The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The cockpit of the ship was a peaceful, silent bubble floating over the alien landscape. The only light was the eerie green glow from the instrument panels, and the only sound was the deep breathing of the co-pilot, asleep in the co-pilot’s chair.

Hollywood watched the horizon idly. There was almost nothing to see; unlike Earth, which was dotted with light everywhere but the oceans and the poles, this landscape was completely dark. Untouched. He liked it.

The silence lasted for a good five minutes before the sounds of shouting from outside the cockpit broke it.

There were two voices: one male, one female. The male voice said you can’t go in there and the female voice said watch me.

Whenever someone said ‘you can’t go in there’, someone would inevitably come in there.

The door opened, flooding the cockpit with light. A woman with dark hair tucked into a camouflage cap came in, followed by a man. The woman turned around, palmed the man’s face like a basketball, pushed him back out the door, and slammed it behind him.

“Hi Max,” Hollywood said.

“We need to go back.”

“We need to go where?” He looked up. The quiet moment was gone for good.

“One of my soldiers collapsed. I think. We don’t know what’s happening but no one’s answering us there.”

“Maybe they’re playing hookey. People get grass under their feet for the first time in six months, they like to romp a bit.”

“My people don’t play hookey,” Max said. “If she’s not answering me then something’s very wrong. She might be having a reaction to something in the air, or something in the water, and if that’s the case she could be dying right now.” It was, outside of microorganisms, the number one cause of death when securing a new world. Aliens didn’t kill people: contact with substances that the human body had never even heard of did.

“You’ll forgive my saying so but if she is, she’ll be dead long before we get there.”

“Turn it around.”

“No.” He spun the captain’s chair to face her. “Even if there weren’t forty people back there that need to get where they’re going, we don’t have the fuel for it. We’d be stuck there until a fuel ship could rendezvous. Is there enough food there to feed forty people for up to three days? Enough beds, bathrooms? Think about it.”

“Ok, I’m going to have to pull rank. Sorry. Do it.”

“This flight plan comes from Captain Havard. Is Captain above Sergeant? I forget.”

“He’ll agree with me. Call him up.”

“Can’t, he’s in the field.”

“Goddamnit.” She took off her cap and ran a hand through her hair. “Ok, are we passing any other bases anytime soon? Someplace that’ll have a Raptor?” A Raptor was a small craft similar in size and operation to a modern day helicopter.

“Sure. Iverson has a camp, about—” he looked at the instrument panel—“thirty clicks to the northeast. We’ll pass it in a few minutes.”

“Turn us towards it.”

“I just told you, I can’t—”

“You can’t turn the ship slightly left for a few minutes? Really? You can’t do that?”

He sighed. “Fine.”

“Thanks.” The cockpit flooded with light as she opened the door, then it was dark again. Blessed, blessed silence.

He turned fifteen degrees north, leaned back, and watched the horizon.

The cabin of the craft was long and narrow and lined with cadets and privates, exactly twenty on each side. The seats all faced the aisle.

Glass was trying to impress the cadet next to him with war stories. The cadet, a chestnut-haired girl with a narrow but pretty face, looked unimpressed.

“On my first tour we actually had to parachute from orbit. The drop ship got hit with a meteor the size of a golf ball just as it entered the atmosphere. We were lucky, only got winged, so we had five minutes to get suits on and jump.”

“Is that so,” the cadet said.

“Yup. When you jump from that high there’s actually a balloon instead of a parachute, like a high altitude weather balloon. That takes you down to twenty thousand feet or so, then you pop it off and switch to a normal chute.”

“Uh huh,” the girl said.

“Of the four that got out in time one burned up in the atmosphere, balloon didn’t open in time or something, and one suffocated. Didn’t have his suit on right, he was in too much of a hurry. I actually didn’t have my suit on right either but I got it fixed before it started to ice over.”

“Hm,” the girl said.

“You don’t believe me.”

“Nope.”

“The other one that made it was Max, you can ask her. We landed in a swamp and before we even got our suits off some alligator looking thing comes out of nowhere and grabs her leg—that’s how she got that scar, and why she limps a little—”

The cockpit door opened. Max looked at Glass and Kit and said:

“Parachutes.”

