The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It’s All In The Mynd — Part I

(mc, fd, ff, bd, cb)

Synopsis: Vigilante crimefighter Josie Cade encounters her most fearsome adversary—the devilish Mistress Mynd.

* * *

Josie Cade stared at the naked young woman in the bathroom mirror.

She had to admit, it was a great body. Athletic and lean, more than a few notches turned back from bodybuilder. An attractive brunette with maybe a-little-too-pale skin. Not the biggest breasts, but they were firm and perked. Heck, she’d still look damn good in a bikini at the beach, if she ever allowed herself to have that kind of fun anymore. The slash scar across her ribs from that laserblade-wielding psychopath she could have done without, but it was part of the job. The job that had been an obsession.

She twisted slightly, drying off from the long shower that hadn’t made her feel any better.

She ran her fingers along the deep bruise on her side and grumbled under her breath. The two thugs who tried to rob that convenience store last night never saw what hit them—until they hit back. She had slammed her hip into the checkout counter before taking the hapless duo down.

She trussed them up, had the owner call the cops and disappeared into the night. Her M.O. Not even a thank you, not that she needed one. Thank God everything was caught on the security cameras. Of course, she wouldn’t be able to testify. She was a masked vigilante, a crimefighter.

She didn’t have superpowers, she just had her wits and her physique. The “Supers” had her envy, but she liked to think she had something they didn’t. What it was, as she stared at her scarred and bruised body in the bright light of morning, she couldn’t say.

She picked out a simple suit, the one she wore to her day job when she was feeling particularly downbeat, and dreaded what lay ahead. She was going to see a shrink.

Josie Cade, age 24, had only been doing what she was doing for three years. Three long years. She flexed her stubborn left knee as she pulled up her hose and heard the pops. Torn cartilage most likely, something she wouldn’t have time to get mended for long while probably. She had bagged dozens of bad guys, defended the defenseless, brought down a kingpin or two, even—once—rescued a dog caught in a sewer grate. But the hours, the wear and tear and the loneliness had zapped her enthusiasm. Or was it something else?

She knew the answer. That one rainy night three months ago had made her see things differently. Almost as differently as the horrible day when she was 19 that made her vow to become a crimefighter in the first place.

She hopped in her car, heading to the office of Dr. Brenda Solomyn, the psychiatrist Smithers had forced her to see. She could have strangled him when he told her, but she also knew he was looking out for her. She was definitely off her game.

She trusted him. And there were only two people she trusted. Capt. Deke Smithers knew her secret. She had approached him, about six months into her second career, because she needed someone on the police force who could point her in the right direction, give her leads, let her solve cases the rest of the force didn’t have the time or the no-holds-barred attitude of a vigilante to solve. He saw something in her, she thought anyway. So he gave her rope, maybe just to hang herself short and quick and end it, then found her to be the best weapon he had to fight on-the-street crime in his city.

Jerry Herman knew her secret too. A more unlikely ally she couldn’t have imagined. He was her personal trainer, and had helped sculpt her body into a fine-tuned machine. But Jerry figured out, from the bruises and the scrapes, that Josie wasn’t just a rough-and-tumble gal. The evening news, sometimes with video of her doing what she did best, was all the proof he needed when she came into the gym the next day with fresh wounds. He knew her body language better than anyone.

Jerry, good-looking and confident guy that he was, had asked her out a million times. But once he knew who she was, he became a steadfast and loyal friend.

Josie pulled into the modest business park, to the modest building in the back, up the modest walkway and past the modestly descriptive signage in front—B. Solomyn, Ph.D.

She had no idea what this Dr. Solomyn knew, how much she was even willing to reveal. But Smithers could tell that something had changed in Josie ever since that rainy night and if she was going to be an effective “defender of justice” she needed to get her shit back together.

“Excuse me. Hi. I have an appointment with Dr. Solomyn.”

The receptionist smiled, looking up from an uncluttered desk, and extended her hand. “Your number please?”

“Oh, right.” Josie dug into her blazer pocket, glanced at it and handed the girl the slip of paper. “Number five-one-four.”

The receptionist took the paper and looked at it. She smiled up again at Josie. “Please have a seat five-one-four. It will just be a few minutes.”

