The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The hospital isn’t far. That’s what Sinthiya said . . . Even though this druggy is still working, making everything so green, I still feel miserably lonely. My top is in tatters, all of my clothes are soaked through with sweat, and people keep giving me icky looks.

Every breath still feels a little forced, but the green assures me through warm feelings that I’ll be okay long enough to accomplish my task. That’s the only thing that really matters right now.

There’s a big fancy hospital that supers are allowed to crash at if something goes awry during a patrol or mission or something, but I can’t go there, not anymore. Not that I ever used to go there before, but I’m not one of them anymore, I’m just . . . just a whore whose clients don’t even want her back for a second time around . . .

It hurts, but it hurts more to dwell on it, so I try not to. The green is all I need to dwell on, it’s all I need to focus on, really is, so nice, so green, so . . .

The ground gets a lot closer and I don’t even realize it, still trying to walk to my goal and ending up crawling. It’s slow, and people are calling out to me, but I can’t think of a thing to say. I keep my eyes closed—don’t want to get in trouble for my extra special vitamins . . .

Need my life to be free, not locked away, even if I don’t want to be free . . .

In a short while I realize I can barely move at all, and there are arms lifting me up, pulling me into somewhere dark, like an alleyway or something. A voice is whispering, speaking, such a pretty, feminine voice, but I can barely even hear her at all . . . She’s so far away . . . “Your heart, this isn’t . . . this isn’t a good sign! I need to get you to the hospital right away . . .!”

“Thank . . . you . . .” Slowly I open up my eyes, and try to look up to the voice. She makes a gasp as my eyes open, and her own pretty, pretty purple ones look right back into mine. Purple eyes . . . they look so beautiful, so exotic . . . “Pretty . . .”

“Shh . . . Save your strength . . . Just relax, and let me take care of you . . .” The pretty woman’s eyes almost seem to glow, maybe just sparkle in a pretty way, and I can feel her hand resting on my chest. Not on either of my breasts, right in the center, right over my heart. The weirdest feeling oozes into me, like soothing, calming mist slowly finding its way into my heart, slowing it down, helping it relax . . .

My eyes hood and I try to press closer against her appreciatively. That is how a whore says thank you . . . “Mmm . . . Okay . . . ”

The strange misty feeling doesn’t go away or stop, feeling like it’s twisting and curving it’s way through my veins, soothing all of my body starting with my heart and spreading out. When it finally reaches my head I feel . . . not quite light headed, but not very solid either, airy, half floaty, melty, in a sweet way. My rescuer just smiles down at me and I smile back, wishing that she could be there filling me with mist forever and ever . . .

“Close your eyes now . . . Please. You need to rest . . .” She sounds so much calmer than before, and that coaxes me to sigh before letting my eyes shut without even trying to nuzzle against her even though I want to ever so badly. She seems to sense it, and holds me tighter, though carefully, hand stroking softly over my hair.

If she’d seen me crawling all silvery, I wonder if that would have made her rush to me quicker, or slower. She has pretty purple hair too, sweet pale skin, purple hair, purple eyes . . . Not very normal, but very pretty . . .

I yawn and sigh as the mistyness feels like it envelops and fills me all at the same time, just melting into her warmth. “Nighty night . . .” I’m not sure if it’s me or her who says it, but I know I’m the one who falls asleep . . .

Starchy.

Bright.

White.

I’m enough used to waking up in situations like this, especially with some sort of mental hangover—and especially smelling of sex, sweat, and desperation. By this point, I really should just get someone to program some sort of answering machine into my brain for when I first wake up asking their name, the time, and the reason why I’m precisely where I am.

My body feels a million times better, and it was likely that woman’s mist that helped. I still feel tired and like I could just melt through the hospital bed, but not sore. Slowly scanning over the room I note that this isn’t the same hospital Jade took me to with a happy sigh of relief.

The walls are a different color, there’s no T.V. up in the corner, and all of the various supplies look a lot cheaper. It’s not so much that they look cheap, but the hospital I was at last time had looked beyond high tech by comparison. I did end up being kicked out on the street in a dirty neighborhood, so it’s not terribly surprising. As long as there are doctors even half as good as that woman who saved me, I’m sure that I’ll be just fine.

Of course, there’s a big threat to Midas City that I need to do something about. Sin’s gang has those drugs, and the police have been compromised. Just telling the authorities won’t get anything done . . . I need to take care of this myself, as inept as I seem to be when the chips are down.

Whatever it was that helped me get away from Yanta may not ever kick in a second time. Jade doesn’t have her eyes out for me anymore . . . My cell phone was in my jacket last I knew—Sin and Lisa didn’t decide to take it.

