The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

You got this far Jessica, you can’t stop now!

Far above the lonely alleyway stars twinkled and the moon cast down it’s haunting rays of pale light. Of course, that mattered little to the rushing woman beneath the heavens it all. Under her arm, Jessica held a bag so tight she feared it may burst open. An errant thought whispered to her that it should have been marked with a dollar sign. It would have been fitting enough, but buying one of those at a novelty store in Midas City was just begging for it.

The thought had been tempting though, she’d had to admit to herself.

Just five more blocks, five more blocks and you can run up those stairs, calmly waltz into your apartment, and no one will even look twice. Maybe you’ll finally be able to stop stealing purses and bumping into loaded women at the mall . . .

The moon shined over her bright golden hair like a spotlight, and with the way that it framed her face brightly was more than enough to earn her a little paranoia even beyond what she’d already been granted from the theft.

Each footfall either hit on hard concrete or in a slick puddle, and neither sound died off quickly enough for her tastes. It would just take a single one of them sounding too desperate for her to be caught and her life to be ruined, but she couldn’t afford to take her time and be given the gift of silence. This retreat needed to be completed in full, and then maybe could she’d let herself relax. After all, if in a city full of telepaths, psychics, and all other sorts of mystical weirdoes she’d been able to get away with petty theft after petty theft, there was no saying that she couldn’t get away with this.

Nothing, nothing besides the deep ache in her gut hinted at any result sans success. If she would have allowed herself the loss of momentum to glance behind her she would have seen that her pursuers had given up on their chase blocks ago. Her trail was obscured by the muck and filth that she’d ran through. Short of the Silver Sentry himself pointing his gaze at her, Jessica was home free.

Unlike all of those other crimes, this one felt bigger. The heavy gun in her right hand revealed that much. She’d never pulled the trigger and her tight gloves gave no fingerprints to the handle, but armed robbery was armed robbery all the same.

Whether it was her conscience, her intuition, or something deeper and greater than any of those things, some voice inside of her wouldn’t stop screaming that her luck would finally be running out—and soon. If she was caught it would only be the first offence, but what a nice first offence on her record. Not only that, Jessica thought between her heart beating so loudly it sounded like a waterfall in her ears, but I’m too pretty for jail.

Jessica wasn’t super model pretty, but she’d been around enough to know that she was worth more than just a glance. Her sapphire blue eyes shined in the dim light in a way that paintings envied, and her pale skin shined with a quality that screamed soft like no lotion could grant. The way her tight clothing clung to her curves that were just enough there, to the swell of her breasts and the curve of her ass—that didn’t hurt either.

Just two more blocks. Just two. After that, there’s a whole pint of ice cream waiting for you, thighs. And lungs, you’re used to this city air, hold out just a little longer!

Ahead of her, the blonde thief could see the light cast by the lamps of her building’s entrance. A faint glimpse of that light filled her with hope, and ignoring her usually good sense to glance in the alcove between the block she was on and the next, she entirely missed the figure in the shadows.

As much as her eyes might have missed the visual, her foot could not ignore the outstretched leg that at the last moment snared her and sent her falling straight towards the hard ground. She didn’t fall for long, and let out a loud scream of shock as an arm hooked itself around her body and pulled her back just as her nose was about to hit the pavement. If she’d had breath left other than the panting she would have screamed again, but her lungs failed her and what little of her was thinking anything but panic was thankful she wasn’t passing out.

Jessica’s bag fell to the ground, and the gun soon after as she was hoisted up against the stranger. If she’d been used to the weapons unusual weight in her hand she might have been able to clutch it tighter, maybe use it to frighten off whoever was grappling her, but that thought had never arose.

Once Jessica’s mind finally caught up with the hold, her arms had already been pulled behind her and pressed firmly against her back. Thoughts raced through her mind, and none of them good. Street thugs didn’t use holds that you could see in movies, and they certainly didn’t stop you from getting a concussion. If Jessica was lucky, this was an undercover police officer hiding out in this alleyway for some reason that escaped her reasoning. No other possibility that came to mind sounded any better, and a good deal sounded worse.

