The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

With practised ease, Sugar checked the second heroine’s bonds. The brutally efficient gag was secure and an intricate webwork of straps and buckles would make sure the captive could do little more than twitch.

The one-time crimefighter paused for a moment, staring down at the helplessly imprisoned young woman. Then, she plunged her fingertips down and through the speedster’s toned and tanned flesh. Sugar exhaled slowly, partially re-solidifying her nails and letting them stroke very gently.

Her captive bucked weakly, barely making an impression on the tight straps. And, taking that as her cue to continue, Sugar began to thrum her fingers against the prisoner’s nerve-trunks. Ghost touches lingered in the periaqueductal grey, coaxing endorphins from the helpless woman’s body and the lightest of caresses flooded the woman’s immobile frame with adrenaline.

The look of concentration slowly faded into one of triumph, as her captive’s breathing grew steadily more laboured. By the time her probing fingers started to pulse against the heart of the speedster’s clit, the girl was soaked in sweat, her muscles thrumming in desperate need.

“Just a taste,” she sighed, before carefully withdrawing almost all of herself from inside the heroine’s trembling body.

Sugar let out the breath she had been holding, pursing her lips softly as she exhaled. The minute splinter of her awareness continued to throb, driving her captive to orgasm even before the pod had completely sealed.

Life as a villainess seemed to suit the glazed slave, not that she remembered the woman she once had been.

She smiled more darkly, feeding off the pleasure surging through their new convert as it doubled and then redoubled.

But there really wasn’t enough time to loiter. Another intruder still needed to be dealt with and there wasn’t nearly enough wiggle-room for her to play fast and loose with Master’s instructions.

Cypher flopped on her belly like a landed fish. Sweet, sticky tendrils swirled in her forebrain, dulling her senses even as they heightened the pervasive arousal. She gave another feeble tug, just because she couldn’t quite bring herself to surrender.

Everyone was counting on her. Miriam most of all. And yet, it seemed as if she had already failed.

A single tear trickled over the heroine’s cheek. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. Miriam was supposed to settle her karmic debt before it came back to bite her on the very shapely arse.

The anger stoked the faltering flames in her belly. Mistress’ word was still law, but even the sorceress had admitted she was fallible. Turning the Enslaver’s own magicks against him had been enough to tip the morally ambiguous magic-user firmly into the grey and this... clusterfuck... could only be reality showing its displeasure.

Miriam had eventually explained the ‘three-fold-rule’ and, while Cypher viewed the arcane with distrust almost equal to that with which her Mistress viewed technology, it wasn’t hard to make the connection between what Shroud had done and the position in which she and her friends now found themselves.

The chamber had been liberally dusted with psychoactive sherbet, but Sugar left no discernible trace as she approached the partially-subdued heroine.

According to Master this one had the ability to control technology, but no offensive superpowers to speak of. Sugar felt a sly grin tug at the corners of her mouth.

So, basically Ampere-lite, she chuckled to herself.

Her smile froze in place, and Sugar’s brow creased in confusion. She had no idea where the thought had come from or, more pressingly, what it meant. A sense of detachment rolled over her, derealisation that left the young woman reeling.

She turned her attention to the fallen-heroine, shoving aside her uncertainty by focussing on something more tangible. The slightly-built blonde appeared a lot more aware than her fellow captives, but that wasn’t going to be a problem.

Even if her hands hadn’t been trapped uselessly in Master’s binding marshmallow, Sugar would have been confident of taking her down. Half-bound as she was, the heroine really didn’t have a hope.

In fact, given how much of Master’s syrupy essence there was smeared over the woman’s face, Sugar was surprised she was still able to struggle.

That surprise only deepened when the captive managed somehow to lift her head and fix Sugar with a rather dazed stare.

“Geist?” the heroine gasped. “Wh... what are you doing here?”

Sugar froze, her thoughts a confused muddle as she tried to understand what she was feeling. The same sense of unreality tumbled over her and there seemed nothing she could do about it. Her mind searched desperately, slamming headlong into the slippery barriers that delineated the Confectioner’s programming.

A shock of absolute obedience thrill between Sugar’s swollen pussylips. It tightened around her clit, vibrating hungrily against her heated core and leaving her in no doubt that Master’s word was law.

Carol couldn’t believe it. She’d only met Geist once, but the girl had made an impression.

What on earth was the heroine doing here and, good grief, what was she wearing? Or rather, given the square-footage of skin on display, what wasn’t she wearing? What the hell was all this about?

Something flickered across the other woman’s face, a look of confusion and discomfort that almost immediately disappeared behind a shiver of delight, which couldn’t possibly have been a profane as it appeared.

Geist didn’t answer. But, much to Carol’s relief, the other heroine did cross the chamber and bend to her restrained arms.

