The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

At least Terrier didn’t go down without a fight. The thug squad had tried to get the drop on hir while sie was out on patrol, but hir enhanced power of smell had scented them a mile away. They clearly hadn’t been expecting hir to fire the first shot. They were cocky, the kind of ex-military, ex-law enforcement washouts that typically ended up taking minion gigs. The type that assumed they were assumed they were better trained and coordinated than they actually were. They were kitted out with less-than-lethal energy weapons that probably came from some supervillain’s lab. That gave hir an edge, too. They were trying to take hir alive. Sie wasn’t returning the favor.

The ensuing gun battle ran for dozens of city blocks and blew through hir entire loadout of assault rifle ammo, submachine gun ammo, pistol ammo, a couple bricks of C4, several grenades, and a double-digit casualty count from the bad guys. No collateral casualties. Sie was very good at what sie did. Well, sie did blow up a block of under-construction luxury townhomes, but sie figured they had it coming. Sie wasn’t surprised that nobody showed up to help hir. The cops stayed away from this neighborhood, and the cops with capes weren’t much interested either.

In the end, they just wore hir down, cornered hir in an alley. Whoever was bankrolling the operation had the kind of HR budget that covered a never-ending stream of disposable goons. One of them had gotten behind hir and hit hir with a stun baton right at the back of the neck. Hir muscles were still sore from that one. Being forced to kneel in the street with hir hands cuffed behind hir back by some kind of encapsulating gel wasn’t improving the situation.

Two goons with stun rays flanked hir, helmets off. Both women, short hair buzzed on the sides. If Terrier met them at a bar sie might have tried to buy them a drink. Another woman, wearing a lab coat, walked up to them, and they both casually saluted her. “Ma’am,” said the goon with the brown hair, the green eyes, and the scar down her cheek.

“Lazowski.” The third woman was middle-aged, a spray of curly auburn hair on top of her head barely held back by a green headband. Her face was handsomely angular, with rectangular glasses perched on a hawklike nose, and her one blue and one brown eye both held a slightly wild gleam. That plus the lab coat gave her the classic mad scientist look. That wasn’t good. It was never good when the science villains wanted you alive. “How’s our prisoner?”

“I’d be a lot fucking better if you got these cuffs off me,” Terrier snarled.

Lazowski and the woman both ignored hir. “Sie gave us a real run for it, but we got hir in the end.”

“Good, very good work.” The woman stooped down to Terrier’s level. Sie spat in her face. It splattered against her glasses. Without missing a beat, she took them off and wiped them down with her coat, put them back on and stood up. “No severe injuries, and sie still has plenty of fight left in hir. Very good work indeed.” She looked down at Terrier. “Mx. Lee—Mx. Is your preferred honorific, isn’t it?”

She waited for hir response. Terrier wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of one.

“I’ll assume yes. Tobi Lee, A.K.A. Terrier. I’m Dr. Viola Deviant. But you can just call me Dr. Deviant. Although I suppose soon enough you’ll just be calling me Mistress.” She smiled at her own joke. “I am the head of Violation, Inc., and we have been hired by a client who wishes to remain nameless—for now—to capture you and convert you into... in her words… ‘a slutty little puppyboy in heat who obeys my every command.’”

Violation, Inc. Terrier had heard of them. This was bad. Word on the street was they kidnapped supers, corrupted and converted them into whatever their clients paid for. Word was they were good at it. Terrier had a run-in with Toxina last year, after they’d had their way with her. She was… Sie didn’t want to think about it.

The other goon kept her gun aimed at Terrier as Lazowski knelt down to remove hir mask. A metal plate with two eyeholes, a mesh grill for a mouth, and a fierce-looking dog face painted on it, it was more for intimidation than protection. Beneath it, sie was scowling, hir thick black eyebrows angled angrily downward, hir button nose, tilted slightly upwards, making hir face simultaneously pugnacious and cute. Dr. Deviant ran her hand through hir short and curly black hair. “Now isn’t that an adorable face. Why would you want to hide that?”

Terrier just fumed in silence, trying not to flinch as Lazowski proceeded to remove hir body armor piece by piece and strip hir of what weapons sie had left. Dr. Deviant had pulled out a datapad from somewhere and was gesturing away on it with her fingers. “Let’s get you scanned before we begin the injection process. Let’s see… only superpower a heightened sense of smell, excellent physical condition, a chronic testosterone deficiency that has since been corrected…” She looked hir body up and down, and smiled warmly. “…with excellent results, I must say. Oh, and you’ve already been spayed. So that’s convenient.”

