The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Maria stared at the shining livery that glowed dimly on the armor’s breastplate and slowly, cautiously, finally said something, “You’re a talking suit of armor.”

“Aye, thy powers of observation have struck squarely, to be sure, but perhaps the blindingly obvious should wait for a more relaxed time to rear its head!” The armor chorused back at her, bristling with barely restrained annoyance.

The voice was ethereal; wavering on the edge of being both a scream and a whisper at the same time, echoing across a distance that Maria knew, instinctively, could not merely be spatial.

“Okay,” Maria nodded slowly, still staring at the glowing breastplate, “Okay. Just, y’know, give me a second here.”

“Time is a more precious resource than you realize, young woman,” The breastplate sneered.

“Where are the others? Did you see them leave?” Maria paused, “Can you see?”

“More than you know,” The armor sounded annoyed again, but for a second, its voice wavered, became tinny and distant.

Maria gave a small, disgruntled sigh, “Did you see where they went?”

“They’ve passed beyond sight; even mine. I hear and see and feel further than one such as you and even bound as I am to my own blood; Jessica has still passed beyond my gaze.”

“Gone?” Maria slapped a hand against her fore-head and slumped against the wall of the plane, “I can’t believe this. Fuck!”

“Pick up the sword,” The armor whispered. “There isn’t much time.”

Maria shook her head and started tapping her fingers against the wrist-mounted computer she wore, “Allison? Allison! Anna?”

There was no response.

Something else began to glow at the corner of her vision; a long, double-edged blade that rested beside her feet.

“God-fucking-damnit!” Maria grunted and dashed her wrist against the wall. At the last second she pulled her arm back, enough to stop Allison’s computer from cracking against the wall, but not her wrist. Pain flared up her fore-arm. “Aaaagh!”

The armor sighed heavily. “Foolish girl. Pick. Up. The sword.”

Maria blinked, slid the back of her hand across her wet eyes and glared at the armor, “You’re crazy.”

“You, girl, are talking to a ghost in a suit of armor,” The armor chuckled. “Rise to the occasion.”

Maria shook her head, then stooped low and heaved the sword upward with all her strength. It didn’t budge. The grip was warm and soft to the touch; it seemed to fit her palm perfectly. She could feel the weight of the blade and it didn’t seem like much, but the sword simply wouldn’t move. “It won’t…Nnngh.”

The armor gave a worried sigh, “I thought as much. Jessica and I had been bonded directly for many days and many years, my power flowed through her as if we were one another’s extensions. Two souls in one body.”

Maria slipped away from the sword and tumbled backwards. Her head cracked off of a support rail and for a second her head reeled and stars swum across her vision. “Fuck!”

“A more direct joining will be required,” The armor said simply. “Put me on.”

Maria blinked, one hand cradling her wounded head, “You want me to what?”

“Quickly,” The armor hissed, “I will direct you, but we must hurry. I can already feel myself slipping; speaking in this vulgar, low tongue of your age is only the start, soon my powers will go, and then…”

Maria glanced worriedly down at the silent communicator on her wrist, “God, I hope I’m not crazy.”

“As do I, girl, as do I,” The armor retorted, bristling with an uneasy, sickly-green light, “Now hurry, I can feel something stirring; like a black star rising on the horizon. Thou path is clear.”

Conrad groaned and flinched away from the big-titted bimbo’s probing fingers once more. “Careful, bitch.”

Allison sighed and ground the iodine-daubed swab harder against the man’s bleeding forehead, “Shut up.”

He grinned, then swatted one heavy, jiggling tit with his hand, relishing the wavering, needy moan that slipped past the woman’s lips even as she pressed her thumb sharply against his head-wound.

“Stop doing that!” She squealed, stepping back gingerly, cupping one arm over the ruined, mangled remains of her t-shirt.

“But of course, dear,” Conrad chuckled, licking his lips.

Allison shook her head and stumbled backwards over a splintered, shattered patch of debris. It was a miracle no one had been hurt, she thought idly as she glanced about at the ruined, twisted husk of the once proud and tall mansion. Well, provided that was that wherever Anna had been taken she was unharmed.

Conrad seemed to read her mind, narrowing his eyes as he followed her gaze around the twisted wreckage and up into the still morning sky, “Wonder what it was?”

Allison jerked around, “It was the Matriarch.”

“Oh?” Conrad smiled wolfishly, “I recognize that name.”

“She’s been taken, twisted, but she’s still got her powers, like Evelyn…” Allison trailed off, then shivered as she glanced around, “Speaking of which, she’s still here somewhere, along with the other two. We need to get going…”

Conrad folded his arms across his chest, “There is no ‘we’, doll. There is me, and then there is you.”

