The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Chapter 1

After Martha Mothbag had changed into her bathrobe, she strode briskly into her study, where she sat down in the overstuffed chair in the corner and put her feet up on the footrest. Glancing over to her right, she picked up the television remote and powered up the large television affixed to the opposite wall. She heaved a deep sigh as she found the channel she was looking for.

A commercial for a local car dealership was nearly over. “So take it from me, Admiral Anticrime, that, although their prices may be a steal, everything here at Metroburgh Motors is on the up-and-up. So stop by today!”

The image of the superhero on the screen faded away in favor of a non-moving palette with a blue background with white letters giving the phone number and address of the car dealership.

Martha rolled her eyes. She reached over to the end table, picked up the large bell that stood there, and rang it.

Soon thereafter, her servant entered the room and said, “Can I get you something, milady?”

“Yes, Cletus. Would you be a dear and bring me a tall glass of lemonade and some peeled grapes? And make it snappy. I don’t want to miss the interview they’ve got on tonight!”

“Yes, milady.”

Cletus turned on his heel and walked out of the room.

A handsome man appeared on the television screen, holding a microphone as he spoke to the camera. “Welcome to Nightwatch. I’m Gordon Borden and I’m coming to you from Metroburgh Penitentiary, with an interview you’re not going to want to miss. Now, it’s no secret that our city has no shortage of evil villains who are always planning some dastardly scheme that would result in their ruling the city, if not more. It’s also no secret that the overwhelming majority of people who call these stone walls their home, do so thanks to the tireless efforts of our hometown hero, Admiral Anticrime.

“Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, I will be bringing to you the story of one of this prison’s newest residents, with the story coming straight from the horse’s mouth. And by ‘horse,’ I mean, of course, a villain named Melanie Felony. And by ‘mouth’ I mean… Um… I guess I mean her mouth. So you can take that part pretty much literally.”

Cletus returned with the food and drink his mistress had asked for. Without saying a word, he placed a tray on a table next to Martha’s chair.

“Thank you, Cletus.”

“It’s my pleasure. Is there anything else you desire?”

“Not unless you can tell me whether what I really want to know, will come out in this interview.”

“I’m sorry, milady. I can’t help you with that.”

“That’s all right. I’ll find out what I can, soon enough. You may go.”

Cletus turned and strode out into the hall without saying another word.

Martha turned her attention back to her television. The reporter was standing outside of the prison. “…few months ago, Melanie Felony had the city in the palm of her hand. Her henchman was the mayor’s personal assistant. By all reasonable observations, she actually had control over Mayor Minor himself as well as at least three members of City Hall. Not only that, but she managed to sow doubt in the hearts and minds of the populace, about Admiral Anticrime himself. But then she lost it all, the victim of one of her inventions, but exactly how she came to succumb to her own invention is one of the biggest questions that nobody quite understands.”

The reporter turned and walked down a narrow corridor, the camera following him close behind. The echoing of his footsteps off of the stone walls, the only sound coming through the television, added a sense of drama to the scene.

Soon, the reporter reached a small table. Melanie Felony, who was smiling broadly in anticipation of this interview, was sitting in a chair by the table. Her arms and legs were visibly shackled, and her hair was somewhat messy. The reporter sat down opposite her.

“Hello, Melanie. I want to thank you for taking the time to speak with me about yourself, your life, and the crimes for which you now find yourself incarcerated. I’m sure many of our viewers might be surprised by how young you look. If it’s not too personal, how old are you?”

Melanie gave a lighthearted laugh. “I’m 32. I’ll be 33 in about five months.”

“That’s pretty young! Plus, you weren’t in Metroburgh for very long when you got caught, isn’t that true?”

“That’s true.”

“What drew you to Metroburgh in the first place?”

“Actually, Gordon, it was my cousin.”

“Really? Would that be…”

“Levi Evil,” she said, nodding but with a passionless tone in her voice.

“And what did Levi do to convince you that you needed to move here?”

“Well, when we were kids and we’d play together, he’d come up with all of these brilliant gadgets and gizmos, but he’d never know what he should do with them all. When he told me he’d invented a weather machine, but couldn’t see how to use it to bring Metroburgh to its knees, I felt I needed to come over and give him a hand.”

