The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Police Constable Lane started counting to ten and then decided she had better make it twenty, just to be on the safe side. What she really wanted to do was take her collapsible baton and wipe the smug, self-satisfied smirk off the subject’s face. But such behaviour was frowned up, even in the Met and besides, there weren’t even any nearby steps down which she could claim he had fallen.

Not that ‘The Brimstone’ lacked grand, sweeping staircases. In fact, all of the tiny theatre’s well-appointed fixtures and fittings positively dripped with art deco charm, from the cheap seats at the back, all the way up to the dizzying heights of the ‘gods’.

With the curtain raised and the house lights up, Mandy could stare out over the sea of dark, velvet seating. There was something reassuring here, as though she were looking back into an earlier, less complicated age. Everything seemed bright, and even the antique wood shone like polished ebony.

Mandy sighed and turned back to the swarthy magician. He might have been impeccably turned out, right down to the sharp point of his neatly trimmed beard, but the policewoman couldn’t quite bring herself to meet his gaze without feeling decidedly uncomfortable.

Mr Tisinger didn’t act like a suspect. In fact, he didn’t act quite like anyone she had ever met. There was something disquieting about his large, watery eyes and the sallow complexion of his oily skin. Simply put, the man gave Mandy the willies!

“Sir,” she continued after taking a deep breath, “if you could try to stay on topic. We’re here as part of a missing-person investigation and so far you’ve been less than helpful.”

She gave herself a mental tick in the box. That sounded a hell of lot better than, “about as much use as the square root of f-all!”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Constable,” the man grinned. “It seems as if you drew the short straw.”

He made an ostentatious gesture, indicating Mandy’s partner. The tall Welshman was across in the wings, interviewing a dark-skinned woman whose costume appeared to consist of little more than a handful of carefully placed gemstones.

Reece was wearing a lop-sided smile and appeared to be discussing the finer points of the case with the assistant’s cleavage.

“Look,” she snapped, biting off the rest of her retort. “You’ve already admitted that Sharon never reappeared after you ‘vanished’ her from the stage last night. Doesn’t that strike you as the least bit surprising?”

“It’s true,” he admitted and Mandy was sure his smile had just become a leer. “They do normally come back. But it’s not as though there’s any shortage of pretty young things who want to be on the stage.”

“Mr Tisinger,” she gasped, not quite managing to keep her voice level. “I did some checking before I came here, and this isn’t the first mysterious disappearance linked to your show.”

The magician gave a low chuckle, which to Mandy at least, felt just the wrong side of filthy. She made a mental note that she was going to break his fingers if he even thought about touching her with those greasy paws.

“My dear,” he smiled obsequiously, “it is a magic show. Mysterious disappearances are my stock and trade.”

“You know full well that’s not what I mean,” Mandy said carefully, clenching her hands into tight fists in an effort to remain calm. “Just cut the crap and tell me what’s going on!”

He regarded her for several moments, his eyes unblinking as though he were appraising her. Mandy fought not to blanch under that all too knowing stare and then, quite suddenly, he came to a decision.

“As you wish,” he nodded. “There’s really very little to tell. Sharon and the others merely moved on to a different role.”

Mandy stared at her suspect, acutely aware that her discomfort was shifting into something approaching fear. Tisinger suddenly felt decidedly creepy, although she couldn’t quite understand what, if anything, had changed.

“What kind of role?” she wondered.

“Well, Mandy,” he chuckled, “everyone in my employ has their own needs, and sometimes it falls upon the more junior associates to make sure those needs are met.”

“I’m not sure…” Mandy began.

“Oh come now,” Tisinger laughed, “you’re a woman of the world, Mandy. I’m sure we both know exactly what I’m talking about… we’ll more or less.”

The sense of confusion was almost paralysing. Mentally, Mandy was reeling, while she swayed gently, mouth open in a silent ‘oh’. How did he know her name? She was almost sure she hadn’t told him. Perhaps Reece had used it?

And just what was he admitting to?

“It’s like I said,” the magician continued, “there’s no shortage of pretty young things and all they want are their fifteen minutes of fame. In return, when those fifteen minutes are up, I give them to my benefactors.”

“You do what?” Mandy managed, forcing the words through numb lips.

