The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Creation of Camy (aka a Bimbo is Born)

Cameo Girl is transformed into the perfect Bimbo Bodyguard.

Fd mc ff

Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction not to be read by those under 18 as it contains steamy verbal images of sex and mind control and some rather drastic brain washing. This story tracks pretty closely to the video I just released at http://clips4sale.com/28067 which I hope you all take a loot at and enjoy as well. This is the sequel to Cameo Girl vs Femme Fatale. Which in turn takes place some time after Femme Fatale and the Private Eye. Send all complaints and praise to

Femme Fatale considered her captured heroine. A week had gone by since she’d subdued the superheroine with her drugged smoke and hypnotic crystal. A very enjoyable week. She’d taught the eager to please Cameo Girl much about pleasing a woman, and taken advantage of her super strength to rearrange some of the furniture in her hideout. Her regular thugs balked at moving furniture, said it was a breach of union rules. The damn henchman’s union was becoming more inconvenient all the time.

But now it was time to up the ante. She’d trained Cameo Girl to follow her commands with powerful hypnotic conditioning, but she didn’t want an unthinking slave following her around like a lost puppy dog, despite the very pretty puppy brown eyes of hers. So she was ready for the next stage in her plan. The transformation of that personality to one that would never pose a threat to her again.

“Sweet Cameo Girl come here please.” She didn’t raise her voice, she knew at this point that Cameo Girl was so focused on the sound of her voice she would come to her, no matter where in the hideout she was, no matter what she was doing. She wandered in with a large, bald man struggling in her one handed grip on her throat.

“Yes Mistress” she said casually.

“Why are you holding one of my men by the throat?” Femme Fatale asked without the slightest inflection of surprise or emotion.

“He was bothering me and you said I was allowed to defend myself against anyone except you.”

“Yes Cameo Girl, I meant why did you bring him with you.”

“But Mistress, you said when I hear your summons I’m supposed to come right to you without any delay.”

“Sweet Cameo Girl, in the future you are allowed to put down my henchmen or whatever you’re holding in your hands before coming to me.”

Cameo Girl, or the subdued shadow of Cameo Girl that she had become looked downcast and teary at the implied rebuke. She tried so hard to please her Mistress and kept screwing up. It wasn’t fair.

Almost anyone else would have embraced Cameo Girl and told her it was allright, anyone with a scrap of decency couldn’t resist the hardworking heroine and would hate to see that beautiful face marred by sadness. Even Femme Fatale, not noted for her compassion took the beautiful superheroine in her arms.

“There, my sweet. Don’t be sad. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just letting you know what I want for the future. You did perfectly well.”

Hearing this Cameo Girl beamed a smile that lit the darkness. Femme Fatale kissed Cameo Girl, because she could and who wouldn’t, the beautiful brunette with an athletic body that still had supple full curves, which Femme Fatale traced with her satin gloved hands.

“Before I get too distracted by you, and I’ve spent most of the past week being distracted by you I’m afraid, it’s time for a change.”

“You’re not getting rid of me are you Mistress? I can do better.”

“No I’m not getting rid of you, I’m just going to play a little game. A little game of let’s pretend. And dress up. You can do that for your Mistress, can’t you.”

“Of course Mistress.”

Femme Fatale waved a dismissing hand at her gasping thug as he lay on the ground. He gathered himself up and limped away, trying to keep his wheezing to a minimum.

Femme Fatale placed one of her special cigarettes in her holder, then lit it and took a deep inhale. She blew the smoke into Cameo Girl’s face. “I need you to relax for me sweet Cameo Girl. I’m going to transform you. I’m going to take that brilliant crimefighting mind, that detective instinct and replace it with a mind that’s obsessed with boys, girls, sex, clothes, make up and looking sexy. The only detecting you’re going to do is finding out the best place to buy name brands at wholesale. We’re going to have such fun.”

“Yes Mistress.” Inside Cameo Girl, a voice in the back of her head was crying out no, I don’t want to be changed. And it must have shown in her eyes, a moment of wild panic.

Femme Fatale casually waved her holder back and forth beneath the helpless heroine’s nose. Unconsciously Cameo Girl followed the aromatic smoke, breathing it in as her muscles grew tired and limp and her mind became open and pliable.

“I think you’re getting far too tired to stand. Why don’t you sit down, on this special pink stool I’ve prepared for you. Pink is going to become one of your favorite colors. What’s your favourite color now Cameo Girl?”

