The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Lily was having trouble sleeping: oh the bed was comfortable enough: after all it had once belonged to Isis Pines, the previous Mistress of Hive Philae. Sleep, when it came, was usually riven by dreams or more specifically, by a rerun of the same dream.

It would begin with her working up in the admin centre that was perched atop the hive, it was a normal session and her drones would be all around her, busy with the plethora of tasks needed to keep the hive functioning. Suddenly the door would fly open and a figure would burst in—it was usually Valentina Karpova from over at Hive Tsiokolski but lately it had been a mysterious black-clad male who proclaimed themself to be ‘The Master’.

Usually the intruder would argue with her before grabbing her and pouring some of the mind-paralysing oil down the back of her dress, ousting her in exactly the same way that she had dealt with Pines five years before. As the days passed the dreams had become progressively more disturbing and during the recent ones her own drones had laughed as she was hauled away. Tonight there was a new variation: one which had caused her to wake up sobbing.

The dream had begun and progressed much the same as the previous ones. This time the intruder was Karpova who had harangued her about the evil that she was doing before anointing her with the mind-melting oil. Then, just as she was about to be led away to be enslaved, there came a sudden new development: Rebecca had appeared. Rebecca, one of Pines’ former bed slaves who now faithfully served Lily as a key advisor on Hive matters was faithful no longer. Horrified, Lady Yew had watched as Rebecca move across the admin area, shedding clothing with each step before flinging her arms around Karpova and grinding her belly and breasts against the woman.

Lily had screamed and even as she felt herself begin to awaken she realized that two emotions were running through her dreaming mind. The first was a burning jealousy and the second was a sickening sense of fear. She was afraid that she was going to lose Rebecca! No! The Hive! No! Definitely Rebecca! And it was this turmoil that finally shattered the nightmare.

For almost a minute she lay in the darkness, tears streaming down her face, but not daring to move in case she discovered that the dream was real. It isn’t, is it? No It can’t be!

Suddenly she was aware of a disturbance beside her as the covers were moved by someone slipping in behind her.

“What...?” Her cry was cut short.

“Hush now, Mistress, I’m here.” It was a woman’s voice, gentle, caring. It was Rebecca.

“No.” Lily muttered, for she was not attracted to women despite being Mistress of an all-female hive. She tried to pull away but felt an arm slip around her body just below her breasts. The arm hugged her reassuringly and she was pulled back against a soft, yielding body.

“Yes!” rebecca hissed emphatically. “You need me, Mistress and I’ll never leave you.” She added as she snuggled up closer before leaning over to gently kiss her Goddess’s cheek.

“Ohhh!” Lily groaned as a waft of a woman’s musky fragrance slipped into her nostrils.

“Hush now, Mistress.” The bed-slave purred as her hand slipped down Lily’s belly to gently rest over her pussy. There was a pause during which Lily heard herself whimper. She shivered expectantly but there was confusion. Is this another dream?

Then, as rebecca’s fingers gently slipped into her, Lily’s doubts vanished along with any remaining reluctance as she felt her whole body relax.

Lily sighed as the slave began to expertly work her magic, her fingers slipping in and out with practised ease before moving on to toy with her little clitty. Lily groaned as she shifted her position to give her slave better access and the fingers, so intricate in their dance, settled into a rhythm that caused waves of fire to burn through the Mistress’s long-celibate body.

“Oh, Rebecca!” She moaned as she felt a second arm slip underneath her and a hand begin to gently fondle her breast.

The skilled hands seemed to know exactly what to do as they brought her, oh so gently, to a shattering orgasm: the first that she had experienced with another person for longer than she cared to remember. Afterwards the two of them lay in each other’s arms and Lily slipped into a deep and undisturbed sleep. Those foul dreams would never troubled her again.

Far away on the crater-pocked vastness of the Meridian Plane events continued to unfold. Inside the Reception Block there was an air of heightened excitement as Dr Sarn, cape flapping, fluttered around like some huge and obscene black butterfly. The Master’s shuttle was on final approach!

The minutes ticked by as the doctor tried to get Master’s property into line so that they could properly greet their owner. The fact that the slaves were all lined up along the rear wall did not seem to register and he continued to flutter around shrieking pointless instructions which the drones ignored as they were already in a perfect line.

The Russian pre-drones, received as a dividend payment on Master’s investment, were locked away in their austere accommodation, here they would remain until their owner decided to inspect them and say how they were to be utilized. But even his overwhelming longing to operate upon them had been quite driven from Sarn’s mind. Master’s arrival was now all that mattered!

