a leather sheath. I also had a couple other ID badges with me—Orderly Tamara O Neg for Dr. Rachel, and Nurse Trevor A Pos for me.

When I got to the open door, there was a pair of voices coming from inside. It wasn’t entirely unexpected, since Dr. Rachel was scheduled to see patients all morning.

“Your test results were all within parameters,” a voice said. That must be the doctor at work. “When is your next renewal day?”

“Thirteen days from today,” the second voice said.

“I’m moving you up to an alternate schedule, starting in two days. You’ll attend renewal with Block 81, then you’ll go to Room 102A for third-trimester prenatal instruction. I’ve already made the updates to your chart. Acknowledge your doctor’s orders.”

“Acknowledged, Doctor,” her patient said.

I found it interesting that part of the Worker programming was to accept orders from doctors as well as the Queen. Most Queens didn’t like giving up any of their control.

“Seventeen minutes until lunch,” the doctor said. “We’ll remain here until the scheduled time.”

Shit. I thought she would dismiss her patient, but that would probably mess with the schedule, letting people come and go at odd times. So if I wanted to get this done before Dr. Rachel left for lunch, I’d have to do it in front of the other woman.

I slipped on one of my gloves and took off the protective patch. Here we go.

Both women looked up as I entered. The exam room was the same size as the ones downstairs, but in place of the standard exam table, this one had an odd chair that was tipped back at an angle, with metal pieces extending from the seat in a V shape. I was momentarily confused, but I’m also not stupid, and when I saw that Dr. Rachel’s patient was heavily pregnant, the purpose of the chair was clear. Still, that meant I would have to go searching for a wheeled gurney to smuggle out the doctor.

“What’s your purpose here, nurse?” Dr. Rachel asked. She was a tall woman, rather thin, with brown hair in a thick braid down her back.

Standing behind her, pulling on her oversized green shorts, was her patient. Her pregnant belly stretched out her thin top, and her swelling breasts were barely contained by the low-cut front. When she turned to face me, her name tag read “Technician Zuzanna O Neg.” Her black hair and slightly angled eyes stirred something in me, and I took a moment to look closer. What was it about her that suddenly felt familiar?

“Nurse LaShawn, answer my question.”

“I’m delivering the test results you requested, Doctor,” I said, stepping closer.

“I didn’t—”

My hand came down on her arm, and I held it there the required four seconds. The doctor’s knees buckled, and I caught her before she could fall. I held my gloved hand up and away, so I didn’t accidentally touch my own skin, while lowering the unconscious woman to the floor.

I stood up and faced her patient, trying to decide which course of action to take. While my original plan had been to tranq her with the other glove, I realized that I’d never used my knockout gel on a pregnant woman. Supposedly it was safe, but I’d never been in a position to test it. But that meant either tying her up and blindfolding her, or somehow trying to get her to ignore what I was doing.

She didn’t react, other than straightening her clothes and slipping on her shoes. She was short, with a round face made even rounder by her condition. I wasn’t an expert on most nationalities, but she looked like she was mixed, like me; Asian features blended with something European. And her name...Zuzanna…it almost sounded like the name that my—

Oh, shit.

I blinked, and leaned in closer, trying to get a better look at her. “Technician Zuzanna, do you know if you were born here in UCLA colony?”

“I don’t know.” She tilted her head, in either curiosity or confusion. The movement was so familiar that it sealed my own surety; it was the same look that my mother gave me whenever I was being annoying.

I looked at the doctor, stretched out on the floor, then back up at the pregnant woman that maybe…probably…was my younger sister.

A beep from the tablet brought me back to the reality at hand. I was neck-deep in an extraction, in danger of getting caught with an unconscious worker and all of the tools of a kidnapper. I still hadn’t figured out the extent of the security protocols for this colony, but once the alarm was raised, there would be a hundred and sixty thousand pairs of eyes looking for the intruder among them.

“Technician Zuzanna, if I, hypothetically, asked you to come with me, would you obey?”

“I’m scheduled for my meal in eleven minutes,” she said. “Doctor Rachel said I need to get all of my recommended calories and nutrients. Unless you could get an override, then, hypothetically, I would refuse to go with you. Was that the right answer?” She cocked her head again, and my certainty solidified.

“That answer was fine. Very helpful,” I said, peeling off my used glove and reaching for the new one. “How about we just wait here together?”