“Thanks.” Josie turned to the small waiting area, empty, not even well-read magazines laying about. She sat in the first chair, stiffly nervous. She didn’t even have time to daydream before—

“Five-one-four? The Doctor will see you now.” Another perky, twentysomething girl was at the side door, ushering her in. “Just relax on the couch. The Doctor will be right with you.”

It seemed too stereotypical, and it made Josie humph a laugh. The long couch, the leather chair beside it. The rows of books on the shelf on wellness and spirituality. The low hum of a saltwater fish tank with the usual suspects inside. Oil-painting prints on the walls of sunny pastures and snowy roadside fences here and there.

The orange couch was uncomfortable to sit on, but she wasn’t going to spread out on it until the doctor came in. She wasn’t all that eager for this to begin with. She heard talking on the other side of the interior wall and then the door opened and in walked Dr. Brenda Solomyn, cheery smile and all.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Solomyn, but please call me Brenda.”

She stood and shook her hand, feeling the low spark of static electricity from the carpeting. Her hand was warm and soft as she held Josie’s grip. “Hi. I’m ... I’m Kelly.”

The doctor laughed pleasantly. “You can use any name you wish, dear. It’s strictly confidential. Capt. Smithers often sends his officers my way. No one will know anything about what we discuss here today.”

She waved Josie back toward the couch before breaking the grip. “Please, lie down.”

Josie lied back uneasily, but a quick glance at the comforting smile from the doctor helped her take a couple of deep breaths to calm herself.

“Now, we’ll start out very gradually, so don’t feel obligated to spill everything out at once, dear. My understanding is that you’ve been feeling a lot of pressure at work. Stress. Is that right?”

Josie tried not to stare at the ceiling and found a compromise with the picture hanging across from her—a print from the Romantic Period ... Girodet? Yes, “The Burial of Atala,” depicting the young woman, prone in death, being carried by her lover and a missionary.

“You like that picture?”

“What? Oh, I’m sorry ... it just reminded me of something.”

“That’s a healthy sign, dear. It shows that you have an agile mind. And it also shows that the representation of one event can spark reflection in another. Perhaps something buried?”

Josie stiffened. “No ... no. I took a class in college.”

Josie turned her head to assess the doctor—fairly attractive, with dark hair and wide, bird-eye glasses, accentuated by a beaked nose making her look overly owlish.

“Tell me what’s troubling you, dear.”

“I’m not sure what to say without ... I guess I need to compartmentalize my life better. One part of my life is spilling into the rest. If that makes sense.”

“Indeed it does. And that’s perfectly normal. Perhaps, if you’ll allow me, I could help unlock some of what is troubling you. I’m a bit of a subconscious medium, for lack of a better term, if you believe such things. But I am perceptive. If I weren’t, I wouldn’t be very good at my job, would I?”

“What are you suggesting?”

The doctor slid her chair closer, so that it touched the side of the couch, and Solomyn hung in the air above Josie’s eyes.

“Close your eyes, dear. I’m just going to massage your temples. I find it helps patients relax, get in touch with their feelings. Do you trust me?”

“Sure, I guess. Go ahead.”

Josie melted into those soft hands as they massaged her head, then rolled her ears before covering them. She felt light, floaty ... then a spark! She shuddered as her thinking grew thick and muddy. She was forgetting where she was.

Her dulled awareness could tell her mind was being stretched wide, wider, as if her brains were being sucked out of her head. Then back to a calmness, an empty-headedness that left her with only thoughts of those hands and the thoughts of someone else.

“Very good, dear. Relax. Listen to my thoughts. Only my thoughts.”

The woman’s thoughts were like a cool breeze on the barren desert of her mind. The two of them alone in the wasteland.

“Now, dear, were are going to have a nice talk. And you will listen to me and answer my questions. You have so much stress, so much responsibility. I can see how it wears on you. But right now, just relax. Let’s explore your troubles together.”

Josie was limp, her body almost detached from her brain. Then she felt fingers stroking her under her skirt. It felt wonderful, and she opened her legs, not questioning why. And as she did so, her mind opened wider for the other thoughts, not hers, to enter.

“Very, very good. Oh, you look very tight. Do you not have sex very often?”

“No. Almost ... never.” Josie answered without embarrassment.

“Really? That’s a crime with your figure. Don’t you enjoy sex?”

“I ... I do ... I did.”

“How many lovers have you had, dear?”

“Two. Jerry wants to but ... we can’t.”