Allison shook her head and tapped a finger against her communicator/computer. It sparked and hissed with a whining charge, then failed to boot up for the third time in the past five minutes. “Damn.”

Conrad extended his hand, “Give it here.”

Allison shook her head and reflexively jerked her wrist away with a snort, “I don’t think banging it with a rock is going to help.”

Conrad’s lip twitched; once, then twice and then settled into a small, thin smile, “That design was stolen from a rival company by Catherine Lusaka over a year ago; I once had access to her files and trust me, I noted anything that might be useful; and any improvements I would have made. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to act on those improvements before I was…”

“…detained?” Allison laughed softly.

“Quite,” Conrad’s smile fell and the tips of his ears began to burn red with embarrassment. He ignored the sensation and waved his fingers inwardly, “Now give it here. Otherwise how will we contact Maria and save the day? That is your plan, yes?”

Allison nodded slowly, “Yeah, how’d you know that? And why the change of heart?”

Conrad snorted, “Maria is Anna’s favorite little slut for dirty work, I’d be surprised if she’s ever around to attend to Anna’s…needs. Besides, this is my city this bitch is ruining too.”

Allison shook her head, then shrugged, “Alright, look, I don’t necessarily need to contact Maria, I just need to get it functioning again; the code containing the frequency to disrupt the nanites Masque is using was already wirelessly updated to Maria’s terminal earlier; I just need to get it running so that if she…”

“Fails,” Conrad smirked.

“…yes, fails, we’ll still have a shot,” Allison let out a long, shaky breath then stepped forward, shrugging her shoulders and holding out her wrist to him.

Conrad leaned forward, eyes narrowing, “Hmmm. Yes.”

“So?” Allison said, shakily, “What’s the issue?”

Conrad grunted, then pried the holographic emitting screen off of the front of the device with a twist of his hand, “Ah, there we go!”

“What do you think you’re doing!?” Allison squeaked, jerking her wrist back. Conrad caught it in his hand and wrenched her forward. She tripped, flailing, and landed over his lap with a squeal.

He laughed, a short, dark, barking sound, “Shut up, will you?”

“Ungh!” Allison squealed and jerked, her tits brushed heavily against his knees and she suppressed a sharp, giggly moan, “Suh-stop!”

Conrad shook his head, his fingers worked intently at the device for a moment, then he dumped the woman at his feet, “Done. Fixed.”

Allison rubbed her ass for a moment, then scooted backwards and glanced at the device, “It’s in pieces!”

Conrad sighed, then shrugged, “It was the only way to get the power flowing to the communicator again, now call Maria and…”

“You’ve gutted the dampening systems! The projection systems! Most of the electrics! It won’t disrupt a damn thing now!” Allison shook her head, glaring at the man.

Conrad gave a slight, annoyed tut, “Don’t be stupid, you be-titted bimbo; a malnutrition suffering man whose been in chains for months and a woman who has been through so much erogenous alterations that she can barely walk without cumming her brains out aren’t going to be able to stop this bitch. Maria’s our only shot.”

Allison blinked, “You’re sure?”

Conrad smiled grimly, “Oh yes. She’s very good at this sort of thing, I’m afraid. Now, call her and tell her everything you know about what’s going on and what she needs to do, understand?”

“I…” Allison began slowly, blinking hard.

“Do not mention me, is that clear?” Conrad raised one steady finger warningly. Allison shivered.

“Okay.”

Conrad smiled, then rolled his shoulders backwards and yawned, “Good, I’ll be back in a moment.”

The man turned and then began trudging his way through the broken wreckage, stepping gingerly over the glass and wood and picking his way through the shattered house.

Allison watched him for a moment, warily, then turned away and began fidgeting with the communicator.

Anna shuddered as the drone pressed it’s heavy, round, cool tits into her face and reached around her back to connect her cuffed wrists to the railing of the building.

She’d been here once before; the rooftop observation deck of the Lusaka building. Ten years. Ten years since her, Conrad, Catherine and Eliza had shared drinks and toasted the future.

Ten? She thought drowsily as the drone retreated; it’s collar glowed dimly with the name branded there in delicate lettering; ‘vicki’. Anna shuddered again. Twelve years. Definitely twelve years, she corrected herself.

A cold hand slid around the back of her neck and stroked her cheek gently, “My, my, my.”

“Masque,” Anna said curtly, her eyes staring straight ahead as the slender woman stepped around from her right and positioned herself directly in front of Anna’s gaze.

The roof felt cold and hard beneath her knees. A razor-thin wisp of red hair clung to her right eyebrow. She shifted slightly, tried to move away from Masque’s latex-wrapped legs, and grunted as her spine hit the railing of the roof.

