The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

LAST TIME:

The screen showed Baroness Blackleather sitting in a folding director’s chair. “Hello, Vindiatrix, Shield Lass!” she began in a too-friendly tone. “Judging from what I saw last time we met, the sexual tension between you two must be close to boiling over!”

Vindiatrix ground her teeth.

“If you’d like me to help you resolve it once and for all, meet me at the VaVaVidd Studio at ten o’clock. It’s the perfect place to release those bottled-up cravings.”

Vindiatrix’s fists pressed into the wristmat in front of the keyboard.

The Baroness smirked and blew a kiss at her—at the camera, she reminded herself. “Ta-ta!” The picture faded to black.

“Bitch!” Vindiatrix growled. Glancing at the clock, she declared, “Two hours.”

“You’re not actually going after her? It’s obviously a trap!”

“And we both know that a trap can work both ways. She’ll be there in person, assuming she’s going to humiliate us again. We’re not walking into her trap—we’re turning it around on her!”

It was true enough that they’d caught quite a few villains using that very stratagem. Even so, Shield Lass had a bad feeling about it this time. Her instincts told her that there was little chance of outmaneuvering the Baroness this time... and no chance at all of dissuading her partner from trying.

Has Vindiatrix already become a puppet dancing on the Baroness’ strings?

What new bondage does the Baroness have in store for our heroines?

Stay tuned....

The VaVaVidd Studio was a refitted small warehouse in a seedy neighborhood on the edge of Rumbletown. The front door led to a small foyer flanked by offices, with one main corridor leading back to the main stage.

Vindiatrix and Shield Lass were not planning to come in through the front door. The building plans showed a roof access hatch near a rear corner of the building, leading into what was now a utility room behind the main storeroom. That was their target.

The heroines moved across the roof, scanning the interior for power sources and warm bodies. There were a dozen people in the hallways around the front foyer and the rear delivery entrance, but none in the rooms directly below. If all went according to plan, they would be well situated to catch the Baroness’ minions off guard.

“So far, so good,” Vindiatrix whispered.

“I still think this is a bad idea. She chose the time and place; she probably has an ace in the hole,” Shield Lass replied.

“That’ll make her easier to beat when she finds out we trumped her ace in the hole. Come on!” She moved toward the access hatch, looking back at her partner as if daring her to run away.

The younger heroine swallowed her misgivings and followed. If her worries were justified, her partner would need someone watching her back more than ever.

The heroines approached the entrance and carefully inspected it for traps and alarms. They didn’t find any. The hatch looked like it had never been opened; the records indicated that it had been added to the building in response to a code-compliance citation. The rusty old lock was easily picked; though the door still refused to budge until they cut through the layers of paint and crud around the edges.

The heroines peered down through the hatch. Below was a messy room containing a water heater, a sink, a washer and dryer, and some miscellaneous clutter. The main electrical panel was on the outer wall; a scan showed low-level power usage.

Quickly and quietly, Vindiatrix lowered herself to the floor, then stepped aside to give her partner room. Shield Lass slid down after her. A search of the room turned up nothing out of the ordinary.

The heroines carefully examined the door. Shield Lass was the first to spot the miniature switch hidden in one of the hinges. A bit of delicate work disabled it. After another round of inspection found no further alarms or traps, Vindiatrix slowly opened the door and looked out into the storeroom.

Their infrared lenses showed bright lines across the floor—alarm sensor beams. It was a loose grid; with a little care it would be easy to avoid. They moved out into the storeroom.

The walls were lined with steel shelves covered by tarps. Carefully, they lifted the coverings and shone their lights underneath them. Some of it was ordinary office supplies: paper, coffee, toner cartridges, and such. Other items were recording studio gear: cameras, microphones, portable hard drives, and other assorted electronics.

Along one wall was a king-size bed, with several headboards and an assortment of sheets and blankets. The shelves near it held the studio’s pornographic props: leather cuffs and harnesses, paddles, whips, sex toys... Vindiatrix uncovered a box containing an double-headed dildo, and felt the Baroness grabbing her breast and thrusting into her ass as if it were happening all over again. She roughly yanked the tarp back down over the shelf, and promised herself that the villainess would pay.

“Over here!” Shield Lass whispered.

