The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

RUSH TO SURRENDER

Part One

Everything was a pink blur.

Jen blinked. Everything was still a pink blur, but there was a line above and behind her where it changed to a more purplish shade. She was lying on her back, looking up at the ceiling and a bit of the wall behind her. Things were starting to make sense.

She could move her eyes, but not her head. Something was pressed tight against her temples, and a band tightened around her throat when she tried to look down at herself. She tried to move her arms, but something was holding them at the wrist. She thought she felt something around her upper arms, too, but wasn’t really sure. Her legs were also bound at the ankles... and at the thighs? She was able to shimmy a little, enough to feel two soft but firm bands around each arm and leg. She was stuck in position, legs partly spread and arms at her sides.

She couldn’t really tell, but she felt like she was naked.

It was like something out of a porn movie. She wasn’t in a porn movie; she was on an assignment. The last thing she remembered was going in after Ilsa. Did Ilsa put her in this porn-movie getup? But Ilsa was a woman. But... some women liked to fuck other women. That was in porn movies, too—one woman tying up another woman and having her way with her.

She felt like she did the time in college when she and Claire had both gotten really drunk and she’d woken up in Claire’s bed naked with her hand stuck under Claire’s butt. Woozy and scared and sexy— woozy and scared and that’s all she told herself, forcing the thought aside. She was still loopy from whatever had knocked her out. That’s why she was thinking things that didn’t make any sense and didn’t matter and were in the past and were never talked about again instead of what she needed to think about... which was to get out of here before... before anything else bad happened.

Focus on that. Forget about everything else.

Systematically, she tried to find out as much as she could about her situation. All she could tell by feel was that she was lying on something more like a padded platform than a mattress. It had some kind of raised ledge just below her feet, but was otherwise featureless. She shimmied herself against it, and the surface was definitely sliding directly against her skin. She was naked. She told herself it wasn’t important. Ilsa probably stripped her naked to make sure she didn’t have any hidden tools or weapons. That made sense.

One at a time, she flexed her arms and legs as far as she could. Her hands and feet each had an inch, maybe two, of wiggle room. She felt a tug on her thighs when she tried to move her hands outward; her thigh and wrist bands were tied to each other. The realization felt good; it meant her head was clearing.

Jen pushed and pulled as hard as she could, trying steady pressure and sudden jerks and one limb at a time and all her muscles at once. None of it did any good; her range of movement didn’t increase a bit as far as she could tell.

She paused, took a deep breath, and tried to figure out how she’d ended up here. Ilsa Margraff had disappeared a month ago, along with most of the plans and equipment for the advanced neural scanner she’d been working on. The techs had recovered some of her files. She’d been doing unauthorized experiments, adding a feedback inducer element to write brain signals as well as read them.

There wasn’t enough information to show exactly what she was trying to do or how close she was to being able to do it. The Agency’s guesses ranged from worrisome to terrifying.

They had one lucky break: Ilsa had left without a few of the key components used in her private experiments. They had been lent out to another lab the day she’d made her move. The Agency watched for any attempt to acquire replacements. A few days ago, they’d gotten a hit —an order for exactly the right equipment, to be delivered to an isolated empty cabin, usual signature requirement waived. The team had left the dummy package and set up a perimeter to watch for anyone coming or going. The last thing she remembered was calling in to report another half-hour of nothing happening.

It must have been a trap. She’d been ambushed, knocked out, and brought here... wherever “here” was. Maybe the rest of the team had found clues when she failed to make her next check-in, maybe not. Or maybe Ilsa had accomplices, and had ambushed them all. She tried not to think about that.

Jen began tensing her muscles, preparing to make another attempt to find some weakness in her bonds. Then she heard a sound to her left— a door opening.

“Hello, Jennie.”

It was Ilsa Margraff’s voice.

“The rest of the team will be coming after me any time now. Let me go, and I’ll see what I can do for you.” Jen didn’t really think Ilsa would buy it, but her reaction might reveal something.

“The rest of your team is still trying to figure out what happened to you,” Ilsa replied.

“Good, Jen thought, they’re OK. Probably. Unless she’s playing head games with me. All I can do is hope she’s telling the truth.”.

“They might even find the car I was driving, inside the old abandoned barn where I changed vehicles before burning the place down,” her captor continued. “I doubt they’ll be able to follow us all the way here.”

Jen tried not to show her worry. Rescue didn’t look very likely, if Ilsa had taken such precautions to obscure her trail. Sounding more confident than she felt, she said, “They found you once; they’ll find you again.”

“They found me once?” Ilsa snorted. “You mean, they found the red herring I put in the last set of experimental notes to see whether the Agency was able to reconstruct them.”

“So it was a trap.”

“It was a precaution. If your people showed up, it meant you knew something. I needed one of you to tell me just how much the Agency knows and what they intend to do about it.”

“I’m not going to tell you anything.” It was a flat statement of fact, as far as Jen was concerned.

“Yes, you will.” Jen heard the clicking of a keyboard to her left, and then a faint humming in both ears. “Remember, I didn’t actually need those parts you were tracking. I finished building and testing the cerebral modulator last week. Those pads pressed to the sides of your head are the interface elements.”