“Now, now,” Masque chuckled, then leaned in closed and glanced over Anna’s shoulder; at the straight, sheer drop on the other side, “You can’t fly can you? Not like my friend…”

Masque trailed off, glancing over towards the statuesque drone that had dropped Anna’s unconscious form off on the roof less than an hour ago.

The cape was gone, Anna thought dimly as she followed Masque’s gaze, but the pose was mostly the same. “Lucia…”

“Mmmm,” Masque giggled, “Isn’t it wonderful?”

Anna’s lips tightened, then she relaxed slightly and shook her head, “You stupid, stupid girl.”

Masque blinked, then snarled as her face tightened, “You bitch!” She hissed, driving her heel into Anna’s stomach.

Anna grunted, then laughed through the pain, “You utter fool.”

She gasped, her teeth chattering together, hard, as Masque wrenched her head upward by her hair. “Does that look like something to laugh at to you!?”

Something shivered behind her; and all of a sudden Anna’s stomach turned cold and did a back-flip, “Oh, god.”

It was a monolith of living latex; a frame-work of metal poles and radar dishes that stretched ever upwards from the centre of the roof; but atop the poles was a shivering, quaking mass of living latex. A slick, silent orgy of one singular purpose.

A grinding, quaking, squeaking pillar of obedience.

“That’s the beauty, you see,” Masque giggled mischievously, “A living lightning rod of energy. The nano-wiring of the drones will focus the broadcast from the radar tower and bounce the frequency of the nanites off of every satellite up there. In hours, every nanite-based technology around the world will be under my control. In days, every missile possible will be weapon-ized with the latex and fired into the atmosphere.”

Anna gasped.

Masque smiled, “Complete saturation within a month.”

“But,” Anna shook her head, “That’s madness, I thought you just wanted Lucia!”

Masque’s smile widened, “Oh, of course! At first, not every counter-measure will be under my control; some archaic, outdated tech will still be operational. Lucia will be able to stop them, however. The greatest hero ever and the greatest weapon, all in one tidy package. After all, revenge is a dish best served cold; and with purpose.”

The drones shivered and quaked and slid together; coupling inside the living tower and breaking off and sticking to one another like a writhing colony. ‘vicki’ shuffled forward and reached upward into the tower. Six grasping hands reached out and pulled her up into the throbbing mass of drones.

“You’re insane,” Anna spat, curling her fingers feebly into balled fists.

“Oh, Anna, can’t you appreciate this all?” Masque shook her head, “I suppose not. You have no idea how hard it was to program the hoods so specifically that they’d function as I needed them to; the loopholes and back-doors and flaws I had to program into them to get this result; a perfect, super-powered drone; to fix the woman who ruined my life.”

Anna gulped, “You crazy bitch.”

Masque glanced at her; the crazed smile on her face fading slowly, “Hmm. You’re boring me, Anna. Maybe I should fix you, too? Hmmm?”

Anna shivered, then closed her eyes and uttered a quick, silent prayer.

Maria took one shaky, unsteady step forward and then uttered a short, relieved breath of air.

“You’re doing well,” The armor reassured her as she took another shaky step. It glowed brighter with each foot-fall and with every step her grip on the sword-hilt seemed to tighten and become stronger, firmer, more assured of it’s place.

The tip of the sword sparked and hissed as she dragged it down the metal rampart.

“Lift the blade,” The armor directed her.

“It’s too heavy,” Maria gave a grunt of exertion, then heft the blade up and onto her shoulder. She staggered.

“Everything in moderation, child,” The armor sang softly.

She was right, Maria realized, it was becoming easier, lighter. Stronger. Faster. She could feel the tendrils of the presence within the armor pushing against her, testing her defenses.

“You’re trained well against intrusion,” The armor noted quietly, “But for this to work, we need to be one. You need to allow me in.”

Maria tensed, the sword slipped an inch, her armored fingers clenched weakly around the pommel of the sword as her grip faltered, “Let you in?”

“Yes,” The specter hissed, “Let me in.”

Maria paused, the loose ground of the floor beneath the rampart shifted under her heavy footfalls as she took her first, slow armored steps out into the world proper.

“I…” Something seized her then; a quick, cold, sharp tendril of energy that curled around her throat and gripped her tightly, squeezing the protest from her lips, “Unngh!”

Maria gave a single, wailing shout that echoed inside her own head but fell short of passing from her lips as the presence gripped her tightly and wrenched her backwards. For a second she was afraid she’d fall. Then, as she stared out through a glassy, opaque veneer of two, dull eyes she realized the much more sinister truth. She was trapped.

A passenger in her own body; a numb, still silent spectator as her body jerked suddenly forward, under the control of someone else.

“Silence!” The specter grunted in Maria’s voice; her lips twisting and jerking and flexing robotically as the ghost tried to puppet her body. “I’m sorry, I understand that this is not pleasant for you, but the sensation will only last a moment. You must be still.”

