The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Deja vu.

I came to, once again, lying on the cold hard floor. Very cold floor. I was in a... freezer? Shit. I tried to sit up, then groaned, feeling way too weak in the knees. Weren’t you supposed to build up a tolerance to this kind of thing after all? Then again... I really didn’t want to get tasered to the point of building up a tolerance. Standing up again, I saw that the hood’s crack about ‘cold storage’ was both figurative and literal. He’d stuffed me into an old abandoned meat locker.

Oh well. Could be worse. At least the freezer isn’t running.

Right on cue. I could just smack myself in the forehead for daring to even think such a thing. With a spark and a shudder, the old, rusty fans began to turn, blowing in the freon frosted air. I shuddered, pulling my leather jacket tighter around myself as the temperature dropped ten degrees in as many seconds. I wasn’t going to be able to stay here for long. Moving to the door, I glanced through the small window, wiping away a few years worth of dirt and grime.

The nearby area seemed dark and deserted. I wasn’t sure if I was even in the same building—I’d really only gotten a brief glance before running into that ambush. Despite the inherent gloom and lack of lighting in this section of the building, I could see quite well. Heh. Score one for being a weirdo freak. Guess this overly light sensitive eyes of mine are good for something after all. Shuddering as the temperature dropped another five or ten degrees, I decided it was time to make use of a different part of my anatomy. Pushing lightly on the heavy doors, I found that it was locked, from the outside. Checking again to make sure the coast was clear, I gave the handle a hard turn... snapping it off in my hand.

Heh. Not QUITE what I had in mind, but, well, the door probably wasn’t going to survive my escape anyway. Planting both palms against the middle of the door, I gave one big shove, and the door crumpled outward, tearing free of its hinges. I winced slightly at the sound of shearing metal, but as luck would have it—good luck, for a change—the padlock groaned but held strong, preventing the door from hitting the ground with a loud crash. Stepping out into the blessed warmth, I pushed the warped and twisted door back in place, and let out a sigh of relief.

I was of two minds on how to proceed. On the one hand, I had gotten trounced, badly, twice, by the same guy. If I’d been pissed off before, I was even moreso after escaping cold storage. Still, on the other hand, I was obviously out of my depth here. I hadn’t trained for this kind of thing. Hell, I’d fought tooth and nail NOT to learn about this kind of thing. I’d dragged Techna into the middle of this mess, and now she and the Sanchez family were held hostage to... whatever evil plot Mr. Sunglasses was privy to. If I made the wrong choice, the wrong decision, they could end up hurt, or even dead.

Well... overconfidence was never one of my vices.

Taking out my cell, I dialed mom’s number. Screw my bruised pride. All well and good when I was the only taking the lumps, but I couldn’t take any more chances with other people’s lives at stake. “Hello? Mom? It’s Jimmy... listen, I’m in a bit of a fix... mom? Mom? Can you hear me?” I glanced down at the cell phone and cursed loudly. The damn thing must have been open in my pocket all this time—the battery life was down to half a bar. Hanging up, I typed a quick text message, and pushed SEND, hoping that it went through before the battery died completely. The problem remained, however. I wouldn’t know if my message was received until Omega Girl showed up... IF she showed up. In the meantime, Megan and the others were in danger.

Ah, yes. Nothing quite like the feeling of having not having a damn choice. Oh well, at least I will have a chance to see just how useful these powers of mine can be.

With an effort, I tapped into that darkness inside me, extending my shadow tendrils, wrapping myself in their midst, cloaking myself in darkness. There’s no real real way to describe it... saying that darkness oozed out of me doesn’t quite cover it. One of Auntie Sarah’s old friends was a girl called Silhouette, who could use and manipulate shadows. For a while I was a bit obsessed with her, looking up any information on her in the database, but not a lot was known. It was kind of like she’d, I dunno, just fallen off the radar some time back. My darkness was probably similar like hers, except I couldn’t teleport through it. And, hers was apparently some kind of magical manifestation, while mine was... well... some kind of quasi-extradimensional anti-energy source of unknown light and energy devouring properties.

