Whiteout

Chapter 1

by Modren

Tags: #comic_book #f/f #dom:female #multiple_partners #pov:bottom #solo
See spoiler tags : #dom:male

Disclaimer: The following story contains consensual and non-consensual hypnosis and sexual activity. If you are underage, or if these themes make you uncomfortable, consider yourself warned. The characters and situations depicted below are fictional, and they should remain that way. The author does not condone any non-consensual sexual activity.


Val hoped she wasn’t bothering the taxi driver by tapping her foot so much. She didn’t like drawing attention to herself. She’d always been shy, and never really grew out of it even as she approached her thirties.

Of course, it didn’t help that if someone noticed her, they might recognize her from her other exploits.

She sighed. Normally, tapping her foot would be enough to keep her anxiety at bay, but she was just too nervous. Her heart felt like a jackhammer; she leaned back into the carseat and tried to take slow, deep breaths. You’re gonna be fine, Val thought. Just take it slow, make some friends, and then you can work all this out.

She thought about the night that led her to take this taxi. She didn’t notice her hand absent-mindedly playing with the top of her skirt.


At 10:47 PM, a portal opened on the roof of Hammer Records.

The portal was shaped like an oval, stood about 6 feet high, and hovered a few inches above the ground. It bathed the roof in a harsh, purple glow. From it stepped a woman dressed in a purple short-sleeved leotard with a white stylized “A” covering the torso, and matching knee-high boots and elbow-length gloves. Her hair was glowing the same unnatural shade of purple as the portal, and was pulled back into a ponytail. The domino mask did relatively little to cover her face, and it didn’t do much to draw attention from her striking purple lipstick either. Underneath it all was a deceptively-simple black bodysuit – deceptive because, despite its delicate appearance, it was sturdy enough to block a bullet. The whole ensemble was skin-tight, accentuating her modest breasts and lean, yet muscular build.

The woman in the bodysuit went by many names. Tonight, she was Violet Angel.

As soon as she was through the portal, it closed behind her with a barely-audible shimmer. Her hair stopped glowing and returned to its normal shade of brown. Violet exhaled deeply, and then examined the scene.

At her 2-o-clock was a skylight, and at her 10 was a door leading downstairs. She cautiously approached the skylight and looked down. Below her was the reason for her visit: pop star flavor of the week Sky… something or other. Violet didn’t really keep up with pop music, but she had seen the singer’s latest music video when it was making the rounds on social media. It was a little hard to focus on the music when Sky danced around in nothing but a few strips of gold tape, but sex probably sold better than whatever vapid lyrics the record company’s team of writers could come up with.

The 9-1-1 call HQ intercepted from Hammer Records was identified as coming from Sky’s cell phone. It was difficult to make anything out at first – Sky appeared to be in hysterics, and only a few words like “crazy bitch” and “psycho” could be heard clearly. But within a few moments, Sky’s tone suddenly changed. There was a brief period of confusion, and then the only coherent statement in the entire call: “I’m sorry, operator. I made a mistake. There is no reason to send anyone here.” At which point she hung up.

Which would be the end of it, except she was the twelfth person to end a 9-1-1 call with that exact same statement, with the exact same tone of voice, in the past two weeks. Which, to Violet and the rest of her team, signaled it was time to step in before they had to deal with lucky number thirteen.

As Violet watched Sky from the skylight, she immediately noticed that something was very, very wrong. The singer was on her knees, completely naked; her tan skin was glistening with sweat, her neon-blue hair was frazzled, and she was shaking like a leaf. Her right hand was working furiously between her legs, and her left hand was fondling her breasts. As she looked closer, Violet noticed that Sky was also repeating some statement over and over, but she couldn’t hear it through the pane of glass.

Just when Violet was wondering why Sky would be acting like this, someone else stepped into view. It was another woman, with pale skin and a bleached-white undercut. It wasn’t just the hair; her entire ensemble was pure white, from her tailored suit, to her shoes, and even her lipstick. Violet smirked. Wonder what aesthetic she’s going for.

The woman in white snapped her fingers, and Sky’s face scrunched up as she moaned loud enough to be heard even through the glass. The other woman kissed Sky’s forehead, leaving behind a white mark, before sauntering over to the far end of the room and pulling up a stool. She unzipped her pants, and with a wolfish grin, beckoned Sky to approach her. Sky crawled towards the woman on her hands and knees.

Alright, thought Violet. Show’s over. She opened two portals, one just above the skylight and one right behind the woman in white. Taking a deep breath in, she jumped into the portal and used the momentum to tackle the woman to the ground, holding her down with her face against the carpet.

If anyone was impressed by Violet’s showmanship, they didn’t show it. Sky remained seemingly unaware of what had just transpired, still crawling towards the now-tipped-over stool while mumbling something incoherently, and the woman in white just smirked at her. “You know,” she said, “I was wondering when one of you would take notice.”

Violet glared at her. “You don’t want to fight me. Release this woman from whatever drug or spell you’ve used on her, and surrender.”

