The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It was with a righteous fury that the superhero Violet Angel tore through the hapless goons in the warehouse. Wave after wave of white-clad minions charged her, but each was dispatched with a well placed series of punches, kicks and throws. She was truly in her element, although as she ducked under an errant laser blast Violet Angel couldn’t help but think that this hero stuff would be so much easier if she had actual superpowers.

But she was determined not to let that hold her back, which she proved as she took out the minion holding the laser rifle on his shoulder. He went down with a single kick, and the laser rifle snapped in half simply by crashing it down against her knee. It didn’t surprise her that the weaponry here was flimsy and disposable: that just made it better business for Madame Blanc, since she was the source of most of the supervillain tech in the country.

Madame Blanc was the kind of villain that Violet Angel hated most: the kind who never went out to commit crimes themselves and yet were responsible for most of the chaos that superheroes had to deal with. Madame Blanc might not be robbing banks herself, but she’s more than happy to supply every wackjob villain wannabe with jet packs and robots and the shittily constructed laser rifles. Most heroes didn’t even know about Madame Blanc, and those who did simply let her operate. More villains of the week to take down meant more press coverage for them, but Violet Angel was tired of letting a broken system play out.

So she’d worked tirelessly to track down Madame Blanc’s base, and now her hard work was paying off. It truly felt like a victory lap, especially with how Violet Angel was taking down all of Blanc’s henchmen with surprising ease. The weapons dealer must think herself untouchable if her security was this bad.

Soon she’d have Blanc in cuffs. Then there’d be no more wannabes buying their way into superpowers and high-tech gear. They’d have to work for it, just like she did. All of Violet Angel’s skills were hard earned and Madame Blanc was about to get an up close demonstration of just what the hero could do.

She walked past the piles of unconscious goons and charged up a flight of stairs to the office for the big final fight. A powerful kick sent the door crashing off its hinges. And there stood the villain herself, wearing a cocky grin as if she wasn’t about to get her ass kicked.

This was the first time the hero had gotten an actual look at Madame Blanc and she had to give it to the villain, she certainly knew how to stick to a theme. The Madame wore an impeccably stylish all white suit, which at a glance didn’t seem to contain any guns or weapons. Even her hair was a stark white, cut short and styled to the side. Her face was gorgeous, something Violet Angel couldn’t help but notice. All sharp lines like she was chiseled from a glacier. Even her lips were adorned with bright white lipstick. And right now those white lips were pulled back into a friendly smile.

“Could I get you a drink?” Blanc tilted her head towards a bar against the wall of the office. “I bet you’d enjoy—”

Violet Angel cut her off, aiming a purple gloved finger at her and shouting, “Your evil work is at an end, Madame Blanc!”

It was satisfying watching Blanc’s smile vanish. “Well I was hoping we could be civil about this.”

“Be civil with a tacky villain like you?”

Madame Blanc’s white eyebrows creased together. “I am NOT tacky.”

Prideful. Certainly a weakness in most villains.

“Puh-lease. Wearing all white? Really?”

“You’re one to talk wearing purple head to toe.”

Violet Angel blushed deeply. She was so used to her purple tights and mask that she forgot about her own color scheme. She’d even dyed her hair purple and been so proud of how it looked on her.

“Well, I’m Violet Angel so- This isn’t about me,” she snapped, brushing her long violet hair over her shoulder and out of sight. “You’re the one who sells doomsday weapons to dangerous villains. And I’m the one putting a stop to it.”

“First of all, I’d never sell a ‘doomsday weapon,’” she said, actually making air quotes. “If some idiot blows up the world then I’m out of the job. And dead. Much more profitable to sell dangerous gear to five villains who want to conquer the world and watch them duke it out. Every time their gear breaks, they come right back to me with their wallets open.”

“Don’t you care about the people you hurt?”

“Ugh, we’re already at this part. Can we skip it? It gets so old trying to explain the military industrial complex to you fresh heroes.”

“Well how about you explain it to my fists!”

Okay, it wasn’t her best line, but Violet Angel was getting sick of how relaxed Blanc was, as if she’s done this a dozen times already and had already mentally checked out. She wasn’t going to be disregarded by a villain like that. So Violet Angel leapt forward, fist cocked back, and Madame Blanc just stood there with her eyes widening in surprise, completely caught off guard.

A bright white flash struck Violet Angel’s eyes.

She stumbled back, blinking in confusion. Where was she?

Her eyes settled on Madame Blanc. Everything slowly drifted back to her. Violet Angel clenched her fists.

“Madame Blanc! Your evil plans have come to an—”

Another flash of white light.

“To an… what was I- Madame Blanc! You—”

A blinding flash of light.

“You- you…” She blinked and saw a gorgeous woman dressed in all white. “Who are you? I… I know you…”

There was a flash of light. And another. And another.

Violet Angel blinked slowly. As each flash played over her face her expression continued to relax. Her arms fell limp to her sides. She wanted to say something, but a blinding flash scattered her thoughts so she just left her mouth hanging open. A few more bright flashes hit her, but Violet Angel had no reaction to them. It was like she’d left her body altogether. Her mind too. She was somewhere else, watching. Somewhere comfy and warm and white. She snuggled into the sensation, watching the girl in the purple tights who looked like her and the other woman in white. Madame Blanc. Not that the name meant anything to her now.

Madame Blanc crossed her arms. “That should take care of you. Are you blank and suggestible?”

Was she? Violet Angel didn’t know. In the white place she couldn’t really think well enough to consider the question. But then her lips moved on their own to say, “I am blank and suggestible.”

Oh. Well that answered that.

“Good girl. Stay still in place there, only able to speak. What was your name again?”

“Valerie Vaughn.”

Madame Blanc chuckled and shook her head. “No dear, your hero name. Also always address me as Madame Blanc, or just Madame if you prefer.”

“My hero name is Violet Angel, Madame.”

