The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Lust in Space”

The airlock door irises open to reveal a metallic figure, who strides confidently into the main corridor, carrying a device in one hand whose form gives no hint to its function. It makes a calm humming noise, followed by an almost contented chirp, and the figure touches a stud on the suit’s shoulder. Armor plates retract, unveiling the body beneath in stages until all of the plates have been condensed into a pair of shoulder pads, which are removed, leaving their wearer nude. She glances about the corridor until her azure orbs lock gazes with the security camera. Placing one slender pair of four-fingered hands at her waist, another pair just under her impressive trio of mammaries, and running the remaining pair through hair as dark as the space between the stars, she curls her pouty lips in what the humans on the other end of the closed circuit would consider a smile, and says “Beyond this point, all is fiction. If you have not witnessed the requisite 18 revolutions of your homeworld, or if you have but are offended by verbal descriptions of sexual situations, you must proceed immediately to the escape pods. This vessel is about to cross the threshold into another dimension, where scientific possibilities and karmic laws may not match those of this universe. Domestic experimentation is not recommended.”

Her nipples begin to glow softly, and the security personnel converging on her position freeze in mid-stride before vanishing. “If it is permissible by your culture for you to view what lies beyond the Great Barrier, await the opening of the wormhole, and enjoy the ride.”

* * *

Chapter I

Captain Preen painfully picked himself up off the floor. The last thing he remembered was following a distress signal sent on the Galactic Commonwealth Emergency Frequency, and falling into some kind of spacetime anomaly. Their ship, the Nakoruru, was a science vessel exploring the Galactic Core, far from settlement of any kind. They had come upon the signal three days ago, and had followed it until coming to what looked like a glowing, pink whirlpool superimposed on the dense background of the core systems. The electronic eminations from the anomaly had shut down the ship’s systems even as they pulled the ship into it.

Clara West, navigations officer and the daughter of the family who served as the nucleus of the crew, helped the Captain back into his chair. The restraints had snapped, and he had been thrown to the floor. The center of the bridge, where the command crew had been sitting, including himself, his first officer Commander Corsair, an ex-space pirate who had found religion and gone straight, and the West family patriarch, William West, head science officer, seemed to have sustained the worst damage. Both of the other men, and two of the officers stationed on either side of the damage zone, Ami Furlong and Amanda Blackstone, were gone.

“Where...” he croaked, his voice sounding like he had just lost a hot pepper eating contest.

“Ami and Amanda took Dad and the Commander to the infirmary.” Clara said. “I was still digging you out when you came to.”

“I’ll be fine.” the Captain said. “Where are we?”

“According to the computer, we’ve left our galaxy.” she replied. “The good news is, now we’re within spitting distance of the ship that sent the distress signal. But right now I have to get you to the infirmary.” The Captain smiled at the concern in the young woman’s voice. He knew she had a crush on him, and her lithe young figure (and the holopics of herself she left in his inbox) tempted him to take her up on it. However, her father was a highly respected scientist, and Commander Corsair was the doctor’s best friend and a dead-on shot with a blaster.

They stepped into the infirmary and were greeted by the doctor, Hernando Alvarez, a mysogenistic cyborg—his right eye, arm and leg had been replaced with bionic proxies due to severe injuries prior to his joining the Nakoruru crew—who had no qualms about doing whatever he felt was necessary to ensure the success of the mission, even, at one point, sedating Preen himself because of his moral objections to a mission the doctor had championed, which would have put billions of innocent lives in danger of a retaliatory strike. As far as bedside manner, he was tolerable as long as his patient was male, but whenever he was stuck with a female patient, he was cold and formal and condescending, making little effort to hide his disdain for the gender. All the women on board were afraid one day he would take a laser scalpel to their throats while they were unconscious or sedated. Dr. Alvarez had been rescued by the Nakoruru crew after his family had crash-landed on a planet dominated by women-warriors. He had been a prisoner of one of the ruling tribes for most of his young life. Who knew what horrors he had witnessed at their hands? The Captain was treated for some minor burns, a concussion and a very mild case of smoke inhalation. Feeling better already, he returned to the bridge. Dr. West’s wife, Alexis, turned in her chair at the Communications station.

