The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Femdom Mind Control Flash Fiction

by S.B.

All Aboard!

General Rupert Hayes stepped out of the elevator and traversed the sterile corridors of the underground base until he reached Conference Room 3 where she sat in waiting, feet dangling to the rhythm of a music only she was hearing. Each subtle motion was more mesmerizing than the previous one, a dangerous proposition for any man that happened to let his gaze wander, let alone one prone to heart conditions. He felt his composure trying to run away from him the moment he saw her but quickly pulled it back in, tucking it behind the suit of medals he so proudly wore, before making his presence known.

“Alexandra?” He said, his voice trembling.

“Yes, General?” Agent 47-D rotated her chair, batting her impossibly curved eyelashes. If the flap of a butterfly’s wings can cause a hurricane on the other end of the world, then what to say of that simple gesture and its consequences for the known universe as a whole? The General felt the beads of sweat accumulating on his forehead as her hazelnut eyes became the center of his world.

“First of all, thank you for coming on such short notice,” he muttered.

“I had to. You’re the boss, remember?” She winked.

Yes, he was, formally at least but everyone in the organization knew that, when it came to actual hierarchies, the hypnotic secret agent was always on top. She raised her long legs up high and stretched them on the glass table. The General laid down the folders he was carrying and looked away.

“So...” he began. “... about your last mission in Prague...”

“Lovely city,” Alexandra smirked. “I should visit more often.”

“That won’t be possible,” he continued, eyes cast down.

She tapped her feet on the corner of the table.

“Oh? You know as well as I do the Ambassador had it coming.”

“Perhaps, but the Metro didn’t.”

“Just a small detail...” she laughed out loud. “Small, indeed.”

The General sighed as the movie of events prior flashed before his eyes. Two weeks earlier, he had sent Alexandra to Prague to rendezvous with a person of interest who claimed to have information on a possible bombing to happen soon. Normally, institutions like the one she represented stayed clear of such affairs, but an old friend of the General had issued a formal request, and he had obliged. Upon reaching the city, Agent 47-D met with the contact, learned all the implications of the imminent threat and began a series of investigations to determine the truth before it was too late.

Seventeen hypnotized subjects and an explosion later, American Ambassador Jared Green was found responsible for the planning of the hit. His motives were nebulous but the audacity of targeting all three lines of the fifth busiest metro system in Europe didn’t sit well with her, so she took him for a ride.

It is doubtful that anyone that saw the naked man strapped to the front of the composition, jerking off mindlessly in the hope of a pleasurable explosion forever delayed, will ever forget the fact. The media will make sure of that, especially because the first video evidence of it went viral in a flash.

“Eighty-six million visualizations already,” The General remarked. As he turned to face her once again, she was playing with her smartphone, the familiar sounds and images emerging from it in a scandalous symphony.

“It will be eighty-seven when I’m done,” she concluded, no remorse whatsoever.

“Yes, well... despite the formal ‘thank you’ we received from the Czech Government, I’m afraid you’re persona non grata now. As if Malta, Portugal, and Germany weren’t enough...” he sighed again.

“Europe is a big place and I’m sure they’ll come around, eventually.”

“Is it too much to ask you to keep a low profile on your next assignment, please?”

“No, you may ask...” she adjusted her legs, giving him a perfect view of what hid underneath her leather micro-skirt.

“What happened to ‘I’m the boss’, Alexandra?”

“You hired me to do your dirty work for you, that’s what happened. So where am I headed next? Is it Austria? Tell me it’s Austria. I’m in the mood for some glacier ski right now.”

“Jerusalem is calling,” he tossed a folder her way, “but try not to turn the Wailing Wall into the Wanking Wall while you’re there, okay?”

Her eyes glimmered under the halogen lamps and he regretted his words on the spot.