The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Authors Note :

I realise this has been a long break between chapters, and for that I apologise. I never meant to leave my readers hanging after such an ending as chapter 6, but so many things intervened, and I found myself museless and occupied elsewhere. To those who have stuck it out, thank you, and I am sorry. Thanks in particular go out to Madam Kistulot, as always for reminding me that I have to write to have anything written, for Sara Castle, for more than I could mention, and for the other garden members who have encouraged me in some way over my sabbatical.

cheers
—LRP

And, as always, this story is mine, so don’t steal it, and if you shouldn’t be reading these stories, you shouldn’t be reading these stories.

UNFETTERED: CHAPTER 7: RE-INITIALISATION

The lash descends again, falling upon my back with a wet slap that drives all noise from my head. I’ve no desire to count, my desire is much much too busy elsewhere. The line of its touch swelling with heat and pain, my buttocks clench, and eyes closed, I await the next strike.

Just as the warmth of the last strike begins to fade, another follows it and I once again feel the flames of desire licking at my cleft. Another caress, another moan. My hands long to grip and fondle my flesh, but bound above me in cold black chains, I am denied. I buck my hips, desperately trying to entice the silent myrmidons I know are observing my ongoing degradation. And as always, it fails.

I force my eyes open, pleading with needful eyes into the faceless visage of my tormentors. All about me hundreds of these dark doppelgangers watch with eyeless faces. I am sure they are enjoying this, how could they not. My desperate slutty self thrusting at them wantonly, unable to cum and needing to beyond reason. Each ones head is turned to face me, their body, their shape, stolen from my own. Each creature here is me, faceless and formed from the glistening black that pools beneath me.

The head myrmidon remains unseen behind me, operating her whip with cunning skill that drives me to despair. I cannot see her, but I know what she looks like, she looks exactly the same as all the others. Her whip flickering into me once again and causing me to thrash once more against my bonds, as more black lines melt from my back, mingle with my lustful juices, and fall to the ground beneath me. Eventually, enough will have collected, and another myrmidon will be formed to join the others. And yet, I can never cum.

They won’t let me. No matter how much I beg, no matter how badly I need to. They seem to feed upon my unfulfilled needs. I am trapped by them, knowing that at their whim, I could finally reach that blessed orgasm I so desperately seek, knowing their cruelty will not end, that they will not grant me that release. But hoping anyway.

My thoughts are sluggish, and each flick drives them from my mind until they gradually return, only to be driven away as the lash falls once again. How long I have been there, how long it takes for me to form this thought is unknown, unimportant. Time has lost all meaning, all that matters, is release. Sweet. Unattainable. Release.

* * *

The room was brightly lit, diffused panels glow with a clean white light. The walls were unadorned white, the only objects in the room, a bed and a series of machines. On the bed, a woman lay twitching, strapped tightly by strips of white plastic clinging tightly to her curvaceous frame. The pronounced bumps of her nipples and the exquisite camel toed crease of her groin left nothing to the imagination. The quiet whimpering and sweaty writhing only heightening the sense of futile arousal. The woman’s eyes were closed, and from her head countless wires and cables protruded where hair should normally have been. Many of these cables were plugged into the machines scattered about her, and monitored by the other occupant of the room.

The other woman was clothed in a suit of high tech design that covered significantly more than the white straps do, but still concealed very little. She was focused intently at a small display upon one of the metal boxes, ignoring the erotic display happening beside her. She frowned as the display flashed a quick message, and typed something more on a rolled out flexible keyboard resting upon another case.

Moments later the door opened, and another woman, with deep red hair entered. This woman wore the same outfit as the other, although with a flowing tabard over the top. On the bottom of the tabard was a sewn circle split by four triangles. The woman approached the computer and rests her hand upon the other’s shoulder.

“What is her status?” She asked, concern playing across her face as she does.

“The same. She’s been like that since she was brought in, and nothing I do can breach the lockouts she has installed. She’s sealed herself in, and it’s as though she is actively fighting the intrusions.” the brunette at the keyboard replies

“That is a good sign isn’t it? It means she’s still in there somewhere. And Jen, if she is, you can get her out.”

“Perhaps,” Jennifer conceded, “but it’s harder than before, and every barrier I crack she just has another behind it.”

“Don’t give up on her,” Grace said as she turned to leave, “The Goddess hasn’t.”

