The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Author’s note: This story is a sequel to ‘The Society’ also by me, and should be read as such. It’s highly unlikely you’ll understand, well, anything unless you read that story first. Sorry.

With that out of the way....

The Society 2: Masks and Capes

Prologue: That old familiar feeling....

Teresa pushed forward; shaping her will into a diamond edged scalpel with which to cut out the last remaining scraps of Conrad’s control. Carla’s mind was like an open fuse-box, a mess of criss-crossing wires that had been clamped and altered by Conrad’s madness.

She reached out with her mind and sliced away a particularly dangerous strand of mind control that linked Carla’s pleasure centre to the sensation of kneeling.

Another cut and a blockage that stopped Carla from accessing her memories and creating an emotional link with them disappeared. Slice, slice. It was dangerous work; slow work. But it would all be worth it in the end.

Another strand; the last one for today, she decided. She peered at it, examining its shape; the rough contours that identified it as a major piece of mind reshaping. Hmmmm. She cut into it.

Beside her, in the real world, Carla arched her back and came. Hard.

Load bearing, she realized. She sliced the strand away and waited for the result. The web of mind control Conrad had built trembled, then collapsed.

She traced her way back through the willing, eager mind in front of her and slowly opened her eyes.

“Do you hear me, Ms. Hines?” Teresa asked, her voice trembled with the exertion of what she’d just done.

Turning a mind into a quivering ball of bimbo was hard. Turning it back to normal was even harder.

“Like....” The bimbo in front of her groaned and her whole body spasmed once, “....totally?”

Teresa leaned in closer. The speech patterns would be difficult to remove, hopefully not too difficult, “Do you remember your name, Ms. Hines?”

Positive reinforcement. One of many skills Teresa had learned under the tutelage of her old Mistress.

“Um,” She placed a single finger against her bottom lip as she tilted her heavily made-up face upwards, deep in thought, “Carli?”

“No,” Teresa gently shook her head from side to side, “Carla. Carla Hines. Detective.”

The bimbo shifted her weight and then cupped her jiggling breasts. A second later and realization dawned on her face. Her eyes snapped open as her mouth tried, in a panicked frenzy, to work itself, “Oh god, I was alone...and there was darkness...and a pink light...and....and....and...”

Teresa’s hand shot forward and pushed the no longer quite as bimbofied Carla Hines back into her seat. Her hand brushed against the squirming woman’s breast and Teresa noted the shiver of pleasure that ran through her as she fell back against the couch, “Calm down, you’re safe here.”

Carla’s eyes glanced around the room and then she fell still, “...The Lusaka building...?”

Teresa managed half a smile at that, “Under new management, of course.”

Carla gently sat up; cautious eyes swinging back and forth around the room. Inquisitive, Teresa noted mentally, that means she’s learning, which means her mind is working again, more or less.

“Here,” Teresa offered the woman her hand, “Let me show you around. You have a lot to learn about the new world you live in.”

Carla glanced from the offered hand, to the face of the woman it belonged to, then back again, “What. The. Fuck.”

Teresa’s smile broadened as she pulled Carla to her feet, “I knew you’d say that.”

“How?” Carla cocked her head and stumbled forward. She glanced down and her eyes widened into saucers, “W-what’s happened to my body?”

Teresa nodded slowly, “Well, for your first question, I’m something of a prodigy. And for your second...”

Carla gently poked a patch of bronzed skin and then hefted a large, round tit in her right hand, “...yes?”

“You’ve been through a lot,” Teresa nodded slowly, flashing a sharp grin from in-between her full, pink lips, “You were the victim of a mind controller.”

Carla swallowed audibly, “A mind controller?”

“Yes,” Teresa nodded, flinching at the disbelief in Carla’s voice, “A very sadistic one; with a penchant for bimbos.”

Carla’s eyes roamed across Teresa’s body; chocolate skin covered by a tailored suit. Then at her own; mocha skin covered (barely) by a string bikini.

Teresa followed her gaze, “I’m sorry. It’s the only thing I could get you to wear.”

Carla nodded dumbly and then shook her head, “This is crazy.”

“Yes,” Teresa nodded, “But sadly it’s also the truth.”