Suddenly a low rumbling could be heard, a deep sound that gradually increased in volume until it was a roar. The atmosphere outside was thin, less than 1% of that on Earth, so sounds were deeper and quieter than Sarn was used too. But it didn’t matter for there was only one thing on this planet that could make so much noise. Sarn reacted by scampering to the end of the row of airlock doors where he stepped into the little observation lounge and peered out of the window towards the landing field a quarter of a mile away.

The shuttle, a twin of the one that already sat out on the Martian plane, descended on its multiple jets of fire, slowing as it did so until it seemed to be hovering just feet above the orange-brown landscape. Then, kicking up vast clouds of the fine salmon-pink dust, it settled gently onto the ground as all around it the dust rose up blotting out the butterscotch sky and staining it pink. After a minute or two, the finer stuff had blown away in the prevailing wind which today came down from the north. The comma shaped pink cloud twisted slightly and seemed to dance happily as the wind moved it clear of the pad and soon the sky around the facility shone with an intense butterscotch glow once more.

“The Master is here! The Master is here!” Squawked Sarn, who danced around like some sick parody of an excited child. Then, quite forgetting that they had already done so, screamed. “Time to line up!” At the placid slaves who once more ignored him.

Outside the window, the shuttle bus, one of the vehicles that had been in storage in a sealed hanger, rolled over to the landing pad on its six balloon wheels. Sarn watched the vehicle glide over the landscape and a minute or two later, extend it’s telescopic ramp and dock with the shuttle. It would need to make many trips to unload both Master and slaves plus all of the cargo that it carried.

Suddenly Sarn spun around and almost skipped to his place in front of the other slaves, burbling excitedly as he did so. “Master’s here! Get ready! Get ready! Master’s here!”

Then taking his place at the front of the line-up, Sarn waited until the airlock pumps began to whir. Only then did he drop o one knee and bow deeply, while behind him the row of female slaves fell to their hands and knees and kowtowed towards their God.

There was a hiss as the door slid open and, after a brief pause, the click-click-click-click of high-heeled shoes echoed through the hall. At the fourth click, the heels fell silent and there was an even longer pause during which the slaves all held their position as if frozen.

“Ah, Sarn, I see that you have been busy.” The voice was silky and sounded rather amused.

“Indeed, my beloved Master, welcome to your new hive. I am filled with relief now that I know you are safe” Sarn positively oozed.

The voice chuckled musically. “Still the sycophantic toady, I see.” Another chuckle. “You alone may rise and approach.”

As Sarn did as he was bid, his eyes fell upon the figure of a small Asian woman dressed in a red silk Chinese-style dress whose top was figure-hugging and skin-tight while the skirt was slit up each side. However, because of the low gravity, it floated outwards whenever she moved, exposing rather more of The Master’s anatomy than she had intended. The face, surrounded by a curtain of long shiny black hair, was beautiful and looked to be of south-east Asian origin: Thai, Indonesian or possibly Malay with its high cheekbones and almond shaped brown eyes. Eyes that were cold, heartless and showing none of the humour that the voice conveyed. They were eyes that assigned a value to everything that they fell upon: they were the eyes of an accountant.

Tsiokolski was, to coin a phrase, a ‘hive of activity’. Although Lady Karpova was yet to imprint her stamp onto both its infrastructure and the new slaves that she had so easily acquired. She kept their control settings at “high” which reduced the women to little more than robots although she fully intended to reduce it and allow them some autonomous thought—just not yet awhile.

Several years ago there had been four of them who had talked the Kremlin into setting up a public-private finance partnership. Between them they had injected several billion roubles into the scheme as a sweetener to manoeuvre the Russian Government into reclaiming its errant Martian territory and bases. Unbeknown to the politicians, the four had all been slavers. Now, with herself and The Master already established upon the planet it was time to prepare for the arrival of the other two.

The Kremlin was yet to discover what was actually happening and firmly believed that their agent had snatched the Martian Oblast away from the control of evil Americans fronted by their puppet,Yew, and returned it to its rightful place as part of the Russian Federation. When they eventually discovered that they had even less influence on Mars than they had previously then recriminations would fly...

But what could they possibly do? Independent Mars grew stronger with every passing day and it would be quite sometime before they discovered the double-cross. Oh, she was still in touch with the Russian Government by way of the radio and computer links and was keeping them happy by feeding them all sorts of false news reports and phoney promises. They had even been informed that Feoderov had been murdered. She chuckled to herself when she received their condolences and the promotion to Governor that they had been so keen for her to accept. And accept she did, but not before a show of reluctance.

