The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

There was no denying it

By JHB

There was no denying it, she was beautiful.

He could only see her in silhouette at the moment, working on something at the far end the dimly-lit room where he found himself. Even her outline was stunning, 5 feet and 11 inches of almost impossible perfection. If she would only turn and . . . but that was how he got into this predicament, wasn’t it.

Through the cobwebs that had grown in his mind, the Raider began to put recent events back together, hoping to discover how she had captured him. He may have been the youngest of the Advocates of Justice, but he had seen his share of battles, traps, and enemies these past few years. His own power of flight, which he acquired after being exposed to gamma radiation (actually, the mysterious Magi who led the Defenders of Justice said the radiation manifest latent powers, and he should know, having lived about 2,000 years, but that was another story) had proven to be an asset to the team on more than one occasion and an effective enhancement to the martial arts skills they helped him develop. Nor was he exactly slow-witted; one couldn’t get into the doctoral program in Applied Sciences at prestigious Eastern University and be stupid.

Yet she had gotten the better of him, and the whole team . . . what had become of the team? And what was she doing over there, moving about and, he began to notice, gently humming something. Her back remained turned to him, or else she might have seen his eyes flutter open, she might have seen him trying to strain at his bonds. And she stepped from place to place, occasionally bending over, the outline of her legs blending into her perfectly sculpted ass so that he found himself hungering to reach out and . . .

No, he had to focus. It was only two weeks ago that she had even shown up on his team’s radar. They didn’t normally concern themselves with scam artists and petty-by their definition, anything that didn’t threaten to collapse a national economy-thieves. In the first place, they truly were more concerned with justice, and righting injustice, than they were law enforcement. In the second place, most local police, the FBI, et cetera, were usually quite competent to handle that sort of thing. And, in the third place, what would become of most communities if every bank robbery or mugging was followed by energy bolts, tossed taxis, and costumed heroes hurtling through the air?

So they took very little notice of her at first; he could only guess at how long she had been turning men’s heads just enough to get herself jewels, furs, as many creature comforts as she wished and enough negotiable securities to support her lifestyle. It was impressive that she had managed to elude capture, but he had chalked that up to her knack for moving on just before anybody got wise to what was happening. That was before he’d met her and recognized her intoxicating beauty, evident even from this angle, in this muted light, a form that was causing his pulse to race and . . .

No, back on task. Struggle to recall. It was when her base of operations moved from Southern California to the Rocky Mountains, to a community that was unremarkable save for its proximity to Iron Mountain, that their curiosity was aroused. AROUSED . . . oh, yes! . . . er . . . no . . . not now. Growing reports of various officers and technicians-male and female-behaving strangely, coupled with persistent intelligence chatter about a certain syndicate with ambitions toward compromising missile defense systems worldwide, prodded the mighty Defenders of Justice into action. Last night, they dropped in unexpectedly-or so they thought-on the one nightclub in town, the place where she was doing her hunting. Yet they were the ones who were surprised when almost every patron, several brandishing weapons, leapt to her defense. As if their battle wasn’t hampered enough by the need to avoid injuring innocents, some of whom were valuable scientific and military assets, there seemed to be . . . was it really something in the air? The team was growing more and more aggressive toward the men, inappropriately so, and finding the women more and more distracting.

But they were finally able to turn their attentions toward her: her red hair, cascading almost to that perfect ass; her black satin sleeveless, strapless dress, hugging her form, with a skirt that cascaded to the floor yet was slit almost to the hip, exposing her stiletto heeled, thigh-high leather boots; her red lips and long nails and impossibly green eyes. They all began to move toward her, as she sat calmly in the midst of the growing chaos and destruction. He thought they were all moving toward her, but Magi, Spider, and the Rocket all seemed to have been turned back again by the brainwashed rabble, leaving the Raider pressing forward alone. With each step, however, he found himself growing warmer and weaker, frightened but deliciously stimulated, stumbling but drawn into those eyes until everything went black.

And now he was here . . . wherever here was.

And so was she.

There was no denying it, she was stunningly, intoxicatingly gorgeous.

And she had noticed he was awake.

“Well hello, darling” she purred as she turned, calmly but oh-so-seductively, towards him. “Isn’t that so sweet . . . you’re trying to figure out who I am, why you’re here, how you might escape and even . . . capture me? All of you, but especially the men, are so easy to read. Sweetness, I imagine you won’t care about that very much longer”—she took another step, and another, her heels clicking on the cold stone floor—“but I don’t suppose it will hurt to indulge you a little for all you will soon indulge me.”

Somehow, those words sent both a cold shiver down his spine and electric quivers through his groin.

“I am an . . . well, it is a word you haven’t heard and probably couldn’t pronounce. Let’s just say that your human legends of succubi and vampires are all based, to one degree or another, on us. My kind feed on your life energy, which is most accessible during sex. We are able to attract and confuse the males and females of your species by channeling our pheremones. The timbre of our voices can be modulated in ways that manipulate the electro-chemical systems of your bodies, like this.”

A slight . . . not quite coldness . . . in her voice, and he was having trouble breathing.

“Oooo, you ARE powerful.” The purr had returned; his breathing eased, though his pulse increased. “Most men I have met would be unconscious after that.”

She was getting close enough for her to see her enticing cleavage, those milky white . . . no, focus dammit!!

“And through our touch, my kind are able to directly effect the pleasure centers of human brains. All of these abilities together, of course, make hypnotic suggestion quite easy on the rare occasions when it is even necessary.”

He knew how he was doing against the pheremones and the voice. It was lucky that his body suit-one like everyone on the team wore, with just a bit of armor in it and a secret mode of removal-was still on, to almost completely insulate him from that touch until . . . But why was he feeling a breeze across his stomache? He looked down to see that he was naked, lying atop his cape, and he suddenly remembered . . .

