The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Crescent City Stories: What the villains did next

Tags: bd, cb, ff, mc, md, mf, nc, rb

Having captured and converted both Ampere and Geist, the Confectioner turns his attention to the villains who tried to take over Crescent City during his absence.

* * *

Arc Five of Ampere’s continuing adventures begins with things looking pretty bleak for our heroine. This story follows on from The Return of the Confectioner and I recommend reading all four, previous arcs before continuing.

* * *

Fools rush in…

Crescent City slept, though fitfully. Night had crept furtively into the near-empty streets and only the brave, foolhardy or desperate ventured abroad.

Two latex-clad lovelies crept through the neon wasteland, their garish costumes negating any attempts at stealth. Arclight, the slender, bespectacled red-head, had been in the heroine game for far longer than her young protégée. But neither had quite made their mark, at least not yet.

But tonight, all that was going to change.

“So where is the Gadgeteer’s hideout?” Impetus whispered, unconsciously moving closer to her mentor.

Arclight smiled at the younger woman’s caution. One of the problems with being pretty much invulnerable was that you found yourself constantly fighting the urge to rush in without thinking. A little humility might not be such a bad thing, she reasoned.

“Right here,” she gestured, indicating an apparently unremarkable building.

“You’re sure?” the oriental lovely wondered out loud, instantly regretting the outburst.

Fighting the urge to reach out and stroke the blush from her sidekick’s cheek, Arclight waited a moment before replying. Part of her enjoyed watching the girl squirm, but she forced it down ruthlessly. Now was not the time for distractions.

“Cypher is,” she explained. “And that’s good enough for me.”

Nodding her understanding, the athletic brunette concentrated for a moment, forming her will into a thin-bladed, translucent sword. Then, moving as one, the two heroines crashed through the heavy, front door and into the terraced house beyond.

They had only a brief instant to notice the strange spotlights, which blocked the tight hallway before the corridor was filled with a brilliant flash of scintillating light.

* * *

Angellica blinked and the world seemed to leap between heartbeats. One moment she was standing, sword in hand, at the threshold to the villainess’ lair and the next she was somewhere else entirely.

Her blade had vanished and so, she realised belatedly, had her costume.

Looking down at herself, the young woman couldn’t control the growing embarrassment, despite using every calming technique in her arsenal. She had been dressed in the most revealing lingerie imaginable; panties, suspender belt and stockings. Her breasts were bared and, try as she might, Impetus couldn’t even lift her hands to cover herself.

She could feel a warm pressure on her wrist and, when she looked, the heroine was startled to see an eerily waif-like, green-costumed woman effortless holding both her and her mentor in place. Impetus recognised the Gadgeteer right away but found her attention more focussed on Arclight’s trim form and the deliciously slutty underwear the other heroine had been forced to wear.

Something seemed to tingle at the front of her brain, a soft buzz that made everything warm and squishy. Arclight… Amanda just looked so hot and even the villainess didn’t seem nearly as dangerous as they’d been led to believe.

The Gadgeteer squeezed Impetus’ wrist gently and there was another burst of light.

* * *

Everything jumped again, as if she had paused, while the world continued around her. Angellica found herself on all fours, hands roped tightly together and with her legs lashed to her mentor’s at the knees and ankles. Her mouth ached, stretched wide by a jaw-breaking ballgag.

The villainess knelt between them one hand resting possessively on the heroine’s raised backside and, instinctively, Angellica knew that Amanda’s ripe flesh was being similarly claimed. Both women whimpered softly, until the villainess’ softly sibilant voice cut through their complaints.

“Can you imagine, Stephibot?” the villainess marvelled. “The audacity of these trollops, just bursting into our home in their eagerness to bring us to justice.”

Impetus craned her neck, trying to see who the villainess was addressing. A nubile, silver-skinned and entirely naked woman was watching them impassively. But the heroine only had an instant to register her presence, before the Gadgeteer’s gloved hands began to smoothly massage her straining buttocks. That assured touch was electrifying and, despite herself, she couldn’t silence her answering groans.

“But they’re tasty enough,” the villainess continued. “And we’ll need the funds they’ll raise, if we’re ever going to rescue Joanne.”

With a whisper of tearing silk, Impetus found herself abruptly exposed. The villainess simply ripped away the flimsy protection of her panties and the heroine squirmed as the cool air lapped against her heated nether lips.

The Gadgeteer purred throatily, drawing back her captive’s attention.

Angellica’s eyes widened, first with the realisation that her friend’s sex has been similarly unveiled, but mostly at the sight of the double-ended dildo in the villainess’ hands. Energy crawled over the large, black sex toy, while circuitry flickered beneath the shivering latex skin.

