The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Glitch watched, as the lithe form ghosted across the garish neon nightscape. Myriad electronic eyes followed the liquid shadow as it moved with elegant precision. Even with every technological gimmick she had been able to get her grubby hands upon, it was frighteningly difficult to keep track of the dancing shape. But the prowler had captured her interest, and that gave her the extra spur she required.

Image enhancement software chewed up more clock cycles, smoothing the scene into crystal digital clarity. The figure resolved, becoming a fur shrouded female, whose long flowing tail, while not prehensile, certainly augmented her already phenomenal balance. An ailuranthrope, here in the Sprawl? That elevated the scene from one of interest, to something far more important. People were going to want to know about this, people with money.

It took only a split second to reacquire the catgirl, as she suddenly plummeted into the street below, but Glitch was still cursing her sluggish reflexes. By the time she had refocused, and the software performed its technological sorcery, it was almost over. The woman’s target was already pinned in place, strong arms wrapped tightly around her straining curves, while that tail played cruelly at the cleft between her increasingly shaky legs.

There were no microphones within range, but it wasn’t difficult to imagine the feeble moans of despair, as the catgirl’s presumably drug-drenched rag soaked away what little remained of the corp-girl’s resistance. She was still putting up a spirited fight, but it was obvious to even the more optimistic of observers, that this battle had already been well and truly lost.

Glitch winced in expectation, noticing for the first time, how the attacker’s claws bit very gently into the woman’s flesh, piercing her formal business attire, and adding more than a hint of threat. The captive suddenly went very still, except for the involuntary shivers that continued to run through her held and controlled body. Then, quite unexpectedly, her eyes just rolled back, and she collapsed into the catgirl’s eager embrace.

Almost as suddenly as it had been caught in the first place, Glitch could feel her attention slipping. Copulation between meat-things was just so disgustingly organic, there would be ooze, and mess, neither of which she found remotely appealing. Stray signals impinged on her flighty sensorium, dragging her thoughts elsewhere, and confining both the catgirl and her prey to the shadows of obscurity.

Neko relished the softness of her captive’s body, letting her touch roam freely, as the potent soporific drained away the woman’s last feeble struggles. Her long tail shivered, suddenly bushy with arousal and unrestrained excitement. Not quite as deft as her probing fingers, it was more than dexterous enough to plough the slippery furrow between her victims surprisingly aroused cuntlips.

Nepetalactone was still tingling on her nerve endings, synthetic catnip that she had inhaled before starting on the mission. Her augmented arousal prickled over each of her taut nipples, giving the most wonderful feedback as they ground against the other woman’s spine. Neko’s claws sheathed and unsheathed, restless kitten-behaviour as the urge to hunt and pounce shifted down more erotic paths.

The catgirl wanted to play with her new toy, and it was easy to subvert some of the necessities of this abduction in order to fulfil that desire. After all, the abductee would need to be restrained for the journey, and searched very thoroughly. So long as the woman was delivered as promised, she had been granted almost total discretion as to how the job was accomplished.

Fine fabric parted easily under her razor-sharp claws, revealing a wash of pale freckled skin. Freed from their constricting prison, the woman’s large breasts begged to be touched, and even through the flimsy lace of the inadequate bra, Neko could feel how the heavy flesh sloshed and responded. Nipples stiffening still further as she scooped out each deliciously engorged globe.

A delirious mix of sensations assaulted her, as the catgirl’s sinuous body vibrated in excitement. The basso purr thrummed into the depths of her captive, and made both of their eager cunts clench and juice. The rich perfume of arousal clung to them, dilating Neko’s pupils and sending thrills of pleasure skittering along her spine. An instant later, she was a frenzied blur of fang and claw, shredding what little dignity her prisoner retained.

Lost in the heat of her responses, Neko’s animal self took charge, the base drives of her selfish id subsuming even her thoughts, until she was nothing but a rutting feral beast. Pressing herself so tightly into the other woman, letting her soft fur tickle and stimulate, while her pointed nipples gouged tender grooves into that imprisoned flesh. She growled, her need just so evident, crushing her gaping sex into her captive’s silky seam and grinding the soft pliant flesh in deliciously slippery circles.

Neko slid eagerly up over the woman’s clearly aroused body, trailing her slick, greasy essence as she went. It coated her captive’s puffy mound, and painted her stomach with the sweat of desire. Then, quite wantonly, the catgirl began to hump her glistening cuntlips onto those perfect heavy tits, flicking each puckered, tender nipple against her throbbing clit and soaking the ripe flesh with her dribbling juices.

