The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Enslaver watched avidly as his apprentice extracted the necessary information from the once-proud woman. Arclight’s subjugation had gone entirely according to plan and she was now eager to assist in the capture of her former colleagues. The villain was amused and more than a little impressed, by the way in which his minion used the heroine’s desires against her. She wanted to outshine the other superheroines. Of course, in her new role as an obedient slave she still felt the need to be the best. How could she better prove her continued superiority over them than by helping to enslave them?

He was still following the list, and by dint of that fact, his next victim would be Cypher. Slave amanda had kindly provided some access codes and the supervillain had a very special message which he would send to the unprepared woman. The delicious irony of trapping a computer nerd by using an email was really quite intoxicating.

True magic didn’t have to involve elaborate hand gestures and chanted phrases in ancient languages. In fact it merely required the practitioner to impose his or her will onto reality. The mystical trapping generally helped to focus one’s attention, but the villain considered them to be something akin to a crutch. To the casual onlooker he seemed only to pause for a few moments. They would perhaps have noticed how his eyes became unfocussed, as though he were gazing into the distance.

Satisfied that the enchantment was now in place, he clicked on the “send” button and waited for the heroine to reply. Idly he wondered which route Cypher would take through his maze and how long it would take before slave amanda would be joined by her new sister carol.

Carol sat at her desk and for what must have been the hundredth time today, wished that she were somewhere, anywhere else. Short, scrawny and pale-skinned she could not have been further from the archetypal superheroine in appearance. Large, thick-lensed glassed seemed to cover half of her face, an effect completed by the large unkempt mane of blonde hair, which sat atop her head.

Of course, in the tradition of secret identities, Carol could transform in an instant, becoming Cypher. As a superheroine her skin was described as alabaster and without her glasses people would focus on her bright blue eyes. Limpid was the adjective that sprung to mind. Even her unruly hair was tamed, pulled mercilessly into a long ponytail.

A soft chime announced the arrival of an email. This in itself would not have been reason to celebrate, but Carol had instantly recognised the sender. She knew that if Amanda was actually contacting another member of the “team”, then something truly extraordinary must have happened.

First, Carol glanced around, to make sure that no one was watching. She then opened the innocuous-looking mail, and was about to see what Amanda wanted when abruptly the screen saver kicked in. Or at least that was what she assumed had happened.

A swirling mass of colour appeared on screen, instantly drawing her attention. For a moment she was confused as to what was happening, but then she felt a sudden wave of dizziness and it was almost as though she were falling into the screen. She shook her head lazily, her mind still reeling, but then she looked up into the pattern again, and she was lost.

Carol found herself totally focussed on the swirling shapes and colours, falling deeper and deeper into a state of relaxed attention. She didn’t really understand what was happening, but the effects were pleasant enough and she was happy merely to allow her eyes to lose focus, as she seemed to sink into her chair. Moments later she was so relaxed that several seconds passed before she recognised that the maelstrom of colours had disappeared.

Her eyes seemed to be drawn back to Amanda’s email, reading the words, which seemed to command her unwavering attention. The young woman’s entire body felt so heavy, she seemed to be pinned in place by a great, comforting weight. It felt so nice, so placid and tranquil.

“You will find that you gaze is fixed upon my words now”, the email began.

“And you will also find that if you try to pull your gaze away from them, all that will happen is that your muscles will become too relaxed and sleepy to move”, it continued.

Carol continued to read, wondering why Amanda had sent such a strange message.

“Go ahead and try,” the words urged, “to look away, to keep your eyes closed, to back away from the screen, to reach out and turn it off”.

She struggled, fighting to break the strange spell that the words seem to hold over her. But they were right, all that happened was that her muscles seemed to weaken and relax. It was becoming an effort to merely remain sitting upright in the chair.

“You can’t do any of that, can you?” it asked.

Carol couldn’t understand what was happening, but the words were right. It seemed, for the moment at least, that she couldn’t do anything but sit back and read.

“Just focused”, it told her.

“And helpless”

Only two simple words, but still she shuddered. Fear warred with arousal, and the heroine couldn’t decide which was more disturbing.

“Fixed”

“And unnaturally calm”, the message went on.

“You know that you should be fighting, struggling, resisting, but these words are so reassuring”.

Carol found herself agreeing, she knew that she should be doing all those things.

“And their grip on you seems so total, that part of you wonders if you should just give in, follow and do everything I suggest”.

The heroine wanted to believe that the words were wrong, but she knew that on some level that was exactly how she felt. Something was very wrong and yet it all seemed to feel so right.

“That idea is very attractive to you right now”, the words told her, “just sitting back, reading on, being attentive, doing what you are told … like a Good Girl”.

She gasped, not wanting to admit what she was feeling. Her arousal seemed to burn within her, rising moment by moment and making her ache with need. She wanted so much to just reach down and begin to pleasure herself, and yet she knew with certainty that she couldn’t. After all, the words told her that she was fixed in place, didn’t they?

