The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The story of Lost Angels is not over. How could it be? This is one of the most conflicted cities in the new world. The story of Janet Campbell might have faded into Orchid’s, but the plant woman is far from the mindless slut the Aspect of Lust had in mind. Her story continues...

However, I will not be the one telling it. We can’t just keep talking about the Californian metropolis. There’s a whole world worth of Nightmare, and I have still so many stories left.

For this next story, we’re headed through time and across the Pacific. Yep, we’re rewinding the clock. Goodbye America, we’re now in Tokyo when it was hit by Nightmare. And if you thought Los Angeles hit hard...well, prepare for a goddamn doozy.

Oh, and hot tip—in Japan, you say the family name first.

The elevator doors opened, revealing a wheelchair-bound forty-something man inside. He smiles. The young lady standing at the threshold of the handicapped-only elevator might not need a wheelchair herself, but he knows she has every right to ride it.

“Morning, Waita-san.” He greets.

“An excellent morning to you, Saionji-san!” She bows deeply in response before stepping in the steel box.

She uses her crutch to carry herself in, and pushes her floor’s button. Saionji Kenshiro, head of the tourism office, always comes in via the underground parking space. She, Waita Minako, a mere ant, always comes by public transportation. When their respective commutes happen to overlap, they meet in the elevator. In time, the two disabled Tokyo government employees came to know each other fairly well.

“So, that Europe situation is worrisome, isn’t it?”

“It is...” Answered Minako. “Though to be honest, I can’t bring myself to believe it, you know?”

She wished.

“Yes, it is rather unbelievable...” Sighed the executive. “Sadly, a good friend of mine works in Berlin, and I haven’t been able to him. At this point, I pretty much have to dismiss that situation to be a canular, as inconceivable as it is.”

“I see...Sorry for your loss, Saionji-san.”

“Thank you. How is your new prosthesis?”

“Still not comfortable without a crutch, as you can see, but my doctor is confident.”

“You are a dutiful and diligent woman. I am certain you will manage.”

“Oh, please, you’re embarassing me. I’m nobody special...”

“You go to work, like every dutiful person here, without a left leg. Of course you are special, Waita-san. You are the kind of person this country needs! Keep walking your own path, and I am confident you will one day be the head of your own office.”

Minako was a modest, humble girl, but felt oddly uplifted by the director’s words. She bowed.

“I...I’ll do my best, Saionji-san!”

As if on cue, the elevator chimes and a cheery female voice announces Minako’s floor, the 95th. She begs her leave, then limps her way into a sunny new day.

The disabled Japanese young woman is nothing if not positive. Though plain of features, her thin yet lively body and her simple, short hairstyle with a cute pink hairband puts her at the crossroads between active young professional and innocent schoolgirl. Though unlike a schoolgirl, she wears pants at all times—skirts are kind of a fashion faux-pas when sporting an artificial leg. And sure, there is nothing joyous about losing most of one’s left leg during childhood, but she had soldiered through this ordeal, and could now genuinely smile every day.

She could live by herself, had steady employment, and at the Tokyo Metropolitan Government, no less! Even her ice dragon of a grandmother deigned praise her. But while it undoubtedly felt amazing to have her efforts so recognized, the dearest lesson she took out of her decades-long ordeal was that, in the end, humans always end up breaking out of despair and smiling.

It didn’t always seem that way, though, especially not this week.

When the newscasts first reported the strange phenomena in Europe, the commentary at her office, at first, mostly consisted of disconnected “is this for real?” or “Must be an ad campaign”. One didn’t want to appear unsympathetic to foreigners being turned into monsters, but, you know, it couldn’t possibly be real, could it? Best express your skepticism.

