Miss Modemoiselle (long, a little hypnokinky, supervillainy) Show more
"Alright, you can do this." Grace looks in the mirror and takes a few deep breaths. She brushes a few creases out of her ball gown and makes sure all her wires are plugged in. She failed way too many test runs because the network crisscrossing between her petticoats didn't like the sudden direction change when she kicked on her rocket parasol. The tablet on her belt lit up green. 269 tests run, 269 passed. Eyepiece calibrated and highlighting good girls. Choker choking. Hair freshly ribboned.
"Well, hm. That's a little cliche. Maybe if I went with the stage magic theme."
Ahem. "Connection established."
She muttered to herself about how that sucks too when she stepped up to address her adoring public. She should get one of those people who announce "Minions!" The microphone in her choker connects itself to the speaker system in her lair. Her voice booms across the room. "Today, we-"
"Can you not call us minions any more?" A girl with pink hair swooping out from under her maid cap raises her hand.
"Yeah!" Someone dressed as a butler waves. "We took a vote at the last union meeting. We prefer 'henchfolk' or just 'henches' for short."
"Some of us are okay with being called 'minion' in an erotic sense, but that's it." A third calls, leaning against her gravity hammer.
"Very well! Henchfolk! Today, we launch our first real heist!" She swings her parasol with a flourish. The tip flickers to life and the fans inside begin to whir. She projects the official portrait of a certain local politician who's been in the news lately. A groan rises from the crowd.
"I know, I know. We're all sick of hearing about her. That's why we're going to stage a little coup. We all know you can't fight City Hall, but~?"
"Modemoiselle! Modemoiselle! We'll follow you right to hell!
Minds empty! Hearts filled! Thinking only what Mistress willed!
Empty dolls will fill her halls! Perfect thralls will empty her balls!
Modemoiselle! Modemoiselle! Modemoiselle! Serve!"
Her henches chant in perfect unison and stand straight in perfect rows. Modemoiselle smiles and thrusts her parasol forward.
(art by @distressedegg ~)
horny thinkin Show more
brain: cheerleaders coming up with cheers about how great I am
me: pretty good, what else you got
brain: a small, brainwashed, immaculately dressed army chanting your praises in perfect unison
Miss Modemoiselle 2 (long, hypnokinky, orgasm, supervillainy) Show more
As much as she loved to make a big entrance in front of the largest audience possible, it's probably good to enact your plan to brainwash a city council member when nobody's around. You ever brainwash someone just to see them get recalled or kicked out of office? It sucks.
That's why Modemoiselle is arriving at City Hall, heralded by MIDI fanfares and hella compressed MP3s, at two in the afternoon. Until she gets some real theme music commissioned, it's just generic royal procession type music with a little Never Gonna Give You Up mixed in. Her two strongest henches (formerly The Mighty Megadon and Strong Glad, now dressed like ponies) effortlessly pull her carriage while she waves to her adoring public. They're even cheering and waving back (as they should) ever since she seduced someone else with super strength who could pull the new speaker system with subliminal focusers. When she arrives squarely in front of City Hall, two of her maids hop out front and properly announce their perfect Lady's presence.
"All rise for Miss Modemoiselle! From her magnificent mind to her beautiful behind!" The first one calls. Her voice loud, clear, and easily heard, even inside the building.
"Mistress of her domain from peak to plain! From server to client, from mountain to mind, Modemoiselle is who you'll find!" The second knows how to really sell it. She's got the accent and everything. It's like the queen herself is telling everyone how horny you make her.
Modemoiselle steps off her carriage, twirling her parasol and looking around at her adoring public. She takes her sweet time. Both ponies get their ears scratched, a sugar cube, and a playful swat on the cutie marks to keep them nice and blissed out until she returns. Her heralds get to walk behind her. Their job isn't done yet. They open the front double doors for their Lady and bow to wave her in.
