The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Five girls in peculiar dress stood immobile on a makeshift stage. From their vacant expressions and glassy stares, the curious quintet appeared to be in some manner of hypnotic trance.

“In truth, it was much, much worse.” Ash thought while nimbly maneuvering herself into position, settling just outside the closed entrance to the ill-lit room with the stage. The ace detective kept one eye glued to the livestream; despite its repulsive content she could not pass up a chance to gather some final intel. To be prepared was key in her line of work, vital for a successful mission.

Each one of the frozen girls was dolled up in some sort of fetish outfit, to maximize their pandering to the male gaze and thus attract more bidders. With a hefty scoop of dejection, Ash found that she had encountered each of the uniforms in similar situations at least once before. Catholic school girl, bunny suit, wrapped in gift ribbons, latex catsuit and finally, the most petite of the five wore one of those navy blue Japanese school swimsuits. For whatever reason that sort of swimsuit was a surprisingly common occurrence, yet the sight of it never ceased to baffle her.

“Why do these sickos find such a cheap, plastic-looking thing attractive? Wouldn’t a bikini or just a ‘normal’, skimpier swimsuit be better? Why bother with modesty? You pigs are here to leer at the naked skin of unwilling girls, aren’t you!?” Ash smothered a desire to scream as she waited, counting seconds, eager to receive the signal to go ahead. She glanced at the viewer count of the livestream and felt her heart sink; despite this stream being highly illegal—and highly hard to even find!—it still had so many viewers! Potential buyers! The ace detective clenched her jaw, and for a second almost lost her cool, while the number of viewers raced up and up and up.

“There’s absolutely still good men out there, Ash! Tons of ’em! Great men even! More than enough for both of us, I promise! The bottom feeders our Bureau has to deal with are the exception, the odd twisted freaks. Keep that in mind or you’ll go mad working this shit, Ashley Moorey.” Those old words, slurred out by her senior after she had imbibed a buffet of drinks, popped up in her head often nowadays. Almost like a sort of mantra. Her line of work, and the filth she had to sift through, sure made such naivety hard to stomach. Especially now, after what had happened to-

A harsh command in Japanese, audible to her both from the other side of the closed door and in her earpiece that played audio from the stream cut off further musings over the highly theoretical existence of “good men”. One of the scumbags had finally ordered these kidnapped girls to start their grotesque show.

The five girls stirred awake, going from immobile objects to spirited and giddy little things. “Need your merchandise to act bubbly and cute, excited to be sold off as cattle, to drive up their price.” Ash surmised, and her spirit was immediately flung back to fighting an ever-losing battle to grasp on to some belief in mankind. Heavy emphasis on “man” in that word.

One of the girls, the one who had choice parts of her body wrapped in red ribbons, pranced up to the camera, with a teasing smile on her lips. With the girl in focus, still fresh scars from the beauty surgery she had been put under were immediately apparent. The scars would heal completely in time, but Ash had learned that many customers considered it a turn-on for them to still be visible during the auction. The marks served as a reminder that the girl’s body, as well as her mind, had been remodeled to better serve her new purpose. Her new role as a sexual plaything.

The ribbon-girl remained quiet, her teasing smile unwavering as she lightly skipped up and down center stage, sending huge, obviously fake, breasts that were much too large for her otherwise slender frame bounding and bouncing. The flimsy red ribbons did little to keep her engorged assets in place, the bouncy mountains of flesh at constant risk of tearing free from their restraints, and give the viewers a sample of what could be theirs, if they were wealthy enough.

Bearing witness to the both farcical and demeaning performance the young, very bouncy woman was helpless but to play out, Ash’s blood boiled! She wanted nothing more than to burst in there, guns blazing, and shoot those psychopaths doing things like this to innocent women dead (and ideally to murder the viewers as well, but her gun could not yet kill through video)! Ash was a professional though, and remained patient, icy-cool while waiting for her signal.

The skipping and bouncing came to an abrupt halt and the girl in ribbons winked for the camera. By some manner of miracle, the red ribbons had managed to stay somewhat in place, still barely covering the girl’s nipples.

