The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive


Part 4 — Remade:

Even though I had started to accept the changes happening to me, I wasn’t sure what had caused them. My memory was still spotty. Suddenly, I had an urge to go home immediately. It felt innately like the next proper step to take.

I drove in silence, still contemplating my unusual behavior. I was struck by how much I had enjoyed it. Usually I was a quiet and shy individual, not anything like the aggressive take charge dominatrix in that restroom. I now smiled at the memory, licking my lips. Perhaps I’d get the chance to do it again? The thought had my body tensing again, ready for stimulation. I wouldn’t have minded stopping to release the tension, but something drove me on. I felt as though I had an appointment to keep.

When I opened the front door, I was struck by a hot and humid atmosphere. I could hear the heater going full bore, and the hiss of a humidifier. I briefly wondered who had set up my place like this, but I found it strangely satisfying. Before I could inquire further, my attention was drawn to the mistress glued to the ceiling of my living room.

The mistress? A key turned in my brain, and memories spilled out like a slinky going down the stairs. I suddenly remembered it all, Zoey’s initial seduction and the encounter last night with my very own alien plant mistress. I recognized it, the shape the same as last night, but now it appeared to be at least twice as big as before.

I started undressing like an automaton, instinctively knowing that I must be naked to enjoy the embrace of my mistress. I had just unclasped and discarded my bra when a voice startled me. “Are you ready for your transformation, slave?” The voice asked, silkily.

I turned and saw Zoey slip in from the next room. At least I thought was Zoey – she appeared almost unrecognizable. She was naked, her shapely body closer to that of a supermodel’s than to her previous petite build. Besides her new busty curves, her skin was now a shockingly bright green color. Her eyes had vertical slits like a cat’s, with olive green pupils. It struck me suddenly that my eyes were the same color as hers, but the realization only distracted me momentarily as I continued taking in her features. On her cheeks and forehead were what looked like some kind of geometric tattoos that glowed blue as if they were lit from within. Her hair looked more like miniature vines than individual strands, also green. The strands floated ethereally in the air, looking as though they could be consciously controlled. Her skin had a slick sheen to it, giving it the same effect as if it had been oiled. My eyes darted to her well-built breasts, betraying my longing.

“Like what you see?” She purred softly. “It gets even better!” She smirked and opened her mouth, letting her tongue flow out like a snake. I watched with rising astonishment as it continued to grow. She continued to smile as she looped it around one of her breasts, swirling over it softly. She cupped her breasts with her hands gently and pushed her upper body forward, thrusting them out. Her tongue vanished back into her mouth quicker than it had appeared. “You want?” she asked knowingly.

Part of me was screaming in fear, but the part that mattered desperately wanted to go to my friend and lick every inch of her slippery body. I nodded and licked my lips, taking an involuntary step forward. Zoey backed up smoothly and smiled again. “I’m sorry, slave, but you can’t. You’re not ready yet. You still need to go through your own transformation.” She pointed at the mistress mounted on the ceiling. “Join with your mistress once more,” she said sultrily, “and afterwards we’ll be playmates forever!”

It was hard, but my attention slid from the caricature of what used to be Zoey over to my mistress mounted on the ceiling. I could feel my heart thumping as the bottom of the plant-like mass irised open and the familiar sight of a vine lowered itself down. I stepped forward, knowing what came next, unable to even put up a token resistance. I knew that I had already given in, already accepted that I was a slave to my desires and my mistress. Perhaps I wouldn’t have been so eager if I had known what would happen next.

I closed my lips over the tentacle, ready to receive the enslaving liquid. The vine’s end swelled as expected, trapping me into my current course of action. I could no longer escape, my fate was sealed.

I was confused and somewhat disappointed that the vine hadn’t started to pump me full of the nectar. Some inkling that something might be different this time occurred when I saw two smaller vines descending from my mistress. I held still, curious as to what they might be for. They dangled, seeming to seek something in particular. When they found it, I had no time to react. The tendrils dropped with superhuman speed into each nostril. I could feel them moving into my sinuses. Before I had a chance to struggle, they swelled, forming an air tight seal between me and my mistress.

I started to struggle, realizing that I wouldn’t be able to breathe. I moved my hands to the tubes violating my nose, ready to attempt to extract them by force. Hands clasped my wrists, stopping them from moving any further. “Relax,” breathed Zoey softly, “let your mistress breathe for you. She is in complete control. Let go, let yourself fall into her embrace.”

Her words calmed me, let me give in to her control. It was ridiculous to panic. Mistress wanted to control her slaves, not kill them. I felt my lungs inflating, cool sweet air being pumped into me. The hands left me, Zoey retreating a short distance. “I admit the process won’t be entirely pleasant,” she said, “but you’ll always treasure it as your most intimate encounter with your mistress. You must believe me that you’ll be much improved once it is complete. Trust in your mistress.”

