The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Chapter 4: M.Y.N.D.C.T.R.L. Pictures

Tricia stopped the car by the side of the road several blocks from the commercial district and a good kilometer from the studio converted warehouse. A half eclipsed moon shone weakly in the clear night sky.

Turning off the engine, she exited the car with a worried frown. A warm, slight breeze blew through her hair. This wasn’t going to be easy, she thought, but hey, I am Sunburst. She smiled at her own ego.

A quick look around and then a short jog brought her to a small copse of dense trees behind the nearest darkened factory. Tricia stopped and looked around for anyone or any security cameras. Satisfied, she stood proudly, a look of concentration on her face. Holding her arms before her, she clasped her hands tightly together.

Then, slowly, her clasped hands pushed apart. Between her now seperated palms a ball of yellow light spun rapidly, small tendrils of white smoke encircling it. With her eyes locked on the spinning orb of light, it began to spin faster and faster.

A second later the tendrils of smoke burst from the orb, encircling her in a hazy smoke. Then, silently, the orb exploded, its light engulfing her.

As the blinding flash receded, Sunburst appeared in Tricia’s place, standing proudly with hands on hips. Sunburst—a blonde teenage beauty beyond comparison. A perfect, full nubile figure of womanhood emphasized by her super heroine attire.

Her skin-tight costume consisted of a gold spandex top without sleeves and a large v-shaped plunging neckline, showing the ample cleavage of her full natural breasts. Small silver stars were sprinkled irratically on the fabric.

A wide shiny, gold belt with her magical lasso was attached off centre on her left side. It was the power belt that increased her already mighty amazon strength. Silver spandex shorts were flush against her body, curving up at the sides, revealing a lot more of her smooth legs. Almost knee high leather-like gold boots had replaced her shoes. Her uniform was finished by a small gold mask that surrounded her eyes and strung back behind her ears.

Although her shapely arms and legs seemed toned, they certainly didn’t appearing to be any match for a man. But this was the common misconception of all evil doers. Tricia, an amazon from the hidden tropical Paradise Isle, was stronger than most men without her belt. And with it, stronger than they could ever dream of being.

Her breasts bouncing up and down, she raced along the kilometer between the factories, running without tiring. Her long, ample legs propelled the heroine quickly to the warehouse.

A large, nondescript metal building stood three stories high. Ugly yellow siding started half the way up its windowed exterior. A large empty parking lot opened into the complex of “M.Y.N.D.C.T.R.L. Pictures, Ltd.”

Sunburst cautiously darted up to the side of the building, avoiding the street lights and the building’s flood lights. Moving carefully, and almost soundlessly, she crept up to a side door. She could just see traces of the light within trickling out against the door frame, and also at a truck docking door adjacent to it. Parked there, with its back end to the closed docking door, was a small black van with mirrored windows.

She looked around for a means of entry, and then up. Above her, far out of reach, she could see a fire ladder.

Standing back, she breathed in deeply, then bending at the knees jumped up an incredible ten meters landing halfway up the ladder. A perfect landing, the ladder barely groaned when her weight hit it. Steadying herself, she proceeded to quickly climb to the roof.

Not much here, she noticed. A large satellite dish, various box like protrusions and tubes sprinkled about. Spying a roof entry hatch, she walked carefully over and bent down.

A small tug proved it to be, as expected, locked from within; and probably attached to an alarm. Forcing it was out of the question.

She looked around again. The few air vents were impossibly small. Just then she heard the creak of a door opening and ran to the edge of the roof.

A woman with long, straight blond hair and a red and white horizontal stripped T-shirt was standing in the doorway. She had propped it open with a box and was turning around to retrieve another box. Then she walked out to the van with it.

Sunburst quickly turned around and back stepped onto the ladder. Moving down only a few steps, she stopped and looked downward.

The woman had put down the box by the van’s sliding side door, and was swinging it open. Luckily, her back was towards Sunburst and the building’s opened door was between them.

Sunburst opened her hand hold on the ladder and tightly placed her boots on the outside edge of the laddery. Her hands burned as she slid down the ladder, making a sharp squeal as her boots slid along the steel.

With a last whoosh the ladder finished and she fell behind the opened door, landing in a crouched position and then standing up slowly in its cover.

Past the door she could hear the woman frantically exiting the van, obviously wondering what had just fallen off the roof. Sunburst untied her magical lasso, readying it as the woman cautiously peered around the door.

With a quick toss of the lasso she entrapped the woman and drew her towards her. Catching the woman off guard, Sunburst turned and shoved her to the brick wall. Her surprised victim struggled violently, her strength great, but she almost immediately stopped. A calm, glassy relaxed look emanated from her blue eyes as her body went limp against the building.

