The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Get this fucking bag off my head!” I screamed, but the sound was drowned out by the noise of fans and machinery. I thrashed in the chair. The vinyl cushions stuck to my bare skin as I tried to wriggle out of the wrist and ankle restraints. A cool blast of air blew over my exposed ass from below, but my rigid cock was warm and protected inside the huffing, chugging mechanical contraption that Wendy had strapped across my hips.

Chemicals and electrodes might be keeping me hard as stone, and soft, lubricated membranes might be slithering up and down my enclosed flesh, but I was no nearer to cumming than I’d been in the last six attempts.

Finally, the pneumatic sounds faded, and the machine came to a stop, sitting heavy and awkward on my crotch. Hands fumbled at the mass of plastic and tubes covering my head, and I sucked in gulps of fresh air when it was finally lifted off.

Queen Wendy was right there at my side, just like she’d been for the last three days. “Nothing, again?”

I wanted to glare and say something very rude, but I held back. She hadn’t mentioned harming my sister in a long time, and I didn’t want to goad her into returning to her previous threats.

Two technicians detached the hoses from the machine covering my dick and lifted it off with no consideration for my rigid state. I winced as my hard shaft bent, then sighed when I was completely free. Orange-tinted lube ran down over my balls and between my open thighs.

“No,” I finally answered. “I told you before, things like this really don’t work on me.”

“On you, specifically, or on all Immunes?” Wendy asked. She turned to the Worker next to her, making sure that her questions were being properly recorded.

“Hell if I know. It doesn’t work on me, that’s all I can tell you.”

The Queen frowned. “Odd. Queen Esmeralda of the Glendale colony used this same technique to extract sperm from her male Workers. I helped her design her colony breeding system myself.”

“Why didn’t she just order them to ejaculate on demand?” I’d seen plenty of situations, even in Wendy’s colony where male Workers had been ordered to cum without any other type of stimulation. The withering look that Wendy gave me said that the two Queens must have figured that out eventually.

I wanted to laugh, but again held my tongue. The Queen of UCLA was so caught up in her “science” that of course she’d designed a complex machine to extract my semen instead of just getting it the natural way. The same could be said for her system of gathering her Queenly pheromones and microbes. While at first glance I’d thought it was quite clever in its originality, the more I’d thought about her process, the more I was convinced that it was too complex for its purpose.

No one had taught her about Occam’s Razor, apparently. A couple of big-dicked Workers could have had her flushed and panting like anyone else, but Wendy preferred her technology, which meant strapping herself to the exact same chair I was currently occupying, and having machines get her off.

The technicians were finally getting around to releasing my restraints, and I eyed the double doors on the far wall. As if they’d read my thoughts, my six giant bodyguards formed a barricade between me and freedom. Gregor must have provided them with a checklist of situations where I might try to escape. I sighed and looked back at Queen Wendy, but she was still involved with issuing orders to her minions.

A male technician tried to go after my lube-coated dick with a towel, but I snatched it from his hands and took care of cleaning myself up. The concoction smelled like turpentine, which might have been one of the reasons that the process had failed. The ancient ads for sex products that popped up in some of my porn vids always touted scents like strawberry and coconut, not petroleum. Either way, I’d need to hit the showers to get the viscous stuff completely off.

Wendy had finished with her Workers and finally noticed that I was free and upright. My dick still hadn’t gone down from whatever drug she’d given me, and I made sure to aim it at her like a shotgun as she approached. For all of her interest in what it produced, her eyes never looked down as she stopped in front of me.

“We’ll need time to recalibrate the machine,” she said. “Some of the pressure sensors weren’t aligned properly. I’m sure it will work as intended in tomorrow’s session. You can return to your room.”

This time I did laugh. “What the hell do you think you’re accomplishing here? What exactly is the need for all of the gadgets? I thought we were doing fine in the…uh…extraction department.”

“Your ejaculations are adequate for my current purposes.”

I just smiled at her, wiggling my hips a little to see if she’d look down at my cock. Still nothing.

“But what’s wrong with the stuff you get the normal way?” I asked.

“The ‘normal’ way, as you call it, isn’t scientifically controlled. By the time my technicians extract it from the vagina or anus of your partner, or scrape it off their skin, it’s been contaminated with that Worker’s DNA. At this stage of my research, I need a pure sample. I need to see how your Double-Immune DNA interacts with my own, without any other genes getting in the mix. I’m trying to subjugate the world’s Workers, not become one of them.”

I clamped my mouth shut before I blurted out one of the dozen solutions I saw to her problem. Like a condom, for one. Getting me to jerk off into a cup for another. Once again I marveled that someone who’d shown such flashes of intelligence and cunning could be blind in so many other areas. In the end, it all came down to common sense: Queens had no reason for it, and Baggers couldn’t survive without it. With that little mini-revelation, I felt a renewed hope that I would find a way to escape and derail this mad Queen’s plan.

An idea started to form. “Well if you only want my DNA and yours in the mix, why aren’t you the one collecting it?” I asked.

Wendy’s eyes went wide. “You mean…?”

I reached down and waggled my rampant cock. “Fresh and pure from the source.”

Her gaze finally settled on my dick. I could see the gears spinning in her brain as she ran the possibilities through her “scientific” mind. For the first time since I’d met the stunning Queen, I thought I saw the faintest flicker of doubt flash in her eyes.

“Take him to his room,” she said, wheeling abruptly to face the guards. She didn’t say anything more as the six behemoths formed up around me, but I could still feel her eyes on my naked ass as we marched out.

I wasn’t sure how many hours had passed.