“There we go.” Madame Blanc walked over and began casually inspecting her. Violet Angel was aware of the other woman poking and prodding, trailing her fingers over her body, and yet she just felt so detached. She couldn’t feel the actual pokes and prods, but a subtle rush of pleasure did run through Violet Angel from the simple fact that she was being touched by someone so pretty. Violet Angel felt herself getting turned on and wanted to ask Madame Blanc to touch her pussy, but didn’t have the willpower left to articulate her thoughts. Sadly Madame Blanc didn’t touch her pussy. Just threw an arm over her shoulders and rested her head against Violet Angel’s shoulder.

“You’re quite the troublemaker, aren’t you? Does anyone else know you’re here?”

“No, Madame.”

“And do you have any evidence of my operation?”

“Some files and pictures, Madame.”

“Well that won’t do. When you leave here you’ll destroy all your evidence, and forget where you found any of it.”

Violet Angel nodded. “Yes, Madame.” It felt so strange, agreeing to destroy weeks of work. But she’d do it, obviously. Why wouldn’t she obey Madame Blanc?

“Also, once you leave you’ll forget where my warehouse is completely.”

“Yes, Madame.”

“But a determined girl like you will just try to track me down again, I’m sure. I could simply order you to leave me alone, but that would be the boring way out. I think it’d be much more interesting if I gave you… a new hobby. Yes, something to occupy your time. Would you like a new hobby to occupy your time, Violet Angel?”

“Yes, Madame.”

Madame Blanc slid around her, so that she was looking Violet Angel in the eyes. She was tapping her chin, considering what to do next. Violet Angel just stood still and didn’t think. She watched as Madame Blanc turned her head to the side, and her eyes and smile both went wide with joy.

“Ooh. This should be interesting.”

Violet Angel couldn’t turn her head to see what was interesting, so she had to wait until Madame Blanc took hold of her chin and swiveled her head to the left. Now she could see the other end of the office. A cluttered desk. Some books on a shelf. A calender.

“Look at the calender and tell me what you see.”

She focused on the calender, let it take up all of her attention. “There are boxes with numbers set in a grid.”

“Above that,” Madame Blanc instructed with a sigh.

Violet Angel’s eyes slid up and saw a pinup picture of a woman. She focused completely, let the pinup make up her entire world. “There is a woman on a motorcycle. She is wearing slutty clothes.”

“More details,” Blanc urged. She began pushing Violet Angel forward, leading her closer.

“She’s wearing a short denim skirt. A leather vest and nothing under it. Her tits are almost out. She has on long black boots. Her hair is sexy and messed up. She’s smirking. She’s very hot.”

“How would you describe that kind of girl?”

“A biker,” she answered flatly.

“I think you mean a sexy, biker babe.”

“Yes, Madame,” Violet Angel replied, the words replacing her thoughts. “She is a sexy, biker babe.”

“Violet, you now want nothing more than to be a sexy, biker babe. A butch, biker slut. An absolute badgirl.”

Just a few simple words and Violet Angel’s entire reality shifted. Nothing mattered now except becoming a sexy biker babe. She’d do whatever it took to be a butch, biker slut. It was her purpose now to be an absolute badgirl.

“But listen to my words,” Blanc commanded, and Violet Angel’s mind rippled. She opened herself, ready to obey. “This command is absolute. You will only change yourself in ways that your normal, rational self is complete comfortable with.”

Violet Angel frowned. She had already been primed to change her life completely. To erase her old self to become a sexy, biker babe. But now she felt those impulses crumbling. She didn’t truly want to change, and she felt now the realization that she wouldn’t. She’d remain her normal self.

She must have showed some concern, because Madame Blanc ran a soothing hand through her purple hair. “Are you frustrated by that command?”

“Yes, Madame.”

“Tell me why.”

“Because I was ready to become a sexy, biker babe. But your command won’t let me change.”

“You’ll be surprised, dear. You might not root up your entire life, but maybe there’s a part of you that’s ready to mix things up. Perhaps you really won’t change at all. Stay this do-gooder hero, and eventually come back after me. Or maybe you’ll start to notice some new urges. Maybe you’ll want to dress different. Act different. Be different. You’re only going to be changed as far as you truly want to. And that’s my favorite part.”

Suddenly a pair of lips were pressed to her cheek in a kiss. Violet Angel felt herself thrill at Madame Blanc’s touch.

“Every new outfit you buy will be because you truly want it. Every time you’d rather be bad than do good is because some part of you agrees with it. Every drink you drink, every punch you throw, every person you fuck will be because you’re ready to be a hard-drinking, hard fucking biker babe.”

Violet Angel wanted it. She wanted to be bad. She wanted to be a slut. She wanted to be a biker babe for Madame Blanc.

But she knew herself. It was doomed to fail, and that broke her heart.

“I see you’re doubtful, so sleep on it. Leave, and take care of the things I told you to. And we’ll see just how you decide to live your life from now on.”

“Yes, Madame Blanc.”

With that Violet Angel turned stiffly and marched out of the office. She marched past the bruised and battered henchmen, already picking themselves up and getting back to work. She marched out of the warehouse and forgot it was there. She marched back home and destroyed all the evidence she’d gathered, and forgot the few contacts she’d found that were willing to tell her everything. She remembered Madame Blanc, and her urge to bring her to justice still. As well as the more powerful urge to be a badass biker slut.

But all Violet Angel cared about was when she looked in the mirror and saw a white lipstick kiss-mark on her cheek. She stroked her fingers over it and smiled. Then went into bed and dreamed of being a wild punk, riding through town causing mayhem and fucking every cute biker chick that caught her eye. And Madame Blanc grinning down at her from a crystalline white throne. It was a wonderful dream. But Violet Angel knew it wouldn’t ever come true.

She knew who she was, after all.

The next day Val hung up her Violet Angel costume with a chuckle. Had Madame Blanc really expected her to change? She had to admit, it was embarrassing that the villain had gotten the jump on her. Val wasn’t a stranger to mind control, most superheroes got healthy doses of it in their career, but there had been something deeply engrossing about the trance Blanc had put her in.

Just remembering that detached, relaxed feeling made Val light headed. Her toes curled as a smile came to her face. That image of herself as a shameless biker slut was burned into her mind in purple neon light.

