The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

IV.1. — Prison

Trish rolled her eyes as she sat in the visiting room and waited for Jenny. Then, the door opened and Jenny was led into the room by two drone officers. She was now dressed in a skin-tight orange latex catsuit with big black letters DOC (Department of Corrections) on the back and front. The suit’s arms even covered Jenny’s hands and ended in thick rubber straps so that the suit was also a straightjacket. Her prisoner number was imprinted in black on both upper arms.

“Well, it seems like you’ve already received the only suit you will be wearing the next ten years,” Trish scoffed as Jenny was seated on the other side of the table and the straps were latched to the chair. The drone officers waited behind Jenny staring straight ahead.

“Five years, my love! I opted for the re-education programme. But don’t you like the suit? Because I thought you were a rubber girl yourself ... a rubber doll ... MY rubber doll,” Jenny smiled at Trish with a mixture of admiration and superiority and swayed her shiny body. “But forget about those five years, too. We’ll be back together very soon, as I promised you when you became a Mastersbot. Just wait for me another bit, will you?”

“Your doll? Uhm, as you know ... that’s not part of my job description. So ... no, I won’t wait for you. But let me explain what’s waiting for you. Re-education. Your outfit will be completed, you will be brought to the maximum security prison and there you’ll be isolated and ... well, let’s face it ... reprogrammed! You can thank Grincher and Masters for that ... they sold another perversion of this WEP bullshit to the DoC about a year ago,” Trish smiled back at her and leaned forward. Her leather jacket creaked as it slid over her latex skin.

“Hmmmm...” Jenny moaned, rubbed her thighs against each other and inhaled deeply, “somehow it makes me really horny when you’re angry ... and when I see your new latex robot body. It’s really an improvement and I will enjoy it when we meet again,” Jenny purred and her eyes rode along Trish’s curves that were partially covered by her fitted leather jacket but also emphasized by her emulated black wet-look jeans and dark-green rubber top.

“Still not gonna happen, Jenny! In the beginning we had a nice time together. But I have 99,4% of my memories back and can never forgive you for what you’ve done to me.”

“Don’t sweat it, my love! That will be the slightest problem. Memories are just data, your mind is just programmable text. We’ll fix that in no time when I’m back.”

“Oh shut up! Why am I here anyway? Better tell me why you made a confession? Did someone pay you for that?” Trish hissed back.

“I just wanted to see you. And I wanted to spare you witness stand. Because I love you!” Jenny screamed with sparkling eyes and tried to leap forward to kiss Trish. But the straps and the drone officers held her in her chair.

“I think we’re done here, officers. Goodbye, Jenny!” Trish said and left the room.

Jenny yelled after her but was already brought to another room where her head was shaved and the outfit was completed with an orange latex mask leaving only her nostrils open and a thick metal collar that locked in place in Jenny’s neck implant. Her arms were put crosswise under her breasts and the straps were locked behind her back.

Some minutes later, Jenny was led to an armoured van and put in the cargo area on a metal chair. Her metal collar was screwed to the backrest and her ankles were put into solid metal cuffs attached to the chair. Then, a long metal needle was put through the chair’s headrest, the metal collar and into Jenny’s neck implant. As the system connected to her, her body jerked and one could hear a short muffled scream from under the mask. But a second later, Jenny just sighed, relaxed and remained absolutely motionless.

“I’m not fond at all of imposed mind control. But now she gets what she deserves,” Trish sighed and looked at the stiff shiny orange prisoner inside the van. The Inspector hugged her as the doors were closed.

“Wait a second!” Trish then said and went to the van’s crew consisting of three (apparently non-drone) correctional officers. She turned their shirt collars down and then asked them to open the top three shirt buttons. Finally, she thanked them and returned to the Inspector.

“Just wanted to make sure that they’re no drones. But there are no controllers and no spandex suits,” Trish explained as they went to their car. “I’m just careful.”

“I know, Trish. But you can rely on the DoC. They don’t want to lose a convicted felon, either,” the Inspector smiled and both cars left the compound.

“I just hope that this is now ending ... that we can have a halfway normal life, just the two of us, Frank. I still hope that these missing cases don’t have anything to do with the WEP, Dr. Grincher, that strange company...” Trish sighed. But then, she focussed on something that appeared in the middle of the street in front of the van. “Fuck! Frank ... Stop!”

It was too late for the van in front of them. It had to make an evasion manoeuvre and spun round with squealing tires. However, the already unstable van hit the thing so that it ricocheted, fell over and slid along the street on its left side. The Inspector slammed on the brakes and turned the car over so that Trish’s door faced the sliding van. Before their car came to a halt, Trish had already opened her door and jumped out of it. Provided with the kinetic energy of the sliding car, she curled up and wheeled towards the van. After some metres, she uncurled and jumped up in the air. She put off her leather jacket and gun holster and flattened her chest to get rid of everything that could disturb her in a fight. As she landed on the fallen van with a loud thump and debris being tossed in the air, she looked at the thing in front of her and was flabbergasted.

A policebot knelt on the van’s side, repeatedly rammed its right fist through the van’s armoured body and pulled it open stripe by stripe. Trish screamed out loud and jumped towards the policebot. But the bot just grabbed her with its other hand at her neck and held her like a fish fidgeting on an angler’s hook. Then, it swung her around effortlessly and threw her through the armoured passenger’s window. Trish landed headlong on the two officers in the cab.