Maria screamed soundlessly. Fear filtered through her, but without the usual icy cold grip of panic. Just a simple, sudden understanding; this thing was trying to steal her body.

The specter pulled her armored hands upward; holding the sword aloft with ease. It’s blade glowed a searing, bright white. “Please, be still! Successfully ingratiating with a host takes months of practice; I’ve been forced to do something I swore never to, take another’s body without their consent. I do not do so lightly, it’s a measure I only undertake to protect you from the shock of the binding, and to carry us to our objective with haste. I can send us there, through the sword’s power, but only if you remain-“

Maria screamed again, louder this time. The wall between her and her body shattered like glass. Something warm and round flowed against her like water as she surged forward and suddenly felt her own hand inside the gloves; gripping the sword, holding it aloft.

Memories flooded into her like flashes of light, reflected in the glow of the blade. France. Armies of marching men in armor. A young girl carrying a sword. The feel of a steed beneath her, charging the enemies lines. Blood. Steel. Darkness.

Then, as Maria and the specter screamed and echoed; trapped within one another, the sword exploded with a sudden burst of light and whisked them both away.

Masque giggled and tugged harder on the drone’s smooth, round skull, mashing its eager, sticky lips against her cunt with a single, forceful push.

“Good drone,” Masque cooed, “Good lucia.”

The drone shivered as thick, ropey strands of latex-cum dribbled down it’s chin and splattered against its shining, silver collar; ‘luci’ it read, in large, bold letters.

Anna grunted and turned her face away, repulsed.

“She has memories, you see,” Masque explained, never taking her eyes off the drone lapping at her pussy, “Images that bounce back down our little shared connection; I can see everything they can, but with her it’s different. Sometimes she remembers putting on a cape, but mostly she just remembers submitting as I put her in a hood.” Masque chuckled evilly and shot Anna a knowing look, “Precious, really; sometimes she actually thinks she’s still a person.”

She patted the luci-drone’s head and ground her pussy harder against the drone’s dripping lips.

“Mmmrghphhh!” luci-drone murmured slackly.

Masque breathed out softly, shallowly, her breasts rising softly in temp with each gasp, “Mmmm, I think I’ll have that little dyke of yours hood you, Anna, after I run her down. What’s her name? Marla?”

Anna simply glowered in response and shifted uneasily against the railing.

She could smell the wet dew on the morning grass. Her nostrils flared slowly, letting the smell creeping up her nose be replaced by something else, something far more sinister; the acrid taste of burning metal.

“Unnnghhh,” She groaned and tried to roll over onto her back; the suit of armor wrapped around her form clanked and grunted, but didn’t budge.

“Foolish girl,” A voice snarled in her ears.

“What…?” She murmured dazedly into the ground. Her lips grazed slackly against the wet grass below her, “What is going on?”

“Look around you, girl!” The voice snarled again, “Look what your insolence has wrought, Maria!”

She groaned and craned her neck upward. Blue skies stretched as far as the eye could see, but on the horizon the sky was tainted by a thick streak of black smoke stretching upward.

“What is that? Where are we?” Maria groaned and clamped one armored hand to the side of her head.

“This is France,” the armor explained simply, a bitter edge to its ghostly voice, “This is the burning of the Chateau Duchamp. The first shot in a long, vicious war.”

“But,” Maria blinked hard, “We’re not in France, we’re…”

“…France. Many years before your time; when I still walked the earth as flesh. Aye, ‘tis a long way from home from here,” the voice explained in a hushed, reverent tone.

Maria blinked, then gently, softly, pushed herself up to a kneeling position. Something thundered and crashed like a rising wave and she yanked her head around fast, her hand instinctively finding the hilt of the sword and wrenching it upward from the grass as she turned.

Six riders came crashing towards her through the muddied, wet grass. Six women, wearing glorious suits of gold, atop white steeds with flowing manes.

“Prepare yourself, girl,” The armor hissed.

“What do you mean?” Maria asked, desperately, sword-arm wavering as two of the riders peeled off from the column and began riding hard toward her.

One of the riders flipped up the golden visor of her helm to reveal a slender, pale face anointed with a black, star-shaped tattoo across her right eye.

The lady-knight smiled down at Maria, bemused, “Slave, where did you acquire that armor?”

“What?” Maria grunted, blinking hard, her head still rung with the sound of bells.

The second rider snarled from beneath her visor and snapped her arm forward; a coil of darkness shot out from her gauntlet and wrapped itself tightly around Maria’s throat. She gasped for air and collapsed forward onto all fours as the woman on the horse tugged the shadow-whip.

