The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Alright!” I said roughly two and a half hours later as we left the hospital. “Clean bill of health! Finally! Now we can discuss you fixing my armor...”

“Hmmm,” Fraiser said, noncommittally, as we walked back to the car. I frowned at that. I’d been hoping for something closer to an affirmative. Before I could press him, he asked. “Hungry? It’s been several hours now between your fight with the Insect Society and getting checked out at the hospital. I’d imagine you’re starving about now.”

I frowned, wanting to deny it, to focus the conversation back on getting my armor fixed, but, almost like in a cartoon, my stomach picked that moment to growl. Loudly. Blushing nearly scarlet, I just nodded. Frasier chuckled.

“Aye, I thought as much. We can stop by and pick up something along the way if you like. Just let me know what yer in the mood for.”

I smirked at that. “Really? You’d stop by some fast food restaurant to grab me some food? You’d pull up to the drive-thru at Jack in the Box in this limousine?” I laughed aloud at the very idea. “I can just imagine the other billionaires of the world hanging their heads in shame.”

Eugene smirked back. “That’s actually assuming that I care one whit about what anyone else thinks,” he replied easily. Tapping a button on the console, he lowered the privacy screen, revealing the limo’s driver. “Christina, we’re taking a detour,” he replied with a nod. “Stop by the closest Jack in the Box. Oh, and we’ll be going through the drive-thru,” he added with a grin.

“Of course, Master,” the chauffeur replied simply before Frasier raised the privacy partition once more. I couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at that.

“You have your servants call you ‘Master’?” I asked evenly. “Is that some kind of ego thing, or is she secretly one of your brainwashed slaves?”

Eugene paused for a moment. “I’d say equal parts of both, actually.” I blinked in surprise. “Christina there was once a rather evil and merciless crime boss that tried to attack and kill my family and friends. When she was defeated, and the question of what to do with her came up, we decided on a rather... unorthodox plan,” he stated with a sigh. “Basically, she’s been rehabilitated, for the most part, though a part of that requires keeping a constant eye on her, just in case she begins to revert back to her old ways again.”

I took a moment to process that. He’d... he’d basically just admitted to capturing and brainwashing a criminal, and rather than turning her in to the police, he’d basically kept her and turned her into his own private servant! Something of my disbelief and disgust must have shown on my face because he immediately snapped. “Dinnae even BEGIN to give me any of yer self-righteous blather, ye wee nipper! Aye, I ken exactly what I did in this doesnae mesh exactly wit’ the high and mighty ideals of bein’ a hero! But there’s doing what’s right and there’s’ doin’ what’s necessary, and sometimes the two dinnae coincide!” He sighed deeply, glancing down.

“And you couldn’t simply take her to jail for her crimes?” I asked him anyway, wanting, no, needing to understand. “You say ‘necessary’... but explain it to me, then. Make me believe that this is more about justice and not about revenge for what she tried to do to the people you care about!”

To his credit, he did. The old man had a bit of a temper to him, as I’d learned first hand when we fought in New York. And yet, despite everything he always seemed to keep a cool and composed view, even when driven by emotion, he always though and responded logically. As he detailed in, rather graphic terms, everything that this ‘Serpentina’ had done, I began to understand exactly what kind of a threat she represented. And while I didn’t agree with his choice to brainwash her into becoming his obedient servant, understanding her connections, her power and wealth, and her snakelike abilities, I reluctantly agreed that trying to hold her in jail would be practically impossible.

He sighed softly as we pulled up to the drive-thru window. “I know this may come as something of a shock to you,” he said softly. “And yer maybe too young and too full of hope and optimism to accept this, but take it from an old battle-worn cynic. The world isn’t simply black and white. There’s a lot of gray area in between, and sometimes, no matter how pure your motives, you have to dip into that area. All ye can do in the end is to try yer best to abide by yer own moral code and hope that that’s enough...”

