The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

There’s More Than One Way to Skin a Traitor – Chapter Three (Integration)

Unaware of what Samantha was being subjected to, Emma had by now confirmed that no one else was following her. The young woman began to jog again, heading directly towards the outpost. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she had seriously miscalculated when she allowed the weapon to repair itself. So far it had done nothing to hinder her, but Emma surmised that it was merely biding its time. After all, she had promised it rich pickings and it might prefer the possibility of “pacifying” an entire outpost, rather than a single soldier.

She had to admit though; this second skin could be incredibly useful. It seemed to enhance her physical abilities, as witnessed by how fast she had been able to move. Something like this could certainly “level the playing field” in their battle against the machines. But, of course, that was only if the technology could somehow be “tamed”. Emma wondered whether the weapon was having similar thoughts of its own, after all, wasn’t its self-professed purpose to tame them all?

Not for the first time that day, the young soldier realised that she had become lost in her thoughts. She really needed to keep her wits about her. “Dressed” as she was, she could not expect an entirely positive reception at the outpost, and of course there was the small matter of the machines to consider. At the moment, Emma knew that she could only rely on herself. That meant that she had to stay focussed, no more flights of fancy.

* * *

Some time later, the silence was broken as the voice spoke again.

“So”, it began, “do you have a plan as to how we can best gain entry to the base?”

“Well, I could just walk right up to the main entrance and ask them to let me in”, Emma suggested sarcastically.

“Hmmm”, the voice pondered, “perhaps. But I think the defenders would probably worry seeing you covered like this”.

Emma couldn’t help but agree, the very same thoughts had been in her own mind and she was still struggling to formulate a plan that would deal with that particular problem. Although she worried that she was becoming somehow dependent on her glossy new skin, the young soldier recognised the need for any advantage she could find.

“So”, she asked cautiously, “is there anyway that we could make you less obvious?”

The voice took its time to answer, and Emma again took this to mean that it was thinking. Then, just as she was about to ask again, the soft voice replied.

“Well, I can be absorbed into your body. It’s not as efficient as this, but it will serve. Of course, that will leave you naked and you might find that almost as difficult to explain”. She definitely didn’t relish the idea of absorbing the strange weapon. Being left naked didn’t seem to be much of an improvement. It might not provoke an immediate response, but any sentries were hardly likely to let something like that pass without comment.

“Nothing else?” she asked, a slight tinge of desperation in her voice.

“Well”, the voice offered, “there is something that might be helpful. But you probably aren’t going to like it”.

Emma didn’t like anything about her current situation. But the very fact that the weapon seemed reluctant to talk about whatever idea it had, made her increasingly nervous. Still, there really didn’t seem to be anything else for it.

“Okay”, the soldier said quietly, “Tell me what your idea is. If it’s dreadful then we can always discount it”.

Silence descended again, and by now the soldier was on the edge of panic. What could be so awful that a weapon wouldn’t want to share it?

“Okay Emma”, the voice said gently, “I am able to alter my form somewhat, but in order to access those functions I would need to have integrated with you”.

Her only outward response was a slight break in her stride. Inside her mind was racing. This was so obviously a trick that it barely warranted thinking about. How could the weapon even think that she would let it bond with her? She had no idea what this “integration” would entail, but it didn’t seem likely that it would be in her best interests.

“I know you are scared”, the voice practically pleaded, “but my promise stands. I will not try to pacify you unless it is what you wish. I do need to integrate with you in order to regain my full functions, but that is all. I need you Emma, and at the moment I think that you need me as well”.

* * *

Emma found that she couldn’t make up her mind. Was this thing trustworthy? It was a weapon, but so far it hadn’t really behaved like one. Could she believe it when it promised not to “pacify” her? Every instinct screamed at her to refuse, but her rational mind kept reminding her that the weapon hadn’t needed “permission” in order to capture Samantha. If it wanted, Emma knew that she too could be almost instantly wrapped inside the weapon’s oily embrace.

Her voice caught as she unconsciously nodded her acquiescence.

“Okay, I don’t want you to pacify me. But, it seems that we need to integrate if this is going to work”.

“Thank you Emma, perhaps you should lie down now”, the soft voice whispered and then everything changed.