Jia and Michelle had been sent to my room to help me deal with the issue of my chemically-induced hardon, and we’d spent more time than normal running through the list of positions. When I finally came in Jia’s tight pussy, I’d felt Queen Wendy’s gaze boring into me through the camera lens. At that moment I’d created a new number for our list, having Michelle spoon my cum out of Jia with her fingers then feed it to the cute dark-haired girl. There would be no extractions performed in some cold lab once they’d left.

I’d tried to sleep, but my mind kept returning to Wendy’s need for my “pure” DNA. She’d let it slip that she was trying to use my unique chemistry to modify her own genetics. I guess that made more sense, just from a logistics perspective than trying to remake every Worker in the world.

Queens already had the ability to enslave any Worker they encountered; that was the whole basis for my secret occupation. The only flaw in the system—the quirk that had established this global equilibrium that the Guard tried so hard to maintain—was the temporary nature of the bond.

The constant need for renewal kept each colony small enough to handle and locked them into their location. It would be nearly impossible for a colony to migrate unless they could conduct renewals on the road. And the process of converting Workers to follow a new Queen could take weeks or months, while the old bond was broken down and the new one was built.

On my very first day here, when I’d first met Michelle and Jia, Wendy had bragged about the ways she was modifying her Workers. She had tripled the period between renewals for her test subjects, but she hadn’t been able to make it permanent. What if she was now attacking the problem from a new direction? Instead of changing how Workers reacted to a normal Queen, was she changing the nature of what a Queen could do? If she could somehow make the bond permanent from her end, she could sweep through the colonies like a virus, infecting the Workers then abandoning them to continue their lives with no need for renewal, leaving her free to attack the next target.

It was so ambitious that it almost made me respect the psychotic Queen. I didn’t think she could enslave the entire planet, since just traveling to all 46,000 colonies would take decades. What really concerned me was the chaos she would leave in her wake as she took over a colony and then moved on. Without some semblance of free will to manage the daily grind, even the smallest hiccup in a colony’s routine could throw the whole thing into a tailspin.

Say a water source got contaminated, who would order the colony to stop drinking from it until the problem was solved? And who would actually be around to solve the problem? The Guard? Not if no one would listen to their advice. Millions would die waiting for their exalted Queen Wendy to fix it, when she could be halfway across the continent.

I was sure that Wendy hadn’t thought through the entire process, but her Queenly ego, fueled by her diet of Pre-Separation action thrillers, wouldn’t let her consider anything other than her need to conquer the world.

And it seemed that the key ingredient to her plan was my DNA.

If she did succeed in creating her magic potion, would the Guard be able to stop her? Normally, if her colony had been somewhere else, she might have taken over two or three of her neighbors before someone in the Guard put a bullet in her brain. But here in L.A. she had that traitor, Gregor. Would he go against all of Moonkind and protect her from being punished in return for mountains of gold and unlimited Worker pussy?

For the first time since I’d been dumped in this sterile, temperature-controlled prison, I actually felt a chill.

I didn’t understand her reasoning, but she was adamant that she needed my Double-Moon semen instead of blood or tissue. I had to believe it came from all of the myths that sprang up during the Dark Times, just after the Great Separation.

No one then had fully understood what was happening to the human race, and with the death or enslavement of 99% of the population, rumors were the currency of the day. Word had gotten around that the best way to keep strong control, and ensure the colony’s Workers stayed healthy, was to have lots of sex. So before any other theories could creep in, it became the law of the land.

My Moon ancestors had still been fighting for their lives against the new, highly-paranoid Queens, so there’d been no voice of reason to disprove the theory. According to the Guard’s best scientists, sex had very little to do with the process of Worker control; Queens could easily perform their renewal duties just by getting some vigorous exercise. Fifty jumping jacks could produce nearly the same microbes and pheromones as a good fuck, but try explaining that to the suspicious and hedonistic rulers of the world.

Fortunately, as much as Queen Wendy was breaking with other traditions, she was following the ingrained dogma that said anything to do with the interactions of Queens, Workers, and Immunes must come from sex. That gave me a lot more opportunities to stall, but I knew that eventually I’d have to give in, if only because she might get frustrated enough to threaten my sister or nephew again.

My mind was still cycling through the possibilities when the door flew open. I jumped up, more anxious than I’d been in quite a while.

“Leopold Takayama,” Queen Wendy said as she breezed into the room, ”I have considered what you said in the collection room earlier, and I believe it makes sound, scientific sense.” Before I could answer she was standing at the foot of the bed. She’d hadn’t worn her lab coat this time, so she was able to grip the hem of her top and peel it right up over her head. Her full breasts bobbed on her chest, smooth brown globes with fat, dark nipples. “Remove your clothes,” she said, as she attacked the fastener on her tight pants.

I’d seen the tall, athletic Queen naked before, just after her odd renewal procedure, but this was the first time that her nudity had anything to do with me personally. I watched her move as she took off her white boots, seeing her tight abs ripple as she twisted, and her heavy tits bobbing.

My six guards had filed in behind their Queen, standing in a row in front of the door, tasers in hand. Without a word, I started taking off my own clothes. Since mine were looser and simpler than hers, I was done first, and continued my up-close evaluation of my captor.

Her waist was narrow and sinuous, flaring out into rounded hips and muscular thighs. She didn’t try to hide her bald pussy from my view, but she wasn’t flashing it at me either. When she finished getting everything off, she stood in place, watching me as I watched her. She kept the same uptight posture as always, not trying to pose or tease in any way, but her body was so perfect I couldn’t help staring just a little.

“Now what?” I finally asked.

“Now we have sex, and when you cum, the sample will only have our two genetic profiles, which will make it usable for my experiments.”