She was consumed with the need to fuck, pumping her hips in a frenzy of lusty abandon, while her claws drew long angry wheals over the woman’s arms and shoulders. But even in the midst of her carnal convulsions, Neko’s claws never broke the skin. The woman was far too valuable to be damaged, and the price of disobedience was far too steep.

When she came, it was surprisingly restrained, especially given the wildness of her rapacious assault. Her entire body went rigid, vibrating at such speed that she was almost humming. Neck muscles tightened, tendons straining and then, with a surprisingly soft cry, Neko began to hump and thrash with renewed vigour. Slowly the small noises of delight gave way to a gentle giggle, and the apparently sated catgirl slipped easily off of her conquest’s unconscious but obviously responsive body.

Now, all that remained was to bind her thoroughly and transport her to the specified address. Neko grinned, showing her fangs. It wasn’t often that you got to indulge your hobby as part of a paid job, but the crepuscular shifter had never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth. The client would complain when they both turned up reeking of sex, but she had no intention of losing her sexual charge, and like many of her kind, the thought of a bath was anathema.

Another quick dab with her sedative-laden cloth, and the helpless woman was very much fit to be tied. Neko took her time, laying out the various cords and straps, and only when they were all arranged to her satisfaction did she begin to bundle her captive into the most delectable and secure package imaginable. The catgirl’s purring once again filled the night, and she began to wonder if she might have time for just one more orgasm.

Elke blinked in confusion, as the world around her abruptly sprang back into life. Reality lurched, jumping ahead from that instant of horrified realisation to a very different ‘now’. The musky scent of sex filled her mind, and left its sticky prints over her almost completely naked body. That ‘almost’ consisted only of a few strategically placed ropes, and one shockingly tight, leather belt.

Her arms were trapped behind her back, hands nestling comfortably against the warm curves of her buttocks. Silk wrapped them, encircling her elbows and wrists. She struggled a little, testing the bonds, but even the most casual movements only served to accentuate how expertly they had been tied. Similar cords bound the young programmer’s knees and ankles, while the belt encircled her chest and arms, pinning them in place.

The memory of soft fur, and needle claws tingled in the back of her mind, making the young woman’s body ache. But, no matter how hard she tried, Elke couldn’t find the clarity that would enable her to understand. The last wisps of sedative veiled her thoughts in a chemical daze, but when she finally started to notice her surroundings, the programmer quickly realised that unadorned, window and apparently doorless rooms were very much the last place one wanted to awaken in a state of stringent and quite naked bondage.

Involuntary recruitment, or kidnapping to use more prosaic terminology, was part and parcel of corporate life, and Elke was well aware that her area of expertise was particularly sought after. After all, if you knew how your competitors protected their computer systems, you were one step closer to accessing their most intimate secrets. Naturally the corporations knew this as well, and so, as soon as her disappearance was noticed, they would assume that anything on which she had worked was now compromised.

But while abduction was the norm, being stripped, thoroughly used and then tightly bound was not at all what she had expected. A cooperative captive was infinitely preferable to an adversarial one, and yet whoever had taken her, must have known how badly her treatment so far would have pissed her off. Elke gritted her teeth, refusing to allow her fear and consternation to show, as a well-concealed door slid silently open, and she saw her captor for the first time.

“Good morning, Dr. Hilflos,” the slender Asian woman began, warmly, “I trust that you slept well.”

Elke’s attention was divided between the two people who had entered her cell. The smallest of the pair, was a slight, olive-skinned woman of indeterminate age and it was she who had spoken. The other woman looked and moved like a dancer, and her unblinking stare was disconcerting to say the least. And yet, despite that, the programmer was in no doubt as to which of them was in charge.

“I’m afraid that you have me at a disadvantage,” Elke replied carefully, trying unsuccessfully to ignore the predatory gaze, “Ms.?”

“That remains to be seen,” her captor replied easily, “For the moment lets treat this like a job interview. I have an opening that needs to be filled, and I had heard that you were the girl to whom I should be talking.”

“Well then,” the programmer began, ignoring the double entendre, “As I am very much you captive audience, why don’t you tell me what you need?”