She reached into her coat and pulled out an alcohol swab and an injector with something purple inside it. She knelt down beside Terrier, swabbing a clean patch on hir arm with a surprisingly gentle manner. Then she stuck the needle in and pulled the trigger.

Terrier was expecting it to burn, but actually, it felt very… warm. It made hir feel warm all over, and tingly, and numbed some of hir fear and anger. “What the fuck is in that stuff?” Sie asked.

Dr. Deviant smiled knowingly. “Proprietary formula,” she said. “I’ve been calling it Good Boy Juice. It’ll make you nice and docile and pliable. And very, very horny, of course, as befits a good little puppyslut.”

Sie could feel it taking effect, the need starting to build deep within hir. Hir T dick was throbbing to hardness, and not only could sie feel her cunt getting wet, hir superpowered nose greatly amplified the musky scent. Worse, sie could start to smell the three women’s cunts too.

An unmarked black truck pulled up, providing a rush of new smells that gave Terrier a momentary distraction. Lazowski and the other goon opened the trailer and lowered a ramp. “Come on, my precious little puppyslut,” said Dr. Deviant. “Let’s take you back to my place before someone gets the bright idea of trying to rescue you and you get to watch me make a fucktoy out of them, too.”

Lazowski was behind hir with the stun ray, shoving hir sharply in the shoulder. “You heard the good doctor. Move it.”

Terrier tried to stand, but hir legs refused to move right. Sie faceplanted against the asphalt.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” said the doctor. “The enforced quadrupedalism must have started to take effect already. That’s good! It means your body is really taking to the formula. But you’ll be walking on all fours from now on, I’m afraid. Just like a good puppy. Wilson, you can go ahead and deactivate the containment.”

Wilson—the other goon—hit a button on one of her devices and the gel handcuffs melted away to water. It trickled down Terrier’s back. Sie pulled hirself up to all fours, hir legs shaking slightly.

“Alright, bitch,” said Lazowski, jabbing Terrier in the back with her gun again. “Get into the truck.”

“When I get out of this, I’m gonna shoot that thing at you point-blank and see how you like it.” Whether it was the drugs or the armed escort, sie couldn’t bring hirself to resist more than that. Sie started to crawl forward, unsteadily at first. Hir cheeks burned in indignation at being made to crawl like an animal. The worst part was that the drugs only made the humiliation turn hir on even more.

The walls of the trailer were lined with seats, illuminated in red. A troop transport, Terrier guessed. Lazowski prodded hir in up the ramp and took a seat, and Wilson pulled up the ramp and shut the doors, taking a seat against the other wall. Terrier tried to crawl onto the seat but was rebuffed by Lazowski with a prod from the stun ray and a pointed “no pets on the furniture,” so Sie took a squatting position on the floor. The truck rumbled off. Deviant must be in the front seat, Terrier thought.

Every bump in the road sent a jolt to Terrier’s hard clit, worsening the arousal. Sie’d never wanted to be fucked so hard in hir life. A particularly violent jostle made hir moan. Fuck it, sie decided. I’m gonna get off. Hir hand slipped past hir belt into hir pants and sie started stroking hir dick with two fingers, biting hir lip.

“Nuh-uh, slut.” Lazowski’s voice cut through hir erotic haze. “Boss lady says you aren’t allowed to play with yourself.”

Terrier stopped, pulling hir hand out of hir pants. A little string of hir own juices came with it. “Please…” Sie immediately hated how needy sie sounded.

“Well…” said Lazowski, settling herself back in her seat with a devious grin on her face, “If you just hump my leg, that isn’t really playing with yourself, now is it? It’s not your fault you’re a doggy bitch in heat and you can’t help yourself…”

Terrier rolled hir eyes. “OK. Fine. Deal.” Sie started to crawl over.

“Hold it, bitchslut.” Lazowski pointed the gun in hir face. “Let me get my pants off first, so you can thank me properly. It’s been a long night and I need a good hard orgasm to help me relax, work the tension out.” She unbuckled her belt and slid her pants off, then her briefs. Her bushy cunt was already faintly wet, her lips parted slightly. Terrier could smell it even better now. It smelled so inviting. Sweat, warm musk, and a hint of canvas. Sie looked over hir shoulder at Wilson, to see what the other woman made of this. From the smirk on Wilson’s face and the hand down her unzipped pants, getting to play with the captives must be one of the perks. Sie could smell hir cunt too. Earthy. Tangy. Sie wanted it.

