The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

All of London was buzzing about the mysterious masterthief known as The Viper, who was believed to be able to slither through any security conceivable by man. Infrared sensors were rendered useless when The Viper stole various items recovered from the Tomb of Imhotep wearing a fully insulated dogi. Motion detectors were constantly going off as bats, ravens, dogs, cats and animals of every sort rampaged through the Royal Museum the night the Silver Buddha disappeared without a trace. A laser grid once thought to be completely unnavigable by humans proved no match for The Viper’s cunning agility, and the Mask of Pele was lost.

So Scotland Yard was a little skeptical when an American youth of no more than twenty-one, with dirty blonde hair and flashing hazel eyes, dressed in ripped blue jeans, a “No Fear” ball cap, worn and scuffed shoes, and a high school letter jacket, unzipped to reveal a short-sleeved T-shirt which depicted an assorment of certain pocket-sized monsters being strafed by a certain pair of humanoid felines (or feline humanoids) in an F-14 Tomcat, offered to take The Viper off their hands...for a price.

“What could you possibly know about The Viper that we don’t?” asked one of the head inspectors, a grizzled old man with a white mustache. “We’ve been on his tail for weeks without a lead. What makes you think you can do better?”

“Because I already have.” the youth replied. “You just referred to The Viper as a male. A typical gender assumption, but incorrect. The Viper is female, the daughter of a Spaniard born into a rich family who sent him to Japan to learn discipline under the great masters of Ninjitsu. Her mother was the daughter of a recently-killed South American druglord, and a mistress of poisons. From her father, she got the skills of the best of the best of the ninjas, and from her mother, she learned that the law is a set of rules set up by the prey to keep away the predators, and she also learned her mother’s skill with poison.”

“You’ve got no proof.”

“And you’ve got no other options.” the youth said, sliding a CD over to the inspector. “There are twenty-five account numbers on that disk. If you want The Viper out of your hair, transfer one thousand pounds sterling to each of the accounts. If you wish to learn the location of her stolen loot and have a chance at getting it back, I’ll need ten thousand each. If you want the loot on your doorstep, the price for that is one hundred thousand in each of my accounts. Upon confirmation of the transfer, the funds will automatically be redistributed along a random, untraceable path around the world market, fueling the worldwide economy and doing its small part to make the world a somewhat less miserable place to live, while netting me an extra juicy percentage in the process.”

“Out of our hair?” the inspector asked. “We don’t want her to be simply out of our hair, we want her in custody to answer for her crimes.”

“It’s not like the world’s going to end if The Viper doesn’t become a permanent resident of some musty hole somewhere. Besides, I intend to make use of her in more, shall we say, civic-minded pursuits.”

“If you wish to help us, it will be through legal means.”

“Fine, then let her rob your British asses blind, for all I care.” the youth said, snatching his disk and storming toward the exit. Two special agents blocked his path. With unexpected speed and skill, he K.O.’d the agents and continued toward the door.

“Wait.” the inspector said. The youth turned back, eyes narrowed in irritation. “What do you intend to do with her?”

“Why should I tell you?” the young man demanded. “Why should I give you ideas?”

“You can be arrested as an accessory to her crimewave.” the inspector said.

“Fuck you.” The youth stormed out into the hall, shoving a male intern into a large trash receptacle on the way out. The inspector grabbed his shoulder.

“Perhaps we can work out a deal.” the inspector said, in a more respectful tone.