Huh... okay, so it was really NOTHING like hers at all. Still, it would be nice to meet her one day and compare notes.

I wonder what would happen if I ever mixed my shadows with hers...

Grr. Stop going off on mental tangents, Jimmy! Need to focus, here. Concentrate. Okay... Megan’s scanner said there were only five people in the building. Two men, three women. Two of the women were the Sanchez’, the third was presumably the Kat, the mastermind behind all of this. I took out one of the men, giving him a slight concussion in the process, so depending on how long I was out, he might still be down. That leaves... huh. That annoying guy with the suit, sunglasses and stun gun. That is... assuming there aren’t a bunch of other guys on reserve, called in after the fact in case anyone else happened to wander in.

And Techna. Hmm. Guess I should try and find her first. If I can free her, I can have her take Miss Sanchez and her daughter to safety, so Shades won’t be able to use them against me next time we meet. Okay... I had a plan. Now, all I needed to do was find them.

“Stealth mode, take two,” I whispered softly, as I made my way slowly through the building. I didn’t have Techna’s ‘invisible cloak’, but I think I did rather well in keeping to the shadows. Or, well... keeping the shadows to me, actually. Either way, I found myself outside the doorway to the west side of the building, safely clad in darkness, when who should walk by but the hapless gunman that I’d knocked out earlier, holding a small bag of ice against his head with one hand, an Uzi with a shoulder strap in the other.

“Damn... its fucking dark out here,” he muttered, walking within three inches of my location. “Looks like another light blew out. Fuck. Least they could do is to put us up in a halfway decent place for this meeting.” Dropping his grip on the gun, he dug into his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. “Maybe after the head honcho signs off on the project, he’ll put us up in a nice fancy hotel or something...”

“Or at least a nice private room at the hospital,” I muttered, letting the shadows draw back into me. The gunman let out a gasp of surprise, taking a step back. Not far enough, though, as I laid another light tap in the center of his forehead. His eyes crossed, then slammed shut as he crumpled to the ground. Glancing around to make sure no one had noticed, I dragged the unconscious crook off to a dark corner.

Alright. One down. Two more to go... I hope.

I want to be obedient. I want to be submissive. I want to be controlled, and led, and told what to do. Told what to be. I want to be a slave. I want to surrender. I want to be obedient...

Megan sighed softly, feeling the ripples of pleasure work their way through her as the mantra repeated again and again in her mind. The colors flashing on the computer display before her had captured her gaze almost immediately, even though she’d known what would happen. She’d tried to resist, tried to shut her eyes... but the allure was just too much for her to resist. Resistance was hard. Surrender was much easier.

Besides... it wasn’t the first time she’d felt this way. So... deliciously empty. Someone... someone, his name, she couldn’t remember right now... but someone had brought her to this place before. And she’d LOVED it. She definitely remembered that much. But... he didn’t take her there very much. She remembered now... she LONGED to be this way, longed to be empty... obedient... submissive... but HE hadn’t wanted her that way.

It was a conundrum, a paradox. In order to be a good girl, she had to be obedient. Submissive. But when she WAS, he ordered her to act normal, to her herself. A clear conflict of interests to be sure.

At least it had been. Now, she was truly free to surrender completely. The colors dazzling her vision and bombarding her thoughts made sure of that. Within a few seconds, she’d forgotten why she had ever wanted to resist this feeling. A few seconds more, and she had just enough will left to WILL herself to surrender fully. Now, she was unable to do anything but sit back and enjoy the ride.

“How’s she doing?” the man in the expensive Italian suit asked, gesturing towards Megan. “Is she completely under yet?”

