The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

IN THE CLUTCHES OF BARONESS BLACKLEATHER

Chapter Six: Believable Bunkum

* * *

LAST TIME:

“So, how did you like it?”

“It was...” She stumbled for words to describe the pleasure. “...wonderful, Mistress!” There was no fumbling for that word; it was obviously right.

Meanwhile, one of the crew had removed Shield Lass’ ballgag.... the tall redhead who had brought her to the brink of climax and Remodulation at their previous encounter. The heroine smiled at the Leathergal, then turned to the Baroness. “It was even better than I thought it would be, Mistress.”

“I’m pleased to hear that.” The Baroness bent down to take Vindiatrix’s hand, and give her a nice view of leather-bound cleavage. A camera moved in to capture the moment as the bound woman’s fingers were guided to press all three recessed switches at once. Her manacles popped open with a loud click, and the platform began sliding backward and rotating back toward horizontal.

The Baroness raised the heroine’s newly liberated hand to her lips and kissed in in a downright genteel manner. “Wait for the machinery to stop moving, then untie yourself and stand up. Then, follow Kristin...” She indicated the redhead. “...and take a nice warm shower. I want you nice and fresh and respectable-looking for your next scene!”

“Yes, Mistress!”

* * *

Has the Baroness gained complete control our smitten superheroines?

How can they possibly be “respectable looking” while making a dirty movie?

Stay tuned....

* * *

The two heroines shared the shower, eagerly rubbing each other down with scented lather. Specially waterproofed cameras captured the scene; the Baroness mentioned that it would probably be saved for use as a special feature in some later film.

“Mmmmm... oh, yeah, Jenny...” Tracy felt weak in the knees as Jenny reached around from behind to massage her tits.

“Oh, Tracy, I’ve wanted to do this for so long...” She felt Tracy’s body tense. “What’s the matter?”

Belatedly, Tracy realized that they probably shouldn’t be addressing each other by name. The words could be edited out of the final recording easily enough, but the Baroness would hear. The habit of protecting her secret identity was strongly ingrained, to the point where even her love and loyalty to the Baroness didn’t quite overcome her uneasiness.

Even so, she knew that if the Baroness had asked who she was behind the mask, she would have told her. The fact that the question hadn’t been asked probably meant that the answer didn’t matter. The Baroness wanted Vindiatrix—and Tribby Greatrix—not Tracy Lorentia. The fact that they’d been given “shower caps” that doubled as face masks seemed to confirm that.

“Nothing,” Tracy said as she let herself relax. There was no point in worrying about it now. It was easier to just trust the Baroness. She quit thinking and wriggled, encouraging Jenny to fondle her tits while rubbing her ass against Jenny’s body. They caressed each other, while keeping an unspoken understanding not to get too intimate. That would be saved for the stage.

After a while, they got out and toweled each other off. Kristin was waiting for them with their Vindiatrix and Shield Lass outfits, completely cleaned of the adhesive spray. Apparently they were going to appear in this scene as “themselves” rather than in their sexualized stage identities. Kristin watched appreciatively as they got dressed, then led them down a hallway—not to the stage, but to the front office of the VaVaVidd building.

* * *

The Baroness was waiting for them, along with a few cameras and two Leathergals to operate them. “Ah, there you are.” she said.

“Yes, Mistress,” Vindiatrix responded.

“Don’t call me ‘Mistress’ all the time. Save it for special occasions.” The overtones in her voice made it quite clear what sort of “special occasions” she had in mind.

Vindiatrix nodded.

Shield Lass spoke up. “Why here instead of on the stage?”

“I want to reconstruct the scene where you two first arrived,” the Baroness explained. “It might help you get your memories back. Have you starting to remember anything that happened between first arriving here and waking up?”

The heroines paused to think about that. After a moment, Vindiatrix replied, “I think a few things are starting to come back to me. It’s very vague and fuzzy, but it doesn’t feel like a total blank any more.”