“OK, that sounds great, but with one concern on my part.”

“Which is?”

“Do you, uh, know how to have sex with someone who’s not your Worker?” From the way her Workers acted, it looked like a lot of their sexual programming was a legacy from some earlier Queen. Nothing I’d seen so far from Wendy, or from her “experiments” like Jia and Michelle, indicated any familiarity with good old-fashioned fucking.

“Personally? No,” she said. “But I do my research. Several of L.A.’s male Queens, Captain Gregor and five other men of the Guard, even my own predecessor Queen Trevor, have all recorded themselves in the act, and I have spent the last few hours studying.”

Wonderful. I wouldn’t hold up that collection of “men” as any kind of example. After declaring herself an expert, Queen Wendy went back to her same rigid posture, hands at her sides, her eyes staring off into space over my shoulder, not making any attempt to be sexy. The seconds stretched out in silence as I quietly dared her to make the first move.

She finally got impatient enough to meet my eyes. “All of my research into free-thinking, heterosexual men says that the sight of my naked body should get you aroused enough to fuck me.” She put her hands on her hips and looked down at my dick. I almost expected her to start tapping her foot, waiting for it to rise. “So are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Heterosexual.”

“You’ve watched me how many times with Michelle and Jia, and you still ask?”

“Then why isn’t it working? According to all available statistics, my body is much more appealing in form than any of my Workers. Your male instincts should make you want to have sex with me. Your fellow Moon Captain Gregor has no problem getting hard and fucking any Worker I put in front of him.”

“That’s what makes free will such a bitch,” I said. “Gregor would fuck a hole in the ground if that’s all that was available, but my tastes—my personal, unique Moonie desires—are much different than his. Just flashing your tits like that isn’t enough to get me going. And the debacle with the machines should have proven to you by now that it takes more than a warm hole to make me cum,” I said.

She frowned at the word “debacle,” obviously not liking to be reminded of her failures, but she didn’t try to defend herself. Instead, she went back to staring into space. I tried not to look at her lush body, since a sudden erection would just complicate things.

“Fine,” she finally said. “Get dressed and be ready to leave in the next ten minutes.”

She spun on her heels, her fabulous ass churning as she stalked out the door.

Even under my hood, I could hear the crash of waves and smell the salt air of the ocean through the open window of the ancient shuttle bus. The short ride from UCLA had been completely silent, although I knew Wendy was seated somewhere nearby.

Brakes squealed as the jitney came to a sharp stop. I tested the Guard-issue plastic cuffs around my wrists, but I wouldn’t be getting my hands free until Wendy wanted them that way.

“Get him up,” the Queen commanded. A dozen meaty hands grabbed at me, nearly throwing me from my seat.

The shuttle’s door opened with a squeak. “Hello, Wendy,” a deep voice said, and I stiffened as I recognized Queen Alexander. “Nice to see you. What are you doing in my colony?”

“I need something from you,” Wendy said. No pleasantries, and no attempt at asking for help.

As I heard her tone, an idea crept into my head. She was treating the Queen of Santa Monica like another one of her Workers, but I knew him well enough, and like every one of his kind, Alexander had a Queen-sized ego. Having a peer like Wendy bark orders must have offended him. I hated Alexander with all of my being for the way he’d sold me out, but I thought that if I played it right, maybe I could pit these two against each other, and make my escape in the confusion. If only they’d take this damned hood off so I could—

“Absolutely, Wendy. Whatever you want.”

OK…so much for that theory.

“Let’s go inside, and I’ll explain.”

I heard them walk away, but without me in tow. Explain what? Why were we in Santa Monica?

Hands guided me in a different direction than the two Queens had gone. We moved indoors, and the sound of the ocean vanished. The scent changed from saltwater to something else that stirred my memories. Alexander liked a particular type of old-world perfume for his female Workers, and the air was full of it as I was pushed down on a soft seat.

The hood finally came off, and beyond the looming bodies of my six guards the first thing I saw was the giant head of a beautiful blonde, her scarlet lips opened wide as she took an immense black cock into her throat. I’d seen that particular image before, and knew that I was in one of Queen Alexander’s “playrooms.”

With my hands still tied behind me, all I could do was sit and admire the tasteless erotic decorations that the perverted Queen had assembled. A lot of the images on the walls and ceiling were taken from the vids I’d sold him over the years. Some of the equipment, too, including a giant X-shaped wooden frame in one corner. Still, with my knowledge of his tastes in porn, and based on the things that weren’t on display, I decided that this must be the “basic” sex room, for when Alexander wasn’t feeling adventurous.

Minutes passed in complete silence; me in a padded leather chair, and my guards forming their familiar wall in front of the only door. The soft light, pleasant scents. and warm temperature had my eyes starting to droop. After months on my plain, utilitarian bed, the giant, fluffy monstrosity in the middle of the room looked like a soft slice of heaven. What would my guards do if I got up out of this chair and laid down to take a nap…?

Before I could test their reactions, the door opened and Wendy came in. The Queen of UCLA looked incredibly hot, and incredibly ridiculous as she tried to cross the room on her high-heeled shoes. She’d changed into a white lingerie ensemble that was simply devastating against her dark skin, The lace bustier cinched in her already narrow waist, and shoved her uncovered tits up and out like they were on a shelf. Her white panties and garter belt had red bows at the sides with matching bows at the tops of the sheer stockings. Her hair had been piled on top of her head in a loose black halo. What completely ruined the effect for me, though, was her face. Her eyelids were painted a bright blue that sparkled every time she blinked. Her lips were as bright red as the cock-sucking woman in the picture behind her, and her cheeks were two garish rosy circles on either side of her face.

