The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Serpentina grumbled softly to herself as she made her way to the private conference room of her penthouse suite. This was an inconvenience that she neither needed nor desired. She hated having to interact with these fools, but propriety stated that she had to at least pretend to be social. They were, after all, her partners, her peers, though she couldn’t bear to think of them as her ‘equals’. Moreover, despite their partnership, she was well aware of how they thought of her, how they spoke of her when she was not around. They hated her, hated having to share their territory with her, hated having to deal with her at all.

The feeling was beyond mutual.

Nevertheless, they were stuck with each other. She could no more divorce herself from the other members of her cabal than they could of her. And... not for the want of trying. There had been a number of attempts on her life over the years, carefully covert and anonymous, but she knew for a certainty who was behind each and every one.

Ah... but I’m still here, she thought smugly to herself. I’ve taken the best they had to throw at me, and I’m still standing. And until now, I’ve been content to simply ignore the attempts, and insults, to simply continue coexisting for our mutual benefit, as long as they stayed out of my business. This little ‘summons’ they’ve decided on... they’ve crossed a line. And this time... I’m not about to roll over.

Sitting down in her recliner, making herself comfortable, she activated her remote satellite link and the military-issue encryption key, and turned to face the view screen. After a moment or two, the static resolved itself into a face... then another, and another. Three familiar faces, the heads of the nationwide underground criminal Syndicate, each one the leader of their own section of the nation. In their own way, the four of them were among the most powerful and influential people in the country, through their control of the drug and sex slave trade. And staring into their scowling faces, knowing how deeply they wished she were a part of the latest shipment going out, she smiled.

“Gentlemen,” she prompted, taking control of the conversation from beginning, “and I do use the term loosely, I have taken the time from my busy schedule to meet with you on this video conference as requested. And since my time is valuable, and yours... presumably so... let us dispense with the false pleasantries and get down to the reason we’re all here.”

The oldest of the group, a white haired old man with a hooked nose coughed loudly. “Fine then. Down to business. Serpentina... you’ve gone too far this time. We’ve overlooked your... indiscretions, as such, for a long time... turned a blind eye as you burned money and resources for your own personal projects. But this... feud of yours with Blackfinger... it has got to stop. And right now!”

Just as I thought, “Feud? There is no feud between us, Warren. Merely a difference of opinion in minor matters that are not your concern.“

“Not OUR concern?” the second man, a short dumpy-looking man with heavy wrinkles and slicked back, oily black hair. “You know as well as I do that a majority of our product travels through River City, and between the police and the costumed ‘capes’ circulating in that area, we are heavily dependent on his good will and his connections to maintain a steady and reliable pipeline! Now that you’ve insulted the man, and pissed him off, he’s all but closed that pipeline down!”

“Precisely!” the third man, a small thin balding man with frizzy grey hair and thick glasses chimed in. “Warren and Fritz are right! This bad blood between the two of you affects us all! And for what? To get revenge against some young boy who snubbed you?”

Serpentina scowled, crossing her arms at her chest. “So... you’re really going to there with me, Ignancio? As I recall, six years ago, you spent over a million dollars, about two thousand men, and seventy-thousand dollars worth or property damage—all pursuing some call girl that snubbed you, then went on the run when she figured out who you were!” Ignacio had the grace to look away, embarrassed. “And Warren, wasn’t it you who declared war on the Triad operating in your area last year when you got food poisoning at that take-out restaurant, and thought it was an attempt on your life? And when it turned out that EVERYONE who had eaten there that day had gotten sick, including three Triad lieutenants, didn’t you end up having to pay off a pretty hefty bribe and surrender control of part of your territory to broker a truce with them afterwards?”

“Alright, alright,” Fritz cut in abruptly, before she could list his own shortcomings. “We get the message, None of us are perfect. Still, none of those fiascos bled over into YOUR territory, or caused YOU any problems. What you’re doing is costing US money!”

