The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I woke up alone and confused. I knew I was on my boat. I knew I had left the shelter after a grueling 46 days in isolation. What I couldn’t be sure of though, was everything that came after that. Had I really seen a family that had been mind-controlled by aliens? And had their eldest daughter come to my boat, stripped off her clothes, and sucked my dick until I exploded in her mouth? If that did happen, then where was she? Hadn’t I told her to come back after going to get food?

Thoughts of food had my stomach fluttering and growling with anticipation. I rolled out of bed on legs that still weren’t completely steady, made a quick trip to the head, then out to the main cabin. There, I saw that at least part of my memories from yesterday were real.

A beautiful, naked Lulani was lying on the couch, reading a book. Wondrous smells drifted to me from the galley, where I saw several pots on the stove. The clock over the aft passageway read 11:20.

I stood there for a moment, absorbing everything around me, and trying not to be inundated by the situation. I’d had several minor “panic attacks” while I was in the shelter, because the reality I was trying to accept was just too bizarre for my mind to handle. Now though, on top of aliens, I had to acknowledge that my entire planet had been placed under the spell of some unknown alien race. Only my…well, basically my paranoia…had allowed me to escape that fate, and to find a loophole in the aliens’ scheme. Now I had a way to control other people using the aliens’ conditioning. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do about the larger situation: was I going to try to fight the aliens, or simply try to stay off their radar and do my own thing until I was either caught or dead?

It was kind of overwhelming, but I did the same thing I’d done in the shelter: told myself that this was just one more problem that needed solving, and there was no better problem solver on the planet than me (well, there were probably several thousand that were technically better than me, but for my Jedi mind trick to work on my subconscious, I needed to believe that I was the best). Hadn’t it been my input—my problem solving skill—at all those design and production meetings that got the first tera-bit nanoprocessor prototypes off the ground eight years ago? That skill that had allowed me to take early retirement, buy a busted up relic of a boat, and have her afloat in just three years?

This was going to be like getting back to work after a long vacation: just identify the problems and come up with solutions. Balance the micro and macro, anticipate reactions before taking action, and keep the end goal in mind at all times. Easy as pie.

With the mini panic attack averted, I headed straight for the food. Lulani got up from the couch and followed, silently. Her expression was so matter-of-fact that it was getting a little creepy. I’d made her my naked, live-in servant and soon-to-be sex slave, and she had no reaction on her face whatsoever.

“Tell me what you’ve made,” I said.

“Curried corned beef, potatoes and cabbage, and baked papaya with coconut cream in the oven.”

“I’m going to ask you some questions now, answer honestly and completely. Did you take all of this food from your parents’ house?”

“Yes.”

“Are they going to be short on food for themselves?”

“No, there’s plenty of food since the rest of people on the island left. We grow some, and gather some, and we make enough copra from the island’s coconuts for Papa to take every couple months to trade for other things.”

“Do they need you there to help make the copra?”

“No, my brothers and sisters are old enough now to help as much as I do.”

Good enough for now. I fell on the food almost with desperation, I felt so hungry. Three helpings later, I thought I might get sick if I ate another bite, so I relaxed on the couch. Lulani sat next to me in all of her naked glory, and I could feel myself getting hard as one appetite was appeased, and another took its place.

I looked at the book Lulani had been reading. It was an old travelogue written by a man who’d sailed around the South Seas in the 1850s. I had it on my tablet as well, fully indexed and cross-referenced, but I’d always liked real books.

“Why did you choose this book?”

“When there’s no work to do, my normal behavior is to find entertainment. First I tried to turn on the vid panel, then the satradio, but neither of them is working. Then I tried to find a book that related to my normal behavior, but didn’t find any. Then I chose this book because it has a yellow cover, and my normal behavior is to prefer things that are yellow over other colors.”

“So you weren’t interested in the subject?”

“No. With no other options in my hierarchy of normal behavior, I chose based on color.”

There was that term again. “Lulani, why is normal behavior so important to you? Explain in detail.”

“Since the time that the Chrxjthal first addressed the people of Earth, we have been commanded to resort to normal behavior. We follow normal behavior unless commanded to deviate from normal. All of the behavior that I engaged in before the Awakening has determined what is normal for me, unless it has anything to do with war or conflict. Any behavior involving war or conflict is prohibited. I need my normal behavior to interact with that of my Harmonious Brothers and Sisters in a way that benefits all without causing conflict. If I see a potential conflict between my normal behavior and that of another, we must question each other, and try to adjust our behaviors to work in harmony. If we are unable to agree on a harmonious adjustment, we must contact the nearest Arbiter, and that being will provide a change in normal behavior for both parties.”