“Of course”, she read on, “being a typically spunky superheroine, you’ll probably start to struggle round about now”.

The words seemed to remind her of what she should be doing. She realised belatedly that she had been lost for a moment, just happy to be led. How could she have been so stupid? Some villainy was at work, and she could not allow it to best her.

“It feels nice though, doesn’t it?” the words asked innocently, “But of course you are still captive and who know what devious things I’m planning on doing with you?”

“Struggling now”, the words reminded her.

“Fighting”

“Resisting”

“So while you sit there, quite literally my captive audience. While you try to pretend that this whole experience isn’t making you hot and horny in your helplessness. Why don’t you have a look at some pretty pictures?”

Slowly the swirling colours seemed to settle, an image becoming gradually more distinct. Carol realised that she was squinting at the screen, trying to recognise what was appearing. Distantly she wondered what was happening, but it seemed unimportant somehow. It was only when the image had sharpened completely that the words continued their inexorable crawl.

“The first two ladies you probably don’t recognise”, the email told her, “they were just unfortunate enough to work at the bank I robbed. Allow me to introduce them anyway. Slave grace is the delightful redhead on the right. Next to her is slave karen and I’m sure you recognise the young lady kneeling between them don’t you?”

For a moment it was a mystery, then suddenly recognition dawned. Carol couldn’t quite reconcile the docile young woman kneeling on the screen before her with the proud and abrasive Arclight. But it was definitely her. Body wrapped in laces, apparently bound and gagged.

“Now that I have your undivided attention”, the email continued, “allow me to introduce myself as well. I am The Enslaver, although soon you will be happy to address me simply as Master”.

The heroine was trying to break free from the word’s unnatural grip. But her eyes kept returning to Amanda’s face. She looked so small and weak. Everything about her proclaimed that she was blank, docile, helpless even programmable. Carol wasn’t sure where that last idea had come from, but once again she felt her body shiver uncontrollably.

“I’m sure that you are eager to come and rescue your friend. Of course, by doing so you will doom yourself to the same fate”, the email seemed to tease, “But, if you are so foolish as to come, we’re waiting for you here”.

She scanned the address, recognising it as an industrial estate and predictably in the “bad” part of town. This Enslaver had admitted that this was a trap, but it seemed that she had no option but to walk into it. Once again her gaze returned to the picture, how could she possibly leave her friend with this fiend?

With a start she realised that the email had begun to scroll again. Her eyes seemed draw to the motion, and no sooner had a new sentence appeared, that she felt herself being sucked in once more.

“Now”, the words told her, “I think you need to take a few minutes to relax for me and just soak up all the wonderfully sneaky suggestions that are contained in this message. When you’ve absorbed and accepted everything, you’ll find that you’ll be able to move and act freely again. I suggest that you enjoy that luxury while it lasts!”

Very slowly the picture disappeared. Was it her imagination, or for a moment did she see her own face mirrored on one of the helpless girls? The hidden messages began to exert their evil influence on the young heroine. Slowly she could feel herself becoming more aroused. She didn’t understand, but for some reason she felt an intense sexual excitement that built from moment to moment. Why would the idea of being naked and captured excite her?

Without thinking, Carol’s hand found the waistband of her skirt and she began to stroke herself idly. Leaning back, she let her eyes drift closed. Her breathing became more laboured and still her ardour grew. The strokes became firmer and a knot of pleasure began to grow in her stomach. She gasped and suddenly a great wave of ecstasy rolled over her, the knot expanded until it threatened to consume her, then unexpectedly another wave crashed down, and all she could see was a mass of swirling colours.

Carol’s body continued to convulse, each orgasm driving her deeper and deeper. Eventually she lay still, having fallen from her chair and onto the carpeted floor at some point. Every now and then, her eyes would flicker slightly and a soft moan might escape her lips, the only evidence of the continuous pleasure that wracked her body.

Time passed in blissful oblivion. Eventually her movements slowed until she finally lay still. It was some time later that she finally drifted back to consciousness. Carol took several moments orientating herself before she realised she was lying on the floor, her face matted to the carpet where she must have drooled at some point. Carefully she got to her feet, feeling surprisingly good, given that she had lain so uncomfortably for who knew how long?

Abruptly she realised that she was staring at the computer screen again and she quickly looked away. But the message appeared to have run its course; all that remained was the address and the mocking warning not to visit if you wished to retain your freedom.

Carol wrote down the details, still not quite trusting the seemingly inert email. Then, just to be sure, she deleted it and instructed the computer to over-write it with random noise. She managed to avoid her co-workers as she slipped quietly into the bathroom. Moments later she had tidied herself up and felt ready to take on the world. She harboured no illusion that she could waltz into the villain’s lair by herself. Instead she planned to bring as many heroines with her as possible.

It occurred to her as she headed towards the underground car park, that she had no idea what other suggestions she might have been exposed to. She slipped into her car and made a mental note to ask Miriam to scan her mind for her before she did anything silly. Worry gnawed at her as she pulled onto the main street and headed towards their headquarters.