“Black Mistress. Especially black and white together. Like my outfit.”

“Hmmm, I guess we’ll stick with black and white for now. But we’re going to paint your nails pink, and give you bright red lipstick.”

“But I don’t like bright red lipstick, or pink.”

“I know dear hart, but you will. Now just relax, Femme Fatale is going to care of everything. Just let go, breathe in the smoke and feel all of your cares wafting away. Let go for me, grow helpless. Feel your body growing so heavy for me, as your eyes follow my cigarette holder, back and forth, back and forth. So very relaxed for me, my little heroine, such a sweet, sweet girl.” Cameo Girl’s eyes became glassy as the sedative in the smoke made her body feel so heavy and her mind felt as if it was drifting far above it, looking down on herself.

Part of her, a very small voice in the back of her head said ‘don’t. Don’t breathe in the smoke. Don’t let her get in our head.’ But that voice was faint and quickly drowned in the sweet drowsy smoke, wafting over her, and that wonderfully sexy voice telling her that everything was going to be okay.

Soon her head was far too heavy to hold up, and she just crumpled into her Mistress’s lap while Femme Fatale lovingly stroked her hair.

“You’re such a sweet Cameo Girl for me, so very sweet. You’ve become my favourite toy in such a short time. I know that makes you happy to hear that, and I enjoy making you happy. Just as you enjoy obeying and pleasing me. Don’t you. Sweet girl.”

“Now Cameo Girl, I’m going to change you. And you want to change, because that’s what would please me. So imagine your personality, like a work of art. And now we’re blurring the lines, erasing parts and putting new parts in. And all this feels wonderful, like a massage working the kinks out of your muscles. Except I’m working the kinks out of your mind instead. And everything will feel much better from now on. I promise. You believe me don’t you. You believe everything I say. Because I am everything to you sweet girl, your Mother, your lover, your teacher, all rolled into one.”

Femme Fatale absently stroked Cameo Girl’s hair, knowing everything she was saying was penetrating deep into Cameo Girl’s subconscious. She had never tried so deeply rewriting someone’s mind before. It gave her a thrill between her legs. Which gave her a wicked idea...

“Cameo Girl. I know it’s hard to move, with the lovely smoke drifting through your lungs and mind. But since you’re already in my lap, it won’t take much effort at all. Just slide up my skirt and push your mouth on my moist soft lips. Good girl. And you know what to do now, I’ve trained you so well. Keep licking me, soft gentle strokes on my clip while I’m talking, while I rewrite your mind to please me, show how glad you are to hear my voice and obey me, pleasure me while I change you, my sweet little pleasure slave.”

“Now Cameo Girl, first thing I’m going to change is your name. Cameo Girl is a name for a super heroine, and that doesn’t fit what I want at all. I’m going to call you Cami, which you’ll spell with an adorable heart over the i. And you won’t wear spandex, you’ll wear short skirts and low cut tops to drive the boys and girls crazy. Think about that. Let my voice sink deep into you, the idea of boys and girls looking at you, wanting you, admiring your pretty, sexy clothes. That turns you on, doesn’t it?”

Cameo Girl couldn’t answer, but her tongue sped up as she licked and sucked with enthusiasm. Femme Fatale moaned, and clenched her thighs around Cameo Girl, no Camy’s head.

“You’re doing so well Camy. So, so, well! Mmmmm, ohhh, Camy, oooh you like when I call you Camy, part of you wants this. Wants to be free from being a heroine, to be a carefree bimbo. Oh that’s delicious. I should have guessed, mmmhhhh, ohhhhh, ohhhhh, Ohhhhhh! Gooood Girl! Ahhhhh. What was I saying? You’ve quite made me lose my train of thought. Such a good girl. You can stop now. Please stop, it’s gotten a little too sensitive at the moment. Sweet Camy. Look at me, stare deep into my eyes, good, let go and drift and hang on my every word.”

Camy, swayed in front of her Mistress, her eyes vacant and wide as she stared deep into the lucid pools of Femme Fatale’s beautiful eyes. She was so thoroughly trained right now, that a gun could go off point blank next to her ear and she wouldn’t even blink.