Katherine Hogan smiled evilly, glancing over her shoulder. “Oh, yes. She was ‘under’ about thirty seconds into the program. My computer scans of her synaptic response suggests that she took to the programming even faster than the other two subjects. It’s quite fascinating. Like the others, activity in her frontal lobe area dropped more than seventy-three percent, while activity in the occipital and parietal lobes have increased threefold. Further, I’m seeing some direct correlation in spikes of activity in her pons region, whenever her hippocampus is accessed—”

The man sighed deeply. “A simple ‘yeah’ would have sufficed. You didn’t have to ‘geek-out’ on me. Shit.” He walked over in front of the entranced girl, waving a hand in front of her face. No response. He shook his head. “So, tell me... in ten words or less,” he added before his associate could begin, “why doesn’t your little brainwashing program work on men?”

“Oh, it does work,” she said with a smirk. “It can entrap pretty much any mind that watches the display, just not as strongly. My guess would be that the specific color patterns and intensities were programmed used a female mind as a model to base it on. There are some subtle but important differences between a man and a woman’s brain chemistry... different hormones, at different levels... so the color streams hits the male brain, just not as strongly. He could conceivably fight off the effects much better, and it wouldn’t have as lasting an impression.”

“Thank you doctor,” he replied sarcastically, “I think that was about a hundred and ten words, but at least I got the gist of it. So... this little program of yours, it COULD be adjusted to affect everyone, not just broads?”

“Er, yes,” Kat said, sighing inwardly. “I just said that. It would take a bit more study and research to perfect it, but most of the hard part was already done by the creator of the original program. I’m just lucky that my sister was able to transmit a copy of it to me to work on.” She hit a quick series of keystrokes on her terminal, then sighed. “At any rate, it seems to work well enough to contact Mr. MacDonald for the tele-conference. Mr. Heitmann, if you would please bring in the other two women, I’ll contact California.”

“Alright,” he said, walking out of the room. “And for the last time, it’s just ‘Hitman’, alright? It sounds classier.” Taking a small silver coin from his pocket, he idly flipped it into the air, catching it and flipping it again.

I had to nearly bite my lip to keep from grunting under my breath as that wanna-be greaseball slithered by me. ‘Hitman’, huh? Not exactly what I’d call an imaginative moniker, considering his line of work. At least I had something to call him besides ‘sunglass-wearing-guy-that-I-wanna-kill’.

From my dark corner of the room, I could see Techna, completely blitzed, her glazed half-lidded eyes glued to the monitor in front of her. Across the room, the Kat sat in front of her own computer workstation fitted with several monitors and view screens. She seemed to be setting up some kind of satellite cell unit next to her mainframe, no doubt to connect to this ‘conference call’ she’d mentioned earlier. I was very tempted to charge in now, take out the Kat, and rescue Techna before they finished completely labotomizing her, and I probably would have... except having heard a little bit about what was going on, I needed to find out more. She’d mentioned a name: MacDonald. I’d assumed that Katherine Hogan was calling the shots in this little kidnaping plot, and that Hitman was her hired help... but if they were BOTH just stooges working for someone else...

This whole thing was a lot more complicated than I’d thought. And I needed more information. Hidden in the shadows, practically invisible, for the moment, I decided to continue laying low, and listen in on this conference call. If things turned ugly, I could still go postal on their asses, then grab the girls and run, but the more I knew about what I was up against, the better.

Hitman returned a few seconds later with the two Sanchez ladies in tow, just as Kat finished up connecting her gear. The main monitor came to life, and a dark haired man with a salt and pepper beard appeared on screen. I was all ears, primed and ready to eavesdrop... when, as luck would have it, one of the warehouse’s generators kicked on in the room behind me, all but masking the conversation.

DAMMIT! Damned, stupid, fucking bad luck gremlins and their lousy fucking sense of timing...

