The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Has the Baroness’ ill wind only just begun to blow?

What, if anything, will be left standing in its wake?

Stay tuned....

The Jefferson Ballroom of the Grand Plaza buzzed with conversation as the assembled reporters and photographers waited for the guests of honor to arrive and start the press conference.

“...Dr. Plasmicus thinks they’re clones, and the Baroness’ next move is going to be offering them on the black market as sex slaves....”

“...finally got the general manager to explain that it was legitimate work-related, so they turned off the porn filter, and somehow that messed up the Internet connection for the whole office....”

“...spent a whole week tracking down an adult actress who could have passed for her, and it turns out she couldn’t have been the one in the video—she has a real phobia about being tied up....”

The buzz of conversation died down as a few of the crowd noticed something overhead, and their reactions were noticed by others in turn in a chain reaction. In a sudden burst of motion, two figures swung down on ropes, landed at the edge of the stage, and used their momentum to carry them into somersaults that put them behind the lectern and its cluster of microphones.

It was clear that they were Vindiatrix and Shield Lass. There might be a few people who resembled the heroines sufficiently to impersonate them, but nobody who could copy their looks and their moves so well. The startled buzz gradually subsided as the duo stood before the audience, watching and waiting.

Finally, Vindiatrix raised her hand for attention. The room quickly quieted to the point where the heroine had to raise her voice only a bit to be heard.

“I’m sure you’ll have plenty of questions besides the obvious ones, but let’s get those out of the way first.”

The heroines shifted closer together, each throwing an arm around the other’s shoulder... then sliding it down to reach around and caress each other’s breast.

“Yes, we’re a lesbian couple.” The two women turned toward each other, leaning into a tight embrace and a long deep kiss as the audience reacted with a mix of surprise and puzzlement and excitement.

As the duo finally pulled apart, a curtain behind them parted. It revealed a giant poster advertising “The Orgasmic Origin of Tribby Greatrix and Scissor Lass”. At either side of the illustration were mannequins bearing the outfits depicted in the artwork.

“And, yes, Vindiatrix and Shield Lass are Tribby Greatrix and Scissor Lass.”

There was a split-second of calm as this statement sank in, and then everyone seemed to be shouting at once. The heroines ignored them for a moment, letting the photographers get pictures of them posing before the display. Then, Vinidatrix stepped up to the microphone, “Everyone quiet down. We’ll be ready to start taking your other questions in a few minutes....”

The tumult settled down a bit—then got louder than ever as the two heroines began unzipping their tops. “...as soon as we finish changing into our stage outfits,” Vindiatrix concluded, raising her voice in a futile attempt to be heard over the din.

“Ahhh.... shouldn’t you change... backstage somewhere?” one of the reporters stammered as the heroines stripped off the tops of their costumes. He was starting goggle-eyed at Vindiatrix’s breasts, which were showing erect nipples even through her support bra.

“Why?” Shield Lass answered. “We’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.” The reporter certainly agreed with that assessment as he watched her remove her bra, leaving her modest but well-defined breasts fully exposed to view.

The two heroines neither hid themselves from the audience nor played up to it with striptease-style theatrics. They simply removed their outfits, leaving only tiny thong panties. They then removed the porn-starlet costumes from the mannequins and donned them in an equally matter-of-fact manner. After a few final adjustments, Tribby Greatrix and Scissor Lass stood upon the stage.

By now, the stunned reactions had played themselves out, and there was an awkward silence as the duo faced the staring crowd.

“Questions?” Vindiatrix—no, Tribby Greatrix—finally asked. She pointed toward a woman in the front row who waved a hand while swallowing, as if trying to recover her lost voice.

“Are you really lesbians?” She looked a bit abashed as scattered laughs erupted around the room.

“Yes.” Scissor Lass responded matter-of-factly. The snickering died down. “I’ve wanted to have sex with other girls ever since I started wanting to have sex at all. Whenever I masturbate, I imagine another woman’s fingers or tongue working on my cunt—”

The room exploded in gasps and sudden intakes of breath.

“What is your problem? Don’t you want honest answers?” She gave the assembled reporters the sort of glare she usually directed at a cornered street thug. They quieted down and stared back at her with deer-in-the-headlights looks. “It’s a word. My eyes, my mouth, my tits, my belly, my cunt, my legs, my feet,” she declared, pointing at each body part as she ran down the list.

The audience was dead silent. Most of them looked like they were trying to think of something to say, trying to work up the nerve to say anything at all, or wishing they were somewhere else.

“I’ve got nothing against men, but I prefer women. In fact, right now I’m imagining what you’d look like naked, and it’s really turning me on.”