“Captain, now that we’re on this side of the anomaly, the signal’s coming through loud and clear.” she reported.

“What does it say?” the Captain asked. Mrs. West tapped a button on her console, and an image appeared on the main viewscreen. Most females would say the man who appeared was attractive. He had dark hair, dark eyes, gentle features and musculature which showed he was used to manual labor. Samantha West, the younest of the West girls, sighed dreamily as she sat in her chair at Ops. Young Billy West, Samantha’s younger brother, made a disgusted noise.

“I am Peter Icarus, security chief of the Privateer Mining Vessel Alchemy I. After falling through a strange anomaly, we landed on a nearby Earthlike planet to make repairs. I stayed behind to guard the female crewmembers, who seemed instinctively to fear what lay outside, while the men endeavored to make repairs. The men were attacked by the local fauna, while searching for ores that the refinery we were carrying could process into workable materials to make the repairs with. I knew the ship wasn’t capable of lifting off with the refinery still attached, so I left it on the planet and took off, thinking only to protect the remaining crew. Every time we approach the anomaly to try to go home, our systems shut down and the electromagnetic forces drive us back away from it. I fear that it is a one-way phenomenon. I did manage to repair enough systems that we can survive for a while if need be. I’ve placed everyone else in stasis, and am about to go there myself.

“Medical screening by our doctor, Liza Petros, showed that somehow, when I breathed in the atmosphere in the course of performing my duty to this crew, I took in some sort of airborne cellular symbiont. Whatever it is, it’s not leaving and doesn’t appear to be contagious, and neither I nor anyone else have noticed any ill effects. I will leave it up to whoever gets this message whether I should be quarantined or not. This is Peter Icarus, signing off.” The screen reverted to the image of the ship, now known to be named Alchemy I.

“Prepare for a rescue operation.” Captain Preen said.

* * *

Peter opened his eyes to discover a dour-looking cyborg standing over him. He gave a cry of surprise and rolled off the table, instinctively taking a defensive posture.

“Relax, Mr. Icarus, you are quite safe.” the cyborg said. “I am Dr. Alvarez. I have been making certain that your journey from stasis to waking has been a safe one.”

“The others?” Peter asked.

“All eager to see you.” Dr. Alvarez replied, an odd sneer in his voice. What was his problem?

“I’m Henry Preen, captain of this vessel.” a second man said, extending a hand.

“What vessel is this?”

“The Nakoruru.” Captain Preen replied as Peter accepted the hand.

“Mr. Icarus, are you aware that you have two hearts?” Dr. Alvarez asked.

“Huh?”

“My initial scans produced this image of your insides.” the doctor replied, showing him a screen which showed quite plainly two hearts beating alternately. “Further, your genetalia have developed to a degree that makes the rest of us feel rather inadequate. Your muscle mass has increased by point eight percent since you were removed from the stasis unit, and your body is producing enzymes that are weaving some sort of metal support structure around your bones. May I ask...”

“Excuse me, but do you mind if I have something to eat?” Peter asked. “I’m afraid I may fall down if I don’t get something in my stomach soon.”

“Indeed, your metabolism seems abnormally high. We will be bringing over some of the food packs from your ship to replace the ones you plan on eating...”

“Food packs? We ran out of those on the planet.” Peter replied. “All I have over there is a bunch of the local avians that I shot down from my ship’s artillery hatch. That planet is a highly-evolved battleground where everything’s deadly, even the herbivores. I had our young ensign, Yin Li, cover me from the hatch while I went out to get them. Sometimes the land animals would stampede toward the ship and we could have roast herbivore, freshly trampled, provided I could get the hover-units on them before a predator or scavenger showed his ugly face.”

“Fascinating.” the cyborg muttered. “Well, it’s not my decision, although with your metabolism, I’d say you risk an insulin reaction and subsequent collapse if you don’t eat soon.”

