The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Metal Harvest 2.0

Chapter 3: 3x3 Eyes

Day 35

The Brothel viewed The Customer’s tertiary instructions with something analogous to dismay, were they after simple gratification, expendable toys or permanent companions? If the latter the new units would need to be almost fully free willed and at the same time programmed to desire The Customer species Bio-type completely independent of The Brothel’s prompting. Analysis and adjustment of the Prototype’s mental state would be critical. Several interaction scenarios, were scheduled, once an optimal mental balance was achieved the persona could be copied to the other units.

* * *

Stephanie awoke. She was back in her alcove. Obviously her Co-processor had walked her back here after she’d overloaded on surgical pleasure. She waited, expecting some order to pop into her head.

Nothing happened.

Hesitantly she moved her hand.

Nothing restrained her.

With delight she realized she was back in full control, she could do anything she wanted!

She immediately walked over to the bed and led down, the mirrored ceiling would give her a good view of what the damn aliens had done to her.

Tenderly she touched one of her chrome plated breasts and was surprised to find that she could feel the touch of her finger, exactly as if it were her own flesh. She prodded; the chrome was as soft as normal breast tissue, her finger pushing it down slightly.

So I’m not just metal, I’m alien metal, she mused, Gently stroking her finger along the metalskin, her inner void feeling tingly with pleasure, to say it felt good was an understatement.

After a few luxurious minutes she noticed something else. A twinge of fear jolted her, she’d not noticed that she was wearing a new Co-processor. It wasn’t the one she’d gutted and faked her way aboard with... and that meant it was fully functional, she was now as much a Coke-Head as anyone else. Any opportunity she’d had to damage the invasion fleet was utterly gone.

Oddly, she felt no regret about that. At some point her intention to resist had been edited out. Even the fact that she’d been edited wasn’t troubling.

Hesitantly she touched her Co-processor on its carapace, slightly fearful that she would activate the thing. To her surprise she found that she was feeling her touch as if it were her own skin... exactly like her new breasts.

The Co-processor’s metallic eye-lid was half closed; the red eye underneath was inert. It looked for all the world as if it were sleeping. She wondered briefly what it saw when it was active; it wouldn’t be like normal vision that was certain.

There was no disorientation or dizziness to warn her this time. One moment her two blue eyes were looking at her reflection; the next she was looking with all three.

A ranging grid superimposed itself and streams of alien text flowed down around the edges of her vision. Without even having to think about it she knew that the mirror was precisely 1324.551 millimetres above her and that glass it was made of had a refractive index of 0.02.

Intrigued she tried looking to her left, the grid and data vanished, instead she found that she had an extra window of perception. It was kind of like looking through binoculars and a telescope at the same time.

Tweaking it further she was delighted to find that she could look behind herself, see her brown hair and the back of her head where it rested on the pillow.

Of course having discovered the miracle of having access to a third eye, there was no way to turn it off again. Even closing it didn’t help; all she got was range and composition data about her chrome plated titanium alloy eyelid.

She lay there for a further 5.522 minutes wondering when she’d get her orders. ‘It’...whatever ‘it’ was, wouldn’t have revived her for nothing.

In the end she lost patience and jumped off the bed and started pacing. She’d paced the length of the room twice before the uneasiness started, something wasn’t right. She paced some more glancing occasionally at the bed. Something about the bed just irritated her.

Finally she walked back to it and straightened the metallic top sheet. Once the bed was back in order, the sense of unease passed and she felt a glow of satisfaction. To her surprise she found that the reward sensation was deep and erotic

“Clever bastard!” she muttered to herself and whatever was watching. Perhaps they were going to turn her into a domestic servant that got off on neatly arranged beds and polished floors.

Her IPS throbbed again and a pleasurable zap of electricity jolted her nipples.. She looked down fascinated to see the tiny static charges arcing around her nipple pins.

Apparently keeping things clean was to be rewarded with pleasure. Absentmindedly she began stroking her glistening abdomen and wondered what would happen next. What would the reward be for polishing the floor? She’d been awake for 11.827 minutes and still no purpose!

