The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Naomi had found her confinement particularly uncomfortable. Once she woke from her sedation, with a pounding headache, she had quickly determined that she only just fit in the cage that surrounded her. Getting comfortable was futile, and she had to work hard to alternate which part of her body got the uncomfortable pressure. In addition, her left butt cheek really stung—she assumed, reasonably, that someone had gone looking for the tracker chip there.

It was almost a relief when there was a “clang”, though muffled by her hood, and hands pulled her out of the cage. She cooperated, more or less, in standing up, and assessed her situation. Blind, partly deaf, and hands secured behind her back, her chances of a successful break away were currently nil. She decided to bide her time and look for an opportunity. Although the other girls of the kidon teased her about her shape, none of them wanted to take her on when it came to unarmed combat practice; her curves disguised surprisingly strong muscles, and if she could close and grapple with an opponent, then they were usually in deep trouble.

With her mouth free, at least, she decided to try a small gambit. “I could walk better, if I could see...”

There was no audible reaction, and the hands guiding her did not waver. Giving up on that tactic, Naomi let herself be led to... to whenever they were going.

It was too hard to maintain a mental picture of her path, especially with the persisting hangover from whatever chemical had been used to subdue her, so Naomi contented herself with determining what kind of room or corridor they were ing through. The floor seemed uniformly solid, but there was a definite distinction in air currents as they ed through doors. She didn’t know if this would be at all useful, but it beat thinking about what might await her at Saira’s hands.

She was brought to a stop, and stood ively as people moved around her. Something was brought between her legs, brought up to the edges of her crotch, then something like a harness pressed against both front and back. Her plump breasts were left hanging, uned, for some reason. Then, there was a faint hum of mechanical activity, and her bottom was hoisted upwards and backwards, pulling her feet just off the floor. She leaned further into the harness, wondering what was going on.

Someone unfastened her hood and removed it; she looked around, apparently confused, but actually trying to take in as much as she could. She was suspended just off the floor in a harness, as she had expected, in a small cubicle with a lot of equipment mounted on a side wall. In front of her, a curtain separated her from... what?

Two women in scrubs, plastic aprons, and masks were attending to her. She didn’t like the way that they seemed to regard her as an insensible piece of meat, but they also didn’t seem to be inclined to enter a conversation with her.

“Shouldn’t you be asking me questions?” she tried. “I’d be happy to talk.” Having something, anything, to pierce the armor of silence would be very welcome at this point. Her current unclothed suspension predicament felt like it would be hard to escape, at least without some assistance. “I’m Naomi. What can I call you?”

One of the women moved out of sight behind her. Lacking any other information, Naomi tried to figure out what the equipment on the walls was for. There were pumps, tubing, hooks, and miscellaneous medical equipment that made her increasingly concerned about what was likely to happen to her.

She suddenly drew air through her teeth as something pushed her butt cheeks apart and slid into her bottom, with a pulse of pain as she was briefly stretched, before whatever it was pushed through into her cavity and settled in place.

“Hey!” she protested. “What are you doing? That hurt! And... and you didn’t even buy me a drink!”

There was a strange feeling inside her bottom, like something cool spraying. The woman still in front of her shone a bright light in her eyes, making her blink and try to pull away, but then moved down and started to examine her breasts in detail.

“Ouch!” There was a stinging from her sex as something cold and irritating was swabbed between her lips. “What the... OW!” Her pee-hole was spread open, and something started to work its way up inside her. “No! Not there! Take that out!”

The woman in front of her rolled her eyes, in apparent annoyance, and turned from her task to pick something up from a table. She looped a surgical mask over Naomi’s ears, then sprayed something onto it.

“What...” The fumes from the mask quickly filled Naomi’s mouth and nose, and she became almost immediately dizzy. “No, I... I...” Her protests tailed away, even as the intruder pushed up into her bladder, and was inflated.

Her head fell, and she barely twitched as a second plug was carefully placed next to the catheter, secured inside her sex. Still just about conscious, she could see the woman resuming her examination of Naomi’s nipples, but she was completely unable to object, let alone resist, the intrusions inside her. Something was smeared on each of her nipples, then two cups were pushed over them, and a vacuum sharply pulled the nipples deep into the cups; without the temporary sedation, she would have cried out, but as it was, she could only manage a moan.