Determined to hear what was going on, I took a chance, intensifying the shadows along the wall as I slid slowly closer to the computers. From my location, this put me behind everyone, where I could no longer see the man on the screen. On the good side, I was able to see and hear everyone else in the room, so no one would be able to sneak up on me. The light was brighter the close I got to the computer mainframe, so I dropped to my knees, crawling closer to the ground to avoid attracting undue attention. I knelt down, huddling just behind the monitor, finally able to hear them talking.

“...sure that this program of yours is able to do the job,” the man’s voice came through the speakers. “We’ve been trying to perfect an infallible method for obedience programming for years now, always close, but never quite getting there. Are you absolutely certain you’ve cracked the code?”

“Absolutely?” Kat said, frowning slightly. “Well, Sir, nothing is absolute, you understand. With a closed system such as this, reliability has been established, under optimal conditions, naturally. If we induce this into an open system, we will need to ensure strict methods of control exist to monitor and adjust any unforseen random factors to ensure stability—”

“Can you ball park it for me, Doc?” the man’s voice replied, irritably. “Yes or no. Will this work or not?”

“Oh. Um, yes. I think it will work just fine, providing—”

“That’s NAE wot the man asked,” a second voice cut across the speakers with a distinct Scottish burr. “Will it work, yea or nae? Dinnae think, Doctor. Be sure. Pretend yer life rests on the answer... for it very well might.”

Eyes widening, she swallowed lightly. “Then... um... y-yes. It will work. I’m sure of it.” She took a deep breath to settle her nerves. “I’ve, um, set up a little demonstration to show its effectiveness.” She snapped her fingers, and Miss Sanchez and her daughter stepped forward, and knelt, naked before the monitor. “I embedded the the code into a virus and sent it via email to this girl’s computer. It not only ensnared her, it captured her mother as well as their maid.” She sighed. “We would have had the maid as well, but some guy interfered. They are both completely enthralled, obedient to my slightest whim.” She lifted her skirt, revealing her shaved bare pussy underneath. “Rita, come here and lick my pussy,” she said with a smirk as the younger girl moved to obey. Alexandra, tongue your daughter’s ass while she eats me out.” The older woman moved immediately into position, and both slaves began following their owner’s orders.

“Yes, very nice,” the first man’s voice came through after a few moments, “It’s impressive, but we didn’t set up this conference to watch you enjoy having kinky mother-daughter sex. Do you have anything else to offer?”

“My turn, then,” Hitman said, stepping up in front of the monitor. He snapped his fingers, and Megan stepped forward, as naked as the other girls, but with her goggled atop her head and her gadget belt around her waist. “Allow me to introduce Techna, a local super heroine of minor repute. Remember that ‘interference’ Miss Hogan mentioned earlier? Well, she and her partner decided to drop by uninvited, trying to rescue the other two slaves. Heh. As you can see, the big rescue didn’t turn out so well.” He pointed at his feet, and Techna obediently knelt down, covering his shoes with loving kisses and licks. “She’s completely tamed. Five minutes of watching Kat’s little brainwashing program, and she’s ours to do with as we please.”

“Hmm... okay, that IS impressive,” MacDonald said after a moment. “I... er, we were concerned as to how it would affect Supers. Their kind tends to be troublesome... more resistant, more willful—”

“Actually,” Kat piped in helpfully, “from my own personal research, I’d say just the opp... ooohhhh... Rita, yes, just like that.... mmmm... Sorry. I’d say just the opposite. In my experience, Supers, particularly the females, seem to be even more susceptible that the average person on the street. Maybe its the....oohhhhhhh... lifestyle... orr... orrr.. genetics! OH! OH! FUCK!! FUCK!! MMMMMMMYYEEESSS!!” she screamed as her slave brought her to orgasm. Sighing softly, pushing the girl away, she straightened her skirt and blouse.

Heh. Grinning like the cat that got the cream. Or, in this case, the pussy that just got creamed.