Chronos isn’t going to send out Dust or Pink or Silhouette to find the stray agent anymore. The police won’t be able to help . . .

I’d rather just be having witch troubles. Those have felt atrocious so far, but I seem to get past those alive and cognizant. If I had my sparks back, this would be a million times easier, I could do this for sure, no doubt at all. . .

Mystic’s advice is starting to sound better and better. What good can I do anyway? It’s not just as if this is just some pitiful little normal endeavor that super powers would help with. This is the sort of thing that takes that just to break even. It’s not safe in Midas anymore. Sin may or may not spread the word that I’m powerless, and if she does . . .

“You’re awake! I’m glad, I was very worried. The nurse told me that you were still asleep, I was just coming to check on you for my own sake. You were in horrible shape when I found you.” In the doorway stands my savior, my angel with purple hair, smiling serenely . . . dressed all in shades of white.

The odds of running into a doctor when needing medical help doesn’t seem all that high to me, even if I was heading to a hospital. Of course it’s no less outlandish odds than Jade being there when Caress found me on that rooftop . . .

I smile up at her tiredly and raise a hand to wave, and then notice the needle sticking out of it with a gasp. I’ve never had an I.V. before, and I never ever wanted to. I must be worse off than I thought to wake up with a needle sticking out of me without even realizing it. “Yeah . . . I’m awake . . . I don’t know how to thank you enough, doctor. You probably saved my life . . . Can you take out the needle now?”

She smiles back and slowly steps closer, walking purposefully over to the equipment I’m hooked up to. I’m feeling utterly unobservant, but between being lost in my own thoughts, and having an angel as my doctor, I’m allowed to not notice those little sticky electro-thingies that are attached to me in a few places like they were when I first woke up after seeing The Lady.

“No, I’m sorry. You need to stay hooked up for awhile longer, but you’ll be okay. Frankly . . . I’ll admit to being surprised, but you will be okay.” Her voice sounds sweet, almost playful, so I only feel happy and nor offended like I probably would otherwise.

For just a moment a voice in my head says she could be a fake doctor who just hauled me away to some movie set to play with me, that’s just the paranoia talking.

I’m sure of it.

“What do you mean being surprised? Being surprised I’ll be okay? Is whatever’s wrong with me really that bad Doctor . . . uhm . . . Well, you don’t suppose I could have a name? you must have mine.” Even trying to smile in a non flirty way that sounds like a pick up, but I just . . . It’s so hard not to want to be close to an angel.

“Well . . . It’s very, very complicated. This hospital doesn’t have all of the proper equipment for me to do the best explanation, so you’ll have to bare with me. And my name is Valerie Raine. You can call me Valerie, Val, Doctor Raine, whatever makes you feel most comfortable that at all relates to my name.” Her eyes almost seem to glow in a way that deserves some sort of humming sound, and I don’t realize the dreamy sigh I hear is my own until it’s already way too late.

“I’m sure you’ll do fine, Valerie. I’m no cardiologist so I don’t think I’d be able to tell about the equipment or if you were having an off day!” My cheeks hurt from smiling already, so I might not be quit e feeling as much better as I want to, but I try to ignore the feeling.

Val grins softly, in a way that makes her look young and just begging to be called a nickname. She must be twenty six, twenty seven . . . I can’t see her being very much older. “Well, I am a cardiologist, and I’d know.”

We share a laugh that actually helps me relax, and I just watch her as she steps over to the nearby wall and motions to a large poster of a heart. It’s not extremely detailed, obviously more of something for a bored patient waiting around to read than for a doctor to use as a teaching aide, but she manages to give it an air of credibility just by standing near it.

“Well, as you can see, this is an ordinary, healthy cross section of a heart. Your heart is not made of laminated paper and printer ink, of course.” Her bad joke makes her wince and me giggle, but Valerie’s pause is very brief.

“The heart is a very delicate muscle, and since you don’t look like a high school drop out I’m sure you know the lubbing, dubbing, and how blood flows and so forth on a vague level. Well, any small little thing that gets in there can tip a delicate balance for the worse, and anything that makes it harder for the blood to flow, the valves from properly controlling the flow of blood . . . is obviously a bad thing.”

Her facial expression turns from hopeful to nervous and worried, and that makes me feel very instantly uncomfortable. This must really be bad. Long explanations are never good when it comes to medical problems. I’ve always done my best to avoid doctors, they were always far too curious. Valerie doesn’t see m curious at all—she seems to know exactly what’s going on.