Lazowski kicked her pants off to one side and stretched her right leg out for Terrier to mount. Sie did. Eagerly. Hir clit made contact with Lazowski’s leg, making hir whimper and clench hir thighs around it. Then hir face plunged into Lazowski’s cunt and sie started licking and sucking. Lapping with hir tongue. Like a dog. The thought turned hir on so much it nearly made hir cum. Lazowski shoved the tip of her stun ray against Terrier’s forehead. “No cumming, bitch, or I pull the trigger and you wake up with the worst headache of your life and the good doctor just does something even worse to you for not obeying orders.”

Terrier slowed hir humping, grinding hir T dick slowly, slowly, up and down Lazowski’s leg. “You’re…ah… pretty good at this,” said Lazowski. “You’re practically a natural at being a bitch.”

“Like sie was born for it,” said Wilson. “I can’t wait to get my turn helping break you in.”

Terrier drew out hir pussy-eating, figuring that the longer Lazowski lasted, the longer sie would get to hump away. Sie was in heaven, besides, her nose full with the smell and tongue drenched with the taste of her cunt. Lazowski kept the gun in place. Terrier hated how much that turned hir on even more. It was like something had been unlocked in hir. Sie’d never been so aroused in hir life, and every time sie thought the need and desire would stop building, it just… kept going. “Good boy,” Lazowski kept praising hir between gasps and moans. Every scrap of praise stirred something deep within Terrier. Yes. Sie was a good boy. A good puppyslut.

Finally, sie couldn’t draw it out any longer. Lazowski ground her cunt against hir face, and Terrier licked hard in just the right place, and it pushed her over the edge. Her whole body trembled and she let out a series of sharp, hard gasps as she came. When she finally finished, she shoved Terrier back with the gun and withdrew her leg, making Terrier fall on hir ass, hir dick still hard and needy. Sie whimpered before sie could stop hirself.

“That’s enough, bitch,” said Lazowski, grabbing her clothes from the floor and slipping her pants back on. “We’re almost there.”

Judging by the lack of windows, the Violation Inc. compound had to be underground somewhere. Dr. Deviant led the way and Lazowski and Wilson flanked Terrier as sie crawled on all fours down the hallways, staying at their side like a good puppy. The corridors were clean and clinical. That meant the scarier kind of mad science—the kind with money behind it.

A short, dark-skinned woman in a lab coat waved an alarmingly casual hello to the group as she saw them coming. “Hey Viola. This the new catch?”

“Hi Ramona.” Dr. Deviant stopped and turned to look down at Terrier. “Sit.” Sie squatted down on hir knees. “Yup, that’s hir. The conversion’s going great already. The Good Boy Juice is already doing its magic. It’s like sie was just made to be a puppy.”

Terrier’s face burned. Sie hated that part of her took that as a compliment. Sie tried to listen while the two scientists talked, hoping to find something that might clue hir to an escape strategy. But sie just couldn’t concentrate. Sie needed to cum so bad. The need had built to almost unbearable levels. The smell of so much concentrated cunt was hitting hir hard, and sie just wanted to lick. Something else was building, too. A faint itch all over hir body. Sie was wearing too many clothes...

“That’s a great suggestion! I definitely think the data from this conversion will be invaluable inNNMPH!” Ramona’s excitement turned to surprise as Terrier leapt up onto her and started humping her leg and trying to shove hir face under her skirt. Sie couldn’t take it any more. Sie needed to get off now.

“Stop! Down! Bad dog!” Terrier dropped to the floor before sie could even think about disobeying. “I’m sorry, Ramona, are you OK?”

“I’m… fine,” said Ramona, smoothing out the rumples in her skirt. “Definitely had worse. Remember when Toxina’s conversion was just starting out?”

“I seem to remember you enjoying that,” said Dr. Deviant.

Ramona shrugged. “Well, I can’t say it was a bad way to spend three days...”

“Lazowski, Wilson, were you teasing our poor little puppyslut on the ride over? Sie’s all worked up...”

Lazowski smirked. “Guilty as charged, ma’am.”

Dr. Deviant tut-tutted her with a finger. “Ah well. No harm done. Still, we’d better get this puppy to the exam room. Sie clearly needs to be trained.”