“First let’s take off this ugly spandex.” She removed the skin tight body suit that Cameo Girl had worn through so many hard fought battles, and stared at the beautiful breasts beneath. Even Femme Fatale, a connoiseiur of the female form of the first order, was stunned at the bounty before her.

“You are so beautiful Camy, your body continually amazes me. Now put on this pretty black bra for me. And I’ve got a nice white skirt for you to wear. And some long satin gloves. Don’t these feel nice. So smooth and soft. You love satin. You love pink. You love silk. You love the feel of stockings on your legs. You love the way men and girls watch your ass in high heels. You love to be looked at, desired. You will be my perfect bimbo bodyguard. You want to be desired, touched and groped. But you only love me. I’m the only one your heart belongs to, even as your body will belong to anyone I wish, whenever I wish.”

Camy wished her Mistress would stop talking. She was so excited by the feel of her new gloves, she just wanted to rub them all over her body. Or someone else’s body. And it was so hard to concentrate on her Mistress’s words, Especially as she looked at Femme Fatale’s silk dress. For the first time she wondered if her Mistress had bought it off the rack or had it specially made.

“Mistress may I ask a question?”

Femme Fatale was surprised, and arched a delicate eyebrow. “Go on.”

“Is your dress off the rack or designer?”

“Oh what a perceptive question Cami. I’m so proud of you. It’s specially designed.”

“Good. I’d be really dissappointed otherwise.”

“You would be, wouldn’t you. You’re coming along splendidly. Next I think it’s time to do your make up. I have some pink nail polish and bright red lipstick. Very slutty.”

Cami cooed.

Femme Fatale applied lipstick and nail polish, all the while reinforcing Cami’s new priorities. But then flickering lights drew her attention. That was the visual warning that there was an intruder on the premises. Well if it wasn’t a super, than her thugs could handle it. And if it was a super... well it might be time for her bimbo bodyguard to be put to the test.

“Cami, you’re not a superheroine anymore are you.”

“God no. No one should wear spandex. It’s so two decades ago. Spandex should be something they make work crews wear.”

“Good Cami. And you belong to me.”

“Not for much longer Femme Fatale! Soon she’ll be free, or as free as any woman can be in our still too patriarchal society.”

“Oh my god, it’s a bum!” shried Cami.

“I only wish, it’s a hero. And since no one else can be this pedantic, it must be the Radical.” And she was sure she was right, observing his tie dyed bandana, the large bronze peace symbol on his chest and his bell bottom jeans.

“I am. And I’m here to take you down, you illicit capitalist!”

Femme Fatale had lit her cigarette discretely during his first rant, and inhaled. Now she leaned forward and quickly blew the smoke towards his face.

For the first time her smoke caused no drooping of the eyes, no blanking of the face.

“Trying to use drugs against the man they call the Hippie Hero, and they call you a criminal mastermind.”

He grabbed Femme Fatale and locked her hands behind her back. “Cami, hurt this self righteous idiot for me.”

“But I might break a nail.”

“Cami, remember you’re a bimbo, but a bimbo who can fight. Bodyguard mode.”

Cami straightened a bit, and took up a fighting stance. She still seemed reluctant to touch the hippie hero, even to the extent of landing a punch or a kick. The Radical attempted to quickly subdue her by catching her wrist and twisting it behind her back. She easily shook off the hold and struck him a punch to the gut that sent him staggering back.

“Jumpin Jack Kerouac, you’re as strong as Cameo Girl.”

“I am Cameo Girl, only prettier and much better accessorized!”

“Well than I’m going to have to hurt you to save you.” And so saying he slipped her next punch and swept her down to the ground. “On the ground your greater strength won’t help you.”

The two of them grappled back and forth, trading holds and positions. Both were highly skilled fighters, at the peak of human conditioning. The Radical was a better grappler and pinned Cami down trying for an arm bar. When she rolled away to break the hold, he took her back and locked in the rear naked choke. “Give it up Cami, no one can break this hold. But he hadn’t reckoned on Cami’s superhuman strenght. She just wrenched his arm free of her throat.

Then she spun around behind him and locked her elbow across his throat. It wasn’t a technically sound choke, but with her strength it didn’t need to be. Radical gasped for breath that wasn’t coming. He flailed and struggled, but to no avail. His movements grew weak and spastic. Soon he was jerking and flailing, a body in motion with no one at the controls.

“Let him go Cami, I don’t want a dead hero. Live one’s are ever so much more fun...”