The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

In the past, Astrid had occasionally found herself in a dream where she was immobilized, unable to move a muscle despite frantic attempts. As she had studied psychology books, she learned that this was a well understood phenomenon where her brain had woken from REM sleep, but hadn’t yet sent the chemical signals to her body to release her muscles from atonia.

This did not explain why she was now lying in her bed, eyes open, staring at the star pattern on the ceiling displayed by her bedroom projector, and still completely unable to move. She could feel the warmth of Åsa, pressed close against her, but apparently similarly immobile. The girl’s glittering vest was just visible out of the corner of her eye, hanging from Astrid’s dressing chair. Astrid ed Åsa laughing as she threw it there, just before... Well, she ed all that just fine, she thought with a smirk.

When one of the animatronic aliens from the club appeared, standing on the bed and staring down at her, she wasn’t sure what to think. Had someone slipped her mushrooms without her knowing? In one of the club vol-au-vents, maybe?

The alien made a burst of high pitched musical noise, which sounded like one of the background sound effects at the club, and leaned down to place something around Astrid’s head. For some reason, it felt familiar. It appeared to do the same for Åsa, just out of Astrid’s sight.

What is happening? Astrid started to wonder if she had gone flat-out crazy.

The creature pulled the sheets off Astrid’s body, with apparently considerable difficulty given its size, leaving her naked from the thighs upwards. Another burst of high pitch tones came from the other side of the bed.

“I just want to say, Lati, that you must be out of your mind. As must I.”

Remi stood at the side of the room, her neurojack gun hanging from a sling, and her thermal viewer still mounted over one eye. While paralyzing the first human had been easy, with her sleeping on her back, they’d had to wait for the second one to turn over in her sleep in order to be in a suitably accessible position. It had only been five minutes of waiting, but—trapped in a confined space with a massive and likely hostile carnivore that could have woken at any moment—it felt like a lifetime.

“Possibly,” itted Lati. She planted an O-tron on the original blonde specimen’s mound, adjusted the connector framework on her head for better , and turned her attention to the second specimen—this one, an unknown quantity. Fortunately, her scans indicated it was free of any contaminants, or indeed excess metalwork.

“She’s going to you,” Remi said, unnecessarily. The blonde’s eyes were wide open and staring at Lati—currently, her bony behind.

“Very likely,” itted Lati, struggling to get the framework through the thick dark fur of the second specimen, “but I’m hoping no-one will think she’s serious. Maybe, even she won’t.”

“She’s not intoxicated,” Remi pointed out. “Neither of them are, really.”

“Oh, she’ll ascribe it to dreaming about the club, or something.” Lati finally got the framework to fasten around the second specimen’s head. “Nearly there!” She pulled the sheets down to apply the second O-tron. “Goodness gracious, look at those mammary glands. They are massive! Each of them must be half my weight! How does this specimen even walk?”

“Slowly, I’d imagine,” said Remi.

The sheet came down further, exposing... “Okay, I haven’t seen that before.” Lati stared at the specimen’s mid section, apparently lost for words.

“Huh?” Remi peered over, seeing that the pubic mound of the second specimen was missing the brown fur she expected. And, there was something else. “Is that... Earth writing?”

“I assume so, but I don’t recognize the shapes.” Lati’s study of the humans had been extensive, but had not covered the Norse runes that Åsa had tattooed above her pussy. “You know what? I’m going to pretend that they aren’t there. I won’t tell if you won’t.” She slapped the second O-tron into place, setting it on scan-only mode, and climbed off the bed. “All set!”

The console and base station she had lugged from the craft—which was now parked on the roof of this apartment building—were nominally portable, but still about a third of Lati’s body weight. She had been very grateful that Remi had found these sleeping quarters on the top floor. Even with the cloaking device, and being able to phase through the building doors, she had felt very vulnerable as they sneaked through the silent corridor, aware of humans in the rooms all around them.

“How is this going to work?” Remi asked, popping a snack into her mouth.

