The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The truck screeched to a hard stop.

Nick looked up. Took you long enough. He let his cigarette fall to the ground, and snuffed it out with his foot. Cold droplets of rain greeted him as he made his first few steps out of the warehouse.

Standing by the truck, he watched as the driver disembarked.

“How’s the haul?” Nick asked.

The driver grimaced. “Not good. Only five this time round, chief. The news’ got everyone all tensed up, my boys are scared.”

Nick scoffed. “What, of the cape?”

“We all joined up after the Purge, we’ve never faced one before,” the driver said. “And this cape’s...freaky, boss…I hear she brands people.”

“Bullshit. And you don’t needa worry. Everyone knows she’s gunning for the guys up top. We’re small fry to her. Get your shit together.”

The driver nodded. “Yeah, sure thing, chief.” He turned to look at his truck. “You...you still want today’s catch?”

“’Course I do. The hell do I pay you for?”

The driver hastily nodded. He led Nick to the back of the truck, nodding to his three other associates to open the door.

Muffled moans emerged as the truck doors screeched open, revealing five women. All five of them were bound uncomfortably in tight nylon ropes, whimpering through their ballgags. Their eyes were a dull pink in the dim lighting of the truck, their bodies squirming sensually in their drugged haze.

Nick let out a low whistle. “Damn. They’ll fetch a fine profit. Where’dya get them?”

“Down the ol’ forty-two. Those rich bitches never saw it coming.”

Nick frowned. “District forty-two? Ain’t that where…” He looked up at the driver, his heart skipping a beat. “You fucking idiot.”

“What?”

“Jones hit that area last night! That cape’s probably watching it like a damn hawk.”

A sound of glass shattering above him was heard, before the street was plunged into darkness.

“Fuck!”

Nick grimaced. He whirled around, pulling out his revolver and scanning the rooftops of the buildings carefully. Around him, the three armed goons began checking their own weapons as the driver threw his head around, panicked. “Oh shit, oh shit…”

Nick heard movement behind him, before gunshots rattled out in the darkness, briefly illuminating one of the men. “Show yourself, bitch!”

A loud grunt, and everything was silent.

Nick trained his revolver there. He threw a quick look behind him, his gaze jumping to the faint light peeking out beneath the warehouse’s door. I can make it, he reassured himself, ignoring a second cry of pain behind him as he broke into a sprint.

The sound of bones cracking sent a chill down his spine. Nick swallowed hard, desperately ignoring that sound as he neared the door.

His fingers clenched around the door handle, throwing it open, welcoming the warm embrace of the light. It illuminated the region, revealing two unconscious goons on the ground. The driver was to the left, slumped over near his truck. To the right, the third surviving goon looked over at him. Nick saw a sudden movement.

“Behind you!”

Too late. Nick watched as an elbow slammed into Adam’s head, sending him reeling to the ground. Nick looked back up, instinctively locking his aim at the target that emerged.

The female figure turned to look at him. She was dressed in a silver and black uniform, her eyes still visible under a dark silver mask, bright red lipstick standing out from the rest of her costume. Her brown hair was tied up tightly into a bun. She was heaving, her bosom rising and falling as she held a baton tightly in her hand.

“Freeze, bitch.” Nick sneered, his past fear evaporating as he finally confronted the ghost. He knew he had the advantage, and he allowed himself to eye her body appreciatively. She’d make a fine slave, alright...“Turn around slowly, let me see that cute ass…”

She glared at him through her mask, her brown eyes increasingly visible as he came closer.

“You deaf, bitch? Turn around, or I shoot that pretty head off.”

Still glaring, her eyes dropped as she turned around slowly.

Nick smiled, walking closer. Her ass was toned as hell, especially in the tight costume she wore. “Kneel.”

She nodded, slowly bending her knees.

Nick walked closer, his muzzle pointed at the vigilante’s head. Oh, all the things I’m gonna do to you…

She was so close, the muzzle just about to touch her head. The vigilante’s head shot to the left.

He fired instinctively. The shot went wide.

Nick looked down, seeing her gloved hands tightly gripping his right wrist. He wanted to react—

She brought his arm down on her shoulder, the crack of his right elbow reaching his ears before the stabbing pain shot through him. Nick screamed. An elbow shot into his gut, he stumbled back. The vigilante whirled around, grabbing him by the collar. Nick grunted as he felt the hard impact of the wall behind him.

“What did you do to the women?” Her voice was soft yet serious.

Nick struggled helplessly, his fractured elbow screaming for attention. He grimaced. “Like I’d tell you anything, bitch.”

She let go of him, letting him fall to the ground upright. She grabbed his head roughly to face hers, leaning in close. He met her eyes, and felt a faint tingling in his mind. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way, asshole.” she whispered.

He spat at her.

The vigilante flinched, her face slowly twisting in anger as the globule of spit rolled down her freckled cheek. “The hard way it is.” Her brown eyes glowed white…

Nick found himself on a dirty brown floor. He was in a dilapidated alleyway, with upended trash cans scattered around the place, and dim, flickering street lamps. The vigilante! He scrambled to his feet, turning around to face her. “Where the fuck am I?”

“Welcome to the inside of your head.” she said. “Or what I like to call...enhanced interrogation.”

He gripped his throbbing arm as he steadied himself, circling the vigilante slowly. “If my arm ain’t broken...”

“It’s your imagination. Your arm is as broken as you want it to be.”

Nick stopped, feeling his arm. The pain was gone. He looked back up at her, seeing opportunity arise. He snarled, hurling himself at her.

She shimmered, allowing Nick to tumble through her body as if her body was nothing but air.

“You can’t hurt me here.” she smiled, before her face darkened. “But I can.”

She turned around, grabbing him by his arm. Her grip tightened, further, further, and further

He tried to summon the invisible power that healed his arm earlier. It doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t—

“Sorry, I misspoke. Your arm is as broken as I want it to be.” Her voice echoed through his mind and he screamed, feeling every stabbing spark of pain from his shattering elbow.

Laughter echoed around him. “You’re pretty stubborn, Nick. Let’s see how far you’ll go...”

Nick felt himself slam into the ground before he was roughly pulled up.

“No...No!” he screamed, throwing his head back in fear, as she gripped his uninjured arm and started twisting. Horrid sounds began emerging as another scream was wrenched from his lips.

“STOP,” he wailed. “Stop. Stop. Please.”

He felt her release his arm, and he fell face-first into the ground. She casually rolled him on his back with her foot, daintily placing a hand over his face before everything went white.

Nick found himself back in front of her again, the pain in his arms nothing but a horrifying memory. He never thought how relieved he’d be to have one broken arm, but that was much better than...whatever the fuck that bitch put him through.

“So, Nick.” The vigilante’s voice was at her normal soft volume. “Ready to try again?”