The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Honey Trap

Part Five: Fleeing the Trap

Quickly, Ampere flicked the half-eaten gobstopper through the bars. It rolled into the shadows and hopefully out of sight. Then, she dipped her head, and managed to smooth her gag back into place. She could only pray the villain wouldn’t notice any change.

The Confectioner only stayed long enough to gloat and remind the heroine of her eventual defeat. He pointed out that the next time he returned she wouldn’t remember anything at all and then, laughed manically, no doubt imagining the fun he would have with her. Still cackling, the villain disappeared once more.

Time seemed to pass very slowly for Ampere. Although she wracked her brain, the young heroine couldn’t think of a means of escape, and eventually she realised she would have to wait for the villain to return. Perhaps then she could find a way to turn the tables on him. She knew that he had phenomenal strength, as well as his collection of fiendish, sweet-based weaponry, but she was trusting on the element of surprise to give her the advantage.

* * *

The villain eventually returned, and was pleased to see his captive lying, motionless, in the corner of her cage. He checked his watch, making sure the gobstopper would have had long enough to completely dissolve. Finally, this annoying nuisance would bother him no more. Delighted with his victory, the villain unlocked the cage door and stepped inside. He swung the heavy door shut behind him, before locking it in place. After all, even without her memory, a lightning-flinging heroine could still be dangerous.

Carefully, the Confectioner rolled Ampere onto her back, and smiled when saw how her eyes gazed vacantly upwards. Still grinning, the villain gently unpeeled the thick tape gag from her lips. He checking inside her mouth and was pleased to find the sweet had melted. Tenderly her stroked the side of Ampere’s face and began to talk to her, speaking in a soft, friendly voice, almost as one would speak to a child.

“Ah, my pretty. I am sure you are very confused right now, aren’t you?” He began, “It’s alright, little pet. I am your owner and my name is Sir. This is the cage where you stay when you have been naughty. But, it’s all okay now, I forgive you.”

* * *

The villain grinned at Ampere, not realising how hard she was struggling to remain still. It took every ounce of her self-discipline not to reveal that she was free of his poison. She was banking on him having some way to release her from these bonds, but she couldn’t put up with much more of this without losing control and showing her hand.

“You are probably wondering who you are, aren’t you?” The Confectioner continued. “Well that is also easy. I am your owner, and you are my slave. I am very pleased with my slave and, I imagine, lying there as you are, helplessly horny, it would be most enjoyable for me to pleasure my slave. You think so too, don’t you?”

With that, the villain withdrew another hipflask from his pocket, and carefully poured a small drop onto Ampere’s ankle cuffs. Instantly they began to melt away, leaving only a small puddle of clear jelly. Then, the Confectioner gently drew the heroine’s knees apart and exposed her sex. Still murmuring about slaves and owners, the villain began to caress Ampere’s legs, tracing his fingers up over her thighs as he did so.

Ampere gritted her teeth. She knew it was now or never, and trusting that he was suitably focussed on what he was doing, she lashed out quite suddenly. Her left foot collided with his knee, impacting heavily and making the villain hiss with pain. Her right foot, however, did the most good, as she rammed it fiercely between his legs. The villain let out a startled yelp and immediately crumpled, his hands cupping his manhood.

The heroine was on him immediately, her bound hands fumbling for his hipflask. She juggled and almost dropped it in her haste, but was finally able to unstopper it and dowse her hands in the liquid. Her bonds fell away, and Ampere stretched out her aching limbs. Then, noticing that the Confectioner’s moans were subsiding, she kicked him again, viciously. Once she was sure he wouldn’t resist, it didn’t take long to find his keys.

Moments later, the heroine was outside the cage, her erstwhile captor now safely trapped inside. Happy that he was held for the moment at least, Ampere struck out in search of an exit and, perhaps if she was lucky, some clothes. Unlike the supervillain lairs she had been privileged to visit previously, this one did not seem to be littered with traps, and the heroine was able to explore without difficulty.

Inside what she took to be the Confectioner’s bedchamber, she discovered her costume, hanging up in a large, walk-in wardrobe. Her boots were also stored conveniently nearby, and once she was dressed, Ampere began to feel a bit less vulnerable. There was certainly evidence that other prisoners had been held here. But, despite an intensive search, the heroine couldn’t find anyone else.

All that remained was to call the police. Once she was sure they were on their way, Ampere wandered back to the cage. She was not completely surprised to find it empty, but it did lend a certain alacrity to her exit. She knew she was on the Confectioner’s home territory now, and had no desire to experience another of his sugary traps.

Later Ampere would count the day a near total failure. The villain had escaped and the three girls were now who knew where. But, at least she had managed to avoid the particularly nasty fate the Confectioner had planned for her.

* * *

Meanwhile, in a fast-moving van, speeding away from the crime scene, an angry supervillain cupped a bag of ice against his groin and cursed the name of Ampere. He couldn’t understand how she had resisted his memory-sapping candy. But he vowed that the next time they met he would bend the proud heroine to his will. That would now be his sole goal in life.

Grinning against the pain, he wondered if she had found her costume yet, and how long it would take her to discover the subtle ‘alterations’ he had made to it.

But that’s another story