But Minako knew it was no hoax. Inexplicable and wildly impossible by any standards, yes, yet terrifyingly real. And it didn’t take news footage of a minotaur rampaging through a military squad for her to realize it. Those were just pictures, convincing as they were. No...It took our tightly interconnected world for her to truly internalize that what was thought as normal was on its way out. One by one, European websites went down at best, and displayed ominous glitchy screens at worst. Acquaintances couldn’t be reached. Shipments arrived broken or, more rarely, warped in bizarre shapes. She had heard, for instance, a crate of champagne arriving as one single, square bottle.

Minako herself found about the all too real gravity of the situation three days after the first reports. She was at home, late in the evening. She had put her prosthesis and her crutch aside, enjoying the comfort of her wheelchair. It was a simple model, unfit to brave the infamous Tokyo rush hour, but perfect to kick back at home after a day of balancing herself on a feat of engineering her sense of balance still barely knew what to do with.

She was partaking in a lesser-known online game, when, on a whim, she decided to check the European server. It was a bit wonky, but functional enough for her to see it was a goddamn wasteland. No one was there besides a few Asian or American gamers. She chatted with them, and found most of them had logged in there to satisfy the exact same curiosity as hers. They decided to split up in every zone the game had. Their efforts eventually led to finding a local European player.

One.

And the guy told them he had rebuilt his computer and router from scratch to make them “Dreamscape-worthy”. One guy from Korea asked him how much time it took him.

“Was a pain in the ass. Had to find instruction book. Took me bout a month.”

Minako blinked several times, reading the impossible timeframe over and over, then shut down her computer right then and there. She hadn’t returned to that online game since, but merely going to work the next day led her to observe that many colleagues had come to the same realization—This phenomenon was 1) Real, 2) Terrifying and 3) If it ever reached Japan...

The conclusion was left hanging. As part of the Tokyo government, they all had work to do. After all, what was the alternative? Ask the hierarchy to let them mount a rescue mission in Europe? Not likely. That was true four days ago, and it was still true today. And so, after greeting her coworkers, Minako sat down on her special-order chair and booted her computer up for a day of diligent ing.

You know, as a girl who dreamed about an impossibly fucked Earth for as long as she can , I can relate to Minako.

How does constant nightmares compare with a fucking amputated leg, you ask? Well, for one thing, you can’t sort crippling disorders, especially not by how readily apparent they are. How do you think you would do if you were terrified of rest? Fucking try it. I was sleep-deprived and extremely stressed out all the freaking time, and really irritable whenever someone wanted to talk about his stupid goddamn dream. Tourette’s making you swear all the time is actually rare, but whatever I have sure works!

Second, humans are social creatures, and anything that sets you off the norm will find a way to make people reject you. When you’re different, you make people uncomfortable, and they damn well make sure to return the favor. That’s how discrimination works. Hell, that’s why Minako chose a prosthesis in the first place even though being amputated above the goddamn knee makes it difficult. She wants to appear as normal as possible.

But you’d better believe me when I say a mental disorder works just as well as a prosthesis to make people hate you. Worse—progressive people might be excellent to the obviously handicapped, but not give a fucking toss about stammerers or people whose working arm got turned into pain central. When you look normal, even those who are willing to get past their prejudice get fucked by a brain glitch that makes you assume that if the guy looks okay, then he is okay, and his “handicap” has to be phony somehow. Fun fact: that makes effort to overcome your handicap completely counterproductive.

Now, I’m not saying everyone is Hitler. Not at all. People just can’t help feeling uncomfortable next to different people. It’s brain chemistry, how the fuck are you going to help it? The only way to overcome it is to become close with the different person, or at least extensively learning about them. You can, however, can fairly reliably be called an asshole when your way of dealing with said brain chemistry is to actively take steps to ruin the handicapped person’s life. Which very much includes telling him to just get over it and act normal already. Bonus points if you pretend to care.

Yeah, I’ve got some steam to vent about my first and only boss, how could you tell?

Anyway. Enough bitter ranting. Story.