I knew the look that she’d been trying for, since I’d seen it on every one of Alexander’s harem girls. The problem was, the ability to pull off Pre-Separation sexiness had been lost long ago. Most of Alexander’s sex slaves looked closer to the ancient entertainer called a “clown,” than they did to the sultry, erotic women in the vids.

Of course, that was just my opinion. In Alexander’s eyes, his women were perfect—old-world lust resurrected just for his pleasure.

“Do you find this attractive, Leopold Takayama?” Wendy asked. Her voice still had the same clipped, clinical tone, even as it poured from her scarlet lips. She stood ramrod straight, like she still had on her lab coat and was questioning me about one of her experiments. Which in a way she was.

“It’s very nice, Wendy. Very sexy.”

“Does it make you want to fuck me now?” She turned to show me her toned ass, framed by the garters and split by the string of her white thong, but one of her ankles buckled as she tried to spin in her high shoes and she yelped in surprise trying to regain her balance.

I almost laughed, which would have been a major mistake. “It helps,” I said.

“Get undressed. I want to be ready when your cock is finally hard.” She tugged at the bows on her panties and they came undone, the thin strip of white fluttering to the floor. Her hairless pussy looked like it was clamped tightly closed, only the thinnest line splitting the smooth lips. She certainly didn’t look ready to jump on a hard dick

“Umm.” I got up and turned around, showing her that my hands were still bound.

She waved, and one of the guards came at me. I watched the knife in his hand, thinking of all the damage I could do if I took it away from him, but the other five guards were in exactly the right position to stop me from breaking free before their tasers took me down. I sighed and held out my hands behind me.

When I was free, I started taking off the minimal clothing that I’d put on. “So your research included asking Queen Alexander for help?’

“Queen Alexander has tried before to explain the nuances of free-willed sex, but even after his demonstrations, he lacked the intelligence to create a proper, quantifiable formula. Instead, I’ve decided to get first-hand instruction in your unique…uh, Alexander called them ‘kinks.’ Come in here.”

I turned to see who she was talking to, and a flash of white and copper appeared between the bodies of the giant guards. Then the pale, lush body and silky red hair of Roxy appeared. She didn’t even glance at me, her adoring gaze reserved only for Wendy.

“What does this have to do with Roxy?” At the mention of her name, the adorable Worker finally looked at me. Not that I’d expected anything, but her complete lack of reaction still left me a little disappointed.

“Knowing that you had fucked this Worker fourteen times in the past, and had seemed to respond to her sexual techniques, I borrowed her to study her methods.”

“Good,” I said, “Roxy and I had a lot of fun together.” I gripped my dick and waved it. “Roxy! On your knees. Time to suck my cock.”

The redhead’s eyes opened a little wider, and she took a step toward me, mouth open and tongue out. Somewhere in her head were the commands that Alexander had given her that night; the ones that said to obey me at all times unless it threatened her Queen. Apparently, his new orders to obey Wendy hadn’t canceled out the old ones. Wendy stood stunned for a second, but then grabbed Roxy by the hair and pulled her back.

“What are you doing?” she said, glaring at me. “I never said that this Worker was going to have sex with you. The point is to keep your semen free of her DNA.”

My fists clenched as I saw the way that she yanked on Roxy’s hair. The naked redhead didn’t react, other than to stand where the Queen directed her, but I knew it must have hurt. “No need to be violent about it,” I said. “If you don’t explain yourself properly, how am I supposed to know what you want?”

The confused Queen blinked a couple times and then let go of Roxy’s hair. I didn’t think she’d ever been admonished like that before.

I sat down on the bed. “So, what then? How are we supposed to do this?”

“Stay there. Do not approach him,” Wendy said, leaving Roxy between her and the guards. She came to stand in front of me, her hands on her hips in a rare display of annoyance.

I was nose-to-pussy with her, admiring the view. I couldn’t see any stubble and wondered how she got so smooth down there. Jazz had helped me shave everything before the first time I’d infiltrated the UCLA colony, and it had itched like fire for a week as all the hair slowly grew back. Maybe Wendy used some chemical to—

“Look at me, Leopold Takayama.”

Oh, oh. Someone was getting frustrated. I slowly lifted my head, getting a nice look at her taut abs, and the round perfection of her tits. Her nipples stuck out, either from exposure to the air conditioning, or from some secret excitement she was getting from this situation. Her jaw was set, and her dark eyes stared down into mine.

“You are going to do this,” she said, “without any more attempts at delay. I have seen Miami Pulse 2: The Beatdown Goes On and I know what you’re trying to do. Don’t force me to break our arrangement.”

I sighed and nodded. In the movie, the hero had been stalling during his seduction of the villain’s mistress, giving his partner time to rescue the hostages. Too bad that in the real world there was no plucky sidekick waiting outside this room to help me escape. Wendy could be easily manipulated at times, but in certain instances—especially if she’d seen it in a damned movie—she could be as shrewd as a Moon.

“Fine. What am I doing then, if I’m not having sex with Roxy?”

“You will have sex with me, and Roxy will provide instruction and commentary on how to stimulate you properly. Once you cum, either inside or on my body, then I will allow you to play with Alexander’s Worker.”

So this was really going to happen, it seemed. I was about to fuck a Queen for the first time. Honestly, I wasn’t looking forward to it. While Wendy had a spectacular body—far better than any Queen, male or female, that I’d ever seen—there were so many other things keeping me from diving in. I remembered all of the cruelties, and the threats, not to mention her plan to take over the world. Could I really do it under all of that baggage?

