The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Bondage

No, Mr Bond, I Expect You To Die

“I will never forgive him for leaving me.” The tall woman turned her back on her bound captive, her long black hair falling dramatically over one eye as she turned.

“Ah... by dying?” offered the well-dressed man bound to the table.

“How dare he go and die on me?!” she replied, distraught.

“... when you... killed him?” the man was gradually slipping into the exaggeratedly-calm tones used to talk to small children and the mentally ill.

“I didn’t kill him.” She turned back to the man on the table. “I was in Peru at the time.”

“Ah, pardon me. When you left him bound in chains in a tank of freezing water filled with hungry, genetically-enhanced sharks. Doubtless it was the sharks that actually did for him, but, ah, what did you expect to happen?”

“I expected him to escape! I expected him to use the key that he’d so sneakily palmed to unlock his chains and then wrestle my super-sharks to a standstill while locating the weak point in the tank’s lid and then... oh, and then escape, to come back and try to foil my plans again another day.” She sat down on an extremely expensive chair, pouting.

“Apparently the key slipped from his hypothermia-numbed fingers. Bad luck, that.”

“It was an unforgivable oversight on his part. If he really loved me, he’d never have allowed it to happen.” Irritatedly she crushed out her cigarette on the bound man’s leg.

He stifled a noise, letting only a slight pained expression reach his face as he briefly closed his eyes. “If he really loved you.”

She favored him with a sly smile. “You did not know of our love?”

“Well, he was starting to come in for a certain amount of ribbing about how often you seemed to capture him. If you two had something going on the side, that would certainly explain a lot.”

She stared morosely into the darkness of her secret cavern lair. “I don’t think he ever consciously realized it.”

“Ah, that kind of forbidden love.”

She glared at him. “Do not mock me! His body knew mine many times. I just... had to use drugs to block his memory of our passion.”

“Uh huh. Did you have to use drugs to get him into your bed, too?”

She smiled. “Not after the first time. Oh, his body remembered me. It was so adorable watching him try to pretend it did not.”

“You know, I really don’t understand why our file on you lists you as crazy.”

With a growl, she leapt forward and wrapped a hand around his windpipe. In almost the same moment, he slipped his left hand from the manacle he’d secretly been picking during their conversation and closed it around her neck.

Her eyes widened in surprise, then she gave a cry of delight as she let go of his neck, drew a baton from her belt, and offhandedly broke his forearm.

“You! Oh, you could be him!”

Through gritted teeth he groaned out “I suppose my escape skills aren’t any better.”

“Oh, you’re nowhere near as good, don’t flatter yourself. But you might be close enough... I was just going to shoot you like a dog, but perhaps...” She disappeared into the darkness for a few moments, muttering to herself, then came back pushing a large machine. “Here it is! That German quack was going to use it to imprint his memories onto his clones. But he never successfully tested it before someone shut down his operation. I picked it up at a... let’s call it an estate sale.”

She maneuvered the machine over next to the table, until its giant ray-gun-like protrusions were pointing directly at her captive’s head.

“Luckily I made a copy of my darling’s memories during one of our... rendesvous. Since it’s never been tested, nobody knows how faithful it will be, but... desperate times, eh?”

“There is certainly some desperation going on here,” he said, teeth still clenched and breathing tight.

“Oh, you even have his sense of humor! Oh, this will be fun. Hm, the face will need a bit of work... add a bit to the nose, square off the cheekbones... but I know some excellent plastic surgeons.” She scanned the rest of his body quickly but methodically. “You have about the same build...” Pulling out a knife, she sliced open the front of his pants. “Okay, that will need some work...”

“Hey!”

“Oh, don’t feel bad about it dear, he was very gifted. And soon, you will be too, isn’t that exciting to look forward to?”

“Yes, this is all certainly very exciting.”

“Oh, don’t be sarcastic, dear, I could be throwing you in a death trap. Well, actually, I plan to do that too, but... oh, but first!” She wandered a little ways into the darkness again, producing rummaging sounds. “The memories will take a while to retrieve from storage, and even if I kidnap the plastic surgeons and fly them straight here—and that would be rude, wouldn’t it?—it will take them a few days, but this I can start on right away.” She held up a syringe, carefully found a vein in his still-manacled arm, and injected it there.

His eyes immediately lost focus. “What... is...”

She briskly cut away the rest of his clothing, then slid out of her dress. “Training your body to want me. You won’t remember this part, but don’t worry—” she leaned in to whisper in his ear—“I’ll make you like it. Get hard for me now.”

His cock immediately began swelling, as his eyes lost the rest of their focus.