The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Beneath me, my loyal set of wheels roar. My mind is almost distracted by the sound, but its still so quiet compared to my purpose roaring loudly in my ears. Its not important. Nothing is important besides my purpose.

Mmmm my perfect, overwhelming purpose . . .

I turn, a hard left, and feel pleasure tighten around me and lace through my metal skin. I’m getting closer. The whys don’t matter, or they do matter but are all answered by the spiral swirling and twisting at the center of my existence.

The roaring quiets, and I dismount. My metal fingers slowly curl into a tight fist, and then slam through the door knob. Its the door to a jewelry store, so its not surprising that alarms sound. I ignore them as I throw open the broken door. So many stones! The image of my goal buns in my mind’s eye: an emerald in a rim of gold with a strange sigil resting within its facets.

Slowly my eyes scan the display cases. Emeralds, yes. Gold, yes. Sigil? Elusive.

Glass coats the floor. The sound feels like it should be satisfying, but each time its just another remember that I’ve failed to find it. I was supposed to hurry ? my owner stressed that. Police could be here any moment, and she doesn’t want them catching me in the act. Even a glance might spoil her plans.

Finally! I hold up another emerald, and quiver. The sigil! I can feel my knees quake as I fight to contain the pleasure. If I didn’t I think I would fall to my knees. Ouroboros, the serpent devouring its own tail, signals my victory. All that remains now is delivery, and the closeness of my owner.

I shove the emerald into my jacket, and head back out for my bike. My mind shifts, clearing away all but the path ahead of me. The spiral in my mind twists and spins around me, and I can feel it caressing the most tender parts of my thoughts. It makes them feel weaker, simpler, and controlled. I am The Spiral’s pawn. There is no deeper, or sweeter truth.

Sighing in ecstasy I exit the ruined store. Damn it, I wasn’t fast enough. I can feel my heart clenching tight in my chest. It hurts to disappoint Mistress. I miss the carefree arousal.

“Stop right there!” An even more horrific buzz kill ? better company then police have managed to show up. Supers. A blonde woman dressed in white stands in front of another three woman. None of them look especially threatening. “Drop whatever it is you stole, and we can have this go a lot easier. No one has to get hurt, miss. . .”

I can tell she’s asking for my name. Instead of answering her question, I laugh. My name is only for that Spiral, a last thing of mine for me to keep, just so something of mine can be given again and again.

I feel my purpose uncoiling anew, twisting and spinning in a new delicious way. The Spiral knows what I should do . . . I can’t have them following me. They have to be . . . incapacitated. Not killed, just out of our way.

One of the women behind her is dressed all in black, one looks absolutely rediculous with flowers in her hair, and the third looks more like a model dressed in a blue outfit so revealing it borders on parody. None of them look familiar, except . . . the blonde. Not familiar in the way that I’ve ever seen her before, but something about a heroine wearing all white, so eye catching—especially in the middle of the night . . .

Without a word I run full speed at their leader. She deftly spins out of my way, and I take the opportunity to tackle the girl behind her. She has flowers in her hair, and looks more like she should be hugging a tree than fighting crime.

A fine mist hisses over me from the flowers in her hair, but all it does is feel a little tingly. She starts to yell out something that sounds like “immune” but the sound is cut short as I pour my current inside of her. Pure dominance sizzles through my body into hers, drawing out the most helpless moans I’ve ever heard. She shakes like a leaf the wind, and the sight of her gaze glazing and becoming more and more lost makes me shudder with her.

Already I can feel her will melt away, struggles for thought so pitifully and quickly ended. She’ll enjoy a little time blissed out, and I know it makes my owner happy. That matters so much more than anything else. I cut off the current, and she melts back limp, open, lost . . . and the lady in blue moves into my view. Before I can react her first slams into my face, and I fall onto my back. I might not be invulnerable, but I am made of metal. She is definitely dangerous.

I jump up to my feet and look around quickly, noticing the blonde starting to fish something out of her belt. The girl in blue kneels down to check on her fallen friend, and the woman in black, a trench coat over a dress, slowly reaches up and lowers her sunglasses down her nose. Her eyes set on mine in a very purposeful way. I take a stance to rush her next, staring back into her eyes.

“You’re pretty tough. Nice trick you pulled on Flower Child. What do they call you . . . Sparkle?” She smirks, and narrows her eye in an intensely focused way. I don’t know how, but the act of her narrowing makes her eyes easier to see, and even in the dark I can perfectly make out her dark brown eyes, and even see each intricate detail inside of them. I can see the rim of her pupils so easily, and my eyes naturally trace around them, almost as if on track.