But Val easily shrugged off the idea. Of course she didn’t want to change who she was. She was a hero, dammit. Always putting herself before others. She wasn’t going to turn into some slutty bad girl.

And yet the desire lingered in the back of her mind, like a bad itch. It was hot, she’d admit it, but only because it was so the opposite of who Val really was. The fantasy of being transformed utterly was scary yet fascinating, except that wasn’t the case. Blanc herself said that Val wouldn’t change if she didn’t want to. So she wouldn’t.

That issue was settled, but Val was still left with the aftermath of her failed mission. She crossed her arms and frowned at her wall, which was riddled with pins that held nothing, connected by red string that had no significance that she could remember. Val had tracked Blanc down, only she’d been forced to destroy every shred of evidence she’d gathered. Worse, Val couldn’t even remember where she’d gone searching for clues or who she’d contacted. Her mind was a white board that had been wiped clean. Nothing but white. Pure, stark, beautiful blank white.

Val felt herself tilting, her eyes losing focus as the memory of the trance called to her. But she shook her head and snapped out of it.

“I’ll just have to start all over.” Val wanted to sound determined and valiant, but even she heard the exhaustion in her voice. So much work for nothing. And no guarantee that tracking Blanc down again would end any different. For all she knew she might charge in as Violet Angel and end up mindlessly entranced by… whatever it was Blanc had used on her. She couldn’t even recall what had been used to drop her into trance, so it wasn’t like she was any more prepared for a second confrontation.

She could just picture herself in her Violet Angel tights, drooling and hypnotized as Blanc circled her and laughed. Calling her pathetic and weak and all sorts of degrading names. Groping at her still form. Playing with Val’s tights, and rubbing at her pussy, and telling her that this time she really would change her, twist the hero into a slutty biker who’d happily serve her. Ordering Val to her knees as she corrupted her mind, before straddling Val’s face and ordering her biker slut to eat her pussy, to submit completely and-

Val screamed in surprise as her phone rang. She stumbled back, looking around in a disoriented panic as she tried to remember where she was. Where Blanc went.

Except Blanc wasn’t there. She was in her apartment. Back in her normal, ordinary clothes. And her hand down the front of her pants.

Val drew her hand back and gaped at her soaked fingertips, wondering why her hand would betray her like this. She’d just gotten caught up in her imagination, that was all. What she needed was a break. Forget about being Violet Angel for a bit, and stop thinking about the sexy Madame Blanc in her stupid sexy white suit.

Val shook her head and remembered the phone. She picked it up, using the hand that didn’t reek of her pussy, and was pleasantly pleased to hear her friend Yun-hee’s voice. She had workplace gossip to share, and Val would love nothing more than a chance to drink and not worry about supervillains for a bit.

She washed her hands and changed her clothes, dressing up to go out. Val was almost out the door when she paused and studied herself in the mirror. She’d dressed casually: some nice jeans, a white blouse with a sweater over it. Though the sweater was a little baggy, hiding her figure. Val was embarrassed enough parading around in her tights, so she usually liked to hide herself away when going out as her normal self. But something nagged at her. She plucked at the sweater and frowned, before tossing it overhead. Just a white blouse and jeans. Val smiled. That looked better. Made her look cute, even.

Only… she could look hot, if she wanted. Val’s eyes darted to her closet. She chewed on her lip. Then raced over to the closet and began digging through it for what she needed. Nothing wrong with her wanting to look hot, right?

“Oh my god, Val! That jacket looks awesome!”

Val blushed, rubbing a nervous hand at her arm. The polished purple leather jacket felt cool and slick under her fingers. “I bought it months ago, but never had the nerve to wear it.”

“You’ve been sitting on that for months?” Yun-hee rolled her eyes. “Do you have any idea how hot you look in that?”

She eyed herself in the mirror, a smile tugging at her lips. Val did look hot in the leather jacket. Why had she ever felt self-conscious about wearing it before? If it made her look hot, then she should just go ahead and wear it. Val wanted to look hot, after all. And leather made everyone look hot.

Her confidence only grew as she and Yun-hee spent the next three hours drinking and laughing, with Val getting drunk on the constant compliments that Yun-hee showered her with. Also drunk on the numerous beers she was gulping down. Typically she was a light weight, but some voice cheered her on from the back of her mind, telling her that she can definitely handle another beer. That was strange too; usually Val preferred more sweet cocktails, like Yun-hee was drinking. But tonight Val had been ordering bottled beer without hesitation.

Val belched and blushed, while Yun-hee gave her a disbelieving stare. “Geez, what’s gotten into you Val? You’re drinking like a frat boy tonight.”

“No clue,” Val muttered, still swimming on a happy buzz. “I just… feel good.”

Yun-hee rolled her eyes and laughed. “Wow, wear a leather jacket for one night and suddenly you think you’re a badass.”

“Hey.” Val leveled a finger at her friend and grinned. “I am totally a badass.”

“No arguments here.” She clinked her cocktail with Val’s beer bottle. Then Yun-hee’s eyes drifted to the bar and she broke out into a smirk. “If you wanna see a real badass check out the chick at the bar.”

Val glanced over and felt her heart freeze in her chest. There was no mistaking who Yun-hee was talking about. The chick was leaning against the bar, squeezed into tight black leather pants. She wore a tight black corset, and her head was shaved bald. Val stared at her so hard she thought her eyes must be bugging out of her head.

Everything about the woman screamed to Val like a siren beckoning her to the cliffs. The black leather. The amount of skin she showed off without a care. The tattoos adorning her arms and back. A tramp stamp on the small of her back. The sheer confidence she possessed in such a slutty outfit.

Val wanted to touch her. To taste her. To be her.

She jumped to her feet, knocking her chair over. Val couldn’t catch her breath. Her blood was pounding so loud it drowned out the music in the bar. It played a frantic, blaring beat in time with the pulsing need in her clit. A hand landed on her arm and Val flinched, only to see Yun-hee’s concerned expression.

“Val, are you alright?”

“I- I need to go.”