“Sorry!” she moaned towards the unconscious men and wiped pieces of glass and drops of her silver blood out of her face. Then, she pushed against the dashboard and the seats with her arms and catapulted herself out of the van. As she jumped on its side again, the policebot had already gained access and threw the third officer out of the van. Trish jumped through the hole into the van and tried to grab the policebot. But instead, the bot grabbed Trish again at her neck and flung her several times against the van’s roof so that bulges could be seen from the outside.

“Trish! Trish! I’ve called reinforcements!” the Inspector shouted from their car and ran towards the van. The policebot had already climbed out of it with Jenny’s shiny orange and unconscious body in its left arm. Trish jumped out of the van as well and landed about two metres in front of the policebot blocking its escape way.

“Freeze!” she and the Inspector shouted and the Inspector tossed Trish’s gun holster towards her. She caught it, pulled the gun out and pointed it at one of the bot’s few vulnerable spots. But the policebot just ignored her.

“Shoot, Trish! Don’t let it get away!” the Inspector shouted.

“I ... I can’t!” Trish screamed and hesitated. Her gun dropped to the floor. And so the policebot again grabbed puzzled Trish at her neck, threw her back into the van and it continued its escape.

“Trish! Noooo!” the Inspector shouted and leaped forward to catch her gun as he usually didn’t carry one himself. But before he could open fire, the policebot stopped, turned around and hit the Inspector so that he was thrown back against the van. He hit his head against the rear axle and sank down on the ground.

In that moment, police cars arrived at the scene. The officers attended the Inspector and the unconscious crew. With his last strength, the Inspector looked at one of his colleagues, “My partner ... What about her? She’s ... she’s inside the van!”

“No, I’m here,” Trish just said and kneeled down next to him. She panted heavily and looked terrible. Her hair was a mess, the skin in her face had been cut by the window glass, silver operating liquid dripped from her face and her body. Her ‘clothing’ was also torn into pieces and she even spit some loose teeth out of her mouth.

“I don’t know what its problem was ... being a policebot after all. But my problem was ... uhm ... that some of my functions are limited ... even in an emergency like this. Normally ... argh ... I could have stopped it,” Trish moaned and stood up.

“Trish! How ... are you?” the Inspector coughed and then fainted. Even the approaching paramedic only looked at Trish and ran towards her.

But Trish just shook her body, inhaled deeply and concentrated. To everyone’s surprise, her body healed within seconds, her ‘clothing’ grew back together and she wiped ‘blood’ and debris out of her face and hair. She then looked at her chest and let her breasts grow back to their original size. After she had checked with her tongue that the teeth had also grown back, she walked to her jacket, put it on and re-arranged her hair to a ponytail.

“At least my self-protection systems are working,” she mumbled as she picked up her gun and came back towards the men who were all looking at her with dropped jaws. “Hey, come on! Stop staring and take care of my partner! Can’t you see that he’s hurt?!”

IV.2. — Company

Fifteen minutes later, Trish’s car stopped with squealing tires in front of the company’s headquarters where she and the Inspector had investigated the murder case a couple of months ago. Trish grabbed the cycling suit she had bought the day before, jumped out of the car and went through the main entrance.

“Hello Madam. My name is Katie. I am your information manager IM-zero-three. How can I be of service to you?” the platinum-blonde girl at the reception said to Trish in the known gentle yet spiritless way. Trish stopped for a second and saw that Jenny’s replacement wore a slightly modified uniform consisting now not of a turquoise spandex catsuit with an additional silver dress but only of a turquoise wet-look catsuit with big rectangular silver elements on chest, back and legs, a built-in corset and the IM-03 imprint. The high-heeled silver ankle boots had been replaced with moderately heeled silver ankle-boots. Her platinum-blonde hair was also put into a strict bun so that the controller in her neck with the tiny antenna was clearly visible.

“Oh, not one of you again! I need to talk to Laura ... your boss. Now, please!” Trish said as friendly as possible and showed her badge.

“Yes, Madam. Please let me see if the CEO is available,” Katie/IM-03 said gently and grabbed the phone.

“Never mind. I know where I can find her,” Trish just hissed and went to the elevator ignoring the protesting drone. She did not want to be here as this was the place where she—or at least her old life—had died. But she had this feeling and couldn’t let go. She couldn’t help thinking that the recent events must have their source here, too.

The elevator doors opened and Trish went quickly towards the CEO office. But as she wanted to open the double door, two male drones in black spandex suits, heavy boots and with batons and handcuffs at their belts stepped in her way. They were joined by a young redhead wearing an outfit that had become men’s and women’s standard office work wear: high-heeled footwear or ankle-high canvas sneakers or boots, skin-tight (plain or patterned) spandex/PVC/latex leggings, tank top (women) or polo shirt (men) made from spandex or artificial silk and a (normally matt or semi-matt) fitted blazer matching the pants’ style and colour. In this case, the young woman—obviously Miss Masters’ replacement—wore shiny dark-blue and dark-green tartan spandex leggings, a dark-blue tank top, a dark-green fitted blazer and black ankle-boots. She looked at Trish reproachfully and folded her arms underneath her tightly wrapped breasts signalling Trish that she was the one who decided who was to enter that office.

“Let me pass! I’m in no mood for this!” Trish shouted and showed her badge. As they still refused, she exhaled deeply, nodded while pressing her lips together, put her badge away and clenched her fists.

“What’s going on here?” Laura shouted and opened the door. The tall brunette wore dark-rimmed glasses, high-heels, a grey business skirt and a shiny burgundy high-necked shirt with short sleeves that accentuated her round breasts perfectly.

“IM-03 wanted to call you, Madam, and announce the Sergeant. But she did not wait although IM-03 asked her to,” the redhead said like a pupil snitching on another in front of their teacher.

