The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Julie and Natalie were doing a glowing orb enforced sleep on the ship, not one of those shitty small crafts I came in on, but a full size gunship. Thing was about the size of a train and four cars, had sleeping compartments, was deep space capable, and had a high enough payload to do some serious damage. I was flying in style. Skem (gray bastard had a name evidently) sat in the copilot seat next to me as I worked the controls back to Earth; dark unreadable eyes as always, mine just staring out on the stars. It was going to be the last time that I was going to see this shit like this and I wanted to do everything that I could to burn it into my mind.

“You surprise me Rick,” (evidently I had a name too.) Skem said as the transport neared the shining glare of Earth, a sight too which would take your breath away.

I offered a half smile, thoughtful, but mildly bearing regret, “Yeah well sometimes I surprise myself.”

“You know why you made the choice.”

I turned to him, “Because I’m a sentimental idiot?”

“There’s nothing wrong with doing the right thing Rick,” Graham said suddenly.

I turned my head to him standing behind me, staring at the view screen with me. I’d almost forgotten that he was even there. I’d almost forgotten I’d given him a pass on the programming thing; him, Emily…and Alicia. Alicia’s father had been a mixed bag of silence mixed with thoughtful smiles and continuous sighing. In fact aside from a “thank you” that had been the first thing he’d said for what had to have been the last two hours. Once again he was offering me that stupid ass unasked for words of wisdom.

“Except when’ doing the right thing’ means giving up everything that you thought you wanted in the first place.” I said.

Graham managed a chuckle and a disbelieving shake of his head. Maybe I hadn’t pissed him off as much as I thought.

I turned to Skem, who’s look was even worse than Graham’s; dark unreadable eyes and that immobile face. I kind of felt like the pair of them had this concept in their minds that I was carefully denied. I suppose it was probably for the better. I was feeling a mixture of conflicting emotions and I wasn’t completely sure how I was going to react to it. Still I knew the pair was right, deep down, even if I tried to deny it. I knew what I was going through now was better than the one I would be going through later if I’d opted to be more shortsighted. I guess I just didn’t want to admit it.

In a flash the stars were gone; stratosphere transitioned to atmosphere, and my angle just kind of sucked too. I stared down at the reassuring shape of the United States, Oregon, home. Saturday night, it was just over seven days since it all started. In a matter of minutes I would be landing. A little bit more than that and all of this would be over. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.

Ricardo Castillo, savior of planet Earth, and practically no one would remember a wink of what I did, at least on this planet.

The ship landed with soft expert precision on the open street. The ramp slid open with a soft crack on the concrete and I breathed in the air of a liberated world. The taxicab idled where it was supposed to. The man of South Asian descent who sat behind the wheel bore that same glassy stare of everyone on this planet called Earth. He had his white orb enforced job to do like everyone else.

“Natalie, Julie you’re up” I called with a yell.

In an instant their eyes opened, that same glassy look in their eyes, that same blank expression on their face. With an almost mechanical movement they got from their racks and walked past me down the ramp to the waiting vehicle.

Graham stood next to me on the ramp, watching with me as the car pulled away, taking the two of them back home. There they would fall asleep again, waiting for everything else to put back to the way it was.

I looked askance at him as he stood with me, staring at the other cab that waited for him. Those deep thoughtful eyes of his turned to me, a knowing smirk rested on the edge of his lips. I guess it was time for him to impart some kind of grand wisdom on me. “You’re still a good kid Rick.”

That was not what I expected to hear from him. I made to speak some smart ass; something like and you’re still an overly sentimental old man or You more than anyone should know that’s a load of shit. But all that could came out after a moment was…”Thanks.” And for some ungodly reason I actually meant it.

He nodded his head with a smile, walking off of the ramp and into the waiting cab. The wheels screeched on the concrete as it pulled away. The tail lights were soon a faded memory as they disappeared into the distance.

I let out a heavy sigh. The adventure was over and I knew it. Fucking sucked, but on the other end it could have been a tragedy instead, small victories or big ones depending on how you look at it. Skem was kind enough to see me off at the ramp. I stared at the monster truck waiting for me, not wanting to turn my head. Thinking how much it kind of sucked to be normal smart again.

“So any idea why I can understand Kalarian like it’s nothing, but Chinese still sounds like Chinese to me?” I asked.

Skem shook his head, “I do not know. If I encounter Bahb (the name of the researcher) I will remember to ask him and inform you.”