“What? Why?” But Val was already running past, shoving through a crowd who cursed angrily at her but she didn’t care. Had to get out. Had to get away from her. Val burst through the door and sucked in a cold breath of air. The night air felt wonderful on her burning skin. It let Val relax, the panic starting to slip away. Until she glanced over and saw the motorcycle. Val didn’t know the first thing about motorcycle brands or styles. All she knew was that it was sleek, and loud, and powerful, and she wanted to wrap her legs around it and rev it up and let out an animal shriek of lust.

Staring at that motorcycle filled her with as much panic and need as staring at the badass bald chick.

Val ran off in the other direction, ignoring Yun-hee as her friend shouted after her.

Val purred along with the powerful vibrations between her legs. She straddled the motorcycle and clung to the biker chick. Her fingers caressed the girl’s hard muscles as they rode into the night. Val didn’t know anything about who the woman was. Only that she was a biker. That the biker was powerful and clad in black leather, a styled Mohawk on her head. Just gazing at her made Val want to drool with need.

They were racing down some highway, Val didn’t even know where. Alien scenery flew past, and there was nothing keeping Val safe. Nothing except the biker she clung to, and the masterful way she controlled the motorcycle beneath them.

The biker glanced back and smirked at her. She knew how wet Val was. Had already had her fill of using Val’s mouth back in the bar where they’d met. It was like she’d recognized Val on sight for what she was. A slut for bikers. Val had happily let herself be dragged into the backroom and let the muscular butch biker do whatever she craved. And then she’d naturally followed her back to her bike and rode bitch behind her.

No more worries about being a hero. No more having to worry about Madame Blanc or anything else. She could just be a happy slut. Existing just for the road and for pleasing whatever sexy biker woman wanted to take her for the night.

Val was moaning, grinding against the woman’s back. She was naked now. Couldn’t even remember her clothes being stripped away. It didn’t matter. She was a biker slut. All she needed was to ride and be ridden and give pleasure and obey and… and…

“Fuuuuuck,” Val whined as she came hard, pressing the vibrator as hard as she could against her clit. She rolled over and let the buzzing toy drop from her limp fingers. The orgasm rocked through her. It was her third for the day. Or was it her fourth? They all blurred together since the fantasy was the same each time.

She was naked and splayed out on the floor, one hand reaching out vainly to stroke at the hard muscles of the biker woman’s back. God but she loved muscles on women. Why had she always felt so intimidated to say that before? Val rolled her head over and studied her thin arms. She had an athletic build from fighting and gymnastics, sure, but they weren’t Muscles. But she could get strong if she wanted. Work out. Train properly. Get arms that were made to wrap around a butch biker babe. Or arms made for wrangling a motorcycle under control herself.

“This is so wrong.” Val knew what was happening of course. And why it was happening. But it was so fun to dream about. So hot.

Suddenly her police scanner crackled to life. A robbery. Right nearby. Some perp with electric hands who’d zapped some guards.

Val wobbled herself up into a sitting position, only to realize how she was dripping in sweat and still trembling from the last orgasm. She couldn’t fight crime like this. Hadn’t fought crime all week, in fact. So she slumped back onto the floor in defeat.

She realized her vibrator was still buzzing away, slowly crawling it’s way down the floor. Val stretched an arm out to snatch it before the sex toy could make an escape. Should probably turn it off so she didn’t waste power.

Val considered the buzzing vibrator. Then smiled and shut her eyes, imagining herself back in a biker bar. Timid, scared. Easy prey for all of the women around her. This time it was three biker chicks that cornered her, calling her sweet names and groping at her.

“Yes, please more,” Val whimpered, pressing the vibrator back to her clit as she slipped back into the fantasy of being a biker slut.

Val walked into the lesbian biker bar with a sense of awe. It was dirty and loud. Stank of sweat and cheap booze. The revving of motorcycles out front was a near constant racket, a chorus of machine growls that set Val’s heart racing with joy. This was the real deal.

The women lounging in the bar were just as rough as the bar itself. The lesbian bikers had different insignias sewn onto the backs of their jackets, but they all threw the same dirty stare Val’s way.

There was a meek tug on the sleeve of her leather jacket, and Val turned to see Yun-hee’s terrified expression. “We should leave,” she whispered, eyes darting around the bar as if they were in danger.

“We’ll be fine. They just want to intimidate us.”

Yun-hee stared in disbelief as Val casually walked over to the bar to order a drink. But then she realized that she was standing alone and quickly hurried over to Val’s side. Val was staring at her reflection in the mirror behind the bar, admiring her hair. She’d shaved off one side and cut the rest short, giving her a punk purple side cut. Val stared at every reflective surface they passed just to admire how hot she looked with it.

The grizzled woman behind the bar had a patch over one eye, but her single eye was able to give a doubly nasty leer at Val. “You lost?”

“Nope. Just wanted to have a drink where the real bikers are,” Val said with an almost giddy smile.

The bartender looked as incredulous as Yun-hee, then she let out a weary sigh and threw her towel over her shoulder. “Listen, kid. You seem nice.”

“Thanks.”

“That’s not a compliment. This isn’t the place for nice girls pretending to be bikers. I advise you to take your friend and leave before you cause trouble.”

“That’s an excellent suggestion,” Yun-hee replied as she latched onto Val’s arm with a death grip. She tried to haul Val off her stool, but Val dug her leather boots against the edge of the stool. When Yun-hee pulled, Val didn’t move. Already those hours of working with weights was paying off. Yun-hee tugged again like a frightened animal, but Val kept herself firmly planted at the bar.

They couldn’t leave. Not now. This place was so…

Sexy, Val thought, unsure why. How could the sound of a beer bottle breaking be sexy? How could the sight of a muscular woman’s arms littered with scars be so incredibly arousing?

She knew about Madame Blanc’s game. That this was what she wanted. And yet Val couldn’t believe that this biker bar could be so utterly erotic to her. Val never wanted to leave.

She was so lost in the atmosphere that she didn’t notice the one-eyed bartender hurriedly moving to the other end of the bar. Or when Yun-hee let go of her arm and scurried away too. Val only paid attention when a vice-like grip clamped down on her shoulder and whirled her around.