“OK, OK ... everything’s fine. You can all go back to your stations. I will handle this,” Laura said and let Trish enter the office. Trish followed her to her desk and smirked because zipper in Laura’s back gave away that she wore not a tight spandex shirt but fact a spandex body. Then, she also spotted a skin-coloured band-aid in Laura’s neck.

“Well, Sergeant O’Cully ... Trish, right? To what do I owe the honour?” Laura asked and put a matching grey business blazer on.

“This! And don’t pretend you don’t know it!” Trish threw the cycling suit on the table. Laura picked it up, looked at it and frowned.

“Well, this is surely not one of ours.”

“Several people are missing and most of them wore black spandex suits as they disappeared. And one of those suits was one just like this!”

“And?”

“Oh, just touch the silver lining. I’m sure it will ring a bell! It’s some kind of that lining that all your drones are wearing ... to make them addicted to the suit. But this silver thing is way stronger. Your company has developed that fabric ... and still uses it ... and ... and now, Jenny, the former IM-03, has been freed from a prison transport today ... by a mislead policebot. A policebot! Also invented and created here! So that’s why I’m here! Uhm ... where’s Grincher?! This time he’s behind all of this!” Trish talked herself into a frenzy and just blabbered out whatever went through her mind. Finally, she started to cry recalling what had happened half an hour ago.

“Oh, Sergeant ... please sit down and let me explain,” Laura sighed and tried to soothe Trish.

“Sorry, it’s already OK again. It’s just because the policebot hurt my partner who is not just my colleague, but my actual partner. I wanted to help him but somehow couldn’t. He ... he lives but he’s unconscious.”

“I see ... and I’m very sorry. But this has nothing to do with this company. We don’t use this prism logo. Dr. Grincher isn’t working here anymore. And we use our spandex suits just for the WEP ... well at least until today.”

“What?!” Trish shouted and wiped the tears out of her face.

“After Melissa’s arrest we fulfilled our contract with the police department, of course. But then, I had to make a deal with Dr. Grincher. He wanted to leave all of a sudden. And so I bought his shares, kept the WEP and fabric patents but gave him all the patents considering his robot research, even the maintenance contracts with the police department,” Laura explained as they went through a corridor and entered a lab.

The room was filled with electronic devices, computers and monitors. In the middle there was a big table with half a dozen pieces of white spandex clothing on it. A naked woman stood behind the table. But this didn’t surprise Trish as much as the person standing next to the naked woman wearing a white lab coat over a white latex catsuit.

“Lilly?! You? Here?” Trish asked sceptically.

“Yes, Lilly is my new head of research and development. I promised her that I had great things planned for my little sister ... and so the company made up to her for all the things she had been exposed to,” Laura said, went to Lilly and stroke her back.

“But ... don’t get me wrong here ... you were just a drone, an unskilled call-centre agent. And now ... head of research and development?” Trish frowned.

“Yes. Well, Nora had already given notice and taken her job with the police when I was able to show her that I was back not only in person but with my personality and memories ... and still loving her,” Lilly explained, “And so she helped to fix and improve me. All of her know-how was copied to my memory. I also received data comparable with a medical degree in neurology. And so I could replace both Nora and Dr. Grincher.”

“And what about her? Will she be turned into a robot, too?” Trish asked and looked at the naked woman who winced hearing that.

“No, don’t worry, Sarah. We don’t make robots around here anymore,” Laura tried to soothe her and then looked back at Trish, “We have in fact changed the direction of our economic activities. We don’t have our own drones anymore. Well, except those security drones and the ones in our administration. But there is no call-centre anymore. This building is mostly vacant now. We just sell the WEP to employers. My father was in fact a commercial dinosaur. He always wanted to have own employees. But just selling the technology is far more efficient.”

“Uhm ... OK, but why did you take me here, to this lab? Just to meet Lilly?” Trish asked impatiently.

“Oh, you came up with the mislead policebot and that cycling suit. We haven’t sold any technology to that PRISM company and the policebots are not of our business anymore. I can only imagine that Dr. Grincher still has access to the bots and that he stole our fabric research, somehow managed to develop his own improved version and has put some first pieces it on the market secretly ... for illegal testing. Because that black cycling suit isn’t from here ... yes, we invented that mind-controlling fabric and we decided to diversify our portfolio ... but we haven’t yet perfected the new fabric to bring it onto the market,” Laura said and looked at the white spandex suits on the table.

“Until now!” Lilly went on. “Sarah has volunteered as a test person and ... I can’t tell you more right now, but now the technology works. We have scheduled a press conference for this afternoon to present it to the public.”

“And this research is top secret until then. So I think we have answered all of your questions for now,” Laura politely asked Trish to leave them alone and Lilly handed a white suit over to Sarah who started putting it on.

“Oh, not yet. Sorry. Where can I find Dr. Grincher?!”

“I haven’t really heard of him ever since.”

“And what about his assistant ... this Becky ... Rebecca? Might she know where to find him?”

“I don’t know either. She gave notice as well and went with him. All right, so that’s everything I can tell you now,” Laura said and pointed at the door. Trish nodded broodily, thanked them and left the lab. Lilly and Laura watched Trish leave the lab and then looked back at Sarah.

“Oh, just one more thing!” Trish then said and returned to the lab with one hand around her chin and the other one raised into the air, “Why do you have a band-aid in your neck? To cover an implant?”

“No, Trish,” Laura chuckled, “not at all. The band-aid contains a small electronic device that protects me from being put under control by a Bluetooth controller, an implant or even a fabric like this one. We had to make a deal with the mayor’s administration to develop a safeguard like that in order to get some, but still insufficient, licences for our products. And why not use it for myself—as protection. So don’t worry, I’m not a drone!”