“Same here,” Shield Lass agreed.

“Good. I remember what happened; just follow my lead. Letting me guide you through a repetition of the events might bring the memories back to the surface. In case one repetition isn’t sufficient, I have the cameras set up so you can watch it again later.”

“That makes sense,” Shield Lass replied.

Vindiatrix nodded her agreement. “Let’s get started!”

“Yes, let’s begin.” The Baroness opened the outside door. “Wait out front for a minute or so, and then ring the bell.”

The heroines followed those instructions. One of the Leathergals opened the door to let them back into the building; a moment later, the Baroness reentered the room from the rear corridor.

“Hello, Vindiatrix, Shield Lass. I take it you got my invitation?”

Of course they’d gotten the Baroness’ invitation. That was why they’d come here in the first place. Vindiatrix remembered being angry and wanting to capture the Baroness and bring her to prison. At the time, she’d mistaken the message for a brazen taunt, not understanding that it was an offer to help. She didn’t understand why she’d reacted that way, but she was aware of the fact that she had.

“Yes.” She knew that she’d been angry at the Baroness when she’d first arrived here, but she didn’t feel that way now and wasn’t comfortable even pretending that she did. The word came out strained, uncertain, as if she didn’t know what she was thinking or feeling.

“And you’ve decided to consider my proposal.”

It sounded like a simple statement of fact rather than a question. The heroines paused in confusion. They both remembered that they’d come here believing that the Baroness was a criminal who needed to be defeated and brought to justice. That all seemed ridiculous now, of course. The simplest way to make sense of it was to follow her lead. After all, she remembered what had actually happened this evening. Apparently they had decided to hear her out. That made sense—they’d sometimes discussed some matter or other with an opponent before fighting and sometimes even avoided the fight altogether. This must have been one of those times.

It was all starting to make sense, the way so many other things had fallen neatly into place a little while ago, in the wake of their lovemaking. It felt right, and it filled a bit of the nagging gap in their memories....

“I... I think we should at least hear you out,” Vindiatrix finally said. It seemed to be the right thing to say, like calling the Baroness “Mistress” earlier.

“Very well. Follow me, and I’ll show you what I have in mind.”

They walked down the hallway, toward the back area and the stage. Two of the Leathergals trailed behind with hand-held cameras.

The stage looked almost exactly as they’d left it. The only apparent difference was that the cords and clips were gone from the platforms on which they’d been bound, with only attachment rings remaining to indicate where they had been.

The Baroness guided the heroines toward a little folding director’s chair near the front of the stage. She sat down, and the heroines stood before her. Cameras turned to follow them.

“I know that they two of you are attracted to each other. And, really, you both know it too.”

Of course that was true. They’d known it even back then, and they certainly knew it now. They nodded.

“Don’t just nod like a couple of bobblehead dolls! Say it out loud!” She turned to Shield Lass, “You first. Tell your partner how you really feel about her.”

“I...” Shield Lass had an odd feeling of deja vu. She must have must have told her partner the full truth about her feelings before, even if she couldn’t remember it. It was all very confusing. “I love you. I want to make love to you.” She didn’t feel at all nervous about saying that—after all, the two of them had already done the deed—but some instinct told her to act coy and uncertain, so she did.

“And you, Vindiatrix? Would you like to be part of a couple with your partner?”

“Yes.” She said it in a straightforward matter-of-fact manner. She generally did that, whether or not she felt as certain as she sounded.

“I see. It’s just as I thought... you want to be together, but you’re in denial and letting excuses stand in your way.” The Baroness waited a moment while the two heroines considered that statement. “I can help you, if you’ll trust me. I know that we’ve had our disagreements in the past, but can you honestly say that I’ve ever lied to you?”

“No.”

The Baroness turned to Shield Lass, indicating that she wanted her to answer for herself.

“No.”

“Will you trust me?”