Vindiatrix made her way past the laser grid and stood beside her partner. She grinned as she got a close look at the object Shield Lass had found inside a glass display case—the prototype magnetronic separator that had been stolen a week ago. A quick scan of the embedded RFID chips confirmed it.

This was an unexpected bonus. The Baroness had often had her crimes thwarted, but never conclusively pinned on her. Catching her red-handed in illicit possession of valuable classified technology would put an end to that.

Suddenly, the ceiling lights came on.

Vindiatrix turned, and nearly stumbled. Her feet had refused to move for a moment, throwing her off balance. By the time she recovered, both feet were firmly stuck in the white goo that coated the floor beneath them.

The next thing she knew, more of the sticky substance was raining down upon them from a sprinkler head. Something hit her in the side, and cords wrapped around her body.

“Use your glove blades!” she called to her partner as she triggered her own.

“They’re not working!” Shield Lass replied. The adhesive spray had apparently fouled the mechanism. Worse, the cords were glued to the gloves—it would be impossible to move the blades back and forth across them even if she got the release unjammed.

Vindiatrix muttered curses under her breath. Baroness Blackleather had expected them to come in this way, and set an additional layer of traps beyond the ones they’d beaten. The magnetronic separator had been set as bait, to draw them into position.

The door opened, and in strode the Baroness. “Vindiatrix! Shield Lass! I’m so glad you decided to take me up on my offer!” she called cheerfully.

“To hell with you and your ‘offer’!” Vindiatrix snapped.

“If you weren’t interested, you shouldn’t have come,” the villainess shrugged.

The heroines didn’t bother responding to that. They continued to struggle, attempting to at least free one hand and reach their belts. It was no use; even if they could have broken the cords wrapped around them, their hands were firmly glued in place against their bodies.

A pair of Leathergals entered. They picked up the tarp from one of the shelving units, then carried it toward the heroines and laid it down over the sticky area of the floor like a carpet. The Baroness picked up a couple of black cloth sacks and a vial of liquid from the newly exposed shelf. She stepped across the tarp and stood before her captives. “Like a spider walking up to the fly,” Vindiatrix thought grimly.

“Now that you’re here, I simply can’t let you back out!” the Baroness declared. “Not after all the trouble we went through to arrange everything.”

She then held up one of the sacks and squirted some of the fluid into it. “We have a few more preparations to finish, so both of you have time for a nap.”

Vindiatrix leaned backwards as far as she could. It wasn’t very far; she was pinned between the Baroness and the display case. She did her best to dodge, taking deep breaths while she still could. After two false starts, the Baroness got the sack in position and pulled it down over her face. She held her breath, but an oddly pleasant odor began invading her nostrils anyway.

She quickly felt herself getting dizzy. The fumes must be seeping in despite her efforts to avoid inhaling. It was only a matter of time—she’d either take a breath and pass out, or pass out and take a breath. She made one last desperate attempt to free herself....

Firm hands grabbed her breasts and squeezed hard. Vindiatrix gasped, and took in a full dose of the knockout drug.

She was lying down on something that wasn’t quite flat. It felt like some kind of reclining chair, except that the seat was much too small. Her butt was halfway off the front edge; her legs were being held up at odd angles.

Where was she? The last thing she remembered was approaching the VaVaVid Studio building where the Baroness had set up her latest operation. She’d sent them a taunting “invitation”... the details were fuzzy... the message had given the villainess’ location and dared them to go after her....

There was an odd smell... or maybe just a flashback of an odd smell. Suddenly that made sense. She’d been drugged with something that had knocked her out and messed up her short-term memory.

Vindiatrix opened her eyes and blinked. About few feet in front of her was Shield Lass, lying on a reclining frame. She was still masked, but the rest of her costume was gone, replaced by a thick leather collar, a tight low-cut corset, and thigh-high lace-up boots. The new outfit followed the green and bronze pattern of her costume, with a curvy female silhouette on her breast in place of her coat-of-arms insignia.

She was naked from midriff to mid-thigh... just like the last time the Baroness had captured them.

Trying not to think about that, Vindiatrix turned her attention to the bonds holding Shield Lass in place. Four cords on each side tied the corset to the frame beneath her; a pair of heavy clips connected the collar to the built-in headrest. Cuffs fastened to the sides of the platform held her wrists, and each boot had a half dozen built-in loops connected to a jointed metal support rod. The rods held her legs splayed outward, presenting her crotch front and center.

