The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Society 2: Masks and Capes

Chapter Two: The Heart-Attack Machine, Part One

The woman eased open the cast-iron window with a slight, muted grunt of exertion. She slowly pushed aside the extravagant, royal purple curtain that dressed the window and hooked her leg over the window sill. Her eyes glanced around the bedroom’s darkened interior.

An outline of a woman stirred beneath the heavy, scented blankets of the four poster bed.

“Maria?” The woman croaked drearily.

“I’m here,” The intruder said quietly, reassuringly, and sat on the bottom edge of the bed. She brushed a stray strand of jet black hair from her face and began working free the constricting laces that kept her boots on her feet, “I tried not to wake you, Anna, sorry.”

“Could have just used the front door,” Anna’s lips twisted into one of her customary sardonic smiles.

“I locked it all before I left,” Maria gently held her lover’s leg over her lap as she kicked her boots away. Her hand slowly began to massage Anna’s thigh. “Security system and all. We agreed that I shouldn’t know the code, in case...”

“In case...” Anna nodded solemnly in response, the implied understanding between the two of them to horrible a thought to give voice to. “Did you find anything?”

“Yes,” Maria’s jaw tightened slightly, then twitched as she took in a deep breath. “A lot.”

Anna wiped the sleep from her eyes and sat upright. “What did you see?”

“I think it was her,” Maria said slowly, deep in thought. “It certainly looked like the picture you showed me, at least. She was talking to a domme. One of those low-rent types at the nightclubs. Then...”

“Yes?”

“...there was some sort of hood,” Maria shrugged, “And another woman. I didn’t recognize her. She put the hood on her and she just stopped.”

“She killed her?” Anna’s voice rose a decibel and she gulped audibly.

“No. But she might as well of. It turned her into a puppet, then she did the same to the domme,” Maria’s trembling hands slowly lifted away from Anna’s thigh and settled into her lap. “I’ve never seen a control method like this. Localized in a piece of clothing, almost instantaneous.”

Anna shook her head slowly, “Me neither. It certainly doesn’t fit with her MO.”

“Are you alright?” Maria turned and stared directly at Anna for the first time since she’d entered the room. “Yes,” A playful smile crossed Anna’s features. “Never been better in fact. I got a call from an old friend just after you left; someone who I think can help us with our rogue mind controller problem. She’s a specialist of sorts, she’s deals in problems like our current one.”

“A specialist of what? Nutcases?”

Anna’s smile widened. “Yes, actually.”

Maria sighed, relieved. “Thank god for that. I wasn’t exactly looking forward to going after this chick myself. I mean, hell, she managed to take out Teresa...”

Anna’s hand closed over Maria’s as she leaned in forward and placed a gentle line of kisses down the shaking woman’s neck. “Don’t worry, lover. It’ll all be alright.”

Maria smiled. “...tell me about this friend of yours.”

* * *

Victoria paced the swaying cargo bay of the jet. Her teeth were clamped down on her lower lip and her shoulders were hunched and her eyes were faraway and unfocused.

“You need to relax,” Jessica said for the third time in the past hour.

Victoria’s eyes pulled themselves away from the metal rivet they’d been staring intently at and glanced at her partner. “Something doesn’t add up here, Jess.”

“You said that already,” Jessica said slowly, nodding in response. “You didn’t say why though.”

Victoria sighed and sat down next to her. “Something about the way she’s been acting. She’s been so distracted lately.”

“Who? Matriarch?”

“Who else?” Victoria threw her hands up in the air in frustration.

Jessica shook her head. “She’s fine.”

Jessica’s eyes fell downward, glancing at the armoured breastplate she wore. The cyan livery stamped into its silver surface glowed with a dim, pulsing light.

Victoria followed her gaze. “What’s it saying?”

“She,” Jessica corrected her. “She’s saying that you should stay on the jet if you’re troubled. She’s saying that you’ll get us killed. Or worse.”

“You sure that’s her talking?” Victoria said.

Jessica’s hand, encased in a clumsy gauntlet, bumped against her shoulder. Victoria knew it was meant as a comforting gesture. Her face softened slightly. “Thanks. And sorry.”

