The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Prologue:

It was just a plain brown box. He put it down and smiled and the girl in the corner smiled back. Not that she had a choice of course, no one ever did. And yet at the same time, everyone always did. She could have chosen not to have been where she was, wearing what she had, doing what she was doing, at that particular place and time. But of course she had. She could have chosen not to have approached the good looking young gentleman at the far table with the ketchup stain near the salt shaker. But of course she had. And she could have chosen not to be enticed by his flirting, or by his charm, or wit. But of course she had. And so, this was her fate. He didn’t feel bad at all. She had chosen her path, or it had been chosen for her. Either way, she was either a victim of fate or her own ignorance of the future. And ignorance deserved consequences. He continued on his merry work, whistling as he wound the last wires and pressed the final buttons. He looked at the girl one last time, at her beautiful eyes, her lovely flowing hair and her luscious smile. He would miss her. A little. Kind of like how one might miss a piece of steak right before they chewed the last bite. She certainly was pretty. Of course, this wasn’t due to any action on her part. Any conscious action at any rate. He chuckled and put his handiwork down. Guests were coming. A guest at least. He gave the girl a kiss and she kept smiling. Guests had to be treated well. He patted her on the head. They needed good people to serve them and nice objects to look at. They derserved the best. This one especially. He smiled. This one deserved the best. He had been proficient and unyielding in his pursuit. And thusly would this guest be rewarded. The smile faded a bit. He hated winning sometimes. It just all seemed so easy. He shrugged it off. Maybe he needed a hobby. That was a thought. He kissed the girl one last time and walked off. Maybe stamp collecting. The door slammed. The girl’s eyes were calm. Her breasts perfect, her hair still in it’s perfect shape. It was all perfectly arranged for his guest. After all, they deserved the best. It was just a plain brown box.

I.

The mental energies ripped and tore through the warehouse, sending enough random data in them to permanently blow apart any mundane’s mind if they were nearby. Trent looked visibly upset, which, since he very rarely looked upset, meant that the psychic barrage being sent at him was of enormous power, although not very localized, and that, he thought to himself, would be the key. He’d have to work fast though, the boy, although young, was very, very strong, stronger than a kid of that age should be. Already, he was sending out a lot of power to combat what was being thrown at him and their psychic strands had been battling it out for a while already in an invisible game of tug of war. Not invisible to Trent though, as being a Gifted he saw them quite clearly. Slowly he tore down a bit of his mind shield and created a new and very separate tendril and wrapped it discretely around an outer strand of the boy’s attack. He roughly gauged the amount of energy that was being put into beating him and was disappointed to find out that it wasn’t enough. He pulled harder. Cmon, he thought, take the damn bait. He was lucky, the boy, although powerful, was inexperienced and pulled back just as hard to regain control. That was when Trent let go. By the time the boy knew what was going on it was too late as what he was pulling against was no longer there and he suffered the mental equivalent of whiplash. However Trent wasn’t done yet and as he saw the boy’s mind recoil, that one lone psychic tentacle he made pulled harder on that outer mental string and essentially jarred the boy’s mindshield open.

Trent grinned, now to end it. The boy didn’t even see it coming this time and in seconds his mind was smashed open by a sudden rush of all the mental power Trent could muster, allowing the Chinese teen to take his opponent’s mind. He quickly seized control and shut down every access the boy had to the Gift and slowly approached him. Trent searched the boy’s mind for the area that governed truthfulness and projected into it to always be truthful to him. Of course what the boy perceived would probably not look the same as what he saw. Trent had long ago realized that the “Gift” was essentially the ability to view and manipulate the code of life, as if it were a computer program. However, just as most programmers did not directly affect the 1s and 0s of the software, the Gifted all had their own interfaces to affect the mind and body. Some just had to think it, some had to think in linguistic terms and project that thought into the mind, and some saw it more physically, with rooms, and cages and other such physical objects existing in the mind. He saw a Windows-like interface, the mind all neatly ordered with directories and windows for every emotion, feeling, etc. To put a thought into a person’s subconscious, all he had to do was form it and put it into the area he wanted, sort of like a mental “drag and drop.” Which is exactly what he had just done, drag a command, in this case to be truthful to him, and drop it into the boy’s “window” of truthfulness. Hopefully it worked, he wasn’t completely sure that it would. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if anything he did would work. Trent simply had never dealt with a Gifted this strong. He sighed. There was only one way to find out.

“Who are you?”

The boy looked confused. “I don’t know.”

Trent blinked. Was the truth command not working? Was the kid indeed too strong? He rechecked again. Nothing. It should be working. “You don’t know?”

“No. I can’t seem to remember.”

He did a quick scan of the memory area of the boy’s brain and was not a bit surprised to find that there was some memory wipe done there. However, what did surprise him, and at the same time scare him, was that there was no echo at all, no remnant of the boy’s previous identity and memories. He had seen good memory wipes before, ones with maybe, 5% or less echoing, and had even heard of cases where there was less than 2%, but a clean sweep? It was impossible in his experience. Every time a memory was wiped there would always be residual traces of the original record, the longer a certain personality or memory had been in a person’s mind, the more of a trace it left. Which was why if a person had several memories created in him, a wipe would leave a small amount of the most recently made, and large amounts of the original memory. Of course, everything would have to be rebuilt from the bottom up, but original memories were completely impossible to destroy totally. It was the standard procedure of fixing victims with several different false memories or personas. You’d do a level 1 or 2 mindwipe which filtered out all the fake memories, leaving you with the original one that you could work with and rebuild. Even a 98% degradation could be dealt with, in theory even a 99% could, as long as you had something to work with, it could be done. Obviously with a 98 or 99% case, more than one Gifted would probably be needed. He thought back to when he and Colt had to work together to repair a girl’s mind during the time they were investigating the OM project. It had been touch and go for about an hour before they managed to find something they could use. Even then it had been a rare occurrence. Not even something as powerful as the OM effect could completely wipe a mind. What the hell had touched this boy?

“Who are you working for?”

He thought he heard the boy scoff, or was it a cough? “Someone much more powerful than you.”

Trent winced. Sometimes he wished that he could limit truthful to being “truthful without hurting my ego”. “Who exactly?”