* * *

At first it was so gentle that she could almost believe it to be a figment of her imagination. Her second skin seemed to tremble ever so slightly, shifting minutely with each shudder. The sensation grew steadily, becoming more disturbing every moment. What really rattled the young soldier was how pleasant it felt. On some level she just wanted it to continue, even though she knew that this weapon was doing something to her, something total beyond her control.

Still the vibrations increased. Emma had no way of knowing, of course, but soon she was experiencing almost exactly what Samantha had. Ripples of pleasure flowed over her body, lingering over her erogenous zones as the weapon learnt how best to please her. By the time the suit began to climb, cresting her chin and coating her face, Emma was almost lost.

She felt a moment of panic when the suit poured over her eyes, but even this was washed away by the relentless erotic massage. Even after the dark fluid began oozing into her, Emma couldn’t find the will to react. Wonderful sensations seemed to suffuse her entire being and nothing else seemed to matter.

“That’s a Good Girl”, came the voice’s husky whisper, “You are doing so well”.

She moaned softly, still rooted to the spot. At that moment she didn’t care if the weapon had lied. Just to feel this was enough. She had never imagined so much pleasure. Then, unexpectedly, Emma began to experience what felt like tiny shivers of delight. They seemed to roll through her mind, making her cry out. It wasn’t a purely physical pleasure; this was something else. Without understanding, she knew that this was the weapon “integrating” with her.

Emma’s knees buckled and she barely managed to cushion her fall. The darkness seemed warm and comforting. She struggled to respond, knowing that she shouldn’t just let this happen. But her body seemed to rebel against her wishes as it reacted to the suit’s tender ministrations. Warmth seeped gradually into her mind, worming its way between her thoughts.

Emma knew a brief moment of complete bliss. She was lifted up, soaring, only to have her consciousness dashed away completely. It was as though someone had flicked a light switch. The darkness that cocooned her seemed to deepen and then there was nothing. Meanwhile, her body continued to respond, writhing and squirming while the weapon learnt.

* * *

It was some time later that she finally woke. The low sun dazzled her, causing her to blink and flinch away. It took several seconds for her to realise that her eyes were no longer covered. Emma felt surprisingly alert, even energised. She noted, with some relief, that while she had “slept” the suit had returned to its original form. Her face was clear, and the material no longer pressed into her body.

“Welcome back”, the soft voice said.

This time, however, it was different. It was not like hearing someone whisper in your ear. Now the voice seemed to come from inside her own mind, almost like her thoughts. Emma cringed slightly, not really knowing what to make of this new development.

“I know”, the voice told her, “it must be quite overwhelming for you. But rest assured, this will be for the best”.

With that, the glossy black material seemed to shimmer and flicker. Very slowly it shifted and changed. Eventually, Emma appeared to be wearing her combat fatigues once more. Even the texture seemed to alter, perfectly mimicking the original. There were tiny worn patches and smudges of grime and dirt, which added to the authenticity.

She was amazed at the transformation. The weapon hadn’t lied about its abilities, although she found herself wondering if it had truly needed to “integrate” with her in order to achieve this. She couldn’t allow herself to trust this “thing”, no matter how useful it appeared to be. After all, it was relying on her to help the machines to capture another outpost wasn’t it?

For an instant Emma felt something akin to guilt. She knew that she had no intention of helping the machines and yet she had promised to do so. Here she was, dismissing the weapon for being untrustworthy when she was lying for the sake of expediency. So far her keeper had done nothing other than help her, it had kept to its side of their bargain, whereas she was the one planning a betrayal.

Feeling slightly chastened, she sprang nimbly to her feet. After a moment’s pause while she reoriented herself, Emma started walking again. She couldn’t understand why she had felt so guilty, but she was determined to ignore it. She had a job to do and her emotions would only get in the way of that.

* * *

It took several hours for Emma to reach the outskirts of the base. She had not heard any more from her keeper during that time and she was happy for the moment to avoid conversation. It did not occur to the young woman that she had fallen so easily into the habit of thinking of the weapon as her keeper. For the time being, her attention was focussed solely on the precautions she needed to take if she was to reach the base itself.

There was no way to pass undetected. Knowing that any attempts at stealth would be perceived as hostile, Emma decided on the direct approach and hoped that her keeper would be able to avoid detection. Careful to avoid triggering any mines or other booby traps, the soldier walked through the perimeter sensors and then halted after a few meters. The outpost would now be aware of her presence, and hopefully they would be sending someone to collect her.