He tilted his head slightly and gave her another appraising stare. Mandy could feel herself rallying, as though she was finally coming to grips with the surrealistic situation.

“Power demands sacrifice,” he explained, as though this was the most natural thing in the world. “And I’m hardly capable of sating their appetites, even if I were remotely interested in doing so. It’s a simple enough equation and, at the end of the day, everyone ends up happy… what could possibly be wrong with that?”

Obviously Tisinger was quite, quite mad. That explained the sense of dangerousness he was radiating, though it still didn’t bring them any closer to finding the lost girls. But this wasn’t the right place for an interrogation. He needed to be cautioned, arrested and taken down the station.

“Tell me,” the magician asked abruptly, “have you even considered the stage? You certainly look the part.”

“Reece!” she called out, recognising the implicit threat.

But she barely had time to gasp that single word before her thoughts were once again sent spinning out of control. Tisinger’s hand stroked over Mandy’s body, impudently goosing the stunned policewoman before very gently taking her chin and easing her gaze toward the wings.

Her partner was clearly no longer listening. He and the magician’s assistant was engaged in what could only be described as a passionate embrace. The svelte woman ground herself against the Welshman’s body and nuzzled into his neck. Reece for his part simply clung to her, moaning and whimpering softly.

It must have been the sense of unreality, the confusion that still wrapped itself around her thoughts, but something about the almost naked woman looked wrong. The way she moved, as though her body had far more joints than it was supposed to, and even her flickering tongue seemed somehow unnatural.

Mandy could only stare, unable to deny their eroticism but acutely aware of the sense of darkness that lay beneath the surface of the scene.

“Diviah’s needs are a little more… basic than most,” he explained, while his fingers slipped under her stab-vest and lingered, disgustingly, over the starched blouse. “It was so good of you to bring her a snack.”

“Snack?” she echoed stupidly, unable to drag her eyes away.

“Lamia need to feed, Mandy,” Tisinger explained. “But don’t worry, the last thing you’re friend is ever going to feel is the best sex he’s ever imagined.”

This time the disconnection was fading more rapidly and Mandy found herself shivering uncontrollably at the madman’s touch. His hands were as oily as she had suspected, but every caress was perfectly precise and despite her revulsion, she could feel her body responding.

Anger rose and this time she welcomed it, ignoring her training and focussing on the need to escape.

“No,” Tisinger said sadly, “I’m afraid I can’t allow that.”

Another wave of dizzying sensations swept through her mind, pushing Mandy further into herself and giving her no chance to make use of the rising anger.

“How?” she gasped weakly.

The magician’s laughter was warm and entirely unaffected. Despite herself, the policewoman felt it ripple through her, stirring unexpectedly delicate shivers.

“Magic,” he answered, as though that single word explained everything.

Mandy tried to speak, but all she managed was a soft groan. Her body felt rooted to the spot. Every effort sent another helpless twinge deep into her belly and the magician’s increasingly confident hands only added to the policewoman’s discomfort.

“Nothing too complicated,” Tisinger continued, while his fingers danced over her breast, stroking the sensitive flesh through layers of stiff fabric. “Just a simple glamour, like the one Diviah’s woven around your friend. But you’re made of sterner stuff, aren’t you, Mandy? You’re not some air-headed model or wannabe actress.”

Arcane power tickled behind her eyes, unravelling her thoughts and knotting every idea into a complex tangle of unconnected strands.

“I’m sure you’ve already noticed that the numbness has started to fade more and more quickly. That’s your mind learning how to fight against it. If I kept it up for long enough, you might even break free completely… which is exactly why I’m not going to do that…”

Very slowly his hands slipped from beneath Mandy’s armour, grazing her taut nipples and pinching cruelly as they did so. The policewoman whined impotently, flushing with embarrassed frustration at the magician’s casual molestation.

He tugged gently, pulling her radio loose and uncoiling its long flex. Tisinger leant close to Mandy, still smiling. Very gently he began to guide her backwards, supporting her clumsy steps, while she half tripped across the stage. When he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper.

“I’ll keep this,” he announced. “It’s for the best. After all, you wouldn’t want to end up accidentally luring any more of your colleagues into my clutches, now would you?”

