The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Artemis Adams tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for the con hall to finally open. This was always the worst part—waiting outside for them to open the doors and let the throng of con-goers slowly file into the hall. Just waiting for things to happen was not something she had to do often in her life.

A passerby whispered to their companion, “Wow, look at that Omega Girl cosplay! It must have taken hours to get everything right.”

Artemis smiled. Unbeknownst to the other attendees around her, she was indeed the one and only Omega Girl. About four years ago she had attended a convention in costume on a lark, and she had been hooked ever since. It was hard to describe what she liked most about it. If she had to put it into words, it was being able to be her true self out in public and not have the world burning. To just be another face in the crowd—not Omega Girl or billionaire socialite Artemis Adams, but just “that one really good Omega Girl cosplayer.” In her life, it felt like she was always being what other people needed her to be: a stalwart hero who was always in control of the situation, or a high-society sophisticate living a life of luxury. It was a welcome break to just be an ordinary person at a con for a few hours.

The line started moving, and Artemis sighed in relief. She flashed her badge, and when she came to the metal detector she pressed a button on her belt and went through just fine.

Artemis decided to wander the convention center and get a sense of where everything was. She was stopped a few times by people asking for her photograph, and eventually found herself in the artist alley.

Wandering through the artist alley, Artemis stopped to examine the photography of a booth called “Cosplay Camera.” She frowned. Although the technical aspects of the camera work was incredibly impressive—the angles and framing were impeccable—Artemis couldn’t help but notice that most of the women in the photographs (and it was almost all women) were in very passive, sexual poses. In fact, several of the women looked like the only direction they had been given was “make bedroom eyes at the camera, and look sexually appealing and available.” It just seemed so... wrong. These women were dressed up as superheroines—powerful forces of nature, practically gods—but the cameraman just brought them down to the level of sexual objects.

She turned her nose up at the sexist images and was about to walk away, when she heard the man behind the counter try to get her attention.

“Do you like my work?” he asked.

Artemis tried to deflect while remaining polite, “It seems like you like your work, and that’s what matters.”

The man shifted a little. It seemed he could see through her non-answer.

“Well, do you mind if I get a picture? Your Omega Girl cosplay is incredible.” he asked.

She sighed, but nodded her assent. She stood up confident and strong, consciously posing in a position that emphasized her power and dominion as a counterpoint to the pictures in front of her.

Flash

Artemis blinked several times, as the flash was unusually bright. A distant tingling sensation played across her scalp, midway between a pleasant scalp massage and a headache, but that feeling was fast to fade.

“My name is Mark by the way,” the man said. “Feel free to take my card if you want a copy of your photo.”

Artemis was about to scoff, and walk away now that she had done Mark the courtesy of allowing him to take her picture. But as she was turning around to leave, the pictures on the wall behind Mark caught her eye in a way they hadn’t before. Maybe she had been too harsh earlier.

“Mark, I’m sorry if I was a little evasive with my answer earlier, but I was still digesting your photos. Now that I’ve had more time to think about them, I actually have to admit that I find your work quite visually appealing.”

Mark smiled. “Well, an artist always loves to hear their work is appreciated.”

“I’m serious, though,” Artemis said, picking up one of Mark’s cards. “I couldn’t see it before, but your photos are so dynamic.” Artemis was still somewhat ambivalent about the fact that most of the photos were of attractive young women in skimpy cosplays that emphasized their breasts and their butts more than the character they were trying to depict, but she realized that maybe reverence for superheroines was compatible with photos of this caliber of artistic merit.

Mark grinned, “Well if you like my work, we’re always looking for more models.” He tried to hide his glance over her body, taking note of her impressive muscles, her toned flat stomach, and her statuesque physique.

Artemis’ didn’t need her super senses to see the greedy look in his eyes, and she was a little put off by it. Even if this man had a fine eye for photography, if he couldn’t control himself while proposing a new business endeavor, then he certainly didn’t have the level of professionalism that Artemis looked for.

“Thank you for the offer,” Artemis politely said. “But I don’t think I’ll have any need of your services.”

Mark frowned. “That’s such a shame, you put so much effort into your cosplay—surely you want someone who can capture it in all its detail and glory?”

Artemis was more firm this time. “No, thank you. If I have need of a photographer, I have my own resources that I can make use of.” She was a billionaire, even if she wanted a photographer, why would she settle for anything less than the best money could buy?

“Well, no hard feelings,” he said. “Do you mind if I at least take one more picture? Your Omega Girl cosplay is incredible—you look just like her.”

Artemis tried to hide her smile. “Alright, you can have one more picture.”