A few quick sprays with her parasol get the security guards bowing, too. They're so cute when they get gassed for the first time. Their eyes roll back into their heads. You can see them twitch when the chemicals gain a foothold in their brains. The moan when the nanites find just the right paths to amplify. The raw bliss of knowing that you have a purpose in life, and she's only a few feet away. The heart flutter when you see her blowing a kiss, even if it's not at you.
This particular kiss is a pulsing green holographic heart blown at the security camera. It takes its time looping and swirling in the air. When it finally connects, it pulses down the wire at the speed of light. Hard drives spin up. Screens fill with spirals. The poor, lucky guards in the monitor room never know what hit them. That room turned into a blissful, hazy hothouse with lots of chanting Modemoiselle's name at the drop of a hat. More like the throw of a cop hat across the room in the throes of passion.
She steps up to the front desk and makes a big show of sitting on it. She inspects her Power Gloved hand until she gets the inevitable "Can I help you?"
Well, she got more of a "Can you put your ass literally anywhere else? There's no costumed weirdos on the calendar today." and a poke with a pen, but that works, too.
"Check again, dear." Modemoiselle plops her hand on top of the monitor. Green circuit traces drip down the screen and form a beating, pulsing, swirling heart. It slips down off the screen, through the computer, and over the network. Look at that! She's booked solid. In fact, she's already late for her 1:30 Kiss Modemoiselle's Toes appointment! "I'll just let myself in~"
"I'm gonna call the cops if you do. The ones with gas masks."
Modemoiselle winked. She snapped her power-gloved fingers. Every screen in the building lights up with that same pulsing, swearing heart. Being a supervillain is mostly about branding. Especially if you can brand some brains while you're at it. A tap of her parasol twirls the secretary towards the screen. Her eyes lock on to the calculated curves and shimmering swirls. "See that, dear?" She takes her chin and inches her head juuust a few degrees to the left. "Good girl. Now the spirals are hitting your corneas just right. You should start drooling and moaning my name in three~ two~ aaand~" There it goes. "Let the whine of the LCD drown out your thoughts, dear. You've been naughty and mean to Miss Modemoiselle, but she's been nothing but nice to you. Good girls apologize, and there's nothing more important than being a good girl for Modemoiselle."
"I'm sorry, Miss Modemoiselle. I just wanted to be a good girl."
"I know you do, dear. That's the most important thing there is. Do you know how to become the best girl you can be?"
"Wave an umbrella around all the time?"
"First of all, good girls know it's a parasol. It's-"
"Good girls know it's a parasol."
"The best girls love to watch Modemoiselle's screens. They love Modemoiselle in their heads. They love Modemoiselle in their hearts." She coos, adjusting her newest toy's head just so. "It's okay to just let your brain turn off and let Modemoiselle take over. Your head nice and empty for just a little bit. Your mind all mine."
She drooped a little bit. Nice and limp in her gloved hands. Modemoiselle whispered in her ear. "You get to sit here until I leave and fantasize about all the wonderful things Modemoiselle is going to do to you. The sky's the limit. She could tie you up and slowly slurp your brains out from between your legs~"
"Mmmph~ Yes, Miss Modemoiselle~"
"Or make you a little more like herself every day until you're her obedient little copy~"
"W-would I get a cute little pink streak?"
"When you earn it~"
Mmm, that got her moaning.
"Or even just being another cog in her machine, bringing her light to the world. Dressed up like my lovely little maids, programmed to serve my every whim~"
"Missssssshhh~!" There goes that pair of panties~
"You're a messy one. Cute~" Modemoiselle rewards her with a kiss- which only sends more delicious code pulsing into her brain and bringing her immediately to another messy orgasm. They're gonna have to get her chair steam cleaned.
"You've got some homework to do, dear." One more snap of her fingers burns https://hypnovir.us into her brain. "We'll be in touch~"
Modemoiselle let herself into City Councillor Niumaker's office, maids in tow and plan in mind.
Don't let the name fool you. All the pornography here is legal, and much of it is hand-written. No fascists, no bigots.