When they reached the exam room Dr. Deviant told Wilson and Lazowski to wait outside. It was almost like a veterinary office, except with more sex toys and mad science gadgets. A padded exam table stood in the center of the room, low enough to the ground for Terrier to easily crawl onto. “Get onto the table, pup,” said the doctor. Sie did, and the doctor hit a button on the side of the table, raising it to a more suitable examination height. “We had this specially designed for pet conversions,” she said, conversationally. “We’ve got other equipment for livestock and more specialty conversions, of course.”

“You, ah, do a lot of these then?” asked Terrier, trying to hide both her nervousness and the fact that sie desperately wanted the curly-haired science MILF to strip her naked, take the strapon on the counter, and rail hir wet cunt.

“Oh, a fair number,” said the doctor, putting on a pair of rubber exam gloves.

The itching was getting increasingly unbearable. Sie needed hir clothes off now. Sie tried to undo hir belt, but hir fingers refused to cooperate. Sie tried to grab the hem of hir shirt. No luck. It was like sie’d forgotten how to use hir fingers. Desperate, sie tried to roll on hir back and edge the shirt off.

“Sit,” said Dr. Deviant. Terrier stopped hir struggle against hir clothes and sat, looking up pleadingly at the doctor.

“Please… it itches,” sie said.

“Part of the Good Boy Juice. It’s to remind you that clothes are for people and you’re just a puppyslut. Though if your owners want to dress you up in cute little costumes that’s their prerogative.”

Sie whimpered.

“If you want me to take your clothes off, you’re going to have to ask me nicely. Like a good boy.”

“Please,” sie said. “Please get them off of me.”

“Hold still now. Arm goes through here... leg goes through here... there! What a good boy!”

Sie was completely naked, hir lithe, athletic body exposed to the cold air. It was an enormous relief. Hir chest was scarred in numerous places. Two from top surgery. A nasty one down hir side from a run-in with Feral Chylde early in hir career. The others—sie couldn’t even keep track any more. Between hir legs, nestled in a little patch of black hair that glistened with hir juices, hir fingertip-sized clit stood at attention.

“Oh, you are a horny little mess, aren’t you.” Dr. Deviant walked around behind Terrier and stuck a gloved finger in hir cunt. It slid in so easily. “Excellent! Your arousal levels are at or likely near peak. And with the Good Boy Juice doing its magic, you can expect that they won’t dip much lower than this. Though the peak might get even higher, over time.” With the finger still inside hir, she reached over with her thumb to rub Terrier’s dick. That drew an immediate moan. “Yes, very good results. You’re a natural!” She kept rubbing, making Terrier involuntarily grind hirself against her touch. “And you’re quite sensitive, too. Hmm. We might have to take some precautionary measures to keep you from humping everything all the time. But first…”

She withdrew the hand. Terrier felt so empty. “Please... if you’re going to do this to me, at least get me off.”

“Oh, I’m going to, pup, don’t you worry about that!” Dr. Deviant was alarmingly chipper as she went over to a cabinet of sex toys and pulled out an industrial-strength magic wand. “We just need to cure you of that bad habit of talking like you’re a person.” She turned the wand up to the lowest setting and applied it to Terrier’s crotch.

The results were instant and electric. Terrier involuntarily put hir head down on the table, raising hir ass and presenting it to the doctor. “And how are you... ffffffffuck... planning on... ohhhhh... doing that?”

“Easy peasy!” said the doctor. “The Good Boy Juice reinforces desired behavior patterns by neurally echoing the state of the brain during times of heightened endorphin release and lowered inhibitions.”

“What’s... oh god, fuck fuck fuck... that mean in… ah… English?” Sie was fully humping the wand now, twitching a little every time it brushed against hir dick.

“It means if you cum while being a good boy for me, whenever you’re being a good boy after that, your brain will make you feel really really good!”

Sie stopped humping, eyes widening in panic. Sie clenched hir teeth, trying to hold back the tide of orgasm.

“No, no, don’t fight it! Just be a good pup!” Dr. Deviant ground the wand hard against hir crotch. Sie let out a gasping fuck. “No,” said the doctor. “What do puppies say?”

Sie couldn’t stop hirself. Sie was a good boy. Sie knew the answer. Hir cheeks flushed bright red as sie let out a tiny little “Woof...”

“No, silly, they don’t say woof, they just bark.”