The heroines were inclined to immediately answer “Yes.” Somehow, that didn’t feel quite like the right thing to do. They ought to be more uncertain, more tentative. They knew that they would agree, but only after playing a bit hard-to-get. Maybe another snippet of memory was resurfacing, reminding them of how this scene had played out the first time.

“What exactly are you asking us to do?” Vindiatrix finally replied.

The Baroness gave them a stern look. “I’m ‘asking’ that you place yourselves completely into my hands. Once we begin, I’m not going to ‘ask’ anything... I’m going to tell you what to do, and you will do it.” Her expression softened a bit, but retained a firm undertone. “That’s the only way I can help you. If you can’t agree to that, you may as well leave now. I won’t try to stop you... but if you do, this opportunity is gone forever, and you’ll have to live with the knowledge that you turned your back on it, and on each other.”

Vindiatrix and Shield Lass exchanged a long glance, looking to each other supportively... and longingly.

“Do you agree to trust me, and follow my directions?”

There was another long pause.

“Yes.” Vindiatrix spoke first, softly, her eyes slightly downcast. Shield Lass did likewise a moment later.

The Baroness smiled “Very good. Your first step will be to set aside your oh-so-respectable superheroine identities.” She let the heroines stare at her wide-eyed for a moment, then continued, “I said ‘set aside’, not ‘abandon’.” As the costumed crimefighters relaxed a bit, she waved toward stage right.

A couple of Leathergals entered, pushing a pair of mannequins on wheeled bases. The figures were dressed in the collars and corsets and boots the heroines had worn earlier, and also tiny thong bottoms.

“It’s time to cast off the baggage of Vindiatrix and Shield Lass for a little while, and your inner party girls Tribby Greatrix and Scissor Lass out to play!”

They stared at the suggestive outfits, eager to put them on again and start another round of erotic performance art. To the cameras, the expressions looked like simple stunned fascination.

“You want us to wear those outfits?” Shield Lass asked. She had a sudden feeling she was supposed to say that. Another fragment of memory, no doubt. She felt embarrassed at the silly and obvious question, and it showed in her tone.

“Yes, of course!” the Baroness replied. “The outfits you’re wearing now represent primness and propriety. Those outfits...” She waved toward the dummies. “...represent freedom and pleasure.” The Baroness smirked at the heroines. “Really, they aren’t that much more revealing than the curve-hugging costumes you already wear.”

“Where do we go to change?” Vindiatrix asked, agreeing without quite saying so. She also sounded self-conscious about the inanity of the question, especially since she was fairly sure she already knew the answer.

“You aren’t going anywhere. You’ll take your clothes off and put these new ones on right here.”

The heroines looked around at the cameras that were watching and recording the scene. They turned back toward the Baroness, looking like they were about to raise an objection but not quite working themselves up to the point of speaking up.

“Surely you’re not ashamed of your bodies!” The Baroness looked the women up and down, an appreciative smile on her face. “On the contrary; you have every reason to be proud of them.” Her expression became more serious as she continued, “As I said, stripping away those uniforms is a key step toward stripping away your repressions and inhibitions. Doing it in front of the cameras is an essential part of the process... it forces you to be honest with yourself, and your partner, and the world. Once you know that you’ve done this in front of an audience, and for the record, you won’t be able to lie to yourselves any more.”

Vindiatrix and Shield Lass paused. They wanted to simply follow their Mistress’ instructions, but once again vague feelings, not quite memories and not quite thoughts, told them to hold back a bit before proceeding.

“You can still back out, if you don’t have the courage to reach for what you both want. Again, I warn you that if you walk away from this opportunity, it will be gone forever.”

The three women remained still for a long moment.

Finally, Shield Lass bent down and began unzipping her left boot. “I... need this,” she whispered.

Vindiatrix flashed her a grin, then began removing her own boots. “Me too.”

The cameras moved in to capture each detail of the heroines’ disrobing. Torn between their desire for each other and the increasingly clear mental images of themselves doing this slowly and reluctantly, they fumbled at zippers and catches. They hesitated again once they were down to bras and panties and masks.