“So what?” she fired back. “It’s a minor inconvenience to you at best. Hell, you can each take it out of my share of this month’s profits.” She sighed deeply. “There are more important things that money you know. Respect is definitely number one of my list. Umbra disrespected me, and I’ll have my revenge on him!” Her slitted jade green eyes flashed brilliantly for a brief moment. “As for Blackfinger... he, too disrespected me, but we deal with out ‘friends’ differently than we deal with our enemies. As long as he takes no direct action against me, I’ll take none against him. If he does... well, he should expect me to respond in kind.”

“You’re a fool, Serpentina,” Warren shot back angrily. “Blackfinger isn’t some low-level hood that you can threaten or boss around! The man has connections! He has money, power, and the resources to crush you, you self-important little upstart! I’ve dealt with him before, face to face. The man is brilliant, cagey, and diabolically clever! The only thing he truly lacks is ambition; if he had that, he’d be sitting in that chair talking to us instead of you!”

Serpentina bristled at the insult. This is what it all truly boiled down to in her mind—the fact that everyone disregarded her out of hand, underestimating her, looking at her and seeing only her body, her good looks, but missing the shrewd and cunning intellect housed within. She’d proved herself time and time again, working her way up from a low-level enforcer, to a hunter, to lieutenant, to captain, and finally, after a very bloody, entirely epic bout, to assuming the mantle of Boss over the entire northwest branch of the Syndicate. She’d paid her dues and then some...yet even now, one of her own contemporaries was telling her flat out that they preferred some wrinkled up billionaire geezer in his own private ivory tower, to a hard working girl like herself—simply because she was a girl!!

“Let me spell it out for you all, plain and simple,” she growled, eyes flashing again. “I’m not afraid of Blackfinger. At all. The man has connections and resources? Big deal. So do I. He has money to throw around? Me too. In fact, if not for one or two MINOR products that he provides for us, we wouldn’t need him at all! " She slammed her fist down hard on her desk for emphasis. “I will NOT be made a fool of. Ever. By anyone! If anyone tries to mess with me, I mess with them back. And I always pay it back tenfold. I owe Umbra, and I plan to carry through with my plans of revenge, whether you three approve or not.” Her eyes narrowed. “And let me again make myself crystal clear—I will NOT tolerate ANYONE getting in my way. I don’t care if its Blackfinger or the three of you—nobody disrespects Serpentina!”

“Watch yourself, girl,” Fritz growled back, hackles raised. “Don’t forget who you’re talking to! I don’t put up with disrespect either, even from my comrades-in-arms! If you are thinking you can challenge us—”

“I’m not THINKING of challenging you, you old fool. I AM challenging you. Right now,” Serpentina replied, angrily. “You three think you can’t be gotten to? That you’re safe inside your mansions and penthouses, and secret hideaways? Well, you each might want to check inside the bottommost left drawer of the desk you’re each sitting at.” She smiled at the looks of wariness coming from each of the men. “Don’t worry, I’ll wait.”

Slowly, wary but not quite convinced, the three men glanced down away from the view screen and slid open the drawers as requesting. Then each of them gasped in surprise, finding a small wrapped box sitting there in plain sight, with an attached card. They glanced back at the view screen moments later, each notably paler than before.

“H... ow... how did you...” Warren sputtered.

“Of... all the unmitigated...” Fritz seethed.

“How DARE you!?!” Ignacio growled.

“Gentlemen,” Serpentina replied with a calm, smug, superior smile, “As I said before, there’s no need to worry. The gifts are completely harmless, just little trinkets to remind you of me. And to prove my point—anyone can be gotten to. ANYONE. Remember that the next time any of you thinks about sending an assassin after me. And before you even pretend to be upset or outraged at the accusation, understand that I interrogated every one of the would-be killers sent after me before i killed them. I know precisely who sent which hit man, and why.” If possible, the three men went paler still. “And, I’ve just proven that, if needed, I am able to respond in kind. In short, gentlemen...DON’T. FUCK. WITH. ME!” Saying that, she switched off the view screen, severing the connection and disconnecting the scrambler.

Well... that was a complete waste of time, she thought to herself, but at least I got the chance to take all three of this fuckers down a peg or two. Those presents were a nice touch—I’ll have to give Carol’s team a special little bonus for that—and I suspect the three of them will be too busy trying to figure out how I knew where to find them and trying to discreetly pack up and move to a more secure location.