“Unnnghh!” Maria grunted, her eyes flexing as she glanced desperately around, “Gho-oooost! Ghoooost!”

The woman on the right laughed cruelly and let her lips twist upwards into a thin, cruel smile, “What’s she saying, Sergeant?”

“’Ghost’, I believe, ma’am,” The second snorted, then gave the shining, hollow shaft of the darkness-whip another tug. “Not too bright, I suppose, must be an Englishwoman.”

Maria whimpered as the whip began to burn against her neck, the black-shade twisting and flexing and then becoming a glowing, dazzling purple coil. Her eyes softened, then went glassy as she stared straight into the twinkling coil.

“Ahhh, there we go,” The first woman chuckled, “They all fall to either the whip or the sword in the end.”

“More the whip, though, ma’am,” The second rider smiled as the other four passed them, riding hard towards the smoke on the horizon.

“Maria!” A faint whisper, a faraway wailing sound that echoed inside her skull.

For a second she thought it was the whip, the glorious, beautiful whip that seemed to glow with such an entrancing, wonderful light. That seemed to glow just for her; just right against her neck.

“Yessss,” She gasped, a moan rising in her throat. Her throat was burning; but it was a good burn. An obedient burn. A burn that marked her as a slave. A burn that stoked the flame stirring in her pussy and started to melt her juices and let them dribble down the inside of her armor-plated legs.

“Well now, that’s much better, slave,” The woman on the right chuckled.

“Listen to me, Maria, trust me, trust in thy arm, and thy spirit,” the disembodied voice whispered to her.

She could barely hear it over the moan she let shake and rattle back up the length of the whip. The woman holding it shook slightly, a look of concentration on her face, “She’s strong…”

“She’s a slave,” The other woman snorted.

“No,” The whip-holder gasped, “There’s…something…”

“Maria! Now!” The voice whispered.

Maria obeyed. The sword sung and whistled as it sliced through the air; glowing white-gold as it sliced straight through the whip.

“Focus!” The voice wailed.

She spun, rising to her feet and pointed the point of the blade at the knights. A cone of light sprung forth and sent the women flying from their steeds. They collapsed in a golden heap at the feet of the horses, groaning and whimpering as the severed whip snapped back toward them.

“Well done, Maria,” The voice whispered softly.

“That was…” Maria breathed out shallowly, gasping hard as she rubbed a gloved hand against her neck. “…intense.”

The ghostly-voice chuckled warmly, “It always is. That is the power of my blood-line, passed down from generation to generation. It awoke centuries before even this, but this day was the first I used it. To fight these…women.”

“Who are they?” Maria croaked, stumbling to her feet. The armor felt lighter now, somehow, easier to move in.

“Templars of the order Supplicant,” The voice said mournfully, “Slavers. I spent most of my life fighting them. Then, when I passed, my spirit inhabited the armor as my ancestors had, and was entombed until it was needed again; by Jessica.”

Maria shook her head, “This is crazy. It’s…so much to take in. How did we…?”

“Get here?” The voice asked, a mocking edge to its voice. “I tried to assume control of your…symbiotic relationship. To use the sword to send us here we were need; you fought the connection and we were dispatched here.”

“To a completely different time?” Maria groaned, slapping a hand against her forehead.

“Yes, not a power that was known to my understanding of the sword, but here we are,” The armor shrugged, and Maria felt her shoulders and arms rise with the metal. “We must return.”

“You can send us back?” Maria asked, eyes wide.

“Yes, but I’ll need to take control again, and I’ll need you to cease resisting; this mask you wear, this anger, it’s does neither of us good, Maria.”

Maria snorted, then shook her head, “Great, now I’m being psych evaluated by a ghost. This has been one really fucked up day.”

“Verily,” The ghost replied dimly.

“Well, if you’re going to take control of my mind and body I guess we should do it properly, right? Maria Rodriguez,” Maria grunted, extending her hand outward into the thin air, ready for a hand-shake.

“Angelique DuPont,” The specter replied warmly. Energy coursed through the armor and caused Maria’s hand to shake. “Do you trust me, Maria?”

“Yes,” She replied, shakily, but surely.

“Then I must ask you to pledge yourself; when this is done, find Jessica DuPont and return the sword and armor. Please.”

Maria gulped, trembling slightly, “I will, Angelique, but first…”

“Of course,” The ghostly woman replied, “Prepare yourself.”

Maria took in a heavy breath of air, then lent backwards and closed her eyes. “Godspeed.”

“Aye,” Angelique whispered, through Maria’s lips.

Everything went numb, a white-light shone through her eyelids and her stomach twisted into knots as they disappeared once again.

“Maria!” Allison grunted and slammed her hand against the dying wrist-computer one final time, “Maria!”