“The fuck are you doing here?”

When Val saw the woman threatening with her she swore she could feel her panties actually soak themselves. The biker chick had messy jet black hair, deep red lips like she’d been drinking blood, and a curving snake tattoo crawling from one muscular shoulder to the next. She was a Butch Biker Babe, all capital B’s.

“I’m- I’m having a drink,” Val stuttered, her mouth instantly dry.

The Butch Biker Babe laughed and leaned in. Unfortunately she mistook Val’s crippling arousal for fear, as she grabbed Val by the collar of her jacket and dragged her up to her feet. “This bar’s for bikers. Not poser bitches. So get out before you get hurt.”

Val could see the genuine threat in her eyes. As Violet Angel she’d fought plenty of criminals who wished her harm before, probably even ones tougher than this woman. But none of them had Val rubbing her thighs together with need at the prospect of that pain. She couldn’t stop herself from smiling. Being this close to a true biker was intoxicating. Val wanted to ride behind her on her bike. Val wanted to drink with her. Val wanted this threatening woman to fuck her within an inch of her life.

But the Butch Biker Babe didn’t take kindly to Val’s dopey grin, so she picked a different option as she cocked back her fist and punched Val clear off her feet.

There was a flash of white as the pain struck. And as Val fell she saw Madame Blanc floating over her, wearing a cool, confident smile. She’d set up this test for Val, and Val was losing. The woman who’d punched her had been absolutely right; Val was a poser. She wore a leather jacket because it felt dangerous. She cut her hair short cause it felt punk. But it was no better than cosplay. Val hadn’t taken a single step to really, truly becoming a biker or a slut.

Val laid there flat on her back, the muted sound of Yun-hee crying her name drowned out by the drunken cheers of the lesbian bikers. She blinked, the world coming back into focus, and she knew that she couldn’t play this game any more. She had to stop.

Stop cheating by taking half-measures to get herself off.

It was time to commit.

Val ignored Yun-hee’s help as she got up to her feet. The Butch Biker Babe was already back at her table taking a shot with some giggling girl in a tank-top and a denim miniskirt. Val felt a moment of jealousy. What she wouldn’t give to be a slutty cute little thing giggling on a muscular girl’s arm. Except this particular hot muscular biker had punched her. And a real biker wouldn’t let that slide.

So she wiped the blood from her lip and slapped the Butch Biker Babe on her shoulder. She turned and eyed Val with a nasty grin. “So you can take a hit. Interested in seeing how many you take before you can’t get up?”

Val didn’t flinch. “I’d rather see how many punches you can stand.”

The Butch Biker Babe narrowed her eyes. She hadn’t expected that. But it was clear she wouldn’t back down from a challenge.

“Your funeral,” the Butch Biker Babe chuckled, before she threw a second punch. Val dodged it and threw the next fifteen.

Val groaned as she woke up. From the scratchy sheet beneath her Val figured she was in a particularly cheap motel room. And from the way the right side of her face ached she also figured she’d gotten into another fight. She stumbled to her feet and peered into a dirty mirror, wincing at the black eye already forming.

For half a second Val wondered which supervillain had given her this particular bruise, only to frown. She hadn’t gone out as Violet Angel in two months. Or was it three? The thought of fighting superpowered villains almost felt like a lifetime ago.

Val opened a red cooler and said a silent prayer as she found some beer left floating in still cold water. She put one up against her eye, the cold sucking out the pain, while she opened a second beer with one hand and took a swig.

“You’re starting early,” a girl giggled.

Val glanced back and saw a red-head covered in piercings and tattoos. There was a delighted purr from inside her chest as she half-remembered the hot biker girl from the bar last night.

“So did I win?”

The redhead giggled again and ran a hand over her tits. “From what you did to me last night I think I’m the one who won.”

Val rolled her eyes and winced, pain erupting over the side of her face, but it was already fading. “I meant the fight.”

“Do you ever lose, Val?”

“Used to. A while back.” She could almost recall last night’s fight, although taking on four girls by herself seemed dumb even for her. But the redhead had a point; Val didn’t lose fights anymore. Back when she was Violet Angel she’d find herself losing as she went up against flying bank robbers and mutated carjackers. But in this world of bikers she was quickly making a name for herself. And that wasn’t the only change.

Val glanced at herself in the mirror. She was broader. Stronger. Val took another sip of her beer and drank in the sight of her muscles flexing. She was buff now. Butch. And that felt amazing.

It was the fighting. And the time spent learning to work on her new motorcycle. Not to mention a rigorous cardio schedule from fucking every biker girl she found sexy. Which was all of them.

The first time she’d overheard a woman in the bar call her a slut Val came on the spot. Not just because of the word, but because of the respect and admiration with which it was spoken. The biker gangs enjoyed having a slut like her around. In fact most of them had given her offers to join, promising her plenty of positions where she could enjoy herself.

And yet Val couldn’t decide. If she joined a crew then it would be official. She’d never be able to be a hero again. Or go back to her old life. She thought of Yun-hee, who she hadn’t seen in weeks. They’d kept hanging out at first, but Yun-hee never quite took to Val’s new friends. And now the normal life she’d used to lead was just boring to Val. So they’d drifted apart, and that was something she’d regret.

But that was simply life. And sometimes life gave you a sexy punk redhead crooking a finger at you to come back to bed and dive between her legs.

Before Val could do just that the bathroom opened and another naked girl walked out. Muscled, though not as much as Val, and with her own black eye. Val started as she remembered her, one of the women she’d fought against last night. But then she also remembered dragging the girl back to the motel room with the redhead and letting them take turns fucking her brains out.

“So are we starting round two?” The new girl asked, cracking her knuckles. Clearly there weren’t any hard feelings about the fight.

Val grinned and finished off her beer. Her new life definitely had some perks. She just had to finally accept what she really was. What she truly wanted to be.