At the moment, I have no clue which extreme is worse, but delicate balances seem to be an important pattern at the moment.

“Well, in your heart . . . there is a very bizarre defect I’ve never even read about before. In your right atrium, you have two valves, a valve that is supposed to be there, and an extra, smaller valve. This extra valve takes up space, and ads friction, throwing off the current and rhythm of your heart.

“This space is just perfect for getting blood trapped, and causing ripples that while you may never notice them, would be absolutely horrible during any other already dangerous situations. Your heart has to work harder to pump the blood through, and your blood pressure will only continue to raise as your heart grows weaker and weaker from the added stress.

“This is an exponential threat. Your heart will need to be strong to compensate, but that compensation will only lead to possible tissue death, irrevocably throwing off the current of your heart and would add more or less a chunk of dead flesh where it’s needed least.

“Your blood could clot, and . . . well . . . I think I’ve given too many details and made this sound far too horrid. There are options . . . You can live a perfectly healthy life for many years to come. The biggest mystery is how you lived for so long without having this dealt with, Sarah. Your medical history didn’t show anything at all that would hint at something like this.”

By the time she finishes, I have a death grip on the sheets and my eyes are filled with panicked tears. The only thing that’s stopping me from screaming in disbelief and sobbing louder than she could possibly talk is fear of missing some small detail. There’s . . . this is awful! This is . . . it just has to do with the loss of my power!

When I was a kid doctors mentioned a harmless murmur, and that their stethoscopes were prone to acting up after seeing me . . . Whenever I would use my sparks I felt a warmth in my chest, and it used to feel like they flowed out of there before I used them enough that my whole body felt full of them . . .

Letting out a soft cry I tightly close my eyes. It’s so hard not to weakly sniffle, so I don‘t even try to hold it back. “What . . . what can you do, doctor . . .? Please, I just . . . I need to know!”

Before she speaks again, Valerie steps closer and grasps my hand, squeezing tight. I can almost swear I feel a faint twinge of that mist coursing through me again. My whole body feels ever so lightly limp, like a faint massage over the inside of my muscles, and I let out and involuntary mewl. “What’re you . . . doing? What you did before . . .?”

After I speak Val gasps and the misty feeling stops, but her hand doesn’t withdraw. “You’re still suffering faintly from the effects of the drug that you were loaded full of . . . I won’t even ask if you were willing, you have a nasty mark where the needle went in, I’m not an expert, but it doesn’t look self inflicted . . .”

I whimper and squeeze her hand tighter, slowly opening up my eyes. I don’t know if they’re still green, but I doubt it. I would be obeying her so much better, her soothing words would be easier to believe . . . My eyes are closed, and I’m not seeing green. “Please don’t lie to me . . .”

She stiffens but still doesn’t pull away. The misty feeling still doesn’t return, but I can feel that she’s afraid, and not of me. It doesn’t make me feel better. I want to try to soothe this angel, hold her, ell her it’s okay, that I understand this fear . . . but how would she believe me . . .?

“I’m not lying . . . The drug you were taking has hallucinogenic effects that can last for up to a twenty four period after a dose like you received . . . Often, when someone is injected with it and left to their own devices they will construct an elaborate fantasy to help them deal with the trauma they usually experience.

“Because of the . . . torn state of your clothing, the hospital checked and . . . There were no fluids, but you have bruising consistent with rough sexual activity . . .” Valerie squeezes my hand again and lightly presses some hair off of my sweaty forehead. It’s such a nurturing, loving touch, and I can almost feel some of that mist tingling in through my forehead, letting me grow relaxed, calm . . .

Maybe there is more of that drug in my system.

“I’m sorry I called you a liar . . .” I don’t know how, but however she relaxed me is good enough that it’s not hard to believe she’s telling the truth. I wanted the comfort of a super saving me, and her hair and eyes are so outlandish . . .

Her lips press to my forehead, and it’s not professional, but it does feel so soothing, and my body feels even more relaxed, and I hadn’t notice dhow tense I was feeling, but it all feels like it evaporated in an instant.

“It’s okay Sarah . . . I understand. Now, medical science has luckily advanced far enough that I can help you . . . The I.V. is currently thinning your blood, so that you don’t have to struggle so hard just to keep your body alive and you won’t get any nasty clots.” She keeps stroking my hair, and soothingly squeezing my hand. It feels so sweet, so gentle, so . . . loving.

I’ve only just met her, but I can feel a capacity for love in her so deep . . . A desperate part of me wants to pull her close and drown in this feeling, but I must still be drugged, and I don’t want to scare her. Instead I just sigh and look into her eyes like a happy drunk with melted eyes.

