The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I guess, if you look at it from a certain point of view, I’m your typical teenage girl.

I’m nineteen years old, a senior at East River City High, a year behind the others because I completely SUCK at math, but finally, finally about to graduate. I’m five foot five-and-a-half, a little on the short side, which I can’t do anything about, with a cute, pixyish face, which I also can’t do anything about. And believe me, I’ve tried. When you’re my size, with long blonde hair, hazel green eyes, and soft olive skinned complexion, the only words that come to mind are CUTE, CUTE, and more CUTE! I swear, one day I’ll be sixty-years old with grey hair and bifocals, and seventy year old ladies will STILL walk by and pinch my cheeks and call me cute!

And so, after seventeen years of trying to fight it, I finally decided to accept it, and actually bolster that image. Jimmy says it’s not much of a stretch anyway, with my normally upbeat attitude, but I pretty much ignore his jibes. My older brother—older by a grand total of ninety-two seconds, by the way—is many things, but upbeat is not one of them. In a way, we’re kind of the perfect fraternal twins. We’re completely opposite of each other, in appearance and attitude. We’re like Yin and Yang; he’s the dark to my light. He’s also my best friend in the entire world, the one person that I can always go to for anything, and always know he will be on my side.

Twins are cool like that.

“Hey, Katie, is your creepy brother using the TV to play video games again, or can we actually watch movies this time?” my friend Jessie asked as we climbed the steps to my front door.

“Jess, how many times do I have to tell you, my brother is not creepy!” I said, trying hard to keep the edge from my voice. Even though Jimmy was the older brother, I was very protective of him. I certainly didn’t put up with people ragging on him, even my closest friends, and had lost a couple when my temper got the better of me, and I resorted to punching and kicking. Dad calls it my Scottish blood, but mom just says I’m short-tempered.

Jessie just rolled her eyes. “Look, Katie, I know you’re twins and all, and you have this closeness thing that us NORMAL kids don’t get,” she said, dodging the half-playful swipe I took at her head for the comment, “but c’mon. Even YOU have to agree that your brother is kind of creepy.”

I just sighed. Like all of us, my brother had been going through his share of growing pains, trying to find his place in the world amidst all the typical and not-so-typical problems we teenagers have to deal with. Lately, he’d taken to wearing all black, listening to grunge music, and sitting in his room in the dark for hours on end. It was like he was going emo or goth or something.

“He’s just going through a phase or something,” I insisted, unlocking the front door, letting us both in. “Do I need to mention that ‘Hannah Montana’ phase you went through a few years ago, when you died your hair blonde, listened to her music twenty-four/seven and were like ‘Oh my God’ every other sentence?”

“Um, no,” Jessie said, blushing hotly, “and I’m prefer that we never mention that ever again.”

We laughed for a few minutes, then made our way into the kitchen. We have a nice-sized house, I suppose. Jessie says we’re rich, but it’s not as if we have a live-in maid or a butler or anything. Sure, we have a maid that comes by twice a week to help clean up things a bit, but that’s it. My dad is an inventor of sorts, and owns his own business, but it’s not as if we live in a mansion or anything. Still, given the choice of where to hang out after school, Jess usually picks MY house. I reached into the fridge and grabbed up a couple of vitamin waters, then into the freezer to grab a couple of Hot Pockets.

“Well, the TV room is empty,” Jessie observed, glancing down the hallway. “Guess that means we can watch New Moon on the big screen.

Suffice it to say, my dad likes his entertainment. He works hard, so when it comes to relaxing, he likes to have all the amenities you can possibly get at his beckoned call. Our TV room consisted of a large couch sectional that separated into individual recliners capable of seating seven people at the push of a button. The room itself was wired for surround sound, and the ninety-inch Hi-Def plasma screen TV took up nearly the entire far wall. Needless to say, watching regular TV was better than going to the theater, so you can just imagine what watching a movie on Dad’s Blue-Ray DVD player was like.

“Alright!” I said excitedly, as we took our seats. “I’ve been wanting to watch this ever since they released it in the stores! It really sucks that I didn’t get to see it while it was in the theaters...”

“Well, if you didn’t have all those ‘extra-curricular activities’ after school,” she chided teasingly, “you’d get to do things like go to the movies with your friends.”

“Shhh!” I hissed, glancing around almost fearfully. “If you say something like that out loud, who knows what will happen.”