The Viper moved as silently as the shadow of the wind, clad in a tight-fitting black outfit complete with mask. Her long, ruby hair was done up in a bun and covered by said mask. Her B-cup breasts and round, shapely hips which flowed into the long, slinky legs which gave her most of her height also gave her a certain slinkiness that entranced the eye...when she could be seen. Her booted feet made little noise as she put to use all the stealth training she had received during her life. It had taken her a long time to figure out that this was where the artifacts for the Sekhmet exhibit were being stored until space could be made at the Royal Museum. A web of spidersilk-fine electric wire had been spun over the skylights and windows, which would alert authorities to any break-in through there. The only door was a thick, steel one which had, when swung open, revealed the thickness and reinforced nature of the walls. Electric eyes and security cameras guarded the roof, protecting the only viable entrance to the building: an air conditioning unit. She was impressed by the level of redundency in the security computers and the frequency with which they were checked against one another—too quickly for them all to be altered, and she couldn’t alter them simultaneously due to numerous failsafes built into the system which would take hours to bypass. Hours she didn’t have. It had taken until two in the morning for this opening to reveal itself. The south side of the building would have no guards patrolling it for approximately three seconds, from 2:12 and 59 seconds to 2:13 and 2 seconds, due to the pattern of the guards’ circuits. The cameras called for a relatively low-tech solution: Instimatic photographs of the areas scanned by the cameras. With that out of the way, the electric eyes were easily evaded. Except for the roof-exhaust port, the duct system was only loosely attached to the roof of the building. Too much weight could send it all crashing down. The Viper used magnetic cups to attach herself to the metal supports in the roof until she came to a vent she could get through. Her infrared goggles revealed a 3D maze of laser beams that even a hummingbird would be hard-pressed to get through, which was especially tight around the more valuable artifacts. Her job was made more difficult by the odd smell in the room, which she guessed was the evaporation of various solvents or something, but whatever it was, it gave her a buzz that she had to fight hard to shake off long enough to concentrate on her task. Only creative mirror placement and a great deal of problem-solving using some of the reflective surfaces and refractive lenses situated around the room allowed her to create a hole in the defenses big enough to bring herself to the most valuable prize: the oldest known representation of Sekhmet herself, sheathed in gold and jewels, with a rather large pet snake wrapped around her. The Viper guessed from the lack of any furniture that touched the floor that the tiles were pressure-sensitive and set on a hair-trigger. So much as a spilled drop of sweat could sound the alarm. The chemicals were really starting to get to her. She could have sworn the snake was moving. The scales caught the light in intricate patterns, flashing in her eyes, reeling her senses. The snake’s head appeared before her, not a statue, but a machine built into a clever trap. The sensitive devices in its control unit had detected the electical impulses in Viper’s body. Now, as the scales and the psychotropic fumes in the room weakened her resistance, the snake’s eyes began their work, shifting colors according to the changing activity in The Viper’s brain, shifting them at a certain frequency, a frequency unique to Viper, designed to interfere with her alpha-waves and force them to alter themselves to a certain desired pattern. The Viper hung there, helplessly staring into the eyes of the snake, surrounded by the fake artifacts that had baited the trap.

Rosa Susana Manuela de Cordova, formerly known as The Viper, fondled her sensitive, new breasts. Two days of hormone treatments and herbal supplements had swelled them to C-cups, and they were still growing. John Sommer, the man who was responsible for her presence here, watched with obvious interest. He was as naked as she, and his erection stood out like a gun on a warship. He had asked her to see if she could come just from breast stimulation, and she was giving it an earnest effort. Each time her fingers brushed up against her nipples, it sent fiery sensations through her nerves to her crotch. She was close. So very close. John stepped forward to his writhing captive and bit her left nipple hard. She came, the sensation tearing a scream from her lips. She also experienced a let-down, her breasts spurting milk onto the floor from the right and into John’s mouth from the left. His eyes widened in surprise, and he began to suckle her. Rosa was coming continuously, her mind in a fog of pleasure. When the left breast had been drained, John moved to the right. She nearly passed out in ecstacy, and probably would have had John not finished off the contents of her other breast and let go.

“That was an unexpected treat.” he said, stroking her hair as he licked his lips.

“It was heaven.” Rosa whispered.

“Well, my ex-Viper, you’ve had your fun, now it’s my turn.”

“Yes, sir.” she replied, as John led her to the bed, pulling a pair of handcuffs from his suitcase. He cuffed her hands behind her back and draped her over the footboard. He brought his fingers to her dripping slit and took some of her moisture onto them, then gently spread it over his cockhead. He went back, putting some of her cream on his shaft. Several return trips had him well lubed enough for his purpose. She moaned as she felt the tip of his penis brush against her asshole. He slid in slowly, as her ass accomodated itself to the size of the object being inserted into it. She came twice before he was all the way in. She cried out as he began thrusting. Her tightness finished him off in no time, and Rosa cried out with another orgasm as she felt his steaming come shoot inside her. After sliding out of her, he turned her around.

