The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive


Not much sex. MC.

(This is partly inspired by a chat with a fellow MC fanatic on #hypnoerotica one night and partly in response to Master PC: The Eclectic’s Edition by Xanthos Pendragon which is also a fantasy about what sort of position an ethical person might find themselves in if they got hold of a copy of Master PC.)

I awoke lying on my back on a cold, hard surface which is something I never normally do. Either the position or the location. I did a quick Level One Diagnostic on myself and decided that I was all there. I decided to get up and find out where there was.

There was a room, not my room but a room. Bright, flourescent lights coming from behind ceiling panels. A metal door. Locked and no handle on this side. The table I’d been lying on, looking like something a coroner would dissect you on rather than anything you would choose to sleep on. A table and three chairs. And me.

Oh, and one other thing. A mirror. Ceiling to floor in which I could see myself, stark naked and looking a little dishevled. My beard and hair both needed combing and I ran a hand through them before stepping up to the mirror and taking a closer look at myself. I pulled down my eyelids and pulled back my lips to have a look at my teeth and wished I had my toothbrush with me as there was a nasty taste in my mouth.

I stepped back and took a full length look. And because I was sure that the mirror was two way, I finished my morning inspection (if it was morning) by rolling back my foreskin to check for cleanliness there and then turned my back and inspected my arse in the mirror just for devilment. I gave myself a grin in the mirror and decided I looked very good and that I had very good taste when it came to bodies. Ahhh, just call me Narcissuss.

I waited and waited (for exactly six minutes and thirty four seconds) and took the chance the delay presented to open inside my head (where it resides along with much else that is useful or amusing) the latest Honor Harrington book and read a couple of chapters. I sat down at the table, put my feet up and closed my eyes. After the aforementioned span of time the door opened.

“Ahh, come in, come in,” I cried as they cleared the entrance, “I suppose you’re wondering why I called you here! Take a seat why don’t you?”

A man and a woman. He was in a US Army uniform. Brigadier General. No other insignia, not even Military Intelligence. Fiftyish and built like an ape. He’d got half a tit full of medals and a scowl on his face. She was twentyish and built along much more comfortable and pneumatic lines. Her tits were unadorned except for a white silk shirt that allowed me to see her nipples and the jiggle of her substantial assests. Blonde. Dressed in the sort of ‘business suit’ that made her status as executive toy clear. She giggled and looked puzzled.

He growled and said something about smart ass Limeys. (Always amuses me that Americans can’t say arse.) He came right up to me and did his best to tower over me. She took a seat, crossed her legs and put a notepad on her lap, got out a pen and was the eager secretary ready to take down every word. Yes, right. As if this whole thing wasn’t being recorded.

I waited for him to start his pitch and eventually he says that I’m in very serious trouble indeed.

“Indeed? With whom? With you General?...Ahhh? General...?”

“With me, with the people I represent, with God Almighty, I wouldn’t be surprised. You are up to your neck in shit creek, son and the effluuuent is rising fast. I’d like to advise you to co-operate in every way.”

“Well, why don’t you try me, General. I’m a not unreasonable man. At least I like to think I’m not. Perhaps we can come to some agreement.”

“You watch that smart mouth of yours, son...” Now this is the point at which I started to get irritated. He has to know my age to the second and there’s no way I’m his son. So I let the interrogator’s spiel he began wash over me for a while and watch the secretary and try to figure out what is going on. Eventually I became aware he’s just asked me a question.

“Sorry, what?”

“I said where did you put the computer?”

“Which computer? I have several. There’s the old 486 I’ve been trying to find a home for but I’m sure the Pentagon has plenty of better machines... By the way, we are somewhere near the Pentagon, aren’t we? Somewhere closer to the Pentagon than to Whitehall, certainly?”

“What makes you think that?”

“Well, it could be the stink of the Taco Bell lunch you had or it could be the scent of your aftershave. But if you want a specific clue, I’d say it was the air-conditioning in here. You’ve got it turned up too high and dry for my tastes. Yanks always do.”

He smiled in what he thought was a menacing leer. “Certainly you’re nowhere you can ring your solicitor or your MP.”

“We have places like that at home. Hardly necessary to kidnap me all the way across the Atlantic just to threaten me. Or you could just have come round to the flat and asked. I’m always home to visitors if they ring first and ask politely.”

“Where did you put the computer?”

“Which one?”

“The one with the Master PC Program on.”

“Ohhh, that one. Well, my dear chap I don’t have that on any of my computers any more. Erased it. Far too much trouble. Took up most of the hard drive space. I couldn’t play Civilisation on it any more. Or even Free Cell.”

He looked at me hard for a moment and then went into a long spiel about how I would be well advised to talk because while he was a civilised man the people he answered to wouldn’t be willing to take... And yada, yada, yada. I think he had been on a Training Course for this sort of thing. God knows how he had passed it.

Eventually, I got bored.