“Relax, Katie,” Jess said with a laugh. “It’s not like you’re your brother or anything. You’re not the one cursed with bad luck.”

I started to snap at her for the comment, but I managed to hold my tongue. It wasn’t an insult, not really. It’s simply a matter of fact that my older brother has a cloud of misfortune following him around. Dad, ever the consummate scientist, has logged a few hundred hours of research just recording the weird kinds of things that happen when Jimmy is around, coming up with theories and explanations as to why. Not that I understand even half of what he’s talking about. Like math, most science talk goes completely over my head. Which is weird, since my mom is a Physics professor, and my dad is a technological genius. I guess the smart gene skipped me entirely, and went straight to Jimmy.

Hmmmm. I wonder if Auntie Sarah had problems with math and science stuff, too.

“Well, you know how MY luck goes, too,” I reminded Jessie as the previews began playing. “Things tend to happen to put me in the right place at the right time, and if someone out there needs my help, then something will happen to let me know that I’m needed. And as bad as I want to watch this movie, if something bad happens—”

And, of course, speak of the devil, a loud crash sounds from somewhere outside in the street. Grumbling under my breath, I push the pause button as Jessie and I run to the window to glance outside. Sure enough, a massive disturbance is going on, the kind that usually needs my type of help.

Super help.

“You had to say something, didn’t you?” I groaned aloud, while Jessie just laughed ruefully. “It’s not funny, Jess! Sheesh!” I began unbuttoning my blouse and unzipping my jeans, kicking off my sneaks as I hopped my way over to the hall closet. “Just tell me you rented that for more than one day.”

“I got it for three,” Jessie said, still amused. “Just in case something like this happened.” She glanced outside the window again, thankfully giving me a little privacy while I suited up. “Who do you think it is? I can’t see anything from here but a bunch of people running and screaming, and a couple of overturned cars.”

I shrugged, sliding on the skin tight black and pink bodysuit. “Who knows. Overturned cars, could be a heavy hitter, somebody with A level strength.” I bit my lip slightly. I’m pretty tough, pretty agile, and I certainly have luck on my side... but I’m no powerhouse. I didn’t much like the idea of going toe to toe with someone like Stonewall Jackson, or the Ravager, or Steelhead... or any of the other dozen or so villains capable of wrecking the city with sheer muscle alone. I could always call my mom, or dad, or even Jimmy... but no. I’m a super hero, too. I could handle this. Eighteen years of being trained by some of the biggest heroes in the city had taught me one important fact: it’s not the one with the most power or strength that wins the day, its the one with the most heart.

If there was one thing I had going for me, it was heart.

“So, all suited up?” Jessie asked, turning back to face me. “Hmmm. Nice. But don’t forget your mask.”

“Oh yeah. Thanks, Jess,” I said, sliding the small eye mask over my face. “There. What do you think?”

“I think I can’t understand how you can go outside in that bright neon pink and black BODY STOCKING, that’s so tight it shows off all your curves, yet I can’t get you to even THINK about wearing a bikini whenever we go to the water park or to the swimming pool.” She sighed, shaking her head. “One thing is for sure. Anyone that knows Katie Ann Frasier would never even begin to guess you’re the ‘Light of Justice’.”

I blushed slightly at the title. Early in my career as a costumed crime fighter, I’d heard stories and tales from the ‘old guys’, from my mom and dad, to Aunt Eva, Aunt Veronica, Auntie Sarah, heck, practically everyone that had ever worn a cape or costume. Parker and Veronica Albinn, who helped train me in hand-to-hand combat, always stressed the importance of presentation. “Crime fighting is as much a mental battle as it is a physical one,” he’d told me once. “Be intimidating. Be colorful. Be creative. Be a clown. Whatever you do, make yourself memorable. Pick an image of yourself, and work hard to portray it to opponents you face. As you face more and more villains, your reputation will grown, and you’ll start to develop a name for yourself. Then, after a while, just the mention of your name alone will have the bad guys quaking in their boots!”

Taking that to heart, and still trying to fight my seemingly inescapable CUTE image, I’d dubbed myself Luminaire, the Light of Justice. I’d even yelled out at the bank robbers I faced on my very first attempt as a crime fighter, “Beware, evil doers! Surrender, or face the Light of Justice!”