She assumed a posture she often used when posing for newspapers. Hands on her hips, standing tall and powerful. Chest puffed out—it was still a modest pose, still a pose that emphasized her power and dignity, and she didn’t care that men might find it a bit alluring. Men should learn to control themselves—she shouldn’t have to change what she did because of men. That was basic equality.

Flash

There was that unreasonably bright flash again. And that strange sensation on her scalp.

“Well, you enjoy the rest of the con,” Mark said. “And if you ever do change your mind, feel free to contact me through the website on my card. I think you’ll find we pay very competitive rates for our models.”

Artemis nodded, trying to clear her head of the fuzziness that had just come over her. She gave a weak smile and turned to walk away.

The last words that Mark said echoed in her mind. Competitive pay for his models. Competitive pay? She was always looking for side gigs to make money to support her superheroics.

She frowned at her suit. It was just ordinary spandex—most of the A-list heroes out there were running around in custom tailored suits made of orichalcum and carbon-nanotube threads, but in spite of her immense power and widespread popularity, she was still rocking a flimsy spandex suit. Maybe if she saved enough money she could afford such a state-of-the-art suite for herself—maybe a used one from a retiring heroine who was as top-heavy as she was.

The moment after these thoughts crossed her mind, they felt alien and wrong. Wasn’t she rich? She could totally afford an orichalcum suit with carbon-nanotube threads! It even seemed she had vague memories of already owning such a suit. In fact, the spandex on her skin felt different from how she remembered her suit feeling—as if she wasn’t used to the feeling of spandex on her skin.

And it might have just been the inexplicable change in material, but she felt like her breasts might not be as supported as she recalled them being. Her suit had been like a sports bra on steroids, but now it seemed like she had as much support as an ordinary bra. And were her breasts bigger? Surely, she hadn’t been this top-heavy before.

However, she accidentally bumped into someone, and lost her train of thought. She tried to remember what she had just been thinking, but all she came back to was Mark’s words about competitive pay for his models. That decided it, she needed to go back and talk to him about that!

She turned around and was soon back at Mark’s booth.

“Hey, I hope this doesn’t come off as weird, but I’ve already thought it over, and I’ve changed my mind. I think I would be interested in modelling for you.”

Mark grinned, “Alright, I always carry contracts with me. You can sign right here if everything in the contract sounds good to you.”

He pulled out a stapled packet and slid it and a pen to Artemis. She didn’t really speak “legalese”, but she did try to skim through the packet just to see if anything caught her eyes.

One paragraph on the second page stuck out to her.

“Um,” she said. “What’s this clause about you deciding what I wear for shoots?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Mark said, “I always take input from my models, so if you only ever want to cosplay Omega Girl or whatever, that’s fine. I’ll just have an Omega Girl costume made for you that shows off your natural assets more—you have a beautiful body, and people should be able to see it!”

Artemis put down the pen, and wore an apologetic expression. She had seen the money she would be making on the first page, and this was an amazing opportunity. But if she was going to have to wear a sexy parody of her Omega Girl costume...

“Look, I love your work and everything,” Artemis said. “But I really take my role as Omega Girl very seriously. I don’t want to cheapen her by making her pose for sexy photo shoots. It doesn’t seem right.”

“Wow,” Mark said. “With all the dedication you have to Omega Girl you’d think you were here or something.”

Artemis tried not to look surprised at his guess.

She quickly, perhaps too quickly, insisted, “No, nothing like that! I just have really strong principles. Principles that I would never think of violating, and I don’t want to cheapen any of the amazing work super heroes do by sexualizing them, you know?”

The man nodded, though she could tell he was getting a little annoyed.

“Well, that’s understandable,” he said. “Do you mind if I at least get your picture one last time?”

Artemis paused for a second, but then nodded. She assumed her most common heroic pose—hands on hips, standing tall, chest out. She was on record in several interviews as not thinking there was anything inherently sexual about poses that emphasized her amazing assets. However, she did secretly enjoy seeing comment threads where people commented positively about her appearance. She was only human after all. Well, super-human.

Flash

Artemis’ vision danced with light. The tingling “scalp massage” returned, but this time it felt like it stayed much longer.

As Artemis slowly came to her senses, she looked at the images behind Mark.

What was she thinking turning this gig down?

All these sexy women. It was so empowering! It was inspiring.

And she could be one of them.

“On second thought,” she said. “I’ll do it.”

“I’m happy you changed your mind!”

She signed the papers, and handed them back to Mark. He looked them over, and once he was satisfied, he looked up.

“Welcome to the Cosplay Camera family!”

Artemis smiled, “I’m happy to be on board.”