Little did they know but the former governor was alive and well and on board one of the two shuttles currently returning to Earth. One of which was bound for a consortium of slavers in North America who had paid top-dollar for its contents. The other being bound for the premises of a dealer in Southern Africa who would break and train the men before handling their sale for a fee. Male slaves did not fetch as much as females but the dealer, who was well known within the powerful slaver community, was confident that he could obtain a good price for the items. That same dealer was also going to handle the marketing of the enslaving ‘Captive Bolts’ when large-scale manufacture commenced at Tsiokolski. This meant that he could be relied upon not to cheat when selling the slaves as the market for the bolts, their installation equipment and the programming software was a large one and promised to make him far more money than selling slaves ever had.

There had been spin-off from her ousting of Feoderov—his wife and daughter for instance. The personality overlays generated by their captive bolts were far from the standard ones implanted into Work, Security or Technical Units... Valentina had written them herself with comfort and entertainment in mind and was more than pleased with the results. The former Madam Feoderova now ran her new Mistress’s little household and proved to be a highly efficient housekeeper. She was still a good-looking woman and thanks largely to Mars’s low gravity, her body didn’t sag. So, despite her being in her late forties she was pleasing both to the eye and to the touch. Feoderov’s daughter, who was a pretty twenty-year old brunette, willingly served Karpova in much more intimate ways—the life of a slave-owner really did have its little perks.

The days ticked by and Valentina Karpova was more than satisfied with the progress made to date: the takeover of Tsiokolski could only be regarded as a total success and the idiots in the Kremlin were ignorant of just about anything that had actually happened—long may that state of affairs continue! Then there was the, oh so clever Mistress Lilith Yew who was too good to be true and clearly didn’t suspect Karpova’s motives.

Finally there was the Master—just a minor inconvenience whom Yew was being manoeuvred into dealing with... Yes, life was indeed wonderful and provided plenty of time for relaxation and entertainment.

Today, Mistress Valentina was relaxing in her office surrounded by her pets, some of whom worked at various tasks while the others were there to look beautiful or to amuse her. A pair of lithe beauties, naked save for the lubricated strap-ons that they wore, were wrestling on a large padded mat. The rules were simple and each was attempting to impale the other. The loser would be one whose arsehole got fucked. But as both girls had been conditioned to prefer anal sex, their Mistress rather suspected that this would be regard as being more akin to a consolation prize than an actual defeat.

Suddenly one of her Praetorian Guard ran into the room and knelt before her. Valentina tore her eyes away from the spectacle and met the security drone’s gaze commanding her to. “Speak.”

The tall black-clad blonde with a pixie hair-style didn’t hesitate. “Mistress intruders have been detected in hydroponics on level six.”

Karpova’s beautiful face suddenly looked as if it had turned to stone. “Yew, again.” She spat.

The stone-face suddenly creased with a frown. Not necessarily: The Master landed two days ago... Could be that bitch is getting uppity!

“Okay,” Mistress Valentina shouted, “Full security alert and lock down. Anyone who is in will stay in until we catch these invaders.”

Over at her new hive, The Master was in the process of getting used to Mars. She was adapting and had even ceased screaming abuse at Sarn and the rest of her slaves for their failure to produce a breathable atmosphere inside the dome. Back on Earth she had only to order something to be done and done it was. Mars, it seemed, refused to heed her words.

Now, while Sarn explained that the planting of crops within the dome could commence as soon as the night-time temperatures no longer dipped too far below freezing, she had nodded and actually smiled. “And how long do you think that will take?” She purred but it was not a pleasant sound. “You know that I do not like to be kept waiting.”

Sarn shuddered. “Four days; a week at most. The dome is almost at Earth-normal pressure and with the higher Carbon Dioxide levels, more heat will be trapped. It only fell to -10°C last night so we are definitely making progress!”

Her expression was sour when she enquired. “Am I supposed to be impressed by that?”

Sarn wilted somewhat. “Well it was falling to minus forty when I arrived.”

She realised that she was being unfair, he was her most versatile tool, after all. She nodded. “Progress indeed!” There would be time enough to torment him later.

He relaxed, there was still a great deal to do such as reducing carbon dioxide levels when the temperature had stabilized, getting water valour levels up and finding a source of Nitrogen to make the air Earth-normal. He also knew that it was no good trying to explain this to his Master, she was only interested in results.

Suddenly she gave him a beaming smile. “Come, let us inspect the new pets that you have obtained for me: I’m sure that you are itching to begin work on them.”

He smiled and nodded so vigorously that he could feel his long Martian plait move against his back as he did so.

Twenty minutes later, after each of them was clamped into a halter that trapped their wrists and neck and their ankles had likewise been secured by a spreader bar, did he believe it safe for Master to approach the pre-drones. After all, Master’s safety was his primary concern.