Jessica set her armoured hands in her lap and nodded. “I think you’ll do fine.”

Victoria gasped sharply as she forced her hands to fall still and then breathed out slowly as she stood. “Yeah?”

“I also think you need to not worry so much. Matriarch can handle herself.”

“And if she can’t?”

Jessica rolled her eyes, “Then she’s got us to look out for her, duh.”

Victoria let out a soft chuckle. “I suppose.”

“Hey, we’re superheroes, babe. What could go wrong?”

Victoria glanced at the door to the cockpit as the jet bucked and bounced over an air-pocket. “With Evelyn flying when I should be? A lot. Listen, I’ll take the stick again and make sure we get there in one piece. Can you check on our guest?”

Jessica glanced at the stairs down to the holding area. “Yeah. Yeah, sure.”

* * *

The holding area had been a late addition to the jet’s already considerable weight and space. They’d all asked, at least once, of Matriarch where exactly she’d acquired the team’s aircraft. She’d never told them. Jessica, however, knew for a fact that the after-market additions; upgraded exhausts and engines, light-weight synthetic metals for the hull of the craft and the holding bay had been purchased from a small business that operated in the military industrial structure and specialized in advanced forms of transport.

After all her company was their primary benefactor.

She’d never made it clear to Matriarch just how much she knew about her methods, or her contacts. Jessica was happy to pay for the team’s outfitting, lodgings and personnel. Even if Matriarch was secretly a billionaire with ties to the military.

Well, she thought as she stepped down the last of the jostling, rattling stairs, maybe not a billionaire. But definitely someone with big pockets.

“I guess being immortal allows for an incredible investment portfolio,” She murmured to herself as she stepped away from the stairs and glanced around the room.

It was the same size and shape as the cargo bay and made up of the same bolted together metal slates and structuring. Except in the middle of the room was a pair of large, cast-iron cages. They wouldn’t be able to hold the likes of Gigantor, and the more magically or alchemically inclined villains they faced could probably wave the bars away with their hand, but for most villains the old fashioned comfort of a prison cell was enough to keep them in one place.

Villains like the one she was staring at right now.

His eyes lingered on her lithe frame; two hooded, black pits in the centre of his slender, gaunt face.

“Well,” Jessica shrugged, “what’s a nice super villain like you doing in a place like this?”

The self-titled Baron of Blades slowly brought his eyes up to meet hers. Then pressed a single, thin finger against his lips, “Ssssshhhh.”

Jessica stepped back, her eyes widening in mock surprise. The emblem on her chest flashed red twice, then subsided. “Well, that’s not very nice. I invite you onto my private jet, give you a nice cage to sit in for the journey...”

The Baron looked up at her; hooded eyes glinting in the low light, “I’m hunting wabbits.”

“Classical reference,” Jessica smirked, amused. “Nice. But I don’t think you’re in much of a position to be hunting anything, right now.”

“Oh really?” The Baron’s lips curved upward into a wicked smile. His face contorted briefly as he gasped in pain, then brought his right hand up into the light.

A trickle of blood ran down his thumb and pooled in his palm. Clutched in his fingers was something rounded and sharp and faintly white.

“Tearing off your own finger-nails,” Jessica gave a short grunt of surprise as she leaned in close. “I think I saw this in a movie once. What are you going to do? Pick the lock? Try and choke yourself on it?”

The Baron’s smile widened, “Not exactly.”

Jessica’s brow furrowed in confusion, “You-“

The Baron’s fingers became a blur as his hand snapped forward and twisted around. Jessica clapped a hand to the side of her face as a thin line of blood appeared along her cheek.

“Bastard!” Jessica hissed, dabbing at the blood with her palm. “I’m gonna’...”

“Yes?” The Baron’s eyebrows rose expectantly.

Jessica took a single, staggered step back, “Going to....”

Her eyes slid open slowly; easing themselves out into wide-eyed, blank stare. Her chest rose and fall in shallow, halting gasps of air. “Going...to....”

“Yes?” The Baron smiled thinly, “what were you going to do?”

