The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Lemme see, lemme see,” Hypnotic Heather muttered, looking through the thickest of the three volumes of The NYC Supervillain’s Handbook (4th Edition). “There’s gotta be something in here to cover this situation.”

The Gray Panthra for her part (and Heather decided that the gorgeous, statuesque woman with gray hair was doing her part just beautifully at the moment), was staring off into space. Her eyes were pure white, as if her pupils and irises had left her head to seek refuge elsewhere while their owner was taking a scenic trip through La-La Land. Drool ran from the corner of her mouth and she had an empty, meaningless smile on her lips. She’d been standing at attention for a good twenty minutes while her captor tried to find the relevant section about capturing a hero.

Heather had only been out as an S.V. three times so far. This last one was a scenario where Panthra was supposed to win, and she almost did, but Heather got in a lucky shot and ended up with Panthra totally hypnotized. She whispered instructions to the S.H. and told her to meet Heather here, then took off. Now she had the veteran Gray Panthra in her power and she wasn’t really sure what to do with her. She couldn’t find a thing in the handbook about a ‘holding the hero hostage’ procedure.

“Shit!” Hypnotic Heather snapped. She threw the heavy book across the room of the secret hideout and it skidded along the floor to land scant inches from the far wall. “I’ll make it up as I go.”

She debated picking the book up and trying again, but she wasn’t really in the mood. She also debated having the heavily hypnotized Gray Panthra get it for her, but she was still new at all of this. She wasn’t as sure of her hypnotic abilities as she wanted to be yet, and she didn’t really know what would and what wouldn’t snap the S.H. out of her spell. She’d probably have to ask the more experienced Black Mind about that, but he was a such a lecherous twit. Besides, guys really turned Heather off. The less she interacted with him, the better.

Hypnotic Heather looked at her torn fishnet stockings and wondered if she’d have to pay for a new pair or if the city did that. Maybe she paid up front and got reimbursed? Maybe The Gray Panthra had to pay for it since she was the one who tore them in the fight? Shit, she wished she had paid more attention to that part in orientation!

She looked around covetously at the dark room, filled with expensive-looking scientific equipment that flashed and winked impressively. She couldn’t wait until the city finished the paperwork and she got a hideout of her own. Even if it was a hole-in-the-wall, it would be hers and she could put up a Lady Gaga poster or something. (Stephanie was so hot!) This wasn’t her personal secret hideout, it was the headquarters of Criminal Element, the biggest S.V. group in the city. If she had her own place she could keep Panthra there as long as she wished. Not here. A tour group would be coming through on Thursday and the cleanup crew would find Panthra just standing there in a hypnotic stupor. She considered just taking Panthra to her apartment but her girlfriend, Sandy, would throw a hissy fit.

She looked at her reflection in some mirrored device created by Dan Borgus. (According to the “Property Of” plaque, it was an Imperfect Duplicate Reflector, whatever that meant. Turned off, it seemed to just be a mirror.) She liked the pink, thigh-high high-heeled boots. The pink dinner jacket was a little tight, as was the white vest with the scooped neckline that showed off her now impressive rack. Somehow it all worked. So did the equally-tight yellow bikini bottom. She didn’t like the extremely tall, fuzzy, pink top hat—it fell off too much in battle—but it looked cool according to the S.V.’s she’d met so far. Her long, straight hair was still blonde, but had suddenly gained pink streaks when she was shot full of Nietzsche Energy, so they went with that for the costume color scheme.(She had grown from a 34-B bra size to a 42-DDD thanks to that strange energy too.)

Her makeup wasn’t smudged from the fight and according to the city experts, it never would smudge. Or come off her face for that matter. Ever. Her face was painted snow white with blue stars that centered on her large eyes and really made them stand out. She turned away from her reflection quickly. She couldn’t look at her own eyes too long or she’d be hypnotized too. That happened two days after getting her powers and Sandy had found Heather staring at herself in the bathroom mirror for what must have been two hours.