Val grunted from the pain but endured. The tattoo artist had warned it was a sensitive spot, but Val had insisted. In her mind she knew it was perfect. Behind her Carrie and Mina were cheering and whooping, passing a liquor bottle back and forth between them. They’d insisted on staying to watch when they found out what Val was doing. And Val wasn’t about to turn away her two best friends. They were inseparable since that first threesome they’d had together.

“Alright, all done.”

The tattoo artist backed away, smirking proudly to herself. She also didn’t seem to mind having Val bottomless in the chair this whole time, if her constant peeks at Val’s wet pussy were any indication. Val was worried the distracted artist might mess up the tattoo, but she couldn’t deny a hot girl who wanted to enjoy Val’s body. And her new tattoo professed to that.

Val sat up, wincing at the fresh pain burning above her pussy. Then the artist held up a small mirror and Val broke into a happy grin. There in beautiful calligraphy were the words BIKER SLUT, printed proudly right over her dripping cunt.

“Now everyone’s gonna know what you are,” Carrie giggled as she grabbed onto Val’s right arm.

“Not that anyone in the state doesn’t already know you’re a biker slut,” Mina laughed as she came in from the left. She nibbled on Val’s ear, making her squirm.

“But now she’s got it to introduce herself in case she travels.”

“True, true.”

Val was usually right there to join in their banter, but she couldn’t peel her eyes off the beautiful sight. She’d finally done it. With trembling fingers she took the mirror from the artist, getting a closer look. The tattoo branding her for what she is. Her bare cunt, with clit pierced. She angled the mirror up, smiling at her hard abs, and her broad chest. Val’s purple hair was now shaved on both sides, leaving her with a tall purple Mohawk that was a bitch to maintain but so absolutely worth it. Her nipples poked hard through her thin tank-top, but it wasn’t enough. Val rolled her shirt up and bared her tits to admire herself properly. A true biker slut.

Carrie and Mina quickly took the opportunity to grab at her tits, while the tattoo artist blushed in the corner. Val smiled at her and waved for her to come closer. “If you want a piece feel free. I owe you for the amazing tattoo.”

The punk chick hesitated, but even she couldn’t resist Val. She came over and began stroking at Val’s thighs, just staring at her in awe.

“I think she likes you,” Carrie giggled as she stroked at Val’s neck. “Maybe we’ll let her take turns with you tonight, Val. But I get first dibs on you with my strap.”

It was an innocent comment. Val was always the submissive one in bed, so eager to let her friends use her any way they wanted. But suddenly Val felt anger surge through her. Indignation. She grabbed Carrie by the back of the neck and yanked her in close. Mina and the punk chick gasped, while Carrie’s eyes went wide in fear.

“Actually, I think I’m the one who’s going to be bending you over tonight, Carrie.”

The redhead stared, then blushed and looked away. “O-okay, Val.”

“And then I’m going to be fucking your brains out,” Val snarled, stroking her fingers up Mina’s chest. Mina shivered, the redhead nodding submissively. Val looked between them, shocked to see how easily the girls melted when she asserted herself. Maybe they’d always wanted Val to take charge. It took Val actually being labeled as a proper Biker Slut for her to realize a very simple truth: there was no reason a slut couldn’t be dominant as well.

“Now, if I’m a biker slut, and you two are my pathetic, needy playthings, then wouldn’t that make you biker sluts too?”

Carrie and Mina nodded, squirming with need on either side of her. “Yes, Val.”

“Then we’ll have to get you tattooed properly soon.”

Both girls lit up at the idea. Val rewarded them by reaching out and cupping them between their legs, stroking her fingers and feeling how wet they were even through their pants.

Then she raised an eyebrow at the punk chick, who was staring in absolute awe as Val casually controlled her friends. “What’s your name?”

“Trish,” the punk chick squeaked.

“As you can see I’m feeling fairly assertive tonight.” She drove her fingers up against her friends, making Carrie and Mina cry out in pleasure. “So the question is, will I be having my way with just these sluts tonight? Or should I have three playthings to enjoy?”

Trish chewed on her lip, hands pressed meekly together in front of her. “I- I think I’d like to be a slut, too.”

“Then get over her and kiss me.”

“Okay,” Trish replied eagerly, but moved nervously to climb on top of Val in the chair, straddling her. She leaned in for a kiss, but Val clicked her tongue and Trish froze obediently.

“If you’re going to be my slut, then you have to address me properly.” A memory surfaced in her mind, of how she dripped with need every time she addressed her Madame, so long ago. Val was tempted, but that was Blanc’s title. She was different. “Call me Mistress.”

She could feel Trish’s legs tremble against her as the punk chick said, “Yes, Mistress.”

“That goes for you sluts too,” Val ordered, and stopped rubbing her fingers against them.

Carrie whimpered. “Yes, Mistress.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Mina echoed, grabbing at Val’s wrist while her eyes begged for her to resume.

Satisfied, Val went back to teasing her friends, drinking in their pathetic moans as Trish moved in to make out with her. A fire was blazing deep in her subconscious. This was a new side of the biker fantasy she hadn’t imagined, but it felt right. To take charge. To dominate. It’s what badass biker chicks would do.

No wonder Madame Blanc enjoyed toying with her so much. Being in charge just felt good.

With a roundhouse kick Val knocked out the person who’d cracked a joke about her. They hit the floor like dead weight and the rest of the bar cheered. Val usually lived for fighting, but there was something gnawing at her soul. Some void she couldn’t name. Something unfinished. What could it be?

Val walked back to her table to cheers. Carrie and Mina were waiting there with the others. Trish was in Mina’s lap, wearing a dog collar that she’d gotten to prove her devotion to Val. The girl had taken so eagerly to being Val’s pet bitch. Actually, most of the girls in the bar had instantly fallen to their knees before her once Val declared herself in charge. When she’d first arrived to become a biker slut there had been numerous motorcycle clubs, each with their own name and logo. Now there was hardly anyone who hadn’t joined up with Val’s crew.

Waiting on Val’s chair was her vest, lovingly stitched together for her by her girls. It showed a bloodied fist held high, with white and red wings stretching out behind it. And written beneath was the name Val had chosen for herself, and for all of her girls to wear. Violent Angel.