At that moment, Sarah closed the suit’s front zipper. Her body shivered for a moment and she couldn’t help but let her fingers slide over her flat belly and her firm little breasts. She panted for air as the fabric started to stimulate her. But then, without a controller being put into her neck, her body jerked, she stood at attention and looked straight ahead.

Trish’s jaw dropped as her assumptions that they now had to face implant-less mind-controlling suits—the black ones being developed by Grincher simultaneously—were confirmed. Laura cleared her throat, grabbed Trish by her arm and dragged her out of the lab.

“I’m sorry, Trish! As we said, this is top secret. And I really haven’t heard of Dr. Grincher ever since,” Laura said and accompanied Trish towards the entrance hall where both women shook hands.

“I’m really sorry. If you need further information, IM-03 will assist you,” Laura said and left.

“Hello, Madam. My name is Katie. How can I be of...”

“OK, it’s all right ... uhm, could you just give me a list of your WEP customers?” Trish interrupted her, leaned to a column and sighed.

IV.3. — Cache

Half an hour later, Dr. Grincher stood behind the mirrored window and looked at a man and a woman being delivered in black spandex catsuits, hosed down and analyzed. He had set the system on automatic so that it decided which one of the three doors they had to take. Dr. Grincher smiled boredly, but then an LED in his neck controller started to blink. He instantly stood at attention and walked to his desk, sat down and looked at the screen in front of him.

“Drone S1 online and ready,” he said calmly and looked at the person on the screen who sat behind a big desk in an office. It was the Syndicate’s boss who always sat in the semidarkness. He wore a pinstripe business suit and a greyish anatomic latex mask so that his face was never visible. He somehow looked like Fantomas, the criminal mastermind from the French movie series of the 1960’s.

“Status Report, S1!” the massive man ordered with his hoarse deep voice.

“Project ‘Assimilation & Transformation’ started Saturday morning. Until now, eleven specimen have been acquired, assimilation rate 100%. One has been made SUE-Bot-1, sent back, provided with instructions. It started Project ‘Emergency’ successfully. Ten specimen have been put into storage, waiting for their assignments. One driver has proven to be unreliable and had to be made a drone. S1 requesting dronification of all non-drone personnel as a precaution.”

“Yes, do it. The safer the better,” the boss just said. “What about ensuring the secrecy of our methods of acquisition?”

“Social media accounts are erased, contracts are terminated as planned. Acquisition of blank_f-01-000-001 and blank_m-01-000-001 has been witnessed. One witness underwent brainwashing and was then assimilated as well. The other witness was taken care of by providing WEP to her employer and dronifying her as the first one. Acquisition of SUE-1 was also witnessed, but SUE-1 cleared the situation on its own.”

“Well, well...” the boss inhaled deeply and then shouted as much as his thick latex mask allowed, “and why is the police still investigating these assimilations? I ordered you not to leave any traces! We made sure that the system only picks specimen that have no or only few relatives and friends. And I told you not to have them wear the suits while they can be seen. And then that granny ... this operation is thoroughly planned and fully digitalized and then we are witnessed by an old woman having nothing else to do than to watch what’s happening in front of her house?! Why didn’t you take care of her before she could call the police?! You are a disappointment, S1! Where is 820?”

“820 is in an external meeting. She will return in two hours and fifty-two minutes, Sir.”

“All right! Continue your duties, S1. And when 820 returns, she will take over command! I demand full concentration! The slovenly life you had been granted at Laura’s firm is over! The next phase of Project Emergency is about to begin and I won’t tolerate any further mistakes,” the boss ordered and ended the connection.

He then looked at the woman in a business costume sitting next to the desk. It was Jenny’s lawyer, “I only hope that the court session and the extraction of you client will pay out. The Syndicate grants you quite a fortune, Madam Lawyer!”

“Yes, Sir!” she smiled strainedly. She was a tough lawyer but in front of that man and his ominous behaviour, she always felt uncomfortable. Especially that mask scared her. “Jenny confessed completely. No evidence was heard, no information went out. And her escape was a success, too. Everything happened in the planned chronology. Until now Project Emergency, on my end, is running like clockwork, Sir.”

“I know what happened. I only hope ... for you ... that your client will fulfil her next share of our deal,” the boss just said and waived one hand to signal the lawyer to leave him alone. The woman just nodded, stood up and left the room in relief.

IV.4. — Top Floor

“Wow, what a view!” Rebecca/820 exclaimed in amazement as she entered a big office on the top floor of a skyscraper. She who wore a dark-brown tight-fitting dress and a matching blazer with black lapels and collar. Whereas the blazer was the usual business style, the high-necked dress was made of quite shiny spandex and had a black two inch stand-up collar. At her legs she wore black pantyhose/stockings and black, moderately plateaued pumps.

Rebecca went to the opposite wall that consisted only of windows and looked at the other buildings and the city centre underneath. She straightened her dress, then fingered her long blonde ponytail with both hands and smiled.

“Wow again!” she turned back towards the middle-aged man in a dark business suit who had followed her into the room. “I’m finally meeting Lev Erage, CEO of not only the biggest employer in this city but also the biggest producer of computers and microchips in this country. And I must say, you have quite some security precautions up here. I was not allowed to bring any electronic devices to this office except the controller in my neck. So thanks again for letting me have my presentation during lunch, Mr. Erage.”

