The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

One Last Trick

Somewhere along the way, it had all gotten a little strange. Kasumi pondered her options, struggling to concentrate on anything except the baying of the crowd. She was seriously outclassed, that much was clear. Her opponent seemed to have an almost encyclopaedic knowledge of injutsu and was using it to devastating effect. Close to surrender, she began to contemplate the previously unthinkable.

Kasumi was not your typical fighter. She lacked the ki energy to utilise most of the more powerful techniques. Almost entirely human, she was unable to fall back on the abilities of the oni, kitsune or nekomimi. What technological augmentation she did possess was woefully underpowered. But still, somehow, she had managed to reach the semi-finals. The problem was that in Hiraku, she seemed to have found an opponent who had the measure of her.

The two warriors circled each other. Kasumi shuddered slightly at the other woman’s predatory gaze. There was only one way this battle could end, and that was with one of them lying broken and defeated. She danced away from a series of strikes, barely able to fend them off. It was clear from her sloppy form, that the battle was taking its toll, even if her opponent barely seemed to have broken a sweat.

Her uniform was hardly the most practical, although many of the onlookers seemed to appreciate the sailor fuku. Her white blouse was tattered and torn, the red ribbon (which had been tied at the front), long since lost. Her pleated shirt was in better shape, although it too showed significant battle damage. Short enough before; it was now barely enough to cover her assets.

Only her loafers and loose socks were still pristine. The sock glue, holding them firmly in place, just below her knees. It was time. She had used up all of her tricks, every gimmick and device. Only one weapon remained, secret, hidden until now. The professor had never explained exactly what would happen once it was activated, but his hints had been enough to fuel her dread.

Braced, dropping into horse stance, she swept her feet on the dusty ground and tried to centre herself. Hikaru moved closer, a smug grin on her too perfect face. Twin kicks sent Kasumi’s shoes flashing towards that visage, only to see them batted aside with impudent ease.

“Cloth Shredding Mantis Claw”, the woman bellowed.

An outstretched palm caught Kasumi in the centre of her chest, knocking the wind out of her and sending her sprawling. Her skin crawled with lambent energy, stirring feelings deep within. She knew that she couldn’t withstand much more, before the attacks broke through her splintering shields.

It was only as she sprung back to her feet, that she realised what other damage the attack had inflicted. Her blouse was completely shredded, small breasts escaping their confinement and able to burst free. The crowd applauded, laughing and jeering, eager to see her shamed. Flushing she fought to keep control, knowing that she couldn’t afford to shield her nakedness from their eyes.

The other woman launched forward, waiting just long enough for Kasumi to regain her footing. It was all or nothing, defeat or victory with no other possibility. She rolled with the impact, planting one foot firmly against Hikaru’s pelvis, toes pressing into the softer flesh. The sacrifice throw was half-hearted, imprecise and ultimately ineffective.

For a second Kasumi’s foot rubbed against the woman’s groin, exerting trembling pressure on her swollen mound. The tip of a toe slipped inside, trailing down the slit before she knew what was happening. Hiraku’s counterattack was almost too much, fingers tapping lightly on nerve endings, beating out a rhythm against Kasumi’s tortured sex.

“Infinite Orgasm Prana”, Hiraku shouted.

Kasumi screamed, yet another orgasm ripping through her, vision blurring as she fought to stay conscious. The attacker allowed her weight to pin the smaller girl in place, exaggerating her strength and emphasising her dominance. Kasumi couldn’t break free, it was all over, she was going to lose and there was no way out.

* * *

Then, without warning, Hikaru stiffened and moaned. Her weight shifted and Kasumi clumsily rolled free. Hiraku looked confused, dazed, baffled. She could only just manage to rise, one large hand reached down towards her groin. Their eyes met for a moment and Kasumi saw her own shock mirrored in her opponent’s.

It had worked, apparently. Kasumi stepped towards her nemesis, pulling her panties’ sodden remnants from the woman’s frozen grasp. She ignored the crowd as they signalled their approval of her nudity, instead concentrating on winning her victory.

“If I just left you like this”, she whispered conspiratorially, “you could probably break free”.

The woman’s eyes seemed to flare, but perhaps that was just Kasumi’s imagination. By now the nanites should have locked down her voluntary responses. Shocked realisation flooded into her then and she tore at her socks madly, hopping in ungainly circles as she tried to remove them. Now that they were active, she didn’t want the damn things anywhere near her.

The crowd roared, not understanding what was happening, but enjoying the show none the less. It was not everyday that an auburn-haired schoolgirl bounced naked around the arena trying to divest herself of her only remaining articles of clothing.

Finally, she managed to get out of them. Only then could Kasumi return her attention to the match. Moving with exaggerated care she lowered the woman’s stiff body to the ground, anxious not to injure her in the process.

“But of course”, she explained as she worked, “I’m not planning to leave you like this at all”.

Her next action caused the audience to shout still louder. Any actual words were lost in the tumult, but their message was clear. Seeing the other fighter being stripped naked only added to the spectacle. Kasumi was sure that it must have been far easier to get into this catsuit than it was for her to remove it. She lacked the strength or ability to simply rip the strong material. But, in the end, and with a sense of growing triumph, she managed it.