“I’m not exactly sure,” itted Lati. “But we need some kind of behavioral data and map, and this is the only way I can think of to get it tonight.” She lit up the console. “Game time!“

Astrid’s vision went black, briefly, before a slowly spinning, multi-colored globe of clouds materialized in front of her. For some reason, it tickled a half-dissolved memory lurking near the top of her mind.

I’ve been here before, haven’t I? she thought. But when? And, where is this?

Wisps of cloud started to detect from the globe, and slowly undulate across the void towards—well, presumably towards her. Whatever she was in this dream. Was it a dream? It certainly wasn’t real.

I’m going to wake up, she decided. I’m in control. I’m aware. I can do this.

She exerted her considerable will—dogged determinism was her brand, and had brought her and her start-up a long way—but yet, she remained in the void.

I don’t know where to push, she realized. Or pull.

The tendrils of cloud had just reached her, and started to swirl around her vision. She felt... confusion? Disorientation? An apparently random burst of sexual desire briefly illuminated her. Now, the confusion was turning to fear, and she dug inside herself for resilience.

“Fascinating!” Lati murmured.

“What’s going on?” Remi stood next to her, trying to decipher the projected data.

“We’ve successfully bridged between the two humans’ minds. They’re feeling each others’ thoughts—slowly, because they’re a primitive species, but quite clearly. If one of them feels fear, for instance, the other will feel it too. I’ve damped the amplification of course—we don’t want a positive loop. But they don’t need any kind of translation, unlike when we connect to them.”

“I heard rumors of what happened to Professor Mifa,” Remi observed. “Is it true she ate a lab assistant’s hand while she was under the human influence?”

“No, it’s not true.” Lati adjusted some controls. “But the experience did make us a lot more wary of directly connecting our own brains to humans.“

She reached over to the O-tron on the first specimen, and initiated its program. “Let’s see how the sexual desire propagates.”

The three zoo specimens were eating at the table in their living space, a pattern of all-blue eyes staring at them through the glass.

“I have to it, whatever that device was, it squashed my period in record time.” Frida, her appetite returned, was scarfing down the food. They had noticed a recent increase in the quantity provided—apparently, the aliens thought they had been getting too skinny.

“I told you, that little alien is looking out for us.” Sofia chewed the pink substance from her tray. “You know, this isn’t bad. It reminds me of salmon, though it could stand to have some texture.”

“Do you think we could communicate a request for Sandefjordsmør sauce?” Maja regarded the pink substance on her utensil. “It shouldn’t be too difficult. Milk, lemon... okay, parsley might be tricky, we might end up with hemlock or something if we don’t draw it correctly.”

“You could just draw a packet of Toro Sandefjordsmør sauce, and they could lift it from the supermarket with a tractor beam or something,” Sofia pointed out.

“Damn it!” Frida slapped the table, hard, and the girls noticed the alien observers stepping back in response. “Are we just resigned to being here for the rest of our lives, a zoo exhibit at best, and a scientific specimen at worst? They’ve already poked around my brain; what if they decide to dissect us to see what makes us tick?”

Sofia took her hand. “I’m sorry, Frida. You didn’t ask to be part of this—none of us did. I just don’t see how we could possibly get home unless the aliens actually want to take us. We have no idea where we are, I can’t even see a way of leaving these rooms without the aliens having us restrained, because they’re so afraid of us.”

“Our friend isn’t, though,” Maja said, thoughtfully.

Sofia acknowledged the point, but noted, “There’s only one of her.”

“Might that be enough?” said Frida, suddenly hopeful. “If we could explain to her what we want—and if she agreed... Like, if she actually got us out of this room, we could easily force our way to a spaceship or something.”

“She’d have to fly us back,” said Sofia. “Would she? Could she? She’s a zookeeper, not a pilot. And even if she could, she’d be in a lot of trouble, I’d bet. I doubt she’d want to live on Earth.“

“We’re not going to get anything if we don’t ask,” Maja pointed out. “We’re going to need a picture that says what we want—clearly. Maybe a couple of pictures. We should be able to do that, right? Then, next time she comes here, we show her the picture.”

“We’d better be careful who else we show it to,” Frida warned.

