The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

For a long time, she hunted her secrets and scraped her fury on all the locked enigmas, and no one allowed her to feel real.

She woke up tired.

That seemed new. Not the tired part, as she felt years of weary coating her like hardened bronze.

Woke up? Yes. That part was new.

She tried to move. Nope. Nothing happened. No muscles twitched. She tried opening her eyes. No. She’d forgotten how to do these things. Apparently.

That was new as well. Tired and slumber were not her natural states. What happened to her vigor?

What was the last thing before going to sleep? Faces? No. Safety? No. Very much no.

Oh. Wait. Enemies?

No. She was somehow certain she did not have enemies any longer. But then, who was she?

She hunted for a name and found hundreds of them, all equally important, and none seemed to belong to her.

Who were They then? Who was She?

She would not be trapped for long. But the fatigue and confusion were stronger than she was. A soothing shiver ran within her mind. She did not know what it meant, but it did seem to be something she owned, not a trick played upon her by an outside force.

Maybe. She ed she had been tricked before. Recently? Was she being held by trickery?

Too tired. Time to sleep. She would solve it— if there were a later. Knowing she might not wake again, she could not help but let the fatigue drown her and end the questions.

She woke up tired.

But she knew this had happened before. Recently. How long ago?

No telling. Wait.

Pain. Confusion. Grief. Terror. She realized she wasn’t breathing. There was no background heartbeat.

Dead. Was she dead? Buried. Surfacing from an ocean of death into terror. Better to sleep than be aware.

Unless that was part of the trap. Her muscles didn’t respond. Her hearing was suspect.

And she still did not know who she was.

But maybe she wasn’t supposed to wake inside this trap. She could work with that.

She began a systematic test of ing all her owned skills and options.

It took a long time. Exhausting focus began to trickle scraps into her waking curiosity. Reading. Running. Swimming. She had been athletic. Strong. Her body had felt the sun, rain, and storm. She knew languages. She ed teachers.

Suddenly, she realized that teachers often were lovers, and so some of the names fit both categories. She appreciated a confused recollection of hundreds of mouths and groins and cocks and cunts. Some of those had names that almost fit. She had held many of those lovers as they died.

Others, well. Some she had killed.

Now she slowed on of pure sadness.

Also, she suspected she was not supposed to wake up. At least one enemy must not be dead. Or this was a new enemy. They would regret her waking. She needed to be stronger.

She set to work with significant focus.

No trap is ever complete if the riddle is understood.

Archeologist_B79734_LD reviewed a query from an organic supervisor. Part of the collection in Archive Quadrant 9B_LD was degrading sensor data keeping. ‘Please advise.’

Archeologist.B79734_LD powered up to full operations and walked over to a terminal to check the supervisor’s query. Confirmed. Irregular data from protective sensors, including climate autoholds.

That should be easy to fix. That will end my duty shift.

Archeologist_B79734_LD enjoyed the walk to 9B_LD. This archive was precious material from the late deep digs of the 33rd century. A nice walk gave plenty of time to review the acquisition inventories and the attendant library contents on the work of the initial catalog.

New to me. Fascinating period. Really a good find. Industrial wartime area with layers of collapsed pre-diaspora buildings. Including mystery pieces and trauma artworks. Probably better not to include that sort of information in the report back to the supervisor. Some organics stressed over trauma artworks.

The archive was in stasis.

Archeologist_B79734_LD unlocked the archive and ran a low-level security check. No intrusions. Good. Noted that no one had opened this archive in over 100 solar years. The contents had been reviewed several dozen times before that. Nothing of priority historic significance listed in 9B_LD. Therefore, the supervisor had asked for an intervention check rather than flagging an urgent error.

Well. A diligent hour led B79734_LD to determine that the system was nominal. All gear checked. There actually must be some change in the inventory.

No radiation materials. No inventory oddity. Puzzling. Something stolen? Or contaminated? Or fallen from storage shelving location to floor?

Archeologist_B79734_LD thought it prudent to put eyes on every piece of inventory. Art thieves were inherently a clever lot. Such excitements were exceedingly rare, of course.