“Hiiii everybody~! So glad to see how many visitors we have today. We even have some overseas viewers! Yaaay!! Hope you can understand me.” The girl in ribbon blew the camera a kiss, everything about her demeanor emphasizing her youth. Childlike innocence in contrast to absurd, blown-up breasts and a pornstar body. “My name’s Aki and I tried soooo hard to become an idol. But Aki-chan was just tooooo useless and lazy, boo hoo hoo..! But! Now I’ve found something else I wanna do...” The girl twirled around in a circle and then looked at the camera again, her smile turning into a look of determination. “Aki-chan wanna be yours, Master! Please let Aki become yours! Let her be your sweet girlfriend, your sultry sidepiece or... perhaps a perverted daughter a little too much obsessed with my daddy.” The girl’s intense stare hyper-focused at the camera as she said that last part, giggling slightly before continuing. “...or, just about anything you want me to be! Aki’s going to work super-duper hard for you, Master~!” She winked at the camera once more, sticking out her tongue as she did so and teasingly pulled at the red ribbon, almost making it come loose.

Ash remained absolutely still, lurking outside, listening for a goddamn signal that never came!

“Please pay a lot for Aki-chan, won’t you, mister Master? We’ll start the bidding at 20 million yen. Don’t miss out on your chance to make this failed, stupid idol girl your own personal cumdump. Yaaay!!” The idol jumped with joy, sending her gift-wrapped tits bouncing madly once again. “We accept all major credit cards~!”

“All’s in place, Moorey. Go!” The crackling command in her earpiece at last!

Without missing a beat, Ash tackled the door open. The two men inside, one running the camera, the other at a computer, scrambled to react to the shock of a foreign woman suddenly busting in on their illegal operation with a weapon drawn.

With a steady hand, she pointed her gun at the two yakuza. “Freeze! If you move so much as an inch or try to pull any more mind control shit, you’re dead, assholes. We’re shutting down this freakshow of yours.” This shit was better than sex—bringing human-trafficking scum like this to sweet, sweet justice!

The two men glared at her, frozen in shock, while the five girls for sale giggled and cheered. They celebrated each new bid that came for their “friend” Aki. The mindbroken girls performed their preprogrammed routine, their shattered minds oblivious to what was going on, unable to take in what happened behind the camera.

Despite what the foreigner had just told them, one of the men spoke, in heavily accented English:

“Drop the gun.” The ‘Buzzer’ in his hand amplified his voice, causing it to reverberate within Ash; empowering the simple order until it was absolutely irresistible. At least it would have been if not for the earpiece she wore. A light clicking in her ear, emittance of certain wavelengths and sounds in response to the Buzzer’s, canceled his mind control device’s effect out.

The woman smirked and gripped her gun tighter in response. Better than goddamn sex indeed. She turned it to the man, aiming squarely for his chest. The criminal’s eyes bulged in panic!

“Drop the gun, bitch! Drop the fucking gun!!” Every syllable out of his ugly mouth was enhanced to a command from God by the little metallic toy he gripped on to with whitened knuckles. She did not care. “Fucking cunt foreigner! I said drop the—”

Her finger squeezed the trigger, firing a round directly into the center of the man, cutting off another futile shout of orders and profanities. The bullet hit him perfectly; he crumpled to the floor, blood spraying everywhere, including showering over the petite girl wearing the navy blue swimsuit. The man fell backwards, knocking the camera sideways as the girls kept going through the motions of cutesy, teasing prostitutes like they had been instructed, despite one of them now being covered in gore. “The power of these ‘Buzzers’ was truly disgusting.” Ash sneered as she raised her gun to point the muzzle at the last man standing.

“No, please! I have family, I—” He croaked in barely legible English.

“Then start talking, creep. My agency’s real interested in how some shit-for-brains neanderthals like you managed to get your hands on second generation Buzzers.” While she was talking, Ash walked up to the dying man and glanced at the now bloodstained Buzzer still in his grip. “Yep, second gen.” She could feel that garbage in her bones—the strength of his words. These guys were even better equipped than she had expected. Gave some credence to her theory that all this recent mind control shit originated from somewhere in Japan. Holding the still living freak at gunpoint, she signaled for the rest of her team. Operation complete.

Ash had excused herself as quickly as she could. Others were better when it came to cleaning up afterwards, at removing evidence of what had transpired here. Better at helping reorient the poor girls, get them integrated back to normal society. If such a thing was even possible.