Smart ass. I sighed again, and not the good contented kind, my eyes drifting about the neighborhood. I watched as everyday people went about their business destroying all evidence of the invasion like it never happened. I stared at the blank faces on every single one of them, thinking about the command protocol I set behind every single one of them. When their job was completed they would go to sleep and when they woke up they would have no memories of anything that had happened. For them the whole week of the invasion would be remembered as a week like any other.

“No gift for the hero?”

I turned to Skem with a wane smile, and a shrug, “ I had sex with women I would never have had the opportunity to have sex with, took in the glory of the cosmos and found out I loved Alicia. I’d say that’s worth something.”

“It was within your power to have a lot more than that Rick.”

I smiled thoughtfully, “There’s this one scene from this book called Starship Troopers by Robert Heinlein that really seemed to stick with me.”

There was silence for about a moment, “I assume you want me to ask the leading question so that you can answer it.”

Pretentious ass. “You know what, fuck you.”

He smiled, wait he smiled. He could smile. “ Retired Lt. Col. Jean V. Dubois wants to make a point about how humans never appreciate something unless they know that they earned it. To illustrate he goes to one of his students and asks him if he would like a trophy that says he has the fastest time for the hundred meter. The student says ‘no.’ He asks why. The student replies because it is not true. The moral of what you are trying to tell me is that you know you love Alicia and if she forgot everything that you did it would be like getting a trophy for running the fastest hundred meter. You know you would never appreciate it because you know it is not true.”

I stared at him, too tired to be incredulous, the fact was once again he was spot on, “Yeah.”

That weird smile disappeared from his face, “Does she know that you selflessly saved the world?”

“Graham will tell her.”

“Do you think it will be enough?”

I shrugged, “It doesn’t change anything with me. It doesn’t change what I should be doing.”

Skem just nodded, the black eyes staring at me, who the hell knew what he was thinking?

And we bid our farewells, well…our “likely never seeing each other agains.” I handed over control of the ship to Skem who was going to use it as a fulcrum to leverage a peace between the Torkhas and the Kalarians. (His original job in the first place before being imprisoned.) Evidently the Kalarians don’t have many mountain size motherships that can enslave planets.

And me, well I was back to being a “nobody special.” Actually I was a bit worse off. I mean I’d had a taste of what ultimate power could be. I’d caught glimpses of landscapes that would put anything I’ve seen on Earth to shame. I knew what it was like to be a super genius. I kicked some serious alien ass. I ran every detail of my old life through my head and realized just how dull and redundant it actually was. And now I had to try to live with it having seen what I was capable of, the wonders that were out there.

Or I could try to do something wantonly self-constructive for once.

No I didn’t go to grad school, do charity work, or join the military. But I did actually start looking for a job that required more than a highschool diploma to get, kick the serious drugs out of my system (psychedelics don’t count, but weed and coke were off the table), and cut back on the drinking. Call it a change of how I approached things. Because sometimes being honest about being an ass isn’t enough. Sometimes you need to do more than just sit in a holding pattern in life. And sometimes you need to worry about the consequences.

.56 seconds… in .56 seconds I realized something. I realized how much of a coward I had been. All of these thoughts and inferences and everything else that I’ve told you in this story, it came to me in that moment. I chose to be a fool so that I could never look like one. I never took life seriously. It might be a great way to keep yourself from getting hurt, but it also makes you a waste of space.

I found a job working at an aeronautics firm. It was bottom tier shit, little better than an underpaid internship (less than what I made at the bike shop), but it was a step in the right direction. I took it with the understanding that the job didn’t start until the end of the summer. Because I had to do something insanely and hopelessly romantic.

How bad was it do you ask? Try four phone calls to Alicia in the space of one week, each time leaving a sappy admission of my guilt and my feelings for her. After that didn’t work try arriving like a wounded puppy at her front steps several times only to be apologetically turned away by her parents. And after that didn’t work try falling back on sending her a letter every week, talking about bullshit with the intent of getting some kind of conversation started.

I was still waiting on a response, and often wondering if I was an idiot for trying.

In the meantime I was going the longest stretch I’d ever purposely gone without sex in my life. Karen, hot Irish Karen, who I fucked the shit out of at that drug addled orgy, but who completely forgot that I did that, even called me back to see if I wanted to “hang-out.” Can you believe that I was stupid enough in love to actually turn her down?

My old part of my brain was yelling at me that I was pussy whipped and needed to do something about it. But this one truth still stuck with me. I was a Master Key (even if it didn’t mean shit on Earth), I’d saved the world and against my best interests I’d both erased everyone’s memories of it ever happening and let the three people who would have reason for hating me keep their’s. I wasn’t just a hero I was fucking Jesus Christ (figuratively); what the hades did I have left to prove?