“Okay!” Sofia squeezed Frida’s hand. “We’ve nothing to lose. Let’s draw the best damn picture ever used to communicate with an alien. Draw like your freedom depends on it, ladies.”

Åsa was extremely confused. Like Astrid before her, she had woken up in paralysis, and initially wasn’t sure what was happening—she’d worked a full day before the club shift, and after the fun she’d had with Astrid was quite exhausted, so she’d lain awake for a few minutes before opening her eyes.

Seeing a solemn alien figure staring at her, she initially thought she must have ed out at the club. Wait, no—they’d come back to Astrid’s. They’d had a lot of fun. So this wasn’t the club. Had Astrid sneaked one of the animatronic aliens away with her? Surely Åsa would have noticed!

She tried to speak, but her mouth refused to open and her vocal cords refused to do so much as twitch. Starting to panic, she tried to sit up, but the rest of her body was similarly frozen. She could feel Astrid next to her, but the girl was motionless too.

She watched as the alien—which, she now saw, was moving much more smoothly and freely than the club models—picked up a framework of some kind, and fastened it around her head. It seemed to have considerably trouble doing so, but finally appeared satisfied—in as much as she could understand its facial expressions, which was not far at all.

It tugged at the sheets, previously covering Åsa up to her neck—Astrid apparently liked her apartment cold—and eventually managed to pull them down to Åsa’s waist. Then, for some reason, it froze—something about Åsa’s more than ample chest apparently to fascinate it. Eventually, though, it pulled the sheet further down to uncover Åsa’s puss—and, again, froze.

Didn’t expect to see that, did you? Åsa thought, smugly. She had done a lot of research on the Futhark writing, and language, and was unreasonably confident that it translated as “loose wench”.

Eventually, the alien appeared to regain its awareness, and hopped off the bed.

The only thing stopping Åsa going fully hysterical internally was that the whole thing didn’t feel at all real. Paralysis? Aliens? Surely just a dream—but she really did feel awake. It was very confusing.

As her vision switched to blackness, she was almost relieved—perhaps this was when she would get back to sleep? The spinning sphere of colored clouds that appeared was further reassurance that this was just a weird dream, and she should just enjoy it.

She watched as the different colored wispy clouds detached from the sphere and floated towards her. A teal cloud enveloped her, and for some reason she felt her confusion increase. What was going on? A cyan cloud was next, and a shiver of fear ran through her otherwise paralyzed body.

This was certainly one of the weirder experiences of her life, even counting the lutefisk incident at high school, but her more adventurous friends had always told Åsa to expand her horizons. This seemed to qualify, although quite which horizon this was, was anyone’s guess.

A pink-mauve streak started on the surface of the globe, and Åsa watched with fascination as it widened and spread, consuming nearly all the globe. As it did so, a thick branch of the pink cloud, much more substantial than the isolated tendrils so far, detached itself, and headed for Åsa. She hung in the void, seeing it grow until it filled her vision. Then it wrapped around her...

Oh my! The paralysis persisted, but the sudden thrust of lust and sexual excitement that bored through her made her instantly wet. What is this? Whatever it is, don’t stop! It felt strange, not quite like her usual arousal, as if she had somehow ed into someone else’s rising climax. Nevertheless, she was very happy to let herself go, and surf the waves.

“The second specimen is running at about sixty percent of the arousal of the first one,” Lati reported, eyes darting across her console projection. The read-outs from the two O-trons were displayed side-by-side, and by displacing the active one’s time axis, the synchronicity between the active and ive was clear.

“Can you crank up the O-tron?” Remi wondered, fascinated. Her thermal viewer showed the rapidly increasing heat from the paralyzed bodies, and she wondered how hot they could get.

“It’s at the programmed safety limit.” Lati shook her head. “I’d have to get into the hardware to override it.” She double-checked that she had captured all the data. “Okay; we’re going to have to make a quick exit here, so I’ll take the console and one O-tron to the ship, then I’ll come back to help you clean up. Just make sure they don’t come off the neurojacks in the meantime.”

“Got it,” Remi acknowledged. “Watch yourself!”