Her muscles gave a small twitch, which was a victory of sorts, but far too little and too late. The magician’s fingers stroked across her cheek, caressing the blush far too intimately.

“I’m sorry, Mandy,” he offered bleakly, “I don’t make a habit of messing with the authorities, but I can’t afford to let you go now. I’m sure you understand.”

The policewoman managed to open her lips just enough and, was about to tell him exactly what he could do with his apology, when the floor literally opened up beneath her and she plunged into darkness.

She landed on a large pile of dusty cushions and crash mats. It took several seconds for the last of the fuzziness to melt away and by then the trapdoor had long since snapped shut. The only respite from the pervasive shadows came from the emergency lights, and they were far too few in number to make any real difference.

Unnatural darkness surrounded her. Strange shapes lurched and cavorted just beyond her reach. Mandy scrabbled to her feet, fumbling for her Maglite. Soft scuttling added an eerie back note, while something unseen, but presumably heavy, creaked and shifted nearby.

The beam of her torch cut through the oppressive gloom, glinting against burnished metal and painting gleaming highlights over a series of increasingly macabre tableaux. Mandy gasped, her mind had already been reeling and now here she was, confronted by a storeroom apparently filled with medieval torture devices.

Ordinarily, Mandy would have assumed that they were nothing by props but, given everything that had happened, she was struggling to maintain that sense of comfortable mundanity. Worse still, even the shadows had taken on a strangely liquid quality and she had the unpleasant impression that they were retreating just ahead of her torch’s reach.

Her grip tightened around the cool metal as Mandy tried to slow her ragged breathing. Very carefully the policewoman drew her baton, snapping it open with a flick of her wrist. She wasn’t really sure what to expect, but couldn’t quite shake the feeling that she was being watched.

Mandy tore her gaze away from the elaborate cabinets and boxes, not to mention something that looked suspiciously like an iron maiden. The dim emergency lighting would lead her to an exit, assuming whatever else was down here allowed her to get that far. Cautiously, the policewoman stepped forward, taking care where she planted her feet.

Fear sent corpse-fingers sliding down her spine, stirring discordant recollections of the magician’s lascivious attention. She took her third step and that was when Mandy caught furtive movement at the edges of her vision. The policewoman whirled, raising the baton defensively.

An ornate cabinet stood beside her, its door slightly ajar. She let the torch beam play over its gilded fixtures, her body thrumming with adrenaline. Tortuous seconds passed and nothing seemed to happen, then, with a ponderous inevitability, the door continued to swing open.

She fought to hold the Maglite steady, but couldn’t quite still its anxious rattle. Mandy took a half-hearted step forward, the baton held ready in her right hand. The policewoman squinted into the cabinet’s interior, willing it to give up its secrets.

With a shrill shout, something exploded from the shadows. Mandy caught a glimpse of glittering red eyes and just as suddenly there was nothing but leather, claws and teeth.

The torch cartwheeled away while her diminutive attacker chittered and spat. The policewoman screamed, flailing wildly for a moment before she remembered the baton. She took a step back, tangling her feet in the detritus littering the storeroom floor. As she started to overbalance, the thing shifted its weight, carrying her to the floor.

Mandy hit the ground hard, knocking the air from her lungs. The creature took advantage of her momentary distraction, clawing and pulling maniacally at her stab vest. She could feel the toughened material parting beneath its onslaught, exposing the all too vulnerable blouse beneath.

Belatedly, she lashed out and was rewarded with the heavy thud of metal against flesh. The creature only had time for one short squeal of pained surprise as it was propelled into the darkness.

The policewoman pulled herself upright, panting from her exertions. Mandy’s body armour hung in tatters and threatened to tangle her arms as she moved. She clung tightly to the baton’s grip, eyes searching for the fallen torch. But once again, the only illumination came from the storeroom’s battery-powered lighting.

She squinted, peering into the uniform blackness in the hope of making out something that might help her to make it safely across the cluttered expanse. When the first glint of red appeared, the policewoman didn’t really register it.

But, as more and more of them began to emerge from the surrounding shadows in crimson pairs, Mandy realised just how much trouble she might be in.

At, first nothing happened. The baleful eyes simply stared, unblinking, at the terrified policewoman. Silence stretched, until all Mandy could hear was the racing trill of her own heart.