There was a cold feeling on her left arm, then a sharp pain as a needle slid into a major vein. The two women briefly fussed around her, making sure that the access was secured in place, then moved off to the side after removing the mask from her.

Slowly, her head started to clear, and she managed to raise her head to glare at the women. They met her gaze levelly, apparently unconcerned at her ire.

“I’m not going to tell you anything,” she growled. “You can do what you like, and I’m sure you will, but you’ll get nothing from me.”

“Oh my dear, quite the opposite.” A fluting voice from behind her preceded the arrival of a woman in a white chador. Her oval face was striking, even pretty, and Naomi found herself captivated by the woman’s sparkling eyes.

She turned to the two masked women. “Another sedative dose, please; one hundred fifty percent.” One of them disappeared behind her, and Naomi felt another cold spray inside her bottom.

“Who are you?” This person at least seemed to be willing to talk, and Naomi was happy to exploit the opportunity. She was starting to feel dizzy, but was pretty sure that she could still carry on a conversation, even with all the intrusions into and onto her body.

“I am the Maid,” the woman said, cheerfully. “And you are my calf—a beautiful little thing. Are you comfortable?”

“Am I...?” Naomi shook her head. “You’re hilarious. Look, can we just get whatever this is over with? and let both of us get on with our lives.”

The Maid laughed, and patted Naomi’s cheek. “How funny you are! I’m going to enjoy having you here, I can tell.” She peered down underneath Naomi, then, apparently satisfied, stood straight again. “We ran your blood work after we... obtained you, and you have nearly an ideal profile for this work. Very few do; you should be proud of yourself.”

Naomi was finding it increasingly hard to follow the conversation; her head kept wanting to sink forwards and her eyes were threatening to close. With a burst of will power, she re-focused on the woman. “Ideal for what work?“

“Saira needs various hormones and proteins for her research and production,” the Maid explained, “and we can extract them from your plasma and your breast milk. By placing certain other catalyst hormones in your feeding tube, your body should be able to produce a useful daily quantity of the products. We have to remove them quite promptly, though, because they can mess up your endocrine system if we leave them in there too long.”

She reached up to lift Naomi’s drooping right eyelid and stared into her eye for a moment. “She should tolerate the feeding tube now,” she called to one of the masked women.

An increasingly sleepy Naomi watched ively as the woman brought a long, thin tube over from a pump on the wall. She lubed the end, then reached up and slid it carefully up Naomi’s left nostril. It went all the way up, curved down into the back of Naomi’s throat, and nudged its way into her oesophagus. Normally, Naomi would have gagged, but whatever was sedating her was doing a good job of suppressing most of her gag reflex.

Once a blue mark on the tube touched Naomi’s nose, the woman taped the tube in place across Naomi’s cheek, and stepped back to type something into the pump controls.

“Not... lactating...” Naomi mumbled, the tube making it harder to talk. Her head was getting far too heavy to hold up.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” The smiling Maid pulled something across Naomi’s forehead, then something similar around the back. Naomi’s head was held securely, allowing her to gaze blearily mostly straight ahead, while her neck muscles gave up and relaxed.

“The stimulation on your nipples, along with the hormones in your feed, should have you lactating in a day or two,” the Maid reassured her. “Here, let me show you the other calves.”

She slid the green curtain back. Naomi could now see clearly four stalls, apparently the same as hers, each with a woman suspended and connected like her. One of them had her head ed like Naomi, and appeared to be asleep, but the others were staring ahead, blankly, as the machinery around them hummed. Occasionally, one of them would give a moan, but they didn’t seem to be in any discomfort.

“The stimulation will alternate,” the Maid explained, “and we will keep you at this level of sedation for a while. Let your body relax, my dear little calf, let your mind wander.”

The pulsing suction on her breasts stopped, and Naomi gave a moan as the plug in her sex slowly vibrated to life. It wasn’t aggressive, just pleasant, but made thinking even harder.