The first few months after the Buzzers had begun to pop up was a terrifying mayhem for her agency. In that chaos, they had lost some of their best agents. Ash had been lucky enough to not encounter an outfit with mind control devices until the countermeasures, the barrier of protective sounds now stored in her earpiece, had been developed. Many of her friends and colleagues had not been so lucky, however.

As often as she could she visited her senior, the one who had tried to help her keep a sunny disposition, at the sanatorium. On good days, the woman was almost catatonic, repeating nonsense to herself while drugged out of her mind. On bad days, or whenever someone tried to clothe her, the previously clandestine operator who had been Ash’s role model, howled in pain. Pain some sick individual had forced her mind and body to simulate whenever the woman found herself unable to “beg for forgiveness, naked, on her knees”.

Her senior was one of the few from the Bureau who had been exposed to the full brunt of influence of a Buzzer and was still alive and accounted for. She was therefore still a valuable resource in the fight against the emerging and very real threat of irresistible mind control like out of a science fiction horror story. Yet sometimes Ash wondered if her survival was worth it. Such an outstanding, kind and absolute badass of a woman, reduced to a sick mockery of herself.

Ash banged a balled fist to the mirror in the elevator she rode. The pain of the shards of glass cutting into her hand, and the trickle of blood that followed, snapped the ace detective out of delving too deep in the bottomless pit of painful memories and regrets. She would soon have enough trouble, just dealing with herself...

During the car ride back to her hotel, she tried to focus on the glimpses of ordinary Tokyo nightlife in full swing out on the streets. So many happy young men and women—none of them could possibly have a clue what filth festered in this world. Could grasp that countless warped souls desired for them to be hurt, to suffer. Those young, pretty girls, walking the streets so carefree. So easy to snatch away and-

She shuddered at completing the thought, and forced her mind somewhere else. No, not yet. You’re still with Di. Show some goddamn restraint! Her fingers and nails scratched the twill of her pencil skirt impatiently.

Tokyo seemed a pleasant enough city from what sights she caught out the car’s window. First time she had ever actually been here, but she felt as though she knew the place very well—her younger sister had been absolutely crazy in love and obsessed with this place ever since they were both young! She smiled, reclining in her seat, allowing her tired head to relish in some positive thoughts for once, remembering how Mary had shown such enthusiasm when talking at length of her plans to move abroad and focus on her music career. Even back then, Ash had found her sister’s ideas too naive (typical big sister-syndrome), but she had kept quiet, hoping that her little sister would dare to chase her dreams, naive as they may have been. At least one person in their family ought do something positive—something that brought them, and others, joy. Though now, when Ash knew the full extent of the dangers of being a woman alone in a big city... she... Mary... so easy to... control and-

Stop! Almost at my room, goddammit! You’re better than this, Ashley Moorey. You have restraint. A goddamn will of iron! Stubborn as a legion of mules, right? Show a modicum of self-control... bitch. Her sister was fine. Mary was fine!

“Sure you’ll be alright, Ash? You took a pretty heavy dose this time, right? I, umm... I could stay the night, or well... guess it’s almost morning now, if you want. Could keep you... company?” Her driver asked, tentatively, as they approached their destination.

“Thanks, I’ll be alright, Di. Just need to sleep it off some.” Ash shook her head at Dianne’s proposition; every moment she could feel the pull grow stronger and stronger, yet to be together with a sweet girl like Di right now would not do. Not do at all.

The ace detective maintained her professional, controlled composure in the long elevator ride up to her hotel room. She smiled politely at the well-dressed, but terribly drunk and rowdy, salarymen who shared the elevator with her. She half-considered asking the two of them to join her, but decided against it. They seemed nice enough, but right now she did not want nice. God, did she not want nice.

Slamming the door shut behind her, finally feeling the privacy of solitude, Ash kicked off her high heels and, let her suit jacket fall. She hiked down her pencil skirt and pantyhose in the midst of a frenzied dash to the restroom, unbuttoning her shirt while she did so. She threw her earpiece off somewhere along the way. She just wanted it gone!

Ash finally stood in her underwear in front of the large mirror above the sink. She had always looked young, now just a few months from thirty, but she could easily pass for a woman of ten years younger. Her body was toned, her skin a bit tanned and her hair kept short. A pretty girl, so alike the girls who had been on the stage, showing themselves off for the camera. She smiled at her reflection, letting her fingers trail down her abdomen, admiring her breasts, nipples already peaking beneath her lacy black bra. Ash dry swallowed, shifting her gaze to the gun she had carefully placed atop the sink.

