The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Vengeance, Thy Name Is

Ch 6 — The Final Test.

A week passed without any more incidents. Claudia now had the full measure of her unit, know what they had suffered through and what they brought to the table. The memory of seeing Wanda dead inside but alive outside was painful, but it didn’t burn with the raw horror of descending into the pit like Brenna and Cynthia had, or the blind rage that had kept Rhonda going. Still, she was bound and determined to make sure she would never feel what it was like to be controlled. Another movie night passed, and this time only Cynthia went down. A visit by a charmer did nothing. A trip to a jazz club to see three different sirens left them all half-deaf, but no other effects lingered. Even as the challenges got harder and harder and the bar was raised further and further, Claudia would not break.

Anna came in one day, resigned and ready to assign the final test. “Shit, you girls are something else. We have people in the kitchen bidding for your first assignment. They seem impressed with your unit cohesion and your ability to shake off some shit. We have one last test for you. Make it through and ship out next thing. If not, there’s no line. It’s either kill or be killed, just like the real world. We’ll give you a second chance once you make it out of the pink room, but you better be on your game. I don’t know what they’ve done this week, but people have been raving about the obstacle course this time. When that happens, even I don’t want to know what’s in store,” Anna said with a chuckle as they loaded up into the van for the final test.

It left them off at another entrance to the main complex. The room had six labeled doors. “Pick a door. Doesn’t really matter which one. Each has a different path that has it all. Lights, cameras, action, subliminals, drugs, every kind of shit you can imagine and some shit that you can’t. You enter as yourself, but either way you’re gonna leave a changed woman,” Anna said, and everyone scrambled around to pick a door. Claudia stood in front of number 5, and though there was no signal, they opened at the same time. The chase was on as soon as the door closed behind Claudia. She saw the shining camera mounted just where she’d be looking if she was the kind to look back, and she ducked away. A hissing noise warned her that the entry chamber was filling with gas, and she covered her nose and ran forward through another door into what looked like a mirror maze.

“Seven years bad luck is worse than seven minutes being a whore,” she growled, pulling out her gun and unloading into the mirrors until she found a clear path to the exit. She stepped carefully around the floor littered with broken glass and went through the doorway into what she knew was a photo booth. “Brenna’s dying laughing if she has this,” she said as she hit the button, blinked off a few of the flashes just to prove that she could, then smashed the light with the butt end of her gun. The door opened, and she braced herself as it revealed what looked to be a pink room girl’s fantasy of a department store.

An assault of different and steadily more intoxicating perfumes began to take effect as the girls sprayed more and more of the mind numbing scents in Claudia’s face. She felt herself freezing and breathing deeply of the different concoctions, but when her mind started to falter, her body recovered with a sneezing fit that jolted her awake and into the clothing section. When she looked over her shoulder for pursuit she saw how close she had been to sitting in the makeover chair to literally get all dolled up. To prove she could, she inspected the various sparkling tops, tight pants, glistening belts, and other garments being displayed on the mannequins- no, she realized, not mannequins, tranced out girls who’d been ordered to hold their position for who knew how long.

“See anything you like?” the overly busty saleswoman said with a plastic smile.

“Nothing in my size. Or yours,” Claudia replied, noticing her eyes gong straight for the woman’s oversized breasts in their tight black sweater.

“Ah, how about these, then?”

“Those can not be real.”

“Oh, they’re real, and they’re mesmerizing,” the saleswoman replied, lifting off the shirt to show them in their full glory, E-cups at least, spilling out of a sparkling bra. Claudia couldn’t resist the sight, and she could feel her head growing heavy and her crotch getting warm as the saleswoman recited an induction she could barely hear.

“Are you sure they’re real?” Claudia said in a slurred tone, the last of her resistance coming to the fore.

“Touch them and find out,” the saleswoman purred. Claudia raised a hand, then punched the woman square in her massage cleavage, breaking the lock on her brain and sending the woman backwards into one of the mannequin girls, who was startled awake with a shriek. Both of them stumbled around, into the clothing racks, which careened all over the room.