When her attacker’s hand rose up in front of her face closed in a fist, she knew this was no police officer. The hand was wearing a glove, the sort of glove that came up and only actually covered the knuckle of the wearer’s middle finger, and that place was marked by a tarnished but still oddly shining silver ring. A similar bracelet clasped around the wrist. The glove itself was black, but glittered as if each little square inch was covered with stardust.

Jessica was dealing with a super.

She’d heard rumors of some street gangs in nastier parts of town dressing up as packs of supers, frightening pedestrians with imagined powers, but never had she heard of them displaying actual prowess outside of the usual thug antics. Smashing windows and twirling chains hardly counted as super powers, and her neighborhood wasn’t that bad.

Time seemed frozen as Jessica tried to struggle in the hold, only to feel herself pulled closer against the stranger. The question that pounded almost louder than her heart was a very simple one. Hero, or villain? Was she going to be marched off to the police, or be raped and robbed of her own ill gotten cash?

Finally Jessica’s voice returned, and she almost began to speak before the hand moved just perfectly enough in front of her to shine the moon right into her eyes with those dark silver bands. It was so abrupt her eyes couldn’t adapt, and her whole body tensed. Something but it was disorienting, piercing, more than moonlight reflected off of poorly cared for jewelry should have been. It was as if the hand, the . . .

The woman’s hand . . . knew just how to aim the light. It had taken her long enough to realize it, but she could forgive herself this once.

With all she’d heard of on the news, the fact that the one who’d caught her was a woman didn’t really come as much of a surprise. If anything, it only made her try to struggle more but her body was exhausted and oxygen deprived.

Just as she was about to speak again the woman behind hers voice slid right into her ear and she silenced herself on instinct. It was a smooth voice, sensual and yet firm. It was just the sort of voice that a woman wearing a glamorous glove like that should have had. “Now my cute little thief . . . I’d love to just let you pick up that bag and give the contents back to their rightful owner, but even I’m not silly enough to think you’d do that. But, I’m willing to make you a little bet.

“When I let go of you, if you still want to run along home with your loot, you can. If you don’t, you’ll march right on over to the closest police station and turn yourself in . . . Sound fair?”

Jessica could hardly believe it! This woman, this loon with exotic clothing, actually thought she could make Jessica turn herself in! For once, Jessica thought, insanity is working for me and not against me! I should always be so lucky!

It took her several moments to realize that the woman wasn’t joking, and a couple more attempts at struggling before she finally acquiesced and ceased her struggling. In the movies whenever the poor caught thief would try to struggle, the catcher would always punish them with some blow to the gut, but her captor simply held her firm. There seemed no thought in the woman behind her to retract her deal even if Jessica had tried to prematurely flee. She was confident enough to not need to inflict physical pain.

The blonde was honestly not sure if that frightened her less, or more.

“I accept . . .” She regretted saying it a moment after the words left her lips, but it had seemed the only choice. It was definitely the only rational choice.

“Good . . .” The smooth voice of Jessica’s newest acquaintance at her ear sounded pleased, and it gained a quality to it that sent involuntary shivers down the helpless thief’s spine. Women had never tempted Jessica, but there was something primal in her reaction to the voice. Her body wasn’t reacting to a woman, it was reacting to a voice that screamed that it knew just what she needed and even if she would scream out denials, the moisture between her thighs spoke to the contrary. “So, ready for the rules of this silly little game?”

Jessica’s head bobbed as she stared to the hand in front of her, trying not to squirm closer to the warmth behind her and the sweet feeling of those lips. Focusing on the meaning and not the voice was her only choice, so she nodded again hastily a moment later. “Of course, let’s get this over with . . .”

Her voice was still fighting against the constant panting, but slowly that was leveling out. The sheer ridiculousness of the woman’s deal was strangely comforting. If she was a psychic, Jessica knew she would already be obeying her every whim. This woman didn’t seem like she was playing with her food. She seemed like she wanted to play some silly game of morality.

If the thief had known anything, it was that morals only got in one’s way. She’d flushed her cricket a long time ago, and when it’s ghost had come back she’d dealt it a hasty banishing. This game was already hers.

Slowly, the bare, long fingers in front of her uncoiled, and a flash of silver hit Jessica’s eyes again. It didn’t hurt so much as before, and in fact was oddly enticing. A long chain had fallen from the woman’s hand, and at the end was a heavy silver teardrop. Unlike the rest of the woman’s jewelry, this one piece seemed to be clean and without a hint of tarnish.

