The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Charlotte

I pushed open the door to the MRI room and was immediately hit by a wall of stale air. The place was a mess: papers scattered everywhere, empty coffee cups, and what looked like someone’s makeshift bed in the corner. I wrinkled my nose at the stench of sweat and unwashed bodies.

Two women stood in the corner, standing in place. One was younger, petite with chestnut hair in a messy bun, probably Dr. Phoebe Conrad. Her face matched with the voice I had heard in the MRI room. The other one was too old to be Conrad anyway. She was tall and slender with silver-streaked dark hair in a precise bob—had to be Dr. Ramona Quinn. Neither looked like they’d had a proper shower in days.

“Sorry about the state of the place,” the older one said, gesturing vaguely at the chaos as I closed the door behind me.

I shrugged, trying to put them at ease. “Trust me, I’ve known far worse...” The tension seemed to drain from their shoulders as they started moving around again.

“Coffee?” Phoebe Conrad offered, gesturing to a small electric kettle in the corner. “It’s instant, but it’s caffeine.”

“God, yes,” I said, grateful for the offer. “Black as you can make it.”

While Phoebe busied herself with the coffee, Ramona Quinn awkwardly attempted small talk. “Thank you for coming, Ms. Corbin. I hope your room was to your liking and that you were able to get some rest. We appreciate you taking the time to meet us.”

“Charlotte is fine,” I said. “The room was nice, and it’s not like I had a busy schedule.”

Phoebe snorted. “Ramona doesn’t do small talk well. She’s better with viruses than people.”

“I communicate efficiently,” Ramona replied stiffly, but I caught the hint of a smile.

I accepted the steaming mug from Phoebe, feeling myself relax a little. “So, is it true? You two aren’t claimed?”

Ramona nodded. “Not only are we not claimed, we’re not programmed either. But we could be. The virus infected us like everyone else. That’s why we stay here, where we can be protected from any transmission from The Source.”

“It’s nice to see you,” Phoebe said, perching on the edge of a desk. “We haven’t been face-to-face with a woman in… well, a while.”

I understood immediately. “I imagine you don’t trust claimed women inside your little sanctuary.” I took a sip of the bitter coffee, savoring the burn. “It’s nice to be with free women too. The claimed ones freak me out. Those creepy smiles, the way they look at their ‘owners.’” I suppressed a shudder, memories of Cameron’s house flashing through my mind. “For a moment I thought I was the only one left, at least around here.”

Concern crossed Phoebe’s face. “What you went through… are you okay?”

“I’m alright,” I said firmly, squaring my shoulders. “It was tough, but I did what I had to do. Survival is kind of my thing.” I touched the scar above my eyebrow instinctively.

Phoebe looked down at her coffee. “I don’t know if I could have pretended for so long that I was claimed, to go through what it… involved.”

“You mean fucking Cameron?” I said bluntly, watching her flinch. “Yeah, it was fucked up. He was twisted. Made us compete for his attention.” My voice hardened, but I kept my emotions in check.

Ramona cleared her throat. “Is it correct that you’re a pilot?”

“Yeah, civilian. Mountain Air Charter.” I narrowed my eyes. “Why? You need a pilot? Because I’ll help you.” The determination in my voice surprised even me. “If you’re really working on what you say you’re working on, count me in.”

“As far as I know, we don’t need a pilot,” Ramona said carefully. “But it could change. And we certainly could use someone we can trust right now.”

I frowned. “You can trust me. But why? Don’t you trust the men working with you? Gabriel? Edward? They saved me.”

The two scientists exchanged glances, a silent communication passing between them.

“As much as we’d like to trust them,” Phoebe finally said, “men are men. With women devoted to them, clearly trying to seduce them…” She trailed off. Yeah, I knew how that went.

Ramona picked up where she left off. “We’re worried about the risk, maybe limited, but still present, of some of them changing their mind about our mission before it can be completed.” She straightened her shoulders. “Though I’m happy to report we’re close to achieving it.”

“Edward mentioned you had military training,” Phoebe said, studying me with new interest.

I nodded, taking another sip of my coffee. “Yeah, I enlisted in the Air Force Reserve as a way to pay for flight school. Did some SERE training too: Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape.” I set my mug down on a nearby table. “It’s basically training for if you’re captured behind enemy lines. How to survive in hostile territory, avoid capture, resist interrogation if you are captured, and escape if possible.” I narrowed my eyes. “So, you gonna tell me what you need me for, or are we just gonna keep dancing around it?”

Phoebe glanced at Ramona, then moved to a filing cabinet in the corner. She reached behind it and pulled out something that had been taped to the back. When she returned, she handed me what looked like a cobbled-together electronic device, small enough to fit in my palm, with a digital screen, a few buttons, and a micro USB port. She also gave me a cable that would connect it to a standard USB port.

“What the hell is this?” I asked, turning it over in my hands. It looked like something a high school kid would make for a science fair.

“It’s a pocket VLF transmitter,” Ramona explained, her voice dropping slightly. “It can store programming in the Source signal format and transmit it, though it has a very limited range, about one meter.”

“We’re working on making two programs,” Phoebe continued. “A simple unclaiming program and the bigger program that will free women completely. Both should be ready by the end of the week, hopefully.”

Ramona nodded. “Theoretically, this device could transmit the freeing program too, but it’s not ideal. The complete program would take hours to be transmitted fully.”

“Not very convenient, freeing one woman at a time, standing next to her for hours,” I pointed out, still examining the device.

“Exactly,” Phoebe confirmed. “The device is mostly aimed at being used for the unclaiming program, which is much shorter—can be transmitted in about ten seconds, in theory. We haven’t tested it yet.”

I looked up from the device. “So you’re planning on hiding this tech from the men? Gabriel? Edward?”

The two scientists exchanged another look before Ramona spoke. “We won’t hide it. We’ll have Duncan Mercer work on producing more of them, and we’ll make announcements when appropriate.” She paused. “What we will be hiding, however, is that you have one.”

“Why?” I asked bluntly. “You don’t know me.”

“We don’t,” Ramona acknowledged. “But at this point, your interests are more likely to be aligned with ours than anyone else’s here. You’re a woman. You can’t claim other women. You’re free and can’t be claimed. You have more to gain with women becoming free again than the opposite.”

I nodded nervously, turning the device over in my hands. It made sense, but it was a hell of a responsibility to dump on someone they’d just met.

Ramona went to her desk, grabbed a blank piece of paper, and scribbled something on it before handing it to me. On it was a login with my name, a password, what looked like a file path in Echelon’s network, and a second password.

“We’ll put copies of both programs in this folder as soon as they’re ready,” she explained. “You can access it using these credentials from any computer at Echelon and download it into the pocket VLF transmitter. From there, it should be straightforward how to use it.”

She leaned closer, her voice dropping even further. “We don’t yet have anything specific we’re worried about, but if anything goes wrong, and it looks like Echelon is falling, we hope you’ll escape with the programs and the transmitter and make good use of them.”

“There’s also EISCAT in Norway,” she continued. “Our colleague Dr. Einar Vokter is there. If you manage to get there or transmit the program to him, he’ll know what to do. He has access to a powerful VLF transmitter that could broadcast our signal across the world.”

I stared at the paper, then at the device in my hand. “So I’m your backup plan.”