The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Pink Sakura

(FF MC BD)

Rebecca and Daze investigate an Asian themed lesbian nightclub in hopes to find the source of an outbreak of mind controlling narcotics.

Author’s Note: This is part of the Infinity City comic book unviverse that is in The Vineyard section of The Garden of MC.

Part 1

“A block away should do it,” Daze said as she turned off the Special Investigations Unit van. “Not much for stealth, though. Would much rather just bust down the door and see what’s going on.”

“So much that you didn’t even dress the part.” Rebecca McCandliss straightened her Chinese dress. It was one of her favorite dresses that Arianne, her girlfriend – at least unofficially – gave her. The light blue color offset her red hair, and the slits down the dress showed off her perfect legs.

She opened a door and stuck her leg out.

“So, what kind of dress is that anyways?”

Rebecca stared back at Daze. “It’s a cheongsam. Next time ask that question before we come to an Asian themed fetish club.”

Daze rolled her eyes. “I didn’t choose this assignment anymore than you did. Infiltration really is not my thing.”

A muscle twitched in Rebecca’s cheek. “You do the assignment you’re given, Officer Lesta, and you do it right. I expect you to stay on the radio and be ready to come in and support if need be. Can you manage that?”

Daze nodded, her jaw tightening.

“Good,” said Rebecca, her expression softening an iota. “Look I know this is outside your comfort zone, but in a situation like this we all have to step up our game.”

Rebecca ground her teeth as she looked over the pretty black girl’s outfit. The white and purple spandex showed off a fantastic figure that, in other contexts, Rebecca would have been happy to admire. Right now, however, she dearly wished her normal partner, Callaghan, hadn’t been assigned to police searches on the other side of the city. Being settled with a meathead who was at home smashing things up for the SWAT team during an intel gathering mission was probably one of the worst arrangements ever.

Her high heeled boot scraped on the pavement as she turned and walked away from the van and towards the club. Dr. Arcadia Orbweaver escaped from her maximum security asylum less than twenty-four hours ago and now word on the streets said somebody had set up a major smuggling operation to get her drugs into Infinity City on a massive scale.

She didn’t think the two things happening together could just be coincidence. According to an anonymous tip, “The Pink Sakura” might be involved and who ever had set the SIU duty roster that night deemed it worth checking out.

She pinched the bridge of her nose on the other side of the street out of sight of Daze. Who needed this bullshit? It didn’t matter— she had to focus on the mission ahead of her.

The club was as stereotypical as if it were out of a bad dream. Rebecca could feel the neon pink sign already burning the phrase “The Pink Sakura” into her retinas. The bouncer in the front, some tall butch chick in samurai armor, wasn’t letting anyone in normal clothes in. The line stretched past the building’s sidewalk and some girls were even lined up so far that they were blocking the door of another club.

Rebecca didn’t have time to wait in line. She approached the bouncer, exuding her own air of confidence. The bouncer looked at her, raised her hand to point to the back of the line, but did a double take. Rebecca grinned as the bouncer sized her up unabashedly.

“You’re good to go in,” the bouncer said as she opened the door for Rebecca.

“Merci,” Rebecca said with a wink. She passed through the door with a smile on her face as the bouncer laughed and the girls waiting anxiously in line cursed.

Light and sound assaulted her senses as she stepped into the first room. She could see a long cocktail bar running the length of one wall while an empty balcony hung over the other side of the room. Booths under the balcony contained gaggles of women laughing, arguing, drinking, smoking and making out with cheerful abandon. The middle of the room contained a waving mass of arms and legs as club goers moved to the beat. Rebecca noted to her satisfaction that many of the women also wore cheongsam’s of varying lengths. The club contained all sorts as well; black, white, Asian, blonde, brunette, raven and redhead. For a moment, Rebecca forgot about being on duty and contemplated the crowd as if she just received a delicious assortment of bonbons to choose from.

She moved left, ignoring the glances and headed through an arch into the next room.