Val was certain that someone would have made the connection. That the new biker bitch taking over the gangs and making them commit crimes under her was the former superhero Violet Angel. Except if anyone got the connection they didn’t say. No one knew how far she’d fallen into depravity. Going from noble crime fighter to kinky crime boss mistress.

Then again, there was only one person besides Val who would truly appreciate her transformation.

The idea struck her like a blinding white flash of light. Val threw her leather vest back on before snapping her fingers. All conversation in the bar froze. Someone shut off the music. Every tough woman in the bar held their breath and looked to Val, ready to obey. She never got tired of the power she felt.

“Listen up. I’ve got a new mission for all of you, and it takes priority over everything else. There’s a woman, an arms dealer, that I need you to track down. Madame Blanc. She sells crap tech to cheap supervillains, and I want her.”

“Do you want to buy something from her, Mistress?”

Val glared at Mina, silencing her.

“It doesn’t matter why I want her. I just want her found. So do whatever it takes to get the information. I don’t care if you have to pay people, or rough some people up, or fuck em to get them to spill. You’ll do this for me.”

She didn’t have to phrase it as a question. Every biker in the bar broke into adoring grins, and if Val had taken the time to check she would have found every one of her sluts eagerly aroused and ready to obey.

The bar shook as they all cried in unison, “Yes Mistress!”

Then they raced out to their bikes, filling the night air with the sound of roaring engines. The Violent Angels swept out, ready to obey the command of their Mistress. Val sat down in her chair with a smug smile. The only one who hadn’t sped off on their bike was Trish, who obediently sat by Val’s side where she was always meant to be. She was sliding a finger along her dog collar with a blissful expression.

“I’m sure the girls will find her soon.”

“I have no doubt about that,” Val cooed, as she gave Trish an affectionate pet on the head. “In the meantime why don’t you keep me company?”

“Always, Mistress.” Trish slid out of her chair and moved between Val’s legs, happily eating her out. Val sighed with relief and closed her eyes, thinking of Madame Blanc and all she wanted to do with her once they had their reunion.

Madame Blanc was bored. She sat in her office, holding a drink that she didn’t take a sip from as her eyes poured over the paperwork. Starting up a black market for super weapons had sounded like so much fun, but these days she felt like a glorified accountant. Sure, sometimes a superhero tried to bust her, and then Blanc was able to break out her personal brainwashing toys and have some fun. But she wasn’t going to do anything too bad. She wasn’t an abuser, after all. Finding willing submissive superheroes was just such a hassle.

Her thoughts drifted to a cute girl with purple hair, purple tights, and a vacant expression. Violet. She’d been such a sweet thing in her trance.

Blanc sighed. “Really thought I’d have some fun with her.” It had been such a fun idea. Violet Girl or whatever her silly name had been would keep tracking her down, because she was a dedicated do-gooder, but every time she’d have a new little touch. Maybe a piercing, or a more butch haircut. A skimpier, almost slutty superhero costume. Or a tattoo. Blanc sucked in an excited breath at the familiar fantasy. Of Violet leaping in so heroically, only to be caught in Blanc’s pretty white lights once again. Command her to tear open her tights, just to reveal some embarrassing tattoo. A permanent mark to show that Blanc’s words had truly had an effect on her. Not forcing her against her will, but awakening some darker, needy impulse that the hero had always kept hidden within her.

And Blanc would kiss the tattoo. Lean in close to kiss her, and even in trance Violet would let out a whimper, needing Blanc’s touch, but Blanc would just chuckle and tell her that she should come back and show off her next tattoo. If she did, maybe Blanc would kiss her then.

Such a slow, loving corruption of the sweet girl.

Blanc had a hand down her pants, stroking gently but snapped awake back to bitter reality. The idea had been so amazing and kept her up at night, but as the weeks dragged on it was clear that Violet had forgotten about her. Blanc had even tried to track her down, yet months of inquiring revealed that there were no heroes in purple tights running around. She’d left the city. Left Blanc alone and unfulfilled with a hand down her pants.

Blanc pulled her hand away and checked to make sure she hadn’t gotten too wet. The price of wearing a fashionable all white outfit was how easily wet stains could show.

She’d just wait until she got home to have some fun with her vibrator. The purple one she’d bought, hoping to use it on a special someone. Blanc just wished she could explain why she was so hung up on the girl, and how she could have been so mistaken about what the girl wanted. There had just been some strange aura about her. Like it was destiny they met. But clearly destiny was just a fairy tale, like Blanc had always known.

Blanc took a sip of her drink, and promptly spat it out as an explosion shook her office. She leapt to her feet, shouting, “I told you assholes not to put the nuclear coils so close to the anti-gravity jets!”

The furious villain threw open her door, ready to see what fresh destruction her incompetent goons had wrought. Instead she found her men fleeing in terror as bikers tore through the warehouse, beating the crap out of every minion they got their hands on. The female bikers were shrieking and laughing like banshees as they destroyed her machines, racing through the warehouse on motorcycles and dragging her minions behind them.

It didn’t make any sense. Who would be stupid enough to try and go Mad Max on her lair? Whoever they were they were going to pay.

Madame Blanc locked the door to buy herself some time. Her special toy would only entrance people at close range, so she couldn’t take on an army of pissed off biker women. She’d have to retreat for now and get her revenge once she found the asshole behind this.

She was throwing her money and designs for weapons into a briefcase when something powerful crashed against the office door. It splintered apart into chunks. Blanc whirled, her special device at the ready. Only when she saw the figure standing there Blanc was too stunned to even consider activating her toy.

The woman with the purple Mohawk was the Platonic ideal of a badass biker. Arms rippling with muscle, wearing a leather vest and a denim miniskirt, with fishnets creeping down her long legs to meet her steel-toed boots. She also wore a thick pair of blacked out goggles. The biker cocked a smile at her.

“Not going to flash me? And I went through the trouble of getting these goggles that would stop you from putting me into a trance.”

Blanc shivered. How did she know about her secret weapon?

There was something about her smile too. Almost familiar. Lips she’d dreamed of kissing. Blanc couldn’t stop herself from gasping in shock. “Violet?”