The rote way that she recited everything made me think that this was the core of the aliens’ programming. If you’d just mind-zapped 8.7 billion people, you couldn’t just tell them to stop everything and follow your alien plan. If everyone suddenly stopped working, or producing, most of the planet would be dead within two weeks from lacks of water, power, and food. A better plan, if you were an alien race with a purpose for this barbarian planet, is to simply have everyone continue with “business as usual” until you can get your plan implemented.

Jeffrey had mentioned that all military personnel were being given a “special project,” which was probably the aliens’ long-term goal for the planet. In the meantime, everyone else was supporting them, by living in an endless loop of repetitive actions.

All of the behavior changes—The Awakening seemed to be the propaganda name they’d provided—happened after the aliens’ broadcast to the world, so it was logical to assume that the medium for capturing people’s minds was electronic. I’d bet that the world-enveloping net of metallic eggs was the first induction. Jeffrey mentioned that the instant the mesh was complete, there had been a loud screech and several flashes of the vid screen. People were told to watch or listen to electronic media as often as possible, most likely so the aliens could reinforce their control, or provide updated instructions. I would need to figure out how their messages were passed on electronically before I could allow any media to be played in my presence.

“Have you seen any flashes or heard any noises like the ones that you experienced in the shelter on the day the Chr…the aliens came to Earth?”

“Yes, every eight days since that day. I anticipate that they will return again on the next eighth day.”

“What do you mean return?”

“The ships that appeared before. They leave Earth and go to a place between us, and the sun, for eight days. Then they return to the sky, and we watch the vid broadcast. It flashes like it did the first time, and makes that loud sound.”

So the ships probably go outside the atmosphere to recharge for eight days, and then return to blast the Earth with another wave of mind control. “Lulani, your normal behavior now prohibits you from using any electronic media or data devices while I am within 30 meters of you. Say yes if you understand.”

“Yes,” she replied. So now, if I were careful, I wouldn’t be suddenly mind-fucked by her turning on the vid or the satradio. I realized that I had dodged a bullet yesterday, since if her family had been playing a modern satradio instead of a chip player when I stumbled upon them, I would have been exposed. The thought made me shudder involuntarily.

While we were talking, I was unabashedly watching her tits move up and down with her breathing. Now, with a lull in the conversation, I flashed back to the brief but wonderful blowjob I’d received last night. I really wanted to fuck this beautiful teen, but with all of this “normal behavior” bullshit planted in her brain, I felt like it would take dozens, maybe even hundreds of detailed commands to get her to be anything other than a blow-up doll.

If I hadn’t just eaten enough food for three normal people, I might have gone with the blow-up doll, at least once. But right now I was content with digesting my food on the couch, while my problem solving brain went into action.

In the early stages of a problem, I use distractions of my conscious mind to let my subconscious roam free in search of a solution. Normally that would involve several hours with my WiiStationX and Call of Duty 2K3X4, but there was no way I was turning on an electronic device today. Instead, I reached into a drawer in the side table, and pulled out a deck of cards.

Lulani knew how to play Gin, so after I told her this was part of her normal behavior, she sat across from me on the couch and we played for almost two hours. The first thirty minutes or so weren’t very productive for me, because the way that she sat, with one leg tucked under her and the other dangling off the edge, gave me an unobstructed view of her virgin slit and the dark curls that surrounded it. Eventually I was able to focus more on the game than on her hairy pussy and her firm mocha tits, but that first little bit was a struggle.

I didn’t get any brilliant revelations during those two hours. What I did get was sudden stomach cramps, followed by explosive diarrhea. I guess eating a ton of exotic island food, after six days of enforced fasting, worked some special magic on my digestion. I was in the shower soon after that, soaking in the warm spray, when at least part of an idea hit me. Feeling so good about having even the start of a plan, I decided to celebrate just a little. I leaned out of the shower and shouted through the head door, “Lulani, come into the head…uh…into the bathroom.”