It contained an all-Asian girl band playing and another dance floor with a pulsating crowd before them. This time the bar seemed themed for old-time Shanghai, with the bartenders dressed in lady-suits and bow ties from the thirties. Rebecca continued her circuit through a room that appeared to be out of some kind of science fiction movie and played tinny music she instantly detested and a chill-out room with mock paper walls and paintings of cherry blossom trees on the walls. The room had large beanbags and soft love seats all of which appeared to be in active use by various couples or threesomes. She completed her circuit and came back into the main dance room, which she now recognized as having a modern Asian theme.

She noted a black staff door in the far corner by the spiral stairs leading up to the empty balcony. A pair of extremely muscular, shaven-headed butch guards stood on either side of it, arms folded and constantly watchful. Rebecca felt her curiosity piqued as to what would necessitate such obviously non-decorative security for a staff door in a night club. Although, to be fair, the butch guard on the right with the black eyes she could definitely see making a little time with. She decided to check out the cocktails before proceeding further.

Rebecca made her way back to the bar just to be greeted by a free cocktail. “It’s on the house,” the petite bartender said. “You’ll love it. It’s the house special.”

“Thanks, I’m sure I will.” Rebecca took her drink and looked toward the corners. Most were occupied by some couples getting very physical. She did find a shaded part of the room and sat down. She took the chance to open up her make-up kit, ignoring the girls hovering around her in hopes of finding an excuse to approach.

While fully functional, there was a small pad meant to test for traces of Orbweaver’s drugs. She pulled the cocktail stick out of her glass, still checking to make sure no one had seen her. She dabbed it on the pad and watched it turn blue.

“No drugs,” Rebecca said to herself. It appeared that “The Pink Sakura” was just a fancy Asian themed lesbian club. False intelligence wasn’t that uncommon, but it was still disappointing to know that there were still no leads on Orbweaver.

She sipped at her drink but froze in place as she felt a chill rush up her spine.

Her psychic eye saw dark shapes and colors filtering through the air, a weird vortex of energy that wove between the dancing bodies. Here and there, it clung to the hips and breasts of a dancer, invariably one who looked utterly lost in her own world. Rebecca saw the swirling shadows slither between the butch guards and through the black staff door. No, she corrected herself. It emanated from behind the staff door.

She raised two fingers to the ornate Chinese ear clip on the back of her right ear and spoke softly.

“Harbinger, Daze do you copy.” She used her self-designated SIU call sign. She mentally rolled her eyes at having to use a superheroine name for Officer Jessica Lesta.

“Daze, I copy, Harbinger.”

“The club has a very . . . malevolent energy flow coming from in back. I’m going to see if I can’t persuade one of the guards to give me a little tour.”

She heard a pause.

“Daze, okay, Harbinger, I’ll be waiting, that’s your comfort zone.”

Rebecca’s mouth dropped for a second. Even if it happened to be true, Daze went on her mental list of superheroines-who-need-a-spanking. She put it out of her mind and contemplated her best approach to the butch guard with the black eyes. She decided on the most direct one and started to make her way towards the door when, just at that moment, it opened.

A short, at least compared to Rebecca, Asian woman who appeared to be in her early forties stepped out of the doorway. The malevolent energy was certainly coming from her, though Rebecca could hardly believe it. The woman was incredibly petite and looked like a strong push would shatter her.

The garb she wore fit in well with the club, but she also seemed more decorated than anyone else. She wore a short brown Japanese shirt that Rebecca knew was a happi and a long brown hakama.

The woman didn’t seem to notice Rebecca as she walked up spiral stairs to an empty balcony overlooking the dance floor. Rebecca noticed an emblem on the back of her happi that looked like two Japanese symbols with a jagged scar between them. A retinue of girls in various states of silky undress followed her up the stairs.

Rebecca couldn’t leave the feeling alone. Clearly, whoever the woman might be, she wielded both power and malice. And she also clearly held the power to take Rebecca anywhere she wanted to go in The Pink Sakura.

Rebecca glanced at the butch guard she’d been approaching and mentally put a line through her. Time to attract the attention of bigger game.

She turned on her heel and started to undulate her way into the middle of the dancing scrum. She shifted her shapely ass to the beat, and placing her hands on her hips, she dipped her head and half-smiled through her lashes at the girls moving around her. She fastened on a blonde with short spikey hair and a short silvery dress with embroidered lotus flowers decorating her small chest. Rebecca slipped her hands down her thighs and then brought them back up again as she moved in front of the blonde, who looked like she thought her lottery numbers just came up.