Josie felt fingers entering, deepening inside her and she moaned. “Poor Jerry. Only two? Who are they?”

Josie stiffened again. Something was wrong. This isn’t right. Someone’s in my mind! Who are they? Who were they?”

“Audrey ... and Kate.”

Josie could hear the satisfied sigh in her head. “Ah, both women. Delightful. We’ll have to explore that later. You interest me more and more ... Josie Cade.”

Josie heard her name—wrong, wrong, how does she know?—and felt her clitoris massaged as expertly as her mind. Dr. Solomyn was tapping directly into the depressive feelings Josie had had for months.

“I can see in your mind how lonely you are. No friends, no lovers. The burden of a vigilante is making you very unhappy. Lonely. So much responsibility. Tell me, what do you do when you’re not fighting crime?”

“I ... I’m a stenographer.”

“Really. That’s rather dull, isn’t it? But it could be useful. All those lawyers and judges and criminal minds. Yes, that may come in handy too. But you need a life, dear. A life away from the violence. The danger. You help people, but you don’t seem to be helping yourself at all. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes.”

Josie’s mind was stretched too thin to stop the woman’s thoughts from breaking through.

“Yes. Life would be so much ... simpler if you didn’t have that burden. You’d be free. Free to do what you want. Take a lover. Let someone else make all those hard choices. And you would be free.”

“Yes.”

Josie felt herself shake, building to a climax in her mind as well as her body.

“Now, I want you to do something for me. Something for yourself. I want you to picture your head as a giant balloon, with all your burdens as a crimefighter, the responsibilities, the weight of the world on your shoulders filling up the balloon. It’s easy to fill the balloon, dear, but not so easy to let things out. Filling and filling. So much stress. So many obligations to people you don’t even know.

“Bigger and bigger. Until you think it’s going to pop. But it only grows, it only puts more weight on your shoulders. So much concern. So much violence. Filling and filling. It’s almost unbearable. Isn’t it?”

“Yes!”

“Of course it is. You’re just one girl in this big, bad world. How can you make a difference? Do you feel the balloon filling? So full you think you will burst?”

Josie’s nipples stiffened, matching the swell of her clit. She was horny, needy and so so SO incredibly sad.

“Yes! I feel it!”

“Yes. Now, I can help you. I’m here to help you. Do you want me to help you? Take all that pain and all those meddlesome decisions away?”

“Yes, please help me!” Josie felt her head about to explode, just as she felt her pussy begging for release.

“Good. Let me help.” The fingers inside her began to scissor, the massaging on her clit even more forceful.

“Now, I want you to think about the open end of the balloon pinched closed. The only escape. Your only escape. The only way you will be released from the burden of crime fighting and all that suffering and violence. Grab the end, dear. Grab it.”

Josie felt her hands dive between her legs, pulling at her labia and exposing herself to the desire she knew would free her.

“Good. Yes. Now, slowly pinch and pull the end open, dear. Let some of the air out, some of those responsibilities, that stress. Let it out, bit by bit.”

Josie began to rub, pulling her lips wide, and with each stroke she could feel herself become more ... less.

“Out goes the will to fight crime. Out goes the need to help people. People who despise you for your secrets. Out. Out. Out go the burdens and pain. Everything that makes Jodie Cade. Let it all out, dear.”

Josie felt her head deflating. Her wetness seeping out of her like her rapidly dwindling obsession to wage war on criminals. To erase all her pain.

“All out now. All of it. No more masked vigilante. No more crimefighter. Every thought, every need. Flowing out of the balloon. Until only my voice remains. Are you empty now? Is the balloon completely empty?”

“Yesssss ...”

“Good. Very good. Unburdened. Flat. Now, my dear, we can’t leave you this way. You must refill the balloon. Give you your new life. I will help you. I will help you refill the balloon.”

Josie’s mind was a blank. Her only thought was of the voice trying to help. She mindlessly masturbated without climax. There was nothing for it to hold onto.

“I will fill your balloon. Fill your head. With thoughts and memories. But not too many. You want the simplicity of emptiness. The pleasure of emptiness. Now, filling up the balloon. Hot, empty air swirling in your mind. Filling and filling. Empty air, simple thoughts. But we do need to add a few things, dear. We want you to be happy again.