“Straight to the point,” she agreed, smiling, “Good, I like that. Let me be equally straight with you, Doctor. You have knowledge that is vital to my employers, and for that reason alone we are having this conversation. I was all for popping you straight into one of our conditioning pods, and making you see things my way, but the board said that I had to give you the chance to work with us of your own free will.

“Consider this to be very much your only chance, Doctor, because the pod’s still waiting. So, because I have to, I will ask nicely. Will you accept my employer’s very generous offer and help us finish the vaccine, or do I get Neko to strap you into the tight confines of your own slutpod, and let it fuck that tedious resistance out of every orifice it can plumb?”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Elke gasped, wishing that she didn’t sound so unsure, “I’m too valuable for you to risk.”

“Are you sure?” the second woman wondered softly, “Because from what I tasted, my guess is that you’d fetch a pretty good price on the open market … and we’ll be sure to keep a backup copy of everything that made you unique, before we start to tinker … you know how that works … don’t you Doctor?”

She couldn’t think of anything to say to that, and quite suddenly it really hit home just how alone and vulnerable she truly was. They held all the cards, and now she could understand why they had already treated her so cruelly. It didn’t matter; there was nothing she could do, because they were going to get what they wanted in the end. Her choice was whether there would be anything left of her when they were done.

“Okay,” she breathed, shoulders slumping in resignation, “You don’t need your pod, I’ll give you what you want.”

The tall woman gave an exaggerated sigh and muttered soft curses, while tapping her surprisingly long nails against the doorframe. Throughout it all, she kept Elke pinned with her gaze, eyes flashing with something other than anger, as their hue flickered in a kaleidoscope of startlingly bright colours.

“Oh, don’t pout, Neko,” the Asian woman grinned, “Dr. Hilflos is a pragmatist, once she understood the reality of her situation, she was always going to give in. Of course, being the bright and intelligent woman we know and love, she’s already wondering what will keep us from reneging on our deal as soon as we have the vaccine. And that’s easy as well. There’s absolutely no guarantee, Elke, you’ll just have to take it on trust.”

The Go Down was everything that Selene hated about the Levels. A trite corporate replica of what every wannabe and poser believed a hacker bar should look like. The fact that it sat almost squarely at the centre of the Axbridge pentangle was its only redeeming feature. Since Avebury and the ‘henge had fallen only a handful of loci remained. Either Ms. Johnson knew an awful lot more than was comfortable, or the hacker had just got exceptionally lucky.

She had no intention of making an entrance, everyone who needed to know about her, already did, and the less attention a girl in her line of work could draw the better. Discretion was her watchword, and that was exactly the reason why the corps were willing to pay her exorbitant fees. Nothing could have been further from the minds of the other patrons however. Their garish and utterly impractical clothing was the very least of it. The hacker had to suppress a shiver, amusement and revulsion battling within her, to see which could provoke the strongest reaction.

Shoulders hunched, and suppressing the urge to scream, Selene walked through the faux debris and straight passed the uncharacteristically welcoming bouncers. Their bulk suggested more than a little DNA tinkering had taken place, and idly she wondered if there might even be a hint of troll in the largest’s family tree. Pushing such thoughts aside, she let herself drift and really looked at the crowd. No one paid any heed to the woman, as she leaned heavily on her cane, searching for the person who had invited her to this hideous place.

It turned out that Ms. Johnson was a surprisingly understated woman and, (at least as far as Selene’s augmented senses could divine), one who was travelling solo. The lack of discernable backup was almost as concerning as it was welcome. It suggested that either the bland woman was a rank amateur, or that she was supremely confident in her own abilities. Every instinct told her that it was the latter, but she couldn’t decide if that was reassuring or not.

“Good evening,” she offered, awkwardly squeezing herself into the booth.

The other woman’s watery eyes drifted over Selene’s body. Then they rose slowly until she was staring unblinkingly into the hacker’s own. The ghost of a smile played over surprisingly full lips, but her eyes remained dead and soulless. Once again, Selene found herself fighting to conceal her reaction. There was no warmth behind the dour façade, and precious little that felt even remotely human.

“Selene,” the other woman stated flatly.

“Ms. Johnson,” she replied, deadpan, “Your invitation was long on innuendo but short on details. Want to tell me what I’m doing here?”

“I apologise,” Johnson answered with a grimace, “But I couldn’t afford to give too much away. You see, I represent a party who recently lost one of their prime assets, and I want to hire you to find it for me.”