Rebecca leaned in close to the blonde’s ear.

—Let me see what you want to be.

The blonde’s eyes glazed as Rebecca saw the picture forming in the front of the girl’s mind. She placed her hands on the blonde’s hips and pushed her left thigh between the girl’s legs.

—See yourself as you desire. It is who you truly are.

The blonde moaned and Rebecca delighted in her reaction. Her eyes glazed over, and a giggle fluttered from her lips. She reached up and patted her breasts, giggling as she bounced her breasts. “Like, oh my god, they’re so huge!”

Rebecca grinned. The girl hadn’t changed at all; she just perceived herself differently. She slapped the blonde’s ass and started dancing with her. The blonde loved the attention and just giggled as she tried to keep up. The blonde stumbled a few times, but she just giggled and kept on dancing. Her head was in the clouds, probably thinking only airy thoughts. Rebecca licked her lips. She could already tell tonight was going to be a fun one.

She glanced toward the balcony, wondering if she had the malicious woman’s attention. The woman just stared off over the dance floor, seeming completely uninterested. It looked like Rebecca was going to have to take it up another step.

Rebecca’s red hair braid swept over left shoulder as she turned away from the blonde, looking for a fresh dance partner. The giggling blonde placed her hands on Rebecca’s hips and pressed up against her back, the two of them jerking in time to the beat. Rebecca spotted what she wanted. A petite Asian girl with a quite spectacular display of cleavage pressed up inside her red silk corset stared at Rebecca from the side of the dance floor like a little sparrow who very much wanted the cat to eat it. Rebecca crooked her finger and the girl’s mouth dropped, the little sparrow looked for a moment like she might run, but then she tottered forward awkwardly moving to the music. Rebecca leaned in.

—Show me how you desire to be.

Rebecca tossed her head back and laughed, grinding back into the blonde who was lost in her own bimbo fantasy world.

—Dance with me Bunny Girl.

The Asian girl twitched her nose at Rebecca. She could feel cute bunny ears splitting her hair, and an adorable little tail poking its way out of her dress. She hopped up and down a few times, bouncing her breasts for Rebecca. She couldn’t stop shaking her rump as the beat vibrated up and down her legs.

Rebecca just grinned. She knew very well what the girl was going through. She felt the malicious woman’s eyes turn toward her, but they didn’t stay very long. It was an obviously hard to impress audience, but she was forming her own little harem on the dance floor. She knew what she could do next.

A couple were dancing rather vulgarly together, a sultry brunette and her athletic girlfriend. Rebecca smirked. She abandoned her two pets as she inserted herself between the two of them.

Rebecca ignored the gasp of outrage from behind her as the athlete got cut off. One corner of her mouth curled up, and she raised an eyebrow at the sultry brunette. The girl’s mouth hung open, but her eyes flicked to Rebecca’s spectacular chest and then met her gaze almost insolently. Come and get me. It was just what Rebecca wanted to see. She pressed her lips down to the brunette’s ear.

—Dance with me, and be what you want to be.

The sultry brunette’s pout suddenly quivered, and her eyes went wide. Rebecca could see the brunette’s perceptions of herself changing. The brunette’s arms, legs, and torso became silvery liquid metal, her hair silvery coils flowing down over her shoulders as bright digital displays and computer ports winked in the middle of her stomach below her silver breasts. Rebecca took the gynoid girl by her hips and spun her so that she danced between the bimbo blonde and bunny girl, the three of them moving and shifting their bodies in time with Rebecca as she moved into the middle of them

“Who the fuck do you think you are?”

The athlete who had been dancing with the brunette squeezed Rebecca’s arm between her fingers.

—What do you want?

The athlete’s eyes glazed.

—Oh, I see. Then socks it is.

The athlete collapsed and fell to Rebecca’s feet. She wrapped her arms around Rebecca’s legs and nuzzled. She could feel soft silk against her cheek. Light blue and so tight that it showed every curve of Rebecca’s legs. She whimpered as she kissed.