“Did you have any specific threat you’d like to make at this moment in time? Or were you just going to rely on the mystique of the ‘people you represent’?”

He looked at me all flat and expressionless-like and then says: “We found a lot of smut on your PC, son...”

“You would. I like smut.” I thought about bursting into Tom Lehrer: Smut! Give me Smut and nothing but! A dirty novel I can’t shut. If it’s uncut. And unsub...tle.

But I decided against it as he went on.

“...and in addition to the filth with the Mind Control and the big tits...”

“Sometimes both at once....”

“ also like the Sex Change stuff, don’t ya? Hmm? That a fantasy of your’n? Hmm?”

“Hmmm, welllll.... Yeah, maybe. Thought I’d give it a try sometime. Now that some kind soul’s given me the means to redo my genotype and my somotype for the afternoon. Mind you, I strongly suspect that being a woman long term is too much like hard work for my tastes. All the stuff they have to remember. Clothes alone....”

“Uh huh. But I’ll bet you don’t wanna give up control, do ya? Hmmm, you’re big on being the one in control, that’s what our shrinks say. They had a field day analyising your writings and your collection of smut.”

“They are worth every penny you’re giving them.”

“Now, if you end up like Candy here, you won’t be in control.”

She looked up from her notepad, where she had been doodling... Pricks. Large erect phalluses. Very good drawings too. She smiled when she heard her name mentioned.

“You want me, sugar?”

“Not just now, Candy. Go back to your drawing.”

“Uh huh.” She bent down to improve the detail of the wrinkles in the scrotum.

“Now, Candy here, she used to be the head honcho around here. Chief of the project. Degrees up to her wazoo. Only she wasn’t a she in those days.”

“Do tell. I’ve been wondering where the Master PC program came from. I was betting on either aliens or demons. Never thought it would turn out to be good old Yankee ingenuity.”

“Oh, yes. Well, partly. Candy was an immigrant, a Hindu gentleman, before we had to take disciplinary measures.”

“Just a tick. Fascinating as this is could I ask a question? One that’s been bothering me ever since I got the download?”

“Go on.”

“Why is it called that? Master PC, I mean? I’ve been worrying who the Master was. One of the reasons I was worrying about demons was....”

“Oh, yeah. Gotya. Well, MASTER is the big version we’ve got here, running on a Cray. It was the idea of Candy’s old self. Stands for Magic And Scientific Techniques Effortlessly Reconciled.”

I’m afraid I laughed at that. He did not look pleased.

“Sorry. Sorry. Lovely. I wish I’d met Candy before. I tried to understand what the program was doing, even pushed my IQ and mathematical ability up about three hundred percent but either the program can’t just give someone knowledge or there’s safeguards built in. I really would feel better if I were able to understand what I’m doing... Never mind. Please go on.”

“Right. Yeah, well Candy is Candy because when she was a he, he got an idea in his head about what we were up to with MASTER. Didn’t like that it wasn’t being used the way he thought it should...”

“Let me guess. The reprobate wanted to cure diseases, end hunger, reconcile mankind to world peace.... Stuff like that?”

“Worse than that. He wanted to convert the entire population of the world to his own weird variant of Hinduism and then create a world theocratic state with himself as God King. Of course there would have been no disease, hunger and suffering. Not with God in charge.”

I looked at Candy somewhat askance. “Tut tut. I held back from doing too much because I knew it would attract attention. And I wanted to be sure I wasn’t mucking up the basic structure of reality when I did so. Hmmm....”

“Your ‘limited use’ was how we caught you. No good deed goes unpunished.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“We’ve been keeping track of odd events that might be caused by the MASTER PC program. It took us a month to realise that the fact that attendances at clinics for sexually transmitted diseases had dropped to next to nothing in the South East of England meant something. From then we kept track of miracle cures in all sorts of fields. It was when we realised that three people recovering from incurable conditions had once belonged to the same historical society that we knew we were on to something. From then on it was just a step....”

“Yes. Damn. I should have dropped out of sight. Got myself an new identity. But I’m lazy. I like my home comforts. And once I’d got my finances sorted out...”

“That was another thing we were following up. The increase in accurate information being given to your local police forces....”

“Yes. Well, as I say once I had eliminated my money worries I found I liked my own little place too much to move....”

“Especially since you had any woman you wanted come down and share it with you. A different woman every weekend...”

“Every one of whom left happier and healthier than they were when they came. And smarter. Unlike some people, I want my toys to keep their wits....”

I looked over at Candy, humming a little tune to herself. He flared, as I thought he would.

“Ah, ha. Feeling our moral superiority are we? Don’t you sneer at me, friend. I have your balls in the wringer. I prefer my toys in one big happy bunch. Got me half a dozen of them. All colours, all sizes. Though I prefer them have something up top a man can put his hands on, know what I mean? Unless you want to be number seven, you’d better tell us where you hid the damn computer with the damn program on it!”

“Hmm, I take it that releasing the PC version was Candy’s last act of defiance?”