“Well, I see you’re well in hand, so I’ll be leaving you for now.” The Maid planted a kiss on Naomi’s cheek, then turned to the masked women. “Take Calf Four for Oblivion; she should be ready by now.” She disappeared around the corner.

The two women crossed to the woman opposite Naomi, whose head was being held in place. They carefully disconnected her from the tubes, removing the feeding tube last, then slowly lowered her to the floor where she stood, swaying, in the harness. One of the women fetched a gurney and, removing the harness, they placed the docile calf on top of it.

Naomi watched ively as the women wrapped the calf in sheets until she was buried in a cocoon on top of the gurney. The women then wheeled her away. Deep down, Naomi wondered if that was going to happen to her.

The vibration inside her slowed, then stopped, and the plug in her bottom woke up to take over. As the last of the sedation was absorbed, Naomi’s eyes closed...

She had no track of time; her existence was barely marked by periods of relative awareness, that ended in a spray of sedative followed by a slowly irresistible fog of sleep. From time, she was aware of the masked women attending to her, connecting something to her arm for a while as a pump hummed.

Her mouth was still free, and normally she would be a spitfire, challenging her captors, but the fiery Naomi was wrapped in a heavy blanket of sedation. She never felt hungry, or even thirsty. Sometimes, she was vaguely aware of pee draining from the tube in her bladder, and other times a stream of warm water was pushed into her bottom before draining out, but her body remained as ive as her mind.

From time to time, she saw the two women enter another calf’s cubicle, and close the curtain around it. She wondered what was happening, but couldn’t stir herself to ask.

There came the time that the sound of the suction on her breasts changed, and shortly after that the Maid came to visit her. She held up a small cup of watery white liquid, gently sloshing it in front of Naomi’s confused eyes.

“Your first milk! Congratulations, my beautiful little calf.” She kissed Naomi, this time on the lips. “And your plasma is starting to yield the products we require. You must be so proud!”

Naomi could only stare blankly at her.

“I know, I know,” the Maid said soothingly. “It’s a lot to take in. Let’s give you a wash, you’ll feel so much nicer after that.”

The two women came in, replacing the Maid, and disconnected Naomi from the equipment before lowering her to the ground. Naomi’s feet tingled as they finally found solid ground, and she was far too unsteady to stand without the harness. The women left her in it initially, letting her regain her balance, while they inspected her body. Lotion was worked into her breasts, they lubricated and explored her sex and her bottom, and they checked her skin for any abrasions.

Once satisfied that their calf could stand unaided, the harness was pulled away, and a shower head washed Naomi from head to toe. She only realized then that her hair had been severely trimmed, to nothing longer than a crew cut.

One of the women took the opportunity to soap and shave Naomi’s mound, before they worked together to blast Naomi dry with loud hot air vents. A quick application of lotion to various creases, and the harness was replaced, hauling Naomi back to her normal position.

The long time without any sedation had allowed Naomi’s head to clear somewhat, and as the women started to reconnect her parts with the machinery, she was covertly, but desperately, trying to get her fingers to push out the securing straps on her wrist restraints. She was nearly there with her right hand—then, there was a “tch!” and the strap was returned to its normal position, and locked in place.

One of the masked women, clearly annoyed, repeated the earlier process of masking and drugging Naomi. She was much more liberal with the quantity of the stupifying liquid, and Naomi was feeling very loopy by the time that the sad-looking Maid appeared.

“Oh, my darling little calf, why would you run away? Don’t you have everything here that you need?” She pouted. “Isn’t your Maid taking good enough care of you?”

Naomi was well beyond being able to respond; the Maid’s voice was sounding as if she were using a megaphone in a tunnel, and the room around her face was distorted as if it were in a fish-eye lens.

“Turn the stimulation cycle up high, and run it for an hour,” the Maid instructed her assistants. “And then... I’m afraid we have to heavily sedate this naughty calf, and take her for Oblivion.”

She patted Naomi’s cheek. “You’ll be much happier afterwards, little calf. No troublesome thoughts, just your Maid taking care of you.”

The force of the breast suction suddenly doubled, and Naomi gasped behind her mask. Then, the plug in her sex lit up like a fire, and she squealed...