The woman just rolled her eyes. “‘Drug or spell?’ Darling, even though it’s flattering you would think I’m some sort of witch, I can assure you that is not the case. And if you’re inferring I’m some common drug dealer, well…” She turned her head over to Sky, who was at the moment patiently staring at the wall. “Sky, my dear? Go wait in the corner. This won’t take long.”

Sky’s body snapped to attention. “Yes, Madame!” she replied, and she crawled over to the corner.

The woman in white smiled and turned her eyes towards Violet. “I’m waiting,” she said, her posh English accent somehow getting even stronger.

“For what?” sneered Violet.

“For you to incapacitate me? Arrest me? Ask me my name, perhaps?”

“Your name doesn’t matter. You’ll lose just the same.”

“You seem confident.” The more she talked, the more this woman got on Violet’s nerves. Her arrogance, her posh accent that was so stereotypical that it came off as rehearsed, her lack of respect for-

FLASH.

…for…

The woman in white pushed against the floor, causing Violet to tumble over onto her back, and flipped around so that she was now on top. “Oh, my apologies,” the woman in white grinned as she straddled Violet’s hips. “I forgot to mention something. I have no intention of playing by your rules, purple girl.”

“Purple girl?” Violet glared at her opponent and pushed her off. She rose to her feet and boasted, “I’ll have you know, you’re not dealing with some run-of-the mill vigilante! I am Violet Angel, member of-”

FLASH.

“…of… uh…”

What was I talking about? Violet shook her head, noticing the cobwebs that had started to form in her mind but not paying them any mind. You can do this, Val. She’s just some random woman, you can take her.

“Member of what, my dear?” teased the woman in white as she sat cross-legged on the floor, her chin resting on her hand. “You trailed off for a second there.”

Violet blinked and tried to collect her thoughts. “I am… a member of Team Rainbow! The Violet Angel!”

The woman in white tapped her chin and looked up at the ceiling. “Hm… yes, I think I’ve heard of you. You’re the one with the little circles, right?”

“T-They’re not circles, they’re-”

FLASH.

“…uh…”

Something inside Violet was dimly aware that something was wrong, but that voice was worryingly quiet in her head, struggling to be heard through the thick treacle that slowed her thoughts to a crawl.

The woman in white stood up and approached her, examining Violet’s face like it was a fine work of art. “My, you’re quite susceptible, aren’t you?”

Susceptible… Violet knew she knew what that word meant, but she couldn’t connect the word and the definition. Every thought took so much effort to form. Her mind popped and fizzled, swimming in a feeling of warm, comfortable emptiness. Whatever she tried to think wouldn’t coalesce into any greater whole. Words, memories, ideas – they appeared, and just as quickly vanished, drowned out by the void that was consuming her mind.

“Sure,” said the woman in white, “you’re holding out better than the pop star, but, well, she was never a very bright bulb, was she?” Violet didn’t respond; she could understand what the woman was saying, but any sort of processing or critical thinking were beyond her capacity. The woman frowned. “Say something, will you? So I know I’m not just talking to a brick wall?”

Say something…

“…something…” Violet finally mustered after a long moment.

The woman chuckled to herself. “Well, at least I haven’t completely broken you. On your knees, my dear.”

On my… no…

Violet’s knees stayed still.

Won’t… kneel…

Violet blinked. The corners of her mouth started to twitch.

I won’t submit… to her!

Violet opened her mouth-

FLASH.

-and it hung there.

“That should do it,” said the woman in white. “Gave you a half dose this time, since you were already so deep.”

“Deep…” Violet repeated. She didn’t think about what she was saying. She wasn’t thinking at all anymore.

“Seems to have done the trick. On your knees.”

Violet dropped to her knees. It felt so right to be here, so right to do what she was told. The woman in white walked over to her, her eyes hungry and her left hand removing her belt and lazily dropping it on the floor. “You are quite ravishing, my dear. Say ‘thank you.’”

“Thank… you…”

“And smile.”

Violet felt herself grinning a big, stupid smile. The woman in white smiled back. “God,” she breathed, “you look so fucking beautiful when you’re blank.” She kissed Violet’s forehead, and Violet purred in delight.

The woman in white stood up. Violet’s eyes followed her. “Listen close, my dear,” the woman said as she unbuttoned her pants. “When I snap my fingers, you will fall even deeper into trance. You will remember nothing from now until you wake up. Nothing, except that you were beaten… by Madame Blanc.”


“Hey, lady? We’re at your stop.”

The taxi driver shook Val out of her reverie. To her horror, she noticed that her hand had drifted underneath her skirt and was absent-mindedly rubbing her clit. She quickly handed the driver the cash and got out of the car, her cheeks a bright crimson that stood out against her olive skin. Dammit! Why do I keep getting so worked up over this?

She walked briskly down the sidewalk. The taxi didn’t actually drop her off at her destination, but rather a couple blocks away. That was deliberate. Val couldn’t bear what people would think of her if they saw her arriving at a BDSM dungeon.