Most of the slaves were surprised that Master was actually a beautiful young-looking woman, with immaculate make-up and a sky-blue silk gown that had probably cost more than they had ever earned.

The slaves waited patiently in the passageway outside Master’s rooms before being escorted in by female security drones. Although Master had owned a quantity of male slaves, she did not think much of them and had sold them all except Sarn before leaving Earth. However she had at the time instructed Sarn to obtain a small number on Mars to carry out strenuous physical work.

To heighten tension, Master had the new pets brought in one at a time and chuckled to see their splay-legged waddle. Once in her presence she naturally took her time prodding and examining their naked bodies, slipping fingers into various orifices as she did so before informing Dr Sarn of her wishes. He then used a marker pen to write a code on their shoulder, which although just a couple of letters and numbers, but it was enough to define whatever unpleasant fate lay in store.

The three women that were at least six foot tall were the easiest to deal with... They would be conditioned and modified to take their place as part of her Security Guard and as a consequence they were marked with a large “S” followed by a specialization number, usually a “2” or a “5”.

Then came the rest of the women and girls who were marked with a “W3”, “D4”, “D6”, “W1”, “P7” or some such code to consign them to a future as a “worker” or a “doll” or a “plaything” or whatever else Master required.

Finally Master deigned to inspect the five males and so instructed Sarn to have the five of them brought in together. Keeping her distance, she watched as the five of them shuffled in splay-legged, then when they were lined up in front of her she stared at them with disdain.

“Men!” She almost spat as she took a good look at them. She turned to Sarn. “I’m glad to see that that obnoxious bitch, Karpova, has supplied what I need for construction and other heavy work. Okay, the disgusting things are as hairy as apes so get rid of it permanently. All of it mind, including that on their heads, males are such filthy creatures so it will be easier to keep them clean without it.”

They were well muscled, despite the weak local gravity, and all of them were over six foot three. Ideal for beasts of burden. She thought.

Then her eyes drifted downwards to their genitals. “Oh, and you had better castrate them so that they’ll be easier to handle.”

Suddenly she noticed a twitch and then another and another. The Master gasped in horror as their penises rapidly became more or less erect and seemed to threaten her.

“How dare they!” She shrieked. “How dare they!” For a few moments she stared wide-eyed, appalled by the sight of a row of erect and dribbling male sex-organs.

Turning to Dr Sarn she screamed. “Castration by banding! That’s what they deserve! I’ll teach these swine to wave those foul organs at me! Band them, Sarn, band them and the more they suffer the better! Do you hear me, Sarn? Punish them!”

“Yes, Master, at once, beloved Master.” Sarn purred as the security drones dragged the doomed men out of the room. He was careful to hide his smile, just as he had been careful to hide the spray hypodermic that he had used to inject the erection inducing drug into the men’s bloodstreams. As he followed them down the corridor he whistled a happy little tune and daydreamed about all of the wonderful pain that he was about to induce.

When eve entered the control centre she was pleasantly surprised. Mistress had seemed anxious of late, depressed even, but today she once more glowed with vitality and seemed like her old self. There was another change, a much more obvious one and it was in rebecca.

When eve had first encountered her five years before, rebecca had been stretched out on the grass in the garden where she was sunning herself, her naked body relieved only by the black slave-collar fastened around her neck. rebecca, as it turned out, had been a proud bed-slave and had almost overcome a surprised eve, forcing her to flee. Today, as eve, entered the administration room she was confronted by the sight of a naked rebecca reclining proudly on the steps that led up to the dais upon which Mistress Lily’s throne-like chair was perched. Rebecca, it seemed, had reverted to her original function.

Mistress looked up from the PADD that she was reading. “Ah, Eve, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

eve, resplendent in her white controller’s uniform with its blue and silver decoration, walked over to where Lily was seated and dipped her head slightly. “Mistress, Copernico has received an encrypted transmission from the Tsiokolski Facility but it’s not from Lady Karpova.”

Lily sat bolt upright,her face displaying interest. “Oh? Who from then?”

“She says that she is Lina Zuyeva and that she is one of a small number of free people still resisting the take-over.” eve informed her.

Lily nodded thoughtfully. “This could be useful; assuming of course she is genuine.”

eve nodded. “Yes, it could be a trap but the woman claims that the Yseult and Ciara know her and asks to speak to them.”

Lily stopped and thought, the name, Zuyeva, was familiar. Ah yes, the Ward sisters mentioned her a lot in their report... She nodded to herself. This could definitely be a trap. Still, it’s worth following through.

“Eve, go and find the Wards and accompany them down to the garage: we’re going over to Copernico.” She looked down. “You too Rebecca, go get dressed, I may need your insight!”