Checking her cell, she saw that she’d been texted while on her conference call. Reading through the message, she grinned. “Ah. Looks like Rodriguez managed to get away free and clear and is en route right now. I should have the imprinting serum by early tomorrow morning. And my other men should have Umbra brought to me as well, in just a few hours. And then....” she laughed aloud. Then the REAL fun begins!

Somebody else had been watching Serpentina’s smug face as she delivered her ultimatum to the Syndicate bosses and signed off...someone who should not have been privy to these discussions at all. He watched, taking another bite of his steak, as the Syndicate bosses, all still on their video conference hookup, picked up their “presents” and examined them.

The contents of the boxes were exactly as Serpentina intended, a ticking alarm clock and a laminated picture of a mushroom cloud with the word “BOOM!” scrawled across it. However, the card that had been attached to each box was different than the one Serpentina had prepared. It was a simple white card with realistic looking sketch of a jet-black index finger.

The three bosses looked at each other for a long moment. Ignacio spoke up first. “Are we agreed then?”

The others merely nodded their heads, still a bit dumbstruck.

Ignacio sighed. “Okay. Blackfinger, if you are listening...you’ve made your point. Take care of Serpentina and we will be sure that you get what you want.”

“However,” piped in Fritz, unable to contain himself, “I, at least, would once again like to remind you of our counteroffer, in hopes that you would at least consider it. The Western Region has been a mess since she became capo. It would be nice to have someone in charge there who could restore a little...order—“

“Fritz,” said Warren, “Let’s not go there again. It’s clear he doesn’t want it, or he’d already have it.”

“Fellas, we’ve been through this too many times already. It is what it is. If that’s all gentlemen, then good night,” said Ignacio. He and Warren winked out.

Fritz, however, gave it one more try, “Just...just think about it, okay?” And then he was gone.

Nigel finished chewing the last bite, and washed it down with carefully-selected vintage Pinot Noir. It was not easy to outmaneuver that crazy bitch, but he had managed it once again. I’m going to have to deal with her permanently, and sometime soon, But not until there is an obvious successor. Well...other than me. The last thing I would need would be for the whole Western Syndicate to collapse. God, the power vacuum alone would cause untold mayhem. What if the Yakuza decided to step in? Or the Russians? Or—God help us—the Fist? He couldn’t even repress his shudder at the thought of that crazy mind-control cult running the whole west coast.

As he was lost in his thoughts, his schemes, Delores came in to clear the meal. Nigel’s long-time personal/family chef, Josephine Horton, had taken some vacation time. So Delores was filling the gap, taking care of everything herself. It was better that than bringing in a stranger that Nigel didn’t trust. That never went well.

He looked over at the older woman, still lovely in spite of her years. “How are you doing these days, Delores? Seems like we never talk anymore.”

“Well,” she said, teasingly, still working at bussing the corner of his desk, “If you would come home once in a while you’d see plenty of me. We could talk whenever you want.”

“Considering that ‘home’ is only about fifty feet from ‘work’,” he quipped back, “I’m practically home all the time! Hey, I was home all evening just last night!”

“Yes, on the day I had promised to take the kids to a movie,” she parried, “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were avoiding me, Nigel. I just...never mind.”

She wished she could tell him everything, but back in the beginning he had...done something to her. She was sure he didn’t even remember it, but she certainly did. She couldn’t forget. But I can’t worry about that. Literally! I CAN’T! So maybe I should just nag him a little instead... “Seriously, Nigel. You really ought to relax more. You have two kids that adore you, and a harem full of eager, beautiful women. Last night was a good start. I don’t know what you said to Patricia, but she was like a new woman this morning. Just...spend some time with us. Join us for breakfast or dinner once in a while. We miss you.“

Nigel sighed softly, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Delores, more than any of the others, tended to walk a fine line between coddling and pushing his buttons. She’s only a few years older than me, yet she keeps acting like my mother! And it’s almost as if she actually enjoys the role!