The drive back to Casa de Frasier was rather quiet and subdued. I’d never exactly been enamored with the idea of working with the guy who’d humiliated me back in New York. And learning more about his methods, I found myself looking forward to this even less. I mean, Armor Man WAS a hero. There was no disproving that fact. He and Omega Girl and the other heroes in this city had saved it and the world dozens of times over. Even the events that had taken place back in New York was all a lead up to him stopping a worldwide threat from that madman Duncan Frasier, who’d planned to pretty much take over and destroy the world with an army of Omega Girl clones. The battle had been transmitted over pretty much every satellite and media outlet in the world.

And in the end, he did it. He stopped his brother, and take down the clone army. Again, there was no denying that. It’s just... he had to do some pretty shady shit to get to that point. Violating a sovereign country’s borders, basically invading Cyprus in an unstoppable fully armed weapon of mass destruction, just to get at his brother. Not to mention all the battered and beaten snitches and associates of Duncan Frasier that he’d beaten to a pulp to get the information that lead him there in the first place. The man had gone full-on ‘Dark Knight’ in his pursuits, and that... just left a bad taste in my mouth.

Nevertheless, I did need his help.

“Follow me,” he said as we made our way down the hallway of his spacious and stylish mansion, with me following, carrying a heavy metal case containing the broken remains of my armor. “The lab is this way.” He placed his hand against a seemingly random place on the wall, which lit up with a greenish light, running up and down, scanning his palm. “Eugene Frasier... and guest,” he spoke aloud, glancing back at me with a wink, as the wall opened up, revealing a stairway leading down. “Security is key in this business,” he stated as he lead me back down into the darkness. “I have other such workshops about the city, as well my own private workshop at the plant. But here is where I do most of my tinkering, most of my freeform inventing. It’s also where I store all of my projects, past, and present, those finished and those still in development.” he paused at the entrance and turned to look at me. “The number of people outside my immediate family that have been beyond here is less than the fingers on my left hand. It’s a measure of trust that I do not give lightly.” With that, he moved aside and allowed me to step forward into...

Whoa.

If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought we’d transported up to a futuristic space station in orbit instead of walking into a simple basement! But, well, simple was far from the best word to describe this place! It was so much bigger and wider than the house we’d walked through to reach this place, and that of itself was saying something! And... everywhere I looked, I saw strange machines and computer terminals, a few hundred projects, all running different kinds of experiments or tests, yet rather than seem chaotic or distracting, everything seemed to be working in perfect symmetry, in seamless conjunction that boggled the mind. It was... incredible.

It felt like the kind of place you could perform technological miracles. I had little doubt that he could repair my broken armor in a place like this!

“All right, first of all, let’s dispose of this trash,” he said, hauling the case containing my wrecked armor to the mouth of what appeared to be some kind of pneumatic press. Before my wide eyes, he chucked it in, and with a slow soft hiss, the press came down, stomping it all flatter than a sheet of paper!

“AAAAHHH! WHAT THE HELL?!?” I yelled, moving past him to stare in shock at my armor, my pride and joy, reduced to scrap metal.

“Dinnae fausch,” he replied dismissively, walking away, “it will be recycled. That suit you were using is more than two decades old. It was way past its prime, which is why it couldn’t stand up to Cricket’s little sound barrage.”

I rounded on my host, glaring. “Past it’s prime?!? Maybe it was little more than trash to YOU, Mr. High and Mighty Billionaire, but that thing was my entire life! I’ve fought countless villains in that suit, and put blood sweat and tears into keeping it going, fixing it, upgrading it... and you... you just... tossed it away like trash!” I couldn’t help it. Even though it was childish to get teary-eyed about something like this, tears started to flow. Angry tears. Tears of fury.

Nonplussed, Eugene merely walked over to a white featureless wall. Holding up his hand, he tapped a small button on the watch on his right wrist, causing the wall to open up. “Dinnae fausch, lass,” he said simply, “as I said it was past its prime. But I think we can do a bit better than that. How about a replacement?”