Glass stopped his story mid-sentence and they both stood. Max opened a hatch near the front of the cabin and tossed them each a slim green pack, then took one out for herself.

All conversation in the cabin stopped.

The man who had been arguing with Max earlier followed her. He was a sergeant of the exact same rank, which was the source of their difficulties: neither of them could give the other an order.

“Hey,” he said. “Look out the window. Can you tell me what that is that we’re flying over?”

Max glanced out the window as she adjusted a strap. It was pitch black.

“No,” she said.

“That’s right, you can’t, because it’s the middle of the night. That’s number one. Number two is that what you can’t see down there is jungle. At least eighty kilometers of it in each direction.”

“Will there be bugs?” Glass asked.

“Alien bugs,” Kit said.

“Nuts.”

Max tightened one last strap and walked towards the door, the sergeant backpedaling in front of her. When it became apparent that she really was going to open it everyone got to their seats and seatbelts quickly.

“You people are—” the sergeant started to say, then Max threw the door open and the wind drowned him out. But it was easy to read his lips: fucking crazy.

Max hopped out, then Kit. Glass turned to the girl he had been sitting next to and winked. She rolled her eyes... but when he turned away she watched him until he jumped.

The sergeant struggled with the door, holding onto the overhead rack with one hand to keep from getting sucked out, before finally managing to pull it closed. The cadets looked at each other; several of them had lost their hats from the wind whipping around. Hands that had been gripping arm rests relaxed.

The chestnut-haired cadet leaned to the man beside her and whispered, “Who was that?”

And the sergeant, who had apparently supernatural hearing, barked: “His name is Keep It In Your Fucking Pants.”

The chestnut-haired cadet never knew it, but Glass had chosen that particular story to tell at that particular moment because, having known Max for years, he had a feeling that she was about to do something like the thing that she did.

Everyone’s a genius at something.

Three weeks later they met again and had lots of sex.

It was a long time before they even reached the forest. For the first hour two of the girls walked with Dana propped between them, helping her along and switching with the third when one of them got tired, then as Dana got her footing they walked with an arm around her waist, and finally they led her by the hand. She followed doggedly, looking at nothing.

She thought nothing.

She had perceptions but that’s all they were, sights and sounds and smells that had no meaning except for what they were.

There was a leaf in the grass by her feet, twisting in the breeze; there was a scent like chamomile from somewhere to her left; there was the chittering of some small animal that was bothered by the presence of the larger ones.

There was Isis’s hip, sometimes bumping hers. Isis was lanky, long-legged, and it gave her hips a natural swing. On Earth she might have been a model, but here everything was touch and smell, and she probably didn’t even know that there were places in the universe where her body would have been considered ideal.

There were the strange pretty voices of the catgirls as they had a discussion about something. They stopped for a break. Cleo curled up in the grass to take a nap, and Redhead sat beside her with her eyes half closed, picking burrs off of her tail with one hand. Isis was the only one of them that seemed to have any energy; she sat with Dana and watched the branches of the trees move, but soon she began to blink sleepily, and she sighed and put her head on Dana’s shoulder.

There was the creak of the trees and rich, earthy smells from the direction of the forest.

There was the warmth of Isis’s body, leaning against her.

There was the tickle of the flower of some plant touching her elbow.

Isis looked up at her. Even though Isis was taller, she had that ability that many tall girls do to shrink themselves by a few inches with a practiced slouch, and from a distance she seemed to be the smaller one, leaning against the Marine in the grass with her legs folded a little awkwardly beneath her. Even in the dark her pupils could be seen dilating.

She leaned in, hesitantly.

Their noses touched, then their lips—

There was a sudden flurry of hissing and red hair.

Isis jumped nearly straight into the air in surprise. She backpedaled out of the reach of Redhead’s clawing hands, pinwheeling her arms as she stumbled backwards.

Once she was at a safe distance she composed herself, smoothed her hair, and walked towards the forest casually, as if nothing had happened.

The little hut in the forest was ancient and sturdy. The boards lined up perfectly with no space between them, polished smooth on the inside, held together with wooden pegs. The craftsmanship seemed beyond what three nearly feral girls would be capable of. It was, perhaps, built generations before by fathers who didn’t want their exiled daughters sleeping on the ground.

Dana stood docilely as her clothes were removed. The boots were a problem; there was a lot of tugging and twisting and biting at the laces before they finally came off.