That must mean that she actually means to be wearing that dirty silver ring with it’s matching bracelet. How tacky! Jessica almost laughed before the chain slowly rose up in front of her, leaving the teardrop square between her eyes.

It seemed to catch all of the light from around them both, yet didn’t hurt to gaze into. Small imperfections tainted the otherwise beautiful necklace, but they all only seemed to accentuate the dim light. Whoever had crafted it had either been a miracle worker, a genius, or lucky. Jessica guessed the later, and also guessed that it had still cost the woman behind her more money than was in the bag only feet away.

When the woman’s sultry voice rang out again it startled Jessica, but only ever so briefly. Something about the perfect tone of that voice made it hard to feel too worried. It was trustworthy, and it was . . . delicious. “The only rule, is that you have to watch my pretty pendant, and listen to everything I have to say. If you do that, I’ll let you go, and you can do whatever you feel compelled to do. The pendant is just ordinary silver, and the chain is too. There’s nothing magical about my voice. You can believe that or not, but those are the rules of the game . . .”

Ever so slowly, the teardrop had began to swing. Jessica wasn’t sure if it had started before or as the woman had began, but it seemed to swing perfectly with the rising, hauntingly smooth quality of her voice. It was as if every shine from it’s silver surface, and every movement from the chain it was anchored to coincided perfectly with a word or a feeling in the woman’s voice. Something in that felt frightening, but mostly, it just felt peaceful.

“Still interested . . .?” Oh, she hadn’t agreed. The thought of verbally agreeing hadn’t seemed necessary, after all, all she had to do was just relax and let the time go by. That was certainly easy enough, relaxing seemed something that she had no choice in doing or not. The way that pendant moved, glittered, shined, showing just a faint bit of her own reflection, showing her own very vaguely hooded eyes . . .

Jessica nodded, and the voice spoke again, speaking in a much smoother, sweet tone that seemed so pleased, and despite herself pleasing someone in a position of authority was a good feeling that even the thief was not immune to.

“Good . . . Keep your eyes on the pretty silver tear drop . . . isn’t it funny how that shape is a teardrop? Tears aren’t shaped like that . . . But they do catch the light in the same way. And it does feel the same to watch, strange, oddly soothing, but whether you want to admit it or not some part of you is enjoying it, and letting itself relax . . .”

Finally, the blonde realized why this seemed so very silly to her. Her “captor” was some wannabe hypnotist! Hypnosis couldn’t make someone do something they didn’t want to do, and Jessica sure as hell didn’t want to turn herself in. Let this silly girl who wanted to be a super heroine hypnotize her, it would just let her relax before walking home and melting into her favorite chair.

“That’s right . . . Just relax. I can feel your body relaxing, and that’s a good thing. Just because your held that doesn’t mean you can’t relax . . .

“In fact, being held, you can relax even more. Nowhere is safer than in someone else’s hold . . . No place has less responsibility, less worry . . . Everything is on my shoulders, after all. All you need to do is just watch the pretty, shiny pendant and think about how silly this all is. Really, I won’t argue with the notion. Some silly woman is holding you in some self defense class grip, and swinging a silver pendant in front of your face . . . What’s not to find amusing about that? Really, laugh, I’m sure it’ll help you relax, and this is all about letting you relax . . .”

She laughed, and the woman was right! She did feel more relaxed! Either she really knew what she was doing, or that was a lucky guess. For being a joke, this wannabe heroine (maybe anti-heroine was a better label?) sure as hell could get inside of her head. Maybe it wasn’t safe to let her in, but it was already too late to back out now. She already felt so relaxed, and more than she cared to admit the tone of that woman’s voice was doing things between her thighs that she hadn’t felt in . . . far too long.

Was it the way she was speaking, or the subtle press of the woman’s leg between her own? She’d been so distracted by the gleaming pendant that no memory existed of that leg finding it’s way there . . . but there it was, and pressing just right up against her. It felt warm through the crotch of her jeans, or maybe she was the one feeling warm, warm and wet . . .