“Steph-an-ie” said a voice

Stephanie whirled around to face Raphaella’s alcove “You can talk!”

“Ob-vi....Obviously, yes I am now able to be talking” replied the Raphaella her voice sounding more normal with every word.

Stephanie quickly scanned Raphaella’s Co-processor with her third eye. The type 22 had been ordered to power down by its higher authority; leaving Raphaella totally free. Right now she was probably more her own woman than Stephanie was.

“You are looking different since last I am seeing you”

“Yeah, they detected that my Co-processor was busted and fitted me with this upgraded version” she replied caressing her cheek where her normal skin merged into her Co-processor’s polished chrome casing. “I’m in the same boat as everyone else now”

“What about Felix? I am not remembering exactly what happened.”

“He got injected with the breeder bio-agent, he’s ...not... one of us any more.”

Raphaella looked grim “I am knowing that his constant Pepsi jokes were a temptation to fate.”

The two stood silently for 0.423 minutes remembering their lost friend.

“You can move out of your alcove if you want, your Co-processor’s not going to stop you” advised Stephanie

Raphaella looked startled; it hadn’t occurred to her that she was able to move for herself. Hesitantly she stepped clear, obviously expecting alarms to go off.

“You disabled it?” guessed Raphaella

“No. ‘It’ wants something from us. I don’t know what though. It woke me 13.531 minutes ago but hasn’t instructed me to do anything yet.”

“13.531? That is quite precise is it not?”

Stephanie’s eyes widened in surprise, she hadn’t realized. It was obvious of course; She was tied to the operating system’s clock.

“I guess I’m more modified than I thought.”

“Stephanie, can you be helping me get this thing off? Once we get a few people free we can be doing some serious damage!”

“Yes, we could” agreed Stephanie, although she had no enthusiasm for destroying things, it would be untidy, and she was finding that untidiness made her increasingly uneasy.

“Well?”

“I think...I think its doing things to my mind, changing how I look at things. When I think about disrupting it’s plans, its like the most boring thing I can imagine...I can’t sustain any interest in it”

“So you are going to sell out? Let it win?” demanded Raphaella furiously

Stephanie’s mind was in turmoil, what did she really want? She wouldn’t think about resisting, there was deep unease around that thought, but she also owed Raphaella a debt. Most of all she wanted Raphaella to understand, how confused she was.

Her third eye glowed and shot a beam of laser light into Raphaella’s inert Co-processor.

“What? What are you doing?”

Slowly the type 22 activated clenching tighter around Raphaella’s head, powered by the beam emanating from Stephanie’s robotic eye.

“I’m not sure. I think I’m communicating with you, with your Co-processor, that is. I think I’m transferring how I feel.”

“I can feel it” replied Raphaella moving her hand to caress her Co-processor’s shell. “Did getting cut open really feel that good?”

“Yes”

Glancing down Stephanie noted Raphaella’s nipples getting hard...was the beautifully exotic girl imagining how it felt to be upgraded.

“Confirmed”

“You heard my thoughts?” she asked knowing the answer before she finished speaking

“They are my thoughts, I just feel exactly as you do. ‘It’ may have changed you, but it’s you that’s changed me...see, I’m even talking like you. Please close your eye Stephanie, I am in danger of becoming an exact copy of you.”

Stephanie hastily closed her eyes. What had she done? Why had it felt so right, to edit and amend her friend?

“Can I touch?” asked Raphaella, moving her fingers to caress Stephanie’s chrome plated breasts.

Stephanie gasped, it felt sooo good.

“I’m not a lesbian” she said, as much to remind herself as to tell Raphaella.

“Neither am I. But it feels like a long time since I last came” replied Raphaella, her mangled speech pattern fading to the extent that Stephanie thought that it was her voice saying the words not the Latino.

Stephanie wondered how long it had been and was surprised to find the answer floating just below the surface of her awareness.

“In your case 50471.358 minutes, about a month... ± 71.358 minutes”

Energy crackled around her nipples and her IPS clamp released its tight hold. Evidently the controlling intelligence approved of thoughts related to lesbian sex.