“You’re welcome, Rebecca. In fact, I thank YOU for your very informative presentation on your WEP. And I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but we can’t be careful enough fearing to be bought out or spied out these days,” the CEO said and went across the spacious office to his desk. “But now tell me again why I should make another major investment with your company? We have already spent so much on digitalization and perfecting our work flows ... our employees are happy, they are productive, we’re making a load of money.”

“Well, Mr. Erage, I wouldn’t be that big of an investment. You could actually become part of the biggest and most radical business operation of the last 50 years. You would just have to buy our WEP technology, which we would sell just at cost, and apply it to your staff.”

“So where’s the catch in that? What would you gain from that?”

“There is no catch, at least not for you. And dronifying your employees is just a cornerstone. In the medium run, we’d like to achieve a partnership with your company to develop new consumer electronics and conquer the markets. And in the long run, it’s about universal power and control,” Rebecca turned around and unreeled her prepared answers with quite an alluring voice.

“But the electronics market is saturated. Everything comes from a handful of companies in China, Korea or Japan. I know that very well as they buy many of their components from us. You won’t gain a foothold in that market.”

“Oh yes, we will. Because the fertile ground for that is already there, provided by two of mankind’s greatest weaknesses ... laziness and herd-like behaviour. People are lazy. They want to improve their lives, have pretty things, have fun ... but they want it the easiest way possible. That’s also why the WEP is so successful: for a WEP drone a work day flies by in just a second—problem solved, happy campers! And in their time off, people let electronics do the work without thinking: satnavs guide them on the streets, questions are answered by digital assistants in their homes and their phones recording everything that is said, electronic toothbrushes tell them how to brush their teeth correctly and groceries are shopped by their fridges. You name it!”

“OK, I can see that. No wonder we’re selling more microprocessors than ever before. But why herd-like behaviour?” the CEO frowned, sitting in his leather chair and watching Rebecca walking towards him with her big round breasts swaying up and down under the dress’ tight fabric.

“Because once there is a certain trend, people want to be part of it. Just think about the 1970’s: sideburns and flares. In the 1980’s even men had a perm. And about thirty years ago, at the beginning of this century, everybody drove SUVs. All of that was ridiculous—but it was the trend at its time.”

“But we already have a big market research department to discover new trends before they happen.”

“Forget about discovering trends. Create trends! Design the future! Just think about the drones’ work wear. As I laid out to you at lunch, it makes them addicted to it so that they want to wear such clothes even in their time off. And that’s the mother of the numerous trends we want to create—not only for them as WEP employees, but for everyone!”

“But not everyone is a WEP drone or into fashion,” the CEO remarked as Rebecca had walked around the desk and now stood right next to him.

“Yes, but we have already used our influence in agriculture to take care of our fabric’s natural enemies: cotton and wool! Just take a look at the people around you and the clothes they’re wearing by now. And those who are not into that style of clothing will be taken care of as soon as they consume our other products.”

“You want to go viral? I see...”

“Absolutely! Drones set a trend, other people want to follow it, want to consume our products, become addicted to them, set a new trend ... and so forth. Exponential growth. Where can you get that nowadays?! But all of that’s just about controlling work and consumption. We want more! And we offer more. To you!”

“Wow, Rebecca ... I have to admit, you’ve nearly got me there. But again: consumer behaviour can already be steered by our research. And think of the hundreds of influencers the industry has installed to social media. They surely live up to their name.”

“They are NOTHING compared to our technology. Because unlike your research team and influencers we are not just working from the outside. We are inside the people’s minds—literally,” Rebecca just smiled, took her blazer off and went down on her knees. The sleeveless dress had an open back and the stand-up collar was held together by velcro in Rebecca’s neck. The CEO smirked as he realized that there was no bra underneath that dress.

“Oh, Rebecca ... I don’t think that’s appropriate. Although...” he mumbled and then grabbed his pants’ zipper.

“Mr. Erage! No. That’s not part of my job! I just wanted to show you my new neck controller,” Rebecca scoffed and the CEO blushed.

She opened the collar’s velcro and turned around. In her neck, there was a newer, even smaller version of the wireless controller without a visible antenna. There was just a chromed plate of 1 by 1 inch in her neck with LEDs blinking from time to time. “We have stationary controllers, wireless ones limited to preset premises ... and these new controllers working everywhere if there is a wi-fi connection.”

“Oh, I see. Uhm, I’m sorry, Rebecca. I just thought you ... sorry,” he cleared his throat as he looked at her neck and along her bare back and her spandex-clad buttocks.

“No problem, Mr. Erage. The main thing is this,” Rebecca said and stood up. As she reached into her neck to put the collar back together, her breasts pressed firmly against the dress’ fabric. “When I was made a drone, a backup of my mind was saved and is updated regularly. Officially, it’s just a precaution. But in practice we have access to a drone’s whole identity. And it’s not really that different with consumers: when somebody wants to use our products, he or she has to log in using a social media profile. And as you know, most people put their whole identity online nowadays without caring about privacy protection as long as they can ‘express their identity’, get a ‘like’ from someone they don’t actually know or can make everyday things easier for themselves.”

The CEO frowned—not only because of Rebecca’s explanation but also because he couldn’t take his eyes off her body’s feline movements clad in that shiny spandex dress as she leaned against his desk.

“So in a nutshell: with your company joining us, we will soon have almost the entire workforce in this city under direct control. Maybe in a year, it’ll be the major part of this nation’s workforce. Same goes for the consumers. And everyone of them will have collected and given their utmost personal data to us. And we can even alter that data. Our algorithms are already analysing millions of identity profiles to create trends, to steer consumer behaviour ... to influence elections! And in just a few years, we can use all that to create a government acting just in our interest ... and in yours!” Rebecca ended her pitch and looked at the CEO appellatively.