She walked up to the much taller Gray Panthra and stood on her tiptoes. She looked hard into the other woman’s eyes. “What are you seeing?” she whispered, wondering what it was like to be hypnotized. She couldn’t remember when she’d woken up from her accidentally self-induced trance that time. No one ever remembered being under her spell, not even herself.

Suddenly, it was as if she was looking through Panthra’s eyes at herself. It was like looking in a convex mirror, with her face up-close. Her nose looked large and the sides of her face receded quickly. Her own image was tinted dark pink and she almost lost herself in the colored bands that seemed to emanate from her pupils.

“Whoa!” she said, turning her head away and almost falling over from the sudden dizziness. “I didn’t know I could do that.”

She looked over Gray Panthra appreciatively. It was hard to believe that Panthra was in her 70’s. She didn’t look a day over 25, except for the gray hair. Heather reminded herself that they told her that no one exposed to Neitzsche Energy aged and Heather herself would always be 20 years old.

Panthra’s gray costume was a fetishist’s wet dream, with a light-gray skin-tight catsuit, which had a window in the chest area (showing off Panthra’s amazing cleavage), dark-gray thigh-high latex boots with 7-inch heels, and matching dark-gray opera gloves. She’d always thought Panthra was hot, even when she was a little girl, and she spent many a fevered, adolescent night stroking herself to the thought of this gray-haired beauty servicing her leaky, more-than-willing slit. She’d always wondered what the S.H. looked like nude.

“Um, Panthra?” she asked.

“Yes, Heather?” came a silky voice that could have made Panthra a fortune in the phone-sex trade. For all Hypnotic Heather knew, that’s what Panthra did on her days off.

“What’s your real name? It’s Ginger-something, isn’t it? Everyone knows it but I kinda forgot.”

“It’s Gloria Morgan,” Panthra said. She hadn’t had a secret identity in years, and didn’t mind telling people her name.

“Well, Gloria, I think you’re really, really hot,” Heather said.

“Thank you.”

Heather smiled evilly, an idea forming. “And I’ll bet you think I’m pretty sexy too.”

“Yesssss...” Gloria hissed, her eyes becoming heavy-lidded as she looked at the much-younger female. Her plastic smile melted into a knowing smirk. “You’re an absolute doll, babygirl.”

“Thanks. I think it would be just perfect if you took off that costume, don’t you?”

Without a word, the grinning Gray Panthra started removing her long gloves, followed by the boots, and finally her catsuit. She stood in glorious nudity before the other woman, Venus made flesh.

Heather had an idea. “Put the boots and gloves back on, baby. Those look so hot!” Smiling, Gloria complied.

Heather started taking off her tight bikini bottoms. She tossed them aside and sat down in the nearest chair, which had Tempest Storm’s logo on the back of it. God, this was really turning her on! She smiled, relishing the S.V. part. “Why don’t you get on your hands and knees and crawl to me, Panthra?”

Slowly, Gloria slid down to her knees. She leaned forward and propped her torso up with her hands, her large breasts hanging down, then crawled on hands and knees to the waiting Heather. Even in her enthralled mind, she knew what Heather wanted and she nuzzled the other woman’s wet slit with her nose, inhaling deeply. The scent was intoxicating and she eagerly lapped at it with her tongue, relishing the taste. She whimpered, then used her fingers to gently pull apart the young woman’s lips and slide her tongue in deeper.

Heather moaned, spreading her legs farther and pulling Gray Panthra’s face deeper into her cunt. “Oh, eat me, Panthra! Eat me, Femme Guardian of Justice. Eat my dripping pussy, you mind-fucked bitch! Oh god!”

Panthra sighed and began playing with herself as she continued to lather Heather’s wet treasure. She’d never been with a woman in her life. She wasn’t attracted to women. But Heather had her spellbound in more ways than one. Since being hypnotized, she had been turned on, as if the mere act of control was sexually exciting her. Her world was Heather’s body and her purpose to obey. She wanted to serve her forever and she didn’t know, in her reeling mind, if it was the hypnotic spell or some new way of thinking. At the moment, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was bringing Hypnotic Heather to orgasm.