Sie blushed even harder and whimpered. Not like a human, like a dog. Like a pet. Like a good boy. Sie couldn’t stop hirself. It felt so good to give in. Sie could feel the orgasm building. It was taking all hir willpower to keep it back, to defy the instinct to just let go, just be a puppyslut.

“Oh but you’re a stubborn little puppy, aren’t you?” said Dr. Deviant. “I’m impressed. Most of my pets don’t last this long. But don’t worry.” She ground the wand harder into Terrier’s clit and slid her finger back into hir cunt. “The longer you hold out? The harder you cum? The stronger it makes the conditioning effect.”

Hir body was trembling all over now. The buzz of the wand on hir dick, the finger—no, fingers pumping into hir cunt... Somewhere in the back of hir brain sie thought about escaping, leaping off the table and making one last stand. But sie was too consumed by pleasure, by a deep instinct for obedience, to do anything other than hir mistress’s will. Sie realized sie was moaning. But puppies don’t moan. Sie switched to desperate, pathetic whimpers. They became full on barks, yips, and then whines as hir inevitable orgasm hit, her whole body spasming until sie collapsed face-first onto the exam table. Sie felt Dr. Deviant pat hir head.

“Good boy… such a good boy…”

Over the next several weeks, Dr. Deviant and her assistants ran Terrier through rigorous obedience training. They made hir do tricks—sit, stay, come, roll over, lick, suck, spread, present—rewarding hir by using the wand to bring hir to another yelping, whimpering orgasm. Or using their fingers. Or cock. Whatever the technician thought was best. Terrier wasn’t picky. When they weren’t using hir cunt they kept it locked away with a cage attached to a harness that wrapped around hir waist, so sie couldn’t get hirself off, even by humping hir hands as hard and desperately as sie could. The orgasms that sie was allowed were both a treat and a relief from the desperate arousal that coursed through hir body. Sie truly felt like sie was in heat.

Every orgasm sie was granted was accompanied by the sound of a clicker and followed by a pat on the head and a good boy. Once the association between clicker and pleasure had been firmly established in hir mind, they started using only the clicker to train hir. Just the sound of it was enough to make hir cunt drip with Pavlovian arousal, and the withholding of orgasms for only very special occasions made hir even more desperately eager to please.

There was almost nothing left of Terrier, the person, when the good people at Violation, Inc. were done. Only as promised, a slutty little puppyboy in heat. Sie slept in a crate, ate food and water from bowls on the ground, and would obey any command for the promise of praise and orgasms. Sie even had a collar with hir new name on the tag. They’d trained hir to recognize it, made hir cum over and over again until Tobi Lee and Terrier were meaningless words to hir, and Fuckpuppy was all sie responded to. Sie was ready to climb into a crate, to be packed away and shipped to hir new owner.

Back in the alley where Terrier was captured, Nightwytch closed a chalk circle on the pavement, completing the sigil, and her spell sprang to life. Whispers and images started flooding into her head. Tracking the spot down had been easy—just follow the trail of destruction and bullet casings. Whoever had taken hir after that had been great at covering their tracks. But they clearly weren’t used to dealing with magic. Nightwytch knelt over the magic circle, propping herself up with her cane in one hand as she adjusted the sigils, refining the signal. The key component of the tracking spell—a deeply personal belonging—lay at the center of the circle. Nightwytch hoped Terrier didn’t mind that she’d borrowed hir vibrator. She was in a rush, and it was the first thing she could think of to grab, and if the orgasms she heard through the walls were any indicator, it was a deeply personal belonging. Terrier might be a pain in the ass sometimes, but sie was Nightwytch’s friend. And, more importantly, her roommate. Sie still owed hir half of the month’s rent.

There were flashes of a lab coat, of an ID badge with something written on it—Violation, Inc. Nightwytch shuddered, remembering what they’d done to Toxina. She’d run into her once after. Nightwytch couldn’t stop thinking about the encounter. The worst part was that thinking about it had given Nightwytch several fetishes she didn’t know even existed before...

She closed her eyes. Concentrate. There was a truck. A phone call. A collar. The voice on the phone was arranging delivery. A cheerful voice. The one on the other end was gravelly, cigarette-rich.

Speed Queen.

Nightwytch leaned into her cane and stood up, pocketing the vibrator in her coat and rubbing out the chalk circle with her shoe. This was going to be a challenge...