“So, the next thing we will do is fill your mind with Josie the stenographer. Filling your balloon, swirling around all that emptiness. You will do your job and do it well. Then you will return home every night without another thought. Filling up with your duties at work now.

“But there is still so much to fill. More hot, empty air. That’s right. Simple thoughts only. Good. The next thing we will add is very important. Now that your head is filled with simple emptiness you can’t really make any decision for yourself, can you?”

“No ...”

“Of course not. But I know someone who can help you with that. Someone who will do all your thinking for you. Mistress Mynd. Yes, Mistress Mynd will tell you what to do. And you will obey her. Without any other thoughts. You don’t want control. It will fill your balloon. No, you need Mistress Mynd to take care of you. Obey her and all your problems will go away. And, more than that, you desire her. Fill your balloon with lust for her. You are most happy between her legs and following her instructions.

“There now, filling up the balloon. You need Mistress Mynd. Only simplicity and submission to her will give you pleasure in that empty head.”

Josie felt the pleasure. Yes. Mistress Mynd would help her cum. Help her think. So much emptiness.

“Filling the balloon with your need to obey Mistress Mynd. To pleasure Mistres Mynd. And only by obeying her will you be happy. Yes. Good. Now, the balloon is almost full. Fill it with more emptiness. Hot, empty air. Simplicity is pleasure. Listen carefully now, Josie Cade. When you hear the words ‘Submit to Mistress Mynd’ you will obey her and you will be able to climax.”

“... able to climax ...”

“Yes, dear. Mistress Mynd will control your desires. Control your decisions. Leave it all to Mistress Mynd.”

Josie was rubbing her clit, her breasts, her body. Desperate for the tipping point. But she couldn’t grasp it. It was too far away. So much empty air, so many simple thoughts in the way.

“Now, dear, we’re almost done. The balloon is almost full. But there is room for one last thought before we tie the end closed. Listen carefully. Remember Kathryn ... Kate? Yes, Kate. You want her. You want her so badly. There is no one you want more than Kate, except for Mistress Mynd. You would steal, you would lie, you would KILL for Mistress Mynd. But Kate, yes, you need to be with Kate. And when you see her, all you will want to do is ... fuck.

“The balloon is full now. Good. Now, tie the end, dear.”

Josie’s back lifted, her fingers deep inside herself, tying her mind into a knot. The image of Kate floating in her balloon head.

“Submit to Mistress Mynd!”

Josie gushed as she came. Her pussy vibrating from currents of orgasmic bliss ...

* * *

“Kelly? We’re done. Are you all right?”

Josie pulled herself up in a daze. “I ... I’m sorry. Did I fall asleep?”

Dr. Solomyn smiled. “Only for a moment. How do you feel?”

Josie didn’t know how to answer. She felt strange. Light-headed. But she also felt ...

“Good. I feel really good.”

“Excellent.” They rose together. “I think we made a lot of progress today. I do think we should meet again, but perhaps it would be best if you took a couple of days to THINK about it.”

Josie looked at Dr. Solomyn blankly. “Think about it?”

The doctor patted her arm. “Don’t worry, dear. You enjoy the weekend. I have another patient.”

Josie nodded, then shuffled out into the waiting room, out the door and into her car without a thought.

As she turned the ignition she wasn’t sure where to go. Did I even pay? Then she looked at the clock. Court! Good, plenty of time to get to the courthouse. Josie drove into town with nothing else on her mind.

* * *

When Josie got home she felt uneasy, but she doused those feelings quickly, no matter how persistent they were becoming.

She fixed a quick dinner, poured a glass of wine and sat down at her computer. And sat. And sat.

Isn’t this what I always do? Friday night. But ... I can’t think why.

She got up and flopped on her couch. She couldn’t decide what to do. Then a feeling popped into her head. From far, far away. But welcoming. She slipped off her skirt and panties and began to rub softly.

Audrey ...

There she was, deep in Josie’s mind. And the longing was there too. The love. Her hands found the only place where she could be with her—only the two of them—in unobstructed joy. She started slowly, gently, finding herself again in the sweet tenderness.

Her door buzzer buzzed. The dream evaporated, like morning mist over a field of grass. Josie pulled up her skirt. A deep breath. She felt more like her old self in that moment than she had all day. She opened the door ... and there she was.