She watched Lati load up the bulky equipment, then switch on her cloak device and vanished. Remi’s thermal viewer could just about make out the heat shadow movement as Lati phased through the door.

She watched the two humans for a few minutes, before a thought occurred to her. The O-tron might be at its limit, but the headsets had a separate amplification control. What if she were to increase it? Just a little bit, no harm there. She pulled out her own universal controller, paired it to the headsets, and entered “1.1” as the amplification—give the humans another 10% of stimulation.

She was surprised to see the heat from the humans start to increase, noticeably. Sweat started to run down their faces. Her neurojack control started to report rapidly rising brain stem activity, quickly approaching the limit of what the darts could block. Ultrasonic warning tones sounded from both headsets.

Lati phased back through the door. “Ready to go?” She noticed the tones. “What the... Get the headsets off!”

She and Remi scrambled to the humans. Lati grabbed the O-tron, now slippery with sweat, and holstered it before locating the disassembly button on the blonde’s headset. The framework split apart neatly, folding into a bundle of long sticks in Lati’s hand. Remi had just done the same for her human, staring dumbly at the flushed wet face.

“Let’s get out of here!” Lati jumped to the floor, Remi just behind her. Not even bothering with the cloak, they phased through the door just as the neurojack darts in the humans overloaded, and disintegrated.

Leaning against the wall in the corridor, Lati and Remi listened with horrified fascination to the shrieks, screams, thuds, and ripping noises as the two hyper-stimulated humans went for each other. Finally regaining some presence of mind, she re-enabled her cloak, and a sheepish Remi ed her.

“What... did... you... do?” she asked, trying to control herself.

“I just upped the stimulation amplitude by ten percent,” mumbled Remi. “It shouldn’t have done that—should it?“

Lati checked her headset’s configuration, and took a long deep breath. “No, Remi, you set the unit amplification to 1.1, so each time the signal traveled from one human to another, it increased by ten percent. Do you know what feels like?” She shoved her finger in Remi’s ear, down to her last knuckle. “Like that!“

These days, Keeper Faso eschewed visiting the humans during public viewing time. She understood the value of her fellow citizens seeing real aliens, and even feeling connections with them, but still it felt... undignified. She sighed. Her training mentor had seen the signs early on: “You’re going to be a great Keeper, Faso, because you truly care for your charges. However, that will make your job much harder than it would otherwise be.”

The humans had finished eating by the time she entered, and were growling quietly—talking, she corrected herself—at the table. It took a few minutes for them to notice her; she habitually stood still just by the portal after entering, not wanting to startle them, and in any case she found it almost charming, watching the humans share time with each other, holding limbs and nuzzling, and the occasional bout of louder, higher-pitch growling and showing teeth—which terrified the audience, but which Faso knew was a sign of happiness.

Soeea was first to notice Faso, waving her hand to show that she had seen her. Maia and Freda turned, and made the same gesture, so Faso followed their lead.

Soeea rose from the table and walked to one of the drawing frames, followed by the other two. Faso slowly walked up, seeing that Soeea was calling up an image from the gallery. Curious, she peered up as the frame displayed it.

It was well drawn for humans, she had to it. They’d clearly taken a lot of time over it, and she had no problem identifying the various entities depicted, and even the implicit flow of time though the images. She stared at it for a while, apparently frozen, though the circuits of her mind were busier than they had been for a long time.

She turned to the humans and, to her considerable surprise, they all went to their knees. Their eyes locked onto Faso, but for some reason she no longer felt like prey. This was... This was a plea for help.

She turned back to the picture, thought for a minute, then reached up to sketch a small, green-gray figure in the appropriate place. With some trepidation, she faced the humans again.

Astrid had felt the climax rise within her, while being completely unable to react to it. For a short time, it had been holding her just below climax—her paralyzed body straining to react to the persistent signals—but then, she had seen the clouds covering the spinning globe turn pink, and start to peel off towards her. As the first one touched, she felt the urges increase, until she thought she might burst. The pink clouds came faster and faster, thicker and more lurid, and now she was on fire! She felt like she could break iron bonds if they were holding her hands away from her pussy...