I would if I wanted to survive. That’s all a Bagger could hope to do in this messed up world.

I’d done it before. Not with a Queen, but how many mindless, robotic Workers had I fucked in the pursuit of my secret job? I’d endured the blank stares, limp bodies, and dry holes because if I hadn’t…well the punishment for getting caught kidnapping Workers would have been swift and violent. In those cases though, the rush of stealing from a Queen had been exciting enough to get me through. With Wendy, it was not just my safety at stake, but my sister’s, and my young nephew’s, and…pretty much everyone I cared about.

No pressure, I thought, as I looked down at my limp dick. You better give the performance of your life, champ, or we’re all in trouble.

“Right,” I said standing up suddenly. “Let’s get this going.” I turned to Roxy. “What’s first on the menu?”

The redheaded Worker just stared blankly, until Queen Wendy moved toward her. Alexander must have really reined in her personality when he put her under Wendy’s control. Or had that been Wendy’s doing?

When Alexander had given me those three Workers for that night in the hills, he’d basically waved his hand at them and said “Do everything that Leo orders.” With the way Wendy treated her Workers, Roxy’s normal behavior would have been too uncontrolled for her taste, so she’d likely dialed her back. Too bad, since I’d liked Roxy’s bubbly persona, fake or not.

“First on the menu was to get your clothes off, which we’ve already accomplished,” Wendy said. “Continue from there, Roxy.”

“After stripping, it depends,” Roxy said. “If Master wants to ‘move things along,’ I’d go right to a blowjob. If he’s more relaxed, he likes to pet me, and sometimes we kiss.”

“And what did Leopold Takayama prefer on those nights you were with him?” Wendy asked.

“Umm, he really didn’t have a preference. One night he came home and just bent me right over a chair, commanded me to get aroused, and filled my pussy from behind. But another time we did something he called ‘cuddling’ for almost an hour.”

“Statistically, though, what did you do most often?”

Roxy tilted her head in the cutest way while she searched her memories. I thought back as well, trying to recall everything we’d done.

“I sucked Master’s dick first,” Roxy said. “Nine times out of fourteen.”

“Good. We’re finally getting somewhere.” Wendy came toward me. “Lie back on the bed, Leopold Takayama.”

I watched her amazing body as she approached, the sway of her hips and the swing of her heavy tits. She was beautiful and sexy, but my stomach cramped in fear, and my dick shriveled a little more if that was possible. Giving in to the inevitable, I backed onto the low bed and scooted my naked ass toward the center. Knowing what was coming, I opened my legs to give Queen Wendy room.

Surprisingly, rather than climbing onto the bed, she turned to look back at Roxy.

“You get on your knees,” Roxy said. “There, between his legs. Get your face close to Master’s cock.”

Wendy turned back and assessed the situation, then joined me on the bed. Her hand was cool and dry as she placed it on my thigh. “Come over here, next to me,” she said over her shoulder. When Roxy stood beside us, Wendy pointed at my limp dick, hanging between my open legs. “What do I do with it?”

“You start by taking it in your hand, then you stick out your tongue and give it a lick. Master likes when I swirl my tongue around and around on the head, while God Alexander prefers that I…”

As she spoke, Wendy followed her commands. I jerked as I felt the first touch of her Queenly hand on my dick, then winced as she gripped me like a vice. Her warm breath blew over me, and then her wet tongue gave a swipe over the tip. Then another. Then another. She licked at me like she’d already divided the surface area of my cock into quadrants, and was making sure to apply the same amount of saliva to each designated section.

I looked down my body, to where her fist wrapped around my shaft, and her pink tongue lapped at the head of my dick. In my head, it was kind of exciting, seeing the haughty Queen on her knees licking at the cock of a lowly Bagger. But my gut still couldn’t accept the fact that this was sexy in any way. Despite the warm motion of her tongue, I stayed unresponsive.

After the timer in her head told her that she’d done enough licking, Wendy pulled away and looked up at Roxy. “Nothing’s happening. What’s wrong?” She didn’t even bother looking at me, which said a lot about her attitude toward this whole process. She assumed that there was a checklist that she could follow, and in the end, she’d get the uncontaminated DNA she so desperately wanted.

Roxy was busy explaining how to pump the shaft with her hand, and take the head of my dick between her lips, making sure not to get her—

“Ow!” I pushed Wendy’s head away as her teeth raked over my sensitive flesh.

Immediately, the six guards rushed at me, tasers out, ready to subdue me as I attacked their Queen.

Despite the mix of annoyance and confusion on Wendy’s face, she had enough presence of mind to order them to halt. She kept a tight hold on my cock, even as I tried to move away from her.

This whole operation was going nowhere. If my dick weren’t throbbing in pain, I might have laughed at how absurd it was—the mindless leading the clueless.

“Look, Wendy, as much as I want to help you, I don’t think this particular experiment is going to succeed. Would you mind if I make some suggestions? No tricks, I promise.”

She looked at me with her big dark eyes, and then down at the wet end of my dick, still wrapped in her tight fist. While she was probably incapable of self-doubt, she seemed to recognize that this procedure wasn’t going to work under these circumstances. “What is your suggestion?”

As much as I wanted this whole thing to not happen, the more frustrated Wendy got, the more chance there was that she would take out her disappointment on everyone around her. I didn’t want to see Roxy punished, and I certainly didn’t want her going after Zuzanna or Oliver. Or me, for that matter. So when I considered my poor choice of options, I took the one with the least chance of anyone getting hurt.

“Let me control things,” I said. “I take charge of the procedure, and in the end, you get what you want. I know more than anyone else about what stimulates a Moon.”