* * *

Lust, oil, blackness, sweat, coating me, inside and out. Overriding slickness, slippery boiling need. That is all I am, bound melting suppleness. One of the faceless massed myrmidons strokes my leg, black fingernails teasingly close to my slit, but never close enough. I wait till it strays close, then suddenly arch towards its touch, feral need lending me speed. But sensing my plan, it pulls away at the last moment. Behind its blank black face, I am sure it is laughing, its cruel mockery still running like lightning across my body. It is moments before I realise that the chains which bind me have slipped a little. Not a lot, but perhaps enough to work my hand free, free to plunge into my slit and free me from my overwhelming need to cum.

Another lash and the idea abandons me for a moment of fiery ecstasy, but it returns, and I wriggle a little further. Little by little, my writhing moaning form feels those hard metal chains slipping. Greased by my lust and exertion, I pull my hand free. At that exact moment, the myrmidons all give the sense of a glare, and lunge at me. Knowing that they will bind me up once more, I forsake my drooling maidenhood in favour of hasty escape. If I can pull free just long enough to cum it will all be ok.

The myrmidons move as one, grappling at me with touches that play over my sensitive skin like brushfire. My instinctive desire to surrender to their touches, to submit and melt into their grasp is so strong, but the burning need to cum is stronger, and I fight back. Slippery skin leaves me pulling from their grasp, I almost stumble into the black pool at my feet, but I manage to retain my footing. Whipping the chain about my head, I force the black temptresses back, clearing a space about me. The head myrmidon flicks her whip at me, but I manage to avoid its intoxicating caress, and with whirling chain in hand, I force her back outside my reach.

I know I have to get free, they’ll never let me orgasm unless I get a head start. In the distance I can see a collection of broken objects, the only feature in this blank landscape. I decide to make my way towards it, and set off, kicking out at my captors as I leap past them. I vault over the first waves heads and drop to the ground, sweeping them from their feet. The fire in my loins fuels my frenzied escape attempt, my chain flickers and more fall. I break free and sprint towards this outcrop, hurling the chain at my pursuers to slow them, as I pull away.

A forgotten lifetime of practice evading pursuit makes my movements instinct, I have no thought, just desires, and the pistoning of my legs. I rocket towards my goal, the dirt beneath my slick feet providing them purchase enough to propel me forwards further. I am running faster and faster, shedding the last drops of the black goop from my back as the throng drops away. Suddenly the ground beneath me softens to thick mud, and I stumble and fall. I have nothing to hold onto, and within moments I have sunk beneath the surface, and into darkness.

* * *

In the white room, the woman on the table moaned as the lights flickered for a moment. Engrossed in her task, the woman at the keyboard barely looked up. After a moments typing, she stood and began attaching leads to another box. Loose wires collected, connecting the moaning woman directly into the new machine. Once she clipped the cables into place, a string of glowing LEDs flickered to life, and the hum of the machine joined the others within the room.

Grace stepped quietly through the doorway, with a concerned look upon her otherwise quite beautiful face. “I saw the lights, what just happened?” She enquired.

“I don’t know, there was a spike in the signal, but it’s gone now. I’m increasing the strength of our transmissions and trying to track it down again. It could be an opening.”

“Can we use it?”

“I am not sure. Maybe.”

* * *

I am floating. The mud holds me in its soft loving grasp, and I am happy to let it. I can feel my willingness to keep moving fade away, seeping out into the mud as it flows into me. The pressure in my snatch grows, pulsing through me, pounding my limbs to jelly. I let out a soft mewl, and swallow more mud, my fingertips reaching down to begin feeding it into me, pressing handfuls of it into my cleft.

I can feel my thoughts melting out of my slit again, and any desire to struggle slipping away. I was running, but it’s so hard to think why when the mud is wrapped around my mind. I feel hands gripping my arm, trying to pull me to the surface. I break free of the myrmidon’s grasp, its assault jarring me back into motion. Swimming to the surface with swift strokes, I hurrying to escape the mud before I succumb to its seductive grasp once more.

I burst free from the mud on the other side, I can see the myrmidons beginning to swim across the gap, their glossy black forms seemingly immune to the mud’s lure. The dark black mud clings to my curves, and it tingles quite nicely. It’s a distraction, but a pleasant one, I break into a run again, and head towards the outcrop.