But it didn’t matter. None of it mattered. She wouldn’t see me. She didn’t call. She never wrote back. Against my best efforts it tore the shit out of me inside. Because I could understand it. Because against all of the other possible excuses that coursed through my mind I knew I deserved it. But I wasn’t going to stop. I loved her. And it was so fucking weird for me.

Then August 12th, 2011 happened.

It began with the bell ringing at the front door of the bike shop. I was elbow deep in grease and ball bearings, four people having dropped off their bikes to get fixed that day. Emmett was in the back room chatting with his ugly ass girlfriend, but swearing he was working on parts shipments. We were two hours away from the after work busy rush and the shop was mostly empty except for us. I knew Tony was up front working with a customer so I reached for a rag, wiped off my hands and headed out to the floor.

“You cleaned up a little bit.”

And there she was, tight blue jeans and graphic t, small and nerdy, long dark hair and that adorable face danced with freckles. Dark brown eyes stared at me almost sheepishly.

I just stared at her. I was surprised, almost thrilled to see her. To be honest I had kind of given up on ever hearing from her again. Sure I was still writing those letters, but it was more a matter of my headstrong nature than actually thinking anything would come of it. Of course there was always hope, but really what the fuck is that worth?

“Hey” was the best I could manage at that moment, so lost for words was I.

She smiled at me and against my best cynicism it completely warmed my heart. Her head turned down towards the floor awkwardly, only making the feeling in my chest worse.

Dig for something you fucking fool, “So ah… it’s been awhile. What brings you here?”

She scoffed kind of thoughtfully, head turning up to me, “I heard your dad kicked you out of the house.”

I shrugged. I felt awkward, but I just knew I wanted to keep her there, “I did trash his house.” For some reason all I could manage was the obvious. Way to go dim wit.

But she was digging it. That much I picked up on. The smile broadened across her face, her head shaking, but she didn’t say a damn thing.

I found a little bit of a voice, head turning down towards the floor, “Living in a shitty apartment above a bar right now, trying to pay back the damages done to my parents.”

“I heard that too.”

“Did you?” my head turned up and started. She was closer then, eyes still on me, that soft smile on her face. I could almost touch her. I wanted to touch her, and no not like that you pervert. Just because this is an erotic fiction site doesn’t mean everything has to be about sex.

“What else did you hear Ms. Detective?” I asked.

“You’ve changed some.”

I had stopped wearing torn shirts, cut back on the piercings and shaved my head, “You heard that or you see it?”

Her eyes were on me penetrating, bright and shining, dark and beautiful, “You look good.”

All I could do was look at them. All I wanted to do was look at them. And I couldn’t help, but notice how they didn’t pull away from me. “Does that mean apology accepted?”

She chuckled, and I moved in closer to her. She didn’t step away. “It’s really good to see you,” I said, my hand light on her shoulder suddenly.

Round eyes staring up at me, “Me too.”

Thank Buddha for that awkward reply.

You know how there’s that moment in movies where the boy and the girl’s eyes meet and they both seem caught like there’s some kind of undeniable connection between them? The two of them slowly step closer, bodies inches away, faces pressing in a breath away and you know, just know that they’re going to have this amazing kiss that will inevitably lead to fantastic sex whereby they consummate their love and everyone lives happily ever after?

“Yo Rick! Where did you go? You know these bikes ain’t going to fix themselves!”

And then something ridiculous happens to completely destroy the moment. Fucking Emmet, I swear to jebus, why the fuck didn’t I put you in bondage and beat your ass down the street when I had the chance?

Alicia stepped back, eyes turning away with a deep exhale, an amused smile crossing her face that gave me just the slightest hint that this wasn’t over. Sweet.

Emmet: “Rick? Rick? Christ do I have to do everything around here?”

Cue slightly annoyed shit grin (yes it’s a contradiction, deal with it) as I shook my head, “I get off of work in three hours. You want to meet up somewhere?”

“Stepping Stone? Say 5:30?”

Still smiling, “It’s a date.”

Alicia: “It is.”

Oh yeah motherfucker. I was totally in.

The minutes dragged in a cruel and unusual fashion the likes of which I can barely describe. I hadn’t expected how terrible I would feel at really losing her, nor how amazing it would feel just to see her again. It took every ounce of my own limited self-restraint not to kill Emmet for all the micromanaging hypocritical bullshit that he does. But somehow I did it.