Her knees trembled with the weight of the breastplate she wore. Her legs felt so weak all of a sudden. And why did the plate-metal that covered her chest suddenly feel so hot? So constricting? Her fingers worked at the straps that held it against her body numbly.

“I need to....sit down,” She decided at last, her head spinning as she looked around for a seat.

“No, no,” The Baron admonished her with a wicked smile, “You need to kneel.”

“I need to...” She paused, her fingers aching with need as they tore at the leather that held her armour on, “I need to...um...”

He was right. That silky, velvet-smooth voice was so right. Kneeling sounded so good right now; it would be so easy to let the weight that hang like a noose around her chest pull her downward to her knees and just stay there. Waiting, resting, recuperating, until the voice told her what to do next.

She needed to....

“Stop!” A voice screamed. An unearthly, wailing voice. The livery on Jessica’s breastplate exploded with a sheer, blue light. The Baron recoiled and threw his arm up to cover his eyes as the blinding cacophony of light and sound filled the hold of the ship.

“Jessica! Jessica!” The voice wailed, “This man doth vex both you and I!”

“Angelique...?” Jessica asked warily, her eyes snapping open.

“Aye, ‘tis me!” The voice shrieked. “How foolish a girl you are! To let this blackguard poison thine eyes and cloud thine mind!”

“Bastard!” Jessica spat. The realization that struck her a second later tightened her features into a harsh scowl.

The Baron’s face fell, “How? How could you possibly resist...”

A slight, thin smile spread across Jessica’s features as a lone finger dipped down to her chest and traced it’s way around the glowing outline of her family livery. “Well now that you’ve met my, well, rather famous ancestor Angelique DuPont, I think some things about the origins of my powers should be becoming a lot clearer now.”

The Baron’s eyes flitted between the glowing, burning light that emanated from Jessica’s chest and her smiling face. “A protective spirit. Impressive. The Doll-Master was right about the source of your powers. I couldn’t find any record of it, so I assumed he was in error when he claimed that your armour and sword were fuelled by a ghost.”

Jessica took a single, staggered step back. Her head swam. Her legs felt flush and hot. So did her cheeks. But she could focus now, think about all the training and protection mantras she’d learnt over the years, all the thoughts the voice – the Baron’s voice – didn’t want her to think about. “Well, a girl’s got to have some secrets.”

The Baron gave a slight grunt of displeasure, “Of course. That’ll be tough for even my poisons to break through.”

“Aye!” The ethereal voice chorused aloud and echoed; even in the tight confines of the cargo hold.

“Enough, Angelique,” Jessica chided the voice, “and thank you.”

She turned to leave and her gloved hand stroked the cut on her cheek gently as she ascended the first of the steps. She paused. “Oh, and Darius?”

The Baron cocked his head upwards, barely acknowledging her, “Hnnh?”

“My team-mates obviously don’t share my protection, so if you attempt to poison them with your little will-numbing concoction you just might succeed. I would advise against it, however.” Jessica’s face turned cold, hard.

“Oh, really?” The Baron snorted, bemused.

“Yes. I’m quite a rich, influential person. If I had to throw you out of the plane, it’s highly unlikely anyone would ever find out.”

And with that, she headed back upstairs to join the others.

* * *

“She’s a...a...a....oh, goddess!” Anna practically screamed in between gasped moans as she came.

Maria’s grinning face slowly came away from between her lover’s thighs and propped itself up by one her hands, “A goddess, really?”

“Oh yes,” Anna sighed, easing herself back into the plush pillows of her bed. Her breath came in shallow, rising moans as she came down from her third orgasm of the night. “A real life goddess.”

There was a knock at the bedroom door.

“Come in,” Maria coughed as she straightened herself up and adjusted her hair.

The door swung open gently and the maid stumbled in. Balanced precariously on top of a pair of black heels, the two titanic globes of flesh on her chest ensured she was constantly moving forward. A dull, empty grin was plastered across her face. Her tits and thighs were the only things not wrapped in the impossibly tight, whale-bone re-inforced, latex maid’s outfit she wore.

“Kitty,” Maria greeted the maid with a measure of distaste. She rolled the name around on her tongue and then gave a delicate sigh as Kitty pivoted on her heels to greet her with a stammered giggle.