Just try for a moment to image that. A twelve year old girl in bright PINK spandex, mask, and cape, stepping out of the shadows, demanding that a group of grown men, hardened criminals, surrender to her or face her wrath.

Seven years later, and I doubt those three men have stopped laughing yet.

Over time, my image improved, and once I started racking up a list of criminal arrests, I stopping being a joke. The title stuck, however, and as I’d learned with the cute thing, some things in life you just have to accept.

“Okay, wish me luck,” I said, channeling my powers, starting to glow with a soft pale white light. My body felt light, lighter than air, and I began to float towards the ceiling. Flying now, I made my way to the patio, and with a sudden burst of speed, I was airborne, and heading towards the center of the disturbance.

“All right, handsome,” the young blonde woman said calmly, stepping back as the broadchested man walked steadily towards her, “what say we talk about this, calmly, person to person? Over tea?”

“I’m not in the mood for talking,” a tall muscular, dark skinned man replied brusquely, gesturing to the side with his left hand, sending out a wave of seismic energy across the ground. “I’m in the mood for causin’ some damage, unless you give up the valuables. We’ll start with that nice chunk of change you got wrapped around your finger. Drop the ring, baby, or I’ll start getting... upset.”

“Well, considering the mess you’ve already made of this place,” I said, dropping in through the hole in the skylight, “I’d hate to see what you do when you get upset.”

The man scowled, giving me the once over. He didn’t seem impressed.

“Shit... what is this, revenge of the Powder Puff Girls? Heh. I’m not impressed, girly,” he said, mirroring my assessment. “Why don’t you run along now before I’m forced to give you a spanking.” He turned back to face the young woman who he now had cornered against a wall.

I sighed inwardly. It was bad enough being completely dismissed as a ‘non-threat’, but to be compared to a cartoon superhero, and incorrectly to boot?

“Sorry, bro, but I can’t do that. You seem to be bothering that nice young lady, and I wouldn’t be much of a heroine if I let big brutes like you go around picking on nice young women, now, would I? And for your information, its POWERPUFF Girls, not powder puff! If you’re going to insult me, at least get the reference right. ”

“’Bro’?” he said, whirling around to face me again. “Did you just call me, ‘Bro’? Are you dissing me ‘cause I’m black? Are you some kind of racist super hero bitch or something?”

Bitch? Racist!?! “Hey! Wait a minute!” I said, indignantly. “First of all, I’m not a racist! I didn’t—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know your type all too well,” he said, walking towards me now. “You put on a costume and a mask, and think you’re the shit, ‘cause people look up to you. ‘Cause you’re the ‘big hero’, and everybody LOVES a hero. So, you can do whatever the hell you want, you can say whatever shit you like, just as long as you stop the bad guy? Right?” He stomped his foot and the building shook down to its foundation. “You assume you can get away with calling me ‘Bro’ just because I’m black, that all black men are ‘brothers’, and that by calling me that, you are establishing some kind of rapport with me. That you suddenly KNOW me, even though you’ve never met me before if your whole damn life!”

This was getting really surreal. He was beginning to remind me of Samuel L. Jackson, doing one of his famous rants, like in Pulp Fiction or something. For a moment, I was so off guard from him calling me a racist, and the way he was going off on me that I’d forgotten that he was a criminal, that he’d just destroyed a good chunk of a city block and most of this jewelry store we were currently arguing inside!

“Hey! Hold on, buddy!” I said angrily. “First of all, I’m not a racist. And before you go off on a whole new tangent about me calling you ‘Buddy’, you seem to be glossing over the fact that whatever race you are, you just broke into this jewelry store, and are robbing and threatening customers! That makes you a criminal in my book, and a menace to boot!”

“Yeah, maybe so,” the man replied, smiling nastily, holding up both his hands in apparent surrender, “but if nothing else, this bit of dialogue between us has allowed me to get closer to you without you even noticing.” Which, suddenly, I did notice. He brought both of his hands down in a sweeping motion, and a wave of seismic energy came crashing down around me, literally bringing the room down around me.

I think I let out a scream as the floor underneath my feet collapsed. I’m not really sure. When you’re in the middle of your own personal class 10 earthquake, it’s a little hard to know exactly what’s actually happening, and what’s just inside your head. All I know is that I put my hands above my head, and closed my eyes, hoping that I’d somehow manage to live through this. The sound, like a lion’s roar echoing endlessly over and over obliterated everything else, even rational thought, so much so that it took me several moments to realize in the silence that followed that it was over. I peeled open one eyelid and glanced around, then sighed softly in relief. I was still alive... well, obviously, if I could still see and hear everything around me. Well... you know what I mean.