The boy looked like he was about to answer but suddenly his eyes bulged and Trent had only a split second to realize what was about to happen and pull out. He was almost too late as the delayed mind bomb ignited destroying the most recent memories inside the victim. Trent went back in and looked around. Shit, there was nothing left. Why hadn’t he seen the bomb? He had done prelim scans, nothing was there. But yet there was. Something really powerful HAD been in this guy’s head. He looked around a bit more. It was really disturbing to have to leave a brain dead kid lying in a warehouse. There had to be a way to fix this. He searched through every memory he could but still nothing. The false personality was still there though, the arrogance, the hatred, but no memories whatsoever. He sighed and looked around at the now limp body of the kid lying on the ground. There was a slight bulge in the back pocket of his pants. Trent arched an eyebrow. He hadn’t expected to find any type of object that could establish the boy’s identity. The first rule of fixing up a person’s mind to suit your purpose was to remove anything physical that could help in identifying the person. But the clothes looked like they belonged to him, and the wallet, the watch, everything. Nothing had been changed. He wondered, could whoever was behind this not care at all about the physical world? What was extremely powerful, could set traps in a mind that could not be detected, could do complete and total mindwipes and cared nothing for the physical world but was extremely adept in the mental? He wasn’t exactly sure he wanted to know the answer. He flipped through the wallet. No driver’s permit obviously, the kid was too young to drive. Trent kept scrounging, no health card, no student card, no nothing. He swore and threw the damn thing on the ground, when he realized a small slip of paper he had ignored fell out. He picked it up. Curious, it had the word EMERGENCY written at the top and underneath had the fire and police department phone numbers and another number that said MOM’S WORK NUMBER. Trent pulled out his cell, hopefully she worked late. He dialed and waited and was pleasantly surprised when he heard a middle aged female voice answer.

“Hello?”

Normally Trent would have toyed, but this wasn’t a normal situation. He immediately seized her mind through the communication device and quickly gleaned information about her. She had two sons, one named Bobby and the other named Thomas. This was Thomas. He was 13, liked hockey and jacked off in his room when he thought nobody was looking. What?!? Trent ignored his gag reflex and kept getting info. Finally when he was done he hung up and began doing what he could to fix up the kid’s mind. It was hard work and he knew that even after he was done copying and pasting the memories and personality would only be about 1% complete. What more could he do? He thought for a second and smiled. This would be awesome. If it worked. He had always been a good programmer before he had become Gifted and what he needed to do now wasn’t much harder. He began constructing a small mental program inside Thomas’ mind. For the next year or so it would take in all the information it could from his surroundings and from the minds of people in his life and basically reconstruct his memories. After that the program would self destruct. He made sure that the program would only take memories relevant to Thomas’ life and never do anything but copy memories. Trent was fairly impressed when he finished and the program didn’t fall apart. Finally, he could go home. He sent one last command to destroy the false personality in Thomas’ mind and turned to walk away. He had taken only 3 steps when he heard the boy speak to him softly from behind. A voice from a memory that Trent hadn’t even known was there, a program that was even more advanced than his. “It’s too late, he’s almost here.” Then silence, as everything in his mind went dead and Trent’s program kicked in.

II.

The walk back to the house was longer than Trent remembered. Of course, all those other times he had done it he hadn’t been worrying about some unknown enemy and he hadn’t just finished a few hours of fighting a crazed super Gifted kid. It was cold tonight. Strange for May weather in Toronto. He adjusted his body temperature resistance to account for the extra few minus degrees and pulled up his jacket just to be safe. God, life just kept getting worse didn’t it? What WAS this ‘him’ that the kid referred to? Was there really something that was that powerful out there? He had seen a lot in the past year since he had been realized he had the Gift. He had met a lot of very powerful individuals, and had had a lot of experience in the use of the Gift. In his experience, the most powerful of the Gifted was Colt, and whether Colt was stronger than Trent was an open question. Colt had never been able to beat him. And in the same way he had never been able to beat Colt. Of course, most of their battles had been interrupted by circumstances or enemies but usually they would already have been at a stalemate at that point. It wasn’t just pure power that factored into a battle, it also had to do with adeptness at different areas of using the Gift as well as stamina and experience. In his experience, the male gender seemed to hold the edge in the stamina department while the female’s had the edge in the skill part. Although he and Colt were matched in stamina, Colt had more experience and greater overpowering strength, while Trent had an edge where reaction times and technique came in. So in any fight they would fight to a stalemate, the weaknesses balanced out any edge their strengths might have given them. It all came down to their awakening stories. He didn’t know about Colt’s but he figured it was like most of the Gifted, waking up one day and realizing that you had power. Strength was slowly built through that and they tended to exercise it often, thus flexing it like a muscle and making it stronger, whether you used it to get a girl in bed with you or just to make a dog into a cat, you were using it. And because young Gifteds tended to abuse their powers they had plenty of practice and thus built up their strength considerably. Trent’s awakening was a trial by fire. He had been forced to use his ability to keep not only himself but his entire school from being taken over by a fairly powerful Gifted. The first things he learnt was not how to make breasts grow but how to create a mindshield to withstand blow after blow of mental energy. Because of this he had to learn how to fight a stronger opponent without much power. He figured out ways to bypass walls and shields and how to dodge instead of absorb mental hits. It was do or die and he did. He sighed. But still, neither Colt nor him, nor both of them combined could do any of the things he had just witnessed with the boy. Yes, it was possible to hide something inside the mind but to make it completely invisible? It couldn’t be done. Could it? He was still pondering this when the ground suddenly rushing up at him woke him from his thoughts just in time to block the fall with an arm. He got up and realized that he had almost tripped on the stairs to his house. Trent chuckled and pulled out his keys, opened the door and walked in. He was immediately hit by a small truck. At least it felt like a small truck, if small trucks had cute perky breasts and planted kisses all over your face. He looked up and grinned. “Hey honey. You mind if you let me close the door first? We wouldn’t want people thinking this was an open invitation.”

Amy smiled sweetly and licked his mouth with her naughty tongue. “Hmm... Maybe we should invite them?”

Trent chuckled. “Anyone in mind?”

“Hmm... maybe that guy who works at the convenience store, I’d love to have him fuck me.”

“He’d never satisfy you.” He smirked, she loved to try to make him jealous. He didn’t mind, Trent knew that she loved him and only him, a true emotion she had that he had merely made sure wouldn’t fade.

She made a fake pout. “I know, you’d just turn his dick into a 2-incher.”

“It’s for your own good honey.”

“So you always tell me. You’re absolutely no fun.”

Slowly he got himself back up and locked the door. “I’m not? Well then I guess you wouldn’t want to have me in bed tonight right? Since I’m ‘absolutely no fun.’”