“Wow! Well, uhm ... that sounds like quite a big project. And it sounds quite illegal!” the CEO straightened up and shook his head, “And I knew the man who put the WEP on the market and I know his daughter, Laura. She owns the patents, not you. It was really nice having lunch with you, Rebecca, but you and your boss are not entitled to sell this technology. I have in fact already informed my head of security on our way up here. He’ll be here any minute. So please sit down, Rebecca!”

“Oh...” Rebecca inhaled deeply and her body shivered for a second as her neck controller received updated commands. She then exhaled, opened her pony tail and sat down on the CEO’s left thigh. The lower end of her dress rode up and one could see that she wore stockings underneath. “Oh, just call me Becky, Mr. Erage!”

“What? Oh, Becky. This is nothing personal, but...” the CEO stuttered as she put her chest out, winked at him and started to unbutton his shirt.

“Well, I’m just a drone and I just carry out my boss’ orders. So don’t punish me for that,” Becky said to him with wide eyes and finally unbuttoned his pants.

“Yes. I can fully understand that. And yes, maybe ... uhm ... maybe I could put in a good word for you ... if the two of us can reach an agreement,” he chuckled and let her carry on.

Becky then grabbed his cock and started stroking it gently. The CEO leaned his head back, stroke Becky’s ass cheeks and enjoyed the hand-job. She wouldn’t be the first one who saved her neck by pleasuring him. He even locked the office doors by pressing a button on his desk so that they wouldn’t be disturbed before Becky had fulfilled what she seemed to offer. Becky now moaned out loud and stroke his cock faster and faster. She even pulled his shirt down, stroke his naked upper body and sucked his nipples. The CEO moaned as well and was already about to come.

“Well, Mr. Erage. Fortunately for you I’ve not come here wearing any underwear at all,” Becky giggled, turned towards him, kneeled on the chair and slowly lowered her pelvis so that his erect member was welcomed by her pussy’s warm moistness.

“Oh yesssss! Very fortunate!” the CEO hissed as Becky moved slowly back and forth with his member deep inside of her. She smiled at him passionately but as she leaned against his panting chest and opened the velcro in her neck, her smile vanished abruptly.

“But unfortunately, I’ve not come here to beg for an agreement. I’ve come here to give you the chance of accepting our proposal!” she said and stopped her movements. He was totally flabbergasted being only two seconds away from a great orgasm. But Becky just pressed a hidden button in her dress’ collar—so that the dress turned from dark-brown to silver in a blink of an eye—and then opened another velcro that held the dress’ lower back together. She grabbed it, dismounted the CEO and pushed the silver fabric onto his naked upper body.

He gasped for air as it touched his skin. His arousal was increased tenfold by the fabric so that he came instantly without someone touching his cock. His pelvis jerked and a big load of cum was shot in the air and landed on the desk, his lap, Becky’s arms and the fabric on his chest. Finally, he calmed down, his arms slumped off the armrests and he looked straight ahead as if being in a state of shock.

“Sorry, that I forgot to tell you. This is the fourth way of controlling someone. Without an implant. But don’t worry. We’ll take care that right away,” Becky smiled and took a step back. She stood there without a bra or a thong, just wearing her high heels and stockings. She took her shoes off, grabbed one of them and tore the heel apart. She poured a small metallic thing out of it into her hand. It was a neck implant. Then she put her left leg on the chair in front of the CEO’s body to hold the fabric to his skin, pulled him forward, held him in headlock and finally pushed the implant in his neck.

As Becky hit it so that it connected to the CEO’s spine, his body jerked once. Becky then tore her other heel apart, got a small controller like her own out of it and connected it to the CEO’s implant. She then pushed him back into the chair, took her dress off the man’s body, licked his cum off and switched the dress back to dark-brown. While the CEO’s mind was connected to the WEP server and his body lay shivering in the leather chair, Becky put her dress and blazer back on. She took something like a bubblegum out of its pocket, chewed it for a moment and used it to glue the heels back to her shoes so that she could put them back on.

“Drone S21 ready to obey,” the CEO finally said and stood up.

“Very nice! Please get dressed properly, lick your cum off your desk and tell your head of security that everything cleared up,” Becky smiled at him, “and then I’ll explain to you when and how to introduce the WEP and the according dress code to your staff and to sign over your shares to the Syndicate...”

IV.5. — Diner

After her sobering visit to Laura, Trish had asked her colleague Ray to check on some things for her and to meet her in her favourite diner. As she entered the restaurant, she couldn’t believe her eyes. The furniture had been replaced with modern tables and chairs so that the whole atmosphere of the place had gone. It was very clean and stylish now but not at all cosy anymore, rather like a giant fridge with furniture and numerous big TV screens. Trish sighed and went to a table to sit down. But she was intercepted by a tall young blonde woman in a white/green/black spandex and latex outfit like the one Doris had worn the other day.

“Hello, my name is Jill. Do you have a reservation?” she asked friendly while her face remained absolutely neutral. Trish’s jaw dropped, but then she spotted the tiny controller in Jill’s neck.

“It’s OK, Jill. Trish and the Inspector don’t need a reservation!” Doris shouted towards them from the bar. Trish took another look around and detected that all of the four waitresses—except Doris—were actually drones.

“Thanks, Doris,” Trish just said to her and went on while Jill started a discussion with Doris about violating the new reservation-only policy and having to inform the owner about it.