And then, giggling wickedly, the dark-skinned creatures swarmed forward en masse, as if responding to some pre-arranged signal. Mandy yelled her own response, brandished the bloodied weapon and stepped to meet the charge.

Shapes leapt from the darkness, eyes bright and wide. The policewoman swung her baton back and forth, desperate to keep them at bay. But, even as a solid blow sent a shock of impact stinging up Mandy’s forearm, more of the creatures were hurling themselves onto her or scrambling up her dark trousers.

Two of the foul things landed on Mandy’s back, while a third missed its mark, bounced painfully against her shoulder blade before tumbling back to the floor. Their claws bit into her skin, as they climbed higher, while in turn, the policewoman fought to get hold of her attackers, clutching angrily at their scaly hides.

Again and again she swung the baton, somehow barely staying ahead of the madly chittering tide. But Mandy could already feel herself tiring and her tiny assailant’s numbers seemed endless. She kicked out, flinging several of the evil creatures away into the shadows and felt another of their number slam between her shoulderblades.

Cruel fingers tangled in her hair. While the policewoman stretched to reach the climbing nuisance, several more of their number saw an opportunity and launched themselves at her legs. In moments they had scaled to her knees, holding on tenaciously despite how she kicked and thrashed.

Mandy had wanted to hold something in reserve and, although the battle had only just begun, she knew that it was now or never. Ignoring the risk of hitting herself, the policewoman vicious struck out at the climbing creatures. At the same time she reached for her belt and the CS spray.

The thing on her back chose that moment to yank on her hair, tearing her dark locks from the regulation bun and snapping her head back. Without thinking, she flailed the baton behind her, hoping at least to distract it.

Even as she struck out blindly, Mandy felt clever fingers tugging experimentally at her belt buckle. It was almost as if the creatures were working together to distract her, but clearly that was impossible. Groping desperately for the aerosol, the policewoman tried not to think about the next wave of attackers, already scaling her legs.

Her baton waved, ineffectually, all but forgotten and then, something sharp and hot jabbed at her wrist. Warmth poured into her hand, unclenching her fingers and letting the weapon drop away. She twisted and her eyes met those of the creature seated on her shoulder. Stained teeth gleamed in the darkness and pleasure pulsed through her tingling fingers.

She screamed and backhanded the grinning imp, knocking it from its perch and back into the shadows. Her hand throbbed dully, tiny spasms of delight making it all but useless. Again she only realised that she had been distracted when it was far too late to do anything about it.

With a whisper of leather against wool, her belt slipped free. Mandy tried to grab hold, but even with her good hand she simply wasn’t fast enough.

The policewoman hadn’t thought much of her chances even with all of her equipment. Now the creatures had more or less eroded her defences, Mandy had no illusions about fighting her way out of this. All that remained was the, admittedly slim, hope of getting to the exit.

In an instant, thought became action and she flung herself towards the lighting’s faint glow, shedding startled imps as she slowly accelerated.

Mandy knew how cluttered the storeroom was and she could only hope that a route to the emergency exit had been kept clear. Relying on health and safety regulations at a time like this felt bizarre, but there didn’t seem to be any other option.

As it turned out, the policewoman was right in her assumption. But, she had reckoned without the cunning creatures. Their tripwire was perfectly positioned to catch her leading foot and send her tumbling back to the ground.

Even before she had come to a complete stop, the imps were swarming over her. Mandy levered herself from the ground and just managed to sit up before the bulk of her assailants arrived. They flung themselves onto her legs, using their combined weight to pin them in place before she could rise and get them back under her.

The policewoman took her weight on one hand, and tried to sweep away the giggling horde with the other. It still burned, passionately and, perhaps because she was finally adapting to the darkness, Mandy noticed the glint of metal in her wrist.

Almost on cue, something cold touched her other wrist. Mandy couldn’t move her arm, not without falling back down. And so, there was nothing she could do as the cuff ratcheted closed. The creatures didn’t give her a moment’s respite, while the majority weighed down her leg, another group began to pull on her shackled wrist.

Mandy could see what they intended. Heavy pipes sprouted from the wall nearby and it was toward these that they were dragging her arm. She knew that her only hope was to stay mobile. Once they pinned her in place it would be all over. But their strength was incredible and, much to her consternation, the policewoman was barely able to hold them at bay.