“So what did he do wrong?”

“Well, as anyone who watched his first trial can attest, it wasn’t exactly the best of ideas to create a heat wave in the middle of the summer.”

“That’s true.”

“But with every challenge, there’s also always some opportunity, isn’t there?”

“Absolutely!”

“So I’m pretty good in the lab myself and I came up with this ice cream. Anyone who ate the ice cream became my personal slave. So the heat wave was enough to help with the business of selling it, and Levi and I were on our way to controlling the entire town. And to make things even better, people started to doubt Admiral Anticrime, his abilities, and his instincts!”

“So what went wrong?”

“I felt kind of sorry for Levi after his reputation as an evil scientist was trashed in the courts. You know, men are really easy to placate. Give them all the women they’d ever want and they’ll be fine.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s face it, Gordon. If any woman wanted to … have sex with you, right here, right now on live TV, would you be able to resist?”

“Um….”

“No. You wouldn’t, and don’t you deny it. Sex is where the real power lies and women would be wise to take advantage of it. What I did for my cousin, was shift the balance of power. I gave him something that would make it so that any woman he wanted, would be begging him for sex.”

“What’d you give him?”

“Just a little … facial creme,” she said with a flirtatious innocence in her voice.

“I … I see.”

“Of course, the creme didn’t last forever but all my cousin would have needed to do, was to meet a girl and he could get her to do anything, including eating some of my ice cream. It was… Well, I’m not sure I’d call it ‘foolproof’ since I underestimated how much of a fool my cousin could be.”

“So what happened, you fell under the influence of your cousin while he was wearing the creme or something?”

“Not quite. You see, my cousin kind of talked a bit too much. Even gave his real name to the girls he’d picked up. And when that happens, you can be overheard.”

“So someone else heard him?”

“Yup, and guess who got tipped off?”

“Admiral Anticrime!”

“Exactly! So the superhero goes in, gets some of the creme, and puts it on some schmuck’s face. I never even got the guy’s name but the next thing I know, I see him and I’ve become a victim of my own gift to my cousin. So while I’m doing whatever this guy wants—and I’ve got to admit, he was good—that’s enough to get Admiral Anticrime and the cops out to bust me. Cut to two months later, and, well, here I am. During the trial I heard that Admiral Anticrime had figured out a way to reverse the influence of the ice cream, so I couldn’t even use my clout with the Mayor’s office to help cut me a break.”

“Did you have any clout in the Mayor’s office?”

“Yes. I had control over the Mayor himself and several members of city hall.”

“So now you’re…”

“Serving 85 to life.”

“Some women are saying you’re a role model for women in the evil sciences. What do you say to that?”

“Well, I don’t know how much of a role model I am, but it’s always bothered me that there’s so many more men than women in the evil sciences. Men have no monopoly on scientific curiosity or talent. In fact, considering how easy it is to control men, I think that men should be in the minority!”

“Are we really that easy to control?” the reporter asked, without showing a trace of irony or emotion.

Melanie crossed her arms in front of her chest and peered down her nose at him, wordlessly expressing her complete lack of desire to debate this question.

After a brief pause, Gordon continued. “Well, what kind of advice would you give to any young girls considering a career in the evil sciences?”

Melanie smiled broadly. “Follow your dreams and your imagination. Don’t settle for second best. Don’t let your emotions get the better of you, even if they involve close friends and family. Be careful who you trust. And don’t do anything that could backfire on you.”

“Thank you, Melanie. I appreciate having this opportunity to speak with you.” The reporter stood up and stepped away from the table.

Melanie stood up. “It was my pleasure,” she said as the guard escorted her out of the room.

Martha picked up the remote and turned off the TV. “That’s good advice. It’s what I’ve been saying for a couple of years now. It’s good to see the message getting out. And, of course, it’s perfectly consistent with my plan!”

Martha sat in the dark of her study for about a half hour before she rang the bell to summon her servant.

Cletus appeared in the doorway a few moments later. “How may I serve you, milady?”