After a few scant moments, Heather came, flooding Panthra’s mouth with her juices, which the hypnotized S.H. lapped with increasing pleasure. The taller woman continued to play with herself until she came too, moaning and wailing into the S.V.’s cunt.

Hypnotic Heather grabbed Gloria by her gray hair and pulled her head up. Panthra was panting, her eyes closed, her cheeks flush, her tongue moving like it was still lapping at her captor’s juicy slit. Heather laughed and put her right foot on Panthra’s shoulder, pushing her away. “You can stop now, bitch!”

Panthra stayed down on the floor but looked up beseechingly at the shorter woman. “Please!”

Heather thought for a moment. “Why didn’t I think to ask you this?” she asked. “Panthra, what’s the procedure when a S.V. captures an S.H.?”

“You can keep the S.H. for about 12 hours, then you have to release him or her,” Gloria gasped.

“It’s been close to that now, slut,” Heather commented, looking at the large clock on the wall above the huge monitor. “Anything else?”

“You can’t kill the S.H. and you can’t do anything sexual with them.”

Oh, shit! “Fuck! Who came up with that candyass rule?” Heather snapped.

“I don’t know,” the tall woman panted. “Please... Let me lick you some more! It’s been so long since I had sex.”

Heather narrowed her eyes. “How long? With who?”

“Ten months,” Panthra said. She sat up and started rubbing herself. “With Overlord.”

“Shit,” Hypnotic Heather muttered. “I figured it would be some guy. And it just had to be him, didn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“That was a rhetorical question, bitch,” Heather sneered. “Do you live alone, Gloria?”

“Except for my kitten, yes.”

“What’s your home phone number?” Panthra told her and Heather punched it into her cell phone. “OK, here’s what we’re going to do, Panthra: When I tell you to, you’re going to put your costume back on. You’re going to go home, and you’re going to forget that you were here.”

“Yes, Heather,” Gray Panthra said, still rubbing herself.

“The fight ended with me getting away, so you went home and took a nap, then had dinner alone. Got it?”

“Yes, Heather.”

The S.V. thought for a minute. “Panthra, listen to me. You feel good, don’t you? Very, very good. In fact, you feel better than you ever have in your life. Isn’t that right?”

Gloria moaned, approaching orgasm. “Ooooh, yes! Yes!”

“And you want to feel this good again, don’t you?”

“Yes... Please!”

“Panthra, any time you hear me say ‘Heather is a cool girl’, you’re going to fall back into this wonderful, feel-good trance.”

“Ooooh. Yes, Heather! Yes! Anything you say.”

“When you’re in this trance,” Hypnotic Heather suggested, “you’re a horny, submissive lesbian slut. Say it.”

“I—I’m a, a, a... horny... Oh god! Submissive. Lesbian. Slut... Oh, gawwwwwwd!!” Gloria could hold out no longer and came, drenching her fingers. She collapsed in a heap on the floor.

“Now follow your instructions, Panthra.”

“Yes, Heather,” Panthra sighed. Heavily, she stood up and stood for a moment on wobbly legs, made even wobblier by her 7-inch heels.

Heather sat in the chair, idly playing with herself as The Gray Panthra got dressed, and calmly walked out the door. She sat there for about fifteen minutes before her cell phone rang.

“It’s your dime,” Heather said.

“I saw you on the evening news,” came the androgynous voice of Copycat. “You go, girlfriend!”

“Hey, ‘cat,” Heather said. She laughed. “Yeah, third time out and I made the news. Mattel should have those Hypnotic Heather dolls out in time for Christmas.”

“You know it,” came the laughing reply in a slightly more feminine voice. “What happened at the end though? It looked like you talked to Panthra for a second, then left.”

“Just a post-hypnotic command for her not to follow me,” Heather lied. “You know, the usual.”

“I hear ya,” came her own voice back to her. That’s how things were with Copycat. After a minute or so, s/he was your exact duplicate, whether s/he wanted to be or not. “Too bad you didn’t get the loot. The city lets you keep about 10% if you get away with it.”

Heather smiled and rubbed her still-throbbing clit. “Yeah, what can I say? It’s a lousy job, but someone has to do it.”