“Although, there is just one thing,” Mark said in a tone that caused Artemis’ smile to waver. “Right now you’re built like a bodybuilder, which is great, but most of our clientele tend to prefer women with yoga bodies—you know fit, flat tummy, maybe a little muscle but still feminine, you know? I have a deal with a gym in town, they can hook you up with a three month routine that will have you shaped up in no time.”

Artemis frowned, “There wasn’t anything about that in the contract was there?”

Mark gave an easy grin, “No, no, no. Nothing like that. It’s more of a company culture thing, I’m sure you understand!”

Artemis thought about his words. “Uh, look—I’m totally onboard with women looking sexing and being in control of their sexuality and everything, but I need these muscles for, uh, work.”

“What work do you do?” he asked, curiously.

“I’m a, uh, fitness, um, instructor,” she lied unconvincingly.

“Well, whatever it is you do, you have to ask what’s more important—modeling or your work?”

There was no question for Artemis. She was a hero before everything else. As long as there were people in the world who needed help, she would be there to save them.

“I’m sorry, I think my work is more important. If you take pictures of me, you’ve got to do it with muscly me.” she said somberly.

Mark looked pensive for a second. “We might be able to make that work... Here, why don’t we do this, let’s take a picture to see if we can make things work even with those huge muscles.”

He lifted the camera.

Artemis gave a wry smile, “Of course.”

She rotated a little so the camera would be able to get both the curves of her breasts and butt, and then assumed a sexy posed that emphasized both of her assets. Women were sexy—she wasn’t going to apologize for being an empowered modern woman.

Flash

The tingling wasn’t just in her brain, it was over her whole body. It seemed to dance over her skin, and press into every crevice of her brain. Her thinking began to feel slower, as if her thoughts were molasses. The tingling soon subsided, but the slowness remained.

“Wow, your pictures are, like, amazing!” Artemis said. “Could I be a model for you?”

“Uh, you’ve already signed the contract and everything.”

“Oh, yeah,” Artemis said airily. “I had totally, like, forgotten!”

Mark looked Artemis over, admiring his handiwork. Her old body-builder muscles were completely gone, replaced with a not-so-convincing muscle suit. He could tell that underneath the suit she was dainty and feminine. Exactly what his clientele liked.

Exactly what he liked.

“I’m happy to have you as a model,” he said, licking his lips. “Although, what I really want is to see what’s going on under that outfit.”

Artemis opened her mouth in shock, “I may, like, be a sexy, powerful lady. But I’m not a slut!”

“Of course not,” the man said raising his hands defensively. “Here, why don’t I make it up to you for my offensive comment just now? How about another picture to smooth things over?”

Artemis side-eyed him, but nodded.

She gave her sexiest pose and most alluring expression for the camera.

Flash

Artemis giggled.

“Wow, all of those women are so, like, sexy. Just like me! Yay!” she jumped up and down excitedly, and Mark admired the bouncing that followed.

“They are very sexy,” the man agreed. “And you’re one of them, you know. You just have to follow me and take off your clothes for me.”

Artemis gave a big, vacant smile. There was clearly nothing going through her head.

“Of course I’ll, like, do that! I want to be just like those pretty women,” she said.

“You will be just like them,” he said approvingly. “You just have to do everything I say.”

Mark led her to the green room, where important guests waited between panels. The security guard winked as he let them through, and the man locked the door behind him once he was sure they were alone.

“Alright, show me what you’ve got,” he said.

Artemis wasted no time taking the spandex suit off. She started with the shoulders and slowly revealed her impressive breasts. She could tell that the guy was getting excited watching her, so she decided to make a little bit of a show out of it. She danced and gyrated as the rest of her outfit came off. Soon, she was standing there completely naked, still dancing for him.

She giggled, “It looks like you’re happy to see me. Why don’t I show you what my body can do?”

The man smiled. “Sounds good to me.”

She pounced on him, and had soon freed his dick from his pants. She mounted him and was eagerly riding him up and down, when he surprised her by maneuvering to get on top. She was so used to being on top, to being the powerful and in charge one during sex, but somehow having this man on top of her, straddling her felt right. Having him in control, deciding everything—it was right for sex and for life in general.

The two of them fucked for an amazing hour, and when they had finished up and Mark was pulling his pants back on, he noticed the time. Now that an hour had passed, the changes would become permanent, and the entire world would remember all of the changes he had made as having always been the case. He noticed the slight tingle play across his scalp, updating his memories to this new reality.

The two of them got dressed and left the green room, and a puzzle popped into Mark’s head that hadn’t occurred to him before.

“Hey, I’ve got a question. Who were you supposed to be dressed up as? Was that an original character or something?”

“I’m Omega Girl, silly,” she said rolling her eyes.

“Hm...,” he said thoughtfully. “Never heard of her.”