The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Come on, Trish!” the Inspector shouted from the co-driver’s seat as his colleague steered the car through the narrow downtown streets. “We already have two dead bodies and they won’t run away. So slow down!”

Trish sighed, switched off the siren and mingled with the common traffic. She was new in the homicide squad and still used to pursuits from her time in narcotics. She was the exact opposite of the Inspector—always hyped up, energetic and maybe too little analytic.

But she liked the Inspector very much. Although she had mostly been together with women so far, she somehow had a crush on him since they had first met in the Captain’s office about two weeks ago. Trish turned her head with its thick shoulder-long brown curly hair and smiled at the Inspector perkily.

“So today’s lesson: reservation and calmness are the keys to the highest conviction rate in the county, Inspector?”

“Please, I’ve told you before ... call me Frank,” the Inspector said and smiled back at her. He liked Trish’s open-mindedness and her smartness... and her bright green eyes and the way she presented her athletic body by wearing tight clothes, usually tight jeans, shirt and leather jacket.

“Well, maybe it’s because of that,” he chuckled as Trish stopped the car in front of the entrance. “But it’s always about the little details. Don’t believe everything people tell you, but always let them feel like you would. Gather all the facts, examine the clues ... and you’ll see the picture.”

As Trish and the Inspector entered the entrance hall, a young woman behind a standing desk looked up from her laptop and smiled at them. The officers went straight towards her and the nearer they came the more of her outfit was visible.

She wore a shiny dress (made of thick two-ply silver spandex) that ended in the middle of her thighs and had no arms, but a plunging neckline with turquoise stripes along it and along the arm openings. Apparently, a corset had been sewn into the thick dress and laced up tightly so that the woman had an hourglass-like shape and her already voluptuous breasts were accentuated. To Trish’s amazement, who also had at least a distinctive fondness for tight and shiny clothing, the woman wore a thin turquoise wet-look spandex catsuit underneath the dress. The catsuit covered her whole body from her neck down and ‘IM-03’ had been printed in big silver letters in the middle of the turquoise-clad chest. The woman’s legs ended in high-heeled silver ankle boots and her platinum blonde hair was made up into a bun. All in all, she was properly styled from head to toe and looked absolutely perfect. Not even a single hair seemed to be misplaced.

She looked at the officers with her bright blue eyes, cocked her head and said in a gentle yet spiritless voice, “Hello Sir and Madam. My name is Jenny. I am your information manager IM-zero-three. How can I be of service to you?”

As the woman straightened up her head and resumed her smile, the Inspector showed her his badge. But before he could introduce the two of them, the young woman went on and pointed at the doors behind her.

“Oh, I see. Inspector ... Sergeant. You have been announced by the police department. You’re colleagues are already upstairs. Please take one of the elevators to the top floor, go straight ahead to the—former—CEO’s office. You will be expected there.”

“Uhm, thank you...” Trish said slightly puzzled and walked towards the elevator with the Inspector. Both of them took a quick look back at the spandex-clad woman. While Trish enjoyed the woman’s tight and shiny outfit once again, the Inspector spotted a tiny metallic box with blinking LEDs and a short antenna attached to her neck. The Inspector produced an old-fashioned notepad from his pocket and put his observations down with a pen.

“Strange things are going on here. And I don’t mean that woman’s fancy outfit,” the Inspector said as they left the elevator and went to the big desk in front of the CEO’s office. “And that woman’s either.”

A woman stood next to that desk. She wore a shiny black spandex catsuit with wide orange stripes along its sides. The number 1703 was printed in orange letters on her chest. The suit covered everything but her face. Additionally, she wore tight black rubber boots and black rubber gloves.

Trish tried to introduce the both of them and showed her badge. But the woman didn’t react in the slightest way. She just looked straight ahead and blinked from time to time. So Trish and the Inspector waved their hands in front of the woman’s numb face.

“She won’t answer. That drone is just standing by,” a woman in her late forties, wearing high-class coat and skirt, joined them from the CEO office with a stretched-out hand. “Hello, I am Miss Masters, Melissa Masters, the executive assistant. And you must be here to investigate this tragedy.”

“Yes, we are,” the Inspector said and introduced them properly. Then he frowned. “Uhm, what did you just call her, Ma’am? A drone?”

“Yes, drones are those employees who have volunteered for our work efficiency programme—WEP” the secretary explained while the Inspector took another close look at the drone. She had a tiny metallic box with blinking LEDs in her neck, just like the receptionist.

All the while, Trish looked at the woman’s spandex-clad body. She chuckled as she saw the little bumps produced by her erect nipples in their fight against the tight fabric. “I like your taste in clothing ... or at least the taste of who is responsible for work wear. But the outfit doesn’t make her a drone, does it?”

“Correct. Well, this company is one of the biggest not only in industrial robotization and workflow management but also in cybernetic engineering. We have invented an implant that, once installed in the employee’s neck, links to his or her spine within seconds. Then, a data line or a remote control unit can be plugged in, providing the drone with all the required information and focussing it solely on work tasks,” the assistant went on.