“Not getting her?” Conrad’s voice came from behind her, impatiently.

“No, it’s like she’s just vanished, I can’t even connect to her computer,” Allison gave a despondent, final sigh and let her wrist drop.

“Allison?” The computer crackled faintly.

She wrenched her wrist back upwards triumphantly, “Maria, is that you?”

“Yes, yes, it’s me, I was…indisposed.”

“God, I hope it was worth it, did you find the others?” Allison breathed hard, relief causing her body to tremble.

“No, but I found something else, Jessica’s…ancestor,” Maria’s voice came back across the transfer, weakly, “She can help.”

Allison blinked hard and stopped the tears forming at the corners of her eyes, “I hope so, Maria, we’re going to need all the help we can get; I think it’s Lucia, I think Masque turned her into a…thing. She took Anna and wrecked the mansion. I’m so sorry, Maria.”

The line fell silent for a moment, “This readout on this little gadget? The Lusaka building?”

“Yes,” Allison breathed quickly, quietly, “Don’t lose that computer, it can stop the nanites, you just need to get close enough to touch Masque, and it’ll do the rest.”

“Easier said than done,” Maria sighed, “We’re running out of time; meet me at the building as soon as you can. It’s time to end this.”

“Alright,” Allison breathed hard, and allowed herself a moment of quiet hope, “I think Conrad should know the way.”

The computer on her wrist crackled again, “Warning. Low Battery.”

“Wha-“ Maria’s voice splintered and fractured, “Di- -ou say Conr-? He can’t be trust-“

The line went dead as the computer powered down for the last time.

“She’s right,” Conrad murmured.

Allison nodded resolutely, “Yeah, we haven’t got much time.”

“No,” Conrad snorted as he wrapped one powerful, wiry arm around her throat and puller her tight against him, “The other thing.”

Allison gurgled out a weak cry of protest as something tight and round was slipped down over her head and pressed hard against her open eyes.

There was a low hum, like a computer powering up and then a flash of white-hot pink light filled her vision.

“Sorry, bimbo,” Conrad whispered into her ear, “But a man just can’t help himself sometimes.”

Her only response was a strangled, whimpered moan.

“Lucia!” Anna hissed, desperately, twisting her wrists hard in the metal bindings, “Lucia!”

The drone had stopped servicing Masque what seemed like hours ago, but the black gunk still dripped steadily down its shining chin.

“Lucia, it’s me, Anna, remember!” She hissed again, then fell silent and turned away from the glistening drone-statute that her friend had become.

Masque quaked and shivered just out of her eye-sight, then turned and glared at the kneeling, cuffed woman, “What was that?”

Anna glanced at her, side-long, a wisp of a smile appearing on her face, “What was what?”

“What did you say to her?” Masque asked, her eyes narrowing into a furious glare.

“’it’ I’m sure you mean, right?” Anna quivered, slightly under the glare, terrified, but determined.

Masque nodded, shakily, “Right.”

Anna smiled as the crazed woman turned away. A link. Connected to all of her drones.

“Interesting,” She chuckled as she glanced between ‘luci’ and Masque.

“Hello, Maria,” Conrad smiled as he stepped out of the darkness.

The woman whirled around, the point of her sword finding his throat in seconds and pressing hard against it, drawing blood. Her armor clanked and glowed as she shifted her weight to press him back, “Where is Allison?”

“Indisposed,” Conrad shrugged, then glanced up over her shoulder at the building that towered above them, “Seems so long ago we were here together last, doesn’t it?”

“Shut up,” Maria snarled and pressed the tip of the blade harder against his throat.

“Now, now,” Conrad raised his hands in surrender, “Let’s try and stay focused here, Maria.”

“…he’s right, Maria,” Angelique’s shaky, wailing voice whispered from the glowing breastplate. “Remember, your anger…”

Maria sighed, then pulled the blade-point away slightly, “When we’re done here…”

“…yes, yes,” Conrad’s smile faded as he remembered the bowl he’d been forced to eat from, “Every dog has it’s day, yes?”

The inside of the building was coated with latex. A shimmering, glistening wallpaper that pulsed and sucked like a contracting, spasming muscle.

Conrad sniffed at the air, “I preferred my decoration, definitely.”

“Shut up,” Maria retorted simply, holding the sword aloft. It shone dully and lit the way for them, guiding them, carefully, to the stairs. Maria mounted the first step, then paused and turned to stab the point of the blade at the air between her and Conrad, “You first.”

The man sighed, then shrugged his shoulders and began to climb the steps.

“Lucia, please, think,” Anna pleaded, desperately, quietly, “You have to remember me; Anna, your friend!”

The drone quaked, shivered slightly, then straightened itself; stood taller than it had before.