“It’s Violent Angel now, actually.” She turned and showed off the back of her vest, with an insignia proclaiming her new name. She also flexed her powerful arms, such a stark change from the lithe, athletic gymnast in purple tights. “But you can cal me Val. I think we’re close enough.”

“I- How—”

Val frowned at her in disappointment. “You don’t remember me?”

Blanc laughed. “Of course I do! But this… just look at you! You’re… you’re gorgeous.” And Blanc meant it. She’d expected the hero to feel temptation, maybe dip a toe into the biker fantasy. Not dive in headfirst and drown herself in it.

“I admit, I was a little hesitant.” It was strange seeing such a strong, imposing, simply badass woman blush in embarrassment. “I wore out a ton of vibrators, telling myself I could just imagine it but not actually give in. And I know I could have resisted it, if I wanted to. But I didn’t.” Val reached up and took off the blacked-out goggles. Her eyes were the same as the first time Blanc had seen her.

This was her chance to put her into a trance. Only Blanc lowered her arms instead. She couldn’t use her toy. Not in the face of something as beautiful as Val’s transformation.

“I wanted to have fun. I wanted to be a biker slut. And I’m good at it too. You’re looking at the bitch in charge of the biggest biker gang in the state.”

“Amazing,” Blanc whispered.

“And I also might have become the Mistress for every girl down there, I’m pretty good at being in charge.” Val gave her a predatory smile, and Blanc wondered if she made a mistake not putting her into trance. Val simply radiated power and confidence. If Blanc tried to raise her hand and use her toy, she had no doubt that Val would move faster. Did she want revenge?

Or did she want to dominate Blanc and become her Mistress?

The fear and excitement made Blanc’s heart race. There wasn’t a submissive bone in her body, but for her to have her will broken by the very biker slut monster she’d created was such poetic justice that she’d have to accept it.

Val walked up to her, and each step made Blanc’s body quiver with need. She wanted to own this impressive specimen. To make such a strong woman bow to her will. But she supposed that was up to Val.

“It took me a while to track you down, but I found my way back. And now we can finish this.” Val reached out and cupped Blanc’s chin. “I’m a biker slut now, just like you wanted. So will you take me?”

Blanc was lost in Val’s eyes, and had to shake her head to process what she’d heard. “What?”

“Will you take me? Own me? It’s all I’ve fantasized about since we met.” Val fell to her knees and bowed her head. “I’ll be so useful to you, Madame. I’ll beat up anyone who gives you trouble. And I’ll have all my girls serving you. Doing your dirty work, running supplies. And my body…” Val shivered and ran a hand over her breasts, sliding it down her abs and to her skirt. “My body is all yours. If you want it, Madame.”

A gasp escaped Blanc as Val lifted up her skirt, and clearly tattooed above her cunt were the words BIKER SLUT.

“Fuck,” Madame Blanc muttered with a sigh. “You’re perfect.”

Val looked up at her, a hopeful but nervous smile on her face. “So you’ll take me?”

“You think there’s a chance I wouldn’t? Look at you!”

Val blushed and squirmed on her knees. “I wasn’t sure if you remembered me.”

Blanc hesitated, then walked over to a closet at the back of the office. Val watched her go without a word, staying put on the floor. It took some digging to get to, but Blanc finally found a wooden box. “I bought this like a week after you left. I got a tad obsessed with the idea of you, I’ll admit. You were just such an adorable little thing, so idealistic and beautiful. I really just wanted to twist you into my personal plaything.”

Blanc looked up sharply. “But I wouldn’t change you against your will. It had to be your choice to become mine. To change for me. That’s the true mark of devotion. And I got excited thinking about you, so I made an impulse buy.” She began walking over, smiling into the box but keeping the contents out of Val’s view. “As the weeks went by I figured you weren’t coming back. I kept telling myself I should return this. That you weren’t coming. But as practical as I try to be, I guess I’m a hopeless romantic at heart.”

“I’m sorry it took so long, Madame. But I did come back.” Val smiled. “I did change. Not for you, but definitely because of you. You showed me that I could be something different, and I wanted to follow the path you gave me. You could probably have said any number of ideas, but I’m glad you told me to become a butch biker babe. I have a real knack for it,” Val chuckled, waving a hand at herself.

“Like I said, you’re perfect.” Then she frowned thoughtfully. “Well, almost perfect.”

Val sat up straight. “Tell me how I can improve myself. I’ll change anything you want. I want to be your perfect biker slut.”

“Easy, easy, you’ve done amazing.” Blanc smiled as she saw Val trembling happily at her praise. “You’re only missing one thing. This.” Val turned the wooden box around and lowered it for Val to see.

The biker slut gasped as she saw the white collar, ringed with silver spikes. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’ll show everyone who you belong to. That you’re mine now and forever.”

“Can I wear it?”

“Depends,” Madame Blanc chuckled. “Will you be mine, now and forever?”

“Now and forever,” Val agreed, smiling ear to ear. “Just promise you’ll break out that brainwashing toy for more fun. I still get wet thinking of that trance and how hot it was.”

“Oh believe me, you’re going to spend plenty of time mindless for me. But tonight, I want to savor how perfect you are.” Blanc held out the white collar, which Val snatched up with a happy cry. As her new toy put on its collar, Madame Blanc unzipped her pants and pulled them down along with her soaked panties.

Val licked her lips as she saw Blanc’s pussy waiting for her. Then she clicked the white spiked collar into place. Blanc quivered and let out a moan at the sound.

“You’re mine now, Val. And I want my Violent Angel to worship my cunt.”

“Yes, Madame Blanc. Anything for you.”

The supervillain sat down at her desk and lifted her legs up high as Val crawled beneath her. The biker slut dove in ravenously, showing off just how skilled her tongue had become. Madame Blanc grabbed at Val’s Mohawk and moaned ecstatically. It had taken months, but this was better than Blanc had ever dreamed of. Her pretty violet hero had returned, and this rugged biker bitch was more beautiful than anything Blanc had ever seen.

They were going to commit such wonderful crimes together.