Reluctantly she stopped trying to fight off the other attackers. It wouldn’t matter anyway if they managed to shackle her. But, no matter how logical that thought might be, she still couldn’t quite convince herself that it was a good idea.

First things first. The police woman quickly brought the tingling hand up to her face. She stared intently at her wrist, recognising the tiny needle which had been sunk so deeply into her flesh. Mandy tasted something sharp and bitter as she took it between her teeth. There was a flash of discomfort which faded into a hollow ache as she pulled the barb free.

She spat, shrugging off another creature that seemed to have realised what she was doing and only then turned her attention back to her tethered wrist. Being caught in your own cuffs was an old academy joke and most officers carried a spare set of keys just in case.

The constable took a deep breath, knowing she would only have one chance at this, and then she flung her free arm away from the cackling imps. Her body started to twist and, predictably, the creatures increased their efforts, trying to hold her in place.

Mandy silently counted to five before she decided that they had committed all their strength and then she hurled herself back in the opposite direction. The sudden reversal came as a complete surprise and the using the imp’s own efforts against them, the policewoman easily flipped over onto her belly, spilling attackers as she rolled.

Without pause she dragged both hands underneath her body and used them to lever herself upright. The creature’s surprise lasted only seconds, but for a moment at least it seemed as if that would be enough.

But, just as Mandy began to hope, another of the foul things slammed into her back and drove her back down onto her face. The policewoman howled in frustration, as the creatures scurried over her prone form. Clawed fingers dragged at her wrists and set the metal clinking menacingly.

Tensing her muscles, Mandy fought to break loose, but without any leverage it was a vain effort. The imps seemed preternaturally strong. And, even though the largest of them was barely two feet tall, their endurance seemed limitless, whereas, the policewoman’s was already beginning to flag.

Slowly, but inexorably, she could feel her arms being drawn closer and closer together. Her muscles shook with the effort, and beads of sweat stung her eyes. She gave one last, futile heave but couldn’t stop the cuffs from snapping shut around the other wrist.

That was when it all finally became too much for the poor woman. The primal fear she had been holding at bay for so long, burst through the faltering barriers. It was all impossible, and yet, horribly, horribly real.

The policewoman exploded into motion, thrashing, kicking and squirming. She was berserk, hardly aware of what she was doing any longer. And still she didn’t slow. Skittering imps were thrown this way and that. The majority drew back. While a brave few darted in and out, gaining more than a few bruises in the process.

Only after her struggles had finally reached their crescendo, did Mandy’s rational mind once again rise to the surface. Her wrists were chaffed and sore, but nothing else had changed. She was still undeniably caught.

She slumped, dejected, her last chance of escape apparently lost. The imps moved in more slowly this time, showing obvious caution. But, once it became clear that their captive had ceased her mad thrashing, they wasted no more time. The creatures deftly rolled her back over, further trapping the policewoman’s now useless arms beneath her weight. Sharp, reptilian faces loomed over her and cruel fingers began to pluck at her clothing.

Mandy was about to kick her legs, not quite ready to abandon all hope, but she froze when a particularly large creature leapt onto her stomach. The imp cocked its head to one side, over-sized bat ears flapping in agitation, and smiled wickedly. She could see dark blood oozing from a deep gash on the side of the thing’s face and found herself shivering.

Very deliberately, it reached for the waistband of her trousers. The creature’s bright eyes never left those of its captive. The policewoman struggled not to shiver when the razor-sharp claws brushed against her skin. She felt her trouser button pop open, and then he was digging out the hem of Mandy’s blouse to expose her pale and trembling stomach.

More of its kin tugged on her trousers, dragging the rough material down her shapely legs and over her brightly polished shoes. But Mandy’s attention was focussed entirely on the imp and the long, slender needle it had just produced. The policewoman recognised the same barb she had just sucked from her wrist and couldn’t help but tense in anticipation.

Chuckling to itself, the imp stabbed down and plunged the needle into the tight flesh just beneath Mandy’s bellybutton. The sharp scratch burned into a deep, soothing heat and in spite of everything, she couldn’t help gasping out a soft moan of desire. Warmth poured into the policewoman’s legs, melting everything from her waist down.