Vindiatrix couldn’t raise her head to get a good look at herself, but what she could see confirmed what she could tell by feel. She was dressed and bound just like her partner, differing only in that her outfit echoed her midnight blue and grey color scheme.

This would be a challenge to escape from even if she had all her tools; without them, it would be... harder. She began exploring, testing bonds to see exactly how much freedom of movement she had. It wasn’t much; she could maneuver an inch or so in any direction or pull herself about twice that far by exerting her full strength.

She felt three circular indentations in each side of the undercarriage, positioned to admit her fingers. Cautiously, she probed them one by one with her fingertips. They had a slight give at the bottom, suggesting recessed buttons. Maybe they were triggers to tell their captor that she was awake. She moved her hands clear of them as best she could, wondering if it was already too late.

As she struggled, she looked and listened for any sign of her captor. Bright ceiling lights shone down on the two heroines, leaving the rest of the room obscured in darkness. She tried blink-activating her mask’s IR vision. It didn’t work; either it had been disabled or her mask had been replaced with a duplicate. Was the Baroness trying to learn their secret identity? That was one of those things villains generally didn’t do in order to keep matters from escalating out of control... but then again, so was turning captured heroines into sex toys.

She couldn’t see, so she listened harder. There was no sound but a few soft creaks as she tugged at her bonds. If they were lucky—if she hadn’t triggered an alarm just now and if their captors weren’t watching closely—they might have time to work their way loose. She desperately clung to that thought.

She turned her attention back to her partner. “Wake up!” she hissed, torn between the need to get her partner’s attention and the risk that she might get someone else’s.

“Yes, wake up.” Their captor strode into the light and gave Shield Lass a slap on the thigh. She started awake, and went wide-eyed as she took in the situation.

“Baroness Blackleather,” Vindiatrix growled. “You won’t get away with this!” Her hands curled into fists as she tried to yank them free.

“Get away with what?” the villainess asked in a mock-puzzled tone. “I explained this to you earlier. I made you an offer. You came here to take me up on it. There’s nothing to ‘get away with’.”

“We came here to put you behind bars!” Shield Lass interjected.

“Well, then, you’re the ones acting in bad faith, not me,” the Baroness declared. “Not that it matters. The bargain is sealed, and I intend to fulfill my end. Tonight, I will cure you of your neurotic sexual hangups, leaving you free to express and enjoy the lesbian longings you’re both repressing.”

“Like hell!” Vindiatrix snapped.

“Don’t bother denying it, ladies. Last time, we didn’t get you under the Remodulators long enough to imprint you... but we did get clear readings of your existing desires.”

“We destroyed those things!” Shield Lass objected.

“Three words: realtime offsite backups. The evidence is in, and quite unmistakable.” She looked Shield Lass in the eye. “You are attracted to women. In particular, you are attracted to your partner.” She then turned to Vindiatrix, “And, if you’d just admit it to yourself, you’re flattered... even a bit curious.”

Vindiatrix scowled at her, not deigning to reply. At least, that’s what she told herself. How could she argue about her own thoughts to someone who’d seen them, perhaps more clearly than she herself had?

“You just need to forget about hangups and repression and propriety and mentoring and age differences—”

“I’m underage!” Shield Lass blurted out. It was worth a try; villains sometimes turned out to have unexpected scruples.

“No, you’re not,” the villainess scoffed. “I checked. Your mentor here would never let you go on field missions before you turned eighteen. She even made you file the special paperwork you costumed do-gooders use to document proof of age without revealing a secret identity.”

While her captor’s attention was focused on her partner, Vindiatrix maneuvered her arm and shoulder for maximum leverage, then yanked on her right wrist cuff with all her might. It didn’t budge.

The Baroness turned and bent down to take a close look at the manacle. Was there some hint of weakness visible from her vantage point? Vindiatrix threw her full strength into another attempt. If she could get her arm free while her captor’s jaw was in position to catch the follow-through....

“You might as well save your strength, darling. You’ll have better things to do with it tonight.”

“You mean, after you’ve subjected us to your new and improved Remodulators?”