“I’ll escort you to the mess.” the captain said.

“So I have to clean the ship to get a bite to eat around here?” Peter asked. The captain looked at him strangely. “A little civilian humor.” Peter explained. “Ours is a mining ship not under the jurisdiction of the military. We eat in the galley.”

“Whatever.” Dr. Alvarez snorted. Captain Preen laughed.

“I’m sure with your charms you can persuade one of our female crew to do your cleaning for you even if I were to assign you to janitorial duty.” the Captain chuckled.

* * *

Sharra Carter sat beside Peter at the table where she and all the others from the Alchemy I had gathered. She tried desperately to work up the nerve to let him know how she felt. He and all the other men had risked so much to protect them in the harsh environment of the planet, but only Peter had survived. Her brother, who had been her only confidante, had been among those lost on the planet to predators. Sharra felt so alone. Her heart reached out, desperate for contact, but what could she say that wouldn’t make her sound stupid? She was vaguely aware that the meat of the predatory reptile in front of her tasted a little like the alligators her uncle in Louisiana used to cook up for gumbo. She felt his hand on her shoulder, and finally made eye contact with him.

“I’m sorry about your brother.” he said. “I know you were close.” She smiled, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“You’ve got quite an appetite this evening.” Dr. Petros remarked, her brown hair curling around and drawing attention to her cleavage, which was pushed up by her tight-fitting Mining Guild uniform, which she had unzipped almost to the boundary of decency for their celebratory meal.

“Dr. Alvarez believes the symbiont that is inhabiting me is increasing my appetite.” Peter replied.

“Well if you notice any other symptoms, please don’t hesitate to let me know.” she said, smiling. Sharra nuzzled into Peter’s chest to get his attention back. There was something about him that had her very wet. Her close-cropped hair had grown since the last time she had had an opportunity to cut it, and was tickling the back of her neck as she fought for Peter’s attention in her own way.

“And if you need emotional support, Sharra,” said Paloma Quest, Alchemy I’s supercargo, “we’ll be happy to offer it. I know what it’s like to lose someone you care about.” Her rich chocolate skin glistened in the light of the mess hall.

“Thanks, Paloma.” Sharra replied. She couldn’t explain why she was so aroused. She’d never been this wet in her life. One thing she knew for sure was she could—at least temporarily—shake off the lingering terror as long as she was with him. Peter stroked her hair, as if understanding. She smiled.

* * *

Samantha West tossed and turned in her bunk, in the grip of a powerfully erotic dream. It had happened four times tonight alone. Each time she dreamed of losing her virginity, she would come to the brink of orgasm and then her pet alien, Doink, would leap to her chest and awaken her. This time, however, the color-changing primatoid had gotten into mischief in the closet, causing the doors to close on it. Samantha orgasmed. Her eyes opened, though she remained asleep. Following a call only she could hear, she sat up, climbed down from the bunk, unaware of her brother, who slept in the bunk below her, and who had listened to her moans all night, denying him sleep. She stepped out into the corridor, her half-closed eyes focussing on nothing. She stopped before another door, her hand slowly reaching for the “open” button. A hand on her shoulder roused her from her somnolent state, and she glanced around, confused.

“Samantha, what are you doing?” Billy asked. “That’s Peter Icarus’s room. You’re not supposed to go in there.”

“How’d I get here?” she asked.

“Duh, you walked.”

“I did?”

“Look, I may be ten years younger than you, but I’m not stupid.” Billy said. “Now why did you come down here?” Samantha had no answers for him. At seventeen and a half years of age, she was no stranger to wet dreams, but never had she sleepwalked. She decided to ask that lady doctor about it in the morning. Dr. Petros wasn’t as scary as Dr. Alvarez. She walked with Billy back to their quarters.

“Doink!” the tiny voice from the closet called insistently. Giggling a litte, Samantha opened the closet door, permitting Doink to escape. It leaped into her arms, nuzzling against her and purring happily.