Amy Sanders made small whining noises. “You know I’m kidding sweetie.”

“Do I?” He smiled devilishly, he could sense how horny she was and knew that she could never be satisfied with anyone but him. It was something he had done a long time ago, and she knew it, though she was completely ok with it seeing as he was the only one she loved.

“You’re not being serious right? I need you... soooo bad.” She moaned longingly, it was the truth, she had been thinking about him the whole day. Every guy she saw reminded of him and she was so wet that it could be seen right through her jeans if anyone was looking.

Trent grinned, it was fun teasing her sometimes. What made it better of course was that she really did want and love him. He didn’t make her feel like this. Trent and Amy had become a couple shortly after he got the Gift and he had fallen for her in a way he had for no one else. She understood him completely and he in turn understood her. They were two halves of the same soul joined together through chance or destiny. When he decided to make a life for himself, he had asked her to come with him and she agreed. He did very little with his power on her and nothing that was without her permission. He had made her breasts a little bigger, a bit perkier and made her figure a little better, as well he had enhanced her love for him to make sure she would never leave. She was completely ok with this because they would be together and she didn’t mind looking a little better or being more in love with him, and she knew that he’d never leave her. Whether or not that feeling was artificial or not, she didn’t know and she didn’t care, she liked it. She was the reason that he had stopped his war on society, and why he had told Colt that he wouldn’t be “abusing” his power anymore. Of course this wasn’t completely true, and he didn’t care if Colt would try to stop him, but at least it got the GJL off his back. And of course, giving him more time to do stuff he liked, like Amy. He looked back at the beauty he held in his arms. “How bad do you want me?”

She looked like she was ready to burst. “Soooo badly, please take me. I need you in me. Please fuck me.”

He kissed her and she kissed back hungrily. “Wouldn’t you rather that guy who works at the convenience store?”

“Nooo... I was just joking. He’s nothing compared to you. I only want you. You’re the only person I love and the only person I lust after. Please fuck me, I’ve waited the whole day!”

“So if you can hold out that long, then it’s ok for you to wait a little longer right?”

Amy’s eyes looked like they were ready to cry. “Please don’t make me wait anymore, I need you. Please don’t make me wait any longer!!!”

Trent’s cock was already trying to break out of his pants but he tried to hold in the urge to ram his growing rod up her cunt. “Just wait on the couch a minute ok dear? I’ve got to make a call.”

She nodded like an anxious puppy and sat with her legs tightly together on the couch trying not to explode out of horniness as he charged his cell and picked up the regular phone to make his call. “Please don’t be long.”

“I’ll try not to.” He managed to mutter before the person on the other line picked up. “Oh hey. Yeah, can I talk to Mrs. Sanders please?” Amy’s mom had called earlier in the week and he had kept forgetting to call her back. As per Amy’s request he had refrained from messing too much with any of her family or friend’s minds. In her mother’s case, Trent had only made her ok with him moving in with Amy in a new home and not worry about their financial or academic situation. She still had all those other worries and would probably freak out if she knew that he was her daughter had become his cock-hungry slut, wanting him inside all of her orifices all the time. “Hey Mrs. Sanders, why’d you all? Uh huh, yeah, yeah that is a problem.” He was about to say more when a very pleasant feeling began emanating from his crotch. He looked down to see that Amy and pulled his hard cock out of his pants and had her beautiful lips wrapped around it. She was an expert cocksucker and was amazingly good at deep throating him, which she was doing at that very moment. He tried to supress a moan as he assured her mom that he and Amy were behaving properly and not fucking like rabbits (more like horny teenagers he thought). She pulled back out and teased his pisshole with her tongue and then deepthroated him again. Trent managed to mutter a very quick “umokihaftagobye” and slam down the phone before he came with a loud groan. His hot cum shot out into Amy’s accepting mouth and she licked and sucked every drop from him trying to take it all, which of course she couldn’t and some ended up dripping down the sides of her mouth. He looked down at her. She was quite a sight with her cheeks full of cum and some dribbling out. She looked like a sex-crazed chipmunk. A very cute sex-crazed chipmunk that he wanted to fuck.

“That was a very underhanded thing to do young lady.” He said sternly.

She hung her head in shame. “I know. I’ve been very naughty.”

“Yes you have, I think you need to be punished.”

Amy giggled and nodded. “Oh yes definitely, severely punished.”

He gave her a quick kiss. “All right young lady, go to your room, I’ll be right up to discipline you.” The last few words were given in a tone of voice that tried to be firm but belayed the real meaning.

She moaned at that and ran up, taking the stairs 2 at a time. Trent laughed inwardly and walked upwards. The day may have been exciting, but it wouldn’t even compare to the night.

III.

Amy’s moans filled the two-story house as Trent pumped in and out of her, sinking all six inches into her. Originally he had wanted to make his cock bigger, but Amy had stopped him because in her words she loved him as him and didn’t want him to think he had to change himself. So instead she had him make her completely crave those six inches and never want anything bigger or smaller. And crave it she did with all her being and soul. He of course did make himself a bit thicker, but she didn’t have to know that. Her moans were escalating now, signaling her impending climax. He pulled out and was about to slam home her orgasm when he felt a sudden dampening in the air. It wasn’t a physical effect, no humidity was actually rising, it was a dampening in his mind. The feeling of closeness, of oneness with the Gift was fading. It was like being torn from a lover and having her put a sea away from you. He knew what this meant too. He was going to be dead very very soon if he didn’t move. Quickly, Trent pulled out of Amy and pushed her off the bed causing her to make a small disappointed squeal as he too, rolled off. The crashing sound was immediate and the ceiling gave in as the massive half-dog, half-thing-from-hell came barreling down onto the bed, claws slashing at where Trent would have been. It spun quickly to face where Trent was quickly pulling up his boxers and lunged. The Gifted had only enough time to roll out of the way as the beast smashed into the dresser and got right back up to attack once again. He swore under his breath. He hated Seekers. Of all the foes and creations he had faced in his brief, yet eventful, Gifted life, Seekers were the worst. He had no idea who created them, only that it was by a group that hated Gifted’s, possibly in the government, possibly not. The only man who could have told him that information shot himself when he had arrived at the lab. It was the same group behind the OM project, he knew that much from what he had found on the computers, but beyond that he knew nothing about the Seekers’ origins. Of course, he knew much more about the Seekers. They were designed to destroy Gifteds, to exploit the one weakness they all shared, the human flesh and bone. What exactly they were he wasn’t sure. It had dog like features in that it had a snout, teeth, ears, and 4 legs, but its hide was hard and rough and its claws were at least a few inches long and from experience he knew it could tear a person to pieces in seconds. The worst part about Seekers was that they blocked a Gifted’s access to his or her power. Not only that but it would break down any muscular development they had created using the Gift, thus making them easy prey for its superior physiology. They were created with a special sense for seeking out people who had the Gift and within a few kilometres of a Gifted they would know where to look.