Then, without any preamble, their captor thrust the pre-wetted device deeply into first one helpless cunt and then the other. Angellica gasped, unconsciously pushing back against the remorseless intruder. The villainess tangled her fingers in the heroine’s silken hair, pulling gently and forcing the dildo’s bulbous head to sink even more deeply into the throbbing depths of her already eager sex.

“One orgasm,” she breathed, tugging softly and encouraging more helpless moans from her captives. “And you’ll be licking and sucking whoever holds your leash…”

Two voices merged, raised in hideously muffled protest as they were slowly pulled onto the insidious, technological toy. Angellica could do nothing, it simply felt too good. What’s more, she could feel how Amanda’s slick lips pressed into her own and, simply knowing that she was making her mentor whine with desire, made it all the more irresistible.

She couldn’t help herself. Bondage had always excited her, but it was Amanda’s proximity that was destroying her. The young woman’s slowly swinging breasts slapped against her arms with every thrust. Angellica knew she shouldn’t, but the need was simply too great. Pleasure tightened her drooling pussy, a deep throb of arousal that caught hold of her innards and squeezed.

Her body tensed, freezing into shuddering immobility, while the dildo flared and its light burned away everything else. A moment later she was humping herself against the cruelly potent device’s melting heat, just another mindless, orgasming slut.

* * *

Stephanie stared, blank eyed. She loved to watch her Mistress at play and, much as she envied the now powerless heroines, their fate would be far different from her own. It was obvious that both women had feelings for each other… feelings they both had clearly buried and denied. Stephanie was sure they would enjoy their new life together, even if neither would have chosen abject servitude as a career path.

Arclight had been fighting so hard. But, at the moment her succulent friend succumbed, it was as though the proud heroine simply gave up. The gorgeous red-head mewled into her gag, and her struggles became more and more frenzied. Until, with a final, despondent cry, she lurched to an orgasmic halt and the dildo took her mind.

The beautiful gynoid gazed into her Mistress’ sparkling eyes and felt a shock of arousal flood her being. There was something about the act of enslavement that always made her so very horny.

Stephanie smiled darkly as the former heroines thrashed their remaining freedom away. One glance at Mistress’ expression told her that tonight she could expect some extra special attention.

* * *

Still stuck on her…

It was late, her shoes hurt and this was going to be just another in a long list of wild-goose chases. Sally stomped dejectedly into the dimly-lit alleyway and, for what must have been the thousandth time that week, tried to remember why she did this job.

The beam of her maglite was all but lost in the shadows, but she couldn’t afford to hang around. Her partner would already be going in through the front entrance and her job was to stop any miscreants from escaping through the back door. The WPC gripped her baton more tightly and moved into the darkness, peering for the emergency exit’s tell-tale glow.

She let logic soothe away some of her anxiety. The most likely explanation was that kids had been playing in the old warehouses. Either that or some vagrants had chosen the place to doss down in. But, the good people of the city had complained, and here she was stepping over the used needles and other detritus, when she should by rights be at Barney’s with the rest of her shift, enjoying a swift half and some suitably bawdy humour.

Sally reached the door in a half-dozen cautious steps and took hold of the handle. To her surprise, it was already unlocked and, without a second thought, the WPC slipped inside. When she first caught sight of it, the interior of the warehouse literally brought her up short.

Instead of the bare floors, ancient newspapers and discarded filing cabinets, the building looked more like some kind of high-tech lab or maybe even a hospital. Everything was bathed in an eerie light, but chrome gleamed and the air had a strange chemical tang.

Reaching for her radio, Sally took a step backward. This was far bigger than they had supposed and something in her belly was screaming at the policewoman to run. Max-Tac could deal with this and, if she hurried, she could still make last-orders.

Her foot squelched noisily as she backed up, and the floor seemed abruptly reluctant to release her. She nearly stumbled and, when Sally glanced down, she saw that her shoes were mired in a puddle of glistening emerald slime. Fighting down her revulsion the policewoman tried to work out whether she could discard her shoes and jump clear.

“Oh hell,” she groaned as the truth began to dawn.

Static greeted her attempt to radio for help and Sally glanced around desperately, despite her growing sense of despair.

“Heads up, copper!” bellowed a strident female voice.

Sally turned, twisting her torso in an attempt to see who had spoken. The gout of liquid caught her squarely in the chest, instantly drenching her uniform. She screamed, while the thick jet continued to play over her taut body. Sticky, green ooze dripped from her, coating her from head to toe.

The disgusting mess dribbled into Sally’s eyes but she could still see the woman who had shouted. Confusion swirled through the policewoman’s thoughts, almost overwhelming the horror. Her attacker was almost completely naked, and was directing the torrent of cloying slime with one hand. But Sally’s gaze was drawn inexorable back to the woman’s face, the glittering collar that decorated her slender throat and her brilliant emerald eyes.