* * *

Jen stood over the restrained woman, heedless of her renewed writhing. Her eyes fixed firmly upon the digital readout upon the most recently connected computer hub, watching as the numbers counted down. Slowly and methodically, she screws a small vial of silvery liquid into the port of the pneumatic injector gun, her eyes never leaving the timer.

Slowly drawing her fingertips across the bound woman’s belly, Jen let her fingers linger appreciatively beneath the soft flesh of her breasts. Slowly she leant down, and kissed the moaning woman’s belly button, before rising again.

“Come back to us Jacqui, please.” she says softly, as the timer hit zero, and the needle-gun hisses softly.

As Jacqui’s body convulsed in pleasure, Jen returned to typing at the keyboard. Upon entering the complex commands, she flicked the intercom on. “It seems to have worked Grace, we’ll be ready for you in here soon.”

* * *

As I stagger into the maze of twisted wreckage I slump against a makeshift wall. I can feel my legs about to give out, but any moment now I will be able to lose my pursuers in this maze, and finally cum. the mud has begun to dry and harden upon my skin. As I force myself to walk further inwards the thin layer over my skin starts to crack, crazed patterns traipse across my breast as some of the smaller pieces flake off and fall away, revealing the creamy white skin beneath. The mud about my crotch remains satisfyingly moist, and I pause to rub it against me a little, feeling more caked on mud falling from my arms and back.

As I dive deeper and deeper into the maze, even more of my skin is revealed. My skin seems really clean beneath it, like all the sweat and black oil got absorbed by the mud, and as it dries and falls away I am cleansed. It feels so strange, like it is more than just the mud falling away. But I know how much mud and goo is inside me, in my pussy and in my head. I am still a very dirty little girl, no matter how clean I look. I climb over some huge metal contraption and marvel at the intricately wrought patterns upon it. It seems familiar to me, like I have been in this junkyard before, but the memories are hazy.

It’s a little strange to have these thoughts, I think I am more thinking than I have been in forever. Even with the growling need trapped between my legs with a firmly placed hand. I tweak a nipple with my free hand, and keep walking. I think I may be leaving a trail for the myrmidons to follow. Maybe it is the tugging of forgotten memories, or instinct, or perhaps just an illusion, but I feel as though I am being drawn towards the centre of the maze, like something is waiting there for me.

* * *

Grace sashayed into the room, stripped of her formfitting robes, her body revealed in its entirety. The oils rubbed lovingly into her skin left it glistening softly in the light. Quietly padding over to where Jacqui lay strapped, she tenderly caressed the moaning woman’s belly.

“Is she ready?”

Jen nods, “Ready when you are.”

An exquisitely lacquered fingernail traced the curve of Jacqui’s stomach, working their way slowly towards her mound. Gently she slid her fingernail beneath the tight strip of white latex, peeling the shiny plastic sheath from her slit. Once the wrapping was pulled free, Grace carefully slipped her finger inside. Jacqui’s unconscious moaning grew louder as with a wet slurp, Grace gently eased a humming egg from her cleft.

As soon as the egg had been removed, Grace slid her fingers back into Jacqui’s mound. Slippery strokes gently teasing her hips up into the air, before withdrawing them, and leaving her groin writhing against the empty air. Grace doesn’t leave her yearning for long, bending to replace her fingertips with her probing tongue. As she slowly draws her tongue across Jacqui’s silken maidenhood, Grace motioned to Jen before teasing and stroking at Jacqui’s thighs. Jacqui unconsciously began franticly grinding against the warm intrusions as the sounds of keystrokes are quickly drowned out by her moans.

* * *

I turn the corner and there it is, the centre of the maze. Several paths lead to this clearing, surrounded by scraps of metal and the discarded corpses of urban life, and in the very centre of it all, an empty pedestal. It looks kinda sad, all alone there. I may be a leaking slutty dirty girl, but I am pretty sure there should be a statue or something on there. I still really need to get off, and that pressure in my loins just keeps building, so I crawl up onto the pedestal and spread myself.

Immediately my fingertips start to slide over me, pleasure arcing like chain lightning from my fingertips. Pent up frustration and desire plucking furiously at my sex. I release a slow moan, luxuriating in the tender caresses for the first time in so long it feels like forever. But tenderness is fleeting, as the frantic need pushes to the fore, and I tug hard upon my nipple rings.