“Now, I want you to clean me off and get me ready to do you again.” he said. Obediently, Rosa went to her knees, her hands still bound behind her. She sucked him until he was hard. His cock glistened with her saliva as she pulled back, and made a popping sound as it left her mouth. “Go wash your mouth out.” he commanded. Rosa nodded and padded into the bathroom, and spit the contents of her mouth into the toilet. She nuzzled the knob on the faucet with her nose until she got the water to run. She took the nozzle of the hand soap in her teeth and moved her head up and down, getting soap in her mouth. Then she took a sip of water from the tap, shook her head vigorously, and spit. She repeated this process several times, washing out the soap taste. John’s hard cock slid into her pussy. She moaned, her breath bubbling under the tap. She removed her face from the water stream to prevent herself from drowning as John did her from behind. Her hot twat clamped on his cock, milking him for all the pleasure he was worth. He didn’t last long after her orgasm, but it didn’t matter. “Now, Viper, I want you to suck on MY snake.”

“Yes, sir.” she said. She turned around and took his softening penis in her mouth for the second time that day. For an amateur, she was quite good, and had soon figured out how to suppress her gag reflex and take the eight inch cock down her throat. Her throat made swallowing motions due to the presence of the large object, bringing John even more pleasure. He reached down and savagely pinched one of Rosa’s nipples, and she managed to get a moan around the cock in her throat. John reached over to the flyswatter which hung on the wall. He smacked her ass with it, and she came. She came again as he smacked her ass a second time. Again and again he smacked her, driving her nearly insane with the pain/pleasure of the spanking. Finally he blasted a wad of come down her throat, which she managed to swallow without losing any.

“Now that I’ve had you in all three of your great holes, my dear, you are well and truly claimed.” John said, stroking Rosa’s hair.

“Yes, sir.” she replied, nuzzling his crotch. “I never thought I could be so happy being owned and controlled.”

“You’d be surprised how happy you can be.” John said.

“I’d like to find out.”

“You will, my dear.” John said, kissing her forehead. “Now that I know the obedience phase of your training is complete, I want you to lie down on the bed and prepare for the general knowledge phase. Then, when you’re done with that, I have some errands I want you to run for me.”

Sandra was bubbly, blonde and cute. She looked about six years younger than she really was. She worked as a janitor’s assistant at a major electronics firm. It gave her access to just about every room. She slipped a freshly-burned CDRW into her overlarge pockets. A CDRW which would soon contain enough classified trade secrets to pay off her car. She had just paid off her student loans and back taxes with the last two disks. She approached the large double doors leading to the central computer bank. She had been told that the new retinal scanner might have some difficulties at first, but if she just kept her eyes as wide as possible so the scanner could get her whole retina, it would be alright, and she would get in and start cleaning up.

She pressed her forehead against the plate. The scanner ran over her eyes, then flashed and buzzed. She stayed there, waiting for it to do it again, unaware that after the first scan, the plate’s padding had begun secreting psychotropics to weaken her resistance. After the fourth scan, it began to flash and change color, the colors and frequency reacting to her alpha wave patterns, changing them, remolding them—and her—into the desired pattern.

“My name is Rosa.” the young woman said. “I am here to pick up Sandra for John.”

“Ah, of course.” the security man said. “She’s still there, just staring into the scanner like one of Svengali’s victims.”

“Not quite so extreme, but she is changed, for sure.” Rosa said. “She will trouble your company no more. She works exclusively for John now.”

“So how about you? Are you one of John’s, um, ‘employees,’ too?”

“If you mean, does he control me, then the answer is yes.”

“You don’t look...you know, like her.”

“She is still undergoing alpha-wave revision.” Rosa replied. “It will take her some time to adjust to thinking on her own, according to her new mental guidelines, even after the ‘scanner’ has finished its work.”

Liza Skully liked to think of herself as the Mistress of the Outback. Her ebony skin allowed her to hide at night, the moonlight revealing only her all-seeing eyes—or she claimed they were all-seeing, anyway. Her hair was long, grown down to the middle of her back, kept straight by her weekly visit to the city, which always included a relaxer treatment at one of the salons there. In one hand she clutched the second of two keys, the first of which was held by the man who would be funding her next hundred and eight trips to the salon and putting her sister through college. A brilliant mind like hers shouldn’t be wasted.