“Your employer must have more than enough bodies to track down their asset,” Selene said softly, “What do you need me for?”

“We’re compromised,” the woman breathed after a long moment, “The opposition know every move we make, sometimes even before we do. I can’t trust anyone, and that’s where you come in. I’ve heard good things about you.”

“Such as?” the hacker wondered, after all, it never paid to be a celebrity.

“You did some very impressive work for Aquatech,” she smiled, “We now own them, and all their files … even the locked and encrypted ones.”

Selene nodded casually, almost certain that this corpgirl was knowingly dangling hints under her nose, and wondering if there was anything that had been said so far that she could believe.

“So,” she began, “What makes this asset so important?”

In response, Ms. Johnson rose from her chair in one fluid movement. The hacker instantly reassessed the seemingly benign woman, realising she was far more than she seemed. Nobody moved like that, at least not in the real world.

Ms. Johnson led, and she followed, slipping deeper into the pale plastic imitation of reality. Even the grime was somehow sanitised, a safe taste of deprivation and violence for those too cowardly to slum it for real.

The back room was suitable shady, the air already thick with burnt hydrocarbons and complex aromatics. It took only moments for the corpgirl to sweep for bugs, but even though everything came up clear, that didn’t stop her from placing a small white-noise generator at the centre of their table.

“What do you know about Soulkiller?” the woman asked carefully.

“It’s a myth,” Selene sighed, “A net-legend that you use to scare newbies and impressionable young corplets.”

“That is the perceived wisdom,” Johnson agreed, “But what if I told you that it was in fact very real, and that currently it was the only thing stopping an all-out corp-war?”

“I’d start by asking just what you’d been dosing,” the hacker smiled.

“Think about it,” the woman suggested, “The big bad program, lurking in the shadows and ready to pounce on any individual at the moment they logged on. Uploading their wetware into whatever hell the programmer can imagine, while the meatbody gets its synapses flashfried. That’s the kind of deterrent that’ll keep even the big boys at the negotiating table.”

“Why are you telling me this?” the hacker wondered, “I’m pretty sure you aren’t suppose to share that with the likes of me.”

“No,” Johnson admitted, “But you need to know what’s at stake. Because this asset has been working on the countermeasure, and from what I’ve heard, it’s pretty much complete. Whoever has it can attack with impunity, without fear of reprisals. They can effective hold the world to ransom. You more than anyone should understand, it’s now all but impossible to get through even one day without accessing the net, imagine what the fear alone would do.”

“Okay,” she accepted, “If nothing else you’ve caught my interest. But, there’s still the thorny issue of my fee.”

The other woman’s calculating smile said everything. Selene was hooked; all that remained was the tawdry process of negotiating payment. But Johnson, (or at least the company she represented), had deep pockets and truth be told, if she was telling the truth, this was a job that the hacker would have taken on spec.

Something glinted in Johnson’s outstretched hand, and it took Selene a moment to recognise what she was being offered. Gingerly she reached out and took the proffered credstick. Rolling the small cylinder in her palm, the hacker could she that it was already formatted, and couldn’t quite hide her astonishment when she saw how much money it actually contained.

“I do so hate haggling,” the corpgirl confided, “That’s my only offer, as you can see, it’s more than generous. Now, the only question that remains is, do we have a deal?”

“Show me everything that you’ve got,” Selene nodded.

“I don’t like her,” Glitch complained, “And more importantly, I don’t trust her.”

“You don’t like anyone,” the hacker pointed out, gently, “But what makes you think that I’d trust a ‘Johnson’ anyway? She’s going to try to screw us over, we already know that, it’s all part of the game.”

“Great game,” muttered the spirit.

She fought to control her irritation, knowing that anger would do her no good under the circumstances. However adept she might consider herself, this was the spirit’s realm, not her own. And while she might be able to work around the stringent rules by which the construct operated, she knew from past experience that Glitch frequently seemed to ignore them completely.

Magic and tech didn’t mix, everyone knew that, and yet here she was, Selene Nemea, technoshaman and weirdness-magnet extraordinaire. She still had no idea why the chaos spirit had decided to possess her cyberdeck, but Glitch seemed content to linger and expelling the recalcitrant gremlin just wasn’t worth the effort and likely pain involved.