“Hey, Doink, what’s up?” she asked the little alien. “I’ve never known you to get so excited before, even that time when you were locked in the closet for a whole duty shift. So why now?”

“Doink?” the creature replied, looking up at Samantha with concern in its saucer-sized eyes. She set the primatoid down and tucked her brother back into bed. She was about to crawl in herself when Doink landed on her back, scolding loudly.

“What’s with you?” she asked.

“Maybe he doesn’t want you to start moaning in your sleep again and keep me awake.” Billy groaned. “Take him outside or something, will you?” Samantha climbed back down from her bunk and shifted the little alien into her arms. Once she was back in the corridor, she began to feel a strong pull in the direction of Peter’s quarters, but as soon as she turned in that direction, Doink leapt from her arms, then bounded against her. The force of the leap nearly knocked her off her feet. Doink again began to scold loudly.

“You don’t want me heading over there?” she asked the little creature. “What do you know that I don’t?” The alien’s lip quivered worriedly. Samantha sighed and headed to where she knew Dr. Petros had been quartered.

* * *

Peter paced restlessly. He knew he should go see Dr. Petros, but he was afraid. What if someone saw him while he was on his way? His gaze fell upon a ventillation shaft. Inspired, he removed the grating and slithered inside. He shivered. The wind was at his back, and the hole he’d accidentally made in his uniform invited a draft. Pulling himself along with powerful arms, he moved along the shaft with astonishing speed. He ignored the scratching sounds made by the claws which were growing where his fingernails should be. The tail swishing behind him made odd noises along the shaft’s ceiling.

* * *

“Well, I’m not detecting anything physically wrong with you, Ms. West.” Dr. Petros said. “A pheromone reaction would explain the wet dreams, but not the somnambulance.”

“The what?” Samantha asked.

“Sleepwalking, dear.” the doctor replied. Doink began to growl puppyishly, glaring at the ventillation grate.

“What’s wrong, Doink?” she asked.

“Fascinating creature.” Dr. Petros remarked, stroking the primatoid’s cheek. Doink ignored her, ascending to Samantha’s head to growl from a higher vantage point. The doctor followed Doink’s stare to the vent. The grate was knocked out from within, and Peter emerged, sporting an elongated set of eyeteeth, long, sharp claws, catlike eyes and a long, prehensile, furry tail. One hand flickered, glowed, then went out.

“That’s new.” Peter muttered, staring at his hand. “Like I needed one more thing happening to me.”

“Come over here, let me have a look at you.” the doctor said, clearing off a low table for Peter to lie on while she did scans with the portable equipment she’d had brought over from the Alchemy I. “It looks as if your body’s being reconfigured by the symbiont. I’m seeing three hearts now and all your other vital organs are either multiplying or changing position or both.” Doink leapt for Peter, scratching his face before retreating.

“Doink! Stop it!” Samantha cried, restraining her pet.

“It’s okay.” Peter replied, as his wounds closed before the astonished women’s eyes. “I had a couple of little cuts in my quarters before the tail showed up. Apparently the symbiont doesn’t like open wounds.”

“Didn’t you have an appendectomy when you were young?” the doctor asked, hovering her scanner over Peter’s abdomen.

“Let me guess, my appendix grew back?” Peter sighed.

“Yes, well with that new healing factor I don’t suppose you have to worry about appendicitis.”