The gears turned in her head some more, but she came to her usual quick decision. “Yes. I agree. But what do you mean when you say you will ‘take charge’”?

“I mean that you have to tell your guards not to attack me, no matter what I do to you. You can give them a control word, as an alarm, if you think I’m not acting in good faith. But for this to work, you need to let me handle your body.”

This time her decision took longer. I knew that the sticking point was going to be giving up control. Someone who’d been raised to always be in charge, who’d never had anyone restrict her in any way, was going to have to wrap her head around the idea of letting someone else call the shots.

While Queen Wendy pondered things, I looked over at Roxy, still standing silently next to the bed. I missed the bubbly personality that Alexander’s loose control had allowed to peek through. When I thought of a world full of Workers all following Wendy’s lifeless, “scientific” protocols, I was more determined than ever that she shouldn’t succeed.

Unfortunately, this wasn’t the time or the place to dismantle her evil scheme. Baggers learn early on that there are no good options if you’re dead, so the first choice should always be the one that keeps you alive. I would play along now so that I could find other chances in the future.

“I agree to your proposal, Leopold Takayama,” Wendy said, snapping out of her reverie as abruptly as she did everything else. “But I must warn you, if you betray me in any way, I will see to it that—”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, waving away the rest of her threats. “I get it. And I know how serious you are. If you don’t mind, can we just get to it?”

I was pushing her to see if she could handle being interrupted. The next part of my evolving plan was going to go against most of her natural instincts, so it was better to find these things out early, before we were in a more compromised position.

Wendy’s mouth had opened at my interruption, but then I smiled to myself as she closed it. “Yes. Let’s begin.” She finally released her death grip on my dick and got up from the bed. Roxy was banished to the corner of the room to watch, and the guards were given their instructions, along with their Queen’s safe word. “Help” was the most original thing she could come up with.

I sat back against the headboard, watching the naked Queen. Somehow, I had to get this alien creature to trust me enough to let me have sex with her. Ironically, when inspiration hit, it came from one of Wendy’s favorite resources: pre-Separation movies.

While the Queen was obsessed with spy thrillers and action movies, I was dredging up what I remembered from a type called “hallmarks.” If this was going to work I had to try the lost art of seduction—something I’d never had any need for until now. Other than Workers, who simply complied with my every fantasy, my only other experience had been with Elise, and I certainly hadn’t been the one doing the seducing in that relationship.

By the time Queen Wendy came back to the bed, I’d cycled through all of the movies I remembered, as well as that small percentage of my hardcore vids that had dealt with “making love” rather than sex.

“How do you want to begin?” Wendy asked.

I moved over a little more on the bed and held out my hand. “How about a number twelve?”

I knew that Wendy had witnessed, cataloged, and analyzed everything I’d ever done with Michelle and Jia, so she would know exactly what a number twelve was. “Number twelve only occurs after you orgasm,” she said. “Why are you asking for it now?”

I crossed my arms, giving her an exaggerated look of disappointment. “I thought we agreed that I was in charge. If you want your DNA sample, then no more questions. Number twelve. Now.”

I saw more confusion and doubt in the beautiful Queen’s face than I’d ever seen before. If she hadn’t been a psychotic would-be conqueror, I might have felt sorry for her, having to deal with so many new concepts in such a short time.

In the end, though, her logic took over and she crawled onto the bed with me. I opened my arms and she awkwardly settled against me, head on my chest, arm across my stomach and one toned leg draped over mine. Her skin was warm and silky smooth, and if I could put all of her other evil qualities behind me, I might end up enjoying this more than I expected.

I squeezed her shoulders and ran my other hand over her bare leg. She stiffened under my touch. A quick glance at the guards showed that they were following their new instructions. I kept up my light caresses until Wendy gave the smallest sigh, and I felt her relax against me.

I ran my hands over her perfect body, avoiding her tits and pussy for the moment. She wiggled at times when I touched somewhere ticklish, but mostly she watched the progress of my hands as they glided over her flesh. I leaned down to kiss the soft skin of her neck and heard her gasp.

I’d put aside the idea of trying to teach her the nuances of mouth-to-mouth kissing, and instead explored her neck and shoulders, and the special place Elise had taught me behind the ear. Wendy’s breath came faster, and her magnificent tits rolled on her chest. As I planted a firm kiss on her neck I reached up to cup her breast, squeezing gently and brushing a finger over the dark nipple.

The haughty Queen moaned at my touch. One hand clutched at the blanket, while the other squeezed my leg. She was incredibly responsive to my gliding fingers, and I wondered how much actual sex she’d had in her life. Before the adoption of her “scientific” methods, had she ever ordered one of her male Workers to get hard and then just used him for her own pleasure? Thinking I might have a chance to score some goodwill, or at least find a way around her rigid control, I called up all of the lessons that Elise had taught me about pleasing women.

I scooted us down until we were flat on the bed, still caressing her breasts and stroking her nipples into fat, hard points. I moved down her chest, licking and kissing at her soft skin.

She squirmed and let out a louder, more uncontrolled moan. I was pleased, but that little bit of vulnerability seemed to snap Wendy out of whatever need she’d been in. Her body stiffened under my fingers, and she put a hand on my shoulder, trying to push me away. I lifted my head to look down at her, and saw the same confusion as before. After a lifetime of controlling everything, she just didn’t know how to let go.

“Remember, you promised,” I said, taking her hand off my shoulder and pinning her wrist to the bed. She fought my grip but I held tight. I squeezed her wrist, hard enough for her to feel. “Stop it.”