Sunburst stood back and quickly popped her head around the door, looking down a dark deserted carpeted hallway. She turned back to the woman. Under the strong influence of her magical lasso she would submit easily to her questions and orders.

“Is anyone else helping you load the van?” asked Sunburst.

“No,” she said honestly without resistance.

“What is your name and who do you work for? Who else is here right now?”

“My name if Faith Schnider. I’m assistant director here at M.Y.N.D.C.T.R.L. Pictures. My boss is Cynthia Emerald.” She stopped and thought for a moment. “There’s five of us here. Cynthia as well as two guards and the janitor.” She appeared about to say something more.

“And?” Sunburst prodded, gripping the lasso tightly about Faith.

“And,” she stumbled. Her brows furrowed in resistance and then suddenly relaxed, the magical lasso dissolving her willpower and forcing her on. “Rachel will be back soon with the other van. She left to get some take out.”

Sunburst took a stab in the dark. “Tell me everything you know about the criminal the emerald lady and her plans.”

“The emerald lady also goes under the name Cynthia Emerald, but that’s not her real name either. Everyone just calls her Emerald. She hired us, all with criminal backgrounds, to help start a company to produce mind control movies and videos. With her it was easy to access the funds and technology, but the last pieces are just falling into place now. Filming of the shows is long completed. Now we just have to adapt the technology and add the perfected hypnotic conditioning sequences. Once that’s complete they’ll be syndicated around the country. Eventually the world. The videos are designed to reshape the minds of the viewer, particularly the youth, to create a world where Emerald rules.”

“Great,” Sunburst shook her head, “another megalomaniac bent on world domination. Come on.”

She peeked around the door and then led Faith to the van. “Get in.”

They sat in the plush interior. The back seat was crowded with boxes and equipment. In the middle seat, Tricia turned to face her captive. “It’s time to sleep now, you know that, don’t you?” she asked nicely.

Faith looked at her puzzled, then a weight suddenly fell down on her as Sunburst tightly gripped the lasso constraining her. Her head lilted to one side as her body sagged against the seat. A soft “yes” escaping her sleeping lips.

Sunburst undid her magical lasso, and coiling it back up attached it to her belt again. A brief search of the van’s contents produced a long computer cable which she bound Faith to the seat with.

She turned back to the boxes, opening and scanning each quickly. Videotapes. An IBM. Some bottles. She picked up one of the brown, drink sized bottles and read it aloud. “Chloroform?” She eyed the blonde and then the bottle again. “I wonder if this is safe.” She peered back in the box and extracted a handful of thin, white filter masks with rubber straps, like the ones used by people working with fiber glass. Unscrewing the bottle carefully, she lifted it up her nose and sniffed experimently. The sweet odour caused her to catch her breath and she drew back coughing slightly.

Quickly she soaked the mask. Closing the bottle, she tucked it into her belt along with another mask. Then she moved back over to the dozing blonde and firmly placed the mask up to the blonde’s peaceful face, covering her mouth and nose. The blonde groaned quietly, her eyes moving slowly beneath their lids as she coughed slightly, breathing in the heady fumes.

Another groan died in the woman’s throat as she fell deeper into the lands of slumber. Her breathing became regular again. Sunburst lifted the straps of the mask over the blonde’s head and secured them in place.

Stepping out of the van Sunburst shut the door with a controlled slam. She paused to adjust her hair and belt, making sure she looked right. Then walked decisively toward the building, her arms pumping slightly as she approached the door.

No sooner had she entered the hallway, then she heard walking sounds coming from one of the perpendicular hallways. Kicking the box outside, she shut the door quietly, then ducked into the room directly to her left.

Finding herself in the ladies washroom. She turned as the door closed and waited beside it.

The foot falls soon faded. Quietly she pulled the door open just enough to peek down the corridor. Empty. A perpendicular one extended a few meters past the door where the person had come from. He or she must have turned right and went straight down the corridor deeper into the complex.

She was about to open the door and leave when a hand landed on her shoulder. Her attacker’s forearm snaked around and forced itself against her throat. The forearm locked in place as the attacker’s other hand met it, attempting to strangle her.

She staggered back and could see her assailant in the washroom mirror. A woman, one of the security guards Faith mentioned, dressed in an official blue cop style shirt and black pants. She was smaller, and thinner than Sunburst. The dark haired Oriental’s face was screwed up with the effort of applying her hold.

Sunburst regained her composure, straightened, much to the chagrin of her assailant, and ripped the offending arm free. In the same movement Sunburst spun around and slugged her into the next century.

The guard flopped backward, arms and legs trailing her as she slammed hard into the tiled floor meters away. Lying on her back, she groaned painfully and started to push herself up, but then collapsed back onto the ground. She reached up and held her head, trying to gather her senses together.