Besides, she had to admit that the spirit’s wry humour was infectious and so long as she kept it sweet, its presence was a boon rather than a hindrance. Oh sure, it ate up most of her clock speed, but Glitch was a literal ghost in the machine. And, even better, the creature had an almost limitless curiosity.

“So,” Selene wondered after a moment, “What have you been able to find out so far?”

“Well,” Glitch grinned maliciously, sharp fangs marring her otherwise perfect features, “While you and the suit were flirting.”

“Flirting?” the hacker interrupted, angrily, “She’s hardly my type.”

The spirit muttered something about Johnson “having a pulse”, before Selene’s icy glare reminded it that discretion was the better part of valour. The virtual office warped and stretched, as Glitch remodelled the complex simulation on the fly. An instant later, the construct snapped back into shape. Even before the ripples had faded, the gremlin began to lecture.

“Johnson gave us more than enough clues to guess who she’s working for,” Glitch explained, pinning a small photo in the centre of the whiteboard, “And that was the first clue that something’s not right here.”

“Go on,” Selene prompted.

“Okay, according to her, Johnson’s company owns Aquatech,” the spirit continued, “Which, if true, means that she’s employed by Aegis Industries.”

The hacker’s avatar blinked, surprise registering on its idealised features. Glitch simply grinned even wider, before pressing on with its explanation. Selene fought to keep her sudden nausea in check, grateful that the RAS override stopped any reactions from reaching her meatbody. Aegis was owned by the Crown, and that opened up a whole new catalogue of interesting ways to die.

“Tell me it’s not true,” she asked, almost desperately.

“’Fraid not,” Glitch giggled, “I ran a background check on our little Ms. Johnson, they’d buried it pretty deep, but that helped to keep me interested. Her real name is Elizabeth Jenner, and she was previous employed by the Security Service. It all gets a bit hazy after that, but she turned up again last year, heading up the Water Division at Aegis.”

“Water Division?” Selene asked, knowing how much the spirit delighted in her education.

“As in, wetwork,” the gremlin sniggered, “It seems that your girlfriend’s job is to have peopled killed, for King and Country.”

The hacker ignored the gibe and tried to focus on the tricky question of what to do next. While the increasingly mysterious Ms. Jenner might actually intend to let her keep the money, that didn’t really seem that likely. Selene already knew far more than was healthy for her, so it wasn’t as if she could simply walk away from the job.

“One of Aegis’ programmers did go missing yesterday,” Glitch added, breaking the hacker’s chain of thought, “Elke Hilflos, a memeticist. She got snatched off the street by an as yet unidentified catgirl.”

“Do you know where it happened?”

“Oh yes,” the spirit smiled happily, “I captured the whole thing on crystal, well right up until the point where they both were getting down and dirty.”

“Show me,” Selene demanded, “Then I get to play bloodhound.”

Neko slipped the mouthpiece between her lips, and let out a long slow breath. Then, she jabbed fiercely at the inhaler’s trigger and sucked in as much of the potent chemical as she could manage. Slit pupils widened, and the world took on a new clarity. Waves of trembling excitement rose up from her belly, stirring her fur and making her claws unsheathe in ecstatic spasms.

The doctor had been as good as her word, furnishing them with the vaccine’s missing portions and even fine-tuning the complex jury-rigged code. But that in turn meant that the young woman’s usefulness was now at an end. The catgirl’s tail shivered, wrapping itself around her midriff as if trying to hold onto the memory of their feral lovemaking.

Sakura would have plans of her own, but if their captive were to do something stupid, like trying to escape, for example, well, Neko would have no option but to take matters into her own paws. Grinning savagely, she deactivated the cell’s maglock and then simply waited. It took only moments for Elke to take the bait, but the catgirl was in no hurry. In fact, she relished the chase, which in her experience only served to make the capture than much sweeter.

She watched, as the doctor took one hesitant step through the now open door. It was obvious that she was wary of a trap, and yet, Neko knew that she couldn’t afford to pass up such an opportunity. Elke was already living on borrowed time, and her cooperation had only delayed the inevitable. She was too valuable to just release, and yet too great a threat to leave as she was. In the end, there was only one option, the pod.

The corridor was only dimly lit, and Elke had to grope her way. Neko had already made sure that only the doors she needed were unlocked, the trick was maintaining the illusion that the doctor had any choice in the path she was taking. The catgirl padded silently behind her prey, fighting the urge to purr. Every step seemed to grind her thighs together more deliciously, and the growing dampness matted her silken fur.