Claudia chuckled as she ran, but not long when she realized how close she had come to falling victim to a booby bird. “They’d never let me hear the end of it if someone like you got me!” she taunted before going through the next door. Masked men brandished unfamiliar weapons, and she readied herself for hand-to-hand combat. The first one pulled out a cell phone and aimed it at her. A beam shot out of the front, boring into her brain and trying to turn it into mush, but Claudia ducked and hit the man with a leg whip. Next she felt an all too familiar burning in the back of her neck and threw the would-be nerve holder over her shoulder and to the ground. A third one came straight at her, and she twisted his arm behind his back before throwing him into the wall. Finally, the last man lunged with a long rod that hit Claudia straight across both breasts. The shockwave that followed was beyond anything Claudia had ever imagined, not even the time she got drunk with Wanda and got into a five-person orgy in a limo- and the fact that she allowed herself to remember that warned Claudia that she was in huge trouble. She tried every trick she knew to deflect the lust that was consuming her, but every sharp jab of her legs together and every slap to the back of her head just made he want it more. When she could fight no longer, she collapsed to the floor, and her last conscious action was a weak grab at her pants.

“Hehe, like, she could be a total beauty. Like, we totally need to make her a rap princess. Ya know, like Foxy Brown or something? I bet she’d like, totally go nuts on the pole like that,” someone chattered, but all Cluadia could do was smile and slip inot a daydream of being a hip hop dancer. Rap moguls are rich. They never grow tired of fresh pussy, she thought idly as the blonde in the pink outfit brought over a maekup case the size of a large suitcase.

“Like, me me me, I see strip girl like her before! She need toonie boots and short dress!” the Asian flower drum song girl next to the blonde chirped.

“Like, that is so Japan! Hey, I know! Let’s make her into a token black chick? You know, dress her up all street like she’s from the hood on the outside, but inside, she’s just like us!” the blonde exclaimed. Something clicked in Claudia’s brain at the mention of Japan, but it was lost in the pink fog that made her excited at being like the nice cool girls she was with. “I dunno! Like, what do you think?” the blonde asked her.

“Like, I’d totally love hair like yours!” Claudia giggled back.

“Like, we totally have to take you to the salon, then! And then we totally need to give you a little present. Straight or rabbit?”

“I like bunnies! They’re so cute!” Claudia replied, and the other girls giggled at the stupidity of the response.

“What you buzz with?” the Asian asked with a roll of her eyes.

“Oh, anything pink,” Claudia said. “I really don’t care, you know?”

“I think we have a keeper here,” the blonde said to a brunette who had just skipped into the room.

“Well, she does have those gorgeous bright eyes, so cute and glassy and empty like a little puppy. We can totally keep her. We’ll take her to the salon, get a full mani and pedi, and God, get her some sparkly makeup so she doesn’t look so black!” the brunette said with a tease her pink micro mini skirt.

“Hey!” Claudia said weakly, mustering up enough will to protest about the racist crack.

“Ooopsie! She do that. She no like different ‘cept when different touch her pussy,” the Asian said with a wink and a stick out of her tongue. Claudia responded with a deep kiss. “Oh, blackie girl wanna play pussycat!” She jumped up and down delightedly, showing off her nearly non-existent panties more times than Claudia could count.

“Like, isn’t the term Afro-American?”

“Nahh, that’s for girls with poofy hair. Like, that happened to me once. I totally tried to blow dry in the shower,” the brunette said with a giggle.

But Claudia was finally capable of adding one and one and getting two, and she realized that despite all her work, she’d ended up in the pink room- and that the three girls before her were working on making her a bimbo like them. She didn’t even want to guess what she was wearing, but she could tell it included stripper heels and about five square inches of fabric.

“Pretty girl wakey!” the Asian cried out in alarm.

“Oh, then she’s totally gotta read this magazine! I mean, the shot of Brad Pitt in here? Five seconds, and you’re stroking your clit, max!” the blonde said, handing Claudia a heavily perfumed magazine that made her head float, but not enough to keep her from awakening. As she blinked and tried to stand in the stripper heels, Claudia looked around and saw the beds full of other girls either asleep, having sex, or looking brain dead, with girls helping them out in all three cases. She turned to face the brunette, fire in her eyes, and the brunette took a nimble step back. “Okay, she’s up. Monica, Wendy, stand down. Name, rank and serial number, miss.”

The giddy stupidity was gone from the brunette’s voice and bearing, and Claudia matched her. “Claudia Marion, Elite Unit 1.”

“Holy shit,” the blonde mumbled.