I stilled my body, gaining confidence. I let my mistress breathe for me, smoothly accepting the control she had over me. I felt good, safe and protected, my hands relaxing down by my sides once more.

Now that I no longer resisted, I started noticing more changes occurring. From the edges of the mistress a thin sheeting was growing, forming a dome-like structure above me. The transparent, greenish structure looked almost like some kind of skin. I watched with detached curiosity as it flowed downwards, surrounding me. It dropped quickly, draping over my body like a bed sheet. It feet strangely warm and dry, as though it was alive.

“It won’t be long now,” said Zoey joyfully. “Soon you will be remade, and join me as a sister slave. I will await here as you make your journey. Don’t bother trying to resist, it just makes her hungrier.”

Journey? I thought, querulously. What was she talking about? And how would I ever resist my mistress?

Her comments had been enough to distract me as the skin-like substance had finished surrounding me. It had somehow managed to squeeze itself under my feet. I probed it with my toes, not able to feel any break in the material. I was now well and truly cocooned.

I could feel a trickle of some kind of liquid dribbling down my right shoulder, slipping down my side to pool at my feet. I had barely registered the strange sensation when the trickle became a veritable flood. Despite what I had told myself earlier, what I thought I believed, I now knew I had been lying to myself. I was terrified, visions of being drowned by this strange liquid dancing through my head.

The organism seemed to have anticipated my fear, pumping oxygen into my lungs faster than before, matching my body’s needs. I blindly felt for a way out, pressing at the sides of the cocoon, failing to make a dent in the side of the yielding, slippery wall.

In my panic, I hadn’t noticed that the liquid had raised high enough to come in contact with my vagina. Unexpected sensations blossomed from below, warring with the fears I felt. I started to feel more relaxed, soporific as the level continued to rise. My body temperature rose, now reacting to arousal, not fear. I started to sweat, the temperature in the enclosed space easily rising above ninety degrees.

The sweat dripped off me, feeling rather uncomfortable, and now the liquid had encompassed my hips. I was starting to worry again when the knotty vine in my mouth began to pulse unexpectedly. I knew what to expect now, and sucked eagerly at the vine as it started excreting the sweet, sweet nectar.

I was incredibly distracted, having gone from terror to bliss in less than two minutes. I had reached my mental limit, my mind shutting down, simply letting me experience. I trembled softly, my eyes fluttering as the liquid reached the level of my breasts, softly caressing them.

I was uncontrollable now, completely concentrated on trying to achieve orgasm. I stroked my clitoris with my left hand and kneaded a breast with my right, wantonly sucking down the addictive nectar still being forcibly provided to me by my mistress. My world had shrunk to this pocket of space, to what I was feeling and nothing else. Perhaps that’s why I barely noticed when spring loaded vines struck from above, embedding themselves in my cheeks and forehead.

* * *

I felt myself floating alone, in an abyss. I was lost, adrift. All around me stretched ineffable blackness. I was frightened, scared. I yelled out, calling for help. For an indeterminate time nothing happened, the darkness eating at my soul.

Eventually, when I was at my most vulnerable, I could feel a presence approaching. Somehow, I knew it was feminine. It radiated warmth, love, comfort. It would take care of me, in return, I would never have to worry about anything ever again. In short, it demanded my obedience for happiness.

I considered for a period of time, the specter of being alone eating me alive. In the end, I felt I had no choice. If it wanted me, I would obey her in all things.

As soon as I broadcast my decision, I felt joy, freedom from worry and want imbuing my being. The entity embraced me, entwining itself inextricably inside me. I would never escape her embrace ever again. I would never want to.

The other realm vanished and I opened my eyes. I was staring at Zoey. Her olive green eyes staring at me knowingly, the green skin covering her body making her look plant-like. Suddenly, I did a double take. Another figure had moved into view suddenly, also looking like Zoey. It was only when she reached up her hands to massage my shoulders and licked the corner of my right ear that realization dawned.

My body was now a carbon copy of Zoey’s, transformed into another plant lady. The only visible difference was the pattern of the tattoos on our foreheads. We were now truly sisters, slaves to the plants that had made us this way.

I turned around and clasped Zoey tightly, pleased to see her. I smiled broadly and kissed her on the mouth, forcing my tongue forward to dance lightly with hers.

She pulled back reluctantly, but she also smiled. “Pleased to see me, sister?” she asked. “I suppose I did promise, but now I find myself in a strange position.” She stepped back and bowed to the floor carefully. “I’m afraid I can’t simply take advantage of you now…my queen.”

“What?” I asked, astounded. “Turn around,” she said, “does anything look strange to you?”

I stared at her, aghast. What was going on? I turned back to the mirror, searching for some difference in my body that Zoey seemed to be reacting to. I finally settled on the tattoo that graced my forehead, understanding flooding me. The blue glowing tattoo on my forehead hadn’t seemed to make any recognizable pattern before, but now it appeared as if a tiara was etched into my brow.