Cypher’s relief was short-lived, however, as the other woman slipped into an intimate embrace, sliding one hand over Carol’s mouth, while the other grasped hold of one ripe tit and began to grope unashamedly.

She tried to speak, to demand to know just what Geist thought she was playing at. Unfortunately, the heroine clearly knew what she was doing and all that emerged was an indigent ‘mmmppffff’. Worse still, the other girl was far stronger, especially with the Confectioner’s drugs still in Carol’s system and, it seemed she had leverage on her side.

That left Cypher with no choice but to lounge there helplessly, her body crushed against the other heroine’s.

Sugar smiled, feeling her captive slump back in resigned surrender. Despite that, she didn’t relax her grip at all. She wanted the woman to know that she was a prisoner and that was going to be so much easier if the heroine wasn’t allowed to muddy the waters by speaking.

Slowly she increased the intensity of the massage, mauling and fondling with quite wild abandon as her fingers probed and squeezed at the woman’s succulent breasts. She alternated using the flat of hand and the tips of her fingers, catching and holding the sweet flesh one moment and then grinding it remorselessly as if she could use it to wear away her prisoner’s resistance.

She could feel the heroine’s body react, tension puckering her nipples even as the captive continued to pant against Sugar’s palm. The girl squirmed on the enthralled woman’s lap, her arms crushed between them and forced to slide against Sugar’s glazed skin.

It took only a moment of concentration for the former crimefighter to use her power again, easing phantom fingers into the warm liquid of her prisoner’s tits. She reached deep inside, swirling her digits through the responsive flesh.

Co-opted nerve-endings sang as she directed, sending hideously potent thrills leaping up into the base of Cypher’s brain. Her own, syrup-coated body moulded perfectly to the other woman’s, shared arousal spilling over and painting slippery trails.

Cypher surged, challenging Sugar’s strength as she convulsed into climax. Her breath was hot and wet against, her tormentor’s hand, while desire spilled unheeded from darkly swollen lips.

The girl’s touch was magical, beyond anything Carol had ever known. She’d heard that it was possible to orgasm just from having your breasts stimulated, but had never experienced what that might be like.

Her mind was too fogged to fully understand what Geist was doing to her, but it didn’t seem to matter. The heroine’s small tits were alive, the girl’s touch like electricity and every soft flick was better even that Mistress’ tongue against her clit.

Geist pinched, twisting savagely and her mind seemed, paradoxically, to collapse in on itself even as it exploded forth in a wave of pleasure than fractured and distorted everything. Her thoughts whirled, lost amidst the maelstrom.

The Confectioner’s scent seemed to thicken, and Geist’s grip tightened, forcing her to breath through her nostrils.

Her world slowed, pleasuring ebbing to a hoarse roar and the heroine’s abused mind finally succumbed.

The tall blonde was certainly putting on quite a display. It wasn’t quite enough to completely banish the Confectioner’s mood, but watching the ice maiden clumsily pawing at her unbearably aroused snatch did take his mind off the damage his lair had sustained.

He had plans for this one, very special plans that would twist her abilities to his purposes. The villain took another moment to more fully appreciate the heroine’s torpid touches and then he stepped close, bending to collect another of his hypnotic lollipops as he did so.

Her eyes were glassy, unseeing orbs, but her fingers still tightened reflexively around the proffered candy. The heroine gave a wonderfully hopeless moan, before plunging the drugged lollipop between her drooling nether lips.

Smiled deviously, the villain scooped his prize up, cradling her almost tenderly in his arms. She, in turn, redoubled her efforts, slamming the rapidly melting confection into her cunt, abusing herself in reckless abandon, each ‘taste’ of the lollipop only adding to her unnatural ‘thirst’.

The Confectioner carried his captive past the heavy pipework and storage tanks, stopping only when he reached the room that contained the sybian.

It was a struggle to ease the woman into the squat sarcophagus, despite his augmented strength. It took several attempts before he managed to squeeze her behind the pipework and into the cramped interior.

His victim offer no resistance when her lowered her frost-coated frame onto the sculpted rubber machine. In fact, as the over-sized dildo slipped into her syrup spattered pussy, the heroine offered a groan that sounded very much like encouragement.

Cuffing her ankles took seconds, but the woman began to struggle feebly when he started to restrain her wrists. Despite the cruelly ribbed and studded dildo filling her, the heroine continued to fight for more stimulation. Unfortunately for her, she was simply too weak to resist the villain’s gentle insistence.

Once he was sure that she was secure, the Confectioner used one of his feeding-gags to muffle any further sounds the woman might make. He attached a long, corrugated tube to the mouth-stretching ring, ready for whatever evil concoctions he might mix.