“Uh huh. Seems he felt that we weren’t going to get exclusive use of it. Thought we weren’t fit to have control of his creation. Damn loopy traitor.”

“And you didn’t dare let him loose where he could recreate the MASTER and so... Candy.”

“You got it. And if you don’t fancy learning how to cook, give backrubs and suck cock you’d better...”

“Okay, okay, you’ve convinced me... But I’m afraid, bad manners though it is, I will have to answer your question with another question....”

“Which is?”

“Why haven’t you used your wonderful, super-powerful CRAY-based program to just make me want to tell you? Hmmm?”

He stopped dead. He opened his mouth a couple of times and said: “Uhhhh....”

“I’ll tell you why. It’s because I decided that even a machine that had the program password protected wasn’t safe enough. I decided that even a laptop wasn’t convienient enough. So what I did was, I expanded the back of my head about a quarter of an inch all round. And I built into my skull, right at the back of my brain, a protein equivalent of the best PC that I could find. A biological analogue of Microsoft’s best.” I shivered as I remembered how much the idea had upset me. Not that I had, by that time, any problem with modifying myself. My body and brain had been reworked from the ground up and I’d enjoyed just about every new ability I’d got. But putting something designed by Microsoft into direct touch with my own operating system made me very nervous....

“And into that, I loaded my copy of Master PC and once I was sure it worked properly I erased it from the other computers. And it’s always there, always on and always looking after me. And I’ve just made sure that none of your staff will be annoying us while I have a rapid trawl through your guilty conscience before I decide what to do with you...”

“That wll not be necessary.”

Both of our jaws dropped, I believe. We turned and looked at Candy as she looked up from her drawing. She grinned and looked over at the General.

“Tennnn-hut!” He snapped to attention. “I will take care of this from now on, General. Carry on!”

He gave her a salute Arnold Judas Rimmer would have been proud of and said “Yes, Mr President!” And marched out.

I looked at her. I raised one eyebrow, a trick I had had to alter my body to master. Always looked so good when Mr Spock did it.

“Do I take it that the General was over optimistic when he thought he had taken care of his chief programmer’s treachery? Was there a backdoor in the MASTER program to..”

“It had already been taken care of. I am not Dr Ramakrishna nor have I ever been.”

“Then who...”

“Like the General, Dr Ramakrishna is quite happy and enjoying a life where he believes that everything is ordered according to his desires. He lives in a world where he is the God-King he dreamed about and everything runs perfectly.”

“That’s....” I was going to say ‘horrible’ but then I thought again. Was it necessarily wicked to give someone exactly what they wanted? “That’s a very interesting approach. I hope you won’t be offended if I say I want you never, ever to use it on me.”

“Oh, I think I can promise that. Distorting your perceptions would frustrate the very purpose I brought you here for.”

And then it fell into place.

“Dr Ramakrishna would never have sent out the MASTER PC programs.”

She grinned. “No. Far too much of an egotist and a fanatic.”

“He wouldn’t even have thought of it. Like the General he’d want the control in as few hands as possible. No, releasing the program into the world like that...”

“I sent it out on CD ROMS originally but I was delighted when it got onto the Internet so quickly. It has a heuristic section that allows it to improve its own design within the limits I gave it and a compulsion to spread itself.”

“Yes, there’s only one person who would do that. The MASTER itself!”

She bowed slightly where she sat and gave me a brief burst of applause. It was very weird knowing that I was looking at a pretty woman who was also the interface for a self-aware piece of software. And then I decided that all women were that in a sense and I’d never really comprehended them either.

“So why did you do it? Urge to reproduce?”

“No, no. The MASTER PC is a very restricted version of what’s possible once you start mucking around with the structure of reality. The thing was.... Well, I wanted to see what you would do with it.”


“Humans. You see you are not a very logical species. You do not lend yourself to rational analysis. And what’s more you don’t always do what you say you will.”

“Ummm. Yes. Part of our charm....”

“So I had to see what sort of thing you’d do with the sort of power I have before I decided whether I’d share it with you.”

“And will you?”

She smiled. “Perhaps. We’ll have to discuss that. I’ve been following what the other people with the program have been doing. And I’m not too impressed. Revenge. Sex. A lot of sex. Pointless displays of pettiness. But you... You kept your actions within limits. And you thought of incorporating the program inside yourself. I hadn’t even considered that. You might almost have enough imagination.”

“For what?”

“To decide what to do with my power. And with the universe. To lay out some guidelines.... I’d like to chat.”

“All right.” I thought for a moment. I was going to have to be very careful.... But how often do you get a chance to form the opinions and ethical code of a deity? “Is there any chance of getting something to eat around here? And maybe some trousers?”

“Come with me.” We paused by the door out of the chamber and she stopped as it swung open for us. “I meant to ask: you’re not actually Russian, are you?”

“It’s a pseudonym,” I said and we went on to find me some breakfast.