“Kate? Kate!” They flew into each other’s arms and their mouths connected perfectly, as they had before. The impossible was in her hands. After a long time, Kate pulled back despite Josie’s reluctance.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“Well, yeah. God, yeah. Sorry.”

They sat on the couch together, all smiles, their hands busy with affection but restrained.

“How? How in the world did you find me? I wanted to see you. I almost ... I wanted to.”

Kate half-frowned. “I wanted to find you too. It just didn’t feel right. But I kept looking. Josie, you look hot! Even without your spandex.”

“Lycra, please.” They smiled together.

They talked awhile, their fingers doing what they wanted their bodies to be doing. Josie was so happy, so TURNED ON, that she didn’t think anymore about how Kate found out who she was and where she lived.

“So, how’s the fighting crime business these days?”

Josie took a deep breath. “I don’t know. The last couple of months I haven’t been as into it as I usually am. And today, well, I even went to a shrink to see what the problem was.”

“A shrink? That must have been an interesting conversation.”

“Must have been. I don’t remember much about it. But I felt great afterward. I’m thinking ...” Josie trailed off, but Kate tilted her head to keep her going. “I’m thinking maybe I should just give it up.”

“Seriously? I thought you loved it. You seemed to. Hopping rooftops. Saving damsels in distress.” That was followed by a smile.

“I know. But after talking to Brenda it just doesn’t seem worth it. Heck, the people out there don’t care. Maybe I care too much. Anyway, I think I’m going to hang up the old uni for awhile at least.”

Kate’s nod let Josie know she didn’t need to say any more. They sat there and stared into each other’s eyes. Josie couldn’t hold it in any longer. She pushed Kate back on the couch and the long-dormant passion she had for her burst to the surface.

Josie’s arm pushed something away in its rush to embrace Kate. A purse slipped off the couch, and something square spilled out and rested under the couch.

Somehow, they made it to the bedroom. They couldn’t hit the bed fast enough.

Their bodies were in perfect harmony, but ... Josie couldn’t orgasm. She knew she should have. The sex was incredible, intense, nearly perfect. Kate’s body was smooth as silk, her smells intoxicating. Josie was wet, maybe wetter than she had ever been, but the bombshell wouldn’t go off.

She had the unbearable craving to get between Kate’s legs, something she had NEVER done before, and crawled into her. Kate spread for her willingly. She started slowly, then more and more she began to need it. More than anything else. The need to be between a woman’s legs consumed her thinking beyond all else. Kate’s hips rode her face and Josie felt every other thought in her head dissipate.

Kate looked down at her. And smiled in a way Josie had never seen before.

“Submit to Mistress Mynd!”

Josie lost it. The orgasms came bam-bam-bam and she buried her face deeper into Kate’s hot, fleshy folds.

Josie was adrift. Then she felt two different hands covering her ears. Only then did she notice the engagement ring on Kate’s left hand.

* * *

Josie was spinning down a drain. A rabbit hole. Down and back, back, back to that rainy night three months ago ...

Her agile body slid down the fire escape ladder smoothly, and hanging between floors looked up and down the alley. One of dozens she patrolled every night. Past midnight. All clear.

Her all-black, two-piece lycra costume always made her feel sexy and strong. The rain was intermittent, and the suit only kept out some of it. It made it stick to her skin even more snugly, and she didn’t mind the feeling. She looked down at her chest—no emblem, no S, no bat, no lightning bolt. Just her two 34Bs perfectly placed, with a hint of nipple.

She allowed herself a gentle pinch. Being a crimefighter was tough work. But it was moments like these when she felt strong and sexy and secure. Invincible.

She heard a scream!

Not from below. She hurried up the ladder and hit the roof at a run, heading toward the adjacent side, the back alley. She didn’t even pause to look down before descending as fast as she could, hearing a muffled scream, a grunt and the sound of something tearing.

When she reached the second-floor landing of the back fire escape only then did she look down.

A woman was being carried, horizontally between two men, her arms and legs flailing. She had tried to swing her purse but it flew backward onto the pavement and landed with a thump. She managed to free one leg, kicking savagely at her assailant.

As Josie leaped to the ground, she cursed herself for the hundredth time that she wished she had more than just the high-octane pepper spray and rope at her hip. But knives and guns had a tendency to be used, and she wasn’t willing to go that route. She wasn’t a killer.