Something about her gaze feels so strangely . . . familiar . . . and almost as if she we were standing nose to nose, while still being the few feet away from each other that we are.

“No.”

Why would I bother to give her an answer? It doesn’t serve my purpose, but it feels infinitely important, just like letting my eyes trail around hers at least another three times. I need to keep looking, deep. I feel like something in my eyes is being grasped, tugged, pulled . . . making my whole body feel tighter and drawing to those eyes. It feels so exciting, enticing, sexy . . . it’s almost as if her eyes are leashing me, and tugging me toward her while keeping me frozen inside of myself.

“No, I wouldn’t guess so. You look a little tough for that. Look, that is. Not are. Taking down the plant lady isn’t much of an accomplishment. One out of four? That’s a failing grade.” Her voice sounds like it’s echoing, and as she speaks, the world gets . . . darker. The world, but not her eyes. “Think of this as suspension and detention rolled up into one. You’re feeling it by now, aren’t you?”

Her hold on my eyes makes me nod as she does. More and ore of my vision turns spotted with black, and then fades, but still not her. She’s vibrant, colorful, bright . . . even her black jacket, and the black of her pupils looks bright compared to the shadows shrinking my vision.

Something strange starts pressing against me, inside of me . . . feeling like pressure in my ears. It’s almost like. .. voices. I can just barely make out what they are, but they more feel like static on the radio over the sexiest song. It even makes my purpose shudder.

“Quiet, Hope. I’m not hurting you, am I my metallic maiden?” My head moves side to side in a “no” motion as she does the same. I’m so helpless to her. I can hear her “no” echo inside of my head that feels otherwise so hollow in the most perfect way. All I can perceive is her, and I adore how that feels.

She moves closer, and I arch. She’s so powerful. Can’t think beyond her. Everything is so dark, so cold, lost in such deep thick shadow, but she makes me warm. She makes me shudder. Goddess, I love to shudder.

She reaches out, and holds my cheeks in her hands. Brown eyes. All I am, was made to lose myself in those beautiful brown eyes. Brown, like amber hardening around my eyes, round my every thought . . . She’s holding me so tight, so tenderly, slick . . . dreamy.

It feels like her gaze is pushing through the middle of the spiral in my mind, penetrating right through the hole its carved into me and taking possession of my thoughts. I can feel movement inside of my mind, things being pushed, things being pulled, and a feeling that is only describable as whispers that feel like unintelligible sweet nothings.

Its almost like I can feel her sweet talking my tired mind before fucking it raw. Such a perfect thought, and the only one I can muster with that strong gaze pushing through mine.

“Sleep sweet, and dream of me.” Her lips press to me, and the last of me fades to black as my eyes close.

“Wakey wakey, metal babe.” My head is pounding. It feels like it was emptied out, refilled, emptied, then filled till it started leaking. Ow. This is worse than my dust hangover. Mom flushed my other baggie, right? “Earth to shiny chick, you there?”

I groan, mostly to shut up whatever woman is talking. I’m in a little too much pain right now to know what to say. My eyes don’t want to open. Where the hell am I?

“Well you didn’t kill her, but are you sure you left her marbles intact too?” A second woman’s voice calls out accusingly at the first. My eyes feel so sore. I’m not sure I’ll see much more than bright fuzz if I even bother trying to force them open. “I swear, Vision . . You need to be more careful.”

“Tell it to Flower. If I hadn’t tunneled her, I don’t think you could have stopped her. Psiona knocked her back, but then she knelt down to check on Flower. Psiona would have been next, and I don’t think any of your toys stood much of a chance either. I did what I had to do, and you know it.” The first voice again. The second time I’ve heard it, and already I’ve decided I don’t like it. Something about her feels snotty and rubs me the wrong way. I’m not sure why, but I know it does.

Pallas, my head fucking hurts.

A sigh rings out from the second voice. “I know, I know . . . I just hate hurting people, Tunnel Vision. I don’t dress up every night to hurt the bad guys. I do it to protect the innocent. If she’s not okay . . .”

“I’m alive, if only barely. My head feels like someone shoved a fire hose in my ear.” I try to sit up, but several straps hold me back. I don’t feel that much like getting up anyway. They feel like fabric, and I’m betting I could tear them loose, but that hardly seems polite. The pressure feeling so insignificant also makes me realize she called me metal babe and shiny chick. Why am I metallic? “Any chance you could tell me what the hell is going on? One minute I’m . . . relaxing in a bath tub, and the next my eyes are burning and I’m strapped down to some table. Not what I consider normal, or a very relaxing evening”

I guess this is my first real glimpse of mom’s life.