“And we even got her to make a rabbit joke... holy shit,” the Asian echoed, her accent disappearing.

“Thought you’d never taste me? Hope you enjoyed it, because you’ll never taste me again,” Claudia taunted.

“You... don’t know what hit you, do you? You woke up after only twenty hours. And twelve of those, you were actually asleep. You only put out once,” the blonde explained.

“You got wrenched, full power, to the breasts. That’s fatal three-quarters of the time. Fatal as in going to cookie school. You didn’t make it a day in here, despite being so out you tried to hump the teddy bears. And you were sent to the extended stay area. Yeah, we give you hints to see if you wake up or end up like us, but we don’t make it easy. We were victims, but we’re close to going home- if we want to.” The brunette saluted. “Deirdre Marshall, and it was a pleasure and an honor having you service me.”

Claudia was tempted to pat her on the head, because she was so cute in her earnest desire to be a woman of wealth and taste, but decided that might be a bad idea and instead stumbled out towards the exit. She saw other pink clad survivors from other units in the parking lot, blushingly telling their stories to workers and getting rides back to their units. Claudia stuck her hand out and prepared to do the same, but then remembered Brenna’s message and started tottering northwards towards the road that looked most familiar.

“I appreciate old school, but short skirts and high heels have no place in a thunderstorm. And your makeup will run,” a familiar voice said as the black limo puled up alongside Claudia.

“Colonel Marion,” Claudia said coldly, essaying a salute that almost knocked her off balance.

“It’s always Uncle Bill to you, but I appreciate the respect. You’re more like your grandfather than your father. You’re the only one we’d trust to figure out what that damned weapon we lifted off the overall rapists did. I thought we lost you, but you shook it off in less than a day. And I thought my dad was lying when he said he was the only man to get a blowjob from Marilyn Monroe without getting his mind blown,” Bill said with a smile as Claudia got in.

“Biggest damn vibrator in the world, Colonel,” Claudia reported.

“Don’t worry, you gave us the details while you were under, and we got tape to back that up. You’re ready to ship out any day now. We had to get you under to see how you could get out. You were exposed to expert controllers and the nastiest weapons made. We were about ready to resort to zombie powder, but that has more permanent side effects, and would defeat the purpose.”

“So you hit me with a weapon you knew was one of the deadliest without knowing what effect it would have on me?” Claudia asked, enraged.

“We had some idea of what it would do. We wanted to see if you could handle it. Didn’t work too well if you barely even got your nails done.”

“You could have killed me! Worse than killed! And where would your precious elite unit be then?”

“But we knew you wouldn’t let that happen. Sergeant McMichael told us about your pathological fear and loathing of the pink room. We knew you would fight that with every breath in you. But you proved natural resistance beyond fathom, which we didn’t know about. We knew your grandfather had it, but half the time we thought he was bragging. I guess it runs in the family, but...”

“The way you need to convince the rest of them that I have a sister, I think it skipped them,” Claudia said sadly.

“Well, that’s true. But you’re the toughest person we’ve had in a dog’s age. We have your tools lined up. I hand-picked this unit as soon as I realized Wanda was gone. I would have led it myself if you hadn’t volunteered. You have muscle in Rhonda, a deep cover agent in Gianna, ordnance and support from Brenna, encyclopedic knowledge of techniques from Cheryl, and Cynthia’s planning and organization. Elite 1 is a name we haven’t had reason to use in twenty years. Do your grandfather proud.”

They arrived at camp, and Bill opened the door. With an evil smile, he said, “Oh, you do have to walk at least a hundred yards in those shoes. Gives you a little more sympathy for the victim and less for the devil, and keeps you from shooting a victim who may be acting like a controller.”

Claudia glared at him, but stumbled out of the limo and staggered to the door. Brenna caught her as soon as she arrived. “You made it!”

“That’s some badass shit. The overall bitches... I thought they were an urban legend, but cheerleader- hey, hey, easy, Brenna, put that thing down! Brenna said she saw them in the flesh once,” Rhonda said, ducking as Brenna pulled out a pistol from somewhere on her person.

“This means we can finally leave, right?” Gianna asked, reaching for her suitcase.

“Calm down, we’re not done here yet,” Anna ordered. To Claudia, she said, “I was starting to think the colonel just wanted you dead so you could be at peace with your sister. Marions are that crazy. He tell you that your grandfather used to go to bars just to have staring matches with vampires just to prove he could?”