“Soft,” she murmured as she attached herself to Rebecca, but still crawled enough to let Rebecca keep moving.

Rebecca smiled. She loved how easily they lost themselves. Anyone looking would just think the athletic girl had a particular thing for tights. They’d never guess she was worshiping socks, even as Rebecca playfully adjusted the non-existent hem.

The bimbo and bunny danced around Rebecca while the brunette shimmied behind her and the athlete worshiped her thighs.. She could tell they had the malevolent woman’s attention now. She just had to do her coup de grace.

A crowd formed around Rebecca and her harem. All the girls were clearly impressed by the little performance going on. Some started to cheer and whisper as Rebecca’s girls started to feel themselves up. They loved the attention even more than Rebecca. They showed their bodies off as they danced around Rebecca, inspiring jealousy in some of the girls who wished they’d been picked.

Rebecca reached back and pulled the brunette gynoid against her, sliding her hands down the girl’s thighs and then bringing her hands up over her head, elbows raised and her wrists crossing just above her red hair braid as she tossed it to the beat. The athlete on her knees before her ran her hands up and down Rebecca’s long legs, her lips dipping to brush Rebecca’s thighs as they swayed before her. Rebecca turned her disturbingly green eyes sideways to look at the bimbo blonde. The blonde giggled in delight and started to run her fingers up and down Rebecca’s left flank and across the gynoid brunette’s rump. Rebecca glanced right and nodded at bunny girl who flipped around and pushed her hips back to shake her tail against Rebecca’s right flank. She could feel the gynoid’s hands stroking up her flat stomach, moving to cup Rebecca’s big breasts through her silken dress.

The crowd around them screamed and cheered, wolf whistles and cat calls echoing through their ears. Rebecca’s lips curled back and she tossed her head back in ecstasy as she felt hands upon her breasts.

—Cum.

Her girls shook, their cries lost in the midst of the furious pounding dance music and the noise of the crowd. Rebecca dropped her head back down and kept moving, her little harem still undulating with her. For a moment, she forgot her mission and simply scanned the circle of wide-eyed lust-filled faces watching them. She didn’t need to be a psychic to understand the thoughts running behind them. Pick me. Pick me. Rebecca wanted to pick all of them.

The music shut off suddenly, and the members of the crowd looked around. Most had no idea what was going on until a tall artic blonde woman in an outfit Rebecca swore would be banned from a beach for being too revealing stalked between them. A tight latex top that looked more like a bra with short sleeves, and a skirt that might as well have not been there barely covered the woman. Fishnets stretched from her feet to the middle of her thighs, being held up by simple string that disappeared under the woman’s skirt. Her heels clacked on the floor as she approached the center of the crowd.

“Excuse me, but the owner of the establishment would like to have a word with you,” she said with a bow.

“Nah,” said Rebecca. “That’s okay, I think I have my dates for the evening.”

A muscle high on the arctic blonde’s face twitched. “The owner,” she raised her eyes towards the balcony, “would like to have a word with you.” Her blue eyes popped at Rebecca.

Rebecca glanced up at the balcony then back at the blonde, “Sorry, she’s not my type, thanks.” She started to turn away.

Color drained from the woman’s face and Rebecca saw a hint of real fear, “Scar-sensei wants to speak to you.” She leaned towards Rebecca and whispered for her ears only, “Please, please come with me.”

A chill ran down Rebecca’s spine as she contemplated the blonde’s terror. “Okay, give me a second.” She glanced around at her little harem. “Sorry girls, I guess the management wants to talk about our little show.”

—You all go home with Socks here. Socks, all these girls get to cum twice before you do. And the rest of you—wear some socks for Socks.

Loose ends tidied up to her satisfaction, Rebecca followed the arctic blonde towards the spiral stairs to the balcony.

As Rebecca stood right in front of the malicious woman, Scar, she was almost soothed. Scar hardly seemed so threatening up close. She was more than a foot shorter than Rebecca without heels, and she looked weak and frail.

“I see you’re making a show to get my attention,” Scar said as she pointed to the girls who gathered around the athletic girl and made their way to the exit. “But even so, you wanted to play games with little Jezebel.”