I sat in a small depression of the floor, caused by the concussive energy of that guy’s seismic blast. Several chunks of the roof, stone and metal supports, lay all about me, strangely enough. spread about me in a neat circle, none of which had actually fallen ON me. Furthermore, a large section of the roof that had fallen on the spot where I’d been standing had struck a metal support beam set free in the quake, knocking it just far enough to the side to miss me.

This is what I meant when I mentioned my uncanny luck earlier. Mom and dad theorize its somehow connected to mom’s ability to alter a person’s present, that it deals with... um... altering probabilities... or... something. I dunno. All I know is that I have incredibly good luck whenever I need it the most. I once blindfolded myself, then handcuffed my hands behind my back, and sprinted through Dad’s automated training room on its highest setting without so much as a scratch. Then, afterwards, without the blindfold or handcuffs, I tripped, walking across the doorway into the next room to see how I’d done, and tore my jeans on a nail. Didn’t so much as scrape my skin, but my jeans were ruined.

If I ever learn how to control my good luck fairy, my wardrobe will breathe a deep sigh of relief.

“Huh? Wha... what the FUCK?!?” the dark skinned criminal exclaimed as I stood up from the rubble, completely unscathed. “That... that’s impossible!”

“As I repeatedly tell the criminals I bring to justice,” I said, almost from rote, as I focused my photonic energy into my hands, “unlikely, very very improbable, but NOT impossible.” I molded the light into a familiar shape, similar to the lightsabers used by Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker, only my version was more of a blunt tool than a laser blade capable of cutting through solid matter. Swinging my makeshift weapon like a baseball bat, I stunned the would-be jewelry thief with the first hit, and knocked him off his feet with the next. He groaned softly, lying in a heap on the ground, and with another bit of photonic manipulation, he was tightly restrained in a pair of light energy handcuffs.

“That should hold you until the police arrive,” I said with satisfaction, then glanced around the room. Crap! I’d forgotten about the woman with the expensive ring that he’d threatened in the beginning! “Hey! Hello? Are you in here? Are you okay?” I yelled, picking my way quickly but carefully through the rubble. The store was in a shambles from the mini-quake, with metal and brick strewn about all over. I felt like an idiot. I was sloppy, and I’d gotten distracted, and the bad guy had gotten the drop on me. Worse, if the woman hadn’t managed to escape before all the rumbling started, she could be lying somewhere in here, hurt, injured... possibly even—

“Are you looking for me, dear?” the woman’s voice called out to me from behind. I turned, and saw her, safely, outside in the street with the rest of the store patrons. I breathed a sigh of relief, nodding, as I made me way back towards the entrance. I created a makeshift photonic sled and dragged tall dark and gruesome out with me. No sooner did we cross the threshold of the building than the rest of the roof caved in.

Talk about your close calls.

“Are you all right?” I asked the young woman, then the rest of the crowd. “Is anyone hurt or injured? The police should be he shortly, but I can call for an ambulance as well if anyone needs one.”

“No, I think we’re all fine,” the young woman with the ring said, smiling. “Thanks to you. I shudder to think of what might have happened if you hadn’t shown up when you did. Thank you very much. We all owe you our lives.”

“Um, well, think nothing of it,” I said, blushing hotly. “It’s my job, after all. It’s what we heroes do.” I focused my energy inward, glowing slightly as I lifted off from the ground. “Well... if everyone’s okay, I better get going. My parents are gonna kill me if I don’t get home soon.”

“Wait!” the young woman called out as I started to head skyward. “Who do we have to thank for our lives? What’s your name?”

“I’m Luminaire,” I said with a smile, brightening my glow as I streaked across the sky. “The Light of Justice!”

The young woman nodded to herself as she watched the girl fly off. She twisted the ring around her finger idly, considering. Hmmmm. She’s just about as cute as they come. A little green, but nothing little proper... ‘training’ cannot fix. She seems about perfect for the program... and in the meantime, she should serve as a sweet little diversion for me and the girls.

Walking away from the ruins of the jewelry store, she smiled to herself. The Light of Justice, hmmm? Such a pure white soul she has. We’ll have to see if we can’t add a little darkness to the mix.