As her clothes went away her body was revealed as leaner and more sculpted than those of her teenage counterparts. It was sculpted, by years of training. There wasn’t really any natural activity that kept the back of one’s arms tight, but there were an infinity of workout regimens for it.

The main feature of the room was a large animal skin mattress against the far wall, and once Dana was naked Redhead climbed onto it, pulled Dana down with her, and twenty seconds later they were both deeply asleep.

A touch on Dana’s foot woke her. She couldn’t have slept long; early dawn light was still growing in the window.

Cleo was crouching at the foot of the bed. She ducked down when she saw Dana looking, then poked her head back up again. Her eyes wandered over Dana like a small animal considering stealing a meal from a larger one: she realized the danger posed by Redhead sleeping nearby, but was drawn on by need.

It got the better of her. She climbed up on the bed, carefully.

She touched Dana’s knees and, gently, pulled her legs apart, then slipped between them, her slim body moving with preternatural deftness. Her skin felt like silk. It was gorgeous skin; olive, smooth, healthy. She stretched upwards until their noses were touching, looked at Dana for a long somber moment, then moved back down.

Dana felt her body start to wake up. Her sensations were all touch and smell in the dim hut: skin brushing against her thigh, hair tickling her stomach, the girl’s nose touching her mons, and then...

Lights went off behind her eyes. Her back arched. Her body was awake now—boy, was it. This is what had been missing with the dry humping in the medical bay. Whatever Cleo was doing down there was what had been—

Again, and this time her entire body tensed like an electric shock. She grabbed handfuls of the mattress material.

Something warm and wet touched her neck. She looked to the side and saw a mane of sandy blonde hair.

Isis.

Maybe she’d been drawn by the scent of their sex or maybe she’d been hiding by the bed the whole time, waiting for her chance. She twined her hands with Dana’s and pressed them down into the mattress, squeezing, kissing. It wasn’t meant as a gesture of dominance but it felt like that, and it made Dana gasp and twist in catharsis, trapped between the nubile bodies and their eager affection.

The bed rocked. Redhead’s sleeping form rocked with it, but she did not wake up. She was all tuckered out. Dana was too, but her night was not over yet.

When their deed was done and the sweat was drying, the morning air began to feel cool again. Then cold. Dana shivered. There were no blankets.

They curled around her and kept her warm, all four of them on one side of the bed, and they slept like that through the entire morning, in a ball of bare limbs and multicolored skin.

Dawn was a thin pink line on the horizon when the Raptor finally returned them to the base. Iverson had let Max take it, even lent her a pilot, for two reasons: one, he had been around as long as she had and had the same shrewdness and respect for life that was necessary for one in that position, and two, he didn’t want them hanging around his base, eating his food and sleeping in his beds. His base was a small one; a camp, really. Only four soldiers including him were stationed there.

They hit the ground running with their weapons drawn, Max on point, and cleared each area quickly and silently. Quinn’s jacket was still hanging from the fence post and her hat was still in the grass by the door. The door itself was wide open.

The medical bay looked like it had been raided by a gang of kindergartners.

Tongue depressors were scattered all over the floor, miscellaneous medical containers were tipped over here and there, the mattress of one of the cots had been inverted, and the headsets that went with the big radio were missing. And on the center cot Quinn lay on her back, unconscious, a large purple flower covering her mouth and nose.

Her pulse was strong, her breathing slow but normal. She seemed to just be asleep. Her pants were pulled halfway down her hips, far enough to expose dark curly hair and a tiny tattoo of a dragon beside it, and her shirt and bra were pulled up over her breasts. Kit removed the flower with the barrel of her rifle and flicked it across the room, then started tugging her clothes back into place.

“Look at something else,” she told Glass.

“You do know I’ve seen way more of those than you have, right? Unless there’s something you want to tell me.”

Max opened Quinn’s left eye and shined a flashlight in it. The pupil contracted: her brain was fine.

“Do we have any stimulant, something that’ll wake her up? Look around.”

They looked, but it turned out not to be necessary. In the few minutes it took them to search the supplies (they weren’t medics and didn’t know where to start), Quinn began to stir. She mumbled something incoherent and her head lolled to the side. They helped her to a sitting position.