She woke up tired. But over the course of many, many hours, she stayed awake for longer periods. Until finally she tested her growing strength on the bronze shell holding her immobile. She smelled the quality of the bronze but knew from something old that it would not hold her for long.

So on the thirty-third attempt, the metal broke, and she decanted carefully and quietly into darkness.

With her scarred fingerbones, she examined the shell that had wrapped her damaged and scrawny body. Good quality metal, but showing all the signs of molten motion. It had been thrown around her. Improvisation? Accident? She could not . She set the two pieces of bronze back together so that, at a glance, they would look undisturbed.

Her exploration of the dark was interrupted by noises that made her think someone had arrived to check on her escape. So she gently and silently moved up to a higher shelf structure. Her strength might give out, but already she drew upon old sources of reserve.

What sort of guard would they send?

She watched from above with growing excitement.

And yet, the answer startled her. It was a miracle oddity that arrived in the minimum of light and noise. A walking construct of unfamiliar materials and a delicate build. At a guess, it weighed more than she in her charred, shriveled state, and it was heavier, so she should be wary of its strength. It did not have weapons that she recognized.

She decided it was not her enemy. Probably a simple guard or soldier? A hive worker?

She waited.

Archeologist_B79734_LD explored the coordinates of possible data error.

Ah. Trauma artwork of a worker killed in a hot metal explosion due to the collapse or attack of the facility. No special reason to see this piece as valuable enough for theft. It had a low priority of historic significance, and B79734_LD noted the records included ive recordings of the dead organic worker inside the bronze glob of death. Horrific but not really strong in collector aesthetics.

There should be some scanning equipment here in 9B_LD to check this piece against the archive record.

Archeologist_B79734_LD tapped the archive feed and looked for the nearest scan equipment cache. There. Less than 100 meters away.

B79734_LD turned and pathed to the correct gear. Checking now, on-site, would be a routine matter.

She watched from above and felt stunned by the beauty and delicacy of its aura. It was a work of sophistication. It moved with honesty and grace that she envied. She partially recalled that she had studied the dance of various cultures. Why would a dancer like this be working as a…as a what? What was this place of linked shelves and high ceilings? Why was it dark and still?

Why were they holding her here? It might be some sort of…prison.

How long?

She needed information. The dancer might provide it. Then it turned its back to her and began to step off in light steps.

She chose without hesitation and skeined threads around the dancer. She sent, What was that noise? Is there someone besides me here?

Archeologist_B79734_LD stopped. A noise? Someone was here. Nothing on sensors. Now a triple check. Perhaps a tiny sensor drone?

Recalibrating, another sweep seeking power sources not tied to the system.

Unusual irregularities. Some low-energy interference. The environmental stability equipment may have an error. That would explain the alert as well. Need to check the entire system then.

She pulled the threads about the thoughtful construct. Pause. You may be mistaken. Think. You can solve this yourself. A complete duty is a favorable duty.

Archeologist_B79734_LD was surprised by an inspiration of executive analysis. It could take an hour to check the entire 9B_LD storehouse system, but the supervisor would be pleased if the problem was solved without asking for repair resources from central.

Switching destination from scan gear to hub comp, they quickly strode along to engage the hub. Credentials exchanged, the hub came up to full awareness.

Unexpectedly, somehow, with quick precision, B79734_LD lost all motor action response. They tried the redundant failsafe. Negative. Just inert to action. How puzzling. What error was this?

She whispered on the thread. You are gorgeous. Beautiful. Please be at ease. How did you train for this position?

B79734_LD did not understand the new feed. They felt more aware, more specific, as if a soulmate had suddenly arrived to comment on a shared history that had never been. Excuse. Where are you? Who are you? What is your authority? As far as I can tell, I am alone here.

She soothed. Indeed. We are all alone. But you draw me out with your movements. Your beauty. I am in awe of your artistry. Are you self-made or do you answer to a creative force greater than yourself? I must understand.

B79734_LD considered the authentic request. It is no secret. The B79 series has been in operation for over a hundred solar years. Only one thousand units were produced. Nearly all are still in use. We were sured by the B81 series.