“That’s good Sarah, just let yourself relax . . . We’re going to help your blood thin, and you’re going to have to take special pills after your stay in the hospital is up, no matter what, to make sure you stay as good as we’re going to help you get. A new diet, too . . .

“You’re pretty healthy, but you’ll need to be very careful with yourself . . . There’s a possibility of surgery, and that would be the best option . . . We could give you a pace maker, cut out the extra valve . . . How does that sound?”

With a soft giggle I motion for her to come closer with my free hand, curling it in the “closer” motion, and when I can feel her ear close to my lips I sigh and whisper out in the sweetest voice I can. “Val . . . You could suggest anything to me right now, and it would sound perfect . . . Your voice, your touch . . . probably these drugs . . . Whatever you think is best . . . My amethyst eyed angel . . .”

Valerie makes a faint sound like a whimper, but doesn’t pull away, even when I reach out my tongue to gently caress her ear. Some part of me must still be a whore with no money to pay her doctor with besides pleasure . . . and Valerie deserves one hell of a tip . . .

“What’re you . . . Sarah . . . Miss LaSilvas . . .” Valerie’s ear shudders as my tongue doesn’t stop, and I lean up just enough to take a portion of her ear into my mouth to gentle suckle on, sliding my tongue across the sensitive flesh delicately.

“Shhh . . . Just relax doctor . . .” She quivers more as my voice blows cool air against the wet flesh of her ear. “Let me thank you . . . for saving me . . . My angel of healing . . .”

She tries to pull away again but a squeeze of her hand and a faint whimper makes her stay. It feels like an eternity of just kissing, licking, and faintly nibbling over her earlobe before I finally stop with a faint mewl. “Shift . . . so I can get to your neck . . . And . . . put your hand on my chest again, so I can hallucinate that mist again . . . It helps me feel better . . .”

At first it seems like she might finally pull away . . . but she doesn’t. Her hand reluctantly falls on my chest . . . before she pauses, her hand pulls back . . . and she adjusts something, and cool metal presses under the hospital given clothing onto the bare skin of my chest. “I want to hear your heart again . . . Even sick, it sounds so beautiful . . .”

I want to object, needing to feel that misty feeling so bad . . . but within moments I can feel it spreading through me, slowing me, making each kiss over her neck mean so much more as my body can barely move. I can feel it sizzling up into my scalp again, over my mind . . . Somehow, I can feel her reactions through it . . . it has to be the drugs. I can feel her body melt and clench just slightly with each kiss, each faint scrape of my teeth as she leans closer and the metal warms against my chest . . .

Lazily I raise up my free hand and stroke along her side, so soft even through the lab coat that isn’t half as stiff as it looks. I can feel the warmth of her body through it, the curve of her breast, her own quickened heartbeat, and the lovely sensation of her firmness yet delicate nature as her body writhes into my attempts to knead.

That misty feeling feels like it’s in my toes, making them curl . . . Swirling more through my mind, and I swear I can feel her own arousal, feel her nipple hardening in my mind as I rub over her breast with my hand . . . Minds linked through that mist . . .I can see why people take drugs to enhance experiences now . . .

An eternity of kissing and caressing, and that warmed metal finally pulling back . . . and Valerie pulls back with it. My eyes flutter open, and hers look glassy, pupils almost taking up all of her eyes. Her breath is quick, and maybe its the lingering mist -er, drugs- but I swear I can feel her heartbeat racing like a hamster on a very small wheel. Her lips part slowly, trying to form a word, trying to do something . . .

I arch up and press my lips to hers with a tender moan, and she kisses me back. The feeling is pure bliss, such soft, tender lips, delicious as Pink’s in a more normal way, a natural way . . . but with an exotic misty flavor, that I can feel flowing in through her kiss, through her hand as it falls to my chest, and seems to twist and squirm with each part of my irregular heartbeat.

Another eternity passes before she finally pulls back and I moan, feeling so full of mist, so tired, so turned on, and yet so just . . . melted. I feel so serene, and obedient in a different way. The mist sizzles through me, making me arch and shift but only in a melting way. I want to make her happy, I want to feel more, I . ..

Her voice is nearly inaudible when she whispers, and just the sound makes me quiver in places I thought I would never want to feel quiver again. “You rest now . . . I need to . . . examine more of your options . . .”

I mewl out an affirmative, too melted to know what else to say, and don’t even feel abandoned as she begins to feel the room, only warm, safe, full of mist . . . Real or hallucinatory, I feels so good . . .

Were the thin slivers of her irises glowing when she left . . .?