The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Natasha paced the small chamber. Her brilliant mind raced, as she tried to concoct some sort of plan. She knew that it was only a matter of time before she would no longer be useful to the villain, and she did not relish the thought of what might happen then. So far, she had not been able to find any obvious ‘weak link’, but there was certainly a degree of friction between The Anaesthetist and his minions. Maybe that was something she could exploit.

Without warning, the cell-door opened with a sharp hiss. The pretty scientist whirled around, unconsciously covering herself as best she was able. She found herself looking into the eyes of her captor, and blanched when saw how he stared, appraising her, like a piece of meat.

“Good news,” he began, apparently not noticing her discomfort. “Your formula works perfectly.”

Natasha tensed, that was what she had feared. Now that she had done what he wanted, his use for her would be at an end. It took only a moment to consider all her limited options, but none seemed likely to achieve anything positive. She knew that she was hopelessly outclassed physically. Her only hope was that she could use her mental superiority to her advantage.

“Now, about our deal,” he continued easily. “I think that it is time for us to re-negotiate.”

The young woman nodded, this was, after all, what she had been expecting. “So, you aren’t going to let me go free, as you promised?”

The villain appeared to consider that, before answering. “Well now, you have completed your part of the bargain Natasha. But I can’t help but think that a woman with your talents would be very useful to me. So, here is what I propose. I will honour our bargain if, when you reach the exit at the end of this corridor, you still wish to leave.”

Natasha tried to understand what the villain intended. It couldn’t be as simple as he was suggesting. Obviously he planned to use some trick or trap to thwart her attempts to leave. However, despite that, it was almost certainly her best chance of escape. She hadn’t come up with anything better, despite the time she had spent planning.

“Okay,” she said, trying to sound confident despite her concerns. “If I still want to leave when I reach the exit, then you’ll let me go free. No other conditions?”

“None whatsoever, pretty Tasha,” the villain laughed, stepping to one side and ushering the scientist out of her cell.

Meanwhile, the vibrations had stopped again, allowing Ampere another brief respite. Shakily, she reached out with her powers, and found the cloud of minute energy signatures once more. For a moment she marvelled at their complexity. But then, realising that she had little time, she rapidly began to explore exactly what these things might be.

Nanites? She didn’t even know that such a thing was possible, let alone that someone had built them. Her first thought had been to drain their energy, using it to try to defeat the vibrator’s shielding, but now that she understood what they were, she formed a new plan.

It would take several pauses between the cycles of pleasure, but the young heroine knew that she had found a way to escape her imprisonment. All she needed now was the time to complete it. Almost immediately, the patch began its evil work once more, and the heroine felt herself slipping back into semi-consciousness.

Natasha began to walk carefully down the corridor. She looked back and gritted her teeth in irritation when the villain waved cheerily at her. The scientist managed to repress her urge to sprint towards the exit. She knew that something in the corridor would try to stop her escape, and she didn’t wish to run blindly into whatever it was.

Behind her, The Anaesthetist carefully inserted tiny plugs into each ear. Then, using his remote, he activated the security system. Behind his mask, the villain smiled, anticipating what was about to happen.

By now, she was a little under halfway to the exit. Her anxiety was building, she knew that something was about to happen and this waiting was just making things worse. She didn’t notice the soft buzzing, which was gradually building, the sound emanating from hidden speakers. Even if she had, there was little the young woman would have been able to do about it.

Suddenly, just as she took another step towards the exit, there was an ominous ‘click’. She had a split second to decide what to do, and reacted almost before she had time to consider, relying purely on instinct.

Natasha jumped backward, trying to avoid whatever trap she had activated. Unfortunately for the hapless doctor, her captor’s recent experience suggested that heroines nearly always jumped backwards under these circumstances, and he had planned this trap accordingly.

As the doctor leaped, a metal plate shot up vertically, directly behind her. She impacted, backside first, into it and this triggered a series of tiny needles to jab cruelly into her unprotected buttocks. Natasha yelled, mostly in humiliation, at this unexpected assault. Then she felt a warm tingling sensation and knew that she had been drugged.

The toxin worked quickly, and her legs began to buckle slightly as she stepped away. Still reeling, she did not notice the two poles, which sprung up ahead of her, one on either side of the corridor. The poison continued to spread, and it was all she could do, to stumble towards the exit.

The villain watched as Natasha blundered into the thin film, which was stretched taut across the passage. It was transparent, and even in perfect conditions, almost impossible to see. In her drugged-state, the young woman really had no chance.

As soon as she touched the film, the metal poles whirled dizzyingly about her. In seconds she had been wrapped from neck to ankle, her arms pulled tightly against her body. Moments later, the poles began to blow out hot air, effectively ‘shrink-wrapping’ the weakly struggling woman.