When I rebuilt the Survivor, I doubled the size of the head, since I’m a big guy—188cm and 97.5kg. I couldn’t do much about the ceiling height, but the shower stall was wide enough for me to move around freely. Couple that with the de-sal unit and the on-demand water heater, and I had unlimited hot shower potential. Not that I ever cranked the temperature up to hot—I was sailing in the tropics after all. Anyway, the shower was a good size for me alone, but pleasantly tight for two.

After a couple more commands, Lulani’s sleek, wet body was rubbing up and down against me. She was stroking her soapy hands over my back in an attempt to “wash” me, as part of her new normal behavior. I was, of course, returning the favor, running my wet hands all over her smooth skin, caressing her sides, her ass, running up her torso, and lingering over her large, firm, breasts. Her nipples were standing up proudly as I kneaded her globes and gently pinched her nubs between my thumb and fingers.

“Lulani, answer my question. Did you ever kiss your father on the mouth when you were seeing to his ‘needs?’” She shook her head and returned to soaping my shoulders and arms. “Did you kiss your sister while you were touching her?” She nodded. OK, I can work with that. “Lulani, your new normal behavior is to kiss me while we are touching each other, like you did with your sister.”

The beautiful teen girl tilted her head back, stood up on her toes, wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me a hard, passionate kiss. I grabbed her ass cheeks and pulled her into me, my hard cock pressing against her belly. Her mouth opened, and her agile little tongue started exploring my lips, teeth, and tongue. We stood there for a while, swapping kisses, while my hands continued exploring her backside.

I guess her normal behavior included getting turned on by kissing, because eventually her breathing changed as her body took over. Her hands grasped and pulled at my neck, while her lower belly hunched back and forth against my trapped erection. My hands were more active as well. I brought one up to squeeze and rub her tits, while the other dipped into the wet, slippery crack of her ass. I rubbed up and down her cleft, lightly swirling my wet fingers over her rosebud. I dipped lower, and lower, until I felt her soft curls and the open folds of her pussy.

The position I was in was awkward and I couldn’t reach much without breaking our kiss, so I left her backside, and snaked my arm around her front and down to cup her entire mound. I immediately teased one finger into her pussy, and mashed the heel of my palm into her clit, making tiny circular motions. She groaned into my mouth as I started sliding my middle finger back and forth in her slit, while the surrounding fingers massaged her inner and outer pussy lips. The water streaming down our bodies, and her own natural juices made her as slick as if she was doused in oil.

When I moved my thumb up to press her clit again, she gasped and broke our kiss. She dropped down off her tip-toes, and put one hand on the wall to keep her balance. She looked down at where my hand disappeared into her furred crotch, grabbed my waist with her free hand, and started thrusting her hips back and forth, seeking even more stimulation.

I thought I’d try something. “Lulani, normal behavior for you is to feel my touch on your bibi with twice the sensitivity and twice the pleasure as when you touch yourself. Say yes if you understand.”

“Yeeeessss…” she gasped and started pistoning her hips even faster against my hand.

I was careful the whole time my hand was rubbing her slit, to not press too hard on her still-intact hymen. I could feel it just inside the entrance of her vagina, and I wanted to use something a little more intimate than a finger when it came time. The way she was gasping and clutching at me, I’m not sure she would have even noticed me piercing her maidenhead, but I would protect her from her own passion. For now.

One of her hands, as it slid up and down my body, came into contact with my erect cock, and I made a gasp of my own as she latched onto it like a small, wet vise. She started pumping her hand up and down my shaft like a machine, and suddenly the race was on to see who could make the other cum first. Not that it was a competition; I just thought that I had been in control of this dance until suddenly her tiny, slippery fist had me on the brink.

I plucked her hand away from my cock just before I wasted my cum down the shower drain. I backed her up against the shower wall, pinned both of her petite hands over her head with one of my much larger ones, and leaned back down to resume our kiss. Meanwhile, my other hand doubled its efforts; pressing and rubbing and sliding, up and down and around her furry little cunt. She was moaning constantly, and hunching against my hand faster and faster until she finally hit her peak.

She screamed into my mouth, as her entire body started trembling. Her knees gave out, and if I hadn’t been holding her up by her hands and crotch she would have slumped to the floor of the shower. I released her hands, snaked my arm around her waist, and held her to me while her body spasmed through her release. I pulled my other hand away from her now over-sensitive pussy, and grabbed her ass to keep her pressed to me.

Eventually, all of the trembling aftershocks subsided, and I was holding her panting body in my arms, the warm water of the shower cascading over both of us.