“Hey.” Max slapped her cheek. Her brow furrowed. Max slapped her again. Her eyes opened. They waited impatiently while she came to her senses.

“What happened?” Max asked.

“I dunno... I was...” She looked at the door. “I was moving the crates, and... I think Isis was there...”

“Where’s Dana?”

“She was in here... I think...” She blinked dazedly.

Glass and Kit did a sweep of the area while they waited for Quinn to become more lucid. They found nothing but the headsets that went with the radio, lying in the grass about ten feet from the rear door. When they returned Quinn was answering the same question for the third time.

“They are peaceful. The only time they’ve shown any hint of aggression was when there was a man around.”

“But you’ve only known them for a week.”

“Well, yeah. These particular girls, just a day.”

“Ok. Glass, Kit, gather up the basics. They’ve got six hours on us and we don’t even know which way they went. I’m hoping the forest, that’ll narrow it down.” They moved, splitting up to hunt down first aid kits, survival gear, and enough rations for a week. None of them were great at math but any of them could have told you that a 6 hour head start, at a walking speed of 4 miles per hour, gave you a search radius of 24 miles. A search radius of 24 miles was a potential search area of 1,809 square miles. Approximately.

As they reached the door, Quinn said from behind them in a small voice, “Glass can’t go.”

“Under the circumstances, them getting catty because they see a boy isn’t something I’m worried about,” Max said.

“It’s not that. They’re dangerous to him. Just being around them, breathing the same air.”

“Dangerous how.”

“His upper brain functions will shut down, the sexual part of his brain will go into overdrive, and you’ll end up having to drag him all the way back here, literally.”

Everyone stopped and looked at her. She was sitting on the cot, looking into her lap, a crumpled expression on her partly concealed face.

“What?”

Quinn took a breath. The search for supplies was good and forgotten. They closed around her, staring at her.

“I’m sorry. It was only supposed to be the men. I didn’t know.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Just what I said. It’ll happen after a few minutes of close contact with them. That’s the real reason for the ‘No Men Allowed’ sign. It has nothing to do with how they act. It’s a chemical their bodies produce when they’re in heat.”

The three Marines (Quinn was Army) shared a familiar look: the idiots upstairs almost got us killed again.

“This classified?” Max asked. “That why you didn’t tell us?”

“No,” Quinn said quietly, still talking to her lap. “No one knows but me. I didn’t tell anyone. I made sure they wouldn’t find out.”

“Explain yourself, Private.”

“It would take too long. You’ll have to take my word for it. If he goes near them, he’ll be brain dead for the next 24 hours.”

Max looked out the open door. The evening breeze had died and the sky was blending from pink to purple at the horizon, pale blue above that.

“They’ve already got a six hour head start, another few minutes won’t change anything. Talk fast.”

“About a week ago, we had an... incident at Captain Havard’s outpost. Me and one of the privates there, Miller, were doing tests on a couple of catgirls. I left the room for three minutes to use the bathroom and when I came back they were all gone.

“We looked all over, all around the base, nothing. We kept widening the sweeps but that base isn’t in grassland like here, it’s right on the edge of the forest and we had no way to track them. We didn’t find him until the next night. He was in a little hut in the woods, lying on the floor, just staring at the ceiling. He seemed to be conscious but he didn’t respond to anything, even his own name. We got him back and did some tests...

“His upper brain functions had completely shut down. Math, language, everything. Gone. He was basically an animal.

“We thought he must have been exposed to some local substance, maybe something carried in by the girls, or maybe he followed them out of the base for some reason and then came in contact with it. It could have been anything. You never know what effect an alien plant will have on the human body. Something as simple as the local version of an apple could be as powerful as heroin.

“I was sent to look for the girls, to see if they could give any explanation. But they weren’t where I’d originally found them. They’d gone back to their village.

“They were... they weren’t in heat anymore.”

Glass and Kit, who hadn’t been present for the meeting the day before, exchanged a puzzled look.

“They were pregnant,” Max said.

“Yes.”

“Miller, you stud,” Glass said.

“I’ve met him,” Kit said. “The kids are gonna have cleft chins. Blech.”

“He doesn’t know,” Quinn said quietly. “No one does.