“This drone, for example, is one of our cleaning staff as you can tell by the colours of the outfit. A black suit stands for facility services such as maintenance, security and cleaning, and the orange stripes tell the certain assignment—in this case cleaning duties. I have called 1703 to clean up the office when you are finished.”

“Fascinating,” the Inspector said and took another look at the woman while Trish shook her head, being exited by the tight uniform but also irritated by the brainwashing it came along with. The assistant then led Trish and the Inspector into the office.

This room was—opposite to the modern architecture of the building—quite old-fashioned. It was wood-planked, in one corner there was an oak conference table and in the opposite corner a large antique desk. A blanket had been put over the victim in the large leather chair and another one over the other body on the dark green carpet. Three police officers were measuring the room and taking photographs, a man in a white lab coat looked out of a window. The Inspector first kneeled next to the body on the floor, lifted the blanket and saw the white spandex catsuit.

“Also one of your ‘very focussed employees’?” Trish asked pertly.

“Uhm ... yes,” the assistant cleared her throat. “Drone 2802 was assigned to book keeping and taxes today. I was sitting at my desk when she asked for a quick talk to the CEO. Please understand, there was nothing to suspect when she came here. She was in drone mode and while being in that mode, a drone cannot make a deliberate decision in conflict with the work task ... and ... well, let me show you.”

The assistant left the office and went back to the spandex-clad woman who was still waiting next to her desk.

“There are numerous safeguards to ensure that the WEP technology only works during working hours and only within a limited area. And it is also limited to the work tasks. Office drones are even connected by a cable to keep them at their desk. In case they have to leave their cubicle, they can be provided with a mobile operating software. But that works just for one hour.” Then, she addressed the woman, “1703, re-activate!”

The spandex-clad woman blinked twice, looked at the secretary and said calmly, “How may drone 1703 be of service? Shall drone 1703 commence cleaning now, Ma’am?”

“No, 1703. I want you to take one of the computer monitors on my desk and throw it out of a window,” the assistant ordered and smirked towards Trish and the Inspector.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am, this is not part of my work assignment. Please request assistance by the waste disposal department or utilities management,” the drone explained.

“OK, then hit me in the face and afterwards hit yourself in the face!” the assistant tried another command. But the drone didn’t react. Instead, the spandex-clad body started to shiver.

“Negative. This is ... not part of my working assignment. Breach of ... safety regulations. Immediate shutdown ... required,” the drone said, closed her eyes and as she opened them again, her whole body lost its tension. The woman took a look around in total amazement and cleared her throat.

“Miss Masters? What’s happening? Is my shift already over? This is not the locker room...”

“I was just demonstrating how the WEP safeguards work. There’s nothing to worry about. Please switch back to dr—”

“Stop!” Trish couldn’t help but interrupt and stand between the two women. The employee looked at Trish’s badge, “Yes, Ma’am? Is there really nothing to worry about?”

“I’d just like to know ... Don’t you think that it is awkward to be enslaved by strangers, to have your mind fucked by your employer?” Trish asked harshly.

“Uhm ... it ... it is a safe technology. The idea behind it is to provide the basis for a healthy and efficient work relationship. I’m not distracted, I don’t leave early, I regard all the safety precautions,” the woman said proudly and sounded as if she had learned this from a brochure or video.

“OK, but what do YOU gain from all of this?” Trish didn’t let up.

“Well, working hours are flying by in a sec’. I connect to the system, count from ten backwards and the next second my shift is over and I can go home. And I’m paid a higher salary than a non-drone colleague on the same level. And this suit ...,” the woman said, inhaled excitedly, looked down at her body and started to caress her spandex-clad belly.

But all of a sudden, her smile vanished. She stopped caressing herself and stood at attention. “Drone 1703 re-activated and connected. Drone 1703 ready to obey.”

“OK, that’s enough for now,” the assistant said and put a remote control back on her desk. “I think you aren’t interested in one employee’s opinion but rather in solving this murder case. And I hope that you now understand that it is not possible to order a drone to kill somebody. You’ve just seen for yourself. The technology is safe,” the assistant explained as they went back to the crime scene.

“No, it is not!” the man with the white lab coat interrupted with an inadequately loud voice. He was bald, wiry and wore small reading glasses. He still looked out of the window. In front of the building, a crowd started to gather holding up banners to protest against the company.

“There they are again, right on time, every Monday at 3 p.m. being lead by that braggadocio. All those luddites, just as stubborn as the CEO, not seeing that the world is changing and you can’t stop it,” he mumbled, turned around and shook hands with Trish and the Inspector.

“Dr. Grincher, head of the research division. Well, our late CEO was a commercial dinosaur. I always told him that this WEP technology was good for making quick money, but also prone to sabotage ... as you can see. He always refused to invest more in a new and safe technology, my technology. But ... well, I’m just one of the co-owners. He always had the final say.”

“So what’s your technology then, Doc?” the Inspector asked curiously and pulled out his notepad.

“Uhm ... I can’t go into every detail as I’m working together with the Department of Corrections and the Ministry of the Interior. We’re looking for a way to turn prisoners on death row into more permanent drones so that they can somehow make up to society.”