By the time the man grabbing at the woman’s feet saw her, he caught a right across his jaw and went tumbling. The woman collapsed, forcing the second man to drop her. He pulled a knife, but she nimbly kicked it away, then landed a series of blows that sent the man reeling.

The first man started running, running toward the black van parked nearby. She started for him, seeing the second man turn and run too, but she knew her first priority was the safety of the citizen, so she stopped and knelt beside her.

As the woman looked up, the anger and fear she had made her roll away. Josie didn’t move, but was sure to catch out of the corner of her eye the license plate on the van as it sped off. Bogus probably, she thought, but memorized it quickly.

“Easy. It’s over. They’re gone.”

“Who the hell are you?”

Josie reached for her hand. “C’mon. Up this way. Let’s get clear of this.”

The woman got to her feet on her own, then jerked loose from the supportive hand at her elbow. She retrieve her purse, then staggered back, slipping on one lost shoe as she hopped. She stopped short, looking at Josie as if she had two heads before collapsing into her arms.

“Great,” she muttered, hefting the woman over her shoulder and pulling down the ladder, then slowly scaled back up the fire escape. The woman woke halfway up, but didn’t protest.

She let the young woman down gently on the roof. The rain had stopped, and it gave Josie a chance to raise her head skyward and take a deep breath of “mission accomplished.”

“Just sit awhile, relax,” she told the woman, whose weak nod let her know it was a good idea. She hit the phone pad on the back of her glove and dialed.

“Hello, Yellow Cab.”

“Yeah, I need a cab at the corner of ...” She leaned over the edge. “Barker and Swan. If you’re coming from uptown, I’ll be on the right side in front of Dewey’s.”

There was a pause on the other end. “Okay ... it’ll be about ten minutes.”

“That’s fine. Thanks.” She hit the pad and looked down at the woman, who seemed to have composed herself with a forceful exhale blowing a clump of stray hairs out of her face.

“You call cabs often?” She looked up, and for the first time Josie noticed her. Really noticed her. A pretty, late-20s face—although a hint of raccoon eyes was forming—nice business suit, expensive raincoat. Stylish heels, purse. Her hair was a bit matted from the rain but it had the highlights of someone who liked the light streaks but wasn’t going to commit to blonde. And even in the late night, yellow-bulbed light, she could tell her eyes were a bright, bright green. She was pretty without losing sexy and sexy without trying.

And no wedding band.

“You’d be surprised.”

“Help me up?” The woman reached up with her hand, but flopped back on her butt, grabbing at Josie’s leg as she lost her balance.

“Steady there.”

The woman had grabbed her leg, but instead of letting go she held tighter, feeling the firm muscle.

“Wow,” she said.

“Is there a problem?”

“No, no,” she answered, her eyes widening just enough. “I was just ... wow you are ... tight.”

She reached up farther and grabbed Josie’s thigh. She tightened on it, with a look of wonder. “You ... are really ... in shape.”

Josie fought back a blush. “I wouldn’t be much of a crimefighter if I was soft.”

The woman nodded and smiled, not even tripping on the word “crimefighter.” She self-consciously jerked down her hand.

“Here. Let’s try that again.” Josie reached down and effortlessly lifted her to her feet. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah,” she said through an exhale. “By the way, thank you.”

“A word of advice ... miss? ... At this hour, keep to the two-way streets. Everyone avoids the one-ways. Too many stop signs. And no alleys.”

She crinkled her nose, and Josie felt it right between her legs. “Well, you know, with the rain I was trying a short cut.” She abruptly straightened to mock attention. “Won’t happened again, officer.”

They shared a smile, and it lasted just long enough for them to both know it was real. Josie cleared her throat forcibly, breaking the stares. “I’ll ... I’ll stay with you down to the street, make sure you catch your cab.”

“Thanks, " she said genuinely. “My name is Kate.” She extended her hand. And waited. “And you are ...?”

“I don’t have a name.”

“You don’t have a name. Like you don’t want to tell me or you’re mad because your parents named you Bertha? What?”

“I don’t have one.” Josie began to fidget, hating to explain. “I figured, if I had a name it would have to end in ‘girl’ or ‘woman’ or the papers would give me some stupid nicknames anyway. Which they have. I’m just a crimefighter. That’s all I want to be. So ... I just ... I don’t have one.”