“So much the better.” Peter replied. Samantha felt Doink pulling at her arm, trying to get her to leave. She was rooted to her spot, however, by something stronger than pheromones. The doctor seemed to feel it too. She began to unzip her Mining Guild uniform. Samantha closed her eyes, recalling the dream. When she opened them again, she was once again under the powerful spell of Peter’s psychic call. She undid the poli-seal of her GC Exploritory Division uniform, and then helped Liza undress Peter. Doink tried to stop her, but at Peter’s direction she put it outside. She returned to his side, compelled by his presence in her mind to follow his will. Her juices flowed down her thighs in miniature rivers. Peter laid Liza on the floor and had Samantha straddle the woman’s face. He kissed Samantha as he slid into Liza’s opening. Liza, in turn, began to lick at Samantha’s tight little twat, drawing empassioned moans from the seventeen-year-old. When at length Peter spurted his seed into Liza, his orgasm was psychically shared with the others, triggering their own orgasms. Samantha lay down then, with Liza straddling her face. Her flower broke with a single thrust, and within minutes, she too became a recipient of Peter’s seed. The psychic compulsion ended, but Samantha was loathe to leave his side. She clung by him until he commanded her to return to her quarters and get some rest. She snuggled against him, gazing up into his eyes. Then she stood on tiptoe and kissed the man who had given her more pleasure in half an hour than she had experienced in the whole of her life. Liza kissed him as well, the depth and passion a match for that which Samantha had given him. Then, Liza did the unexpected. She kissed Samantha. Surprised at first, Samantha surrendered soon enough, exploring the thirtyish woman’s body with her hands. When she returned to the corridor, she lifted Doink in her arms, making sure the poli-seal on her uniform was done right, and returned to her quarters. She slept soundly, cuddling with the primatoid like a teddy bear.

* * *

Sharra Carter snuggled close to Peter. He had confessed to her about what had happened with Samantha and Liza, and then she had experienced the psychic call for herself. When she came back to herself, she called upon her knowledge of xenobiology for the answer to what was going on. It was simple, really. He was being rebuilt for survival, and some of the greatest species in the galaxy, at least when it came to keeping the species alive, were those whose males established breeding circles, keeping many females pregnant at a time. That was what he was doing. Establishing a breeding circle.

He was sleeping now, resting after the evening’s activities. Sharra wondered just how many women he would take for his circle. She could already feel the submissiveness creeping into her mind. Whether it was subconscious psychic reconfiguring or something else, she had no idea at the moment. What she did know for certain was that she would soon, if she was not already, be part of a harem of submissive breeding females. The thought gave her a mini-orgasm. She closed her eyes, leaning her head on his chest and listening to the hearts beating within. Soon, the rhythmic thumping lulled her to sleep as well.

* * *

“Yes?” Captain Preen asked.

“Captain, I’ve come to relay my concern for Mr. Icarus.” Dr. Alvarez said. “He’s begun taking his meals in his quarters, hiding in the dark until the attendant leaves. One of them said he saw some kind of flickering light in the darkness before he was forced to leave.”

“What kind of flickering light?”

“I’m not sure, sir.” the doctor admitted. “If he’s building something, you’d think he’d at least have the brains not to work on it while people are in the room.”

“Why don’t we have a talk with him?” the captain said. “In the meantime, Dr. West, do you have any suggestions on how we get back to our own galaxy?”

“Working on it, Captain.” the science officer replied. “The only plan I have so far involves leaving the Nakoruru behind and going through in the stasis pods.”

“Keep me posted, doctor.” Captain Preen said. “Let me know when you come up with a plan that will let us take the ship with us. She’s expensive, you know.”

“Speaking of expensive, captain, don’t you think the Mining Guild would like their refinery back?” Dr. Alvarez remarked. “Just a thought.”

“When we have an idea that’ll get us back to our galaxy with our ship, Dr. Alvarez, then we’ll consider modifying the plan to include the refinery, and if possible the Alchemy I as well.” He followed the doctor down the corridor until they came to Peter Icarus’s quarters. He chimed an entry request, but received no answer. He chimed again. No answer came. “Computer, override lock, authorization Preen-one-niner.”

“Authorization confirmed.” the computer replied, opening the door. The lights were off. The only light in the quarters was the stars in the windows.

“Computer, lights.” Preen said.

“Unable to comply.” the computer said. “Lamp fragmentation evident.”

“Why break the lights, Icarus?” the captain asked.

“Stupid attendants kept turning them on when I wasn’t ready, and the security here’s so messed up I can’t instigate a lockout.”

“So you’d rather sit in the dark?”

