The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I went to Melody first, checking to make sure she was okay. Carefully I unwrapped the tape that held her wrists and ankles to the chair, rolled it up onto itself, and put it in my pocket. I’d discard that later, far away from the apartment. I laid her gently on the floor. She’d sleep until I sent a command to Master PC on the laptop from my smart-watch. The other two would sleep until I manually awakened them with Master PC.

Bresten’s MPC was sitting on the kitchen table, booted up, logged in, and unlocked. The case for it was on the floor under the table. I stood at the table and looked over his system. It was running Version 0.99.11.7, which was newer than the version on my original MPC. The screen looked mostly the same, but there was one new menu selection that I noticed right away: HISTORY.

The MPC was connected to Cristina Alvarado. I selected the HISTORY menu item and found what I’d hoped I’d find: A complete history of all changes he had made to her. The last thing he’d done was make her so that she’d orgasm continuously when he fucked her. I undid that, then I scrolled back through her history, undoing everything he’d done to alter her. The rotating display showed that Ms. Alvarado had been quite the bombshell before Bresten had blown her breasts and ass up to much larger proportions. She was back to her “ordinary” bombshell self, though with some injury to her face and her vagina from his brutal treatment of her. I’d take care of that later.

Connecting to John Bresten showed an interesting history of alterations. Of course he’d given himself a porn star penis. And of course I dropped that back down even below his original low-average size. He’d gone for muscle size, then cranked his strength up to absurd levels. Then he’d had to repair a broken humerus in his left arm because his muscles were far stronger than his bones could take. Apparently having learned a painful lesson, he reduced his strength to more reasonable levels. It seemed that it hadn’t occurred to him to modify the density and crystalline structure of his bones, as I had done. I reduced his strength back to his initial level when he’d started using MPC, but left his physical appearance the same. People had seen him making a scene at the hotel, and a sudden change in his appearance would raise eyebrows.

I removed the passwords, both on John Bresten’s profile and on the MPC itself, then brought up a list of everyone in range. Bresten’s newer version let me sort them by distance. My original MPC didn’t have that feature, but I’d added it to laptop version. His command window also had timing options, which my original MPC didn’t have. In a couple of minutes I’d programmed Cristina’s two nearest neighbors to “hear” sounds of a struggle and her calling for help, 15 minutes into the future, and feel compelled to make immediate calls to 911 to report it. That done, I shut the MPC down and packed up it in its case. That would be leaving with me. I carried the case and set it next to the apartment door.

A quick search of the apartment turned up the duct tape and the spray bottle with his knockout juice. I taped Cristina’s hands together behind her back and laid her back on the couch. The tiniest little droplet of the knockout juice in her mouth ensured that the police would find traces of it in her bloodstream. Bresten got a somewhat larger dose. I didn’t care if it gave him a little bit of brain damage, but I did want him alive to face the consequences of his actions.

Kneeling down next to Melody, I sent the command from my watch to the laptop in the RV. Her eyes fluttered open.

“I knew you’d come for me, Ted.” I hugged her close.

“Of course, baby, of course.”

“Um, Ted?”

“I know you have a million questions, Melody, and I will answer all of them, but we need to get out of here first.”

She nodded.

The stairs had been the right choice. Nobody uses the stairs in a building with elevators. I’d wiped down everything Melody had touched, then taken her and Bresten’s MPC down the stairs and out of the apartment building. I’d left the door to the apartment unlocked. That would make it easy for the police when they showed up to investigate the 911 calls.

Back in the RV I stowed Bresten’s MPC in the bedroom, next to the bed. I shut down The Beast and rolled it back to its closet, leaving the laptop up and running.

“We need to leave immediately,” I told Melody. She slid into the passenger’s seat and buckled her seatbelt. A couple of seconds of typing later and she was asleep and would remain asleep until she heard me asking her to wake up. I didn’t want to be sitting right in front of the place when the police arrived, so I drove the RV around the block, parking it as close as possible to Cristina’s apartment building. The laptop showed that I was still in range of her apartment. I got to work on some necessary changes.