The globe hallucination suddenly vanished, and for a moment she was staring at the alien again, the creature’s deep blue eyes expressionless. Then the alien leapt off the bed, and vanished.

Seconds later, the paralysis that had been holding her body—and voice—evaporated, and her first action was to scream: “FUCK ME!”

Another voice followed hers almost immediately. She rolled around, fingers already dripping, to stare into Åsa’s flushed, confused, but extremely horny face. There was a pause, not even a second long—and then they went for each other like rabid mongooses.

Bedside lamps went flying, one of them smashing as Åsa’s flailing foot slammed it against the wall. Sheets tore, ripped out of the way as a mouth desperately hunted for the sweet, urgent taste of another’s sex. Sweat-streaked bodies grappled, rolled across the mattress, and thudded onto the carpet—cushioned by discarded throw pillows.

Astrid might have ed out, briefly, but as the red haze of near-catatonic lust started to fade from her vision, she found herself with her head nearly wedged between Åsa’s magnificent boobs, while her fingers were working their slippery way around the girl’s sex.

She paused for a moment, uncertain, and heard a moan from underneath her.

“Oh, don’t stop now!” A hot tongue slipped illicitly into her, making her squeak.

Astrid resumed her attentions, quietly shivering as someone expertly worked their way around her clit, but her head was starting to clear.

“Åsa?”

“Mmmh?” Someone had their mouth full. She could tell.

“What just happened?”

The tongue gave her nub a flick of disapproval. There was a pause as Åsa worked her way out from underneath.

“Well,” Åsa said, reproachfully, “dare I say, we were having a very good time together until someone tapped out.” She blew her damp hair off her face and gave Astrid a pouting look, albeit one with a smirk behind it.

Astrid stroked Åsa’s chest in apology, making the girl giggle and squirm. “I know, I’m sorry honey—and it was a very good time. But before that... I think I was having a weird dream. Really weird...“

“Did it involve a naughty, buxom bartender taking advantage of poor, naive, little you?” Åsa asked, innocently. “Because I might have news for you... Maybe if you come back under the sheets, you might have the dream continue!” Her fingers slipped between Astrid’s legs.

Astrid pulled the sheets over her head, and surrendered to the inevitable.

Keeper Faso walked into Professor Mifa’s office, much more placid than the last time she had visited. The Professor had sent a polite message asking if she would be able to come over when convenient, so, after ensuring that her own staff were managing the zoo specimens properly, Faso wandered over to the office complex.

“Keeper Faso! A pleasure to see you, as ever.” Mifa pushed her console viewer to the side. “How are my favorite specimens?”

This kind of bonhomie immediately raised Faso’s suspicions, but she had nothing to go on, so decided to play innocent. “All in good health, and keeping active. They are still our top hit with the zoo audience.”

“Quite so!” beamed Mifa. “And, I believe, congratulations are due to you, Keeper Faso!”

“Well, thank you, but how so?” Faso’s suspicion level was climbing.

“The drawing frames,” Mifa explained. “Showing the audience the level of creativity which the specimens can achieve—your original idea, I understand, Keeper Faso?”

Now, all Faso’s internal alerts were flashing red. She looked hard at Mifa—and knew that she knew.

“No doubt, you’ve reviewed their work yourself,” she said sarcastically.

“I have, I have indeed,” smiled Mifa. “And, do you know what I found?”

“I’m dying to know.” Internally, Faso was already resigned to the loss of her position. Cleaning out the wolverine enclosure was probably the best future she could hope for.

“I found that you might be able to help me with my current problem.”

Faso paused. This was not how she had expected the conversation to develop. She temporised: “How so?“

“Let me show you.” Mifa pulled up the recordings from the Terran club opening night, and hit Play.

The women had developed a tradition of late evening hot chocolate drinks. With some work, and ingenuity, they had managed to communicate a request for the same substance as Fruknøtt, mixed with the produce of udders, in nearly-boiling water, with sucrose (after Frida ed the organic formula). Needless to say, there had been a good few abortive attempts, but eventually the aliens had produced a do-it-yourself mix that tasted quite acceptable.