The Baroness held up a hand for attention. “To help get you into the proper mindset, take off each other’s undergarments.”

Shield Lass moved first, unhooking Vindiatrix’s bra and slowly letting it fall away to expose her breasts. She enjoyed the closeup view on one of the monitors while feeling a bit silly at how embarrassed she looked, apparently averting her eyes from the act rather than staring at a full frontal view.

She then turned around, inviting her partner to reciprocate. She suppressed a giggle at how prudish Vindiatrix looked, turning over her shoulder to see the display. Then she blinked in surprise as, before she knew it, her panties were tugged down onto her thighs and left to fall free.

Rather than turn around, she surprised the other heroine by reaching back and finding her panty waistband by feel. In one quick motion, she slid it down her legs.

They stood together, naked except for their masks. Were they supposed to take them off, too? It felt much more wrong to show their faces than to show their bodies....

“Leave the masks on, ladies,” the Baroness said, answering the unspoken question. “They’ll help you remember that you’re still the same person... just less repressed and frustrated. Tribby Greatrix and Scissor Lass were always there, underneath the all-work-and-no-play guises of Vindiatrix and Shield Lass. Now, you can express that side of yourselves rather than repressing it.”

She waved her riding crop toward the mannequins. “Now, get dressed.”

Vindiatrix reached for the thong on the “Tribby Greatrix” mannequin. “Don’t bother putting the thongs on,” the Baroness instructed. “They’re only for public appearances.”

“Public appearances?” Shield Lass asked.

“Yes, promotional public appearances. As I said, the knowledge that you’re performing on camera will help prevent your neurotic inhibitions from coming back to haunt you again. To thoroughly drive that home, these recordings will be published as adult entertainment. That will provide you with a constant reminder that prevent you from going back to your old bottled-up selves.”

The heroines paused to consider that. They felt no shame about their sexuality, and didn’t see any reason they should be reluctant to let people watch, but another round of faint half-memories suggested that they ought to act as if they were struggling with the idea. That, as best they could recall, was how it had happened before, so that was how it should happen again to help them recover the memories.

A Leathergal walked up to them with a couple of clipboards.

“Take your time. Think about this carefully. Once you sign on the dotted line, there’s no turning back. I could absorb the losses—after all, I arranged all this without knowing for certain that you’d even show up—but you would never be able to respect yourselves again if you broke your word.”

The two of them read through the documents. They were fairly straightforward, as legal contracts went. They established “Tribby Greatrix” and “Scissor Lass” as alternate legal identities, granted permission for the Baroness to use their images and recordings, and committed them to a six-movie contract with options for renewal.

“I understand that your schedules need to be flexible and subject to last-minute changes in case of emergency,” the Baroness told them. “I’m sure I can be more accommodating than whatever day job you have in your secret identities.”

Tracy’s freelance software engineering job gave her considerable leeway in that regard, but it was often difficult to juggle it and her superheroic responsibilities. Jenny’s college course load didn’t interfere as much with her time, but tuition wasn’t cheap. The hourly wages and profit percentages offered in the contract would help with both problems.

The more they looked at the forms, the more familiar they seemed. Only the final pages looked wrong. Their signatures were missing. Each of them felt the muscle memory of signing their new pseudonyms for the first time.

Two seconds later, the forms looked as they were supposed to, with fresh signatures affixed to them.

The Baroness beamed at them. “Congratulations, and welcome to Baroness Blackleather Productions!” She waved toward the mannequins again. “As I was saying before we were sidetracked, put on everything except the thong bottoms. The corsets and boots help set off your nice sexy shapes; the collars help remind you that, for now, you’re letting your inner sex kittens—or perhaps I should say sex tigresses—out to play, but the thongs would just get in the way.