The imp twisted the needle, sending soft spasms through the skin of Mandy’s inner thighs. Arching back, she unintentionally raised her backside and the creatures wasted no time pulling down her cotton panties.

Their laughter filled the air, adding humiliated embarrassment to the horror of her ordeal. But the creatures gave her no respite. Almost as soon as they had finished stripping her legs, the imps turned their attention to her top.

Her epaulettes were ripped from the blouse, disappearing into the mass of scaly flesh and then, they started tearing at the fabric itself. More of the unnatural sexual lightning played over Mandy’s body, tingling delightfully over her sex and sending erotic echoes deep into her pelvis.

She whimpered helplessly, no longer able to meet the imp’s knowing gaze. The other creatures pulled her top open, ripping off the buttons in their haste to denude her. They seemed momentarily uncertain when they caught sight of her utilitarian bra, but that only lasted long enough for them to realise that the garment was vulnerable to their claws and fangs.

The blouse was jerked down over her shoulders, bunching around her tethered wrists. But her brassiere was simple shredded, allowing the policewoman’s soft, rounded breasts to spill out and slosh invitingly against her chest.

Blushing fiercely, at the creature’s growing hilarity, Mandy looked up into her tormentor’s eyes. The imp brandished a second needle and she instinctively recognised the threat it represented to any chance of regaining her freedom.

Quickly she glanced left and right. The imps seemed to have accepted her surrender and their attentions now were focussed entirely on teasing and humiliating her further. Mandy braced herself as the one she’d decided must be their leader stepped cautiously over her body and climbed into the shallow valley between her breasts.

Its next step would bring the evil thing to her sternum, but, as it moved, Mandy took her chance. She brought up both legs and then slammed her feet down onto the hard concrete. At the same time, she arched her back, taking all her weight on her shoulders. Pain mingled with pleasure as her shoes fought for grip, but the policewoman knew she mustn’t lose her balance.

The imp gave a wail of surprise and scrambled madly for purchase before losing its grip on her slick skin and sliding away from her perspiration-dappled cleavage. She sprang, unsteadily, to her feet and, while her technique wouldn’t have won her any points for style, Mandy rated it her best ever performance.

She stumbled, almost falling as the momentum drove her forward. Mandy pushed herself on, forcing one foot in front of the other. If only she could make it to the exit…

Somewhere in the middle distance a light beckoned and the policewoman was happy to let it guide her.

It seemed obvious that her attackers were far more adept at moving in darkness than she was. But, by now Mandy’s eyes had night-adapted, adding shades of grey to the previously uniform blackness. It wasn’t much, just enough to give her some vague idea of her surrounds. She could only hope that it would be enough.

Wild hooting followed close on her heels, but she didn’t dare look back. None of this would matter if they caught her again. All she could do was run as fast as possible and pray it would be enough.

Mandy could feel the pack moving in. Dark shapes flanked her, growing closer with every step. She blinked up at the dim lights, trying to gauge how much further she had to run. Air whispered far to close and it wasn’t hard to imagine the cracked claws reaching for her.

But then, her shoulder crashed into the heavy door and, an instant later, she had twisted her hip into the metal release bar. Mandy fell through the opening and out into brilliant light. She gave a dispirited moan, eyes screwed tight against the sudden brightness, as the world lurched and she tumbled toward the unseen floor.

No, not when she had been so close!

The hisses of pain and frustration sounded behind her at almost the same moment as the strong arms caught and held her. Mandy blinked, tears streaming down her face and further blurring her sight. She could hear the angry noises fading and relief flooded through her.

Relief which lasted just long enough for her ‘rescuer’ to speak…

“Why, Mandy,” the magician chuckled, “it seems you’re almost out of uniform.”

She jerked away, but his grip on her upper arms was far too tight. Mandy squirmed in place, but that only added to the relentless pulse of forbidden pleasure. The policewoman blinked again, still dazzled. Through the haze she began to make out more detail.

The exit had emerged onto a loading dock and beyond that she could see the city streets. She gave no thought to her nudity. Her only goal was to escape and if she could somehow get there, if she could somehow make it back to normality, then perhaps all this would simply go away.