But the woman’s voice wasn’t talking about that at all, so it was harder to pay attention to. A part of Jessica worried that it might not just be a mundane little trinket. It was a silly part, and quickly quieted. If it was magic, you’d already be kneeling . . . Yeesh, even she admitted this was silly . . .

Swing, swing . . . swing . . . It matched her voice, and her leg now. “Relaxing means feeling warm, feeling safe, feeling calm . . . And feeling calm means not worrying about any silly bet . . . It means not worrying about intentions, or about methods . . . It means just letting your eyes melt, letting your body move just the way it wants to as everything unimportant fades away, every feeling that isn’t letting you feel more and more relaxed .. . Like the pendant . . . my voice . . .”

The voice hesitated, but only for a moment. It was just moment enough to make Jessica gasp for air pleadingly. The hesitation begged for the void to be filled, it begged so very purposefully, and the woman knew it. She drew it out just like she drew out the slow motion of her leg, the tender grinding . . .

“And my leg.”

Right when her voice hit that word, leg, that word that seemed better than all of the others, the woman’s leg pressed harder, tighter against her, grinding that wet heat just right. It was almost better than fingers, better than a tongue, better than her favorite toy being shoved so deep . . . It was just the touch she needed, the touch she wanted, the touch she craved.

Jessica’s voice tried to scream, but it came out as a whisper. Her thighs clenched tightly around the other woman’s leg ass she grinded harder in counterpoint. This wasn’t about needing a woman, this was about needing to focus on what made her feel relaxed, on what made her feel warm and good.

It didn’t occur that doing what her voice said wasn’t a part of the game. Her words were right. Relaxing was about focusing on what felt good, and god, did that feel good.

“Oh, I think if we keep focusing on that you’re going to ruin those jeans . . . That’s okay, because it feels good, and it’s not hurting anyone . . . Not you, not me . . . And it is relaxing . . . You know, the hotter and wetter I feel you get against me, the more I can feel you getting limper .. .? You haven’t tried to struggle at all . . . Because you haven’t wanted to . . . You haven’t wanted to at all . . . You’ve just wanted to feel more of my knee . . . More of how I can make you feel . . .”

Ruining her jeans was no longer a question of if, it was fact. If the light wasn’t so captivatingly held by that swinging pendant, her eyes would have already closed so she could lose herself more in the feeling of that leg, but it felt good enough even with her eyes open. Moment by moment it kept feeling better, and she was right, didn’t want to struggle, just wanted. . .

More . . .

“Of course, this is all about you . . . You’re not doing what I want . . . You’re doing what you want. You’re relaxing . . . You’re feeling better, and better . . . You get to keep feeling so warm it almost feels like you could burn through your clothing just to feel the bare flesh of my leg underneath . . . I bet you’d like that . . . To feel my flesh against yours . . . You’d probably love that . . . It would be . . . so relaxing . . .”

Relaxing, relaxing was all that Jessica wanted to do. More relaxing sounded perfect! More relaxing sounded . . . “Plea . . .” Her voice stopped, and for a moment she struggled. This wasn’t right! She was getting fucked in an alleyway by some crazy woman with a pretty pendant, but it was all she wanted, all she wanted was . . . To relax and . . . “Please!”

The voice almost seemed to laugh, as the pendant continued to move, the light continuing to glitter, and the whole world continued to feel as if it was just being sucked away . . .

“Oh, but we can’t do that, not here, not out in the open . . . Who knows who could see? And besides, it’s more the thought that’s relaxing . . . Just like it’s more about my voice than about any other sound . . . Your own panting? Your own moaning? None of that matters . . . Not even the actual wet friction against my leg . . . What you want, is my voice . . .”

Jessica knew this wasn’t safe any more, this woman, this wasn’t some thing she would agree to . . . But knowing that didn’t matter. Knowing anything didn’t matter. The only thing she knew that meant anything to her was that she wanted that voice. That voice was the shining light in her life, in her mind, in her heart . . .

“The shining light . . . The shining thing that makes all other things worthwhile . . .” Oh, had the woman said that or had Jessica thought it? It was so hard to . . . “Tell, and it’s really not worth it . . . No, it’s not . . . It’s more worth it to listen, to melt . . . To whisper, just faintly . . . . For more . . .