I gaped in wonder as the panels slid back, revealing about twenty armored suits of different styles and configurations. I felt as if the gears in my mind had skipped a bit, as I struggled to wrap my brain around what I was being offered. I mean... my Shining Paladin suit had been my treasure, my outlet into the life of heroes. I’d cherished it ever since discovering it inside my mother’s vault all those years ago, discarded and forgotten. I’d realized it for what it was, however, and with a lot of hard work had gotten it fully functional. Even then, though, I’d always known it was something of a relic. A powerful tool or weapon in the wrong hands, but still outdated.

Standing before me now, however, was the real thing. These suits were sleek and updated, modernized, each worn and used by Armor Man himself, and each well maintained and cared for by the creator’s own hands. The difference between these suits and my old one was night and day... like comparing a caveman’s stone and chisel to an iPad touch!

Okay, so maaaaybe not THAT much of a stretch, but close.

I glanced back at Eugene Frasier, who simply stood there, waiting patiently. “Okay... not that I don’t appreciate this greatly—which I do, believe me, I do!” I added quickly. “But... why are you doing this? Why open your home up to a complete stranger this way? Why share your technology with a girl you hardly even know?”

Gene’s expressed twisted into a frown. “Lass, I’ll try not to take that as an insult,” he grunted, walking back over to me. “First of all, I wouldn’t call you a complete stranger. I’d think after New York, I’d say that I know you about as well as anyone can, aside from in the, ahem, biblical sense.” I blushed heatedly at that. The bastard HAD seen me completely naked after he’d stripped me of my armor during our battle after all. “And as ye ken,” he continued, “your mother, Tina, is a very dear and close friend, one of my former employees, and one of the few I’d trusted to share the secrets of my armor with. And, seeing as how yer already somewhat familiar with it, and that yer using it for a good purpose, there’s little harm in continuing to share and support your endeavors.”

Huh. He did have a point. I mean, really, there was little need to withhold his tech from me at this point. It wasn’t as if it was a secret or anything. Still, there was a difference between knowing about something and getting full access to it. Which still begged the unspoken question of... why.

“So, all that aside,” I asked him point blank, “what do you want from me in return?” he blinked, his cold facade slipping for just an instant. I smirked at that. I’d always had a knack for reading people, and that tell, brief as it was, clued me in that I was on the right track. “I mean, I get it. My mom is an old friend, and she asked you to look out for me. And obviously, from everything you said on the trip here, you’ve been keeping track of me, watching me from afar, ready to move in case I needed help. Which, apparently, I did,” I replied ruefully, rubbing my arm. “But there’s more to it than just that, isn’t there? There’s something you want from me in return.” I crossed my arms. “So... spill it. What do you want? What’s the hidden price for this aid you’re offering me?”

Eugene blinked again... then laughed aloud. He chuckled deeply, shaking his head, which only confused me more. What had I said that was so funny?!? “Ah, lass,” he replied after a moment. “Yer a clever one, just like yer ma. The girl was always good at figuring out puzzles. A real analytical mind on that one... and it seems you’ve got the knack as well.” He sighed. “Aye... there is something I want from you for my help. A price for giving you access to my technology.” He turned to stare me directly in the eye. “Erika Patrick... I want you.”

“WHAT?!?” I yelped, going absolutely crimson. “Y-y-y-you... want m-me?” I asked, gasping, taking a step back in alarm. “I... I mean... you’re old enough to be my grandfather,” I protested, blushing even darker as the words escaped my lips. “No! I didn’t mean it like that... I just—”

“Hauld yer wheesht!” he growled, cutting me off. He grunted, rolling his eyes. “Bloody... I’m not talking about sexually! Mother of god...yer about the same age as my daughter!” Taking a breath, calming down, he tried again. “Lass... what I was attempting to say is... that I want you... Erika Patrick, to take over for me. I want you to take my place as the armored protector of River City.” I blinked at him. “Lass... I’m asking you to become the new Armor Man.”