“Why, thank you!” the villainess replied with sugary insincerity. “The units built into your headrests are more powerful than the helmets, of course, because I didn’t have be concern myself so much with size and weight limits.”

Vindiatrix had started the Baroness onto another monologue and bought a little more time. She tensed her left leg as she attempted, without success, to loosen its bonds. Meanwhile, Shield Lass put everything she had into an effort to weaken her corset cords, with equally nonexistent results.

“The real advantage of the new design is the improved integration of the Remodulator imprint signal into the subject’s orgasmic response, producing an effect indistinguishable from a spontaneous epiphany.”

“What?” Shield Lass asked.

“The big words mean that the imprinting will come over you like a ‘Eureka!’ moment. The suggestions will appear in your minds as obvious and undeniable truths, and feel like you thought of them all by yourself.”

She looked thoughtful. “Perhaps it’s just as well that you got away last time. You might have been able to throw off the effect of the old Remodulators, eventually. With this version, you won’t even try.”

“Why should we believe that?” Vindiatrix asked, partly to keep their captor talking and partly to put up a brave front. If these devices worked the way the Baroness said they did, they would turn the heroines into thralls who would never want to resist. She had to escape, had to put a stop to this....

“Don’t take my word for it. You’ll experience it for yourselves soon enough... and that will be the end of the Sexually Dysfunctional Duo of Vanilla-Straightness and her frustrated sidekick She-Needs-Ass.”

The Baroness turned away. Vindiatrix thought fast to find some way to start her on another round of gloating. “So it just doesn’t matter how we think right now. The Remodulators will change it to whatever you want. So that nonsense about ‘sexual tension’ between me and Shield Lass was just a taunt to lure us into a trap.”

“It’s not ‘nonsense’. It’s a fact. As for luring you into a trap, it was your choice to come here.”

Did she actually believe her own rationalizations, or was she simply taunting her captives? Vindiatrix put the question aside. It didn’t matter.

“Why are you doing this to us?” Shield Lass cried. She hated the pleading-for-mercy overtone to her voice, but it was the best thing she could come up with on the spur of the moment. Like her mentor, she realized that all she could do at the moment was to keep her captor talking.

“Why are you trying to get us attached to each other? I thought you wanted us for yourself.” Vindiatrix added. The more different cross-purpose threads they could add to the conversation, the more delay they might generate.

“Resolving the sexual tension between you and your partner is my end of the bargain, remember? I always keep my word once I give it.”

That was true enough. The Baroness kept to the letter of her promises... and ruthlessly exploited any loopholes.

“I’m going to remove all your mental blocks about propriety and mentoring and age differences....” She put a hand on Vindiatrix’s knee. “...and jealousy and exclusivity and privacy.”

“So this is just another attempt to add us to your Leathergal harem.” Vindiatrix had expected as much from the moment she’d realized that the Baroness intended to use her Remodulator devices on them again. “You tried to do that before. You failed. You’ll fail again. You’re not going to turn us into your private sexpots!”

The villainess chuckled. “Oh, I have no intention of turning you into private sexpots!”

Baroness Blackleather waved toward the darkness. The lights shining down on them dimmed a bit, and the rest of the room lit up. They were surrounded by cameras and microphones—tripod-mounted floor units, small handhelds, remote-operated ones on ceiling booms—all pointed at them.

On the walls were large monitor screens. They lit up to show identical images of the two heroines in skimpy parodies of their costumes, closely resembling the revealing outfits they were currently wearing. They struck pseudo-heroic poses that simultaneously showed off their bosoms and backsides. The figures were labeled with hot pink cursive titles: Tribby Greatrix and Scissor Lass. A line of block lettering along the bottom carried the warning “XXX—ADULTS ONLY—XXX”.

“I’m going to turn you into public sexpots, baring it all and putting on a show for anybody with a credit card and an Internet connection!” The Baroness leered at the wide-eyed captives. “Get ready for your closeups, girls!”

Are our heroines about to trade their respectable reputations for salacious sleaze?

Will Vindiatrix and Shield Lass soon be known to the world as “Tribby Greatrix” and “Scissor Lass”?

Tune in for “Bondage Burlesque”... same SMUT-time, same SMUT-channel....