“Okay. okay,” he conceded, “I get the message. And ...I’ll try. But honey, you have to understand the reason WHY I’m always so busy. One unfortunate fact of my life is that I have a lot of very dangerous enemies. And that makes it a fact of your life too, and of the other girls’ lives, and the kids’ lives. The reason I work such long hours is not so much to provide for the future. I mean, how much more financially secure could we get? It’s to make sure that we are all there to enjoy that future. It’s to keep all of you safe. I can’t let my guard down. Not yet.” Seeing her frown of disapproval, he sighed. “Look, I’m working on letting go, really I am. Having said that, I can’t let go until we are safe as well as comfortable. But... you’re changing the subject. I want to see more of you, Delores. Why don’t you put yourself back in the rotation? Every night in my bed doesn’t have to be all about wild, crazy, passionate, monkey sex. I’m reliably informed that Patricia and I are pretty good at just cuddling too.“

“No, I don’t think so, Nigel. First of all, I wouldn’t make any friends by making the other girls all wait a day longer for their turn.”

“Now Delores, you know that none of them would begrudge you anything.”

“Well, maybe. But more important...Nigel...just being around you...it makes me...Dammit! I’m horny as hell right now, and we’re both fully clothed and talking about a possible theoretical night of light cuddling. I still have a hair-trigger when it comes to you. I always will. And when I cum...it HURTS.“

And there it was. They avoided each other because their love caused her pain, real physical pain. Life just wasn’t fair sometimes. Even more so because of the anxiety buildup, year after year. Nigel had not been a very experienced mind controller back in the beginning, and Delores was his first full-on sex slave. He made a lot of mistakes, some big and obvious, some not. And he really didn’t care about us yet. Thank goodness he learned to love us. We’d all be basket cases if he hadn’t! But some of the early commands he gave Delores...they really messed her up. He made her betray her friends, which was bad enough. But when she had tried to talk to him, to work out her feelings, he had told her to shut up about it. He had told her not to give it another thought.

Those are relatively innocent things to say in normal conversation, maybe not kind, but not life shattering either. However, when you are saying such things to your mind-controlled love slave, they have rather...far-reaching consequences. So now I’m stuck in this endless cycle, trapped in my own head for the last twenty years! And I can’t even tell anyone what the problem is. It’s buried so deep that even Connie hasn’t noticed it. After all, I can’t even think about it. He told me not to. But it’s still down there, somewhere, eating me alive.

Not for the first time Delores wondered if her physical symptoms were somehow an outgrowth of her decades of unresolved, repressed guilt. But she would never know because she was not allowed to think about it. And nobody else would ever know because she was not allowed to talk about it.

Nigel, for his part, knew there was something there, some unspoken pain inside her, besides the biological issues of her arousal. He knew it was something he’d done, or hadn’t done, but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what. And he cared for her, deeply, as much, if not more, than all of his other girls. It was annoying, and infuriating, knowing there was something wrong but not knowing how to fix it. The problem, that is, not Delores. He could never truly be angry at her.

“Delores,” Nigel said at long last, still sensing her disquiet, “you know I love you.”

“Yes, yes Nigel, I know. I love you too.”

“I know I’ve told you before, but I’m sorry I was such a bastard in the beginning. If I could take it back you know I would.”

She nodded her head. There was nothing to say, because she literally couldn’t say it. So she took the dirty dishes back to the kitchen. Tawnya and Robbie were on cleanup duty tonight. Of course, they were getting more water on each other than they were on the dishes. She tsked at them, and they teased her, and she handed her load off to them. Then she called it an early night.

Rose Contretas, Ghost Girl, sat there in the seat of her loaner car, more than a little confused and more than ready to get some answers. Fortunately, her boss had equipped his agents with the best and latest bit of Fraiser Tech for surveillance and tracking. Watching the strange woman in the silver car exit her vehicle, she zoomed in to capture an image of her likeness. With a click, the picture was sent wirelessly back to her supervisor at HQ for facial recognition analysis.

“GG, come in,” her supervisor called a moment later.

“I’m here, Sir. Go ahead.”