And sparing no time for after work banter I was punching out and hoping on my bike to make the distance to the café. Oh, you’re probably wondering about my truck right? Well get this, Kalarian programming may have prevented people from even thinking let alone doing anything negative against the empire, but it in no way generated the same rules for property owned by other humans. Translation: some assholes stole my truck and had the thing chopped up for parts, bastards. I ended up using the pathetically small insurance check to help pay for the damage on my parent’s house.

Anyway I was on my way to Stepping Stone lickety-split dodging traffic, ignoring stop lights and generally being all of the things that automobile drivers hate about bicyclists. None of which mattered to me really. The fact of the matter was that I wanted to see Alicia, and I knew I wanted to see Alicia, and I was actually okay about wanting to see Alicia.

About thirty five minutes, a few adrenaline shot inducing moments, and a heap ton of sweat later I was crossing the doorway into Stepping Stone with time to spare. I spotted Alicia sitting in a booth in the back, cup of coffee sitting in front of her eyes scanning through the people in the café. Then her eyes fell on me and that typical soft warm smile of hers spread across her face.

Life felt good. Life felt really fucking good.

I took a seat across from her as she looked me over, an inquisitiveness crossing her face, “You alright? You look like you just ran a marathon.”

I shrugged, “I may or may not have caused a car wreck, but otherwise I’m okay.”

She chuckled, “You didn’t have to rush like that. It’s only 5:17.”

I shrugged, “I wanted to and you know dodging traffic and all of that shit is kind of fun.”

She went thoughtful for a moment and then smiled,” You’re definitely still you.”

Curiosity ,“What else would I be?”

“Not someone who writes love notes and makes open confessions of guilt.”

“Well you know…”

That gorgeous smile never leaving, “That’s a good thing Rick. After all of the years that I’ve known you you still manage to surprise me.”

I shrugged, “It’s just me being me.”

She sighed not in a bad way, turning down to the cup of coffee in front of her and going all quiet and thoughtful like. A waitress came up and I ended up ordering a cup of coffee for myself. For several moments the two of us sat in silence. I people watched, waved to a couple people I kind of knew. Hipsters, artists, yuppies all congregated here, drinking coffee, eating breakfast type foods, talking and going on about their business. It was a normal Friday like any other.

“No one remembers any of it. Sometimes it makes me wonder if it even happened.”

I turned my head to Alicia, “That was the way it’s supposed to be.”

“Why did you do it?”

That gave me pause. I knew it was an honest question, but I also knew the traps that came with answering it. I poured on too much of the heroic selflessness and she’d think I was full of shit. Yet if I soft played it too much she wouldn’t get the good intentions that ended up going with it. “It wasn’t only because of you if that’s what you’re thinking.”

She nodded, “Then why else?”

I had a lot of time to think about this, and believe me I had. At the time while I was hooked into that main access terminal I’d weighed thousands of different options and reasons, but most of it I had kind of forgotten once relieved of the resources of a hundred different super computers. There still remained with me one certain truth though. “Because I like the threat of getting arrested. I like being kind of off. If there wasn’t somebody trying to tell me that I shouldn’t be doing something I don’t think I’d know what to do.”

She looked at me skeptically,” That’s a terrible answer. That means you have no sense of identity without opposition.”

I shrugged, “Or it means I like people the way they are. Life is supposed to suck and something is wrong if it doesn’t, that’s how anyone knows when something is good. “

Her hand reached for mine and took it. A smile spread wide across her face, “You know you’re not as much of a jerk as you pretend to be.”

That’s what she meant to say to me that night, in that moment before the Kalarian invasion began.

I was about to break a serious rule when it comes when it comes to second stage relationships, but I didn’t give a fuck, “Alicia I love you like I’ve never loved anyone before in my life.”

She returned my gesture with a warm smile, and then her face went completely blank. She pulled away, sitting back against the booth her arms flat on the table, her whole body going completely rigid. “This subject’s name is Alicia Porter—”

Holy shit. You got to be fucking kidding me.

“She is aware that her breasts are kind of small and will get implants to increase them to a size more pleasing to Ricardo Castillo.”

Wait a second…

“She will be open and wanting to sexual experiences with other women when sharing the company with her partner.”

Everything in a monotone, everything in the exact same fashion as if she was under the power of those glowing orbs. No way. There was no way. Was she pulling my chain? Was this some kind of joke or something?

“And because Ricardo Castillo is an unusually skeptical human she will prove her programming by giving him a foot job.”

I heard Alicia’s flats fall down to the ground and suddenly I was feeling a physical sensation pushing soft against my crotch. I peaked my eyes underneath the table to see her toes and soles doing there merry best to cup my balls and cradle my covered cock. My eyes flicked back up to her, blank stare and rigid posture. I gave her foot a hard pinch and she didn’t even blink. I could have done more, but frankly I didn’t want to draw attention to myself.