They complied, with the cameras watching each move as the duo laced up each other’s boots and corsets. The lenses moved in and extended to full zoom to capture cleavage closeups as the corsets were tightened, then pulled back for full-body shots of the women showing off their new sexualized appearances.

Once they were fully dressed, such as it was, in the new costumes, the Baroness directed them toward the platforms. The tight boots made them sway a bit, and several cameras quickly maneuvered to capture the rear view.

“We’ve double-checked and triple-checked them to make sure there won’t be another accident,” the Baroness said reassuringly.

The heroines tensed, ready for trouble. “Accident?” Vindiatrix asked.

“That’s right, you don’t remember. One of the camera power lines got shorted out against the metal frames, and you both got a bit of a shock. It wasn’t serious, but apparently that’s why you don’t remember anything that happened for a while before that. I hope your memories are coming back now.”

Shield Lass nodded. “Yes, things are starting to fall into place. I remember doing all this before.” She looked thoughtful. “But there was also something else....”

Vindiatrix stared the Baroness in the eye. A flicker of her old hostility reappeared. “Yes... something about you using Climax Remodulators on us again.”

The Baroness looked puzzled for a moment, then blinked. “I remember you muttering something about a ‘climax remodulator’ after the shock, but didn’t know what you were talking about. Perhaps you were seeing and hearing things.”

Now it was the heroines’ turn to look confused. They remembered the Baroness gloating about what the Climax Remodulator would do to them, but they couldn’t quite recall the details. Mostly, they remembered that it was supposed to do things that were absolutely impossible, brainwashing its targets in a way that did not wear off and could not be resisted.

The Baroness had captured them and tried to brainwash them before... hadn’t she? The more they thought about it, the more that memory seemed like a wet dream rather than a real event. Maybe the whole thing was a fantasy, a way to silence any lingering doubts that what they were doing was right. That made more sense than the notion that the Baroness had tried to use some impossible mind-control technique to force them to do what they’d already agreed to do.

The heroines’ train of thought was interrupted when one of the Baroness’ minons arrived, carrying their utility belts. “Just to be absolutely certain, perhaps you should check for yourselves that there are no stray electrical connections anywhere around here,” the Baroness said.

Vindiatrix and Shield Lass scanned everything thoroughly. A half-dozen different sensors confirmed that there was nothing but solid metal and plastic and foam, with no sign of wiring or microchips or power.

“Once you’re satisfied that everything is all right, sit down.”

After one last magnetic sweep, they handed their devices back to the Leathergal and climbed onto the platforms. They lay back and settled into position. Vindiatrix reached up to squeeze her headrest, and Shield Lass followed her lead. It looked like a solid plastic shell, but it was soft foam, with no sign that it contained anything else.

“You’ll be nice and comfortable... once you’re strapped in!” the Baroness declared. Kristin the redheaded Leathergal approached, carrying a handful of cords and two small cloth bags that softly rattled as they brushed against each other.

“Both of you have made excellent progress in putting aside your doubts and fears and hangups. Now it’s time to wage one last all-out battle against them, and cast them out forever.”

Vindiatrix and Shield Lass already knew what that meant, of course. However, they were still processing their incomplete understanding of how they’d reached this point. Their minds were putting together fragmentary mix of memories of what had apparently happened before, inferences based on clues of what had happened before, and the Baroness’ descriptions of what had happened before. It was clear enough to indicate that they ought to go along with what was obviously about to happen, but fuzzy enough to leave them a bit hesitant.

The Baroness was understanding and patient. That was one of the things they loved about her.

“Your problem is that you want to have sex with each other, but could never get past the mental blocks that stopped you from doing it. The solution is simple: we’re going to tie you up and literally push you into a sexual encounter. Along the way, you’ll have time to get all your irrational objections out of your systems. By all means, try to break loose, try to protest, try to recoil, try to deny. That is an essential part of the process of overcoming your inhibitions once and for all. Your attempts to escape and resist will let you rationalize it away to the dark little repressed corners of your minds that still require excuses.”