Neko waited until her quarry stepped through the final door, and then she pounced. The doctor had nothing beyond the most rudimentary self-defence training, and no augmentation to back it up. Whereas, the catgirl had a lifetime in the school of hard-knocks and several centuries of genetic memory. So, the battle, (such as it was), was over in an instant.

When the door opened, Elke had initially braced herself for some new indignity. They might have finally untied her, although she knew that was only because she needed the use of her arms to do as they asked. But they hadn’t seen fit to return her clothes. Now that the job had been done, she wasn’t about to place her trust in them, and in truth, she had merely been waiting for them to renege on the deal.

But as the seconds ticked by, the doctor began to wonder and eventually curiosity overwhelmed her natural caution. Backup lighting illuminated the corridor, casting deeper shadows and somehow only intensifying the darkness. Adrenaline pumped, her heart beating out an eager tattoo, while muscles strained and trembled.

She ignored the other cells, although part of her did want to help the poor souls she imagined had also been trapped here. Elke knew that she was neither brave nor skilled enough to save anyone but herself, and however difficult that decision might be, it was the only one she could realistically make.

By the time she reached the first security door, the hormonal high was beginning to burn itself out. Lethargy gnawed at her, and the taste of spent adrenaline was a bitter note on the base of her tongue. The heavy door swung slowly open, revealing a small chamber and, more importantly, an ominously woman-sized, clear plastic tube.

That was when the strong arms enfolded her in an intimate embrace, soft fur tickling warmly against her naked skin. Her attacker’s excitement sent tremors into her backside. Their breath was a warm caress; its moist heat lapping lovingly at the nape of her neck and forcing a series of delighted shivers to cascade into her surprisingly eager sex. Neko’s tail wrapped sinuously around her throat, but that wasn’t the only reason it became suddenly hard to breathe.

The doctor’s traitorous cunt continued to clench and drool, as the catgirl’s perfume dragged hopelessly sweaty memories from her befuddled brain. Neko slid one clawed finger between her helpless lips and swirled its tip in the sloppy heat of her arousal. She could feel herself melting, falling back into those strong imprisoning arms. And, with those hot, taut little nipples massaging her spine, Elke simply lacked the strength or the resolve to even think of getting away.

“Hello, little mouse,” Neko hissed, letting her finger scratch across tight, tender flesh, “Do you know what happens next, can you guess?”

Her only response was a soft plaintive whine, mixing despair and desire into one feeble moan. The catgirl’s tail pulled tighter, and she felt herself lifted and carried, the room swirling in the vertigo of anoxia. Suddenly the pod loomed before her, its interior cushioned and slick. Fear tried unsuccessfully to fight its way past the throb of her need.

“I’m going to put you in there,” the catgirl whispered confidingly, “And the pod will turn you into the most perfect plaything. Mistress calls these her slutpods, and that’s just what you’ll be when I’m done with you. Won’t that be fun, little one, being my will-less, eager, pussylicking cumslut?”

Elke wanted to deny it, to scream out her defiance, but every word simply died before it could reach her tongue. It felt too good; the catgirl’s touch was just too sure and certain. That claw drew its lewd spiral on her shivering clit, and every touch dragged her deeper and deeper into the sticky fog of helpless lust.

Then, she was being lowered into the waiting cocoon. Devices slipped easily into her slick cunt, filling her so wonderfully that she never wanted to be empty again. Cables interfaced seamlessly with her datajack, granting the machine unfettered access to her fragile wetware.

The doctor stared up into golden eyes, her body already daubed with the catgirl’s juices, and realised how little work the machine had left to do. Then, a second, smaller and well-lubricated dildo slid into her arse in a series of convulsive thrusts, and that was enough to make her scream. Neko’s solicitous hands took hold of her swollen breasts; pricking the surface of her skin and making it burn.

Eyes drifting shut, her groans mingled with the catgirl’s answering growl. She could feel her heavy flesh being claimed by those cruel fingers, and could only arch her back in need. Moist heat wrapped around one taut nipple, rasping over the agonised nub, as Neko began to lick. The doctor could feel herself being worn away; as each stroke abraded a little more of her ability to even contemplate resistance.

Her last conscious thought, as the maddening attention withdrew, and the lid slowly descended, was the realisation that her captor hadn’t needed any technological assistance to turn her into a wanton slut. The catgirl had already done that, all by herself.