Jezebel stiffed up. Rebecca could hear her thoughts going wild. If she was afraid before, she was absolutely terrified now.

“You are quite attractive, though. I can understand why those girls were so eager to gather around you.” Rebecca could feel Scar’s eyes undressing her, but she didn’t really mind. She could already imagine Scar screaming and begging for Rebecca to stop teasing her. This mission was going to be easy if this was all she had to deal with.

“And as you can see, you’ve cost me my dates for the evening,” Rebecca glanced down at a pretty Asian girl wearing a very short red silk dress sitting opposite Scar, “Mind if I take your seat?” The girl looked at Scar, who nodded. She rose allowing Rebecca to sit down. Rebecca took a moment to cross her legs, the slit of her dress falling away to show her luscious thighs encased in light blue silk. She smoothed the silk with her hand, well-aware that Scar’s eyes followed her legs to the hem of her dress where a hint of her garter showed.

“Jezebel,” Rebecca indicated the hovering blonde with a wave of her hand, “tell’s me your name is Scar. I’m Kira Blake, may I ask is there some sort of rule about picking up more than one girl on your dance floor? Or is there some other reason you invited me up here?”

This close, Rebecca could see that Scar’s skin looked like it had been drained of color for far too long. Her lips were painted bronze, and only her lips and her eyes could hold any attention. Rebecca kept finding herself looking at one or the other, almost ignoring the cute nose and the gray streaks in Scar’s hair.

She smiled at Rebecca and then stared at Jezebel. “Apparently, Jezebel told you more than instructed.” Rebecca instantly regretted mentioning the girl. “Jezebel return to the dojo, you will be disciplined later. . . .”

Jezebel flinched before taking a step back and bowing to Scar. “Yes Scar-sensei.”

“My name is Scar, but you will call me Scar-sensei, Ms. . . . Blake, perhaps you would like to inspect my dojo? I can guarantee that it will be an experience far beyond what those girls might have offered you.”

The hair on the back of Rebecca’s neck stood up. Too easy, far too easy. Unless Scar really was desperately hot for her. Alright, not an impossible thought she supposed. Warily, she nodded her head, “By all means, I’d be delighted to see what you’ve got, Scar.”

Scar’s smile broadened. “Scar-sensei, but never worry. You will get used to that soon enough, come, girls.” She rose and held out her hand for Rebecca to take. “Ms. Blake?”

Rebecca took Scar’s frail hand and allowed herself to be lead down the stairs and through the black staff door.

A harem of the likes Rebecca had never seen awaited them. There was every variation of girl knelt on the floor or laid stretched out among pillows scattered around the otherwise hardwood floor in fetish outfits.. Scar walked in front, getting stares of adoration and longing wherever she went.

“These women are mine, Ms. Blake,” she said. “Each one has submitted their body for my use. Each one has begged at my feet. Each one had a performance like yours, though not as grand. They wanted my attention, and they received it.” Scar walked toward the back of the dojo. “Is this what you came to see? Or did you actually want to join?”

“I came to meet some cute dykes who like yuri hentai, I didn’t expect to find . . . this.”

Rebecca’s head swam with display of melting skin and soft silk around her. As she glanced around the wide room, a sudden vision came to her psychic eye.

Scar stood before serried ranks of women standing at attention in rows across the hardwood floor. Scar wore her deep brown happi and hakama, but each of the women before her wore only a brief brown happi which ended just at the top of her thighs. A short, delicious stretch of bare skin showed on each woman’s thighs between the end of the happi and the beginning of thigh-high brown tabis – socks which stretched down to cover the rest of their toned legs. Each woman had a gold obi – a ceremonial sash – tied around their waist and a gold symbol across her left breast. The exact same symbol showing two Japanese characters separated by a jagged scar worn on the back of Scar’s happi. The women wore brown face veils and hachimaki – Japanese headbands. And Scar lead them to chant in time: “Hail the Kage! Hail the Kage!”

The vision disappeared and Rebecca blinked. Scar watched her from the door way to an adjoining room, her eyebrows raised at Rebecca, a slight smile playing across her lips.

“Please,” said Scar, “join me in my office so we can discuss your induction into my dojo.” Rebecca followed her into the small room.