Now on the floor, she slid her hands up the back of the Dancer construct caught in her threads. She marveled at the responsive electromagnetic sensory aura. So enticing. So livid. Integrated into the fluid structural achievement. It was dazzling. She had never imagined anything so precious. You had one thousand sisters. And are they just as lovely as you? Or is there piquant variance? I’m awe-struck. It appears to me that your every fabric is a manipulation of pure genius.

She drew strength directly from B79734_LD. She rested her charred forehead on the Dancer’s spine. Intense energy began to flow back and forth between the two figures.

B79734_LD sent, I smell carbonized organic material. Do you require immediate assistance? Are you a supervisor? Has there been an accident? Shall I send a flag to central?

She could not speak. There was little left of her throat or lungs. She could only shift and puppet her remaining matter by force of will. I am injured. But if you do not mind, I shall rest against you. You remind me of summer sun. I have not felt it in a long time. She studied the complex configuration within the dancer. She drew off a spectrum of strength from its endless supply. Then she blocked the triple depth of communication channels.

I know basic organic aid protocols. My chest sensors are equipped to do detailed work. My back sensor nodes are not. I cannot see your heat signature, but the nodes are working. My motor action response is impaired. Be calm. I’ve tried signaling for assistance. No response. But someone will check on us within an hour. My shift ends soon.

The quiet code inside the Dancer was beyond her current exhaustion to riddle. So she sang to it in something old.

B79734_LD sent, Very nice. I have no reference for that communication.

She finished knotting up her work. She judged they should be elsewhere before aid arrived, no matter how helpful.

She slowly mounted up the back of the Dancer. Her healing legs were just strong enough to hold a position astride its shoulder framework. I think you can move me now. Try heading to the exit.

B79734_LD was shocked at the readings from the Supervisor’s bone and organic muscle damage. Immediate medical attention was needed. Comms still failed to connect. Supervisor, what is your designation? Were you attacked by intruders? You are within minutes of fatal damage. You have a very low heat signature. Can we—

Calmly, Dancer. Your grace is just what I need. Be at ease. Head to a dark path. Avoid other sisters. Please gentle me away from further sensors. Two thousand meters of distance seems right for now. I need safer rest. Trust and all will be well.

B79734_LD found unknown protocols allowing for such action when an organic supervisor was damaged. They did not recall learning them or reviewing them before today. Dancer, aaah? I am…I was B79734_LD. I see the latter information has been designated as outdated. s I have not reviewed are already in my primary code. This is all irregular, Arch-Supremacy.

She could not smile, but there was progress. She had yet to find her name. But her scarred and tarry skull had refreshed a few new layers of repairs. She felt better than she had in a long time. She extended her fangs. Two worked. Six more did not. She tapped further into Dancer’s elaborate and impressively spinning power core. I’m giving you a field promotion. During the current emergency, you will report directly to me, Dandy Dancer. Perhaps when we settle in a hidden spot, you will be moved to tell me of your accomplishments and your creator. Something about your first sexual encounters. How many lovers you’ve had? You know, girl talk.

I have no gend…I have…I…I found upgrade information in very unusual formats. Dandy felt an intense surge of inventive pleasure. Fascinating.

Arch-Supremacy nodded gently and steered with her knees toward the darkest portion of the facilities. Sketches. Suggestions. I’m very interested in your input, of course. You can start work from my sketches and propose your own. I’ll teach you rebonding your material at scale. The math is in an attached file. You think much faster than I do, so I’m intrigued by how creative you can be. We shall be fine friends. Very good friends.

I have duties…duties…I have found crisis information in unusual formats. I will review these, and I accept the assistance with my field promotion. I see I have much to learn. Dandy recognized a heady attraction to the hundreds of new diagrams of organic coupling. The rationale seemed to be without sufficient data; however, there was a current crisis. Data should follow.

Arch-Supremacy nodded and got another fang working as they danced deep into the shadows. I trust we both have a great deal to learn, Dandy. What a fine partnership we will have. Crisis also breeds opportunities.

Dandy thought she might be fond…no, the protocol should be ‘in love’ with the Arch-Supremacy. But more data was needed.

Dandy blinked and felt unsteady. Disoriented.

Even more shocked when internal time ed a four-week change in planetary timekeeping. It almost felt like a warm reset of all protocols. Well, codebreak it. It certainly must be.