A long, hard day of work checking a megalopolis’ s and balances rolled past, and it being June, the sun still wasn’t out by a long shot. Sadly, as long as their boss was at it, leaving the office was a big no-no for any Japanese office worker; and after Mr. Saionji’s morning pep talk, Minako felt she had to do her best. So when she received a text on her smartphone, she took good twenty more minutes of filling out balance sheets before checking the text. To her surprise, it wasn’t her friends Shio or Shizuku. In fact, it was...her physiatrist?

“I happen to be visiting Toch Es South observation deck today. I’d love to treat you if you are able.”

She scratched her head. Toch Ewas the informal name for her workplace, which ittedly had a pretty long formal title. Besides housing the Tokyo Metropolitan Government, it also had two observation decks on the 45th floor, both freely accessible to the public. After all, Toch Ewas one of the tallest buildings in Japan, and offered a breathtaking view of the megalopolis.

Still, her rehabilitation therapist, Minamoto Hideaki, going sightseeing in the middle of the day? Despite the situation feeling a bit strange, Minako just couldn’t restrain her curiosity. She just finished texting a positive reply when...

“Hey, Minako-chan!” Chirped Erika, her closest colleague. “We’re going to an Okonomiyaki tonight, wanna ?”

“Would love to, Erika-chan, but my physiatrist just invited me to the panorama.”

“Whaa? Why would he? Have you been flirting with him, you naughty girl?”

“Whaaat? No way! I’m as surprised as you are!”

“So you’re going to see what this is about, heh?”

“Yes, exactly.” Nodded the amputee.

“Go for it then! I’ll cheer for you!”

Minako pouted.

“Minamoto-sensei isn’t like that, geez!”

After her friend left giggling, she grabbed her crutch and made her way to the special elevator.

The South Tower 45th floor, where the tourist-accessible panoramas were, was nothing if not a familiar place to Minako. Though the North tower’s panorama showed a more impressive Tokyo Skyline with the sheer number of skyscrapers, she preferred the South because you could see two of Tokyo’s greatest parks—Shinjuku Gyoen and Shibuya’s Yoyogi Park, both of which had been her places of solace when relearning how to walk. How fitting, then, than her therapist wanted to meet her there.

She hobbled a bit across the grey carpet, looking at the tourists taking pictures of the panorama or buying souvenirs from the shops. But it was when she thought of looking in the caf Ethat she finally spotted her doctor. She smiled, and went to him.

Minamoto Hideaki. A tall, muscular man in his late thirties sporting an impeccable white suit. The man who gave her a new chance at life. She made her way to her table, then bowed as low as her body allowed her to.

“Minamoto-Sensei! Your text really surprised me!”

“Hello, Waita-San. Yes, it was rather unconventional, wasn’t it? Let me introduce to you...”

He extended his hand forward. Minako hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t alone.

“My daughter, Kaede.”

Indeed, across the table sat an adorable little girl with straight black hair slurping away at a chocolate parfait. Minako pulled a stupid, cuteness-induced smile instantly.

“Hi!”

“Hi!” Answered the girl with a bright smile. “Oto-san said you work here!”

“Yep! I help take care of Tokyo’s money. How old are you, Kaede-chan?”

“I’m eight! I’m a big girl!”

“So you are!”

She sat down, not without difficulty.

“So, what brings you here, Minamoto-Sensei?”

“Habit, actually. Kaede loves the view. I just tend to bring her friday afternoon. Are you getting used to your prosthesis?”

“It’s slow going, but it’s going, Sensei. I really look forward to the day I can lose the crutch.”

“Just take it steady,” He smiled confidently. “It will come.”

The physiatrist turned to his daughter as she was finishing her parfait.

“You can go enjoy the view if you want.”

“All by myself? Can I?”

“Of course you can, Kaede, you’re eight after all, that comes with responsibilities!”

“Yaay! Thank you papa!”

The little girl took off and skipped to the large windows outside the caf E Hideaki was just about to say something when...