A maid waited in Scar’s office, kneeling next to a low table, holding a tray of two drinks. Scar crossed to the other side of the table and knelt down on a pillow. The maid quickly offered her a drink, then turned to Rebecca, offering her the other one. Rebecca looked into it, it was sake – probably drugged.

The maid left the room.

Rebecca started to sit down, but fumbled on her way to her knees. The drink tipped, and she tried her hardest to keep it from spilling onto her clothes, but as she dropped, the cup tipped over.

“Dammit!” Rebecca said. “Do you mind if I go take care of this real quick?”

Scar sighed. “Yes, go ahead, Ms. Blake. There is a washroom on the other side of the dojo.”

Rebecca nodded and left the room. She crossed the dojo while trying her hardest not to be distracted by the girls on display around her. She made it to the washroom and was thankful that an orgy hadn’t just occurred. She grabbed her compact and took the pad out. She rubbed it against the stain and saw it turn red. It was Orbweaver’s.

She pressed her earring and spoke quietly, “Daze.”

She waited. There was no response.

“Daze?”

Still no response.

Rebecca narrowed her eyes. Shit. Daze must’ve fucked up.

Rebecca’s ear piece sprung to life. “Daze, Harbinger, sorry. Problems. I think something is going on.”

“Right. This is the spider’s nest. I’ll be out as soon as I can.”

“Stay safe,” Daze said.

Rebecca took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She made her way back through the ocean of silky nothings to Scar’s office. Scar smiled at her and indicated that she should kneel down by the low table again. Her sake cup had been re-filled.

“You know,” said Rebecca, “this is a lot to take in, is it possible I could think about it and get back to you later this week? I mean, I already have a gym membership, do you have a card or something with your rates?”

Scar pursed her lips, “There is no monetary charge for membership of my dojo, Ms. McCandliss, the payment is with your soul.”

For a second, Rebecca didn’t take it in. Then she ran.

The malevolent feeling spread in front of her into the dojo. She made a break for it through all the harem girls, but before she made it halfway across the dojo, the walls seemed to open. Ninjas like she had seen in her vision stood between her and the door.

She heard a moan to her right and stared as a girl’s kimono disappeared around her lower back. There was a tattoo, but Rebecca didn’t have time to examine it before it was covered by a brown mini-happi. The girl’s clothes faded completely away, giving Rebecca a small window to see her nude before her ninja costume covered her up. Before long, all the girls in the room had changed.

Every single one stared at her.

“Now Ms. McCandliss, do you really think you’re going to get away?” Scar said as she entered the dojo.

Rebecca reached for the gun she kept on her inner thigh. She spun around and aimed it at Scar. “I will unless you want to get shot.”

Scar shrugged. “Get her, girls.”

As the first ninja moved, Rebecca braced herself and fired the gun. Everything moved so fast, she swore she blinked and missed what happened. Scar was standing with her hand in front of her face. The first ninjas had already covered most of the distance to Rebecca.

“Foolish girl,” Scar said as she revealed the bullet in her palm.

Rebecca didn’t have a chance to react as the first girl grabbed her hand with the gun and quickly disarmed her. Another grabbed her other arm, and both of them together tried to trip her. Rebecca stood firm and shook them off her.

They were fast, but they weren’t stronger than any other women. She knew she wasn’t going to be able to fight them all. She dug deep down into herself. Pale flames licked along the surface of her skin as the lurking darkness in her soul poured out – the well spring of her psychic powers. There was just one way to end thi—”Ow!”

Rebecca’s hand reached to her neck and she pulled a thin dart out of it. She stared open mouthed at Scar as the frail woman lowered a short bamboo tube from her lips. The world spun and then Rebecca felt the hit. Orbweaver’s drugs rushed through her system. Her eyes rolled up, and her back arched as her legs gave way. The pale flames on her skin died as the darkness rolled back again as the mind-numbing pleasure of the drugs flushed through her body. She collapsed on the floor in a half-life between coma and sleep, eyes sightless. She didn’t feel the hands gently lifting her up and bearing her away. She floated in her own cloud, suspended in time, endlessly chasing a peak that beckoned to her, but always remained just out of reach.