“The results came back with a ninety-nine point seven three six two percent match... something I find rather ironic, all things considered...”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“The facial recognition software we use was created by the person it just scanned. That’s Dr. Stephanie Brooks, special agent and chief analyst for the FBI...and currently the subject of a nationwide manhunt involved in the covert attempt to sell nuclear weapons to terrorists. She’s listed as armed and very dangerous...but it seems the authorities are focusing their attentions in the DC and New York area.” He sighed. “Typical.“

Armed and very dangerous? she mused silently, watching the renegade agent swiftly dispatch the two men guarding the entrance. No kidding.

“What should I do then?” Ghost Girl asked aloud, exiting her vehicle, drawing her weapon as she approached the entrance to the abandoned building before her. “If she’s a national fugitive, should I eliminate her if I get the chance?”

“Negative,” he replied immediately. “There’s a standing order to law enforcement to seize and apprehend her, but do not kill.” He sighed again. “The way this reads, it seems she’s been brainwashed somehow...she’s a helpless pawn caught up in all this intrigue. And, likely, the only one who knows who is the mastermind behind all of it. The orders are to take her alive, if possible.”

Huh. Alive...if possible? Fine. Guess I should at least make an attempt. She removed the safety on her pistol and cocked it as she made her approach. But I can also read between the lines. My first priority is to safeguard my charge. If it comes down to a choice between Brooks and the Frasier boy, then Brooks goes down.

Inside the old penitentiary, Stephanie glanced around, frowning, a flashlight in one hand, her gun in the other, scanning the area. Despite her calm outward demeanor, she was anxious about this assault. She was alone, outnumbered, and in hostile territory. Her best chance at completing her mission had just been snatched away from her moments ago, when the target and her thrall had both been abducted right from under her nose! It was frustrating to say the least.

Damn that boy’s luck! she grumbled to herself, Only HE could get caught up in a bleeding kidnapping plot for some wealthy socialite he’d never even met before! She frowned, sweeping her light back behind her at a sound she thought she heard, before sweeping back in front of her again. Damn...I hate this. Flying blind, no intel, no idea of what I’m facing. It would be so easy to just walk away and leave him to his fate—” a small but insistent surge from the back of her mind squashed that line of thought before it could even fully form “—but Master’s orders were clear. I need confirmation. It’s too much to simply HOPE these petty thugs do the job for me. She turned briefly to her right, shining her light at another imagined sound, a footfall, again seeing nothing. She sighed continuing on.

It’s like the old saying goes. If you want something done right, do it yourself.

A sensation, or feeling, or perhaps intuition, warned her at the last second. Whirling, she brought up her silencer equipped weapon, firing off a shot as she drew back, only to gasp in shock as a pale woman shaped figure descended upon her, hands outstretched towards her. At which point she was imminently thankful for the chip controlling her actions; had she been acting of her own will, she would no doubt have passed out cold from fright. Instead, she turned, firing off two more, before dropping into a crouch a few feet away.

The apparition scowled at her, its face hidden mostly from view by the translucent grey hood of the cloak covering her. “Damn... better reflexes than I expected,” she said clearly, her form shimmering slightly before becoming solid. “Dr. Brooks, I presume?” she said with a smirk. “I know why you’re here. And sorry, I can’t allow you to go any further.”

Stephanie’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t say? And I suppose you intend to stop me, Miss Phantom?” She chuckled darkly, her mind racing, trying to figure out exactly what she was up against. “You don’t impress me, Spooky. Bigger and better than you have tried to take me down, but I’m still here.” The hand behind her gently thumbed the flash grenade hooked to her belt. If she could find an opening to use it, she was fairly confident she could stun the other woman enough put her down, powers or no powers. Even if she proved resistant to the blast, it would still serve as enough of a distraction for her to escape, and make her way down to the lower levels and her target. She merely needed to wait for just the right moment...

“Not going to work,” Ghost Girl told her flatly, taking a few steps back. “I know what you’re trying to do. Taunting me? Trying to get a rise out me? Hoping that I lose my cool, and act recklessly, giving you an opening?” She chuckled drily. “Sorry. I might have fallen for that back when I was a kid, but not now. I’m not the naive, starry-eyed girl I used to be. I’ve grown up quite a bit over the years.” She pulled her own weapon now, aiming the photonic pistol at her adversary. “If you’ve still not a card left to play, you’d better play it now.”