“Cletus, be a dear and get my car ready. I’d also like a couple hundred copies of my brochure to take with me.”

“Of course, milady.” He bowed low to the ground and disappeared as Martha chuckled evilly. Then again, how else would someone like Martha chuckle?

Chapter 2

Within a half hour, Martha strode confidently through the doors of the Sub Grub Pub and Club, a local establishment that she assumed ownership of a year before.

The bouncer, upon seeing her walking towards him, began stammering. “M-m-miss Mothbag! What… To what do we owe the pleasure of… of your appearance here tonight?”

“Oh, Jethro,” started Martha, her tone simultaneously condescending and genial, “do I need a reason to show up at my own club?”

“No, of course not. But it’s just that I usually have a sense of when you’ll be coming. Is everything all right?”

“Absolutely, Jethro. In fact, I need your help with something.” She placed a stack of pink papers on the table behind Jethro. “I need to make sure all of our female clients gets a copy of one of those sheets.”

Jethro picked up a page off of the top of the pile. “Looking to both heat up and cool down your hot nights? Come back here tomorrow night and participate in our wet t-shirt contest! Cash prizes and surprises will be given out all night!”

“Tomorrow, ma’am?”

“Is there a problem? Don’t tell me we’ve already got some event planned tomorrow night…”

“No, it’s just that…”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Very good.” Martha gave the bouncer a rueful smile and chuckled as she strolled confidently into the establishment.

Chapter 3

Martha Mothbag smiled broadly, unable to hide her delight at having found six young women willing to compete in her wet T-shirt contest. She called all six, who were dressed in plain white shirts with no bra underneath, and told them to come into a small meeting room behind the bar. They each took seats in small chairs arranged in a circle.

“I’m Martha Mothbag. I own this fine establishment and I want to thank all of you for participating in tonight’s festivities. I promise you one thing. Even though there is a cash prize for the contestant who actually wins the contest, there won’t be any losers tonight. Would you all please tell me your names and a little something about yourself?”

The girl sitting to Martha’s left spoke first. “Um. I’m Bella. I’m doing this because I figure if guys are going to stare at me anyway, I might as well get a little money off of it.”

Moving around the circle of chairs, the next contestant spoke. “I’m Stella. About a month ago, I was in one of these things on a dare from a friend of mine and, well, I just discovered that I liked it and I got some good money out of it all the same. What’s wrong with that?”

“I’m Gisella. Like the two of you said, there’s good money in this.”

“I’m Ariella. Yeah. Pretty much the same.”

“I’m Carmella. Like the rest of you said, ya know?”

“I’m Louella. I just like having guys look at my tits.”

Martha clapped her hands together and said, “Wonderful! Now, let me tell you the rules of this contest. I see you’re all wearing plain white T-shirts. Excellent. It doesn’t look like anyone is, but if you were wearing a bra, I’d be telling you to take it off, leaving your shirts being the only things preventing you from being completely topless here.

“Over there is a bucket of ice.” She pointed towards the door that led back out into the bar. “I recommend you use it before you go out to make your nipples nice and hard. That’ll certainly win you some members of the crowd, and they’re the ones who’re going to help me decide who wins this thing.”

Martha reached behind her seat and picked up a red fire extinguisher. “The way we do these contests is we empty out a few fire extinguishers and fill them with a special potion I created. It looks and feels just like water, but it’s actually got something—and this is why I say there are no losers—a chemical of sorts, if you would, that will attract any one you might want and, when you let them feel your soaked shirt, they’ll immediately become your willing slave, letting you do whatever you want to them, surrendering their entire mind and will to you and your whims, whatever they might be. I will activate that special chemical after the contest is over. That way you won’t be able to use your control over them to help you win this entire contest. Any questions?”

“Yes,” said Carmella. “I don’t quite get how just letting someone feel my shirt, will make him my slave.”

“You see, dearie,” smiled Martha, “We’re all such simple creatures. Let a guy—or a girl if you’re interested—touch your shirt while it’s still wet, and he’ll just … belong to you. Just like your shirt itself. And you can use him however you see fit. And I do mean, however you see fit.” She lowered her voice to emphasize those last four words.

“Um. Okay.”