The Anaesthetist sauntered over to where Natasha had been trapped. He could see her struggles slowly weakening as the toxin took hold. By the time he had reached her, she stood still, meekly accepting her imprisonment. She only remained standing because the poles still held her upright.

“Oh dear,” he whispered. “So, tell me, Tasha, how do you like the chemical you brewed up?”

Natasha continued to stare straight ahead, her features unusually calm and placid. Her eyes were by now, completely blank and glassy.

“It’s nice,” she said, after a pause.

The villain smiled, unable to hear what she had said, but reassured by her demeanour. Very gently he began to massage her body through the plastic film. As he did so, he spoke softly, his voice calm and assured.

“Natasha, you are now wrapped up tight in my slave-film,” he began. “Its sole purpose is to take strong-willed, independent women, like yourself, and turn them in to helpless, weak, obedient Good Girls”

Thanks to The Confectioner’s chemical, these lies easily slipped past the doctor’s analytical mind and into her subconscious. The idea of a slave-film sunk into her brain, becoming real and believable despite all that she knew.

The Anaesthetist continued, building on the theme and taking full advantage of his prisoner’s suggestible state.

“I will leave you now, and allow the film to complete your programming,” he said, as he typed commands into his remote. “I expect that you are beginning to feel some of its effects already”.

Natasha could feel herself becoming more aroused, but she couldn’t tell if it was the drugs, the villain’s massaging hands or this insidious slave-film. Her thoughts seemed to float, just beyond her reach, vanishing when she tried to grasp then. It was so much easier to just stop worrying, to relax and surrender, wasn’t it?

“So nice and sexy to be reprogrammed isn’t it, Tasha?” Asked the villain as he saw her pupils dilate. “Such a wonderful experience to be made my slave. You know that is what you are, don’t you, Tasha? After all, you already wear my collar, what else could you be but my slave?”

“Yes,” breathed the doctor, finding it so much easier to let someone else think for her for a while at least.

“Good girl!” laughed The Anaesthetist, “I shall leave you now, and let the conversion continue. I’m sure when I see you again, you’ll feel like a completely different person. Why, by then, you probably won’t want to leave my lair at all.”

With that, the villain happily walked away, leaving Natasha helplessly absorbing the subliminal commands that had been hidden in the constant background buzz and hum.

“No,” he thought to himself, “She wouldn’t want to leave at all once he was finished with her”.

But, at that same time, while Natasha was fighting a losing battle with The Anaesthetist’s technology, Ampere was once more having a short reprieve from the otherwise relentless buzzing. The heroine tried to clear her mind, fighting the exhaustion and whatever concoction was dribbling out of her gag. Now, she needed to focus, this would be far harder than merely perceiving her surroundings.

Extremely carefully, she pushed her consciousness towards one of the minute energy sources. There were defences, but with her powers, they may as well have not been there at all. In a moment she had interfaced with the nanite, discovering a network of connections. Fighting the almost overwhelming desire to close her eyes and sleep, Ampere began to make some changes, subverting the tiny machines, and adapting their programming to her own ends.

She felt the patch start its next cycle and silently cursed it. Inadvertently, she bit down on the rubber ball, sending more of the liquid down her throat, almost making her choke. But, in the few brief seconds before she succumbed once more to drugs and pleasure, the plucky superheroine had managed to communicate her final command. Now it was all up to the machines, because until the vibrator paused again, Ampere was lost.

“Upload Complete: Safety Interlocks Disengaged,” Stephanie saw, after an interminable wait.

She reached up, pushing lightly against the inside of the chest. The metal buckled, and the mechanical lock squealed in protest for an instant, before failing catastrophically.

“Go Get ‘Em Tiger!”

Stephanie stood, uncoiling with almost feline grace from inside the storage chest. Only, she was now a completely different woman from the one that The Gadgeteer had so easily captured.

At first glance, it appeared that she had been coated with a thin sheen of silver. But, the differences went deeper than that. Stephanie’s body had been reformed. Even her flaxen hair was now chrome, each individual strand picked out in argent highlights.

The changes were far greater than skin deep, however. The nanomycelium had replaced most of her muscle bulk with myomer bundles and torn away the myelin sheaths that protected her nerves. Cooling fins projected from hidden compartment along her spine, and her left arm seemed to have exploded into the business ends of myriad weapon systems.

Stephanie regarded the laboratory, her vision flicking between spectral modes. Mistress was in trouble, and everything had contracted into a single imperative. She would lay waste to the entire building, if needs be, to find the woman who had just become the centre of her universe.