A pair of wickedly toothed clamps completed the picture, their short chain looped through a d-ring attached to the sybian, bending her forward and drawing the heroine’s lush breasts into ecstatically tight cones.

The villain patted his captive very softly on her raised arse, still grinning malevolently.

“Good girl,” he encouraged as he activated the pumps. “I’m afraid that I will have to leave you now, but don’t fret, I have something very special to keep you entertained.”

A low whine filled the chamber, indicating that the sybian was active. The pump forced a slow trickle of melted candy into the woman’s pussy, keeping her in the helpless state of mindless arousal.

The metal hatch swung closed, sealing the ice-wielder inside the constrictive sarcophagus. Immediately the villain could see the ice began to form on its outer surface. He nodded in approval, before turning on his heel and striding from his newly commissioned refrigeration plant.

The energy beam clung to the exterior of Spice’s barrier, licking hungrily as it played back and forth over the intangible shielding. Plasma bleed off scorched the ceiling and left the tiled floor smouldering.

Its keening wail set her teeth on edge, the sound vibrated through Spice’s thoughts, whispering inaudible obscenities that threatened to collapse down into madness. She screamed, adding her voice to the rising swell.

Someone else’s memories flashed behind her eyes; each scene playing at supraluminal speed and giving no chance of recognition, much less understanding. It was overwhelming, but then, Spice was made of far sterner stuff than the ‘bot realised.

“Get out of my head!” she growled, forcing her power outward.

Lightning surged, spreading away from Spice’s fingertips and into the bubble that surrounded her. The shield flared into brilliance, lending its unbearable silver to the overhead lighting. For breathless seconds, there was nothing else and then the fluorescent tubes began to explode.

Phosphor rained down, glinting amidst the shattered glass.

Warning messages scrolled, pixellation stealing most of their meaning as static rolled through Stephibot’s sensors. Klaxons united in deafening anxiety, the sound dopplering in and out of strange harmonics.

She was really going to have to ask Mistress to do something about the alarms.

The electromagnetic pulse hit before she was even half-way through the shut-down procedure. Optical systems ignored the impact, while everything old-school was consumed in a flash of impossibly high voltage.

Stephibot could feel the other presence working furiously, isolating and purging key systems. But, in the confusion of electronic distortion, it took far too long for her to recognise exactly what was happening.

She’d naively assumed that the pulse would only affect her electronics but, as Ampere initiated her missile carousel’s emergency eject, Stephibot remembered that it was just as likely to ‘cook off’ her ordnance.

“Stop!” she subvocalised, moving to abort the jettison.

Her arm cannon was spilling sparks, the beam flickering as it tried to compensate for the damage. The naked woman’s shielding was holding firm, but, the real question was just how much of her old personality was making it through.

“What do you think you’re doing?” the voice snapped angrily and Stephibot was aware of its attempts to re-establish control. “You’re loaded for bear, Stephanie and if that payload goes boom, there won’t be enough of us left to fill a matchbox... a very small matchbox!”

But the gynoid wasn’t listening, she was trying to cobble together some kind of firing solution. Her sensors weren’t saying anything Stephibot wanted to hear and there was something really off about some of her calculations.

Not that any of that mattered, she had less than a second to get it done and even that was pushing the envelope. Besides, it wasn’t going to make any difference, at the distances involved, close was more than good enough.

She fired the salvo even before the protective panels had sprung fully open. Fire blew back through the gynoid’s shoulder blades and a fusillade of unguided rockets exploded from the concealed launch tubes seated above her collarbones.

“Polarise this!” Stephibot screamed over the roar.

Spice’s sense of elation was short-lived. One instant the ‘bot was reeling back, clearly damaged by the EMP and the next, her world was filled with fire and noise.

Her power reached, instinctively, for the missile’s brains, only to find that the circuitry was completely burnt out.

The first explosion hurled her backward, deafening Spice as the thunderclap battered her unprotected body. More blasts rippled across the surface of her barrier, each one leaving the young woman a little more befuddled than the last.

Reflexively she tried to strengthen the barrier, pouring every ounce of her strength into sustaining the faltering shield. More alien thoughts buzzed in the concussion, blending with the taste of hot copper to form an eerily familiar whole.

She tried to scream her denial, but the sound rang hollow to her abused ears.

Barriers she didn’t even knew existed began to crumble, spilling light that almost perfectly matched the awareness seeping in from outside.

It couldn’t be true.

And yet, just as obviously, it was.

Spice could feel the weight of someone else pressing down on her awareness, slowly crushing her out of existence. She screamed, railing at the unfairness of it all. But that, it seemed, was the limit of her defiance.

Nothingness drew Spice’s mind down and, with nowhere else left to run, it followed willingly.