“So if there’re no more questions, get out there and have some fun and get yourselves some slaves!” Martha clapped her hands and all six girls stood up. As they lined up to go out on the stage, Martha laughed and thought about how easy this was going to be. Too bad Admiral Anticrime wasn’t here to become a slave to one of these girls. Or was he?

Chapter 4

The DJ at the Sub Grub Pub and Club reached for the microphone as the current song began to fade out. “Ladies and gentlemen! It’s the moment you’ve all been waiting for! It’s been hot outside and we’ve found six lovely young ladies who know how to beat the heat. For themselves anyway. They’ll turn up the heat in here for the rest of us, so put your hands together for the contestants in our wet t-shirt contest!”

A small crowd of patrons at the bar looked at a raised platform in one corner of the building, and started to applaud.

“Let me introduce to you our first contestant of the night, the lovely Bella! Bella’s a student at Metroburgh State U., where she’s studying to become a veterinarian. Tonight, though, she’s going to be the animal! She just needs your encouragement to go truly wild!”

The applause picked up, with a few guys yelling and hollering indecipherable cheers.

Bella stepped out onto the stage, her nipples already visibly stiff and straining against the white cotton that covered her chest but left her midriff exposed. The DJ played a hard dance riff and Bella swayed her hips in time with the music.

After Bella had danced for a few minutes, the DJ lowered the music and asked, “Shall we soak her shirt?”

The audience that had been steadily growing since before she took the stage began to cheer and roar their approval.

Martha Mothbag stepped out from the same door from which Bella had entered, holding a small fire extinguisher.

The DJ said, “I can’t hear you!”

In response the audience yelled louder.

Martha smiled and aimed the red canister at Bella. As she squeezed the handle, a thick mist of liquid came in direct contact with Bella’s shirt, with some of the water hitting her stomach and chin. Bella wiped her chin with her hand and shuddered at the sensation. Her shirt immediately clung to her skin, losing its opacity in the process. She danced a little more, moving closer to the edge of the stage. She leaned forward, off the stage, shaking her chest tantalizingly close to the men who stood in awe-filled appreciation for her style, her grace, and, of course, her breasts.

The audience cheered more loudly as Bella caressed and fondled her own breasts through the translucent fabric of her shirt.

The DJ said, “Does she need another spritz?”

The audience roared their approval as Martha doused Bella with the fire extinguisher again.

After a few more minutes of dancing, the DJ said, “Thank you, Bella! We’ll call you back out at the end!”

Bella shook her ass as she returned backstage as the DJ called out Stella, then Carmella, Gisella, Ariella, and Louella.

After all six girls had had their time in the spotlight, the DJ called them all back onto the stage. Before they were even completely through the door, Martha sprayed all six of them one last time, to the raucous cheers of the crowd that ha now grown in size to approximately fifty people.

The DJ continued with the contest. “All right, ladies and gentlemen! Now’s the time you’ve all been waiting for! It’s time to declare Miss Wet T-shirt in tonight’s contest. The more energy you give to one of our girls when I call out their name, the better they’ll do. So you guys ready?”

A few guys yelled “Yeah!” to punctuate the loud applause.

“So who thinks Louella should win?” Martha made a “frame” hand gesture in front of Louella. The applause and cheers were somewhat loud.

“Who likes Ariella?” Martha repeated her gesture as the audience appreciation was clearly greater than Louella’s response.

“How about Gisella?” More cheers. “Carmella?” More cheers still. “I think some of you guys are voting more than once, but that’s fine. Who likes Stella?” The DJ waited for the cheers to die down and asked, “And what about Bella?”

The DJ looked at the owner of the club. “I don’t know Martha. I think it’s between Bella and Stella. What do you think?”

Martha gave the DJ a thumbs up.

The two finalists stepped forward and started dancing with greater enthusiasm. Bella lifted her hands in the air and jiggled her tits to the delight of the audience. Martha gave Bella an additional spritz from the canister. In response, Bella spun around, stuck her ass out for the audience, and spun back to face the audience, leaning forward to give the men whose informal opinions would determine victory or defeat, a glance down the front of her shirt.