It lunged and Trent managed again barely to move out of the way. Damn, and he had spent so much effort making sure that no one knew where he was. He knew from experience that a Seeker had inside itself an electronic device that would give its location once it found a Gifted. However he knew that whether by design or a programmer’s error, the device went off exactly 10 minutes after a direct sighting, which meant he had about 9 minutes to kill the thing and remove the device. He leapt as it lunged at his legs. 9 minutes assuming he was alive. He dashed to the window and vaulted out as the Seeker came careening after. Armed in only his boxers, Trent dashed through the empty night streets as he tried his best to ignore the abnormally cold May weather. If worst came to worst, he wanted that fucking beast as far away from Amy as possible when the damn signal went off. He kept running and looked behind him to see how far the monster was from him. His face fell. The thing was gaining fast. Trent was lucky already that he was fast without having to gift-enhance his body (which he was incapable of for fights) and at school he was always on the track team, or would be if he cared enough to join. He kept running, that certain incident he had been involved in in the past didn’t hurt his chances in this fight either. He wasn’t built of course, he was on the thin side of a medium build and didn’t have broad muscles but he was deceptively strong and agile. The bridge was up ahead. He panted some, asthma was something he had forgotten he had thanks to the Gift. C’mon, ignore the pain he thought to himself, you have about 7 minutes to pull another miracle out of your hat against one of those demons. Suddenly he felt the air knocked out of him as the Seeker pounced on him and knocked him to the ground. Instinctively he rolled, saving himself from being gutted right there as he managed to put himself some 2 feet away from the beast. He got up and tried not to feel the pain in his feet, or his appendages from the roll. It was bad enough that he had to run on asphalt without anything on his feet, but to be fighting something like this in nothing but boxers? The victory sex with Amy afterwards had better be good. The Seeker lunged at him again and this time being ready for it, he spun around and caught it under the jaw with a very nice looking thrust kick. It hit the ground and got back up unfazed. He groaned. This was gonna suck. 5 minutes. It bared its teeth and dove at him again, he dove back, cutting impact time down to something it had not expected and the result was a bad-looking, but effective tackle which slammed Trent and the dog-thing into the ground, with Trent on top, and a claw stuck deep in his arm. He tried not to think about it. Another thing about Seekers was that any wounds it inflicted left a trace compound of the same kind coursing through its body, but of weaker magnitude. This compound would stop a Gifted from healing that wound using the Gift. He would just have to let his body fix this on it’s own. He sighed, at least it hadn’t broken any of his bones like last time. Rolling on to his back, Trent steadied both feet on the chest of the Seeker and ignored the slashing of claws across his legs and the powerful jaws kept just inches from his face by his arms. With one huge two-footed kick he blasted the monster off his prone body and saw it land with a satisfying thump on the ground a little away. He got up and saw too late that it had already recovered and was yet again attacking him. As he was jumping to the side to dodge he heard the car horn and felt a huge pain shoot through his body as he was hit by a few tons of steel. The car stopped and the driver was about to get out when the Seeker jumped through the vehicle’s back windshield, through the driver and out through the front windshield to get to Trent. The guy was definitely dead now. Trent tried to get up but couldn’t. Fuck. His spine was broken, he couldn’t feel his legs. The Seeker hunched over his body and drooled in anticipation of the kill. It bared his fangs, opened its jaws and went down for blood, which it would have had had Trent not just stuffed a huge shard of glass up the top of its mouth and through its brain. Its jaws came down hard but slacked off before they got to Trent’s jugular and the rest of the animal came tumbling down after it, dead. He sighed in relief and quickly felt the Gift returning to him. Within seconds he had healed his spinal column and was on his knees tearing at the chest of the dead beast, looking for the device. It took him another costly minute to find it and crush it. He looked at his watch. 9 minutes and 55 seconds had passed.

He laid back for a moment, ignoring the cold, ignoring the pain and ignoring the fact that he was a half-naked Chinese teen lying in the streets of Toronto in the still of night next to a destroyed car and a dead dog-thing. 9 minutes and 55 seconds. He laughed. True heroic fashion. Slowly, when he finally felt he had the energy to, Trent pulled himself up and examined the car wreckage. He ignored the Seeker carcass as he knew that in a few minutes it would disintegrate anyways. His hand felt around the body of the dead guy in the car. There was nothing he could do about the body, the Gift had no affect against someone hurt by the Seeker. However, the guy’s heart had stopped not because of a Seeker wound, but because of the loss of blood. Slowly Trent began to resurrect his vital systems and manipulated the cellular structure to preserve those particular areas. He patched together the man as best he could then, finding a pen and a piece of paper in the car, wrote a small note for the police officers who found him to give the note to the doctors who would treat him. The note commanded them to give him the best possible help and not wonder why his brain and heart were still working. Then he imbedded the thought commands into the note and left it on the windshield. He found a cell inside the car and dialed 911, told them where the accident was, hung up and began walking back home.

When Trent finally got back, he found his bedroom still in a mess and Amy lying on the ground with a really sad expression on her face. He walked up to her and held her gently. “You don’t have to worry hun, I’m ok.”

She looked at him, saw his bloodied body, his cuts, wounds and his exhaustion, and with big sad puppy dog eyes and a very big pout whined “I didn’t get to cum!”

IV.

“Signal lock in 30 seconds. 29... 28...” The systems operator’s voice sounding clear over the PA system of the hustling and bustling control room brought everybody’s attention back up to the oversized map that was sitting on the big screen at the front. Col. Sandra Rosen leaned casually against the back wall of the main room in a secret complex buried under Lake Ontario and observed the scene playing out around her. Things were running smoothly, as was expected in an outfit like the one she was commanding. Soon another Gifted would be found and rendered harmless, just like so many others her team had gotten their hands on. She smiled. And if the intelligence reports were correct, she would have her hands on one of the big 5, the top 5 most powerful and therefore dangerous Gifteds. She flipped through the file in her hands. Trent was someone she had tried to get her hands on before and failed. He hadn’t known it, but she and her team had just missed him and Colt by a few metres when they left the primary OM project building way back when. The errant shot that Trent hadn’t had time to worry about then had indeed been fired by her. She sighed, if only he hadn’t bent down to pick up that data chip. It didn’t matter anymore though, she was about to make up for that mistake. From the bio monitor of the Seeker that she had set loose on Southern Ontario, she saw that it was currently fighting as its blood pressure and all that was fairly high. Soon the signal would come through and they’d know where the guy was and then, then another threat to the mundanes of the world would be eliminated.