“What happened to the man who did this to me?” Carla asked, suppressing a shiver.

“He’s imprisoned. The basement.” Teresa jerked her thumb downwards, “He’s not a problem anymore.”

Carla took a shaky step forward. Teresa hooked her arm under the shivering woman’s and directed her to the elevator.

“Nice place,” Carla nodded, looking around at the walls, each one had been decorated with African artwork and pottery.

“Thanks,” Teresa shrugged, “Figured it could use a more homely look.”

The elevator opened with a slight ‘ding’ as they approached.

A woman was standing inside. Her figure was a perfect hourglass, but contained in a pristine, pin-striped suit; much like Teresa’s. Her breasts were the same size as Carla’s, her lips were a deep, sensuous ruby red and her eyes were hidden behind a pair of almond sunglasses.

A gun holster was strapped to her curvaceous frame.

“Carla?” The woman asked, her voice was fraught with anticipation, and a hint of worry.

Carla paused, her eyes narrowed as she took in the beauty before her, “...Lisa?”

“Oh thank god, you’re alright,” Lisa sighed as she stepped forward and pulled Carla into a hug. Carla gave a low moan as their breasts brushed together. A tingle of pleasure shot up her spine as Lisa’s hands wrapped around her body.

“Ah, yes,” Teresa gave a slight sound next to them, “Your bodies will still be incredibly sensitive.”

Carla pulled away, and looked up into the sunglass shrouded eyes of her former partner, “You’re not usually the kind to get so touchy feely, Lisa.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Lisa smiled and pulled her into another hug, “Christ I was so worried.”

Carla slid a trembling hand up to Lisa’s chest and gave the soft flesh there a slight squeeze, “So I take it you got the bimbo bug as well, huh?”

Lisa gave a moan as she nodded and swiped Carla’s hand aside, “Yeah. But we made it through, thanks to Maria and her friend Teresa here.”

“Oh,” Carla clapped an apologetic hand over her mouth as she turned back to Teresa, “I forgot...thanks.”

Teresa nodded, “Just doing my job.”

“How do you feel?” Lisa asked, brushing aside a strand of platinum blonde hair.

“Good,” Carla nodded, “I...don’t remember much...”

Lisa nodded, “Yeah, well, Teresa and I agreed the less you remember the better.”

Teresa ushered them inside the elevator, “Lisa was the first one I was able to change back. She insisted that you be the second.”

“Thanks, ma’am,” Carla blushed.

“We’re not detectives anymore, Carla,” Lisa smiled, “It’s just ‘Lisa’ from now on.”

“Right,” Carla nodded, then rolled the name around on her tongue, “Lisa.”

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Teresa glanced at Lisa, “Maria was wondering if you’d stop by some time. Says she needs help finding someone; she was wondering if you’d be able to contact someone at the police department about it.”

“Of course,” Lisa nodded, “If you think you can hold down the fort here?”

Teresa shrugged, “Carla’s here now. Shouldn’t be too difficult.”

“How is Maria?” Carla asked as Teresa reached across and pressed the ‘7’ button. The elevator jerked down an inch, then hummed into life and began to descend.

“Well, she came out the end of the ordeal better than us, if that’s what you were wondering; no big tits or DSL’s for her,” Lisa shrugged, “She’s living up at the Kane manor, now.”

“She wasn’t really a private investigator, was she?” Carla asked cautiously, cocking an eyebrow.

“No,” Lisa shook her head, “And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. She’s a controller-hunter. She hunts people with abilities or, well, anyone who can control minds really. The bad ones, at least. Like the one that got us.”

Carla nodded slowly, digesting the information, then she sighed, “I wish I’d never found any of this out.”

“I know the feeling,” Lisa grinned as the elevator doors opened again.

Teresa stepped out into a corridor filled with white light, Carla shielded her eyes with her hands as she followed her.

“Woah,” Carla groaned as her eyes adjusted.

“Yeah, the cell lights are a little bright,” Lisa grunted from behind her, “You get used to it.”

Carla glanced around; the corridor was lined with steel-cast doors, “Cells?”