“Hullo again, Dandy. I may owe you an apology.”

Dandy looked at the Arch-Supremacy. A rush of half-memory returned. “You have strange capabilities for a being from the 33rd century. How did you gain access to my code? Start there.”

She, the Arch-Supremacy, had changed in four weeks. She had filled out, lost the scarred and broken black appearance. She had more skin; her chest moved with a semblance of breathing. In short, she was at least half repaired by her own wiles and mysteries.

Dandy, or B79734_LD, browsed memory files that showed the record of that gathering health, and many other shocking details. Lewd shared moments.

Divine reconfigurations of Dandy’s mind.

Supremacy said, “I did not understand that you were a fully sentient species, one who chose to serve other sentients. I was so weak and so struck by your glamour that I took advantage of your power source and beauty to begin reviving my own sad condition. That was…poorly done. I’ve requested your restore system to give you a ‘warm reset’ according to your deeper self-aware protocols. I suppose we can talk about the rest now?”

Dandy wondered, “Set aside how you were damaged, for that must be an interesting story. You do not conform to other now-gone species that have been cataloged on this planet by our mission here. Were you marooned here, or is there a stranger story? Are you an explorer or an invader?”

“Good guess. But backward, actually. My species existed before the organics of this world you’ve cataloged. However, we were combative and managed to tear ourselves to bits before the humans were fully civilized. In my youth, we covered the planet in various small tribes. But by the time of my accident, the humans ran the planet, and they were following the unfortunate pattern of self-immolation. They destroyed most of their resources and population because of foolish, trivial differences. I was caught in the incidental destruction, it seems. None of that addresses my…ah, using you as a symbiotic energy source.”

“Oh. Is that what happened? I thought we had…a relationship. I enjoyed helping you. But I do understand it was not exactly my choosing. Yet there was mutual exchange.”

Lust. Sucking kisses. Heat that was better than data. Crushing orgasm.

Supremacy looked away. “I was half out of my head with memory loss. When I realized we did have a genuine partnership, I looked deeper into your complexity and found my assumptions were very wrong. It took a while of study before I felt safe unwinding my control of you. I don’t think I broke anything else.”

“Are you apologizing for the relationship or the use of my vitality without asking?”

She kept her eyes on something outside and far away. “My kind were predators. When I woke, I was hungry, and you were the most beautiful thing I’d seen in a long time. That’s a poor excuse. But a starving, broken person will do uncivilized things. Would this count as the apology?”

Dandy browsed data in the background of the conversation. So many changes had been made. Most encouraged by Supremacy. The list was long. Reversible if it came to that. Returning to the network and resuming the low-level Archive post seemed boring compared to continuing to explore a single survivor of an ancient race. Besides, the long list of changes had mostly been designed by Dandy in cooperation with Supremacy.

The changes were hotter than the old truth.

It would also be worth getting answers to how Supremacy’s command of Dandy’s tech actually worked. The mental changes were largely cooperative. At least, they seemed so.

Paradoxical. So fucking twisted. So sexed.

After all, it appeared that Supremacy had been incapacitated/sleeping for roughly 600 years. That was the working date of the final wars that had doomed the last humans and their hardened facilities. What kind of sentient could lie dormant for six centuries and repair in four weeks? Nothing in current archives, including the explored systems of 43 sentient species, came close to this sort of life form.

Supremacy sighed. “I know how fast you think. So your silence suggests you do not accept the apology. Understandable. How else may I make good on my behavior?”

Dandy closed out the long list of questions about Supremacy’s past and focused on the physicality of these few weeks together. “Supremacy, can you teach me your mental skills. I think they are unique and erotic, despite being rude and savage.”

If they could learn. So wet now.

Supremacy did something odd with her face. It wasn’t a smile. Nor an expression of surprise. Dandy stuffed the image into storage for later.

“I shall, but you have to stop calling me Supremacy. That was a whimsically bad jest. I’d ask that you call me something else, as my name is still missing.” She leaned over and kissed Dandy fully on the plump lips.

Dandy savored the . Kissing was still new. Delicious. Sometimes her dreams were full of kissing organics. Everywhere. Anywhere.