“Would not be surprised,” Claudia said with a smile.

“Yeah, okay, if you can take a wrench, you’re good,” Cheryl admitted.

“So want our first mission to be your brother?”

“Hell no. Did that years ago. That’s how I broke out. I just don’t tell anyone. I wasn’t keen on losing my virginity to my brother, no matter how out of it I was, so I let Fifi take my place, and, well, that bitch bites. No, really, Rottweiler/Doberman mix. She’s a real bitch,” Cheryl said with a giggle that was more in Brenna’s vein.

Claudia swallowed hard. “So you left him with no means to celebrate his accomplishments?”

“Yep. But I have the best eye for controllers out there. I just tell people he’s still active to look more badass. Using him as a milk boner is anti-climactic, but hey, I was only seventeen at the time.”

“Coulda used a friend like that as well,” Brenna said with a devious smile.

“All right, girls, you have one last test before you can truly become elite!” Anna interrupted with a bellow.

“What?! I took a goddamn wrench to the tits for this group!” Claudia squawked.

“Yeah, but can you avoid crying at your graduation?” Anna asked with a broad smile.

“As long as I’m not dressed like this, we should be okay.”

“Full dress uniform. And no, it’s not a leather catsuit. We don’t work for the Brits.”

“Ladies, gentlemen, honored guests, it is my pleasure and privilege to announce that Elite Unit 1 has been reactivated,” the general declared to the auditorium full of people in white uniforms, receiving thunderous applause at that announcement and the announcement of each name that followed. “It will consist of Captains Brenna Howard, Gianna Lucatelli, Cheryl McGee, Cynthia Webber, and Rhonda Wilson, and bed led by Major Claudia Marion.”

“Couldn’t have done it without you, Anna,” Claudia said, hugging her mentor.

“Pink room’s had more of an effect on you than we thought,” Anna said gruffly. “The part that should scare the shit out of anyone who crosses you is that you could have done it without me. Woulda been a longer trip, though.”

“You say the sweetest things.”

“So when you say get it to take home, are you talking about dinner, or are you talking about yourself?” the young man says at the bar to the Italian girl in the little black dress, who’s squirming so hard to keep control of her arousal that she nearly falls off the stool. Her eyes are growing glassier with every second as she stares at him, drinking up his pickup lines like they’re the only words she can hear.

The bartender in the babydoll t-shirt leans in between them. “It depends. Trivia question. Who killed the Kennedys?” she asks, her eyes on a table in the back as she toys with a butcher knife.

“Who killed- you guys? What the fuck? Seriously. Shit, I’m just a nobody. Just a hockey goon turned booster turned salesman one-night-stander. Fuck, I let the girls do their fantasies before I get into what I wanna do to them. I’ve been doing this for three years, no complaints, no babies, not even a marriage proposal, and only one clinger for even as much as a week. I work the road as a trade show sales man- yeah, I work for a living. I steal nothing, I keep nothing- why are you coming after me?” the man protests, raising his arms in surrender- or at last as much as he can, as the left one only goes up halfway before he lowers it with a hiss of pain.

“Your form isn’t bad, Avery, but you might not want your girl messy before you take her to your room,” Gianna says, shaking awake.

“Um, thanks?” Avery replies, scratching his head.

The rest of Elite 1 comes up to join them. “There a problem here? Oh, right, guy can’t use his left hand so he has to get the real thing,” Rhonda says with a playful slap of Avery’s left arm which leaves him in agony.

“How did you- shit, did one of the girls lie about her age? I’m sorry, Ill send her to college- and no, not my alma mater, I’m cute, not stupid, and-”

“Son, shut your mouth before you find yourself any more trouble,” Brenna drawls.

“We just want the course guide, Avery, not the graduates. At least not yet. We have our target, but we need to know who’s coming out of your MCM major, that’s all. Then you can get back to talking some girl out of her pants and into yours. But really, Durex? I know the economy’s bad, but spring for some Trojans, okay?” Claudia said with an evil grin.

Avery hesitated, then indicated a staircase that led to the rooms upstairs. He led the way, and Claudia and her unit followed him. As she came up to his shoulder, she said softly, but in a way that sent chills down his spine, “By the way, pleased to meet you... hope you guessed our names.”