The reporter squirmed uncomfortably in her seat, as did quite a few of her colleagues. There were a few hastily stifled snickers.

“Why is everybody acting like normal sexual responses are something to be ashamed of?” The junior heroine sounded a bit exasperated, but mostly honestly puzzled. “I’m sure most of the straight men and lesbian women who see you have the same reaction.” She paused to let the residual murmuring in the room die down. “Getting back to the original question—if you need to put a label on it, yes, I’m a lesbian.”

She turned to her partner, who picked up the cue and gave her answer to the question. “I used to think I was only interested in men, but now I realize that I was in denial about my attraction to my partner—”

“You mean the Baroness was right?”

Tribby Greatrix looked annoyed at the interruption for a moment, then used it as a segue. “Yes. Apparently despite all our conflicts and misunderstandings, she got to know us better than we knew ourselves and decided to extend a helping hand.”

“You said ‘misunderstandings’. Are you saying that the Baroness isn’t really a villain?”

“Of course not. You can look up for yourselves how many times she’s been accused of something. None of the accusations ever amounted to anything in the end. While I’m on the subject, I’d like to publicly apologize to Baroness Blackleather for taking those accusations at face value without proof. I should have known better; I know from personal experience what it’s like to be falsely accused of a crime.”

As she made that statement, she locked eyes with the publisher of the Daily Trumpet, who had gotten himself a front-row seat. Almost everyone else was looking at him, some nervously, some with ill-concealed pleasure. He himself looked like he was only staying in place because it would be more humiliating to leave.

“The Baroness didn’t commit any of the crimes she’s been accused of, any more than my partner and I sabotaged the Zetatron Project last year. That’s my final word on the subject.”

“What about the fact that she’s running a pornography operation?”

“What about it?” Scissor Lass asked. “It’s all perfectly legal. We’re consenting adults. The Baroness’ customers are consenting adults.”

“Don’t you think that you’re corrupting the nation’s moral fiber?”

“Obviously not, or we wouldn’t be doing it.” Tribby Greatrix’s tone suggested that she thought the questioner should have figured that out for herself.

The brush-off didn’t dissuade her from immediately following up. “People look up to you. Don’t you feel that you have a responsibility to maintain that?”

“We are maintaining that.” Tribby Greatrix declared. “People look up to us because we stop criminals. We’re going to continue doing that, as Vindiatrix and Shield Lass. People look up to us because we uphold the law. Well, we’re upholding the laws that say we have a right to produce sexual entertainment as Tribby Greatrix and Scissor Lass, and consenting adults have the right to buy and watch it. If people look down on that, I think that reflects the way people have been brainwashed by society.”

Meanwhile, the three heroes at ParaPatrol headquarters watched the press conference, trying to make sense of the Trusty Twosome’s increasingly outrageous statements and actions.

“They’re the ones who’ve been brainwashed!” Ethrienne snapped as she paused the program and turned toward her colleagues.

“You know this for a fact? I thought you had to actually be in the room to do a mind scan,” the Palladium Paladin replied.

“I don’t need to do a mind scan! It’s obvious! I can’t believe those idiot reporters aren’t pointing it out!”

“The reporters have to report the facts.” Somehow, Palladium Paladin made that sound like a declaration of truth rather than a moment of absurd naiveté. “The facts don’t prove any sort of mind control.”

Ethrienne took a long slow breath, as she often did when their team leader was being particularly stolid. “What about the fact that they suddenly turned into a couple of porn starlets?!”

“That is very unusual, I agree.” Both of his teammates rolled their eyes. The Paladin continued on obliviously. “The fact is that no known form of mind control can produce such drastic shifts in behavior and attitudes without obvious side effects.”

“Then she’s using an unknown form of mind control!” Ethrienne threw up her hands in exasperation. “Look, we need to find those two, stop them from embarrassing themselves any more than they already have, and figure out what happened to them and how to fix it!”

The Palladium Paladin gave her his best concerned look. He was concerned in his own way, Ethrienne knew, even if her powers couldn’t sense what went on in his cybernetic brain. The problem was that “his own way” tended to be relentlessly logical, frustrating his human teammates even as they admitted that his viewpoint was generally more reasonable than theirs.

Crimson Crag had sat back listening to his colleagues. Now, he finally joined the discussion. “Even if you’re right, I’m not sure we can capture those two, especially with the rest of the team busy trying to stop Professor Deranger from melting the icecaps.”

The team leader nodded, “That is a valid point. Vindiatrix and Shield Lass’ history suggests that, in a confrontation, they are likely to prevail even when outnumbered three-to-two by superpowered opponents.”

“Are you suggesting we should wait until they get back?” Ethrienne asked.