When her breathing became more normal, and her legs were able to support her, I stepped back and gave my little teenage island toy a smile. She returned it briefly, then took up the soap, and resumed her task of washing me. “Lulani, stop,” I said gently. She stood there passively, water streaming down her body, waiting for her next command. I considered all of the ways that I could continue this little scenario, then remembered one of the things she had told me earlier.

I turned off the water, and grabbed a big, soft towel from the rack outside the door. We stepped out of the shower, and I dried every centimeter of her smooth brown skin, before handing the towel to her so she could see to her hair. While I dried myself off with another towel, Lulani rubbed her long hair as dry as she could, then wrapped it up in the towel, like a terrycloth turban on top of her head. I spotted the bag of toiletries that she had brought from home, on the vanity counter, and searched through it for a moment. Finding what I was looking for, I led Lulani to the forward cabin, and had her lay down on the bed.

I straddled her hips, with my hard cock lying on her stomach. I lifted the bottle of lotion I’d grabbed from her kit, and squirted swirly lines of white goo all over her tits and abdomen. She flinched at the cold lotion hitting her skin, but otherwise lay there unmoving. I dropped the bottle, and started massaging the cream into her skin. The warm, floral scent of her lotion enveloped us, driving away the harsher citrus and mint of men’s soap. I started at her hips, smoothing the cream into the soft skin of her belly, dipping my finger in and out of her bellybutton suggestively a time or two before moving up her abdomen to her ribs.

I cupped both her tits, and squeezed, and pulled, and rubbed the slippery lotion into the firm flesh, working my way up the slopes to their crests. Her nipples were puckered brown peaks at the top of each mound. I gathered some lotion from parts I hadn’t reached yet with my massage, and placed a dollop on top of each nipple before rubbing and squeezing to work it in thoroughly. Lulani’s breath was coming faster, and her hands were grasping the sheets in growing excitement, but I was being selfish this time.

Rubbing all of that soft flesh and squeezing those firm tits had me rock hard. I sat up and scooted forward on my knees until the tip of my stiff cock was right over her lips. “Suck me, Lulani,” I said. Her mouth opened and her tongue slithered out to lick the underside of my cock. Her hand reached up and began to stroke my shaft, but I quickly pulled it away. I took both of her arms and tucked them to her sides, trapping them in place with my legs as I straddled her chest. I then grasped my cock by the base, and slid it around her lips, across her lively tongue, and around her cheeks and neck. I was painting her skin with the fluid leaking out of the tip. She turned her head everywhere to follow my cock, trying to kiss or lick as much as she could get to.

I hunched forward and back, letting her lick all the way from the tip to the base. I tried dangling my balls in her mouth, but she avoided them and tried to get back to my cock. I guess her father hadn’t put sucking his balls into her “normal behavior.” I didn’t have time to straighten it out at the moment, but I would have to fix that at some point.

After a thorough tonguing of my dick, I used a couple fingers to pull down on her chin, getting her mouth to open wide. I aimed my missile, and slid into her open mouth. I didn’t go too far at first, but I was moving in and out with a purpose. I went deeper and deeper on each stroke, until I felt her first gagging reflex. Her tongue was dancing everywhere on me, and her lips had locked tight, creating a wonderful suction.

Although her upper arms were pinned to her sides by my legs, Lulani was still able to lift her hands from underneath and grab my butt. She started pushing on my ass, trying to stuff more of my cock into her mouth. I let her take control for a while, following her lead by letting her shove my swollen dick even further into her mouth. Eventually, though, the sensations became too intense and I had to pull back. I had a different ending in mind for this session.

I sat back on my haunches, letting my cock pop out of her mouth, and trace a wet trail down her chin, her chest, and finally settle between her coffee colored tits. Letting it rest there, I picked up the bottle of lotion again, and squeezed a generous stream of it all over her soft tit flesh, and the iron bar of my cock.

Lulani had said that this was one of the ways she used to get her father off, and I hadn’t had a good tit-fuck in a while. She must have realized what I wanted because she struggled to release her arms from under me. I shifted to allow her arms to get free, and she immediately pressed her tits together, sandwiching my rod between them. I pressed forward, and the tip of my cock, liberally coated in white lotion, peeked out from between her dark hills. I retreated back into the cave between her tits, leaving a trail of lotion, spit, and pre-cum where I had been. The sensation around my cock was unbelievable. Her skin was silky-soft as it glided back and forth along my shaft. The firmness of her young tits meant that the pressure of her hands pushing them together was creating a tightness that I had never experienced before. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back in delight as I entered and withdrew from that hot, elastic pressure.