Her eyes darted left and right. The street was empty and even the hubbub of distant traffic seemed muted. Mandy tried to push all thought of that distant sanctuary aside and instead focussed on her immediate surroundings. Perhaps there was another way out?

Beside her on the dock were two large bins and a bulky, black plastic bag lay discard on the concrete at the magician’s feet. The sack was open and the policewoman could just make out a bundle of heavily stained rags inside.

It took a few seconds for her mind to recognise what she was seeing. And, it was only when her eyes alighted on the remains of a blood-spattered, uniform shirt, complete with epaulettes, that she finally accepted.

She took a deep breath, heedless of the besuited magician. Surely someone would hear her screams?

“No,” he whispered, not unkindly, “I don’t think so.”

The strangely comforting sense of detachment licked over her thoughts, stilling her voice as it wrapped around her consciousness. It’s touch was far gentler than before, but no less implacable.

“You’re an incredible woman,” Tisinger told her admiringly. “I hope you realise that.”

Mandy waited, biding her time as the confusion faded, and trying to ignore how the magician’s eyes roamed over her open and decidedly vulnerable body. The policewoman knew she would only get one chance and she had to make it count. Very carefully she shifted her feet, fighting to ignore how that forced her thighs to press together so appealingly.

“To have escaped my benefactors must have taken great skill,” he continued.

She saw her chance as he began to move and drove her foot up hard, aiming to catch him between the legs. Like the self-defence instructor at Hendon had once joked, “it doesn’t matter how big and scary the bastard is, he will go down if you hit him hard enough in the bollocks!”

“Skill,” Tisinger repeated. “And no small measure of luck.”

He moved far faster than she would ever have given him credit for, reaching out to gently press the imp’s needle. Something wet and wonderful coursed through Mandy’s veins, doubling and then redoubling the hideously inappropriate pleasure.

Both legs collapsed under her, totally robbed of strength and only the magician’s grip kept her upright.

Mandy wanted to scream, to rail and berate the unfairness of it all. But as she stared at the man’s soft face, another possibility occurred to her.

“Please,” she whispered, willing him to understand. “Don’t give me back to them. Not like this.”

“Oh, Mandy,” he laughed. “You are simply wonderful. But tell me, if I’m not going to give you to my friends… what do you suggest I do with you. I’ve already explained that I can’t just let you go.”

The policewoman swallowed hard, barely trusting herself to speak. But the decision seemed an obvious one. With those things, she would have no chance. Tisinger might be disgusting and amoral, but at least he was human.

“Keep me yourself,” she urged, not quite believing that she was really the one speaking those words. “I’ll do anything. Just, please, don’t give me to them.”

“You make an interesting point,” Tisinger conceded. “I’m just not sure that I should trust you.”

She paused, trying to find a lie that wouldn’t be obviously implausible.

“Why don’t you try to convince me?” he asked, his face twisted into a lascivious grin.

Very gently, the magician lowered her to the ground. Mandy’s paralysed legs simply folded beneath her, until she was kneeling at Tisinger’s feet. He placed one hand behind the policewoman’s head and curled his fingers in her hair.

Mandy already knew what was coming. She was, after all, in the perfect position to notice the bulge in his trousers. But that didn’t make it any less appalling when he tugged open his flies to expose the full enormity of his semi-erect penis.

She dragged her eyes from the magician’s manhood and looked up into his face. It was impossible not to feel a twinge of subservience under the circumstances, but he couldn’t possibly expect her to perform like this, could he?

“Come now, Mandy,” Tisinger smiled. “Only moments ago you were offering to be my willing sex slave… surely you don’t intend to fall at the first hurdle? Come on, you’re doing so well. Just show me, Mandy. Convince me that I should keep you for myself.”

Her eyes snapped back to the turgid member. She couldn’t deny her arousal, even if it was entirely artificial. And she hadn’t been lying when she’d said she’d do anything to avoid being given back to those creatures. But, this?

“Would it help,” the magician wondered aloud, “do you think, if I pointed out that I wouldn’t actually need your consent if I decided to take you? But, that if you give yourself willingly, the experience will be an altogether more pleasurable one, for both of us.”

Heat clenched the policewoman’s sex, as if it was urging her to give the magician what he wanted. She gave a soft moan and realised she had no choice. Even the possibility of freedom would be worth it and, right now, it was so close she could almost taste it.

