The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Mrs. Parker-Smith was being probed by aliens.

The elderly widow lay naked, strapped to a strangely-shaped table, while her examiners stood above her speaking in their incomprehensible alien language.

<Heh, heh, this always gets ‘em,> said the shorter one, a grey-skinned hairless creature with thin limbs, a large, bulbous head, and big, dark, almond-shaped eyes. It held up a rodlike instrument, a meter long and as thick as Mrs. Parker-Smith’s wrist. It made sure she saw the device, then reached under the “examining table” they had her strapped to, and placed the tip at the opening of her rectum. Her eyes widened.

<We’re not here to get your jollies, we’re here to get this ‘Smith’ to cough up our payment,> replied the taller one, a thin insectoid creature that looked like an enormous beetle in a tweed suit. <Besides, Smith’s an off-worlder, not one of these sheltered natives; he’s probably seen every perversion you can dream up. Hell, he’s from the Imperial sector—he’s probably done them all.>

<She,> replied the short one. <I’m pretty sure this one’s a she.>

<You know, mammalian xenobiology really doesn’t interest me,> said the tall one impatiently. <Getting my payment does.> It switched to English. “So, Smith, where’s my money?”

Mrs. Parker-Smith fainted.

Gina’s inspection of the sheep pen, a reluctant Greg in tow, was interrupted when two people in suits, a man and a woman, came over the hill.

“Hello!” the man called. “Is this your farm?”

“No, we just thought it looked quaint and we stopped to take a closer look,” Gina replied.

“Yeah, just looking. Not doing anything unnatural... with the sheep or anything,” Greg added. Gina stepped on his foot.

“Well, that’s a relief. Jock Miller, FBI.” He held out his hand. His handshake lingered a bit long while he grinned at Gina, until she irritatedly pulled her hand away. He went on to cling to Greg’s hand.

“Diana Sealey, his partner,” the woman said, the last with a sharp look at Jock as she nudged him out of the way to introduce herself.

“So... you didn’t happen to see a UFO go by while you were here, did you?” asked Agent Miller.

“Uh, no, no we didn’t,” Gina replied. “Why do you ask?”

“There’s an unusual series of circular formations in the field over there, and such formations have been theorized to be associated with UFO landing sites.” He pointed back over the hill as he talked.

“Crop circles? I thought those were done by some college guys as a prank. Didn’t they come clean a few years ago, and show how they’d made them with some boards and string?” Gina said.

“Oh. I guess this isn’t an alien artifact, then.” A disappointed-looking Agent Miller held up a collection of 2x4’s strung together with rope.

“I told you alien artifacts don’t have price tags from the local hardware store,” his partner spoke up. “Uh, we’ll be going now. Thanks for your time.”

“I recommend this sheep. She’s got a nice personality,” Agent Miller said, pointing into the pen before turning to walk away.

“Come on, Miller,” his partner called.

“I’m coming, I’m coming...”

John Park was a much better lover when Sandra was making the moves.

Unfortunately, Sandra couldn’t remember how bad he’d been before, due to the mind-control ray, and the improvement wasn’t enough to make him actually good. After she’d wrestled him to the floor in the entryway, he had groped her enthusiastically before coming after being inside her for only a few strokes. Then he almost immediately fell asleep.

Last night must have worn him out, the poor boy, Sandra thought, rolling his snoring, drooling face off of her breast and puzzling momentarily over a strange sense of deja-vu. Well, he can make up for it later. I’m going to fuck him again and again! She grinned.

His softening cock slid out of her as she moved him over, and a shiver ran through her. I just wish he’d had time to finish what he started! she thought, putting a hand on her tingling pussy and letting her fingers settle gently where she liked them best. She was all opened-up and slick with his cum, not like masturbating in the shower, but already so hot... She closed her eyes and pressed her hips up into her hand.

Then the front door opened, and John’s roommate walked in.

Mr. Anders Haversson’s house was shaped like a flying saucer.

As Imperial Galactic Police Agent Zaral Felt walked up the front steps, he saw a hand-lettered sign reading “Space Aliens Welcome!” on the front door. I’ve heard of this, Felt thought. He’s come to identify with his captors. The abduction must have been a very traumatic experience for him.

The doorbell rang an abstract five-note theme, and Felt waited patiently to learn if Mr. Haversson was in. After a few moments, the door slid sideways into the wall, revealing a portly mountain of a man. “Nanoo, nanoo!” the man said cheerfully.