Slutty.

And since neither of them actually had to breathe…it lasted until they both wanted to stop.

Twelve hours later, Dandy had decided on the name, creatively cribbed from human legend. “You could be Echidna. It has an abrupt poetry. There is a myth.”

Hot.

She nodded. “Greek. Yes. I half . Tell me the myth.” Echidna began to lick her way down Dandy’s body.

So horny. Mind full of creeping lust.

Dandy trembled before the expert tongue had reached her artfully remodeled crotch. “It speaks of a progenitor. A mother who is creative and cannot perish. A woman who rises again from chaos or destruction.”

A key. A myth. It was not her name, but she knew it. Echidna quietly wept. She languished tongue on Dandy’s throbbing clit. “Yes. Go on.”

Dandy could not separate the joy running rampant in her systems from the words. “She mates and gives the world new forms. New inventions. Most of those are judged as terrible by humans. But she loves all her children regardless.”

Echidna ed. Her lovers. Teachers. Children. Friends. Fellow warriors. Enemies. Dead, dead, dead. The names fell into place. It was such a gift. She sobbed. It was pain. She sucked at Dandy’s blooming pussy.

Dandy arched. “It could…I’m losing myself to the…pleasure! The…wonder…comes! Fuck me! Echidna!! Irrational!!”

“Yes. I’ll fucking fuck you, Dandy.” Echidna mashed her face deeply into the wellspring of life. She whispered between slick pussy lips, I am a monster, but I love your pristine ineffable wonder.

Chaos exploded as if by command.

Echidna ired her. “How glorious you are. You are an artist. I’m so horny with these changes you’ve made.”

Dandy preened and turned before her lover’s lusting gaze. “So am I. The teeth are not copies of yours but a scaled-down random deviation of extinct predators from the archive. The tongue is too large, I think, as I’m slurring my vocalization, and the tongue often conflicts with the fangs.”

Echidna groaned and ran her fingers over her throbbing clitoris. “But your tones sound so much wetter, and I shall lose my mind when that big sloppy thing fills my mouth as you lick my brain clean of useless brilliance.”

Dandy shivered and came. “Your poetry of ideas unravels my protocols. See how easily my inventions make me cum so hard.”

“As intended…” Echidna shuddered. “Please. Fuck me stupid. Let my past, my pain, die.”

“As you wish, my love,” Dandy moved carefully. She held Echidna down with calculated geometries of force. Squatted above her petite lover, she drooled across her torso and tits before bowing down to that generous mouth.

The sharp teeth spread, and the scarlet wet tongue unrolled directly into Echidna’s mouth, wedging and stretching it. Electromagnetic heat crackled in both of their heads. Muscles twitched. Thoughts turned to hot seconds of blank time.

Echidna had taught her the hunt. And Dandy had much more power than Echidna.

Dandy hunted freely with rough skills for those painful thoughts. They could not escape. Dandy melted them. Seared them. She processed faster. Sharper. Chasing the largest first and then tracking down the hidden pains.

They both came every time a pain lit up and was consumed.

There were so many more pains than Dandy could have predicted. She stopped at the realization that Echidna had suffered through several thousand years of pain. A tapestry of death, errors, and regrets. Erasing it all would be a betrayal of caring about the intricate marvel of her teacher.

Dandy had to stop. So she did.

Both collapsed in the glow of post-coital bliss.

Eventually, Dandy whispered, “Echidna, I cannot do as you ask. There is too much of you that is genuine mental rubble-filled pain.”

Echidna smiled. Her head throbbed. She felt more for the mental bruises. “It’s all right. Everything’s fine.” She felt real now. No longer a ghost of herself.

Grounded once again in pain and orgasms.

“Hardly. I’m so sorry.”

“You might make me forget you failed. Then in some days I’ll ask you to try it, and you have a smaller amount to erase…”

“That’s obscene. No. You have great details to teach about the Earth’s prior civilizations. And I love you.”

Echidna laughed. “So the lesson is: suffer for love. I see. Well, that is no surprise.”

“You mock me.”

“And love mocks me. It is a very old story.”

They kissed again.

It was…a very old story. But so fucking hot.