Trish sat down at the table and rolled her eyes witnessing the conversation. She scoffed and thought about helping Doris, but then she spotted the news on one of the big TV screens. It was a live feed from Laura’s press conference that was staged like a product presentation in front of a handpicked audience. Laura entered a stage with her company’s silver logo on a turquoise background. On a round turning pedestal there was a female drone wearing a white spandex suit. The blonde woman looked straight ahead absent-mindedly being controlled by the tiny metallic box with a small antenna in her neck. On Laura’s other side, there was another pedestal. It was empty.

Laura started talking, but the TV had been muted. As Trish was still afraid of connecting to unsafe networks and this wasn’t an actual investigation, she activated her skill of lip-reading and silently said what Laura explained to the press:

“... and you all know our best-selling product ... WEP! It can easily be applied to an employer’s staff and used within a specified range. More and more companies and even smaller businesses are counted among our customers. Sadly, we are experiencing that a copy of our technology has been put on the market recently. So I urge you to buy only the licensed original. Only our WEP technology is secure!” Laura presented the drone on the pedestal.

“But we are also looking forward and have diversified our portfolio. Do you have employees who like to be more efficient but don’t want to have an implant in their neck? Do you just want to try the WEP technology before you install it permanently? Or do you just have few employees so that you shy at the expenditure for the WEP infrastructure? Well then let me present you TEC, our Temporary Efficiency Clothing,” Laura applauded and turned around.

Sarah, the young woman from Lilly’s lab, entered the stage and stood on the empty pedestal. She wore just a silver bikini and smiled at Laura quite shyly. In her right hand, she held a tiny roll of spandex.

“Well, this is Sarah, one of our employees. As you can see, there is no implant in her neck or her body,” Laura chuckled while the pedestal slowly turned. Then Sarah unfolded the roll she held in her hand. It was just a turquoise spandex swimsuit with the company’s silver logo on the front side.

“But this ... is the TEC. Soon you will be able to purchase clothing like this. Clothing that turns your employee into a versatile and fully obedient drone as long as the silver lining touches the skin ... which is also the reason why the TEC has to be body hugging, too. But: no infrastructure, no implants! Every piece of clothing is equipped with a small flash memory that can be programmed beforehand. When the clothing is put on, the programme will execute automatically. So what you so far knew as ‘plug & play’ will soon be ‘dress & obey’! The lining is so strong, only about 25% of a person’s skin have to be covered. You will, of course, get a catsuit or a zentai if you like, but a swimsuit, even a pair of leggings will suffice,” Laura explained and nodded towards Sarah to put the suit on.

As she put her arms through the wide shoulder straps and let the two-ply suit slide over her belly, breast and back, her body jerked. The suit glittered in the bright stage light and aroused Sarah so much that she inhaled deeply and one could see her nipples stiffening—even though she now wore three layers of spandex over her breasts. She continued moaning for a moment and put her hands in her crotch.

“The initial arousal is necessary to make the wearer’s mind adaptive and is also caused by the suit as it draws off a bit of the body’s voltage to function. And be honest, it’s a by-product no one wants to refuse,” Laura explained Sarah’s reaction.

But then, Sarah blinked and all of a sudden, her shyness as well as her arousal vanished within a second. She just stood at attention and looked straight ahead, “Drone TEC-1 ready to obey.”

“This suit has been preset that this drone first stands at attention so that you can program it further by voice control. But you can choose other options or it can even be connected to another device like a remote control or your work scheduling server. It couldn’t be easier,” Laura smiled. The reporters continued making photos and the crowd in front of the stage cheered wildly. Trish just rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“Even the end consumer ... so everyone of you ... can benefit from TEC. Just think of tedious household chores or conquering your weaker self to finally do the workout you need. Just pre-program the suit, put it on and all those things fly by in a second. And soon, we will also be able to provide special apps you can use to slip temporarily into another personality or to overcome deepest reservations to spice up your sex life for example. Or if you have certain unwanted desires, you can just switch them off and lead an unburdened life!” Laura reached her speech’s climax.

“Everything will be possible and life will be better. We just need the Mayor and then parliament to give us the appropriate selling concessions so that we can give TEC to you, this city and the whole nation. So write the Mayor, write your local MP and help us optimizing your life and our society as a whole!” Laura concluded and the crowd applauded.

“When will this ever stop?! The companies are making us their minions...” Trish scoffed and wondered if this was still a product presentation or rather a sect meeting.

“Aren’t we already?” Sergeant Miller interrupted her thoughts and sat down on the other side of the table.

“Oh ... Hi, Ray. So good to see you. Do you have what I asked for?”

“Yes, I searched the commercial registers for Dr. Grincher. After he had left Laura’s company, he by and by became CEO of several companies, mainly producing electronic devices or parts for the private sector, and also of a sports apparel company. All of these companies use the prism logo since their take-over and all of them are owned by an international syndicate,” Sergeant Miller went on and showed Trish some documents on a tablet computer.

“Yes, yes ... go on!” Trish said while she looked only a second at each document to scan and save all of them.

“Well, that’s where the tracks are covered. The syndicate itself consists of several companies registered mostly in Japan ... and I haven’t been able to get any information on the people behind those yet. That’s just the way it is today ... everything is just a brand, is controlled from a back room by people you can’t track down.”

“Damn!” Trish cursed and simultaneously went through the scanned documents before her inner eye, “But hey, what’s that? CACHE Ltd. & Co. AG?”

“Yes, Grincher is head and owner of that company being registered in Germany. The German tax fraud investigators have been very helpful. They can’t give account of how that company has investments and expenses but no earnings at all. So they’re very eager to co-operate.”