“Knowing that when you do, you’re not begging the pendant . . .” A wet sound broke through the voice for just a moment, and maybe her own moan, but it wasn’t enough to even jar the blonde from her trance, “You’re not begging anything besides my voice, for anything besides the privilege to lose yourself . . . The gift of obedience . . . To do whatever my voice commands, knowing that you’ll get to hear more . . . Knowing that there’s nothing you could refuse my voice . . . Say it . . . Your lips are already forming the words . . .”

No longer did it matter to Jessica that her hands had been released so that the woman’s other hand could slide around to open up the front of her pants and caress just above where her leg grinded. No matter did the bet matter. What mattered was the word. The one word she needed to say, needed to . . . “More . . .!”

“Of course sweetie . . . Now close your eyes . . . And let me think for you for awhile . . .”

Jessica’s eyes slid shut, and the rest of the world truly melted away as did all of her thoughts. In front of her the pendant was pulled away, and the hand at her thighs pulled away to clasp the silver chain around the woman’s pale neck.

“Kneel . . .”

Without thought, Jessica’s body moved to obey. Thoughts were actions, and Jessica knew that, even thoughtless and obedient as she was.

Finally her captor relaxed, and stepped slowly around to in front of her delicious “victim.” Clicks resonated as she moved from black boots that clung to well formed calves. Above, bare thighs tensed with the knowledge of how the woman in front of her must have felt. Faintly higher was the leotard that was colored a very similar shade as the ring on each of her middle fingers were. It shined just the same, but was no less dark for it and in it’s own way resembled the gloves and clung just as tightly to her taut body as her gloves did to her arms. At her waist a tight silver belt, gleaming just as the necklace did at her revealed cleavage did, held tight and looked covered with small pouches in a way that screamed plagiarism. The look was all topped off with a small black mask that only covered up the area directly surrounding the woman’s deep brown eyes. Strands of black hair fell loosely in front of her smooth face, the rest of it hanging behind her neck in a loose ponytail.

Slowly she leaned closer, resisting the urge to allow her bare fingers to roam over her shining leotard, and moved so her lips were again beside the woman’s ear. “Now . . . This, is what I want you to do for me, my sweet little larcenist . . .”

Jessica’s eyes slowly fluttered open, and she groaned on instinct at the feeling of waking up laying flat against the ground. She wasn’t in any puddles, but she was definitely not in the woman’s grip, or kneeling. It was all a blur though, she just remembered being tripped, a deal, and a pendant . . .

The deal stood out most of all, almost as much as the voice that spoke from above her.

“Now, I’m going to let you go. Do whatever your lawless little heart desires, and maybe if you’re a good girl, you’ll get out early for good behavior.” The woman’s voice dug deep inside of Jessica and made her moan, and her hands almost began to reach between her sore thighs . . .

Slowly, past the fatigue and the arousal, the thief managed to push herself to her feet and glance up at the woman that stood above her. The sight was impressive—Jessica had seen supers before but never one so beautiful, or one that smiled in such a warm, soft, gentle way after having proved their heroic point. Jessica almost wanted to throw herself at her feet, but only because she knew this woman could cure the ache she felt, not from anything put in her head.

The fact that she even thought that puzzled her, and she pushed it away.

Pearl green eyes looked at the bag of money, the gun on the ground inches beside her right hand, and then the heroine looming above her. In no time at all, the woman hopped up to her feet and grabbed up the bag. Clutched tightly against her chest, it seemed obvious that she’d won . . .

And she had! She was going to start a new life! She would return the money, and she would turn herself in. She would do her best to comply, to make everything go smoothly and easily as possible . . . Because then she would hear the voice whisper to her, every night for the rest of her life, and that would make the pain she might endure seem negligible.

This woman had done so much more than set Jessica on a better path, she’d granted her a chance to feel the very light of joy shine down upon her, to let her know she’d been forgiven.

“I . . . I don’t even know your name . . .”

Smiling, the woman rose up her hand and wiggled the fingers in a cute wave before motioning her off. “Patina.”

As the woman turned and jumped up to grasp a hold of a nearby fire escape, Jessica knew she had just heard the most beautiful name she would ever hear. “Patina . . .”

Jessica left to do what she knew she had to do, and with no hesitation, keeping that name close to her heart.