“Um, hi,” Felt replied.

“The most horrible thing about this particular device,” Princess Thrrmm lectured, “is that it feels so good.”

“Hmm,” replied her star-pilot lover Deke distractedly, staring into a mirror on the wall. Like everyone else in the room, each for their own reasons, he wasn’t entirely paying attention to the Princess’s speech. In his case, it was due to a posthypnotic suggestion that everything he saw and heard was pefectly ordinary and unremarkable and he would remember none of it. So he kept up a steady stream of “Mm-hmm”s and “Uh-huh”s while attending to his morning shave.

His primitive electromechanical shaving device, an affectation the Princess found charmingly quaint, was attached by a long cord to a plug in the sex-robot Genari’s power receptacle. The robot herself lay naked on the floor, legs spread for the power cord, back arched, eyes closed, repeating quietly over and over, “I will not interrupt a torture scene. I will not interrupt a torture scene...” Occasionally she shuddered.

The being closest to being a target for Princess Thrrmm’s received wisdom was hanging upside-down from the wall, her naked bluish-grey body half engulfed by the fleshy, writhing tentacles of the device Thrrmm lovingly described. The captive also had her eyes closed, and appeared to be panting and shuddering uncontrollably.

“It’s terribly disorienting,” the Princess continued, lecturing to her inattentive audience. “It’s taboo and wonderful, painful and delightful, overwhelming you with sensations until you don’t even know if you need it to continue or need it to stop, can’t tell up from down or yourself from the world...”

The Princess stepped closer to the wall, leaning to put her lips next to the captive’s ear. With a gesture, she halted the tentacles’ movement. The prisoner immediately began to shiver violently, whimpering.

“Tell me your name,” the Princess said softly.

The bound female’s shivers became even more violent, her whimpers louder and less coherent.

The Princess reached a delicate hand up between the tentacles that wrapped her captive’s inner thighs. “Say your name,” she whispered, and touched gently.

“NEELA! NEELA! NEELA!” the captive screamed, body clenching and thrashing as far as the ropes and tentacles would allow. “NEELA! NEELA! NEELA! NEELA! NEELA! NEELA! ...”

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” the Princess purred with satisfaction.

“Mm-hm,” Deke replied absently.

John Smith, alien spymaster (alias Frrbnglrr), was not entirely without resources.

For one thing, his patron Princess Thrrmm’s wealth and status gave him access to state-of-the-art scanning equipment, far better than backwater thugs or even the Galactic Police had regular use of. He hadn’t expected to need it on this mission, but had brought it with him anyway because he liked the blinky lights.

It couldn’t track down the mind-control device for him, but it could tell him the number and location of offworld ships on the planet. One of them was sure to be the smugglers he’d contacted; he could meet with them directly, explain that the device had not made it into his hands, and work out a plan for finding it.

And THEN I can enslave the annoying human woman and give her a permanent craving for carnal relations with native mammalian quadrupeds! he thought furiously. And make her go out of her way to fuck them in open, busy public places! And visit on her ten times the humiliation of her DAMNED BLACKMAIL...

For the third time in a day, Smith came into the emblem of his humiliation, Gina’s inflatable sheep.

It took some laying-about with the mind-control ray for John Park to smooth over the scene caused by his roommate walking in to find Sandra masturbating on the floor of the front hallway next to John’s sleeping, mostly-naked body.

Fortunately he was able to find the raygun after only a little digging through the empty pizza-boxes in his room. His roommate was sent out on an all-night errand with a command not to notice anything unusual at the house in the future, and Sandra simply made to forget the whole unfortunate incident.

Afterwards, he decided Sandra should give him a blowjob. This was someting neither of them had any experience with, but Sandra caught on quickly, and John was gratifyingly easy to get off. It was probably the best sex they’d had yet.

Mr. Anders Haversson had been abducted by a lot of aliens, it seemed.

Most of them were species Galactic Police Agent Zaral Felt had never heard of, flying ships he didn’t recognize. The only thing they all had in common was their propensity for anal probes.

In fact, as they sat together in Mr. Haversson’s living room, Anders on a big thronelike metal easy chair with buttons and blinky lights all along the arms, and Agent Felt on a grey flying-saucer-shaped loveseat, the man’s lavish descriptions of anal penetration started to get to Felt. Give it a rest, I’ve gone without for days now, Felt thought, squirming a bit in his seat.