Even in this controlled environment she had created for herself, she tried to fight her feverish mind’s instinct. Then, she noticed that her reflection—herself—was suddenly holding the gun. She raised it, and pointed it at the girl in the mirror. A pretty girl in lacy underwear, holding her at gunpoint. ”Please please please, let her have remembered to keep the safety on!” She thought, too drunk on desire to be able to actually pause and confirm it.

She stared at the absolute darkness of the muzzle, losing herself in its black hole. Ash relaxed her shoulders, readying herself to take a shot, just as she had practiced countless times before. The pretty girl smirked back at her, a haughty grin, as if she believed herself to hold power over Ash, just because of her weapon. Fancying herself something more than a bitch. More than a fucking cunt foreigner.

“Drop the gun.” She hissed to her reflection. The ace detective gripped the pistol tightly, all four fingers and thumb curling along the curves of chilled metal. “Drop the gun, bitch.” It echoed in her head still, the man’s overpowering voice. The low-life scum she had murdered. “Foreigner. Cunt bitch foreigner!” Thrummed in her skull, overpowering all other thoughts. Forcing her full attention to his voice. His orders! She narrowed her eyes, and focused on the armed slut in underwear. Her body was tense like a coiled spring, cold sweats ran down her belly and legs as though she had a terrible fever. She shouldn’t. She shouldn’t. She knew she needed to resist. She needed to fight. Needed a weapon! Resist him!! But... she wanted to. Needed to... let go. Obey.

Maddeningly slow, Ash loosened her hold of the pistol’s grip, one finger at a time. The girl’s maddened eyes hyper-focused on every little movement of her digits. In trance she beheld how her reflection’s grip slowly, teasingly-

The gun slipped out of her hands and fell to the bathroom floor with a metallic clang that reverberated in her, almost rivaling how the man’s voice still did!

Immediately, a shiver of pleasure coursed through her tight body! Ash arched her hips forward, now hyper-aware of the lacy fabric covering her crotch, the girl’s breath catching in her throat. She fell forward, gripping at the sink with spasming hands and leaned up against it, to the mirror. Everything felt so cold against her flushed skin. She pushed her panties aside, freeing her sex and fixated on the sight of the gun on the bathroom floor, as she slowly slumped down next to it.

She had done as ordered! She had obeyed! She was obedient! The girl trailed her fingers down her breasts, pulling on her erect nipples. She gave a loud moan, her other hand sliding down her stomach, over her mound, gripping her soaked pussy. “Oh god, oh dear god...” She whispered softly. “I’m such a bitch. A stupid cunt foreigner..! Ahhnn..!“

She continued rubbing herself, forcing her fingers to dig ever deeper, reveling in the pleasure. The gun! Slick metal shining under the restroom’s cold light. Dropped by her! Another intense ripple of satisfaction jolted through her body, when Ash let herself fully take in what she had done; she had let go of the gun, like the man had demanded. She was obedient! She was a good girl! Her legs cramped, and she kicked wildly, panting, grunting, her whole body shuddering. Ash was no policewoman, no ace detective, no ‘heroine’ despite what some people said—in this moment she was a mess of shaking, sweaty flesh, in desperate need of release.

“I’m such a bitch! A bitch cunt...! " She whimpered, rocking back and forth, rubbing herself harder, her foot reaching for the dropped gun, sensitive toes trailing over the metal. She was defenseless like this. No weapon, completely naked. Completely at his mercy. At anyone’s mercy. This! She was..!

Her floodgates finally burst, and Ash’s body convulsed, her head thrown back, her body wracked with spasms of pleasure, panting out low moans.

She rode a high that felt like it never ended, it may as well have been an eternity. But at last Ash’s fingers stilled, her breathing becoming soft pants as her bucking hips settled. The girl had lost count of how many orgasms she had experienced. By the end, it had not been pleasureful anymore but rather a forced need she had been compelled to satisfy.

The woman in heat’s fogged up head gradually cleared, and she found herself splayed out on the restroom floor. Her panties were a crumpled little silk ball, soaked with her juices, next to the gun. Her bra was still clasped, now askew on her torso, with her breasts laid bare. She was panting. Exhausted.