“10... 9... 8...” She smiled slowly and tried to restrain herself from gripping too hard on the folder in her hands. This was going to be it. “7... 6...” The count stopped. She stared. What happened? Then the voice went over the PA again. “Signal recieved, 5 seconds ahead of schedule.” Sandra grinned. The dot on the map flashed distinctively over the northern Greater Toronto Area. She had him. Quickly her walkie-talkie flashed into her hand from its previous home at the leather belt around her waste. She switched it on and ignored the brief static that erupted from it.

“Harry, this is Colonel Rosen, get the troops ready, we’ve got him.”

Nothing.

She stared at the device and shook it a couple of times. “Harry?”

Again, silence greeted her. What the hell was going on? She muttered several obscene words in various languages and began stalking to the exit door of the room. That idiot was probably fucking one of the privates (no pun intended) again. She would have to give him hell for this one. Her hand grabbed the knob and swung the door open as she was ready to charge right out to destroy a certain Lt. Harold Thompson, which apparently wasn’t neccesary as his dead body came tumbling out of the now-open doorway. She gasped as she saw his blank eyes staring at her then his stiff body flop to the floor. Brain fried. Shit. She was about to back away when she realized she couldn’t move. Slowly, not on her own free will, her eyes moved up from the dead body on the floor to rest upon a man in his 20s standing in front of her. His pitch black trenchcoat seemed to absorb all the light in the room, creating an illusion of perfect darkness. He smiled, it wasn’t a pleasent smile. Calmly a hand lifted and brushed back a jet black strand of hair that had somehow managed to come loose from his long ponytail. She tried to swallow, but since she couldn’t move a muscle, it didn’t really work.

He was a nightmare borne into reality, a wraith in the night she had tried to destroy in the past. But it hadn’t worked then, and he was here now. She had never thought this could happen. She was in the 3rd most secure installation in the northern hemisphere. It was all because of him that she was here anyways. His corruption of her sister had caused her hatred of Gifteds and been the reason she had joined up with this organization and subsequently, participated in a number of very heated chases to track him down. She had seen his handiwork, seen his large harem of horny subservient girls, and she had even talked to a few. Even amoung the most sadistic of all the Gifted’s she knew, he stood out as a man amoungst boys. It wasn’t just that he enslaved girls, or that he loved fucking with people’s minds and personalities, all of those idiot Gifteds did that. He was beyond simple mischief, he was cold, calculating, he laid traps, counter-measures, and he didn’t appreciate being hunted. Inwardly she screamed, wishing that it would somehow break through to the outside world. She had dreamt about him on occasion, nightmares, a hellish fantasy she would wake up crying from, and now they were a reality. Her demon, her sister’s violater, her living nightmare that while she had so fervently pursued she had inwardly dreaded beyond all else, was here.

It was funny, she had faced off against so many evils in her life, so many Gifteds had she destroyed, and she had never once been afraid. She had even been on the brink of a mindwipe against Trent and later Colt. Not only had she escaped both fates, she had never once lost her cool, never once been afraid. She had always known fear though. It was like a passing thought, something you could never get your hands on. She had seen it well enough in her dreams. A dark figure in the shadows reaching out for her. A faceless devil, a faceless foe, something she could not kill with guns or rays. She had always thought it merely a paranoid thought, nothing could make her afraid. Somehow confronting the man in front of her now had never worried her. Then again, it had always been over some sort of media device which was properly secured and screened. It had never been face to face. And now she looked into his dark eyes, saw that dreaded smile and felt that ever beckoning hand of fear. The figure had a face, and it was here now. She wanted to scream, to swear, but only one word came to mind and only one word could be spoken. The word that described her terror, the name she gave to evil.

“Tempest.”

V.

Of course, the gravity of the whole situation had not escaped Tempest either. He knew exactly what today meant. Revenge. He had been chased down by this damn organization long enough, and especially by Rosen. She deserved a fate far worse than her sister had gotten, far far worse. At least her sister hadn’t burnt his mansion down, nor shot a bullet through his skull. He smiled cruelly at the sight of the frightened woman in front of him. This was going to be sweet. “Why colonel, aren’t you happy to see me?” Silence, he grinned, of course, she couldn’t answer. Calmly he released his hold on her speech abilities. He left her standing, while strolling calmly around the building observing the commotion around him. No one moved to stop him, no one could... move that is, he had taken control of the bodies of every person in the room. There was a peculiar silence. He turned around and glared at Sandra. “Well, you’re being rude aren’t you? Shouldn’t you be trying to make conversation? You know, distract the bad guy into making a mistake?”

She bit her lip in stubborness, she wasn’t about to play his mind games.

Tempest grinned, defiance wasn’t a word in his dictionary. “Ok then Colonel, if you want to play it that way. I’ll do the talking for both of us, from now on until I tell you to stop, you must say whatever you want to say to me, you can’t hold anything back, but I don’t want to hear every fucking thought going through your mind? Got it? Now, do you have any idea why I’m here?”

She tried to stop the words from escaping her lips, but failed miserably. “Revenge?”

He chuckled at her inability to resist, but his tone was far from amicable. “Not revenge, justice. You and your organization have caused me quite a lot of pain you know that? I’ve had to move several times since you people keep burning down the houses I occupy. And what’s with deprogramming my girls? It’s taken me quite a lot of effort to reprogram them, and with all the added security I’ve put into their minds, the process takes even longer. On top of that, you’ve left me on the edge of death quite a number of times thanks to your... toys.” He said the word with the disgust of a man who respected open combat much more than the use of weapons. “And finally, you continue to pursue me and beyond that, mock me anytime we get a chance to talk over some form of communication which you always scramble with, again, your toys. So yes, I DO indeed have a bone to pick with you fuckheads and especially, my dear Sandra, with you, the queen bitch of this organization for the entire Eastern seaboard.”