Out of the corner of Anna’s eye she spied Madam Masque, standing by the towering construct of drones, directing them, making the final preparations as she ushered them to and fro.

Then, she stumbled, snapping a gloved hand to her head as she gripped one slick, drone-covered strut of the tower for support.

Anna looked away and fell silent as the woman glared back over to her.

Masque stifled a groan and tried to compose herself. The memory had felt so real this time, so sharp. Anna’s hand slipping between her/Lucia’s thighs and delving into her pussy, stroking against Lucia/her’s pussy lips as she moaned and shrieked in pleasure.

She shuddered. Something else howled across the connection she shared with her drones; something else burned itself into her brain. But this image simply left her cold.

There was a man and a woman on the stairs. Time was running out.

Initialize, she thought blankly, sullenly. Her drones scurried to obey as the drone-tower began to crackle with energy.

Then, finally, she turned back to her pride and joy; “Lucia,” She said simply, deciding to stick with oral commands for the time being, the link was fraught and weak; something that Anna bitch had done, no mind, it was all almost over. She jerked her head to the cuffed, kneeling woman and smiled as her drone stiffened atop her arched, black heels, “Kill her.”

Anna gasped out a low, short, “No! Lucia!”

Lucia, or what had once been Lucia, rose stiffly into the air, her hands creaked and squeaked as they balled up into tight, closed fists. She reared up, then spun through the air towards Anna’s trapped form.

Anna closed her eyes tightly and turned away; catching a small, quick glimpse of Madam Masque recoiling as she clamped her hand to her head once again.

Maria’s foot slammed into the rooftop entrance door as she heard the scream. Her armor glowed a bright blue as the door snapped off it’s hinges and bounced away across the rooftop. “Anna!” She shrieked.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion. Her heart caught in her chest. The lucia-drone spun through the air towards her trapped love at blistering speeds. The air howled past her as the super-drone sliced downwards through the air with enough force to split concrete.

Then, at the last second, the drone clamped a hand to it’s head and spun further downward; smashing downwards through the rooftop in an explosive hail of stone and rubble.

Anna shrieked as the railing gave way, peeling away from the destroyed block of ceiling and dragging her out over the lip of the roof. Her body twisted, hung in the air for a moment, then crashed against the split railing.

“Anna!” Maria shrieked, her voice wavering. Too stunned to move, too stunned to act.

Conrad slipped past her and sprinted the short distance between them and Anna, leaping across the splintered, gaping hole in the roof as Anna’s cuff snapped against the railing, sending her twisting and rolling over the metal frame to the other side; and the sheer drop to the streets far below.

“Get the bitch!” Conrad grunted, then hurled himself over the side, his muscles straining as he crashed into the railing, swinging it further out, the metal strained and shrieked as it twisted away from the building.

Maria gulped down the panicked breath rising in her throat. Her eyes whirled around, dazed, and finally found their target.

She felt Angelique give a weak, trembling sigh as the light on the armor’s surface dimmed.

“Are you okay?” Maria gasped, breathless, forcing herself to run, sword raised, across the ruined roof, at the woman by the tower of writhing, slithering latex.

“I’m slipping, Maria, I…” Angelique trembled, then sighed, “It’s been too long without Jessica; the ether calls to me.”

“Hold on!” Maria grunted, the tower quaked; two drones slipped free of the writhing mass and fell between her and Masque. She swatted one aside with a backhand that trailed blue energy and sent the drone hurtling toward the rooftop edge. The other she simply punched directly in the face; the cross-guard of the sword cracked against it’s leering, empty, featureless visage and snapped it backwards; sending it tumbling head over heels.

Masque raised one single, trembling hand, Maria reached for her, her heart pounding in her ears.

“Maria!” Angelique screamed, once, and then she was gone. A final, twitch of purpose sent her sword-arm twisting to the right. Something came howling down through the air toward her. Masque slipped away from her grasping fingers, even as the wrist-mounted computer whined and emitted a low beep.

Whatever had stopped the drone from killing Anna seemed to have fled. It’s arms were outstretched in front of it; two balled fists directed at her head. Without Angelique’s strength, the weight of the armor sagged against her. She let herself fall, thudding against the ground hard; the breast-plate knocked the wind from her even as she forced herself to roll over, tracking the flying super-drone with her sword-arm.

Focus, Angelique had told her.

She’d done it a hundred times, emptied her mind, acted without thought or purpose or reason. In the end, it was easy, she told herself. She forgot about Masque, about the end of the world, about Allison, about Conrad. For a moment, just a moment, she even forgot about Anna.

The sword bucked in her grip and blasted a thin beam of white-light at the lucia-drone.

The super-drone spun with the force of the blast; it hit her square in the shoulder and she spun out of control like a struck fighter-jet, disappearing under the lip of the rooftop and crashing into the building’s wall. The whole roof quaked with the force of it.