I turned back to Zoey again, still taken aback. I felt strange, but powerful. “Queen of what, precisely?” I asked, astonished. “I command nothing! I am a slave myself!” I could feel my mistress caress my mind softly, expressing approval at my obedience. “I could not disobey her, even if I tried!”

“Of course not,” said Zoey complacently, “none of us can. She controls and we obey.” She shivered gently at the reinforcing thought, looking up at me from her obedient position on the floor. “However, she’s not exactly mobile. How is she going to plan recruiting? She needs arms and legs to execute her will. We provide that labor force, and it is a very pleasurable job.” She smacked her lips together in speculation.

“Every level of organization needs, shall we say, an operations manager. You are now that manager. The mistresses command, and we obey.” She wrinkled her nose cutely in thought. “I’m not entirely sure how they make decisions, but my mistress is definitely not in command. It appears that you have somehow gotten lucky – yours is. Congratulations, my queen.” She lowered her head again, her exposition finished.

I looked at her with curiosity. The feelings my mistress had fed me seemed to confirm what she was saying. I suddenly felt powerful, ready to do anything my mistress commanded of me. I looked at Zoey speculatively, raising an inquiry of my mistress. I stiffened in arousal when she returned in the affirmative.

I strode forward confidently with a slink in my step. I cupped her jaw with one hand, forcing her to look at me. “I think that it’s about time you kept your promise from earlier,” I said, pulling her to her feet. “Yes, my queen,” she said softly.

We both grinned at each other like idiots, then leaned in close for a kiss. Locking lips, our tongues swirled around each other gently, starting to build our arousal slowly. I traced the patterns on her cheeks delicately, admiring the permanent bright blue fluorescence that marked her as a slave. She reciprocated, lingering slowly over the tattoo that proclaimed me as queen of the slaves. We parted gently, our modified tongues dripping the addictive nectar that had played such an important role in our enslavement.

Zoey smiled wickedly. “I was wondering,” she said, “what would happen if we were to try a sixty-nine position with these tongues? What might it feel like?”

She had posed it as a suggestion, but my fertile imagination was racing ahead, envisioning the unbelievable pleasure we might be able to give with our magical tongues. “I don’t know,” I replied with the same kind of smile. Why don’t we find out?”

The proposal didn’t require any further discussion. We dropped to the ground quickly, working on getting into the right position. My breasts swelled as I felt my nipples brushing against Zoey’s lower chest. Her breasts contacted my belly, squeezing against me in a delightful fashion. I wasted no time in attempting to plunge my tongue down her slippery hole.

I wasn’t gentle, thrusting as fast as I could, deep as I could. I could feel my modified tongue unfolding from deep within my mouth, extending and sliding in smoothly. Finally, I could push it no farther, and waited for Zoey to do the same for me.

Once I felt her tongue reach my innermost regions, slipping with ease deep into my lubricated hole, I knew we were ready. Teasing her slowly, I pulled back out slightly and slid back in, very lightly stimulating her most sensitive areas. She followed my lead, eliciting a grunt from my occupied mouth.

I decided to speed up, working our mutual way towards climax more quickly. She matched my rhythm, pumping in and out, making me slick with lubrication. I ground my breasts into her body, trying to stimulate myself as much as possible.

It wasn’t long before we both were panting, ready for release. My body felt tight as a top, ready to explode at any moment. I knew what I needed to do to push her over the top, so I put my plan into action. I wriggled my tongue, vibrating the long organ inside her snatch.

She cried out and hesitated momentarily, but quickly caught on. We both were soon gyrating uncontrollably, pressing ourselves against each other with abandon. A little puff of hot air from Zoey’s mouth was enough to send me over the edge, my body alive with sensation. My writhing tongue quickly sent her into release as well, her moans sweet music to my ears.

Satiated, we lay there languidly for some time, sipping the nectar we had managed to elicit from each other. I sat up slowly, happy and pleased with how everything had turned out. I was queen and a slave, with a beautiful assistant slave, and it was all thanks to my mistress. I looked at the ceiling, giving her a loving look. She pulsed back satisfaction.

* * *

My phone rang, piercing the soft moaning sounds in my apartment. I picked it up, wondering who might be calling at this hour. “Who is it?” I asked.

The voice on the other end seemed hesitant, timid. “Hello, my name is…Rachel. I got this number after an…encounter in the student union building?” She seemed to lose steam after making this statement.

I smiled knowingly while sweeping my gaze over the living room. Three females stood upright, oblivious to the world, sucking on their mistresses. They shivered gently, their only movement a slight swallowing action as the nectar was forced down their throats.

I smiled benignly at my new slaves. There was always room for another. “Yes, Rachel. Good girl. You’ve called the right place. You can come over right away, we have a spot prepared for you already…”

END Planted