“Shit. She could barely remember the last... hour?” She groaned, and shambled on unstable legs back towards the hotel room’s door, her clothes discarded everywhere along the way. Her phone had two missed calls and it was halfway to noon. “Double shit! Make that one hour of enforced orgasmic bliss almost four.” Ash winced, massaging her forehead. “She had taken a heavy fucking dose indeed.”

Exhausted eyes stared at the disarray of clothes for a few seconds, but she did not bother putting them on again. Instead she steered her mess of a human form to the hotel bed and crash landed onto the soft futon. The ace detective fell asleep immediately.

Ash awoke to grating blips and blops of a ringing phone, a silly melody her sister had composed for her a long time ago. She sat up and groggily rubbed her face, and then reached for the cell phone lying on the nightstand. Five missed calls now. All from the same woman.

“Yeah?” She felt weird to talk. Honestly, it still felt wrong for her to do anything aside from dropping her gun and debase herself, to repeat the same insults over and over. She could feel herself getting better now, at least.

“Oh my gosh, Ash! You’re alright!?” Di’s voice. Always kind and compassionate. Hearing someone other than the lowlife that had commanded her obedience was strange too.

“Yup! No need to worry, Di. I’m Ashley Moorey, ‘Manhunter’, ‘The Young Ace of the Bureau’, am I not?” She tried a joke, quoting some trashy tabloid article from a year or so back. The interview was just some propaganda bullshit her boss had forced her to sit through. It had made her out to be some sort of superhero. Reality was much—she flashed back to herself masturbating on the bathroom floor, then to the young girl in the school swimsuit, covered in blood, dancing and giggling like a marionette despite her grotesque countenance—much more complicated. Less heroic and noble, more dirty.

“M-manhunter, huh?” After a few seconds of shocked silence, the girl on the phone chortled. “Umm, okay. How are you feeling? Any side effects or... well, any problems at all?”

“No no, I’m fine. That crap didn’t get to me at all. Stubborn as a mule, y’know? I’m just really, really freaking tired.” Ash lied in response.

“Wow! I sure am glad it’s you dealing with all this, Ash... Well, you’ve got a day or two off so be sure to take care and relax some. I’ll send you some great restaurants and places you could check out later. If you... umm... let me know if you want some company for dinner, okay?”

The ace detective thanked her friend and gave a soft sigh as soon as she hung up. Di was too sweet for this line of work. Too sweet for this world to be honest. Another foreigner bitch who-

No. Stop. This time it worked; the other voice in her head quieted down. The influence of his goddamn second-gen Buzzer finally began to fade.

While the tools her organization had recently developed allowed her, and other field agents, to resist commands issued by a mind control device, a so-called Buzzer, the tech was still in development and highly experimental. It did little to alleviate the allure and satisfaction of obeying an order or a command, especially a non-harmful one. So, while the tech actually made it possible for her, and other agents to resist the mind control creeps they now hunted, to actually do so required real self-control and a strong presence of mind.

She shuddered, revisiting splinters of memories of her writhing on the restroom floor, calling herself a ‘foreign cunt bitch’ over and over while her sex felt as though it was on flames. Ash prided herself over her unbreakable iron will, that she was as stubborn as a whole family of cranky mules, but even she had been reduced to a horny puddle that needed to—wanted to!—obey some yakuza creep human slaver. The power of this second-gen Buzzer tech was fearsome. The eggheads back at base really needed to step up their game, pronto, unless they wanted a bloodbath on their hands. Or something even worse than a bloodbath.

Well, enough musings in bed, she should get ready! Aside from a chance to crack down on some more sickos, Ash had been eager to lead an operation in Japan for another reason; she really, really needed to catch up with her sister.

Mary had been dodging her calls and ignoring her texts for a while now, which was extremely odd, as their sisterly dynamic just a little prior had been the reverse—Mary pestering Ash for attention while the older sister did her best to oblige despite being constantly swamped with work. If Mary were someone else, Ash would be extremely worried by now, but thanks to her younger sister’s job, she was easy to keep track of.

