The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The sound of rushing water echoes through the hall as Anna gazes through her bedroom window. She spies her dad’s horseless carriage rusting as it rests in a far corner. A wooden swing dances in the wind, still tied to the same tree he picked out years earlier. Even today she could still feel the wind rushing through her hair as she gripped the tiny rope as her sister pushed her towards the heavens. What a difference fifteen years makes.

Anna closes her eyes, expecting any moment to wake up shivering in her cold cell. Five minutes later, she’s still standing in front of the window. If this is a Vang’s idea of a joke, it’s a particularly cruel one.

She glances at the twin bed in the corner. No detail was left overlooked, even the posters of Einstein and Fermat she posted above her head when she was a teenager in creche. Color her impressed.

“This isn’t real...” Anna gasps.

The thump-thump-thump of her sister’s footstep’s reverberate through the house. Yet Anna still can’t take her eyes off what she sees.

“Looks like the real thing, doesn’t it?” Dana’s smoky voice catches Anna off guard.

“What is this, I mean, how did you—”

“The Vang thrive on negativity—it’s why their mind games are so real. While I was being held captive I decided to create a space in my mind I could retreat to. So I recreated our house from memory. Somehow my activity created a pocket dimension where this house resides. Weird huh?”

“A home away from home,” Anna glances around. “So all of this is just an illusion?”

“You look like you could use a rest...” Dana lays a hand on her sister’s shoulder.

Anna is aghast as she stares at Dana’s verdant skin. Her sister’s once brunnette locks has been replaced by sopping wet purple hair. Anna glances at Dana, trying to reconcile the older woman in the terry cloth robe. Dana’s reptillian eyes gaze back in concern.

“What have you done to my sister?” Anna growls.

“I don’t understand...”

“You’re not my sister. What have you done to her?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about...”

Anna lunges toward Dana. The sisters grapple for several seconds as they writhe on the floor. Dana yelps as her sister yanks her hair. Several minutes and a few scratches later, they sit side by side, panting.

The two laugh as they recover their bearings.

“Just like old times, isn’t it?” Dana smiles and shakes her head.

She closes her eyes as she flashes back to the various experiments the Vang performed on her during her three year capture. Images of being strapped down repeat over and over as she recalls the medical probes inserted into her body. There would be thirteen operations in all before she fled into this alternate dimension. Dana shudders.

“The probes started as soon as I arrived...” She stares through the window. “The Vang thought I would be a good candidate for breeding. My genetic material and theirs was incompatible, so they tried to reeengineer my DNA. At first I tried to resist, but their mind games proved to be too much. By the time it was almost over they almost convinced me that I wanted to be impregnated. The experiments altered my genetic code so radically I was unable to conceive. My skin turned green, my hair changed color...I nearly died in the process. When they were through playing with me, they left me for dead. I fled after that.”

Anna glances at her sister.

“What’s with the suits?”

“There’s a network of rebels in the prisons. We’re trying to liberate the inmates one prisoner at a time. We do the best we can. I’m just a foot soldier.”

“My sister’s a spy.” Anna chuckles. “What would Dad think?”

“You look like you could use a rest.” Dana pats her on the knee. “Let me get dressed and we’ll talk about lunch.”

“Dana?” Anna glances over her shoulder.

“Yes?”

“Thanks for rescuing me.”

“No problem, sis.”

Anna pulls the covers over her head as she crawls into bed, feeling as though she’s returned from a very long semester at university. The house may only be an illusion. But at least it is home.

“Connection established.” Caitlin’s voice echoes in the comm. “In 5...4...3...2...1...”

Vanessa cracks her knuckles as she paces to and fro. She glances the fuzzy screen. The grizzled commander’s visage flickers on and off as Caitlin attempts to maintain the feed. Vanessa’s stomach tightens as she zips up her vest.

“Can you see me?” The commander leans forward.

“Positive.” Caitlin speaks into the mic.

“I read your file before I logged on.” The officer wrings his hands. “I wish there was something we could do. I’m sorry.”

“Are you sure?” Vanessa crosses her arms. “Couldn’t you send out a probe? A patrol ship, even?”

“According to your own report the alien craft sped up at a fast rate. By the time a probe team would be organized they’d be a million miles away.”

Caitlin shoots a look.

“I didn’t say it was a craft, sir...” Vanessa shakes her head.

“What was it then?” The commander asks.

“I don’t know,” She shrugs. “I wasn’t there.”

“Is there someone who was?”

“I saw the ship as it approached...” Caitlin leans forward. “I glanced at it briefly—it was only a speck when I saw it. I vaguely recall a triangular shape...though I can’t be sure.”

“Do you know what this triangular object look like?”

“Hard to say.” Caitlin shrugs. “I was too busy repairing our mainframe at the time. We all were. Matter of fact I still trying to resolve the issue when we were boarded by three or four reptillian individuals in space garb...”

“Was it three or was it four?”

“I don’t remember.” Caitlin’s voice wavers. “It all merges together in my mind...” The commander stares into the screen.”

The commander nods.

“I see...”

Vanessa grazes her chin as she paces to and fro. She furrows her brow as racks her brain, thinking of some detail—anything—that may have been overlooked. She flashes back to her initial encounter with the Vang months ago. She vaguely recalls a orb floating outside the porthole in the bar where she dined before the Vang boarded. It doesn’t

“Something bothering you?” The commander stares at her.

“It wasn’t a triangle.” she gazes at him. “It was an orb..”

The officer is taken aback.

“Pardon me?”