The expression on her face was priceless. “Oh come now, did you think your little secret club is THAT good that I couldn’t crack your little codes and databases? Arrogance doesn’t become you. No wonder I got in so easily. Did you think that being under a lake would stop me? I’d go through solid rock if it meant you and this penny-ante outfit’s destruction. Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against who you work for. Nor do I care that you’re going around trying to exterminate us Gifteds, hell, I’ve exterminated my fair share, so I’m not going to be all ‘it’s nothing personal’, it’s VERY personal. You fucked with me, you fucked with my life, the life I was trying to build, the life I FUCKING DESERVE! You’ve done everything up to try to kill me. Trust me, this is very personal. Normally, I’m a nice guy, I try to help out, give back to the community, make a few nice happy couples here and there. Yes, I turn a few girls into sluts, and yes, I do have my own personal harem, including your lovely and very insatiable sister, Mellissa. But those that are turned into sluts, or even into my slaves, deserve it. They are atoning for their sins. See, I’m not a bad guy, I don’t like to do bad things, but with you assholes, I have no choice. If I am a monster, it’s because you’ve made me a monster. So if you’re wondering if I plan to kill you, or rape you or have you turn into a slut or something like that, you’re damn right I will. I WILL rape you, I WILL subjegate you to unending humiliation and yes, finally when all is said and done, when your mind and body are both completely burnt out and you would like nothing more than to give yourself totally to me, I WILL KILL YOU. And not simply kill you, for that would be a fate far, far too lenient, I will drag out your death, with every Gifted ounce of strength I have, I will make your skin boil, your eyes melt, or whatever else I’ve figured out by then. You know that Greek God who pissed everyone off and had to be chained up with a raven eating at his liver each day, and each night the liver would grow back for the raven? That will seem like a good fuck compared to what I promise to do to you.”

Sandra wanted to scream again, not at what would be happening to her, she had resigned herself to that fate a long time ago, but at the fact that she was completely helpless in her own body, a feeling that was worse than anything she had ever felt, or thought she would feel. He was quite the maniacal villain, complete with evil villain ranting and all. She wanted to reach her hand just 2 inches lower, get the gun from its holster at her waist and put lead through his brain, but instead all she could do was talk to him, like he commanded. “What’d my sister ever do to you? How can anyone deserve what you’ve done to them?”

“How can anyone deserve what you’ve done to them?” His voice was high-pitched and mocking. “Oh no Mr. Tempest, you’ve turned a bunch of cock-teases, who flaunt their popularity and looks to get through life into a bunch of cock-hungry-sluts who have to USE their looks and bodies to get them through their life. How terrible, how cruel...” The mocking tone stopped abruptly, replaced by his dead-serious, ‘I will kill you’ one. “How... utterly... fitting.” He turned to look at her. “Your sister was a sophomore at a highschool when I met her. She was a cheerleader, but I’m sure you knew that already, your family was probably gushing over her for making the team.” He paused for effect. “Team.” Tempest repeated the word with contempt. “They make it sound like it’s an actual sport that requires skill. Yeah, lots of skill there, shaking tits and ass. Lots of girls do it at strip bars and you don’t see their mommies and daddies jumping for joy. Her second year and she was fitting in quite nicely. I imagine, from the way she was acting, trying so hard to belong to that elite group of people at the top of the social hierarchy, that she wasn’t very popular as a freshman. No doubt she hadn’t hit puberty yet, because with a body like that, it would be hard not to pick up some horny brain-dead jock who wanted a nice piece of innocent, virgin tail. Let me guess, as a freshman, she was geeky looking, probably wore glasses or something, as she had contacts when I met her. She had an acne problem, those growing pains can be something, and was short and flat. Maybe she had a weight problem, or some abnormal growth sticking off the side of her head.” He gazed into Sandra’s eyes, delving for a response. “No? Ok, maybe just the flatness, acne and glasses. Nothing to be proud of obviously. But also, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Still, she, like a lot of other girls in this wretched society, was ashamed, very ashamed. Hated her body no doubt. Was depressed, jealous, that sorta thing? Her friends from grade school probably all had breasts and boyfriends already, and where did that leave poor Melissa? Nowhere I bet, wishing that she had friends. Oh, I’m sure she had a few people that wanted to be her friends, and I’m sure she hung out with them, but I bet inwardly, she never truly liked them. They were people who weren’t popular, who weren’t good looking or attractive. They were people who didn’t play sports, or had big muscles, or nice cars, or any cars. People like me. She was probably wishing she had popular friends, ignoring her true ones. Until one day, more than likely over the summer break, a miracle happened. She blossomed, practically over night.” Sandra opened her mouth to protest, possibly at the accuracy or lack thereof of the story but Tempest shut her up with a single mental command. “I’m telling the story.” he grumbled angrily. “Now I imagine she was quite enthused about this sudden change in her fortune. She probably was looking in the mirror every day, checking herself out, seeing how she looked. Her skin probably started clearing up too; she was becoming what she wanted, and acting like she deserved this. I bet she bugged your parents about getting contacts too and new clothes. No doubt she tried to change her image completely. When school started again, she was a totally different person. She wanted to hang at the top, to date the quarterbacks, the running backs, the halfbacks, the hunchbacks, whatever, but the thing was that she more than likely didn’t want to lose her virginity. Yet, she liked the attention, so she would flaunt her T&A and get herself the status she wanted but pull back from it at the last second. A veritable “I’m saving myself for marriage,” cock-tease. And you’d THINK that she would at least thank her REAL friends for standing by her while she was unpopular, but of course, she’d just ignore them and pretend they never existed. So don’t tell me she did not deserve this. She practically begged for it.”

Sandra’s speaking ability returned with a bang at that. “You asshole!!! How could you possibly say she deserved any of it!? She was a sweet, caring girl! She was so nice; she helped in a lot of charity drives. Mellissa was pure and chaste; you are just a jealous mother-fucker because of your loser childhood.”

He forbid her to say anymore. “It’s hardly jealousy my dear. Far from actually. I’ve gotten over my past. I’ve realized that it is indeed what is inside that counts. But your sister will never realize these things. She thinks she’s on top of the world because of her looks and her body. She thinks that her body will get her nothing but happiness. So I have granted her that wish. She lives and dies on that body now. Her mind is nothing more than a tool to figure out how to pleasure people, namely me. She thinks that her body will get her happiness, it does now. All she wants is sex, all she craves is sex. She teased. Well, if she wasn’t willing to give it she should never have offered. You see, it’s not jealousy, or revenge that this is all about, but justice. They want perfect bodies, I’ve given it to them. They treasured it above intelligence and above personality, and so those are controlled by me now since they think those qualities have no value. And you have tormented me for this, chased me across half of the civilized world and fought me through the other half. And so, I will have my justice at last Sandra.” He brushed back some of her long, light brown hair that had broken free of its bun. Tempest grinned evilly. “Your trial is about to begin my darling, and in my court, I am judge, jury and executioner.”