“Yes, gratis workers for the industry, zombies picking up garbage in the parks or serving as sex dolls or cannon fodder. I’m so disgusted by you and your so-called research!” the assistant shouted.

“OK ... forget it! My time’s too precious to be further wasted around here. If you have any questions, please make an appointment,” Dr. Grincher snapped and produced a business card from his pocket.

“Please Sir,” the Inspector tried to calm the situation. “If you could be so kind and answer just one further question. We’re just trying to tie up some loose ends, here.”

“OK, but quick ... Inspector! And for further questions, tell your secretary to call my secretary,” the man said and held the business card towards Trish who snatched it away from him grinding her teeth.

“Is it possible to change a drone’s programming ... give him or her another work task—whatever that might be?”

“We don’t have any killer drones around here if that’s what you mean. As I said, my time’s too precious for stuff like that,” the scientist just sighed quite bored and left the office.

“And who are those people out there? And who’s the ‘braggadocio’ he mentioned?” Trish asked after she had looked out of the window.

“A total geek, fellow student and former colleague of Dr. Grincher,” Miss Masters chuckled. “After an accident and a lawsuit against us, he founded a group of computer nerds who love to hack into companies’ computer systems to denounce their vulnerability. But we are a very hard nut to crack because the drones are linked only to the WEP system and the system is not connected to the Internet. So you can’t hack into it from the outside.”

“So it’s just revenge or what are they up to then?” Trish dug deeper poring over something.

“Oh, just cheap propaganda. He’s found some docile squallers in those protestors who refuse our WEP and our research. It’s the guy in the wheelchair carrying a laptop that’s switched on 24/7.”

“Thank you, Ma’am. Uhm, do you know what the Doc meant with being ‘just the co-owner’?” the Inspector now asked and then smirked. “I’m sorry, but I have to ask ... it’s because of my Captain. He’s breathing down my neck and wants all those little details in my report.”

“No problem, Inspector. The late CEO held 51 percent of this company, Dr. Grincher holds 20 percent and the rest is held by a pool of executive employees. So basically, the Doctor couldn’t make a strategic decision without the CEO in the past ... and now not without Lilly and Laura.”

“Lilly and Laura?” the Inspector asked and put the names down.

“Oh, excuse me,” the assistant said. “The CEO had two daughters. Laura, the older one, was anyway supposed to be his successor. She’s studying in Japan at the moment. I have already informed her and she will take the next available flight.”

“And Lilly, well,” the assistant sighed. “Lilly is the younger one. She had some difficulties when her mother passed away three years ago. She’s a regular employee. She will inherit 20 percent of the company and I presume that she will sign her shares over to Laura directly after the reading of the will. She asked to take the rest of the day off.”

“OK ... we’ll get to Laura when she arrives. Maybe we should ask our Japanese colleagues to escort her to the airport. And we have to keep an eye on Lilly first,” Trish recommended worrying that the person behind all this might also be after the CEO’s offspring.

“Yes, that’s correct,” the Inspector said. “Please call Sergeant Miller. He shall call Japan. And tell him to keep Lilly’s residence under tight surveillance. Tomorrow morning you will take over. Stay with her until I join you. OK?”

Trish nodded, got her cell phone out of the hip pocket of her tight jeans and left the office.

“If I may suggest something, Inspector,” the assistant said. “The division in which Lilly will resume work tomorrow is quite clear and uniform. Your colleague will instantly attract attention. I could assign an employee number to her so that she can follow Lilly without losing track. She would just have to dress like the others and act like being at work.”

“Excellent idea, Ma’am,” the Inspector said gladly and initiated Trish in that plan as she returned. Trish was a bit reserved for a second but then she agreed thinking that this kind of undercover job would be quite exciting—especially as it required wearing one of those tight spandex suits as camouflage.

The Inspector and Trish then said goodbye and went towards the elevator. But after some paces, the Inspector suddenly turned around and went back to the secretary.

“Just one more thing, Ma’am. I’m not really into these computer things. But don’t you record everything your drones do ... like a browser history? Do you have access to that? I mean, now that we’re here ... and, well I want to keep this as quiet as possible and not necessarily involve your IT or HR guys ...”

“Oh ... yes, certainly,” Miss Masters said and went to her desk. She entered a password and typed, scrolled through various windows on the screen, but finally sighed and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Inspector. The log file ends with 2802 finishing her first task for customer 0919-2027.”

“Don’t worry, Ma’am,” the inspector said and put his right index finger over his mouth and the tip of his nose to think about that.

“Aren’t there any backups? Don’t you store this data on different volumes?” Trish interrupted the Inspector’s thoughts.

“Well, I went through all of our servers ... but yes, there is indeed another data carrier.”

“OK?” Trish asked impatiently. “Why don’t you just have a look at those files then? Let me guess... They’re on the CEO’s computer and you don’t have the required security clearance? Above your pay grade?”

“No, it’s not because of that. I’m head of IT security after all. No ... it’s because 2802 destroyed those files as she put a bullet in her head. The implant uses inactive parts of the brain to store a minor amount of data there so that it is possible to reconstruct about one hour. But not if there is no brain left...,” the assistant explained and sighed.