Stella got down on her hands and knees and began to sway back and forth in time with the music. When Martha spritzed Stella, she rolled over onto her back, lifting her feet into the air and arching her back under the spray of the liquid. She began to grope and fondle herself, gasping as she faked an orgasm in hopes of gaining the approval of her audience. The crowd roared loudly.

The DJ asked again. “Who thinks Bella should be our winner?” The roar of the crowd echoed off of the walls and Martha needed to cover her ears. Bella gave a satisfied nod at the reaction.

“Who thinks Stella should be our winner?” The crowd was excited, clapping their hands and stomping their feet, making the floor shake. Martha needed to steady herself against the wall to keep from falling over.

“I think we have a winner! Congratulations, Stella!”

Martha handed envelopes to all of the contestants, with the one for Stella labeled “Winner” and the others labeled “Runner up.”

Stella opened her envelope and saw a note on top of her winnings. “Dear contestant,” she read out loud.

She looked up at Martha, who smiled and said, “Everyone got this note. You just get money on top of it.”

Stella continued reading in silence. “By the time you’re done reading this note, I will have activated the chemicals in the water we soaked your shirts in. Get a guy to touch your shirt, and he’ll be yours. If you suggest anything to him, he’ll agree to whatever you say. It’s really that simple. If you’d like to get even more guys to do whatever you might want, just meet me back here tomorrow morning at eleven. Bras are completely optional.”

Stella folded her note back up and stuffed it into the envelope with her winnings. She then went backstage and put the envelope into her purse.

Chapter 5

Within five minutes, all six girls who competed in the wet t-shirt contest were mingling around the bar, chatting up the men who had seen their performance.

Carmella smiled broadly, swaying her hips, and sauntered up to the guy she recognized as being one of her most enthusiastic fans. He nodded broadly as he watched her walk, quickly running his fingers through his hair before she stopped in front of him.

“Hi,” she whispered. “I’m Carmella.”

He looked her in the eye before lowering his eyes to her shirt, which clung closely to her breasts, her slightly stiff nipples still straining at the translucent fabric. He stammered, “Abraham Sandwich. You were very good up there.”

“Thank you.”

In the brief silence that ensued, Abraham stood, transfixed, on Carmella’s tits. Although she might once have taken offense to this, she appreciated his focus now. She thought about the note she had gotten as a thank you for participating in the wet t-shirt contest and decided that she needed to test out this means of controlling people. She grabbed his hand and brushed his fingers over the fabric of her shirt. She cleared her throat loudly.

“Yes, Carmella?”

“Um… How about you paying me five hundred bucks for the privilege of giving me an orgasm.”

“I, uh, I’d love to, but I don’t have that kind of money.”

“Then I’ll let you work it off for me as my slave. Sound fair?”

“Absolutely. Where do I sign up?”

“Just … come with me.” She held out her hand, which he took, and the two of them walked out of the bar together.

Martha watched this exchange and smiled broadly. Soon, each of the other contestants was leaving the bar with at least one person from the crowd.

Chapter 6

The following morning, all six contestants in the wet t-shirt contest returned to the Sub Grub Pub, where Martha greeted them with outstretched arms and a smile that stretched nearly as far as her hands.

As the villainess moved her gaze from the face of one woman to the next, she said, “I suppose you’re all wondering what that note I gave you all yesterday meant, huh?”

The former contestants let out a general murmur of assent.

“Before I get into that, I wanted to make sure you’re all … satisfied with what I gave you last night?”

All six women began nodding enthusiastically. In near unison, they all said, “Oh, yes!”

“Good. I think my scientific research can be deemed a success, then! All right. Here’s the deal. You all know how Metroburgh is overrun with evil villains and everyone in town is living in a near-constant state of fear of whether or not they’ll be the next victim of the next madman, right?

“Well, there’s only one superhero defending us all. And Admiral Anticrime is great and all, but… Well, if he were truly all that super, then people wouldn’t worry so much about being the next victim.