When she woke up on the floor of Hammer Records, the air reeked of sex. Sky was on top of her, still passed out, and Val could feel a draft between her legs. Reaching down, she felt that her costume was torn, her privates exposed and slightly damp. She delicately pushed Sky off of her, and noticed a Polaroid stuck to the pop star’s sweat-soaked skin. On the back was elegant handwriting that said, “Songbird and Fallen Angel,” and on the front was a picture of Val and Sky, completely blank. Val even spotted a bit of drool – at least, she hoped it was drool – hanging off her chin in the picture. In the bottom corner, Madame Blanc had left her calling card: a white kiss mark.

In the week since, Val couldn’t stop thinking about what happened. She’d lost before, of course, but she had never felt so humiliated by a defeat. Most of the time, if a supervillain managed to knock her out, she woke up tied to a chair, maybe over a pit of acid or sharks. She knew her enemies were proud of defeating her, but Blanc had violated her, in both body and mind. Blanc made her do God knows what that night, and that lack of knowing only made her more terrified than if she knew what happened. And on top of that, there were no clues at the scene of the crime. If Blanc was using some sort of technology to create the flash that blanked her mind, none of it was found at the scene. What’s more, the security videos for that entire evening were erased, and Sky had her memories wiped too. The same went for the other 11 people who made those 9-1-1 calls. Not only had Val been utterly trounced, but she had absolutely no idea how.

And yet, even through her anger and her fear, she felt something else.

That feeling of blankness, of her thoughts slowing and finally stopping, of Madame’s words controlling her so effortlessly – all of it was so alien to Val, and yet so endlessly fascinating and arousing. Every night, she masturbated over and over to that memory, that moment where her mind was lost and she surrendered to Madame’s control. It started on accident, like what happened in the taxi; she tried to remember what happened that night, and before she knew it her hand was in her panties and she was moaning in ecstasy and mumbling “Madame” to herself over and over. She always thought of her as Madame when she got aroused; it felt so right to think of her as Madame.

She bit down on her lip as she approached her destination. Don’t embarrass yourself right away. You’re better than that, Val. You’re a damn superhero! You can’t get so nervous over something like this! The outside lacked any markings aside from the street number, and the windows were blacked out. Even the front door was locked; but in an alleyway facing a bar that had closed down some time ago, there was a sign and a side entrance. The sign read, “The Pink Mansion.”

It wasn’t much to go on, but Val had done her homework. This was the most popular BDSM dungeon in Prism City, and today was the day that Mistress Weiss was going to teach a class on erotic hypnosis.

Val went down a bit of a rabbit hole while she was trying to understand what happened to her that night. She discovered Mistress Weiss on one of the many sites that had sprung up in the wake of the Tumblr apocalypse, and she became instantly enamored. There were no pictures of Weiss on the site, but she did have plenty of short erotic stories and captions which pushed Val’s buttons like nothing else. Weiss seemed to be exactly on her wavelength; her description of trance clicked perfectly with what Val wanted, and what made her experience with Blanc so captivating.

So when she saw Weiss post that she was going to be hosting a class on erotic hypnosis at the Pink Mansion, she knew she had to go. She had to see her.

Val knew she was turned on by what Madame Blanc did to her, but she also knew that getting blank and horny in the middle of a fight was a recipe for disaster. With Weiss, she could explore those feelings, and maybe even do some work to make sure she wasn’t as susceptible next time she fought Blanc.

Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Val went through the side door.

When she opened her eyes again, she didn’t quite see what she expected. There were a couple people in fetish gear, but most of them were just dressed like… normal people, going about their day. Everyone was seated in rows of folding chairs, facing an impromptu stage, with a single mic stand and a door off to the side. A small blackboard sign, like the kind you’d see at a bar telling you the daily specials, said “Today! Mistress Weiss presents Erotic Hypnosis 101! 2PM sharp!”

Val looked down and checked her watch. 1:58. Almost late! Maybe if you didn’t let yourself get distracted you could’ve gotten here earlier. She quickly hurried to an aisle seat, one of the few that were left open.

Exactly two minutes later, a woman stepped out of the door and stood behind the mic stand. The woman was tall and slender, wearing a black leather jacket and matching pants. Underneath her jacket, she wore a simple white t-shirt with the logo for a heavy metal band emblazoned across it. Her face was-

Val froze. Arousal and fear gripped her at the same time. She knew that face.

“Welcome!” said Madame Blanc. “My name is Mistress Weiss, and I’m here to teach you about hypnosis!”


Author’s note: I would like to thank Three Hammers, Somnophile, and Madam Kistulot for their help in refining this story.

I’d also like to take a moment to mention Carefully Random’s Discord server and the Mind Control Literature Discord server, which are both wonderful communities of erotica writers and readers. I’ve also opened up my own Discord server, which you can join here.

If you’re interested in reading more from me, you can check out my tag on HypnoHub, support me on Patreon, or view all my links at modern.carrd.co.

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