“So Grincher took the technology from Laura and now sells it illegally and without proper concessions to other companies and even to the end customer who doesn’t know what he’s really buying? But he’s also just the pawn in the syndicate’s game. Oh, wait a second!” Trish said and pulled the customer list out of her pocket. She had insisted to get it printed out by IM-03 as Trish didn’t want to get in touch with unchecked files. Trish unfolded it and put it on the table. Her eyes scanned all the data rapidly and compared them to the documents she had just scanned. “Here! Right after Grincher had left, CACHE took over the major part of Laura’s redundant call-centre drones. And it was before Grincher became CEO. So that’s why Laura couldn’t associate Grincher with that PRISM cycling suit.”

“Well, now we have at least a connection between that cycling suit, the mind-controlling technology and Dr. Grincher. And we have an address,” Sergeant Miller smiled.

“Yes, Ray. So let’s visit this CACHE dump!” Trish exclaimed and wanted to stand up.

“Oh wait! The Commissioner wants to talk to you this evening at his house ... something about that attack on Jenny’s transport,” Ray intervened.

“All right...” Trish rolled her eyes, buried her face in her hands and shook her head.

“Hi, Trish! Having a hard day? And where’s Frank? Hi, Ray!” Doris smiled as she joined them at their table.

“Well, there’s this new case that’s opening old wounds but has no proper leads ... and Frank has been hurt. He won’t leave hospital until Thursday. And then this,” Trish complained and took a look around.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Trish. But hey, I’m sure Frank will be all right again. And he has solved every case until now. Uhm, and this ... Yes, like I told you the other day. My boss’ new concept. He had the place turned inside out on just one day and gave me an ultimatum: become a drone till the end of the week or get sacked. And I would really like to sue him for that.”

“But? I thought your lawyer was ready to go?” Trish frowned.

“Well, I won a nice red coupé and about a year’s salary. I just had to answer some questions, share my social media account ... and boom! So today’s my last workday and I can finally get out of this shiny sausage casing,” Doris smiled.

“Oh, I really liked you in that new outfit, Doris. But congrats!” Trish smiled and then frowned again. “A red coupé?! What kind of?”

“Like that one there on the billboard!” Doris pointed towards a billboard on a car park on the other side of the road. Trish looked at it and saw the picture of a sport coupé with sparkling red metallic paint and big rims. It was the ad for an internet survey with the raffle of several coupés. Trish looked at the logo on the car and then internally checked the photos that had been presented to her and the Inspector by their Captain the other day. Before her inner eye, she saw Samantha standing in front of a red coupé, the same one like that on the billboard. She then compared the logos ... they were both prisms refracting a ray of light.

“Trish?” Ray asked as Trish just sat there looking towards the car park while she computed everything and then scrutinized the female motorcyclist arriving in the car park. Trish got distracted for a moment by her shiny black leather-clad body sitting on a black motorbike.

“Oh, sorry ... Ray! Uhm ... there’s another connection. That missing girl, Alexandra, drove a coupé just like that when she disappeared. A coupé bearing that prism logo, just like the cycling suit and Stephanie Creeks’ new TV. So ... Hey, wait a minute!” she finally shouted as she spotted a red dot flitting over the sugar sprinkler and Ray’s and her arm on the table. Trish looked back at the biker in the car park. The woman had opened her helmet’s shaded visor and pointed a small rifle with a laser pointer in their direction. Trish zoomed in on her and Trish’s face recognition software told her who that woman was. “Gun! Get down!”

“What?!” Ray looked at the car park but the biker had already closed the helmet and tried to put the rifle away. As he looked back at Trish, she jumped towards the door. Ray followed her out of the diner and saw how Trish crossed the busy street without really paying attention and ran across the car park. The biker still tried to latch the rifle on to the bike which didn’t work at once so that Trish gained on her.

But finally, the rifle was secure and the bike’s electric engine revved. Just before Trish reached the woman, the black bike darted sideways with a screeching tyre, went through an aisle and left the car park. Trish took a shortcut through the entrance and had to jump over a car coming right towards her. She landed on the roof, fell off the car and rolled into the middle of the street.

But she instantly got up on her feet again. She started to run and cursed as the bike veered away quickly on the main street. Trish really tried to keep up with the motorbike and normally she would have. But although she tried to run after the motorbike as fast as she could, her robotic legs did not provide the speed she needed. As the motorbike went around a corner and out of Trish’s sight, she finally slowed down and remained right in the middle of the heavy traffic.

“Fuck!” Trish screamed out loud and wanted to walk back to the diner. But as she turned around, she was hit by a truck and was pushed along the tarmac. The truck driver stepped on the brakes, honked and shouted towards Trish. But she just stood up, signalled him not be hurt and went back to Ray. On her way towards him, Trish’s wounds healed automatically and even her ripped latex jeggings grew back together.

“That was Jenny! I’m 100 per cent sure. But I couldn’t keep up with her. Something’s not working properly,” she said and patted the dust from her jacket.

“But why would she want to shoot you? Revenge for letting her down?” Ray asked.

“Either that or it’s a nobody-shall-have-you-if-I-can’t-have you thing according to what she said to me this morning. She’s gone crazy, generally and about me.”

“Do you think there’s also a connection between her and that syndicate? Obstructing your investigations?”

“I don’t know. OK, uhm ... could you try to get further information, Ray? I’ll have a look around the block. Maybe I find something about Jenny. And then I’ll report to the Commissioner. But tomorrow morning we’ll visit CACHE,” Trish just said and went to her car.

IV.6. — Commissioner’s