Ash subscribed to her sister’s weird roleplay online video streams, and they still came out almost every day. In fact, Mary had even increased the number of videos she produced per week. As the “ever serious older sister”, Ash struggled a little every time she heard the strange, screeching voice Mary used whenever she played the... what was it again, her “crocodile and cat” cartoon character. That voice made her sister sound like a child, and the way her viewers cheered on the green-haired gremlin’s tantrums and silly antics sure did not help alleviating the issues Ash took with the infantilization her sister was subjected to.

Even though her head was still throbbing, Ash grabbed her phone and logged onto the video streaming site to confirm her sister’s status. Today “Amethyst Croconyaa~” played some scary game, and Mary did a stellar job playing up how spooked she was by the happenings and how much in need she was of her viewers’ emotional support. Donations kept raining over her sister as usual and Mary made sure to thank each donor profusely, even claiming she loved a few of them.

Ash smirked and rolled around some more in bed, tittering to herself, listening to her born-actor of a little sister ham it up for her strange fans. Mary’s current profession was odd as hell, but it seemed harmless enough. How she could be raking in cash producing such infantile online entertainment was impossible to grasp for someone like Ash, but it did not seem a half-bad way to make a living as a side gig for a girl invested in “anime stuff” like Mary.

Stretching one last time, Ash amassed the willpower necessary to finally get up. Something was up with her little sister, but she seemed fine. Ash had seen so much shit these last few years that her mind could not help but wander somewhere dark. Cults, debts, forced labor. Buzzers. But this was most assuredly nothing more than the case of a hardworking young woman trying to establish herself in a burgeoning (sorta freaky, but not too bad) industry, affording her little time left over for her family. Besides, what kind of weirdo would even imagine making use of a mind control device to force Mary to broadcast anime-themed video streams all the time?

Ash dressed in civilian clothes but she had been instructed to always conceal carry, even when abroad. To her, that meant bringing the earpiece along as well. It was overly cautious (nobody would jump her with a goddamn Buzzer on the Tokyo subway in the middle of the day!) but trained habits were hard to shake. Besides, the music she listened to helped clear her head of the final vestiges of last night’s encounter.

Mary lived in what seemed like a trendy area of the city, perfect for an outgoing young woman like her! Passing by some night clubs on her brisk walk from the metro station, Ash could just imagine her bundle-of-joy little sister up on the stages there, performing her particular mix of rap and pop. Her sister’s music made little sense to her, but Ash had since long accepted that she was an “old soul” when it came to things like modern music and the other “internety” stuff that Mary was so attuned too. While Ash’s exterior may look ten years younger than her real age, her mental age was probably ready to retire.

The ace detective felt a surprising emotional high while she climbed the stairs to where she knew her sister lived. She absolutely had to ask Mary a little more about those clubs! Perhaps they could go out and drink some together? They never did things like that before, just the two of them, but they honestly should! Ash wanted to reconnect, hear more about how Mary’s weirdo life playing this “Amethyst Croconyaa~"—character treated her. How big of a cut of those ridiculous donations did Mary even get to keep? Was her sister a millionaire now or something?!

Her trained eyes spotted that the door to her sister’s place was unlocked. Ash considered the doorbell for a moment, but figured it would be more fun, more spontaneous (and out of character for her!), to just open the door and barge in: “Ash Moorey, your dry and straight-laced older sister’s showing up out of the blue, here in Japan—betcha didn’t expect that, sis!?” She chuckled to herself, and opened the door.

Ash stepped into her sister’s smallish apartment and was assaulted by so many terrible sights that it took her a brief moment to react! The one-bedroom apartment was incredibly messy and had almost no furniture aside from a computer and a desk. The walls, floor and even the ceiling were plastered with pictures and posters of Mary’s virtual avatar, so many of them that they overlapped here and there.

The crusty computer chair had been dragged to the middle of the room, and in it sat a man. A balding, middle-aged man with stubble and heavy-set eyes. The eyes were closed, and the man grunted ugly sounds as he leaned back, making himself comfortable in the chair. On the floor, with her face buried in the old man’s crotch was a girl on her knees, moaning as she rubbed her nose in his pubic hair. Wet sounds of the girl’s fingers filled the untidy room, intermingled with the man’s heavy breathing as his cock was serviced fervently by her mouth. The smacking sounds of the girl’s lips and tongue on the man’s shaft were almost drowned out by manic moans from the girl herself.