Shaking his head, the Paladin responded, “I cannot justify using force against fellow heroes without evidence. Surely you understand my position.”

Much to her annoyance, she did understand. It would be so much easier if she could dismiss the argument as a glitch in the Palladium Paladin’s artificial intelligence. Unfortunately, she couldn’t. She had to admit that he was raising a reasonable concern.

“Suppose I got proof?” Ethrienne paused a moment, thinking about how to best argue her case. “I know it’s stretching the rules a bit, but at least there’s enough suspicion to do a quick mind scan to find out the truth. If I’m wrong, I’ll take full responsibility. They can file a complaint with you; I won’t protest. Hell, they can give me a punch in the nose and I’ll stand there and take it. But I’ve got to find out for sure!”

Palladium Paladin stood stock still as he considered it. “Very well. The situation is unusual enough to bend the usual protocols. You may proceed, and if you find evidence of mental manipulation we will consider our options from there.”

“I’ll be there to back you up if you need me!” Crimson Crag promised.

“No,” Ethrienne replied. “This has to be strictly my play, my responsibility. I can’t ask you to be involved if I’m wrong.” She held up a hand to cut off his protest. “Besides, this needs to be quick and discreet. You’d be too conspicuous.”

Reluctantly, Crimson Crag nodded. “Even so, you call me if you get in trouble, and I’ll be there no matter what I have to punch out of the way!”

“It’s decided, then,” the team leader said. “Now, there is only the matter of getting close enough to them to perform a mind scan.” He reached for the remote control, which was still clutched in Ethrienne’s hand. “In the meantime, we should observe the remainder of the press conference for useful clues.”

The screen unfroze, and even the Paladin’s face showed surprise at what followed.

“You say that society is ‘brainwashed’,” one of the reporters asked. “How do we know that you aren’t brainwashed?”

“Mind control just doesn’t work that way,” Scissor Lass answered. “If we were quote ‘brainwashed’ unquote to do something we really didn’t want to do, we’d snap out of it pretty fast, and until they did we’d be acting like zombies.” She extended her hands stiffly forward and mumbled “Braaaains!” The audience laughed. “Or, if somebody tried to brainwash us into sex-crazed lesbians...” She repeated the pose, this time spreading and flexing her fingers, and mumbled “Booooobs!” That got a louder laugh.

As the last snickers faded, the question was followed up, “So, you’re saying that this rather radical change is purely voluntary?”

Tribby Greatrix answered that one. “It’s not so much a radical change as a radical release of feelings that were always under the surface. On some level, we always wanted to discard the inhibitions that were getting in the way of the active healthy sex lives we’re enjoying now.” She reached out to give her partner’s butt a quick squeeze. In response, the younger woman turned and saucily wagged her tongue at her.

The Daily Trumpet’s publisher stood up, the usual bluster back in his posture. “Would you be willing to undergo a psychic scan to verify that?”

Above the sudden uproar of surprised crosstalk, both of the pornstar heroines said “Yes!”

Ethrienne headed for the window. “I’m going over there to get a definite public commitment while the reporters are still there!”

“What if it’s a trap?” Crimson Crag objected.

“The Baroness won’t try anything out in the open. I’ll get her to agree to come here to be scanned, with both of you watching.”

“That is a reasonable plan,” the Palladium Paladin said. “Very well; hurry before the opportunity is gone.”

“Any final questions?”

Ethrienne flew in through the skylight. “You said you’d be willing to submit to a psychic scan? I’m here to set up your appointment.”

“All right.” Tribby Greatrix shrugged offhandedly, not quite popping her nipples free of her corset. “You can do it now, if you like.”

The utter lack of concern in her voice surprised Ethrienne. She paused, staring at the duo on the stage. Neither their expressions nor their surface thoughts indicated any deception.

“Not now,” she finally replied. “If you want me to find out the truth, I’ll need time to do it right. Are you willing to meet me at ParaPatrol headquarters at nine o’clock tonight?”

“We’ll be there.” The statement was as quick and straightforward as agreeing to a dinner date.

“You realize that I find out that you are being brainwashed, we’ll have to keep you under observation, voluntarily or otherwise, until we figure out how to undo it?”

“Of course.” The tone was pure Vindiatrix, the trappings of Tribby Greatrix notwithstanding.

“All right, then... nine o’clock!” Ethrienne flew back toward the skylight, feeling a bit weirded out by the heroines’ easy agreement and wondering if she might be mistaken after all.

“We’ll be there!”

Will Ethrienne’s mental probing uncover the Baroness’ subtle sapphic snare?

If so, will she overcome it... or will it overcome her?

Tune in for “Beguiling Bind”, same SMUT-time, same SMUT-channel....