“Don’t get me wrong. Admiral Anticrime is a great man and deserves all of the adulation he receives. But if we learned anything from the trial of Levi Evil, then the evil villains will keep seeking out ways to undermine him at virtually every step. I think with the power we can wield over any man, thanks to the stuff of my wet t-shirt contest, we can both improve the good Admiral’s standing, ease his burden, and permit the people of Metroburgh to rest even more easy than they already do. Are you with me?”

“Um… How do we do that?” asked Louella.

“Just look at you all! Why can’t the six of you become a crimefighting team in your own right?”

The six girls shuffled slightly before Bella stood upright, stepped forward with her chest out, and said, “I think it’s a great idea!”

Ariella chirped her agreement. “And we could call ourselves … um… The Super Sexy Six!”

Carmella said, “Or maybe the Just-Ass League!”

The other three girls immediately responded, “Yes!”

Martha beamed. “The Just-Ass League you shall be, then! Would you please excuse me for a minute? I need to attend to something, but you can talk about how to make this a real crimefighting team.”

The girls murmured their agreement as Martha walked towards her office.

Cletus followed Martha Mothbag down the hall. “You tell a good story, milady.”

“You liked that? It sounds noble, I’m sure, but is there really any difference between weakening Admiral Anticrime and easing his burden? Eventually, we can make our move and try to enslave the police chief or Admiral Anticrime himself. But first thing’s first. Let’s try to gain the trust of the people of Metroburgh…”

Chapter 7

Once Martha returned from her office, Carmella said, “So where do we do begin?”

Gisella said, “I think we need to make costumes for ourselves. Maybe a white t-shirt with the letter J on it, for Just-Ass?”

Louella gurgled excitedly. “Yes! And we could all wear pink hot pants!”

Stella laughed. “Count me in!”

“Me too,” said Ariella and Bella.

Martha scoffed, but allowed the sound to quickly turn into a laugh. “I think it’s a good idea to get you girls superhero costumes, but I’m not sure that’s what Carmella meant. What can we do to demonstrate that we’re the good guys? How do we show the world that we’re going to put an end to the fear and terror that the evil villains of this city have instilled upon us?”

“Um….” started Ariella. “I guess we could … I mean, we can, like, track down an evil villain. I don’t know, like, Sociopathic Solomon or someone, and drop him off in prison…”

Martha nodded. “For what? I mean, I don’t think I’ve heard from him in at least five years or so…”

“He’s got to be guilty of something,” reasoned Ariella. “Why don’t we just haul him in and let the courts sort it out… I mean, I know that Sol was the one my mom always talked about when she wanted to scare me into acting right when I was growing up.”

“Me too,” said Louella.

“Right, but if he hasn’t done anything lately, and if he gets a good lawyer like what Levi Evil had, it won’t put us in a good light, will it?”

“No, I guess you’re right,” conceded Ariella, somewhat dejected.

“So what do we do?” asked Carmella.

Bella said, “We could listen to the police scanners and then go wherever they’re headed! We don’t have to take down an evil villain to start with. Just a criminal in the act...”

“Now that’s an idea,” said Martha. “The question is, can we deploy ourselves in time?”

“If we’re ready to roll,” said Bella.

Martha peered down her glasses at Bella. “Can we be?”

“I don’t see why not. How long do you think we’d truly have to wait before there’s a burglary or something?”

Ariella stepped away from the group, looking kind of sheepish. Martha noticed this movement and smiled. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just that I had … well, it wasn’t a very nice thought, but…”

“We all have naughty thoughts from time to time, dear. I hope you had some naughty thoughts with the guys you took home from the contest…”

“Not those kinds of naughty thoughts. I’ve got them all the time. I was just thinking … Who was it who said it? Was it Abby Hoffman in the 60’s, who said that if you don’t like the news, go out and make some yourself?”

“Yeah….” said Martha reluctantly.

“Well, why don’t we use our powers to induce someone to committing a crime, that way we can show up and foil the crime and get all the credit for it?”

“You’re right, dear,” said Martha. “That’s not a nice thought. But it’s still brilliant! Girls, what do you all think?”

“I say we go for it,” said said Stella.

“Me too,” said Bella. “But first let’s get to work on our costumes.”

The other three girls agreed with Bella.

“Fine,” said Martha. “What do you need to get your costumes complete?”