“M-mary?!” Ash gasped. It had taken her a second before she had recognized the woman giving fervent fellatio in this messed-up home. Her younger sister’s blonde hair was colored a garish shade of green, and she wore a halter top bra and panties of the same color and shading. Ash could make out thick swaths of make-up smeared over her sister’s face, runny marks of dark eyeshadow that streamed down hollowed cheeks.

Her sister’s body was almost unrecognizable! Mary had always been curvy, blessed with a perfect hourglass figure and just a trace of a belly that had made so many guys back home crazy about her! The pitiable “thing” on the floor looked sickly and malnourished, skinny enough that her belly had caved in on itself, ribs and bones visible under ashy skin.

Ash was no prude. If she had walked in on her sister blowing her boyfriend, or even some weirder and kinkier stuff, she would have laughed, closed the door and returned an hour later or so. Given the two lovebirds some time to properly enjoy themselves. This sickening display was not that! This was bad! Evil. Mind control shit. Her vision targeted the freak getting his dick wet just as he opened his sallow eyes in turn, and met her gaze, at last registering that they had a visitor.

“Oho! The sister!!” He laughed with an unassuming, boring sort of voice while leaning back some more. Her little sister kept sucking and sucking. “What a goddamn freak coincidence!”

The ace detective reached for her gun—this freak needed to be executed, she didn’t care about consequences! As she did so, Ash took note of how Mary tilted her head to look up at her, the younger girl still keeping her mouth vacuumed to the old guy’s penis.

“Shut the fuck up, creep! What the hell are—” The inquisition was abruptly cut short by a blood-curdling shriek, and some sort of wild animal pounced at her! No, not an animal—Mary! The twisted fury that shone in her sister’s eyes when the disheveled girl clawed and bit into her legs, trying to topple her, terrified Ash for a moment. Her body then acted on simple instinct; the ace detective executing the combat training she had gone through to handle violent junkies. She effortlessly put Mary in a hold, disabling the she-beast’s scratching arms and gnawing mouth.

“Calm the fuck down, Mary!” She growled, not consciously registering that the crazed creature she had just pinned was, or perhaps had been, her sister until she actually gave voice to it. Her sister, twisted to this thrashing monster. No! That was-

“Indeed. Calm down, Croconyaa~. Be still and quiet for a while.” Ash heard the pervert in need to be filled with bullets agree with her. The frenzied thrasher in her grasp obeyed him. “Hrmm... she hates you so much that she need to see you gone more than she desire to still the need to suck me off, huh? Kind of makes me... sad somehow, y’know? Like I’m less of a man...”

Ash whirled up from the floor, her weapon in her hand and aimed directly at the mass of revolting man flesh. He was just a bit taller than her, with a thick neck and greasy features; he nonchalantly displayed his erect member, shiny slick with her little sister’s spit, and stood before her naked, aside from a dirty old t-shirt featuring a bombardment of anime-styled porn pictures. The very avatar of a disgusting male pervert had reared its ugly, bigoted head before her!

“Now now, hand over that weapon, Ashley Moorey. A hot little thing like you shouldn’t play with dangerous toys like that. You agree, don’t you?” He murmured with a wolfish grin. Ash registered how a small mechanical device placed on her sister’s computer desk began to hum and whir along with his words and she felt the by now familiar echo of a pull from a Buzzer empower his revolting command. Her earpiece did what it should to cancel his toy out, and Ash met the rapist asshole’s grin and smiled back, defiantly.

“Screw you!” She recognized this feeling, the strength of the voice reverberating inside of her, trying to make her give over her gun. He packed first-gen gear; dealing with him would pose no problem at all!

“...g-guh..!” The man deflated before her very eyes, the cocky grin turning to a nervous smile, his erection going softer along the capitulation of his bravado. “Uhhh... p-perhaps we can, work something out, Ashley. Y-you’re umm... you’re a cop or something, right? I’m—”

“Shut it, creep. You’re gonna tell me all about what you did to my sister. I’m real interested in whoever handed an old loser fuck like you a fucking Buzzer! Then you’re gonna grovel for your life for a while.” And then I’ll shoot you dead for this, you rapist swine, she added mentally. Ash glanced over at the Buzzer placed on the desk, and took note that it looked different than the others. Much more primitive, like a typewriter compared to a computer. Curious, perhaps that was why the signals it emitted were so weak?