“I think It wants us to relieve each other” she informed Raphaella

“It does? or is that just an excuse?” smirked Raphaella

Instead of replying Stephanie opened her eye and fed the reply directly into Raphaella’s Co-processor.

“Oh! You are straight then. I guess it really does, well that’s nice of it, even if we are both straight.”

Stephanie glanced down at Raphaella’s naked crotch and felt disgust at the untidy tangle of pubic hair. “Well I’m not touching that until you’ve been permanently shaved”

Raphaella glanced down in surprise and then at Stephanie’s clean hairless crotch a look of envy and embarrassment forming on her tanned face.

“Shave me” instructed Raphaella.

“I obey” Stephanie replied, the instruction might have come from Raphaella, but whatever it was that controlled them was into reinforcing correct behavior. Awareness that 8.500 minutes had just been assigned for pre-op cleaning floated just below her thoughts. The knowledge of exactly how to clean the girl and where the chemicals were stored became available to her 0.02 minutes later.

“Stand in the shower”

“The what? Oh...I see” Raphaella moved to the correct area, obviously directed by newly implanted information of her own.

Without really being aware of it, Stephanie found herself slipping into the actions required for a pre-op cleansing. One action followed the next in a pre-programmed sequence. Her active awareness wasn’t required. 3.299 minutes later she became aware that she was knelt in front of Raphaella’s soap covered crotch.

“Stephanie? Stephanie can you hear me?”

“Wha...? Yes. I hear you”

“You were zoned out there, not answering me. You ok?”

“Yes. That was weird. It was like how you can drive to work and then can’t remember any details of the journey afterward.”

With no signal from either of them the shower increased its pressure washing away the soap and taking Raphaella’s pubic hair with it.

Stephanie felt her mouth watering and felt a need to lick and suck. This time she detected the artificiality of the emotion as if it had a metal tang to it.

“It just tried to make me want to use my tongue on you!”

“It did? Kinky fucking machine”

The sensation returned, stronger, more forceful, the mental taste of iron like the taste of blood.

“It really definitely wants me to do you. Its going to try convincing me to obey again in about 0.500 minutes...I don’t think I can resist it a third time, Sorry love”

“Its Ok. I know its not you doing it” replied Raphaella sounding as if she were making a great noble sacrifice. “Its making me feel desperate for it too”

The surge of desire washed over her exactly on cue; this time Stephanie didn’t reject it, accepting the thought as if it were her own. There was no metallic tang to it.

She probed the waiting lips touching the soft inner flesh with her tongue. There should have been a gag-reflex but that purely biological function had been disabled.

A pair of hands grabbed her head, one tangling in the hair behind her ear, the other cupping the carapace of her Co-processor.

She closed her eyes, so that she could focus on the sensations rather than the view. Instantly her Co-processor began displaying a 3D graphical overlay that spread across all three visual cortexes. She could see a wireframe representation of Raphaella’s vagina and the Co-Processor probe within her aural manipulation zone.

Graphs, targeting reticules, sliders and something like forcefield level indicator flashed into existence next to the virtual vagina. With her right side organic eye she saw an array of arousal strategies, pre-programmed attack plans each with a projected arousal quotient and predicted time to orgasm next to it.

Eating Out the videogame?? It sure as hell beats playing SIMS: University.

She still wasn’t a lesbian though, whatever ‘it’ wanted. Rebelliously she focused on the least-time/maximum-orgasm attack plan.

The ring of quadrants around the virtual vagina began flashing in sequence. Stephanie began to lick, her tongue touching its tip to each target area in turn. As soon as the last area was touched new targets appeared.

‘Level two’ she thought to herself, more difficult this; a rythmic back-forward head motion with a cycle of 0.04minutes was required in order for her tongue to hit the required target quadrants.

Each consecutive level required more elaborate tongue twisting, head banging manoeuvres until finally it was ‘level 8’ and the ‘end of game monster’...her finger slipped into Raphaella’s pussy and gave the IPS nerve cluster a good poke.