“A green sphere, about this high. I remember seeing it out of the corner of my eye when the research vessel I was assigned to was attacked months ago. I didn’t put two and two together...until now.”

“Positive?”

Vanessa nods.

“Don’t pay any attention to her...” Caitlin interrupts. “Ms. Graysmith is obviously disoriented from the trauma.”

“Even if we could verify her account,” The commander sighs. “we’d have a zillion to one chance of catching up with them.”

“Not exactly...” Vanessa crosses her arms. “If my memory serves me, the orb—or orbs, as the case may be—emit specific wavelengths that were picked up by the ships’ sensors. If we could analyze their records, we could determine their unique signatures. Pinpoint the signatures, pinpoint the orbs.”

“It’ll take us months to cross-reference every single ship!”

“Every little bit helps, sir.”

“Are you aware of what you’re suggesting?”

“Yes sir. But there are hundreds—perhaps millions—of captives who’ve been taken prisoner. People with husbands and boyfriends and families. Don’t you think they deserve something more than a plaque on a wall somewhere?”

The commander slumps in his seat.

“You got me,” He shakes his head. “I won’t make any promises, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“I don’t expect any less.”

End signal.

“I hope your fool’s errand is worth it...” Caitlin glares at Vanessa. “Still clinging on to that locket?”

Vanessa nods.

“I can feel her presence all around me.” She clutches it tightly. “Anna’s got to be alive. I just know it.”

Caitlin rolls her eyes.

“Whatever gets you through the night, I guess.”

The locket glimmers as Vanessa stares into deep space, feeling as though she’s won a victory. Albeit a very small one.

The reptillian warden paces to and fro as an endless loop of Anna’s rescue plays on the large monitor in the control room. He nervously wrings his scaly hands as underlings play the tape over and over, trying to determine the source of the shimmering white form in the corner of the screen. The indistinguishable blob hovers in the far corner of the screen, dissipating and reconstituting itself over and over ad infinitum. The warden hisses under his breath.

“Have you been able to resssoolve the image?” He glances at a technician.

“We’ve run it through our systems over and over, sir. No such luck.”

“Try harder, you fool!” The warden snaps.

His nostrils flare. He knows they’re only doing their jobs, but it’s hard to sympathize when there is a known fugitive out there taunting them with every single night. If he had his druthers, he’d be rounding out his career on an outworld colony with enough food and wenches to spare. But the Imperial Dynasty had other plans.

The warden fetches a contraband cigarette from his breast pocket and inhales. He savors the aroma of cloves and tobacco—the only human indulgence he allows himself. He ignores the disapproving stares of his colleagues as he stares at the screen, trying to wrap his head around the mysterious prisoner.

“Who’ssss the girl?”

“Some prisoner in cell block F. We’re trying to identify her right now.".

The warden glances at the image of Anna gliding in the air, laser beams flying around her. He squints as the shimmering form repeats ad nauseum. Though his eyesight has faded, he can make out the indistinct silhouette of a female figure. The cigarette dangles from his mouth as a shock of recognition comes over him. He can’t quite place it, but there’s something familiar about her. The warden searches his mind for answers.

“Something wrong, sir?”

“No, no...”

Yet as he watches the film, he can’t help thinking he’s met this woman before. A strange sensation of de je vu settles over him. He blinks in disbelief. Is that who he thinks it is?

“Freeze frame.” The warden barks.

The color drains from his face as he studies the image.

“Something wrong, sir?” The technician asks.

“It’s nothing.” The warden snaps out of his reverie. “Cross-reference the image of that silhouette from the databanks. If you find anyone matching that description, let me know immediately.”

He closes the door behind him as he walks into his office. He nurses a glass of blood as he fires up the vidscreen. He clutches his glass tightly as he stares at the screen, wondering how he’s going to explain how

“You look like feces, Snake.” His grizzled superior gazes at him. “Did you eat one too many bird eggs this morning?”

“The girl’s alive, Finch.” The warden announces without fanfare.

“I beg your pardon?”

“The girl we experimented on years ago, the one we thought was dead. She’s alive.”

Dead silence.

“When did you find out?” Finch leans forward in his chair.

“Five minutes ago,” The warden takes another shot of blood. “my people are resolving the image right now. It’s blurry, but I’m certain it’s her.”

Finch shakes his head ruefully.

“You’ll take care of it, right Snake?”

“I already have my best people on it...” The warden reassures him.

“I don’t need to tell you what will happen if she comes looking for us. It’ll be the ruin of us all.”

“I won’t let it get that far, sir.”

The warden paces nervously as the vidscreeen fades to black. He gazes through the window at the technicians outside, trying to figure out what a lone female left for dead is doing with an absconding prisoner. After three and a half years, the chickens are finally coming to roost. He nurses his drink and strikes up another smoke, blanketing the office with smoke.

“Pardon me, sir.” The technician pokes his head in. “We have a positive ID on the prisoner. Her name is Anna Marie Polly. She was brought here about a week ago. I’ve taken the liberty of sending her case file to your vidscreen for your pleasure.”

“And the silhouette on the screen?”

“We’ve searched through the entire databank sir. No one with that description has ever been in our records. Either the files were erased accidentally, or we’re dealing with a ghost.”

“Very well. Good job, Slither. I’ll be out shortly.”

The warden stares at the control room, with its technicians click-clacking away on the keys. He watches the loop play over once more on the giant monitor outside. Never has an image given him such pains.

“Snaky boy, Snaky boy,” He shakes his head ruefully. “What mess have you gotten yourself into now?”

He shakes off the thought as he steps stoically back into the control room—but feeling very far from calm.