“Your doing?” The second voice again. I think I like her already.

“The eye ache? Probably. You know that happens sometimes. The headache? Blame whoever left that spiral behind in her head.” First voice, Tunnel Vision I guess, sighs dramatically. “Tunneling that out hurt me too, but I did it. Show some appreciation Hope.”

Hope . . . it sounds like a fitting name so far. Even her voice resonates with it. Wherever I am, her being here helps me feel a little calmer. That, and my difficulty waking up.

“Basically, we found you robbing a jewelry store, and we stopped you from making a quick getaway on that sweet bike of yours. You did something to Flower Child, but Psiona and I stopped you from doing much of it. I went in your head while stopping you and found that someone left you a present that was twisting your mind, so I tore it out. That’s probably also why your memory is missing a moment or two.” How concise, and . . . lovely. “Sorry you’re sore. Whoever did that wrapped it tight, and there wasn’t a lot I could do.

I almost fire back something sharp and pointy, but then I remember that mom described Mystic fixing her head was rather painful, too. “Don’t mention it . . . Why am I tied down?”

“Just because you only committed a robbery due to mental influences doesn’t mean you’re safe. Plus, we weren’t sure that Vision had gotten all of that spiral out of your head.” Hope sounds a lot calmer now, and that makes me feel better. Gah! I feel so young and stupid. “Also, we’re a little worried about Flower.”

I really wish I could remember what happened, but from what Vision said I’m guessing that I might never remember. At least this time it was someone else’s impulse control and not mine.

Unless whoever went into my head is really dangerous then besides hurting her physically I doubt I had much time to do anything at all. “If you mean something happened to her after I did my imitation of a meta light bulb, she’ll be fine. Maybe out of it for awhile, maybe feeling a little bit of a tingly electric current, but nothing bad. It takes a lot of juice for that to have any affect on it’s own. It’s a lot gentler than whatever got in my head. At least, it is when I use it. I don’t have a lot of practice. Sorry, really . . .”

My eyes still burn, but I can finally force them open. Yikes, it’s fucking bright as hell even with my eyes sheathed in metal. Mom’s gift to stare into the sun only ever works for me only when my eyes are metallic, but its not working now. Maybe everything isn’t bright, so much as just white. I’ll need to learn just how Vision’s abilities work.

Flower Child should be okay. Even if I whispered something into her ear, I doubt they gave me enough time to get away with anything that would actually be able to hurt her. She’ll be okay, and if she’s not . . . I’ll call mom. She’ll be able to help, and I can’t let my pride get another heroine hurt.

“Not your fault, really. You had as much control of your actions as a narcoleptic on a water bed.” Vision might be all right after all. “I’m really sorry about your eye ache. My powers sometimes over stimulate the nerves. Your eyes felt kinda strange . . . but yeah, no, not your fault”

I flutter my eyes more, and smile as the world starts to come into focus. “Not your fault either . . . and hey, I can see again! A white ceiling, huh? Very classy.”

We all share a laugh. It feels nice to laugh, and like the first normal thing that’s happened.

“Well, as you’ve probably guessed, I’m Hope.” The blonde standing over me wiggles her fingers. Her eyes . . . they look so much like Sylvia’s. I know it’s probably my metal’s fault, but their color looks just the same as the purple half of Sylvia’s. Her eyes are probably blue, but my heart flutters anyway. So similar . .. She’s half tanned in an occasional beach trip sort of way that makes her golden hair stand out even more.

Of course a woman calling herself Hope would wear white.

“And I’m Tunnel Vision. While we’d love to just let you go and all, is there any chance you could tell us who you are first? Hope here would be happy to unstrap you and ask questions late, but I’d rather know who you are first.” I hadn’t even thought of that, but she really has a good point.

I squirm a little more before looking up at Tunnel Vision. She’s wearing fancy designer shades over her eyes, which for some reason makes me feel safer. Long black hair falls over her long black trench coat that hangs loosely over her slender frame, and slutty not-so-long black dress.

The two don’t look precisely like polar opposites, even if the details are very different. Hope’s eyes are surrounded by a white mask a lot like Aunt Yana’s old Patina mask ? just surrounding her eyes with the parts just above and below her pupils curving inward. It looks more inviting than the shades, but they hide nearly as much.