“Oh, I’m sorry ma’am, I didn’t mean to offend you,” Mr. Haversson said, with standard human misreading of Agent Felt’s gender.

“No, no, that’s all right,” Felt replied. “But, ah... after the huge, steel instrument covered in slick, warm conductive jelly slid into your naked, exposed ass as you lay strapped to the examining table, unable to cry out or stop it from driving deeper, and deeper inside you, ah... um,” Felt licked his lips, “what happened then?”

I’ve got a box of toys stashed back at my temporary base of operations, what the humans call my ‘apartment.’ Felt thought, half-listening as the man’s narrative continued. I wonder how fast I can get there, when this interview is over?

“... and they control my mind with these rays they beam to an implant in my brain,” Mr. Haversson was saying.

Agent Felt was suddenly alert. “What sort of implant?” he asked.

“I don’t know, I’ve never seen it. But it’s under the skin, right here,” the man said, pointing to the back of his neck. “Can you feel it?”

Felt touched the indicated spot. There might have been a lump there, he wasn’t sure. “Interesting. Well, thank you, Mr. Haversson, I think I have enough to go on for now. Can I call on you again in a few days, if I think of some more questions?”

“Sure, sure thing! You said you’re with the World News Weekly?”

“Um, that’s where I got the lead. But I’m a bit more, um, independent...”

“Freelance, sure, I understand. Well, thanks for listening to me, Sarah, it’s great to talk to someone who actually believes me! The truth is out there!”

“Ah, yep. Thank you, Mr. Haversson.” Felt was already muttering to his Ship over his communicator as he stepped out the front door and onto the porch. “Ship, you got all that? I’ll need a personal scanner transported down here to take a look at that implant device. And some surgical gear to remove it, if it does turn out to be part of the mind-control setup.”

“You are planning to abduct Mr. Haversson and perform a medical examination?” the Ship replied.

“Don’t get smart with me. I—”

“Pardon me, ma’am. Is this your residence?”

Zaral looked up to see a man in a dark suit walking towards the house. “Uh, no, I was just leaving.”

“Agent Jock Miller, FBI.” The man held out his hand.

“Zaral Felt,” Agent Felt replied, taking it.

The man’s grip was firm and lingering, and he smiled at Zaral invitingly as he held it. “Pleased to meet you, Sarah,” he said, still holding Felt’s hand.

He was pretty cute. And Zaral was still horny from the near-pornographic abduction stories he’d been listening to all morning. He found himself smiling shyly in return.

“You were headed back to the temporary base?” the Ship prompted in his ear.

Felt recovered his hand and started walking again. “Uh, I have to go,” he muttered to Agent Miller, with the hint of a blush.

Agent Miller turned to watch Felt walk away, until his partner came up beside him. “Will you keep your mind on the case for once?” she asked irritably.

With a shrug, Agent Miller turned and headed up the walk towards Mr. Haversson’s unique dwelling.

Stumbling back to her dorm room in the morning, Sandra found Gina already away at class. “Oh, right, class. Omigod, class! I missed... well, I guess it’s too late for String Theory, but then I have lunch, so there’s some time. I’ll have to find out what I missed. What I missed for... ooh, a wonderful fuck. I’m going to fuck him again and again!” she muttered to herself, turning the last into a little song as she poked about the room looking for some food.

Seizing on some yogurt in their small dorm-room fridge, Sandra started shucking her clothing as she ate, and pulling some more acceptable classroom wear out of her drawers. I’d still love to get it on with John and another chick, she thought, —‘chick,’ ha, listen to me! Well, listen to me think... nobody can do that, can they? Nevermind then. Chick. Babe. Girl. Woman. Gina, specifically...

She poured herself a glass of water to go with her low-cal breakfast, and started dressing.

Sex with John and Gina. she sighed happily at the thought. Not likely to happen if I can’t even introduce them, though, is it? Gina has this totally unfair bias against John, just because he’s... well, it’s true, he doesn’t bathe all that much, and his apartment is kind of a pit. I guess bringing her over there might not be the best plan. How can I convince her, though?

Sandra’s eyes settled on a pile of schoolbooks Gina had left out on the table when she went to class. Mostly psychology texts, the bottom one was entitled, “Introduction to Hypnosis.”

Hmmm... Sandra thought...