This wasn’t really arousing for me. In fact it was kind of weird. I have a lot of fetishes. I can’t deny that. Kinky life is good life. But a foot fetish is not one of them. But then again everything else that Alicia had said (the breasts and the openness for a ménage a trios) that sounded oddly unexpected and strangely very awesome.

None of which explained what the fuck was happening.

That was when I heard the familiar beep of my cell phone receiving a text. I pulled the sucker out to check it.

Yes I can in fact read minds and no her feelings were not a foregone conclusion. You can fuck it up.

There was only one person/ beanpole, gray alien who had the resources/ technology to do something like this. Fucking cunt.

Beep. Beep.

Text message,Her personality is intact. I say again because you obviously missed it; you can fuck this up. I recommend that you do not.

Ah… Well that was fine and good, but meanwhile I had an insanely cute girl sitting across from me giving me a foot job underneath the table with a blank expression on her face. How was I going to get her back to her lovable and adorable self?

There was another beep on my cellphone.Say her full name and she will come out of the trance.

Gray bastard really can read minds. “Alicia Porter.”

I felt her feet slide back from my crotch, watched as she slipped them back into her flats. Her body was still rigid and poised, expression still blank as before. Then she shook her head suddenly, her face taking on life, her brow furrowed in light confusion.

“What were we talking about?”

I smiled reassuringly. My hand slid across the table towards her as she grasped it firmly, almost instinctively. I stared at her once again until her eyes fell back on me, and that beautiful smile crossed her face.

“I love you.”

I didn’t know it was possible for my smile to get any wider. I slid out from my side of the booth, taking a seat next to her, my hand wrapping around her shoulder. Her head lay against me. We kissed, a real kiss, our first real kiss, and there would be many more to come. And this wasn’t some soft demur bullshit by the way.

She went pensive suddenly, “There’s something I want to tell you Rick, something that I think you’ll like a lot.”

Cue knowing smile, “Really? Do tell.”

Alright I know what you might be thinking, especially if you’re one of those people who believes in love and all that. (Myself included.) I still played the asshole. I mean a REALLY nice guy would have come clean with Alicia about her programming, told her that they loved her the way she was, given her a hug and sung kum bai ya or something. And then refused to accept her any other way than what she was before stated orders became true.

But I had a different mindset. Throw bigger breasts in and a willingness/want for an occasional threesome and Alicia became every guy’s honest dream: pretty, sane, and having the brains to actually hold a conversation (beyond “Oh MY GAWD have you seen those heels!). The question wasn’t if I wanted her. The question was what would I do to fuck it all up? The question was what could I do to be worthy of all of the awesomeness that was her?

I ended up puzzling over it for a long time. Wondering what I was getting into, but not doubting that it was worth it. Eventually that answer came to me and it was pretty fucking simple.

I’ve been faithful up to the very moment that I write these words to you. And it’s kind of sucked sometimes I’ll be honest. She has grad school and I got a job, and they’re both in different states so we don’t see each other too much. I mean we talk on the phone a lot, but that only carries so far. Like any guy my eyes do wander from time to time (or second to second), but my heart always stays in the same place and more importantly, my cock. The rock musician Alice Cooper said it best in an interview (paraphrased) my wife we’ve been together for many years. She’s my friend. She’s my everything. Why would I want to fuck that up to bust a nut? For three seconds of orgasm? That’s insane.

And that’s where I’m at, plain and simple. I love her, and I love my life. Yeah, maybe a ticker tape parade in my honor might have been nice or a congressional medal of honor, or having thousands of hot women throwing themselves at my feet to know the pleasure of what it’s like to screw someone who saved the world. But it’s strange, none of that shit matters to me right now. My Dad is insanely shocked (in a good way) that I’m owning up for my fuck up on the house. I have a job that’s respectable with the promise of a better tomorrow. And I got the girl of my dreams, even if I didn’t realize it in the first place. I feel proud of myself in a way that I’ve never known before. I mean I was fucking Gandhi plus the power to actually do something.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t like an audience from time to time.

So lay it on me. If you’ve read this far you probably liked the story. If you didn’t and for some reason have read this far you’re probably a masochist and should seek help. But whatever your disposition; drop me an email or post on the forum. Tell me what you thought. It doesn’t have to be positive, but a little thank you wouldn’t hurt. (I do have a little vanity and I did save the world.) I know this is shameless, but…I’m human. What can I say?