“Yes, Mistress Maria?” Kitty’s painted lips twisted further upwards into an even wider smile than the one she’d wore moments before.

Maria suppressed a shudder and shook her head, “Where’s the tray of drinks I told you to bring up?”

Kitty slapped a gloved hand to her forehead and uttered a murmur of exaggerated shock, “Kitty left it in the kitchen, Mistress!”

Maria sighed again, Anna uttered a short gasp of stifled laughter from behind her. “Kitty, go get it. Bring it up.”

Anna interjected, “And bring the crop. I think you’ve earned another round with it, Kitty.”

“Of course, Mistresses!” The pink haired bimbo chirped excitedly, her thighs rubbing together.

Maria and Anna shared a look. A look of mutual bemusement.

The bimbo pivoted again, then bounced out the door. “Oh, and Mistresses?”

“Yes, Kitty?” Anna sighed and rolled her eyes at Maria.

“There’s a woman hear to see you. She’s dressed funny, and like, she keeps calling herself ‘drone’. Hee hee!”

Maria’s blood ran cold. Her throat tightened instinctively. “Where is she, Kitty?”

“In the foyer!” The bimbo called back excitedly as she clicked and clacked her way down the stairs.

Maria glanced at Anna, then at the window, then at the open bed-room door. “Stay here,” she mouthed silently.

Anna shook her head. Maria sighed.

“Fine.”

Maria’s boots clomped against the hard-wood floor as she led the way out onto the balcony overlooking the grand foyer. For a second, just a split second, she was almost afraid to look.

The drone stood precisely in the centre of the foyer, beside the end-table and loose circle of chairs Anna had procured last summer from a dealer in Italy.

It didn’t waver at all. In the space of a heart-beat Anna thought that perhaps the drone was in fact a statue, but then she noted the gentle rising of the drone’s latex-wrapped chest and discarded the notion. Even drones had to breathe. Regular, rhythmic, perfectly exact each time. In. Out.

The movement was almost hypnotic.

Anna suppressed a hysterical laugh at the thought, then gently took hold of the banister and began to descend the stairs. She glanced back halfway down; Maria still stood at the railing, staring down at the drone through awe-struck eyes.

“Maria?” Anna called out quietly, almost too worried about what would happen if the drone heard her to raise her voice any higher.

Maria simply shook her head once and then looked directly into Anna’s eyes. “Right.”

She joined Anna on the steps and then they made their way down to face the drone together.

It’s head rotated smoothly to face them as they dismounted the lowest step. Anna’s heart skipped a beat.

“Mistress commands me to see you, Anna Kane. I obey.” The voice was clinical. Empty. Hollow. In her time Anna had heard voices devoid of emotion; tranced completely beyond all feeling besides devotion. But she’d never heard a voice as inhuman and robotic as this one. There was no trace of an accent; whatever the Hood had done to this woman it had stripped away all semblance of personality.

“What does...” Anna cleared her throat firmly, “What does your Mistress want?”

“Subjugation,” The drone responded, lightning fast.

Maria’s body shifted slightly, her entire body tensed reflexively. “Why are you here?”

“Delivery.” The drone said simply.

It’s hands snapped up. Anna gasped. Something slick and black and shiny slipped from the drone’s outstretched hands and fell softly to the ground.

“Hoods?” Maria hissed, realization striking her. “These are those fucking masks I saw!”

It was. Two of them, Anna noted, as she gently prodded the latex material with her toe. “For us.”

The drone nodded, but the movement was so stiff and robotic it could barely be identified as human at all. “Yes. Mistress instructed drone to deliver these Hoods. They are your Hoods.”

Maria stepped back, shaking her head. “Get out. Take ‘em with you.”

The drone shook it’s head. “Mistress instructed drone to remain here. Any attempt to dislodge drone will result in your pacification.”

“How dare she!” Anna hissed. Her hand tightened into a firm ball.

Maria cocked an inquisitive eyebrow, “So you have to stay here? You’ve been ordered to watch us?”

The drone nodded. “Yes.”

“Any room in particular?”