Sunburst confidently walked over, and as she did she pulled out the chloroform bottle and mask. Smiling, she opened the bottle and emptied its contents into the mask. Finished, she chucked it nonchalantly into the nearby garbage bin.

Standing over the guard, Sunburst dropped down to her knees, straddling the woman’s midsection. The oriental looked up in surprise, her eyes mere slits under the pain. Her short black hair clenched tightly between her fists. Realizing Sunburst was on top of her, she growled out, “Get off me you, bit-MMMFFFPH!”

Sunburst had quickly forced the dripping mask over the guard’s face. Her eyes blasted wide open in panic, the chloroform smell hitting her instantly. One hand reached over and grabbed hold of Sunburst’s wrists, the other reached up and pulled at her arm.

Both actions proved futile, as Sunburst held firm against the weak strength of the guard. Beneath Sunburst, the guard suddenly began kicking and squirming furiously. Her head twisted from side to side in vain, loud moaning escaping the mask—her hips gyrating in vain.

Sunburst smiled as the guard’s thrashing jirkingly slowed. Her actions had ensured that she was deeply inhaling the anesthetic. Already her eyelids wavered. Her eyes unfocused as she battled unconsciousness.

The guard stopped struggling momentarily, just on the edge of sleep. Then her eyes widened as her body convulsed and her head tilted back. As her eyes sunk slowly closed, her arms flopped to the ground and her tense body all at once relaxed.

Sunburst held the mask in place a moment longer, then lifted the guard’s head and pulled the mask’s straps back over her head and into place around her ears.

Then she leaned over and checked the woman’s pulse. Okay. She stood back up and returned to the door.

After peeking out to check if her skirmish had been overheard, she raced back to the drugged guard. A quick spin, and the brunette university student Tricia Paradise stood in the washroom. Taking off her clothes, she placed them in the trash can, and then buried them with some disposable paper towels.

Standing in her bra and panties, she quickly stripped the guard and donned her uniform. The security outfit was far two tight for her, crushing her breasts painfully against her chest and far too tight around her hips. But it would have to do. No one would mistake her for the Chinese woman, but from afar it might let her get a drop on her opponents. It depended on what the other security guard looked like.

Hauling the unconscious woman into a toilet, she adjusted her on the seat. Then shut the door and locked it, and scrambled out under it.

She ran back to the exit and, after peeking out again, Patricia was out into the hallway.

Turning left and walking down the hallway she surveyed the name plates on the doors as she past them. Mostly executive and public relation offices. Reaching the end of the hall, she found herself at a three way junction. The parallel hallway branched off to her left and right. To the right it ended at a large fire door. The other way it extended far along with periodic doors and hallways branching off.

A faint voice drifted down from the left one. “Okay, this way,” Patricia said quietly as she turned left toward the voice and crept slowly along the corridor.

She arrived at a large open doorway. The brighter light from inside the room contrasted sharply with the dimmer hallway light. Fortunately, she was able to move silently in her sneakers rather than if she had been wearing Sunburst’s boots. So she had reached the door, hopefully, unheard.

Carefully she looked around into the bright room. A large expansive lounge area opened up. Various tables and couches occupied the centre. She slid along into the doorway against the cool brick wall, hearing the voice again, but it was not yet intelligible.

Peering into the left and then the right side she had a good view. At the far right side, the villainess Emerald sat in full costume by another door; cape, mask, gloves and all. She typed at a lap top computer, staring intently at the tilted LCD screen. “Yes, everything is going according to plan,” she said as she typed her message on the keyboard. Tricia could see the telephone cable attached to the computer.

Near Emerald, the other door led out of the room, and on the far opposite side of the room another door led out that way. Both open. Finally, at the far side of the room from Tricia, there were two closed doors spaced equally apart. The left one with a small glass window set in it; only darkness could be seen within it, the light of the brighter room reflected off it.

Then from the opposite door from Emerald, Tricia heard the sounds of someone approaching and shrank back behind the door’s frame.

A young brunette woman, perhaps sixteen, walked casually through the doorway with a blissful, drugged expression plastered across her face. She was dressed in a complete McHamBurger’s outfit. She also wore a Walkman on her belt, the buds of the little earphones in her ears.

Behind her, one of the black clad masked female cat burglars held out a hand guiding the drugged girl into the room. As they crossed past Tricia’s position, Tricia switched to the opposite side of the door for better cover.

When they were a few feet from Emerald, the cat burglar reached up and placed a restraining hand on the girl’s shoulder. The young lady stopped with an uncaring smile on her face, lost in a world of her own. She had a relaxed posture, but her long eyelashes were unwavering. She stared blindly ahead.

Emerald swiveled in her chair to face the two of them. “Marvelous, I see you got take out,” she smiled, her mouth open slightly she ran her tongue along her teeth, “exactly what I was hungrily for.”

[End Chapter 4]