* * *

The Adherer painted the startled policewoman with a little more glue and then, reluctantly, let the spray finally still. Master had told her to guard his other possessions and, much as she loved obeying, that was just boring.

This was much more like it.

Joanne stared at the glue-drenched woman and felt a sudden flash of heat. A memory fought to rise through the chemical haze, but died unformed. Still, the captive felt familiar, she reminded the villainess of… someone and she suddenly wanted to play very badly indeed.

“How’re you doing there?” she wondered softly, notice how her victim had already started to sway gently.

“What…” the policewoman slurred, “What’s happening? Who’re you?”

“Ah, sweetness,” Joanne giggled, “The question you need to ask yourself is… who are you?”

“Who am I?” she whimpered, the doubt all too obvious, “where am I?”

“Where you belong, slave,” the villainess explained, stroking one hand across the woman’s sticky flesh. “In Master’s lair.”

It was delicious to watch the drugged woman trying to rationalise this new information. Master’s drug had completely suffused the villainess’ body and all her secretions were now laced with that insidious toxin. At the concentrations the captive was experiencing, the drug was effectively dissolving her mind, leaving only a blank slate for them to reprogram in any manner they desired.

And right now, more than anything, what Joanne really wanted was…

The villainess felt the strange thought seeping into her mind and, although she didn’t understand, it still felt so utterly right, so certain, so true... the very idea burned into her sex and slid its meltingly sweet promise into the depths of her being.

Impossible though it was, what she really wanted, was Mistress…

* * *

Sugar and Spice

The Confectioner was troubled. A soft note of irritation buzzed somewhere in the back of his mind, distracting him from the pleasure within which he longed to lose himself. Spice knelt between his spayed knees, her cunning tongue wrapping his shaft in heat. He closed his eyes, taking a firm grip on the rechristened heroine’s hair and forcing his honey-sweet manhood more deeply into her throat.

Fighting not to choke, the woman who had once called herself Ampere sucked more fervently at the villain’s cock. She shifted slightly, struggling to catch her breath as with every thrust she engulfed and clung to him more urgently.

Sugar whined softly, curling her naked body around her slave-sister’s and setting the rock-candy chain ashiver. Geist’s reserve had been burned away during her reprogramming. The shy, self-conscious girl was gone, replaced by a rampant vixen who longed only for pleasure.

Both former heroines were chained to their Master’s throne, wearing nothing but clear sugar-syrup collars. There bodies glistened wetly, as though painted in a thin veneer of oil. Eye’s glowing softly, the pair viewed the Confectioner with verdant adoration.

But still the villain wasn’t content.

He had lost most of his connections after his transformation, but the theft of his recipes from the police’s museum was front page news. To have such treasures in the clumsy hands of the constabulary was bad enough, but for another villain to dare encroach on his territory... well that could simply not be borne.

He knew of the Anaesthetist by reputation and admitted to a certain, grudging respect for the sleep-obsessed villain. But, however skilled they might be, that respect didn’t extend to the Anaesthetist’s female minions.

Rumour had it that the Gadgeteer had split from her erstwhile Master and that made her an obvious target. The green-clad harlot was still using his recipes, an intolerable insult, one that could no longer be tolerated.

A smile shivered across the strangely-liquid surface of his face as he pictured the Gadgeteer joining the former heroines on her knees before him. He arched, lifting his buttocks from the throne and giving a low moan. Spice redoubled her efforts, responding instantly to her Master’s need and clearly revelling in having her mouth fucked so completely.

The villain stiffened, his hand tightening into rigid spasm and tried vainly to stifle a quiet sigh. His hips continued to twitch for a long moment and then he lost himself in the sensation, humping desperately against his slave’s face while she continued to milk his straining cock.

Spice swallowed convulsively, gulping down the syrupy seed as fast as she could. But still more spilled from the former heroine’s lips, dribbling freely over her exposed breasts and spattering the cool floor with gleaming droplets.

Sugar’s eyes were wide and pleading. The young woman’s nostrils flared, her stare fogged with the lust now permeating the room. With an indulgent smile, the villain gestured to his spilled semen and that was all the encouragement the former heroine needed.

As the sound of Sugar’s lapping tongue grew louder, the Confectioner leaned back and let himself bask in the post-orgasmic bliss. First he would take the Gadgeteer, adding her to his harem of supersluts and then he would reclaim his recipes from the usurper.

He nodded to himself, satisfied with the plan. The irritation was still there, but the Confectioner knew just how he was going to scratch it.

To be continued...