“Here will suffice. But this drone will go wherever it is instructed. Provided it is inside the walls of this building.”

“Of course it will,” Maria chuckled dryly under her breath. “Kitty! Take our guest downstairs to the basement.”

The drone turned to face the approaching maid. “Catherine Lusaka. My Mistress was very amused by your fate.”

“Like, what?” The Maid’s face scrunched up into a ball of confusion. Then she giggled. “I’m Kitty Kat, stupid!”

The drone remained silent as the bimbo gently took it’s latex coated hand and led it toward a door set in the right wall of the room. A light flickered dimly from inside.

The two brainwashed women, both wrapped in latex, descended the basement stairs together.

Anna glanced side-long at Maria as the slaves departed. “This is...”

“This is fucked,” Maria finished her sentence for her. “I say we take these things and burn them, then we wait for your friend to get here and we interrogate that drone, then we crush this bitch behind them.”

“Sarah,” Anna sighed.

“What?”

“Her name is Sarah,” the older woman explained, exhaustion creeping into her voice, “at least that’s what I knew her as.”

Maria shook her head slowly, “You’ve got a lot to explain, Anna.”

“I do,” Anna nodded, “And I will. But not until my friend and her team get here. Until then, we’ wait. And keep a close eye on our new guest.”

Maria’s lips thinned and she gave a grim nod, “Well, it’s a start. I’m going to see if I can contact Lisa. And I think we should start wondering about what exactly those hoods, and this drone, are supposed to mean.”

“Show of force,” Anna shrugged and a feint smile played across her lips, “And intent. It’s how we used to do it in the old days of the Society.”

Maria threw up her hands in defeat, “Whatever. I’m done. Give me a shout if you need me.”

She turned to head upstairs.

“Phone’s in Kitty’s room now, dear, remember?” Anna smiled softly, “We agreed she should take all calls.”

“Fuck’s sake,” Maria sighed as she turned back the other way.

* * *

“Soooooo, like,” Kitty paused at the bottom step and glanced up back at the silent drone, “Your Mistress sounds, well, totally super scary! What’s the deal?”

The drone remained completely still, “This drone’s Mistress is a perfect expression of the matriarchal concept.”

“Oh,” Was all Kitty could manage in response.

Chains rattled and clinked softly in the distance. Kitty flipped a switch on the wall and an overhead light turned on; bright and unyielding, in stark contrast to the flickering bulb that hung over the stairs. The room had clearly been a dungeon long before, but now it’s instruments of torture had been replaced, or in the case of the St. Andrew’s cross that sat against the wall, modified, to provide a more pleasant experience.

But only slightly.

Kitty giggled and clapped her hand over her mouth, “So, like, I’ve kind of got to lock you up while you’re down here...no biggie, right?”

The bimbo tittered once.

“It will not be an issue in a moment,” The drone said softly.

“Like, why’s that?” Kitty giggled and turned to face the latex creature.

It was holding a third Hood in it’s hands.

“Because this mask is yours.”

Kitty struggled. But not for long.

* * *

The plane bucked one final time before settling into a steady descent.

Jessica was in the midst of a particularly challenging game of scrabble with Evelyn, aka. Devil Doll, when Victoria’s voice crackled back over the pilot’s inter-com.

“Just got word from Matriarch, she’s on the ground with Allie and is taking her to our destination as we speak. We’ll be landing at an airstrip about half a mile away.”

Jessica gave a slight sigh of relief. Her suit glowed once in response.

Evelyn cocked an eyebrow, “So...”

“Yeah?”

“You know anything about where we’re going?” The young red-head asked.

Jessica shrugged, “Figure we’ll find out when we get there. Worried?”

“No. Course not. You?”

Jessica paused before answering, “...Nah. You know how it is.”

“Superheroes, right?” Evelyn smiled reassuringly. “We’ll be fine.”

“Yeah,” Jessica said slowly, nodding, “Yeah, of course.”

She glanced back down at the board, then the letters on her side. Her eyes twitched once as she shook her head. Was she going mad?

Or had the letters she was holding just said ‘SUBMIT’?

* * *

END CHAPTER TWO.