“More like holding facilities,” Teresa explained, gesturing to the nearest one, “It’s where we keep the other victims; the ones I haven’t fixed yet.”

“Right,” Carla nodded, then glanced back. Lisa was standing in front of one cell, peering in through the small glass window set in its centre, “Lisa?”

Lisa jerked around, “Sorry.”

“Who is it?” Carla peered in through the window. A woman lay on a large bed; sedated. Her huge chest rose and fell gently beneath the pink bed-sheet that covered her.

“Camille,” Lisa sighed, “A friend.”

Carla twitched once and then uttered a sharp giggle.

Lisa glanced at her sharply. Carla sighed, “Sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

“I did everything I could, but some small elements of Conrad’s control might have embedded themselves in your mind,” Teresa said from behind them, “I wasn’t expecting to have you back to normal so soon, it was just luck that I found the nexus-point when I did.”

“Right,” Carla turned. Teresa thrust a bundle of clothes into her hands. It was a suit, like the one Lisa wore; someone had let it out a bit to accommodate her more shapely frame.

“Something the previous owner left behind,” Teresa smiled, “Get dressed.”

“No bra?” Carla winced as she slid into the trousers and pulled the jacket over her shoulders.

Teresa shrugged, “Couldn’t find one that would fit you.”

Lisa jerked her thumb towards the pistol that hung at her side, “Give her gun back, Teresa.”

“If you’re sure,” Teresa sighed, producing a web-holster from behind her back.

Carla glanced between the two women as she took the offered gun and wrapped it’s holster around her body, “Thanks.”

It was her old side-arm; a slim 9mm, “Just like old times.”

“Not exactly,” Lisa shrugged ruefully, “But it’ll do.”

“Come on,” Teresa gestured back to the elevator, “Let’s head up to my office, see if we can’t contact your family.”

They filed into the elevator; Carla and Lisa making sure not to rub or bump against anything that could set their nerve endings off.

Teresa’s office was at the top floor of building and much like the room they’d been in when Carla woke up it too was covered with native African paraphernalia.

Teresa led them to the desk at the centre of the room, a semi-circle of video monitors were arranged around a phone, “Anyone in particular you’d like to call?”

“Uh,” Carla rubbed her temple, “I don’t know about this, maybe we should wait until I’m a bit more, um, normal.”

Teresa rubbed her chin thoughtfully and glanced at the monitors, “Yes, mayb-“

Her face tightened into a confused grimace, “Who the hell?”

Lisa stepped around the table, “What is it?”

Through the fuzzy screen of the monitor they could make out three lean, dark shapes standing in front of the front door of the ground floor lobby.

“What are they doing?” Lisa asked aloud, furrowing her brow as she leaned in close to the monitor.

“Oh shit,” Teresa gasped.

The building rocked with the explosion as the front doors blew inward. Dust and fire washed across the monitor. A second later the picture came back. Lisa cried something unintelligible as she realized what was happening.

Dark shapes; tens, if not hundreds of them, were streaming into the building.

“Shit!” Lisa gasped, pulling her pistol free from her holster. Carla did the same.

“What is it?” She shrieked, her heart throbbing at a blistering pace inside her chest.

“Get to the cells!” Teresa snapped, “Get as many out as you can! Through the garage!”

Lisa hurdled the desk, knocking the monitors flying. They crashed and sparked against the ground as she pushed past Carla and headed for the stairs.

“What are you going to do?” Carla asked, her eyes fixed onto the destroyed remains of the monitors.

“I can handle myself,” Teresa ground her teeth together as she headed for the elevator, “Now, go! Head with Lisa.”

Lisa paused as she pushed open the stairs to the elevator, “Teresa...”

Teresa glanced back at them as she stepped inside the elevator, “Get them out, Lisa. Go to the address I told you about.”

The elevator doors slid shut.

“...good luck.”

Then she was gone.

* * *

Teresa tapped her foot impatiently against the floor of the elevator as it descended. This was the first time she’d ever felt impatient. The first thing Madam Kane had taught her was that patience, and a liberal dosage of her unique talents, would snare far more slaves than rushing in half-cocked would.