Had the women known that the udders in question did not belong to cows, they may have found the drink less appealing. Still, wolverine milk is famed for its nutritional value, and it provided entertainment for Keeper Faso to watch her interns try to acquire the base material.

“It must have been more than a month since we told our friend about the idea to leave,” Maja remarked. “What do you think? Is she just politely ignoring us?”

Sofia shrugged. “It seemed very clear that she understood us. Maybe, she simply doesn’t have the ability to do anything meaningful?”

They went back and forth on the topic for a while, completely missing the silent appearance of two aliens at the portal. Only after ten minutes did Frida notice a familiar color out of the corner of her eye.

“Hey, she’s here...” Her voice tailed off.

Sofia supplied the missing words. “And she’s brought a buddy.” The trio stared at the second alien, somewhat shorter and more pale than their friend.

“I do believe, that’s the ‘lecturer’ who was showing me off,” Sofia said, thoughtfully.

“And the one conducting that experiment with our thoughts,” Maja agreed. “Who went kinda crazy when you went all cavewoman on them, Sof.”

“That’s the one who shaved me bald, and stuck something into my brain,” Frida growled, rising from her seat. “Now, I get to stick something into hers—oomph!”

Maja and Sofia did a creditable simultaneous tackle, pulling their friend back down onto the bench.

“Hold off,” Sofia urged. She cast a look at the aliens, and they both looked alarmed, though the newcomer was actively trying to hide behind their friend. “Let’s see what our friend has to say, first.”

Frida yielded, grudgingly, to her friends’ entreaties, and settled back on the bench. She nevertheless maintained a stink-eye fixed on the smaller alien.

Faso’s expert eye saw the sudden jump in hostility as the humans apparently recognized Professor Mifa. The near-simultaneous narrowing and refocusing of eyes, positional shifts, and baring of teeth had her briefly worried for her own safety. Not that the humans would have deliberately injured her, she was sure, but Mifa’s prompt use of Faso as cover was not helpful.

“Get out from behind me, you idiot,” she snarled. “If the humans want you dead, there’s absolutely nothing I can do to stop them. Stop showing guilt, and let me do the talking.“

She spread her hands wide—“look! no sleep sticks” and took very slow steps towards Soeea, who she now realized had taken the pack leadership role.

Soeea appeared to calm Freeda, then moved around the bench to approach Faso. She reached out, and gently—for a human—touched Faso’s cheek. Faso felt the cool, slightly rough human skin on her own smooth skin, and gave it a short press with her own hand. She let out the breath that she had been holding in.

“We’re okay,” she reported to a petrified Mifa. “Just try not to do anything stupid.”

She reached into her pouch for the three chunks of treat that she’d spent a good hour synthesizing, getting as close to the original as possible. She ed them to Soeea, who bobbed her head in acknowledgement of the gift, then turned to the drawing frames.

Faso closed her eyes briefly, drawing strength from within. Could she get the message across? Would the humans actually accept it?

Their alien friend was busy at the drawing frame, so the women chewed on the almost-chocolate as they watched her.

“This isn’t the original,” Maja itted, “but it’s not bad. I’d buy it.”

“And we get it for free. Go us!” Frida, now over her hostile episode, made a wry face.

“What’s she trying to communicate?” Sofia squinted at the drawings that were now populating all the frames. “Those figures are definitely us. That one on the right in the second image is you, Frida, for all the tea in China. So, they take Frida to Earth—if that’s what that globe is. And us? What’s the third image of?”

“It’s that laboratory!” hissed Maja. “That’s you, Sof, and me, on those damned operating tables. Something about our heads—something going into them?”

“And then we Frida, on Earth.” Sofia sounded thoughtful.

Their friend stood to the side, pointed at the image of Sofia and Maja in the laboratory, and looked at the trio with her deep blue eyes.

“Oh, my.” Maja swallowed. “I think she’s laying out a condition.”

“Talk about a fucking Faustian bargain...” Sofia looked through the framed images repeatedly, but they itted no extra information. “If we get something in our brains—like Frida did, and we’ve seen at least some of how that turns out—they’ll send us back to Earth. No idea where. Or even when.”