“I went back and started testing his blood, trying to identify the substance. On a hunch I tested the blood we had left over from the girls, too. It was there, and in a much higher concentration. Much higher. So much that it wasn’t possible that it was some recreational thing, or anything the body wasn’t producing itself.

“They didn’t drug him. They are the drug.”

She paused because that seemed like a point where there would be questions, but Max just looked at her with her arms crossed, so she went on,

“It’s pheromones gone haywire. When they go into heat their body starts producing a special hormone, on a level hundreds times what would be normal for us. It doesn’t affect the people here any more than it should because they evolved along with it. But our men... it’s like a drug more powerful than anything we’ve got back home. The sexual area of the brain goes into overdrive and everything else shuts down. After a few minutes with them—” she nodded at Glass—“he literally won’t be able to think.”

Kit looked at Glass. “So, being around pretty girls makes you stupid. I’ve got ten possible jokes about that; the first six are obvious, the last few take a little trip before getting there.”

“It was only the men though. Female pheromones don’t affect women in the same way, obviously. Or they shouldn’t.”

Glass and Kit tossed each other another look. This one was more of a lob. Glass cleared his throat.

“Out of curiosity, how many women have you tested this on?”

“Well, there was me and Ginny at Captain Havard’s outpost, then Dana and Max here. We’ve only been here a week.”

“Four.”

“Yes, four.”

“I don’t suppose it occurred to you to do a sexual preferences poll,” he said.

Quinn opened her mouth and closed it. She looked small, lost, her cheeks puffy, her hair mussed from being carried around while unconscious by feral catgirls. It was not her day.

“Dana’s gay?”

“Kinda.”

“I guess that would make sense.” Her voice was distant with the weariness of after adrenaline. She stared at her knees with her eyes open a little too wide.

“You guess,” Max growled. “What in the hell were you thinking, hiding this?”

“It wasn’t going to be forever... just until someone else found out on their own... they didn’t need to know about the pregnancy, it’s not relevant to anything—”

“Those aren’t reasons. Why didn’t you say something?”

“I think I can guess,” Kit said. Throughout the story, while the others were looking either confused or angry, she’d been watching Quinn with a kind of pity. She liked her sergeant but Max could be dense, and Glass was useless for these matters.

She bent down and looked Quinn in the eyes. “You and Miller have something going, don’t you.”

Quinn glared at her with the alternating pleading and angry eyes of a trapped animal. A blush flashed across her face: her fair skin was better than a lie detector.

“They would have sent him home!“ she cried. “Or worse, made him stay here and pay child support! I’d have step-kids before I had kid-kids! It wasn’t his fault!”

Max straightened up and sighed. Glass and Kit turned and, by some unspoken agreement, went to gather supplies. They had the information they needed and whatever happened to Quinn wasn’t their business anymore.

“Get Captain Havard on the radio and tell him everything you just told me,” Max said. “If he’s busy tell them it’s an emergency. If he’s sleeping wake him up.”

Quinn winced.

“I need to know what kind of time frame we’re looking at before they leave her sitting in the jungle for some alien god-knows-what to come along and snap up for a free meal. You said they let Miller go after a day?”

“No,” Quinn said miserably. She wiped her nose. “They won’t ever let her go.

“They don’t understand, none of them are able to think rationally right now. It’s like a feedback loop. Dana’s body is reacting to them, and theirs are reacting to hers. Their brains are a soup of sex chemicals, all feeding off of each other. It’s like that with men too, it just ends... you know, quickly. With a woman it won’t end, ever. The only thing you can do is separate them. Or wait until the girls turn 21 and aren’t in heat anymore.”

Ten minutes later the three Marines met outside the rear door of the medical bay. They’d gathered only the basics needed to survive, subdue the girls if necessary, and a space suit for Glass, which he stuffed in his pack crankily and with mumbled protest.

Max lit a cigarette and looked at the barely visible line of green that marked the forest on the horizon.

“I’m surrounded by people who are controlled by their hormones,” she said. She looked Glass and Kit up and down. “You two haven’t been going at it too, have you?”

Kit made a face. ”No.”

“Are you kidding?” Glass said. “She’s tiny. I’d break her in half.” Kit was five foot two.

“I appreciate your concern for my safety.”

“Well, with great power comes great responsibility.”

They began their long trek towards the forest.