She felt something brush against her, and quickly found herself wrapped in the coils of the biggest python she’d ever seen. She’d seen a crocodile that ate a boat once. This python could have eaten the croc whole. Something was weird. The python’s scales were prickly like sharkskin, and the creature smelled funny. Liza quickly felt herself getting a buzz. It wasn’t squeezing hard, in fact her breathing was uninhibited. It only held her pinned. One by one her muscles relaxed under the effect of something like a drug, she guessed. It was getting hard to think. The python’s head swung around until it was in her face, and she was fixated by its flashing, glowing, swirling eyes.

Shen Yin quickly covered her tracks through cyberspace, smiling as she did so. Taking a little at a time from a thousand gwailao investors a day had netted her quite a fortune, hidden away in foreign accounts that the Chinese government could not tax. She heard a knock at her door and was afraid it might be the secret police. She looked out the window. Only a black delivery girl. She opened the door and signed for the package. A note within the box said, in flawless Chinese, “You are needed. Put on the helmet to learn how.” She slipped the helmet on, wondering about the strange smell and guessing it was only some new kind of polymer adhesive that hadn’t been banned yet for being unhealthy. She searched it for a power switch or something. She touched something, but a prick in the finger was her only reward. The screen came to life soon, however. Colors swirled before her, dazzling her chemical-weakened mind. In twelve hours, the black delivery girl showed up again, this time to deliver Yin to her new employer.

“And don’t nobody move until the count of ten, or I’ll shoot you where you stand.” Esmeralda Cunningham said, pointing to the bank’s patrons and security personnel with her gun as she jumped into the fiery red sportscar with her two accomplices, Hilda Cunningham, her sister, who sported an array of black hair cut in sprightly fashion, like Krysta from Fern Gully, which contrasted with her pale, creamy skin and amber eyes, and Angelica Gutierrez, whose long, beautiful hair and gorgeous Mexican features had become the envy of the brown haired, brown eyed Esmeralda over the years of their association. The large bags of money they had stolen occupied most of the seat and floor space, so the girls didn’t bother buckling up. It wasn’t long before cops showed up. They were on the trio like stink on shit, as Hilda was so fond of saying, but Esmeralda was a dead-on shot, and shot out the left front tire of the approaching vehicle. Another cruiser showed up and she gave it the same treatment. She had enough bullets for every cruiser this little hick town could muster, if necessary.

From nowhere, four cruisers arrived, flanking their vehicle on all sides, even bumping against it so there was absolutely no room to maneuver. The flashing lights on the two cars on the sides swiveled around, and the lights changed, becoming a dazzling array of color that crowded out all thoughts except one.

Obey.

“Looks like I’ve got a full set.” John said, smiling at his kneeling, nude cadre of ex-thieves. “You’ve all responded well to your training. Obedience, general knowledge, obedience touch-up, sexual education, linguistics, cryptography, anatomy, medicine, loyalty, chemistry...You’ve gotten eighteen years’ worth of college education and graduate school in six weeks. The fine-tuning on your obedience factor has been especially rewarding.” He smiled, watching as their eager, hungry eyes and minds took everything in, while their left hands gently circled their slits. “Your bodies have adapted well to the figure-changing hormone treatments which also boosted your sex drive and made it more important for you to be obedient and loyal. The physical sector of your training has been equally successful. With alpha-wave induction of the fighting moves directly into those hungry minds of yours, the rest was strength-building and getting your muscles to do what your mind wanted them to do. Now I’ll bet you’re wondering what it all was for.”

“The thought had crossed our minds.” said the woman formerly known as The Viper, now rechristened Mamba. Her breasts were now D-cups, and required regular milking. She was looking rather full now, in fact. They all were.

“You were chosen because you had particular skills, skills which couldn’t be taught via alpha-wave induction.” John said. “You have been gathered together and trained to become an elite, covert squad whose purpose is to defend democracy and American interests worldwide. The sex-slave aspects of your training are to ensure complete and utter loyalty, unfaltering. You would lay down your lives if I told you to.”

“Yes, sir!” they responded.

“The name of your unit is Project: Sekhmet. You are the most lethal sex-toys in the world.”

“Sir, thank you, sir!”

“We report to know one, we answer to no one. In the field there may not be time to explain my reasons for giving certain commands, but rest assured they are good ones, always. You must obey without question. Understood?”

“Yes, sir!” they responded.

“Good girls.” The erotic pleasure which filled their minds at the sound of those words of praise was obvious in their eyes. “Now, my sexy soldiers, looks like those full titties of yours need some attention.”