The seconds crawled by and she found herself wondering whether something was wrong. She imagined the weapons that even now were being trained on her. Emma could feel the tiny beads of sweat as they trickled down her neck. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to remain still. She had important information to pass on and had no wish to stumble, especially now that she was so close.

She sensed them before they appeared, two soldiers stalking forward. They approached from opposite directions, obviously wanting to flank her, in case this was the prelude to some attack. Emma tried to avoid glancing in their direction, for some reason she did not want them to know that she had seen them.

When the first soldier rose slowly from behind cover, Emma called out to her.

“Major Davies reporting, I request permission to enter”.

Although the sentry’s weapon was not aimed directly at Emma, it was certainly pointed in her general direction. She had no doubt that the second woman would have her clearly in her sights. Once again Emma had to force herself to remain calm. It was only natural that they were suspicious; it didn’t mean that they knew anything about what had happened. This was only natural caution. Of course, it meant that she would have to proceed very softly indeed.

“Keep your hands where I can see them”, the sentry commanded.

Very carefully Emma raised her hands, making sure that the other woman could see that she was unarmed. She fought the impulse to check what the second sentry was doing, instead maintaining eye contact with the one who had spoken.

The woman advanced, and gestured for Emma to turn around. Once she had complied the soldier roughly pulled her arms back, before quickly binding them with plasticuffs. A firm hand shoved her in the small of the back, forcing her to walk forwards.

“Don’t try anything funny”, the sentry ordered.

Briefly she allowed her mind to wander. It would be so easy to deal with these two. The suit, she knew, could make short work of her cuffs. Then it was merely a matter of spraying enough material at the concealed sentry to pacify her. This other soldier would be easy to capture. She was clearly struggling to keep her fear in check and when Emma acted it would push her over the edge.

The soldier smiled grimly; of course she wouldn’t do any of those things. These were her people, and she needed to regain their trust. But her captor’s haughty manner, combined with the stress of the last few hours made it oh so very tempting. Instead she allowed herself to be guided through the defences and into the outpost itself.

* * *

Emma wasn’t sure exactly what sort of reception she had expected. But the sentry’s obvious distrust (and even fear) came as a surprise. Caution was one thing, but these people seemed genuinely to believe she represented some sort of threat. Her imagination ran riot; they knew somehow about the attack, maybe they even knew about her keeper and what she had done to Samantha. But then, shouldn’t they also know that Samantha had been the traitor?

The sentry led her into the bunker, but it quickly became clear that she had no intention of letting Emma talk to anyone in command. Instead she found herself thrown directly into a makeshift cell. Her protests fell on deaf ears, and she was about to consign herself to a long wait and arduous debriefing when she caught the merest glimpse of a familiar face.

Just as the door was slammed shut, Emma saw another woman in the distance. She was obviously trying to avoid being seen, but with her keeper’s assistance she was able to recognise her. What the hell was Melissa doing here? The captive soldier lent heavily against the wall, and tried to fathom what was happening.

Seeing Melissa here meant that at least three soldiers had escaped the assault. Emma had assumed that Samantha must have been the traitor. She hadn’t considered that anyone else might have gotten loose. But what if Samantha hadn’t been the one? Panic warred with horror as the young woman realised that her friend might have been entirely innocent. Maybe she had mistaken Emma for the traitor as well? It was all speculation of course, but with Melissa here it did make a kind of sense.

If that were the case, then Emma would need to do something. Obviously the other soldiers would by now have been poisoned against her. She was sure that Melissa was even now telling them how she had let the machines waltz through the front door. Emma knew that she could not expect any help from her former comrades.

“This cell seems devoid of cameras or other surveillance devices”, the voice announced.

Emma pondered this for a moment. She had been wondering the same thing herself, and for an instant she wasn’t sure if her keeper somehow knew her thoughts. Dismissing the idea as paranoid, she began to look for a way out. She was not entirely surprised when the cuffs seemed to melt away, leaving her arms free again.

“It will be easier this way”, the voice informed her needlessly.

The cell door proved no greater challenge for the keeper, and soon the unlikely pair found themselves in the bunker proper. All that remained was for Emma to somehow convince everyone else that it was Melissa who had betrayed them and not her. Of course, while she was at it, she needed to get this suit off. But for the moment that concern seemed far less pressing.