“O-of course, Ms. Moorey. I’ll tell you everything, p-please just—”

Ash reached out to touch the still whirring, weird-looking device; the ace detective’s demise occurred in less than an instant.

“Ahhnnhh..!” The girl both moaned and screamed as her legs gave in under her. She fell to the floor, as though she had just been electrocuted. As soon as her fingertips had come in contact with the metal of the primitive Buzzer, an impossible shockwave had erupted from it, into her, and had traveled along her spine all the way up to her brain. Her head suddenly felt an impossible jumbled mess of thoughts and ideas. She tried to move her limbs and failed. She tried to stand and failed. She tried to talk, to make any noise aside from a quiet, moaning whine, and failed. Every thought was a struggle, every movement an impossible chore. She OBEY needed SUBMIT this was WEAK she had SLUT her head BIMBO she SLAVE she Mary she... no....

The spasming girl on the floor vaguely registered how the ugly man walked up to her and squatted down beside her. His flaccid cock grew harder again by the second. Her mouth watered at the sight of such a delectable object. “No, that was wrong! She—”

“Jesus, am I glad I DNA-lock my shit!”

What SLAVE is he MASTER she was WHORE Ashley she her...

“Tsk-tsk.” He clicked his tongue and wiped away some drool and spittle than dribbled down Ashely’s chin with his dirty t-shirt. “So yeah, you just took a quick dose of the strongest stuff I have, detective Moorey. Forgive the political incorrectness, but you’re pretty much retarded now. Retarded, obedient and constantly horny. Some guys enjoy that shit, but to me, seeing a hot slut reduced like this—it’s just a waste of a... beautiful mind.”

“I’ll answer one of your questions now, though: how I got the ‘Buzzer’ as you just called my sweet little mechanical baby girl.” He grabbed her face and made Ash look at him. Her eyes spun in her head and she could barely grasp that there was someone talking to her. All she could take in was that he had a hard cock, and how weird it was that it was not already jammed deep inside of her.

“I built it myself! Just like I’ve made all the other weaker devices getting spread around now. Fun stuff, huh? Keeping you straight-and-narrow boys and girls on your toes. Still, can’t believe this fucking coincidence, running into you on the very day and hour I finally decided to cash in on that overdue fuck from cute little Amethyst Croconyaa~. This must be destiny, huh? A sign from high above that I should take you under my wing!”

“See, I’ve taken upon myself the arduous duty to provide some proper guidance to troubled young women. Maidens who’ve lost their way and place in this great maelstrom of chaos we call modern life and society. By my reckoning, you fit the bill as well as one could, detective Moorey. You want my help? In need of a life coach, perchance? ”

“Khhh..! Y-y... ffkk..!” She tried to FUTILE communicate something WORTHLESS It’s SUCK she it’s COCK why was SUBMIT she... SHE NEEDED TO SUBMIT AND SERVE AS A GOOD LITTLE SLUT! No..! That’s not... WORSHIP HIS SUPERIOR COCK! OFFER HIM HER EVERYTHING! S-stop!

“C’mon, defiant ’til the bitter end, detective? You really wanna remain like this and rot away sucking dicks in some two-bit brothel? Hell, I’ll even promise you that I’m not gonna mess with your head when I fix you back up. Not that you’d ever know if I actually did.” He snickered. ”You are in need my help and counsel aren’t you, detective Moorey?”

“H-h...h-eelp..” Her sluggish mouth managed to pant out, in-between the moans.

“Fucking hell!! That’s almost enough to make me cum right there!” He hollered and hooted. “Ball-busting ‘Ace Detective’ Ashley Moorey, the ‘Manhunter’ herself, begging me for help? Where’s that sister of yours?! I’ve got a raging boner for that delusional anime basketcase to take care of!” The man looked vigorously around the room, as if he needed to search for Mary, still prone on the floor by the door. “You just held me at gunpoint but now you’re in dire need of me aren’t you, bitch detective?!” The inventor of her demise fell silent for a moment, and then shrugged. “Well, why not? I’ve been in the mood to try improving the efficacy of the process for rebuilding a broken mind for a while now.”

“Pl—...” She HORNY had no WEAK control SUBMIT over her lips SUCK her tongue LICK. Iron will WHORE. Iron will SLUT. “Please... h-help...” She whimpered. Anything. Anything but a second more of this.