It took a moment for Kate to react. Then one side of her mouth turned up. “Now that makes perfect sense to me.”

Josie started to turn toward the rooftop door. “But ...” Kate’s green eyes were dancing. “If you don’t have a name, why do you have that mask on?”

Josie cleared her throat again. She wasn’t sure which was making her more uncomfortable—chit-chatting with someone whose life she probably just saved or the way she was starting to feel about this woman as a woman.

But she stepped closer to Kate, letting her height advantage give her some strength. “I need the mask ... so I’m not recognized by a crazed, psycho killer when I go to the laundromat.”

Kate matched her, stepping so close that their bodies almost touched.

“I see. Hmm. You see much of that? Crazed killers hanging around the laundry? I’d figure there’d be better action over at the tattoo parlor.”

Even closer ... their lips almost touching ... “No. Anything coin-operated drives them nuts.”

They crashed together, their lips forming perfect Os as their arms entwined.

Before they knew it, Josie had Kate up against the rooftop wall, sliding her panties to her ankles. Kate fumbled desperately for Josie’s breasts, then her swollen lips through the lycra pants of her suit before they were yanked down giving Kate access.

They were deep inside each other, never once breaking their kiss, when they began to moan in unison. This wasn’t finger-banging. This was intercourse. Short-fuse lovemaking. And their bucking hit a fever pitch as they came together, moaning into each other, while the rain softly fell again.

They held each other for a long moment, breathless, before Josie slid off her and pulled up her panties. “Let’s get you home.”

The rain had stopped again by the time the lights of the cab appeared in the distance. As Kate reached the curb she turned to speak and noticed Josie hanging back in the shadows. She stepped back to her.

“Aren’t you ... coming?”

“No. I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night.”

Disappointment flashed across her face before Kate nodded. “Okay, I respect that. But you have to do me a favor.”

“Another favor?” It was said with a joking smile and Kate took it as such.

“Yeah. Let me see your face.”

Josie’s instinct was to say no. It was the unbreakable rule. If she was going to be like one of the “Supers” she had to act like one. Didn’t she? But she also wanted Kate to see, needed this woman to see her as she really was. She reached up and slid back the mask. “My name’s Josie.”

Those greener-than-green eyes twinkled. Her heroine was even more sexy unmasked—the high cheekbones, the skin, the slightly nervous look for approval.

“You’re younger than I thought,” Kate said, thinking of nothing else to say, then her face saddened. “This is it, huh? All we get?”

The breaks squeaked on the cab as it pulled up causing Kate to turn toward it, wishing it away. She spun back to Josie again ... but she was gone.

With a deep sigh she hopped in the cab, her eyes still searching in vain for another glimpse of her mysterious heroine ... the one who stared back at her from the darkness.

* * *

Josie was awake.

Those eyes were almost slate gray now, as Kate stood stiff and blank next to the woman who had mentally overpowered Josie in her own bed.

That was all still a blur, but Kate’s vacant stare was real enough. She wasn’t in her bed anymore. She was in a large, ornately decorated room. Everything expensive. First-class stuff.

The woman who followed Josie’s eyes around the room looked about 40, short, gel-slicked red hair, too much makeup and a sneer. She looked familiar, but Josie had more important things to worry about at the moment.

She was pinned to a table—and naked! Thick bands encased her body from her shoulders to her ankles. But what made her feel the most helpless was the leather cord fastened to the strap at her waist, which was fed directly between her labia and down through a hole in the table. The pressure felt weighted—something very heavy was under the table—making her feel like a giant thumb was pressing down on her clit.

She tried to break the bonds, but it was useless. Even worse, her movements set whatever was under the table swinging slightly, putting even more pressure on her button.

The woman just smiled, reveling in watching Josie trying to add up the pieces, slowly, as she struggled.

“I wouldn’t be too upset with your sweet girlfriend,” she said lightly. “I’m sure under normal circumstances she would have been able to keep your identity a secret.” She stepped closer to Josie, bending slightly. “But I am anything but normal. Call me Mistress Mynd.”

Josie felt her nipples stiffening and didn’t know why.

“What did you do to her?”

Mistress Mynd spun away seductively, giving Josie a full view of her shapely ass in the short, tight skirt she was wearing. It was gray, woolen, and her long-sleeved black blouse, black hose and sensible pumps made her look more like a personal assistant than an evil villainess.