She let out a long, low sigh as the elevator doors slid open. A horde of gleaming faces stared at her. Latex. That’s what the black material had been, she realized. They filled the lobby; wall to wall like the terracotta warriors. Each one a female figure covered from head to toe in shining, slick latex.

Each drone stood completely still. Identical. Even their eyes were covered by the vacuum sealed hoods they wore.

A single human face stood out amongst the masses.

“Masque,” Teresa smiled, “I should have known.”

“Teresa, my dear,” The woman stood atop the reception desk; her lithe body was wrapped in a figure-hugging corset. A fiery red mane of hair stretched down her back, “How are you?”

“Fine,” Teresa gave a curt nod.

“Do you like my drones?” Madam Masque gestured to the army of obedient, mindless creatures that filled the lobby.

“I’m more of a rubber fan, myself,” Teresa nodded politely, “But I must admit, you’ve changed a lot since we last met.”

Masque’s lips twisted upwards into a vicious gash of a smile, “Haven’t I? No longer lapping at the heels of those sycophants in the Society. Your little debacle here changed things you know. There was a war in Europe. A war for control. Fought in the backrooms of whorehouses and the basements of sex shops.”

“I can’t imagine you won,” Teresa glanced down at her feet, “You never were a very good adjutant.”

“I did actually,” Masque gritted her teeth, “When all the Mistresses were distracted I struck. They’re in here, somewhere.”

Teresa glanced around at the rows of faceless faces, “Intriguing.”

“Now, where is Kane?” Masque stepped gingerly down from atop the desk, the drones parted like the waves of some nightmarish sea; not a single one bumped or jostled another. The movement was smooth, yet rigid. Perfectly synchronized. Perfectly controlled.

The corner of Teresa’s lips curved upwards into a faint smile, “In all this excitement, I forgot, actually.”

“Funny,” Masque snarled.

“Not really,” Teresa retorted and lashed out with her mind.

Masque swayed slightly on her heels, “I’m afraid you’ll have to do better than that, my dear.”

Teresa paused, confusion etched into her features, “How?”

Masque tapped her ear, “Nano-filaments, wired all across my brain. Clever, no? Needless to say, you’re little mind-warping and telepathy and all that nonsense won’t work on me.”

Teresa took a slight step back. She reached out with her mind, seeking the brain of the drone closest to Masque.

There was nothing. Nothing but an afterimage of Masque’s boot-heel. The cleft of her toes as she pressed her foot down into the slave’s back.

They were empty.

Completely empty.

“Impossible,” Teresa gasped.

“It’s the hoods, you see,” Masque caught the chin of the nearest drone with her fingers and turned it’s featureless face towards her, “It erases everything; everything besides the hidden part. The submissive part. The part of your brain that just wants to give in. That wants this. That needs this. That needs me. Oh Teresa, you’re going to love it.”

She leapt for the elevator. Four pairs of hands grabbed her, held her tight. Then six, then twelve. The horde of drones surged forward as one crashing against her and holding her fast. She shrieked. A blood-curdling cry that rent the air.

Masque smiled and stepped toward her struggling form. In her hand was a slick, latex hood. A dim light glowed from within.

“I’ve been waiting so long for this,” She smiled, “Don’t fight it. Maybe it’ll keep a little part of you if you make it believe that you want to serve me.”

She leant in and pulled the latex hood down over Teresa’s head.

“But probably not.”

* * *

The van coughed and stuttered as Lisa through it into fourth gear.

“We should go back,” Carla gasped from the passenger seat.

“No,” Lisa cut across her, “Not a chance.”

Behind them, in the rear of the van Camille and the other bimbos groaned and began to stir. The sedative was wearing off.

“We should get Maria then, go to her,” Carla glanced into the rear-view mirror to make sure they weren’t being followed.

“No,” Lisa said again, softer this time, “If we lead them to her...”

“What then?” Carla hissed, “Where are we going.”

“To a friend, someone we can trust. Someone who can help them,” Lisa jerked her thumb over her shoulder, “A fixer.”

Carla sighed and slumped in her chair, “This is so fucked up.”

Camille groaned as another bimbo slid between her legs and began to eat her out.

“I know,” Lisa nodded, “Now buckle up.”

TO BE CONTINUED....