VI.

VII.

Rick groaned inwardly in annoyance, a feeling that had long since replaced anger or fear as since he had gotten the Gift nothing could bring back those feelings again. Well, maybe Colt. But this wasn’t the time to be thinking about him. It had seemed so simple. Walk in, cause mayhem, have great sex, leave. Well, simple if Cassie hadn’t instantly become attracted to him and decided to flirt with him and talk his friggin ear off. But of course, being the stupid popular bitch that she was, it had happened. He hated such people. He had had his fill of them in highschool, but it was by just listening to them flirt with others, now that he was right in the line of fire, he realized, it was so much worse. He had hoped to be able to play it along for a while, make it more interesting, but at this point, he couldn’t stand it anymore. “Shut the fuck up bitch, that mouth has better uses.”

Silence. He sighed in relief. About goddamned time too. Although everybody staring at him wasn’t much of an improvement, at least he was in control. He turned to the males. “Ok guys, I know what you were talking about, so I’ll get right to the point.” He pulled out a knife, or at least to them it looked like a knife, in reality he hadn’t pulled out anything, but of course, that was the beauty of mind manipulation. “So who’s first to stop me?” Of course, they froze. Rick smiled, it must all seem so unreal to them. He grinned as no one made a move. He hadn’t really made them scared of him or anything, he just took the scenario that was playing in each of their minds about being stabbed and killed and enhanced it, kind of like taking a black and white film and adding some colour and special effects, it seemed so much more real now. Rick chuckled. “Didn’t think so.” He turned back to the girls. They weren’t moving. He grumbled, of course, he had paused them all. He let out a sigh and clapped his hands once for effect. “Ok girls, you can move now. I know you have lots of stuff to complain and bitch and whine about. And you’re probably wondering who I am, so I might as well tell you. I am God. Or at least I will be YOUR God quite soon.”

Still, even now granted their, albeit somewhat limited freedom, the girls said nothing. They were still letting the words sink in. Finally, after what seemed like several minutes and was in reality, several minutes, Karen spoke up. “You asshole! Who do you think you are? You can’t just walk in here with a knife! I’m going to call the police!”

Rick shrugged. “If you want, I’ll help.” Chuckling inwardly, he took a deep breath and yelled out “POLICE!” Nobody laughed. He sighed. “Philistines.” Oh well, so he wasn’t a comedian, that wasn’t why he had come anyways. “Hmm, which one of you girls are virgins?” He looked around and grinned as they all raised their hands (he had forced them to be totally truthful). “Well, that was easy wasn’t it? You know what girls? You’re really missing a lot. I mean, this whole religion thing, it’s a big sham. That’s right, you heard me. It’s just made up by a lot of boring people who lived boring lives and wanted others to live boring lives as well.” They just stared more. “You don’t believe me?” He snapped his fingers.

That was the moment that Andrea would forever remember that changed her life. At that point she had never even thought of sex, and usually not guys either. Sometimes she would, but it didn’t really interest her, she didn’t know why everybody talked about sex, until it hit her. She didn’t know what happened but she felt something filling her down there, which was impossible as she still had her pants on, but it was happening nonetheless. And she liked it too! It felt so good, God how good it felt. She closed her eyes as pleasure washed over her and she just moaned in total contentment as she felt her pussy slowly get pumped in and out by this invisible thing in her. Wait. Something was happening. Being sexually inexperienced, she had no idea what it was, except that her pleasure was increasing and something seemed to be coming, like an angry band of raiders that was getting closer and closer to crossing over the horizon. Oh God... Godd.. it was almost there, almost... “AHHHHHHH!!!!!” Almost at the same time her and all the other girls in the room screamed out collectively in their first orgasm of their lives. Oh God did that feel good. She collapsed on the ground panting.

Rick smirked, he had always liked addicting people to sex. “Well, it seemed you all enjoyed that. On to round 2. Everybody undress.” As if on cue everybody in the room, male and female aliked stripped down until they were totally naked. “Girls, you want more?” Still recovering from their orgasms, all the females could do was nod meekly. He looked at the guys who were all very hard by now. “They look like they’re ready for some action, ladies, how about it?” Although all of the girls had lust burning in their eyes, none of them made a move. Which made the guys wonder if Rick had controlled them again, but that wouldn’t make sense, so why?

Andrea cleared up the mystery a second later. “Are they supposed to be that small? That doesn’t look like it could reach what I just felt.” The guys were in a state of disbelief, this was Andrea speaking? Of course they didn’t know that to Andrea that single orgasm was like a revelation to her, that it opened up a whole new life for her, it was like she had been reborn, and the old shy, afraid Andrea was gone.

Rick grinned and unzipped his pants showing off his gift-enhanced 12 inch member which immediately caught the eye of every girl in the room. “I think you’re looking for something like thi... URGH” Rick had no warning at all as Andrea jumped him and started riding his cock for all she was worth, moaning and panting and moaning some more as she got herself off on his monster penis. The humiliated and beaten look in the eyes of the guys was priceless, Rick grinned (as much as he could grin while being fucked by this newly born sex monster on top of him), it was a true kodak moment. Slowly with one finger he beckoned Cindy over to his face and she eagerly padded over and sat down. He nearly suffocated. Shit, he forgot to reduce her weight. Originally the plan was to do some long complicated dialogue with her in which he’d do it as a gift to her, but at this point, it was life and death. Quickly, he reached out to her body and reduced the fat in her body until she was not only bearable enough for him to eat but also had the body of a super model, of course it wasn’t perfect, but changes could always be made later. He looked over quickly before he started licking Cindy’s now perfect pussy in earnest. Excellent, they were right where they were supposed to be. He went back to his job and soon Cindy’s screams could be heard echoing down the deserted church hallways. And despite all this, all the sex, the noise, everything, Cassie and Tracy hadn’t budged from their previous positions, frozen in a post orgasmic state. Rick cackled inwardly right before Andrea tightened around his cock in her 10th orgasm in the past few minutes, this one finally enough to bring him over, he would deal with them soon, just after... “Uhhhhhhhh” Rick’s low groan mixed with Andrea’s screams of “OH GOD YES YES YES YESSSS!” and Cindy’s constant bestial orgasmic noises to become something that would sound beautiful to maybe someone with a severe hearing deficiency. Maybe.