When I looked back down, Lulani had her head raised, and was looking down her nose at the place where the swollen purple head of my cock emerged and withdrew from between her dusky tits. At the end of every upstroke, she extended her tongue, trying to taste my leaking cockhead. I smiled at seeing this, and thrust farther forward on each stroke so she could make contact. It was amazing how much of my engorged crown she could reach with her lightning-fast tongue before I pulled it out of reach.

I knew her neck must be straining by now, so I pulled her towel-turban off, then grabbed the back of her head and held it in place. I reached my other hand behind me and found her still-damp pussy. I started making circles on her clit as I thrust my cock into the tight, smooth second pussy that she had created between her mounds. She started to gasp between thrusts of her tongue, and her hips bucked up, seeking my touch, every time I pushed forward.

My hips became a blur as I jacked myself between her tits. Lulani was pinching her nipples as she pressed her flesh around my cock. With my command that she be twice as sensitive to my touch, she was almost at her peak as I fingered her clit. And I could feel my own pressure building, telling me I was almost there.

Finally, I curled my fingers into Lulani’s hair to hold her head in place. I thrust one last time between her tits, and let go with a rocket-shot of pearly cum that hit her under her chin, and dripped down to pool at her neck. More shots followed, some reaching her face, others coating her upper chest. I grunted with each spasm, and watched each spurt color her dark skin with a white, iridescent rope.

With each surge from my cock, I also pressed in on Lulani’s clit, and before the fifth pearl in her gooey cum necklace landed, she was thrusting her ass off the bed, and shaking in the throes of her own climax.

After a little while, I slipped to the side, my slimy cock leaving a trail down Lulani’s ribs. Her chest was a sloppy mess of cum, lotion, sweat, and spit that looked incredibly hot. While she was catching her breath, I reached over and started massaging all of the combined fluids into her soft skin. Her tits flopped up and down as I rubbed her new body lotion over everything I could reach, from her neck to her belly.

I was exhausted, and started to drift off to sleep. I felt Lulani get up off the bed, and a minute later I heard the shower start. I guess normal behavior for her didn’t include cum as a moisturizer…

I jolted awake from my nap, and found Lulani lying on the bed next to me. She seemed to be watching me. Her face was beautiful, but her gaze was blank, and I realized that she was waiting for another command. I needed to find some way to get her off this “normal behavior” compulsion, so that she could start using her own initiative.

I got her up and sent her to make dinner, but told her to make it bland for me, at least until my stomach settled down.

I went to he head to rinse off the residue of our little play session. As I was patting down my damp hair in the mirror, I suddenly came back to the thought that had woken me up with such a start: ”I anticipate they will return again on the next eighth day,” she had said earlier. If the aliens appeared on day one, and every eight days after that, their next zapping of the planet would happen on day 49. It was now day 47 since I went into the shelter. That means I had two days to prepare for the next round.

Of course I would ride out this latest event in the shelter as well. I would bring Lulani with me, both for company, and to keep her from being reprogrammed back to “factory default.” The event itself only lasted for seconds, but to be safe, I planned on spending the entire day inside, with the door secure. This time though, I knew what conditions were inside the shelter, and I would have enough food, clothing, and light to make it comfortable.

I realized that if I was going to survive on this conquered planet, I needed more information about everything the aliens were doing, starting with how they were mind-controlling the populace. From the grid they created, and the massive expenditure of power that they put into every pulse, the initial signal sounded like it must be electromagnetic, but not on a frequency that would permanently damage electronic devices. It must be tuned specifically to the wavelengths of the human brain, with a unique purpose of overwriting connections rather than burning out the neural pathways.

I was an electrical engineer, not a neurologist, so I would have to approach this from the tech end, not the brain end. I needed to record the signals that the aliens transmitted, and find a way to counter them.

I also suspected that they used electronic media, such as vid, phone, and radio, to transmit instructions. If the EM wave opened up a portal into the brain, the media transmission must be using that as the interface for control. I wasn’t sure what kind of code they were using to rewrite human behavior, but I could learn how to recognize it, and maybe strip it out.