Pain and pleasure blend and I am driven further towards insensibility, writhing wantonly for all to see. It feels right that I am here upon this pedestal. To be on display. Displaying myself. Legs splayed apart and dripping mound stroked fervently.

There is such an enormous pressure building in my belly, steadily growing and throbbing. I’ve never felt anything like it before, it’s as though my whole body is guiding me towards an orgasm, relentlessly nudging me closer and closer to the edge.

Eyes hooded with lust gaze out while my fingers roam in search of untouched flesh. Every inch of my body feels alive and restless. My nipples are stiff and swollen from the constant attention, and my thighs ache in such a good way. There’s movement nearby, but I am so so close, pushing deeper and rubbing myself raw even as the faceless black figures step into the clearing.

And there they stop, they seem somehow unwilling to approach closer. Through the pulsing haze my mind struggles to wonder why, it’s almost as though they are afraid. Curiosity wrenches loose and falls into the raging fires of my denied needs, disappearing from sight and mind as it I am consumed by another spike of pleasure.

Gasping in joyous release I feel the long denied climax approaching, steady and unfaltering. It is as though every nerve in my body is singing in torturous need. And then, like crystal, I shatter. Pure bliss. Rampant desire pours from me. Juices swelling and pouring forth, a torrent of filthy black liquid gushes out my cleft, pressure released as I feel cleansed. Purified by the warm afterglow as all that darkness flows out of me and pools about the ground below me. Suddenly freed from the blackened chains, my mind soars, riding the crest of each tremour and aftershock, rising higher and higher as the world falls away. Far below me the myrmidons melt like waxen figurines, returning to the goo from which they were formed. Feeling it drain away and leaving me free. Moaning in bliss I float higher and everything is enveloped in white light.

* * *

Clad in her acolytes’ robes, Jacqui smiled softly as the clingy material once more held her in its slick embrace. It had been a struggle, the insidious control of The Black Queen had nearly proven too strong, but the goddess’s light had guided Jacqui back into the arms of her sisters, and she delighted in their affection. She had proven herself worthy once again of wearing her mark. Humming softly to herself, the gentle throb of her tattoo pulsing with a more pervasive pleasure than the throbbing egg once more nestled within her.

Jacqui bowed, the thrill of the suit and the oil once again fresh and sublime. She had been truly blessed, with the love and forgiveness of the goddess, the strength and kindness of her sisters, and Grace’s deft touches to guide her back into the light. Only one thing was missing to complete the picture. Jacqui wriggled in her suit, sending ripples of pleasure as it conformed to her body shape once more, stretching and clinging to her every curve. She looked over the gathered crowd, scanning for one particular face.

Once she had undergone the reinitiation, Grace had explained what had happened during her absence. Apparently they had begun the search soon after she had gone missing, but both girls had proven very difficult to track. Once they had been found, Grace and the others had immediately dispatched a strike force to recover her, the Twins, Kiri and Yuriko fighting through swarms of mindless drones to find their missing sisters. Unfortunately, in the chaos, The Black Queen had escaped, but Grace assured the girls that every effort was being made to track her down.

Even after they found her, the struggle to free her from the clutches of the black queen had only just begun. It had taken Jen nearly a week to break through the barriers holding Jacqui’s former self captive, and allowing her the chance to break free.

As soon as she was able, Jacqui had insisted on knowing what had happened to Jess. Grace assured her that all was well, and that by submitting so fully, Jess had actually avoided many of the more potent mind stripping techniques Jacqui had faced, and so was much easier to rehabilitate. Although it did little to assuage Jacqui’s guilt, Grace insisted that by surrendering completely, Jess’s personality had been kept intact, just subsumed. Without The Black Queen’s periodic reinforcements, she had apparently regained much of her perky demeanour.

And now, having completed her initiation for the second time, Jacqui gazed out, longing to see her lovers face, afraid to find it missing, or hurt by the betrayal she had enacted. Then she spied her angel, bright pink and blue tassels hanging from her hair, looking straight back at her. Their eyes met, and Jacqui could see only love, forgiveness in them. Leaping from the platform, Jacqui ran into Jess’s arms, burying her in kisses.

“I’m so sorry my love.” She said, after finally breaking from the embrace.

“It’s ok, I’m just glad you’re back. I missed you so much.” Jess sighed and pulled Jacqui back into her arms. Softly rubbing against her, Jacqui smiled and melted happily against her lover.

End Book 1