Fire flashed in her eyes, and I thought my brilliant idea was going to end before it had begun. I knew the Queen had never been told “no” until I came along, but I couldn’t have her constantly engaging in some battle of wills while I was trying to pleasure her. And pleasure me. Wasn’t it the point that she wanted my cum?

Maybe the same thoughts had run through Wendy’s brain because her arms relaxed and her head sank back onto the mattress. Despite my earlier concerns about the power dynamics, I leaned down and gave her a firm kiss on the lips. She opened her mouth just a bit, and I took the opportunity to probe quickly with my tongue before she clamped her lips shut and I moved away.

Obviously, seduction wasn’t working on the strong-willed Queen. Instead of me trying to teach her something so new and complex, maybe the response I was looking for was already in her head, and just needed the right trigger to call them up…

“Wendy, have you ever seen Illicit Obsession?”

“Yes, several times.”

Good. The movie was one of the more explicit erotic thrillers I’d seen, but with a plot that would definitely appeal to the Queen; a terrorist mastermind tries to outwit the square-jawed hero and blow up the country’s leader during a high-stakes political summit. The only difference between that movie and all of the others of its ilk, was that the terrorist was a gorgeous dark-haired woman, who spent most of the movie in bed with the hero. The plot had never made sense to me, but it was the sex scenes between NSA Officer Trevor Black and the sultry yet deadly Nadeera al-Majid that were the point.

“OK, then. In this situation, I’m Trevor, and you are Nadeera, and I’ve just broken into your safe house in Damascus. Got it?”

Her eyes narrowed as she played the scene in her mind, then suddenly opened wide. “What? But Nadeera was—”

“Was exactly what a free-thinking man like Trevor Black desired. Like I desire.” I got my hand back on her smooth breast and gently pinched her taut nipple.

She jerked and looked down at where my hand rested, biting at her bottom lip as she processed what I’d just told her. Coming to what I hoped was the only logical conclusion, she stretched out on the bed, lifting her hands over her head. “Come then, you filthy American imperialist, and conquer my body like you’ve conquered my homeland.”

I wanted to laugh at her quote, but that would have ruined the mood. In so many cheesy words, she’d just agreed to stop fighting me and let me do what I wanted. My window of opportunity was open, and it was time to take advantage of it.

I gripped her wrists in one hand as I rolled on top of her. She didn’t fight me as I wedged open her legs and settled between them. The suddenly aroused bar of my dick mashed against her bare pussy. I tried to copy as much of the movie scene as I could remember, kissing down her neck before burying my face between her tits. My free hand grabbed her smooth ass and then slid lower, drawing her leg up until she hooked her calf over my thigh. Her other leg followed on its own and she crossed her ankles behind me, pulling tight to grind her pussy against my cock.

I lifted my head from the valley of her gorgeous tits and looked down at the psychotic Queen of UCLA. Even in her gaudy makeup she was strikingly beautiful. Her eyes were closed as she humped against the length of my newly-aroused cock, and she moaned in real pleasure.

As much as I would have liked to draw things out—to get the naked Queen as hot and horny as I possibly could—I was forced to follow the movie’s script or else risk knocking her out of the fantasy. When I let go of her wrists and lifted myself up on my hands, she knew what needed to happen next. Thankfully, sometime during our naked romp she’d gotten wet enough that she was able to reach down and tuck my dick right into the furnace of her pussy. I slid into her with a moan of my own, feeling her tight tunnel sucking me in.

When I hit bottom I gasped in surprise, first at the heat and constriction of her cunt, and then as the reality of my situation finally hit me. I was fucking a Queen—something I’d never thought I’d do. Something I’d never even fantasized about. As much as I’d dealt with them before, I’d always considered them more worthy of anger or envy than as an object of lust. But while Queen Wendy might have the arrogance and selfishness of her kind, I’d managed to wall that up in double-speak and movie references, leaving me with just her amazing body and hot, wet, virgin-tight pussy.

“Do it, you bastard,” she panted, still sticking to the script. “Fuck me like we could both die tomorrow.”

I certainly hoped that no one would die tomorrow. To play along, I did my best impersonation of Trevor’s strong-jawed, stern look as my suddenly steel-hard dick soaked inside the constriction of her fiery hole. I ground my hips against her, making her gasp with all of the new sensations flooding her body.

The first few strokes were a little awkward as I tried to remember the exact movements from the vid, but when each plunge into her pussy brought louder and louder moans from the impaled Queen, I stopped worrying about authenticity. Especially when Wendy abandoned the movie as well, and started doing what came naturally. Her hips lifted and fell, and her strong legs pulled me deeper as she met every one of my thrusts. She squealed each time I bottomed out and my pubic bone mashed against her mound.

I laid down on her, crushing her into the soft bed and letting her feel my weight. Her legs tightened around my hips and she wrapped her arms around my neck in a stranglehold. I knew that she’d finally abandoned logic and given in to her pleasure when she pulled my head down and kissed me with an intensity that I’d only felt before from my Moon lover, Elise.

She wasn’t the only one being affected, either. All of my concerns about Queens and Moons and world domination started to melt away as I lost myself in the joys of real fucking. Wendy’s natural sensuality emerged, gripping me tight and pulling me in. As much as I’d enjoyed the company of Roxy, Michelle, and Jia the last few months, they were still Workers, with no real emotions and no desires of their own. I’d always had to have one part of my brain focused on giving them their next instructions, instead of devoting all of my attention to my own pleasure.

Only Elise had ever brought out those feelings in me before, and even though we weren’t married, or even in a defined relationship, I felt a little guilty that I was experiencing it with someone else. Queen Wendy bucked under me, moaning and panting, and gripping me with her tight pussy.