I started with my satphone. Long ago, I’d had a friend hack the mandatory GPS signal so it looked like I jumped to some random place around the world every 30 seconds or so. This was normally enough to get me some privacy, while avoiding the mandatory fines the government imposed for disabling the chip. I hoped it was enough to keep me hidden from whatever form of electronic surveillance the aliens were using. I quick-charged the battery and loaded it in. When I started it up, I made sure to go directly into setup mode to make sure no media would play automatically.

I assumed that the brainwashing signals were both visual and auditory, since you couldn’t count on any one sense covering everyone on the planet. That means I would have to analyze both channels of a media transmission, and look for differences between that data, and a clean transmission of the same file. Fortunately for me, I had several old Bruce Willis movies on my phone that I’d downloaded from WaChit before the aliens arrived. If I could get the same movies in their current mind-controlling version, I could analyze the differences, electron by electron.

To do that I would have to fire up the onboard computer, which had a lot more processing power, plus the software I needed, and an extensive on-chip library. I folded the onboard’s console down from the bulkhead between the galley and the main cabin. As it booted, I again went into setup, and disabled any external connections, cloud accounts, and satellite uplinks. I also disabled the external speakers so I wouldn’t accidentally play a corrupted audio track.

I placed my phone on the console to access its memory, and copied my downloaded versions of Die Hard and The Last Boy Scout to my onboard storage.

Now for the tricky part. I would have to get Lulani to download the corrupted versions of those two movies—while not viewing them myself, or exposing myself to electronic surveillance—and hope that she didn’t get new instructions from Alien Central that would undo anything I’d already done to her brain.

I asked her if she’d ever used WaChit before, and of course, being a teenage girl, she was very familiar with it. I wrote down the movie titles, then commanded her to return home, download those vids to her home system, and copy them to my satphone. She would then turn off the phone and take out the battery, before gathering some more food for us, and returning to the boat.

I watched her lovely backside, resheathed in her yellow dress, walk away from me to complete her errand, then returned to the cabin. I needed to refresh myself on EM generation and manipulation techniques. Fortunately, I had the text of several excellent books in permanent storage on my system, so I didn’t have to risk outside communication.

Some time later, I heard Lulani coming down the ladder from the deck. She was wearing a new dress, in a different shade of yellow, and carrying a canvas bag. I waited to see what she would do next. The instructions I’d given her were a test of how her “order of operations” was set up. I had directed her to put away the food when she returned, but I hadn’t told her to give me back my phone.

She went to the galley, and unloaded the food. She then stripped off her new dress, and her yellow, flowered panties, folded them carefully, and carried them into the forward cabin. She returned to galley, wonderfully graceful, bouncy, and nude. She then took my phone and battery out of the bag, placed them on the counter, folded the bag, and tucked it in a drawer. As her instructions ran out, she came into the main cabin, sat on the couch, and looked at me, waiting for new directions.

She’d done everything exactly as I had predicted. I was getting closer to understanding how the alien influence affected human actions.

I picked up my phone and the battery from the counter, then sat next to her on the couch. I grilled her extensively about any changes she felt. I tried to remember every time I’d changed her “normal behavior,” and asked her if those commands were still in place. After a battery of questions, it seemed that her exposure to the WaChit site hadn’t caused any abrupt changes.

Putting the battery back in my phone, I loaded the corrupted copies of the movies to my onboard system and started running a signal comparison between them. Sure enough, almost immediately I could see that there was extra data in both the vid and audio tracks of the new files. I set my software to strip out the new signals, and check them for any patterns or repetition, then let it get to work.

I ate a quick meal of Spam and potatoes, then returned to my analysis. Lulani, after cleaning up from dinner, was standing in the galley, naked and beautiful, but obviously clueless about what to do next. I thought again about how I needed to get her off the normal behavior routine in her brain, since it destroyed any spontaneity, or potential to learn. I promised myself that I would spend our time in the shelter trying to free her mind—at least from alien control. For now, I gave her my phone and let her watch the uncorrupted version of Die Hard with headphones in.

I continued working until about 9:00, when my eyes started to get tired. Lulani was done with her movie, and I asked her about it.

“It was an old vid,” she shrugged.

“But did you like it?”

“I don’t remember.”

