The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The sleek, high tech motorcycle glided silently into the alley. Its silver-clad rider paused for a moment, scanning the unsavoury street through equally advanced optics, before dismounting in one fluid movement.

Ampere patted Liathe gently, signalling the machine to remain in sentry mode and then she stalked carefully towards the crime scene. Garish white and blue tape hung dejectedly here and there, the only indication that anything untoward had occurred. She knew the Scene of Crime Officers would already have swept the area, but the young heroine had little faith in their ability to catch this particular criminal.

All the clues she had gathered led to one inescapable truth. The Confectioner, her old nemesis, had returned. She shivered at the memory of their last encounter, remembering just how close she had come to falling. But, with Geist still trying to understand her new powers, there was no one else who could take him down, once and for all.

A series of beautiful woman had been kidnapped and the rumour was they were taken to order and sold into slavery. The police hadn’t made the link between these disappearances and the sweet-themed villain. But, according to the police computer, last night the kidnapper had moved up to abducting a police officer.

Thorough though they had been, (not least because they were now investigating the loss of one of their own), the police didn’t have access to her resources. Ampere went over the alley with a fine-toothed comb, exploring it down to the minutest detail and, after nearly half an hour, the heroine found a small scrap of fabric.

At first it seemed unimportant, but with the vast resources of information available to her through the futuristic goggles, Ampere quickly identified it as coming from a police issue barathea blazer. The superheroine stooped, noticing the thin smear of sticky residue that clung to the dark material. She’d need to get it back to base, in order to be sure, but Ampere was already sure she had recognised one of the Confectioner’s creations.

It didn’t bring her any closer to tracking the nefarious fiend, but at least it proved she was on the right track.

She placed the evidence in a small ziplock bag and then ran back to her motorcycle without sparing the alley another glance. The heroine sped off into the night, desperately hoping she could find the Confectioner before he sold his prisoners to the highest bidder.

It was already getting light when Ampere rode back into base. She quickly settled Liathe into her recharging booth, soothing the construct’s digital anxiety. Once she deposited the evidence in the fridge, the heroine headed straight for the shower. Skin-tight silver lycra might have been stylish, but after a few hours it did tend to get a little sweaty.

As she climbed the steep stairs to her bedroom, the shapely heroine didn’t notice that the refrigerator door had somehow sprung open. All Ampere wanted to do was throw herself under the hot water, and then fall into her welcoming bed.

Behind her, droplets of amber dribbled wetly across the floor, defying gravity as they oozed impossibly. The thick syrup crawled inexorably towards the sink, flowing upwards in slender ribbons. Finally, it reached the lip of the basin, where it poured down into the waiting drain, apparently eager to return to its source.

Even the tiniest, discarded fragments retained a partial connection to the controlling consciousness. The syrup oozed through the pipework, following its programming. The organic messenger had information to pass on and, just as soon as the slippery blob got close enough, the Confectioner was going to know exactly where to find his enemy.

Meanwhile, Ampere had already peeled herself out of the slick, silver catsuit. She discarded the soiled outfit, and climbed eagerly into the spacious shower cubicle. A torrent of hot water engulfed her, scouring away the day’s accumulated grit and grime. She filled her hands with thick gel, smearing the cool liquid over herself and relishing the invigorating mixture of sensations.

Her eyes drifted closed, as her fingers continued to massage the rich lather into her skin. Unbidden, the memories of her recent travails begin to slip through her mind. Her hands slid lower, unconsciously slowing and lingering more lewdly. Despite herself, Ampere could feel arousal prickling. Even though she had been in peril, it was impossible to deny the excitement she had felt at being bound and pleasured.

She knew that the same thoughts were percolating through Geist’s mind, although neither of them had dared talk about it since their escape from the Anaesthetist and his sleepy torments. Thinking about her friend merely added another layer of eroticism to her growing fantasy. Soapy fingers slid over her neatly shaven mound, dipping into the already sticky heat of her aching sex.

Ampere moaned softly, enjoying the water’s vigorous massage as it pounded her neck and shoulders. Static played hungrily over her swollen lips, forcing her to give a delighted giggle. Then, one probing nail found the sweet tension of her clit and it was all she could do to hold herself in check.

Through force of will alone, the heroine slowed her gentle strokes. Her breathing was already hoarse and punctuated with low whimpers of building need. She could picture Jennifer’s sweet curves, her limbs cruelly pinioned and her mouth gagged. Unable to speak, Geist still made it abundantly clear that all she wanted, right then, was for Ampere to give her the release she so desperately craved.

The heroine licked her lips, recognising that with her own hands bound so very tightly, she would be forced to use every other part of her body to give her friend what she so richly deserved. Her lips, tongue, and teeth. Her warm breasts, tight nipples, even her flowing hair. Whatever it took, just so long as they both got what they wanted.

When the water began to slow, Ampere didn’t notice. The flow stuttered, becoming increasingly more erratic and then it died completely. For a long moment, the heroine stood there, lost in her daydream, with one hand deep between her powerful thighs and the other cupping and massaging one tender breast.

Then, the first, long drooling stream poured from the showerhead, spattering over the young woman’s shoulders and dribbling slowly down her spine.

Ampere yelped, instantly recognising the cloying scent of the Confectioner’s sugar. Already half lost, the wisps of steam made her head spin, while the dripping syrup took her arousal and simply doubled then redoubled it.

She lunged for the door, her soapy hands clutching at the handle. More and more of the sugary slime ran over her flesh, and then, without warning, a familiar voice whispered in her ear.

“Hello again, Sparkie,” the Confectioner gurgled happily. “Oh how I’ve missed you, and your all too succulent body.”

A strong sticky hand clamped over her face, easily dragging her back from the door and the possibility of escape.

“Time for your nap now,” the villain whispered. “But don’t worry, I’ll be here to take good care of you while you sleep.”

The spunky heroine groaned defiantly into the Confectioner’s hand, but in truth she could already feel the orgasm growing ever closer. And Ampere knew that when she succumbed, the villain’s poison would dash away her senses.