“Sooo goood…” Her whisper barely made it to my ears, but when it did, it spurred something in me. Instead of focusing on how my dick felt, I found myself paying more and more attention to the woman squirming under me. For some odd reason, I wanted to make this as good for her as it was for me.

As I kept up my steady rhythm, I cataloged all of the tiny cues she was giving me. A quiet sigh, a sudden tightening of her arms around my neck, even the fluttering constriction of her tight hole gave me a picture of what she liked. And like the impulsive idiot I was, I gave her more of it; rotating my hips in a way that brought a loud gasp, nipping at the soft skin of her neck and feeling her nails scrape my shoulders.

Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I’d held out some hope of turning things around—of finding that last bit of my resistance to keep the woman under me from getting what she wanted. But that hope vanished at the moment that I speared hard into her magnificent pussy and the logical, emotionless Queen exploded in an orgasm so intense that she screamed in my ear. Her arms clamped around my neck, her legs clamped around my ass, and her pussy…

I don’t know if I actually spurted my cum into her waiting depths, or if her squeezing, contracting tunnel just pulled it right out of me. In either case, all of my strength left me along with my precious DNA, as Wendy’s fervor simply overwhelmed me. I couldn’t even say that it felt good, just incredibly intense.

“No…no…stop…” The murmuring in my ear brought me back to reality. Wendy had stopped shaking, and her grip around me relaxed. I lifted my head and caught her staring over my shoulder, focused on some point on the ceiling as she whispered to herself. “No pleasure until your work is done…gratification is fleeting, power is forever…move forward…”

It sounded like she was giving herself a pep talk of some kind, but why? Her soft body felt incredible under me, and her hot hole still had a firm grip on my shrinking cock, so personally, I was ready for a cuddle and a nap, not chanting self-help mantras.

She finally fell silent. I took that as a sign, and was about to roll off from her, when her arms and legs clamped back down, locking me in place. “Where are you going, Leopold Takayama?” her voice had changed again, from soft moans of passion to the cold, clipped logical speech of the Queen.

“I…uh…was going to get up.”

“Not yet. Remain in place until instructed.”

A commotion broke out behind me. I turned my head to see three of Wendy’s Technicians bustle into the room, carrying trays and bins full of equipment.

After that, I tuned out while Queen Wendy and her Workers used their arsenal of instruments to collect every last drop of my DNA. My cock was thoroughly cleaned with rubber spatulas and cotton swabs, all of which went into sealed containers. By the time they went to work on Wendy, with all three Technicians crowded between her wide open legs, I didn’t wait for further instructions and started getting dressed.

I’d found one of the projectors that Alexander had installed in the room, and was killing time playing his collection of tit-fucking vids, when I felt someone come up behind me.

“Preliminary tests indicate that we succeeded, Leopold Takayama,” Wendy said. “Although perhaps we can do something in the future to increase the volume of your ejaculate. At the present rate, we’ll have to fuck at least forty-four more times to provide enough material for my research.”

Forty-four…?

“Wait a minute,” I said, spinning around to face the Queen. She hadn’t bothered to get dressed. Her gaudy makeup had smeared and run into a colorful abstract, but the rest of her body was cleaned and scrubbed and as lovely as ever. I forced myself to look only at her face. “What do you mean forty-four? I thought this was a once or twice kind of thing. I’m not some faucet that you just turn on when you need more DNA.”

“One time or a hundred, I didn’t realize that it mattered. And like I said, if we can do something about your volume per session, then we can reduce the total number of ejaculations needed.”

“You’re not getting what…” I could tell from her expression that she had no idea what I was protesting. My session with her had been so bizarre, and intense, that I couldn’t possibly see doing it even once more, let alone forty-four. And what about her?

“So how did you like your first taste of free-willed sex? It seemed like you enjoyed yourself.”

For a moment she actually looked unsure as she stole a glance at the rumpled bed, but then she squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and went back into Queen mode. “It was adequate for my purposes, and since it seems to be the only way to get your uncontaminated DNA, then I’m willing to continue. I noticed that we deviated quite a bit from the scene in Illicit Obsession toward the end. Maybe next time we should stick to the script and see if that helps the volume issue.”

I wanted to call out her hypocrisy, but there was no real benefit. Even if she denied it, I’d seen the kind of passion she was capable of feeling. Maybe over the next forty-four sessions I could break down her barriers and finally bring out a different side of her than the psychotic, world-dominating ultra-bitch that she’d been so far.

“Are you ready to leave?” she asked. “I need to get back to the lab.”

“Sure. But first, tell me something. What was it that you were mumbling there, just after your orgasm?”

“After my…? I was repeating my life instructions, to make sure I was still following my true path.”

“Life instructions? Aren’t those only for Workers?”

“Of course not. Father told me that they were the only way to stick to our plan. Other Queens get lost in pleasure and excess, which is why they will never rule anything more than a single colony, but Queen Trevor made sure that my priorities were always foremost in my mind.”

While Queen Trevor hadn’t been Wendy’s real father, I knew that she was one of those rare Queens that had been raised by her predecessor. I’d always considered Queens raised by the Guard to be more “normal,” since they had wider experience with other free-thinking people. Queen Wendy was a perfect example of what happened when a self-centered demi-god got to raise his successor.

Whatever hopes I’d had of swaying the Queen from her path—through sex, or logic, or even quoting all of the right movies—died a silent ignominious death in my head. The way she’d chanted her “life instructions” in my ear had me convinced that she was as locked into her commands as any of her Workers. I’d never met Queen Trevor, but I spent the whole ride back to UCLA daydreaming about how I’d like to punch him in the face.