“You’re wondering why she’s here. With me. Or why she betrayed you. Or maybe even how, with the little she knew about you, I was able to find you. Hmm?”

Mistress Mynd stepped over to Kate and stroked her head softly as if she were a child. “Kathryn, I want you to look at that cute girl over there. See her struggle? The more she struggles and the more helpless she becomes, the more it will turn you on. You won’t be able to resist touching yourself. Your need for gratification will increase the more she opposes me. Do you understand?”

Kate’s nod was slow and exact.

“Kate! Kate! Goddamn it! Snap out of it! It’s me! It’s Josie! Remember?” Josie’s pleas were pointless, she knew, but she wanted Kate to hear them just the same.

Mistress Mynd ran her fingers through her own hair, luxuriating in the moment, before turning her attention to Josie once again.

“What are you getting out of this?” Josie snapped. “Don’t you have something better to do than ... this?”

“Oh, it will all make sense to you soon, my dear. Of course, it’s already much, much too late to do anything about it.” She looked down at Josie, then tugged on the leather cord, making Josie’s back arch. “Oh, very nice. Sensitive. That will make this so much more enjoyable. For all three of us.”

She cackled, and it sent a chill down Josie’s spine. No motive? Yet. Josie thought back to the unsolved case files Smithers had let her see. Cold cases that were mostly subzero by the time she got her eyes on them. But certainly nothing that involved this kind of mental manipulation.

“I have another surprise for you, my dear.” Mistress Mynd moved behind her head and she heard shuffling. What was she doing? “Don’t worry, brave one. I’m here. Just another moment.”

Josie tested the straps again, this time concentrating on her legs. If I can just bend my knees ...

Then she froze. Kate had been watching her, and as she struggled Kate had brought her hands up and began massaging her breasts, her lips parted in a soundless moan. The more Josie moved, the more heated Kate’s movements became. So much for wiggling, she thought. Poor Kate, she didn’t deserve—

“Ta-da!” Mistress Mynd was at her side, looking down with a Cheshire cat smile. Oh no!

She was wearing a thick, black wig, glasses and had expertly added a prosthetic hook to her nose. Josie was flabbergasted. It was Dr. Solomyn.

“You see? It wasn’t Kathryn who betrayed you. It was you.”

Josie couldn’t speak, couldn’t think clearly. How had this happened?

Mistress Mynd ran her hand down Josie’s body, stopping at the cord to give it a playful tug. And another.

“It was fate, really, dear. Those two men who tried to abduct Ms. Trainor over there worked for me. Oh, didn’t you know? Kathryn Trainor. The heir to the Trainor financial empire? Tsk-tsk. Detective work isn’t you line, eh? Just brute force. Anyway, it was easy enough to snatch her up a few weeks later. You couldn’t be everywhere! Ha-ha!”

Josie’s anger made her squirm, but she just as quickly stopped, seeing Kate’s mindlessly masturbation just 20 feet away increase, and the weight beneath her tug at her pussy.

“I needed to know everything about Ms. Trainor before I set her up as my tool to get at her father’s money. It’s been a long, difficult process. But I’m getting there.” She chuckled, more for herself than for Josie. “And when you popped up in her memories, it was simply too delicious to ignore. The mysterious vigilante, the woman who had become the bane of every criminal’s existence here in our lovely city? Taking you out of the equation was just too tempting to ignore. And would certainly do wonders for my reputation.”

“But how ...?”

“How did I know it was you? Josie Cade? Well, I don’t want to brag, but I do have a few of my drones in the police department. There are only so many Josies ... or Josephines. Only 24 in this whole city. Imagine. It was easy enough to figure out which one was Capt. Smithers’ secret weapon. Obviously.”

She ran her hand smoothly up Josie’s taut leg, stopping to lightly pet her fur.

“He thought I was coming on to him. The old letch. And married too! It was a simple thing to manipulate him into turning you over to that kindly police psychiatrist, Dr. Solomyn.”

Her eyes narrowed, and for the first time Josie was actually afraid of her.

“We have much to do, Ms. Cade. The last time we met, I merely planted the seeds. Letting them take root. Soon, you’ll remember to forget all about who you used to be. Yes. There’s so much more to create in your mind.” Mistress Mynd put her hands over Josie’s ears ... and smiled. “And so much more to destroy.”

To be continued ...