So. It seems that even if someone’s normal behavior is to watch vids at night, none of the content of those vids actually sticks in their memory unless, probably, they’d seen it before. If left alone, Lulani and her family would learn nothing new; their pool of knowledge would be frozen at what they already knew when the aliens came. It apparently locked in their current knowledge as their “normal behavior”, and unless there was a conflict between their behavior and someone else’s, there would never be any reason to add new knowledge or skills to the mix. Under this alien mind control, Lulani’s four year old brother would never learn any more than what he knew right now, even when he was twenty.

These aliens were clever; one of my ideas had been to hijack the vid channels and transmit conflicting commands to everyone in an attempt to break the system. But it looks like the only way to get new content to everyone is through the embedded MC messages, and I didn’t know the code.

I needed sleep to let my mind sort things out; I would tackle everything fresh in the morning. I thought about going another round with Lulani before bed, but honestly, I was too tired to do what was necessary to break her in so I could take her virginity. And right now, if I couldn’t fuck her properly, the other options seemed less appealing than a good night’s sleep. I did change her normal behavior to always sleep cuddled up with me, and to wake me at 6:00 am with a blowjob.

Curled up around her warm, naked flesh, with my hard cock pressed into her ass crack, and my hand full of her firm tit, I drifted to sleep…

Long ago, I had a girlfriend who was much more of a morning person than me, and had taken it upon herself to wake me up every day with her wet mouth on my hard cock. So, the sensations I felt the next morning were not new to me, they were a return to a more pleasurable time in my life. A time before aliens and worldwide mind control.

Lulani’s hair was tickling my stomach and legs as she moved her head up and down over my hard staff. The dark, silky curtain hid any visuals of what was happening, but that was fine; I’d learned long ago to lay back and focus on the sensations rather than the view.

Her technique was basic, but enthusiastic. This was all “normal behavior” that she had learned by servicing her father before the aliens came. She used one hand to jack the base of my cock, while the other fondled and caressed my balls. She would sink my shaft into her warm wet mouth, and suck hungrily one minute, then pull off and nibble and lick up and down the sides the next. I noticed, though, that she never got more than half way down my length; never challenging herself to take me deeper.

“Lulani,” I said. Unfortunately, she lifted her head to look at me. “Your new normal behavior while sucking on my cock will now include taking me as deep into your throat as you can. You will not gag when I hit the back of your throat, and you will open your throat to take my cock all the way to the root. You will add this technique to the variety of things you do when you suck on my koko.”

OK, I thought, let’s see how well that works. I was interested to see if a mind control command could overwhelm a natural reaction like Lulani’s gag reflex.

She was back to work now, flicking her tongue rapidly back and forth on the sensitive underside of my cockhead, while locking her lips around the shaft and sucking hungrily. Then her mouth popped off, and she was nibbling softly at the side of my shaft, while her spit-lubed hand worked up and down. A moment later, I got the answer to my question as she aimed my hard cock straight up, opened her mouth wide, and thrust her head down strongly. As the swollen crown hit the back of her throat, she paused briefly to inhale. Then, with a swallowing motion—and no sign of gagging or discomfort—she descended smoothly until her lips ringed the base of my tool.

Having the end of my cock squeezed and massaged by her virgin throat had me groaning, and involuntarily thrusting upward to see if I could drive it even deeper. She held me deep for several seconds, before backing off enough to breathe. Then she swallowed me again. She backed off briefly, but only a couple of centimeters, before thrusting her head down again. And back up. And down. Without being told specifically to do it, she was fucking her throat with my cock, and I felt my balls stirring from all the sensation.

Eventually, she pulled off, breathing heavily, but not stopping her ministrations. Her lips, her hands, her teeth, her tongue, and now her throat, combined to quickly bring me to the edge.

“Swallow it,” I groaned, as I started firing thick spurts of cum into her mouth. She sank her mouth down on me, and I finished cumming directly down her throat.

I sighed, and lay back on my pillow, savoring the afterglow of a great morning blow. Lulani had finished her task, and moved up to lay next to me, looking at me with her emotionless “waiting for command” stare.

I felt a bit guilty that she hadn’t gotten anything out of this morning’s activity. After all, she wasn’t really a sex slave whose only job was giving me pleasure. She really had no emotional involvement with me at all, other than the fact that she had accepted me as someone who could command her. Until I could get rid of her “normal behavior” fixation, she’d never be more than a robot.

I’d work on that later; maybe while we were in the shelter tomorrow. For today, I needed to set up all of my equipment to record whatever I could when the ships returned.