He hadn’t blacked out immediately in that club. There, at her feet, he had crawled after her when she had left the room, had stood at her command in the dark corridor, had felt waves of pleasure, and then had told her how to set off the electrical pulse that causes the suit to fall to his feet. How could he have been so easily swayed? How could he have given away such a crucial secret? The Raider was cursing himself for such weakness, and realized she was almost on top of him.

He was melting into her voice again. “Now, don’t be so hard on yourself, baby. You must have realized by now that your arrival in that club didn’t exactly surprise me. Indeed, this has all been a delicious, meticulous trap. I was making quite enough for the creature comforts that I enjoy through my simple activities, while at the same time feeding on just enough human energy for my needs-leaving trails of dead bodies would draw far too much attention. But I had heard about you”—he sighed as his cock swelled a bit—“and the nature of your special power that gives you flight. I think you are the type of human who comes . . . or should I say cums . . . only once every eight or ten generations or so. Your chaste life, high ideals, and repressed morals let this gift channel itself in flight. But if I could turn you more toward LUST . . .” she audibly sighed at the thought . . . “you could live almost as long as me, in a symbiotic, erotic feeding relationship.

“And, even if it doesn’t work,” she licked her lips as she ran a crimson fingernail up the length of his left leg, “you will be a most delicious feed.

“I spent these two weeks near Iron Mountain merely to get the attentions of you and your little friends. The rumors about intelligence chatter had nothing to do with me, really; just a convenient happenstance started by this country’s paranoid defense establishment. And it clearly worked. You all arrived, almost on cue. I was able to befuddle the minds of your comrades to the point that they don’t even remember there IS a fourth Defender of Justice. And, if they ever do, and decide to track you via the sensors in your body suit, they will have months of what you would call a ‘wild goose chase’ ahead of them.”

She was now whispering in his ear, idly stroking his hair. Then she stepped back, dropped her skirt, and got a new gleam in her eyes. Were they actually turning a somewhat brighter shade of green? “And now, here you are.”

And here she was. And there was no denying it, she was the most irresistible, magnificent creature he had ever seen. And she wanted him. Wanted him carnally, both as a meal and as a personal sex toy.

And he wanted . . . no, he had to . . . had to . . . had to focus.

“Oohhh, baby, sweet baby, why do you want to do that?” Both hands were stroking his hair, as it were; one hand luxuriating in the hair on his head as her eyes bored into his, the fingernails of the other idly playing with his pubic curls. “Why do you keep trying to shut your mind off to me? Why are you still struggling with this sense of duty?”

He spoke for the first time in . . . how long had it been? “You cannot be left to roam free. It is my job to stop you. I am supposed to . . . supposed to . . .”

“Ooohhh, sweet baby” she purred, and he started drowning in her eyes, and it felt so good just to be lost, and . . . and he had to focus! He used every mind discipline technique he had learned in ten years of this job, every bit of the special gift she had seen in him, gathered up every last atom of his will, and, doing his best to ignore his nudity, brought authority to his voice.

“Why are you bothering with all of this?” He didn’t wait for her answer: her stroking continued; her voice would completely undo him. “Why the conversation? Why the seduction? You could clearly have had me, almost certainly kept me, at any point since I followed you out of the club. Why wait?”

“Who says I waited?” Her eyebrow arched, her tone changed slightly, he felt himself get uncomfortably warm. As she moved her hands away, a new flood of memories returned to him. He hadn’t just stood for her in that corridor; he had literally climbed up her legs, kissing his way up her body-he’d have burrowed into her pussy had she allowed him access-worshiping her breasts and neck, and being rewarded with a deep kiss. He remembered feeling a wave of energy (did he even see it?) leave him and enter her. He remembered that he would gladly have given her more, surrendered everything, died into her, but she had commanded “Stop,” rather matter-of-factly, at that.

Even in his feverish state, as the memory passed, his mind back in this, this cavern where he was bound, he felt himself begin to blush at his behavior.

“I never waited,” she said, stepping back. “I took an appetizer that allowed me to be even more in tune with you. But your human . . . you call it ‘will,’ yes? . . . is such a strange and wondrous thing. I could have crushed it, hours ago, but it will be soooo much sweeter, baby, when you give it, and yourself, to me.”

She had stepped away, and, starting at her cleavage, drew her finger down. Was there a zipper, or was her garment dissolving at her touch? But, with the skirt long since gone, the bodice-teddy-whatever (his training didn’t help him with such terminology) fell away, leaving her breasts standing just as proud as before, as if they had held the garment up, not vice versa.

She smiled knowingly, seeing that he was clearly . . . moved by what he saw.

“I suppose you believe you should find your friends,” she blithely remarked. “If you want, you can just fly out.” She gestured toward a shaft of faint light, a clear exit.

“But I am bound . . .” he almost said “Mistress.”

“You are?”

“Suddenly, he realized that he was able to move his arms and legs, and sit up. He never had been restrained, except in his mind.

“You have been remarkably firm . . . in your convictions. You still seem to know what you should do” she said as he stood up, trying to cover as much as possible with his cape. The stone was cold, but he seemed to be gathering his strength and balance.

“But what do you want to do?”

He took a step, watching for a trap, but there seemed to be none.

“Always the should,” she said, idly fondling herself, her gaze burrowing into him. “What do you want? If leaving is what you want,” her voice dripped sex, “then go.”

He turned to . . . walk straight for her. No, this is wrong! He clutched his cape tight around him, but steadily moved toward her. She smiled, knowingly, and took him fully into her eyes. One last extension of her pheremones: “What do you want, baby.”

His cape opened, and she stepped into it. A glow passed between them. He was hers.