“Excuse me, Miss? Can I take your order?”

Minako turned around, saw a waitress, and returned her smile.

“Yes! A Fondant au Chocolat please!”

“Right away, Miss!”

“Thank you!” The civil servant turned to her therapist. “You were about to say something?”

“No, it’s stupid, forget it.”

After a little while, as Kaede was frolicking along the windows, Minako resolved to ask the question that burned to cross her lips. Life had taught her bad things had to be adressed head-on, and she knew her physiatrist wouldn’t be surprised.

“So...If it’s the highlight of her week, why isn’t her mother with you? Divorce?”

“Yes.”

“Did she cheat?”

“Yes, but not in the way you think.”

“How so?”

“I was the one she cheated with.”

What? How did that work? Courtesy caught up with the handicapped ant and she blurted out an apology for being so nosy, though her curiosity wasn’t yet extinguished.

“Nah, it’s alright. I met Rumi when I was still a surgeon.” Explained Hideaki. “She was a newly hired nurse and I was just about to quit because of all the politics involved. I wanted to help people, not be the hospital’s resident living advertisment. Rumi was the one to suggest physiatry. It’s pretty much all helping people all the way. It freed my schedule to a manageable level, so we could freely have Kaede. It was great. And then, one day, a teenage boy knocked at my door.”

“Who was he?”

“Her first son.”

“Oh.”

“She had abandoned her family for reasons best left unsaid, and had sought a new life with me. Long story short, her first husband had just died, and for the boys, it was either getting her back or be separated into different foster families. They needed her way more than I did, so I convinced her to go back to her old life.”

Minako had absolutely no idea how to react to this, so she resorted to bowing in apology again by default.

“I’m so sorry for prying, Sensei. Thanks for telling me this, but...I did not expect you to go so far...Please forgive me.”

He looked to the window with a dreary glaze over his eyes.

“You have nothing to apologize about. I guess the times are simply ripe for unloading.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. Armageddon.”

Gulp.

“We don’t know for sure, Sensei.”

“Yes we do. Europe’s gone, as are most Asian capitals. The story about a crazy Chinese guy raising an army believing he’s Liu Bei? I’m pretty sure it’s linked to this. There are reports of the phenomenon showing up in Los Angeles too. Whatever the Hell this is, it’s not confined to Europe. It’s coming...And coming fast.”

Minako fell silent. She wanted to argue, but...it was just a question of when, was it?

“Oto-san! Oto-san! Come look!” Came Kaede’s voice from the panorama’s window, as she was excitedly pointing outside. Dr. Minamoto Hideaki went to see and and follow his daughter’s finger. There seemed to be nothing but the ordinary Tokyo skyline.

Minamoto -sensei and Waita-san went to look, but, saw nothing. Yet, in a common agreement sealed with a mere wink, they said...

“Oh, yes, what a beautiful color!”

“Oh...It’s going away! back to the sea!”

The physiologist refrained from telling the sea wasn’t anywhere near Tochō. It was her daughter’s moment, let him have it, right?

...No.

Because that’s what he saw it. Minako, right behind him, did as well.

There was a fish...And a sea.

Right above their heads.

And that’s when Saionji-san made a move. He rose up from his wheelchair and pointed a finger at Minako.

Now that’s it. You’re vulnerable to Nightmare. You shall be my slave.

The CEO sent a blast of pure Nightmare towards Waita Minako, while more and more sea creatures poured out from the sky...But her physiatrist saved her, showing a prowess even he know he possessed. And that’s when Saionji capitalized on his temporary weakness and kidnapped Waita.

Next thing she knew, she was...In a mansion deep in the mountains, surrounded by pale-skinned...Anime would call them Yamato Nadeshiko. The Idealized woman, young, vulnerable, elegant, and utterly subserviant to her husband.

“I told you you were a good employee, didn’t I? Time to prove it. Your walking stick is no longer your most important rod in the world...Mine is.”