Uh oh. Slight problem. Pushed away from her Mistress’ delta, the girl, Rita, now squatted about three feet away from me. In fact, she was staring right at me. I’m not sure if it was the shadows hiding me, or just her mindless state, but she wasn’t reacting. For the moment. If I so much as sneezed, she would have me dead to rights. And everyone else would know exactly where I was. Maybe it was time to cut loose and sort out the bodies later...

“I don’t like it,” the second man’s voice growled through the speaker. “I don’t like having Supers involved in this venture. Not right now. And most certainly not there, in your area, too close to River City! The last thing I need right now is for Armor Man and his overly muscled mate sticking their noses in my business.”

Whoa. Okay... that sounded a bit personal. And... something about that guy’s voice... definite Scottish burr whenever her gets upset or excited. Maybe I should hold off a wee bit longer. If only I were in a better position to see his face...

“Relax, Sir,” Hitman said easily, flipping his coin again. “We’re secure. We’ve been here for weeks now, and the closest thing we’ve had to outside interference was those two D-list Supers showing up looking for their friend.” He chuckled, and I bristled, hands clenching into fists.

D-list??? I’ll show you D-list, you son of a bitch...

“And they aren’t any trouble, anymore,” he continued, not knowing a ticking time bomb sat just a few feet away, ready to explode all over his arse! “The guy is on ice... and the girl, well, she’s a virtual blank slate, nice and empty headed, ready for me to fill it with anything I desire.” He grabbed Techna by her hair, pulling her face up to face him. “Isn’t that right, my little techno-slut?”

“Yes, Master,” she purred softly, rubbing against his leg. “Empty... and waiting for you to fill me. Fill me, Master... please fill me.”

Oh HELL NO! Fuck that! THAT. WAS. IT!

I hadn’t meant to lose it. I really hadn’t. But seeing Megan degraded that way... hearing how aroused she was at BEING degraded that way... by HIM of all people... it was more than I could stand! Aside from a few minor things, my bad luck gremlins had mostly behaved themselves. Mostly. Now that I was deeply and thoroughly pissed, however, those little buggers decided to go into overdrive.

“Aahhh! What the hell?” Kat yelled, pushing away from her workstation as several hundred dollars worth of hardware short circuited in a big way. The few overhead lights that were still working blew out, illuminating the room with a flash of blue before shattering. I cried out, covering my face from the bright flash, stumbling back a bit further from the workstation, which was now in flames. Standing up, rubbing my eyes, I saw that everyone was now staring at me in shock.

“How in the fuck did you...” Hitman began, then shook his head. He laughed, long and hard, despite the situation. “Bravo. Bravo. I have to give you credit kid. I underestimated you again. You’ve got determination.” He glanced at the Kat and her two victims. “Get outta here. Get whatever stuff you need from the back room, and get to the van. I’ll be along after I take care of Mr. Tough Guy here.” The women left, heading out the back.

“You don’t know the half of it,” I growled, popping my knuckles one by one. “I’ll make you a deal. You release Techna, and let her and the Sanchez women go free, and I won’t beat you to within an inch of your life. How’s that sound?”

He laughed again, then gestured to Techna. Who stood up before him, deferring to him as if he were her... Master? Grrrrr. “I have a counter proposal,” he said smugly. “I propose that I let my little techno-slut here beat the crap out of you with all those neat little gizmos on her belt, while Kat and I make good our escape.” He grinned evilly. “Feel free to fight back. From what I’ve seen of you, you could no doubt wipe the floor with her pretty easily. But, of course, you’d be beating up your own dear friend in the process. Your choice.”

I said nothing, merely fuming. THIS is why no one in their right mind wants to be a hero... and if, for some unknown insane reason they do, this is why no sane person wants a sidekick! You never know when some unscrupulous villain is going to come along and torture you with some impossible choice.

Nodding to Techna, he said simply. “Okay, Techno-slut. Kill him.”

Eyes widening, then narrowing, my mind-fucked former lover, slave, and partner nodded. “Yes, Master. I will kill him. I will obey.”