The tower quivered like some horrific, extra-dimensional set of slick, latex pussy lips and then crashed downwards; a melee of writhing bodies split away and left the structure hanging. The horde of latex drones splattered down against the rooftop with a wet plop.

“Masque!” Maria grunted, whirling about on one knee even as the weight of the armor pulled her downward. The sword’s glow was fading, dimming, and she was struggling to keep it aloft. “Where are you!?”

“Here, bitch!” The woman hissed from behind her. Maria turned, her sword-tip dragging against the ground, kicking up sparks.

The woman was holding a hood in one clenched hand, the other was reaching for Maria’s throat.

Conrad grunted, his arm straining, his muscles seizing and bulging as he hefted Anna up by her wrist and guided her to the sagging metal rail, “Hurry!”

Anna gave a small, quiet whisper of thanks and clambered eagerly back up the rail toward the rooftop. She leapt, propelling herself towards the solid concrete ground and gripped onto the shattered edge with her fingers, hauling herself up and giving a long, low sigh of relief.

“Maria!” She shrieked, her eyes popping wide open as she saw her love; trapped beneath Masque and the sagging weight of her armor. “Hold on!”

Maria was straining now, screaming out in anger and frustration as she grappled with Masque; their hands intertwined; one set forcing the hood down toward Maria’s scalp, the other pushing back up, attempting to force the hood backwards as she reached for the wrist-mounted computer and it’s glowing touch-screen.

‘Pulse? Yes/No’ glowed back at her. Anna heaved herself up onto the roof, breathed out hard and brushed the sweat from her eyes and then raced towards the struggling women.

“Guuhh!” Maria cried out, straining hard.

Masque’s hand closed around her throat and begun squeezing the air from her.

“Stop!” Maria grunted, wheezing hard, her arms slackening as the hood pressed down toward her. “Stop!”

She felt a cool, sticky tendril of latex slap against her straining, sweating forehead and screamed as the area went numb. Her mind slowed, her pulse quickened. “Uugghh,” She slurred between numb lips as she blinked hard.

Mistress was-

Something reared up behind Mistress; something tall and red-haired and beautiful, something carrying a sword and hefting it high.

Anna screamed with exertion and brought the sword down hard. The round, dull, shining pommel of the blade cracked against Masque’s skull and she gave a short, stumped groan as she fell to the side, rolling off of Maria. The slick tendril of latex peeled away with her.

Maria gasped. Blinked hard, then growled as she rolled on top of the stunned woman and pressed her hand down hard on her pale face, “Got you, bitch!”

She slapped her palm against the wrist-mounted computer and gave a low, throaty growl as the computer beeped once, then spasmed with electricity.

Masque jerked upwards, eyes wide, then shrieked as she rocked and rolled; her hips rising and bucking Maria off as she came, wailing in a pitiful, screamed orgasm as she finally fell limp against the roof’s floor. Unconscious.

Maria breathed out hard and raised a single, trembling hand to Anna as the drones around them stopped writhing and crackled with a short, stout electrical burst before collapsing into unconsciousness as well. “Anna…?”

Anna gulped hard, letting the sword-point fall and press against the ground, “Oh, Maria, I…”

“Oh, baby,” Maria breathed, “Shut up for a second and lie down, will you?”

Anna laughed, a short, crazed, relieved laugh that tore itself from her throat.

The tower crackled once, then twice, then shone with energy as it discharged; a shocking, bright bolt of power that lanced straight nor the nearest lightning rod.

Anna shrieked as the sword-point sought the energy out, reaching high up into the air and shuddering in her grasp, bucking against her palm as it glowed a bright blue, “Maria!”

“Shit!” Maria grunted, propelling herself forward, tackling Anna out of the way even as her hand grasped for the sword and snatched it from her lover’s fingers.

The sword pulsed. Once. Twice. The energy crackled from its tip and scarred a deep, black burn into the rooftop.

“It shouldn’t be doing this!” Anna gasped.

“How the fuck should I know!?” Maria shouted over the din, “Get back!”

Maria gasped, her eyes wide, an image flashed through her head; a river. A babbling brook. She thought of the riders in gold, she thought of the burning chateau. She thought of Anna, and of Conrad, and then the sword exploded with light and she felt her guts twist inside and out as she was enveloped in a shining, white light.

Anna blinked hard, then let her hand fall from where it was covering her eyes. A moan drew her gaze. Madam Masque was stirring awake, slowly.

Beside her, next to a deep, black burn in the ground, was Maria’s sword and the glowing, cracked wrist-computer she’d wore.

Anna placed a single, shaking hand to her mouth and fell to her knees with a sob.