Vindiatrix shivered as a finger stroked her inner thigh. “Once you try your utmost to escape and fail, you will feel completely free to surrender to the pleasure. By letting your inner demons of repression make this one final attempt to take control of you, you will defeat and banish them.”

Both of the heroines watched the Baroness as she reached into one of the bags. She turned toward them, dangling a pair of handcuffs from her index finger. “Just sit still, and allow us to liberate you.”

The two heroines sat still as the Baroness approached Vindiatrix with one of the bags, and Kristin approached Shield Lass with the other. They did not resist as their wrists were secured in the cuffs and attached to the frames.

The Baroness took Vindiatrix by the hand and guided her fingers to three little indentations. She felt buttons inside them. “If the bondage gets too uncomfortable, or you decide that you simply can’t go through with it, push all three buttons at once on either side.” The heroine felt around with her left hand, and found the same arrangement of recessed buttons on that side. “Try it.” She did, and the handcuffs instantly popped open.

Meanwhile, Kristin was demonstrating the same feature to Shield Lass. “Don’t hesitate to use the ‘chicken switch’ if you really need to stop this,” she said.

“I’m no chicken!” she replied.

Neither was Vindiatrix. She wasn’t at all nervous about this in any case. She’d already seen it through all the way, after all; this was just a repetition of what she’d done before. She allowed herself to look apprehensive, realizing that it would make for a better show and worried that she wasn’t pulling it off convincingly. The Baroness seemed satisfied enough, however. She flashed a reassuring smile as she refastened the handcuffs and began clipping the bondage cords in place.

Attachments were fastened one by one, binding their collars to the headrest frames, the corsets to the chair sides, and finally the boots to the jointed rods. The procedure was far slower than tying up a perp for the police. Each line was affixed to the heroine’s garments with a flourish, and then to the chair with another, followed by a brief pause for the cameras to realign for an optimum view of the next stage of the process.

Finally, they were secured into place. Motors whirred, and the mechanisms adjusted the platforms while lifting and spreading their legs.

“Is this bringing back your memories of how you did this the first time around?” the Baroness asked.

It was. Vindiatrix and Shield Lass recognized their position as the exact same one they’d awoken in after the accident. More and more things were clicking into place, clarifying how they’d volunteered for this originally and how they’d insisted on continuing after recovering from the shock.

“I remember... everything!” Vindiatrix said. She closed her eyes, focusing on images and sensations that seemed both new and familiar.

The Baroness held up a rubber ball with straps attached to it. “Do you remember this?”

“Yes...” Vindiatrix was a bit uncertain about that part. She remembered fighting against having the ball thrust into her mouth and fastened into place, but it was confused and fragmentary, mixed up with the Baroness ranting about her “Climax Remodulator”. That part of her recollection kept getting fuzzier, not clearer. More and more, she dismissed it as a hallucination caused by the shock.

“Do you remember how eager you were for me to gag you, to make sure you didn’t somehow talk yourself out of going through with this?”

“Yes.” That sounded right. It felt right.

The Baroness placed the ballgag against Vindiatrix’s mouth. She willingly allowed it to be inserted and strapped into place, then waited while the she repeated the procedure with Shield Lass.

The wait seemed to stretch on interminably while the cameras photographed them from every angle.

“Now, would you two like another session with the Scissor-Matic?”

Both of the bound women nodded.

The Baroness grinned. “One more ride with the training wheels, then.” The machinery ground to life, beginning to slide them together and tilt them into position. “Just relax and let it happen this time. This is just a teaser, to whet your appetites and hone your excitement about performing for the cameras. Save your stamina for the main performance!”

* * *

Have the Trusty Twosome truly turned to titillating thespianism?

If this is just the “teaser”, what perverse pleasures await our heroines in the “main performance”?

Tune in for “Bodily Bonding”, same SMUT-time, same SMUT-channel....

* * *

END CHAPTER