“Oh, no, Captain, actually what light I have is plenty. Courtesy of the symbiont. But perhaps you’d like more?” His hand began to glow, and Preen and Alvarez turned their heads in the direction of the bedroom, where Peter Icarus stood with a glowing hand. Was it a trick of the light, or did he have claws?”

“Why didn’t you inform us?” Preen asked.

“About a minor little thing like glowing in the dark or exceptional nightvision?” Icarus asked. “Besides, I don’t trust Dr. Alvarez. All the women on your ship are afraid of him, and I’ve always been sensitive to the needs of women, so I’ve been referring them all to my ship’s medical officer, Dr. Petros, and I’ve been seeing her myself.” The undertones in the man’s voice indicated something else.

“Why hasn’t she contacted me with her findings?” Dr. Alvarez asked.

“How did she put it?” Peter mused. “You’re...’a mysogenist sociopath with all the moral fiber of a marshmallow breakfast cereal.’ Yes, I believe that’s it.”

“Touché.” the captain chuckled. “Still, she could have sent the data via a courrier.”

“I’ll bring it up at our next appointment.” Peter said. “Will that be all, Captain? Good. Take the sociopath with you when you leave.” The hand ceased to glow, and Captain Preen had to navigate by the light from the door.

Once they were gone, Peter breathed a sigh of relief. He heard a stirring from the bed.

“Peter? Who was that?”

“That was the captain, Clara, but he’s gone now. Go back to sleep.” Peter replied. Obediently, Clara’s eyes closed and her head sank back down to the pillow. Her breathing evened out as she slipped back into unconsciousness. It was amazing how easily she and the others followed his commands. They displayed an almost hypnotic obedience to his suggestions. He could sense a growing submissiveness in them. There was something else as well. He guessed he probably should be quarantined, but his newfound instincts wouldn’t allow a long confinement. He returned to the ducts and snuck into the galley, fetching himself a piece of meat for a snack before returning to his quarters. He was finding that he no longer had to crawl through the ducts. Focussing his mind, he could lift himself from the ground, which saved a lot of effort, and he could also manipulate the vent screws, which saved a lot of suspicion. Paloma Quest appeared in the doorway, answering a telepathic call he had only recently become aware that he was making. He kissed her deeply as he began to undo the zipper of her Mining Guild uniform.

* * *

Doink had never hesitated to come to Samantha before...at least not since she had befriended it. Now the little primatoid twittered from atop the light fixture just out of her reach.

“What’s wrong, little guy?” she asked. She pulled a treat from her pouch. “Come on down, silly! Come on, Doink! Come on, baby!” Doink finally accepted the treat, and Samantha consoled the creature, its skin bright yellow in fear. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you. I’d never hurt you. You’re my friend. You’ll always be my friend.”

“Would you shut up?” Billy grunted. “It’s bad enough having to share a room with you on a ship that’s not going anywhere until Dad figures out a way to get home without leaving the Nakoruru behind, but do I have to listen to you all night long?”

“Well excuse the fardles out of me.” Samantha replied crossly. “Kids.”

“You’re not exactly an adult either, you know.” Billy said. “You can’t even get into the ship’s stores without permission from Dad. You’re such a troglodyte.”

“I’d call you a positronic labor-drone, but that would be cruel to the drones.” Samantha replied. “What am I saying? Why am I letting myself get drawn into a name-fight with someone less than half my age?” She stalked into the lavatory and began to gel her spiky, punk-style hair. Doink watched her curiously as it always did. Why did her backside hurt so? Suddenly she heard a popping sound from behind her. Craning her head to look, she discovered that she now had a long, prehensile tail, the color of whose fur matched her hair color. Black. “Doink, I think we’d better go see Dr. Petros.” she whispered.

“Doink?” the creature replied, staring curiously at the tail. She cuddled the creature closely as she curled the tail about her waist and concealed the whole with a towel. It would have to do. She cautiously made her way to Dr. Petros’ quarters.

To be continued...