She didn’t pause to admire her opponent’s body; the catsuit had left little enough to the imagination anyway. Instead she quickly moved to the next step. Simply incapacitating her wasn’t enough, by the rules of the tournament, the loser had to be defeated utterly.

So, Kasumi carefully rolled the unresisting woman onto her belly. She lifted one arm, pulling until it laid along side the woman’s spine, the hand nestling just above her buttocks. It slipped easily into her discarded sock, the material stretching enough that it could almost reach her shoulder. It was more of a struggle to manoeuvre the other arm, but eventually they were both held tightly. The sock acting as a woollen monoglove. She spent some time smoothing it into place, letting the glue hold and stick.

“I think you’ll find that wonderfully inescapable”, she whispered into the woman’s ear.

Then, without pausing, she began to force both of her captive’s legs into the second sock. It was less awkward, but with her larger frame, they didn’t reach anywhere near as high as they had when Kasumi wore them. Once they had been pulled as tight as possible, she rubbed them vigorously, making sure that they were nicely stuck. Finally, knowing it would only add to her feelings of helplessness, Kasumi rolled the other woman onto her back, exposing her for the crowd to admire.

* * *

The amazon lay supine on the floor of the arena, tightly bound with her opponent’s garments. She could feel a buzzing sensation, most intense where her body was wrapped. Slowly the sensation was beginning to spread. She fought to move, searching her memories for some technique that might get her out of this. But nothing had prepared her for anything like the situation in which she found herself.

Hikaru didn’t know what was happening, but it was clear that the socks were exerting a power even more insidious than the ability to hold her still. Her sex seemed to twinge, the imprint of Kasumi’s footprint burning slightly. It threatened to break through her mental barriers and she cursed herself for being so weak.

Kasumi could only watch for signs of a response. She felt the faint itch, crawling over her own legs and wondered how much of that was just due to anxiety and how much might be nanites trying to claim her as well. She fought the urge to scratch, knowing that it would make no difference. If she had been contaminated, she would know soon enough.

“Has the tickling reaching your mind yet?” she wondered out loud.

As if the sensations were responding to the comment, the woman felt the buzzing reach up into her head. It was enough to set her teeth on edge. The vibrations seemed to ebb and flow, but each surge only built in intensity. It was pleasure, pure and simple. Wonderful, almost orgasmic in nature, getting better and better. She hated it and she loved it.

She wanted to move, to yell, to scream. Wanted to vent her frustrations on the slip of a girl who had cheated. The thought lingered, seemed to ricochet inside her head. She could take her pleasure with this girl, it would make her feel so good. If only she could move. Then she would show her. Show her what pleasure really felt like. That’s what she wanted now, more than anything. To make her feel this good.

The buzzing increased again, overriding everything else. Her body twitched, muscle spasms breaking through the nanite’s grip. A loud groan escaped her slack lips, a mixture of desire and pain. Her thoughts spun and eddied, careering out of control. There was an itch she longed to scratch, something she needed to feel, that she needed to do.

Her arms struggled in their woollen prison, fighting against the warm material. Legs tried to kick, flailing impotently as she ground her thighs together. She wanted so badly now. Images and thoughts colliding within the vibrations. Anything to make her cum. Make the girl feel so good. Anything. Just to cum. Feel so good.

Kasumi recognised what was happening. Could see how close the woman was. How little it would take to finish it. She leant in close. Letting her breasts press against warm skin, gasping as their nipples met in glorious friction.

“You just need to ask for it”, she said breathlessly, “I can make it happen”.

It wasn’t as though the words held any real meaning for her anymore, but she did recognise the promise hidden within them. Grasping for anything that might lift her out of this, the woman cried out her need, begging, wanting. Her desire to cum so all consuming that at that point, she would give anything. Not caring, not thinking, just desiring.

“Let me cum”, she screamed simply, “please!”

“And what will you give me, if I allow you that one easy thing?” Kasumi asked, her tone cloying in its sweet teasing.

“Anything”, moaned the captive.

“Just anything?” she pouted, seemingly unimpressed.

“Everything!”

That was all it took. The pressure had built to such a point that a simple word could spark a chain reaction. An eruption of sensations, thoughts shattering along fault lines. The mindquake disrupting everything in its path, barriers crumbling into nothing. Everything dissolved into the pure white of that climactic fission. She had just enough time to scream, before her thoughts simply shut down.

The women clung together, bodies entwined as they shook in mutual ecstasy. Kasumi felt her opponent slump, her body relaxing as it surrendered to her. Giving everything as she had promised. Her defeat absolute and final.

She let the woman loll helplessly onto the ground. Then, rose slowly on legs that seemed stiff and suddenly uncoordinated. Kasumi lifted her head, accepting and basking in the adoration of the crowd. Unsteadily she stumbled towards the exit, her legs buzzing with building need. All the while, hoping against hope that the professor knew how to stop the process once it had begun.