Both women stared at each other for a long moment, neither blinking, trying to read the other. Finally, Stephanie sighed, lowering her gaze, and her weapon. “Okay. Fine. You have me at a distinct disadvantage. You’re a Super, and I’m just a normal woman with no powers. I can’t beat you.” She scowled, bringing up her wrists. “So what now? Gonna ’cuff me and haul me in to the authorities?”

Ghost Girl’s smirk widened slightly. “Something like that. But first things first. Toss your weapon onto the ground over there.”

Stephanie sighed deeply, sliding a hand behind her again, even as she made a show of holding up her handgun, finger off the trigger, reversing the grip. “Alright, Spooky...” she said, slowly lowering herself and the gun to the ground, “anything you say.”

“Shit!” Ghost Girl yelped as the woman’s hand pulled back, revealing the stun grenade. She went full ghost, sinking quickly into the ground as Stephanie turned and ran, sprinting towards the doors at the far end of the compound. Rose cried out silently as the shockwave struck, forcing herself not to panic and to stay calm, focusing her concentration to stay intangible, letting the energy and vibrations wash through her harmlessly.

Fucking bitch, she growled inward, surging back up out of ground. Turning solid just enough to push off from the ground, she leapt skyward, flying after the running federal agent. Taking aim, she fired a blast of her own, catching the hair haired doctor just before she reached the doors. Crying out in pain, Stephanie crumpled, collapsing to the ground in a heap.

Coming down to rest on the ground a few feet away, Ghost Girl glanced around the area, wary for sounds of someone approaching. After a few more seconds of silence, she let out the breath she was holding. Edging forward , her gun still trained on the unmoving woman, she nudged Dr. Brooks lightly with her boot. The doctor groaned softly, twitching slightly from the effects of the disruption, singed but still alive. Rose let out a soft sigh.

“Just so you know, Doctor, I don’t blame you for what you just did,” she said quietly. In a series of movements so familiar that they were practically automatic, she pulled out another smoke, lit it with the ember from the old one, ground the dead butt into the dirt, and took that first, fresh, satisfying hit.

“I don’t blame you at all. You’re just a puppet...a little clockwork wind-up toy, marching along to the beat and rhythm of the one who wound you up.” She sighed deeply, glancing away for a moment as painfully seductive memories surfaced momentarily. “Yeah. I know what that’s like. I know what it’s like to be unmade, to have your will, your mind, your very being twisted and changed on the whim of some psychotic madman...to have everything you believe in taken from you...to have your entire life DESTROYED...” She was panting now, breathing hard, half in barely repressed rage, the other in equal parts unbridled arousal.

The memory of her own enslavement still sang deeply to her, even after so many years. Even now she had to admit that she had never been happier in her life. Back then, all she had to do was serve Master, make Him happy, and bask in the bliss of His rewards. Her eyes welled with tears. An image came to her, unbidden. Kneeling, naked but for her slave collar, side by side with her fellow slave—her best friend, her mentor, her betrayer—both of them staring up into the eyes of the monster holding their leashes, blissful adoration written in their hearts and on their faces. Yes. I never felt so good in my whole life...And Goddess willing I’ll never feel that good ever again. With a herculean effort, and the help of another long drag, she wiped her eyes and forced herself calm again.

“I know what you’re going through,” she repeated after a moment, her weapon still trained on the unconscious woman. “And it would probably be a blessing for me to place my gun against your temple right now and pull the trigger...and save you from dealing with the aftermath.” Reluctantly, she holstered her weapon, flicked the ashes off of her smoke, and knelt down, lifting the unconscious woman by the shoulders. “Unfortunately for you, that’s not why I’m here. When this is all over and done with, you’ll have to deal with your own demons, just like I did. For now,” she grunted, dragging her over to an empty cell, placing her gently onto an empty bunk, “you sit here and rest.” Stepping back out, she closed and locked the door, then made her way to the double doors and the hallway leading to the basement. “I still have a job to do.”