Jen gritted her teeth. Ilsa’s project was some kind of electronic brainwashing device. That had been one of the more alarming possibilities mentioned in her briefings. Maybe it wouldn’t work. Maybe she could fight off its influence. All she could do now was hope and try.

She caught a vague blur of movement out the corner of her eye. “The interrogation can wait,” Ilsa said. Jen felt a hand on her knee. “I waited an extra hour for a chance to get you, not just any member of your team.” The hand slid up and around to the inside of her thigh, caressing her just below the leg band. “Even under your field jacket and helmet, I could see enough of your blond hair and perky tits and shapely ass and long legs to know I wanted you.”

Jen forced herself to hold still, to take a deep breath and hold it a moment and think about what to say. “I’m not gay.” was the only thing that came to mind.

“You will be,” Ilsa purred.

“That’s impossible!” Jen snapped. She realized she was slipping into gut responses when she ought to be thinking it through, finding ways to buy time or gain psychological leverage. She just couldn’t help herself. Ilsa was creeping her out.

“It’s possible now. It’s simply a matter of channeling your thoughts and reflexive responses in a new direction.”

Ilsa gave her thigh a squeeze, then let go. After a few moments, she heard the keyboard again, followed by Ilsa’s voice. “Allow me to demonstrate. Close your eyes, and keep them closed.”

Jen closed her eyes. She immediately opened them again, without meaning to. Puzzled, she tried again, and then again. She could blink, but not keep her eyes closed for even half a second.

“That doesn’t prove anything!” she said. Her voice sounded a bit worried and uncertain in her own ears.

“It proves that your body is mine, any time I want it to be. It proves that you have no choice but to look at the things I want you to see.”

Jen shivered. She couldn’t deny those statements.

“Now, close your eyes.” Jen did, and they stayed closed. Then she felt something soft draped over them. She opened her eyes, and everything was dark. She tried to shake off the blindfold, forgetting that her head was clamped in place. Then she tried to utter a protest, and felt something round pushed into her mouth. She tried to push it out with her tongue, but it wouldn’t budge. A hand slid under the back of her neck, and then a cord pulled tight into place behind her head.

“Take it out!” she tried to yell. “Ggkg t mmt!” emerged from the gag.

“I won’t keep you in the dark for too long, Jennie dear,” Ilsa’s voice said. “I think the process will work best if you have as few distractions as possible.”

Tap-tap-tap from the keyboard.

Jen gasped into her gag, overwhelmed by the sudden surge of heat and tension and raw need in her cunt.

“You want sex, Jennie. You can’t possibly deny it. Do you still think I can’t make you want sex with another woman? With me?” Ilsa chuckled. “But of course you can’t answer right now. You wouldn’t be in any condition to answer even if I removed your gag. All you can think about right now is how and wet and horny and needy you are.”

Jen heard the door open again. “I’m going to wash up and change into something more appropriate. By the time I get back, you should be nicely softened up for the next phase. This is just the beginning, Jennie. Do you still think it’s ‘impossible’ for me to make you mine?”

The door closed.

Jen took deep ragged breaths. Desperately, she tried to pull her hands loose, not trying to escape but rather attempting to get her fingers between her legs and give herself relief. The sensation eased off a bit, and then her hips twitched as it spiked to new heights of intensity. It kept happening over and over, sometimes with one peak following hard upon another, sometimes with enough delay for her to begin forming a train of thought before losing it again.

“I have to fight this!” she told herself. “I’m not going to let her do this to me!” I’m not going to let her...” She moaned into the gag as her body reacted to another twinge between her legs.

“Not going to let her... what? Not going to let her... do something about this?” Even in her thoughts, she couldn’t quite admit to contemplating... that. Another stray thought hit her, as she wondered what, exactly, she and Claire had done to each other that drunken night....

She forced the thought aside. “No!” She tried gritting her teeth against the ballgag, until her jaw—like the rest of her body —quivered with another rush of sensation.

“I’m not like that!” she told herself, when she could think again. “I’m not!”

Another wave, less intense but more prolonged than usual, washed over her.

On the tail end of it, an idea popped into her head. “I could pretend to be like that. I could... trick her into untying me so we could... make love... and then I could escape.”

It occurred to her that if she could catch Ilsa off guard as soon as she got loose, she might even be able to avoid having to really go through with it. She considered the notion, but more and more objections kept occurring to her. “No... she’ll be too suspicious. I’ll have to lull her into relaxing... make her think I’m really falling for her. And I’ll be too stiff and off-balance until I have a chance to limber up. I can let her take me to bed and start cuddling, and then make my move before she actually starts having sex with me. And I can get more information by stringing her along for a while....”

Jen shuddered again. Her cunt felt like it was on fire. She felt like she was close to cumming, but then her body settled down. She felt another long slow wave building within her, and saw mental images of herself lulling Ilsa out of her suspicions with a kiss and limbering up her arms and legs by wrapping them around the other woman’s body and trying to worm information out of her with quiet pillow talk.

She had a plan. She could let Ilsa have her way—pretend to let Ilsa have her way, she corrected herself—and avoid actually being brainwashed. Yield—pretend to yield—just enough for Ilsa to be fooled. Let Ilsa do just enough to quench the fire between Jen’s legs. She could do that and still not let Ilsa actually win.

All she had to do was hold that thought until Ilsa returned.