So close to meeting my aunt, and I meet a real power group. Mom told me she’d always wanted to form one, but having a partner was the next best thing . . . even if Olivia always demanded sidekick status.

“My name’s Electrum and I’m kinda new to this whole heroine thing, so if you’ve never heard of me before . . .” It feels lame as hell to say, but it’s true. “I’m from Midas City. I came all the way out here to meet some family, and maybe learn a little about my mother.” They don’t need to know specifics, or the details I’m carefully avoiding at least not yet. I still answered with more than Vision asked.

Hope steps away, and I can hear he sound of keyboard clicks. “Midas City . . . Wait, you were the one who busted up The Syndicate’s attempt to find some work near Midas, weren’t you?”

“The Syndicate? What syndicate? I stopped a bunch of well armed women in a motel near Midas, and broke up a bank robbery just yesterday. I was staying at a hotel when I got spiraled.” Syndicate? Looks like I’m making connections already, and I’ve also already managed to piss some powerful people off. Great. I wasn’t even settled in, and now . . .

Wonderful. Mom loved to tell me to hope for boring patrols and unrelated events, noting that no one starts out with an arch nemesis for good reason. I know they’re out of my league, even if my powers are impressive.

High school diplomas do not qualify you to take on an established crime ring. Now I see why Mom suggested maybe spending a couple of years in MCU before hitting the rooftops.

More clicking sounds come from Hope’s direction as Vision walks away, and I can hear the door open in front of her, and then close behind her. Damn it, I’m just not good enough at forcing conversations, and my mind is going mile a minute. It took mom five years to catch Chronos’ eye. Maybe she wasn’t ready, but more ready than I am after a week!

It’s sobering how much different it is to lose time than how it sounds. It’s just . . . not there. They said I tackled a woman I can’t even remember ever seeing before.

“Electrum . . . Midas City . . . And you said your mother is from up here?” Hope sounds almost suspicious, but more . . . hopeful.

“. . . Yeah. The rest of my family is in Coredelia and Midas. I’ve been told I have more in Italy somewhere.” I don’t even know what to call Witch World, and I was kind of hoping to keep my identity a little bit longer than a week.

“You’re Aurora LaSilvas . . . aren’t you?” Her voice sounds almost excited. “You are! Wow . . . The daughter of Silver Girl and Aureus! So you are following in their footsteps after all.”

Sighing, I nod. Still, this isn’t horrible. She’s one of the good gals, and what’s important is keeping the identities secret from normal people and villains. As long a I can melt off my metal and be Aurora, that’s fine, even if sometimes I need to use Whitner instead of LaSilvas just to be safe.

Can I really pull off a secret identity? Mom always stressed it’s importance, if only to protect normal friends from super villains and to be able to take vacations. I’d rather just be open about it, but at least for now . . . with The Syndicate after a least Electrum, if not Aurora too . . .

“Don’t worry, it’s not obvious. If you hadn’t said Midas and I didn’t happen to be a big fan of your mothers . . .” Heels click on tile, getting closer and closer, and then the straps pull away from me and withdraw into the table. “You could have broken those, I bet. Thanks for not doing that. They don’t do a lot against stronger people, but it can give us a moment to react.”

“Yeah, I could have . . . but this table is kinda comfy, and you’ve been petty great to me so far. Especially nice to me, considering that we met with the lovely act of me tackling one of your friends. I’d appreciate it if you could keep my identity quiet? I have family nearby, and well . . . I’d like to be able to be normal sometimes.” I smile weakly up at her as I sit up, stretching my arms up over my had. “You understand, right?”

Hope nods, and leans against the table. Her smile grows warmer, seeming almost nurturing. “You bet, Electrum. Hope isn’t exactly my name either. Look . . . I might be presumptuous . . . but The Syndicate is already after you, you’re new to the area, and you look a little overwhelmed. If you’d like, I’d be happy to take you under my wing, make you a part of the group . . .”

“You want me to be your sidekick?” The way she’s leaning toward me, the way she’s smiling . . . it makes me feel so amazingly warm inside. Having a mentor like Hope . . . I think even mom would approve.

“Maybe, when we get to know each other better. But for now, well . . . I just want to be your friend.” Only Hope could make just wanting to be my friend sound like the chance of a lifetime. Damn it, I’m grinning like an idiot, but she just smiles more. “Sound good to you?”

I think I could spend hors answering her, so I force myself to stay concise.

“Hell yes!”