Mandy leaned in and took him into her mouth, hesitantly at first but growing in confidence as the warmth of arousal continued to pulse through her pelvis. Tisinger tightened his grip in her hair, as she worked him back and forth. Her teeth played over the length of his shaft, clenching gently to draw back his foreskin with every stroke.

She felt him grow rigid and paused, holding as much of him in her mouth, while the tip of her tongue danced over the tip of his exposed glans. Sucking softly, Mandy trapped and held him, her own thoughts growing foggy with the building lust.

Slowly, the magician began to pump his hips, forcing her to renew the tender assault. She swirled her tongue, daubing him with a thin sheen of saliva and let her teeth graze against his sensitive flesh. Tisinger set the pace and she was happy to let him, matching his accelerations with increasingly forceful nips and nibbles.

He ground himself into the policewoman’s mouth, before suddenly growing tense and still. Mandy tried to pull away, but his firm grip on her hair was enough to dissuade her. And then, with a great gasp, Tisinger came, crushing himself rhythmically against her.

Hot salt filled her mouth, overflowing and spilling forth as she struggled to swallow. Cum oozed onto Mandy’s chin, before dribbling down over her collarbones. The magician’s sticky manhood slid slowly from between her lax lips and she let it go with something approaching reluctance.

The policewoman’s head was still spinning, when he lifted her from her knees. Arousal burnt white-hot between her thighs and was almost enough to melt the shame of what she had just done.

“You make quite a convincing argument,” Tisinger grinned, still catching his breath and he tucked himself back into his hand-tailored trousers.

His hand stroked down her belly, raising the sensitised skin into tingling gooseflesh. Mandy gave a hiss of excitement that was entirely unfeigned and in response his touch drifted lower still. With one hand the magician pinned the policewoman’s wrists against her straining buttocks. While the other slid through the dark tangle of matted curls guarding her sex.

“I wasn’t fair before,” he explained, sliding one long finger down the length of Mandy’s aching lips.

She wanted to press herself into that assured touch, but the needle had stolen all her remaining strength. Mandy didn’t want to beg, and yet, given everything she had been through already was it really such a high price to pay?

“Please,” she whined, her voice almost inaudible, “not so gentle.”

Tisinger pulled her closer, letting her taut nipples grind viciously against his tailored suit. She gave a moan of shamed delight as he crushed his palm to her swollen pubis and slid into the heated exclamation of her gaping sex.

“Normally I make sure my offerings are nicely dazed before hand,” he continued, taking her quivering nub between thumb and forefinger and rolling the tender flesh. “But like I said, Mandy, you are truly extraordinary.”

The magician’s expert caress added another layer of bliss to the needles prickling refrain. Raw arousal wove its tender knot around the core of her being and she strained ecstatically against the harsh metal cuffs.

There was no denying her traitorous body’s reaction and, at that precise moment, she simply didn’t care. Tisinger’s words reached down into the hazy, lust-filled depths of that first unimaginable climax, tickling over the over-stimulated folds of her melting brain.

“No,” he went on, “for you I need something a little more special.”

She could feel his finger tracing very slowly around her throat, painting Mandy with the undeniable proof of her wanton submission. And, as the finger completed its decadent circle, the policewoman could sense that now familiar fog once more taking hold of her thoughts.

“It’s not that I’m not tempted, Mandy,” the magician continued, sadly. “It’s just that we all have our needs and, right now, I need you to be a good girl and to give my friends what they want.”

He lifted the policewoman’s still-trembling body in his arms and carried her carefully back toward the open door. The slick, painted collar gleamed more brightly, dampening Mandy’s reason and colouring everything else with a veneer of warm arousal.

Her willingly spilt juices mixed with his semen and more than a little magic to form the tightest of bonds. Mandy’s surrender crystallised around her throat, forming a beautiful, unbroken band.

She only half-sensed when she was lain reverently on the cold floor and, by the time the door had swung shut, plunging her once more into the oppressive darkness, she was almost completely unaware. Even when the first scaly shape slipped from the shadows, the fallen policewoman didn’t have the wherewithal to react.

Only when the large imp crawled impudently over her chest and raised its evil barb did Mandy find the strength to even notice and by then, of course, it was already far too late.