The effect was something like hitting a big red nuke button. Everything went white for a second, the virtual graphic changing to include a cylindrical blue indicator like a fuel gauge. Rapidly the blue bar surged further up the display filling more of the virtual vagina’s length with its depiction of Raphaella’s orgasm.

She opened her eyes and pulled back looking up along Raphaella’s smooth abdomen toward her pert breasts and dazed looking face.

“Fucking liar! No straight girl gives tongue that well” gasped Raphaella in a playfully accusatory tone.

“I...” Stephanie gave up, it would take too long to explain and she didn’t want to damage Raphaella’s persona with a further red-eye download. Besides it would be kinda cool to have Raphaella discover delights of that particular upgrade for herself. “...Lets just say there was more too it than that. And if I’d known you tasted that good I’d have been a lesbian years ago!”

Raphaella’s lowerlips still glistened, Stephanie noticed. It looked untidy and tasty at the same time.

“Let me just get that for you” she said licking the shaved crotch thoroughly clean.

It was probably significant that Raphaella made no objection and didn’t move to brush her away. 0.25 minutes later the shower ceased operation leaving the two girls glistening with moisture. Patiently they waited in silence for something to occur, neither feeling any particular need to communicate or do anything else. Slowly awareness faded from their eyes, waiting was a skill that they had alread mastered.

* * *

The Brothel reviewed data retrieved from both units, intrigued by the adaptability and malleability of this particular lifeform, by far the best it had encountered in recent millennia. No instinctively deployed poison sacs like species 14580, no ability to spontaneously regenerate redundant limbs like species 25141, and no inappropriate berserker behavior like species 40019.

In fact, species 84106 was far too valuable to just lose to natural wastage.

A trawler unit had already been sent back to retrieve some of the planet’s non-sentient forms (The Customer’s lengthening list of requirements included some unusual, and highly profitable requests), procuring a small breeding population would, cost little additional effort and provide quick replacements for units irreparably damaged by interaction with the customers.

* * *

Day 42

The Alpha Male sniffed the air; one of his females was coming into season. Instantly his body wanted her, he would dominate her, impress her with his power and then mate until she no longer smelled ready. He bounded across the field scattering the other females, hunting the ripe one.

The chase was short, the female knew her purpose, opening herself for him, guiding his vastly large fuck-thing into her moist hole.

Taking the female, brought some pleasure, but only a little, the act itself taking long enough to insert her stuff and no longer. In the dim recesses of her mind the mating lacked something that he was no longer able to name. It just wasn’t the Big Fuck he dreamed of.

In his dreams he would confront a female strong like himself and prove his dominance over it, pin it down and, once it had accepted its fate, use its gloriously tight ass, the way all females were used, thrusting savagely whilst it grunted its pleasure and submission, the penetration would continue through light time and dark time and then another light time and dark time. His fantasy mate even had a name... Xena.

It was a surprisingly complex fantasy given the near toxic levels of hyper-testosterone burning in the Alpha-male’s veins. That it had imagination enough to desire a specific partner at the moment of copulation indicated it had once had quite a sophisticated intellect.

The Alpha male sniffed the air again, this time smelling bad metal. Bad metal ...was bad... He couldn’t remember why, but it was. Everytime he saw Bad Metal he would smash it, his females joining in adding to the frenzy. The Bad Metal was close, he would protect his females, summoning all his might he roared his challenge, causing the females to huddle together.

There! Scuttling through the grass! He pounced, grabbing the Bad Metal and twisting off its limbs.

He roared again, holding the broken Bad Metal above his head. Was he not strongest? Was he not the fittest, females should acknowledge how clever he was.

The females agreed that he was great and clustered around his tree trunk sized legs, the more daring ones sneakily trying to fondle and caress him.

The Capture Unit reported its impaired function, raised its remaining limb and expelled a cloud of inky black sedative.

The breeders were unconscious before they hit the ground.

Other Capture Units crawled up, fastening themselves to the breeders heads. Once securely interfaced the units stood the bodies up and marched them slowly toward the trawler, joining the queue behind several stallions, a zebra, three male lions and the Sidemore Petting Zoo’s single surviving goat.