Slowly it ended, and Rick came down from his orgasmic high and back to Earth. He quickly rolled out and pushed Andrea and Cindy to sit down on the floor and behave. He looked at Tracy and quickly let go of her mind freeze. Almost immediately her body unfroze from its previous state and she blinked once trying to get a hold of what happened, as she had seen everything but couldn’t move to participate. And participate she wanted to. Consumed with a lust caused by her first ever orgasm, Tracy lay down and spread her legs like a cheap whore.

Rick acted shocked. “Tracy what are you doing?”

The flat-chested girl looked confused and somewhat disappointed. “I.. I thought you were going to rape me.”

Rick chuckled. “Tracy, look at yourself. Look at your chest, or lack there of. Do you think anyone, much less me, would want to fuck you? Get real.”

The words sliced through the young woman like so many shards of glass. She started sobbing as all her confidence, all those years of being sure of her looks and feeling proud of her body and liking herself, everything she ever believed in herself, was washed away. Yet in that torrent of despair, she realized, there was indeed some, if not a lot, of truth floating around. She was ugly. Well, not her face, but her body. God, why had she spent all her life deluding herself? Her chest. It was all about that. Forget all that shit about inner beauty. What inner beauty? What good was inner beauty if she’d never get a chance to fuck, to use her body, to use other people’s bodies! It was at that point when she made her decision. It suddenly seemed so clear, like her destiny had been shown to her. She’d get implants, first, definitely. She’d need new clothes, a new look. And then... and then she’d show them. She’d fuck more men than anyone ever had. She’d show them all. She was going to improve. Be better! It’d take all her money, possibly more, but it didn’t matter, everything would be fine after. She got up, dressed and turned to leave, to start her new life when a voice attempted to bring her down to reality.

“Tracy. What are you doing?”

She turned to face John, her boyfriend. She scoffed at the title. Some boyfriend. Boy was right, the guy was so pathetically endowed how could he ever hope to please her. “I’m going to get the life I want John. Rick is right, I’m disgusting, I need to change.”

John looked shocked and hurt at the same time, a curious mixture of emotions that Rick loved to see on people’s faces. It was like art to him, something he had crafted and molded. “T...Tracy.” His voice caught. It seemed so... impossible. How could Tracy act like this? He cared about her so much, and to watch her throw her life away. It was amazing, but now, in this situation, he loved her more than ever, more than he cared about himself, he would do anything for her. It was, of course, impossible for John to know that Rick had upped his love for Tracy by about 10 times. “I... love you. I love you the way you are. You look wonderful. You don’t need to go anywhere. I’ll always be here for you.”

Tracy snorted at that. “I’m sorry “little” John, but you just don’t cut it. You can stay with me, or not, but I’m leaving. You can come if you want, but I only want a REAL man in me, and when I get my new tits you should know you don’t deserve them. But you can always watch me with other men. So? Are you coming?” She looked at her watch impatiently as if this was just an inconvenience and nothing more.

John closed his eyes and wished this wasn’t happening, not to him, not now, not ever. He wished he could do something. But he couldn’t, he wasn’t good enough for her, but he loved her so much, she still meant so much to him. In the end, he had no choice. Lowering his head in shame he muttered the one word that would change his life forever. “Yes.”

Rick laughed a laugh that would make villains from Flash Gordon proud as the door slammed shut behind Tracy and her new cuckholded boyfriend. It was his revenge. Tracy would spend her time obsessing over her looks and wanting to prove herself as a real slut every second of her life while John would do nothing but be her little man slave. Money would be tight. John would probably have to work two or three jobs to support her new life. Not that she might not end up in white slavery anyways or something. He shrugged. Shit happened. But this is what they get for being in his way. Besides, none of this had been caused by his direct influence. Just a few comments here, a major orgasm there and a bit of love enhancement and he had just ruined the lives of 2 very promising young people. And he was about to ruin another one.

He glanced over at Cassie, the sweet, beautiful Cassie, the popular Cassie, the soon to be forever-trapped-in-a-living-hell Cassie. He waved a hand in yet another of his useless yet very cool looking physical gestures to mark his mental touch upon her mind. As the hand glided smoothly through the air, her body began to unlock itself and slowly she could move again, but before she could say anything, Rick had begun to exact his living hell on her. “Cassie, since you like to flirt so much. I’ve decided to grant your wish. In a way. You constantly flirt and pull back, so I figure, you like the attention, but you hate sex right?” He didn’t pause for effect but instead kept right on going. “So I think it’s only fair to make you crave sexual attention, because from now on, you will do anything possible for sex, for attention, you’ll flirt and tease and everything. But, when you actually have sex, it’ll be the most painful and excruciating experience of your life. However, I doubt if many men will let that bother them, nor will they decide NOT to take you after you’ve so thoroughly offered yourself to them. And this will continue for... well... forever. No, I’m not kidding either, I’ve added some new features to your body. You’ll never age, for one. For another, I’ve put a small program in your brain to scan the minds of males near you and change your form to suit them, so you’ll always be guaranteed a male whore. And of course, other health bonuses to make sure that with your new found immortality, you live forever.” He cackled a little more at the thought of her suffering like that. “So my little whore, before I send you off on your new life, any last words?”

Her personality and mind returned to her for the moment, Cassie gathered her wits and tried her best not to cry, but it was hard, what type of life would she have from now on? To be a whore for the rest of her life, of eternity! And she wouldn’t even ever enjoy it, wouldn’t ever feel the heavenly bliss of an orgasm again. She opened her mouth to say something, something grand, something that would save her sorry tight ass, but only one word came out. “Why?”

Rick gave a small shrug. “It’s simple really. Because you were in the wrong place, at the wrong time. Because you remind me of every girl I’ve ever hated in my life. Because you never shut up. But when it comes down to it, because... I... can.” And with that all her will and thought and personality was enslaved once again and she walked out, ready to fuck the first man she saw.

Finally done his dirty deeds, Rick stuffed his now flaccid dick back in his pants, rezipped them and prepared to walk off with his new fuck toys, Andrea and Cindy, when he remembered the boys cowering in the corner, still in shock of what had happened. He smiled and enhanced their emotions of humiliation, of failure, of being immasculated in front of the women they professed to care about. A knife appeared in each of their hands suddenly. Not a real knife, but if it was real enough that it could fool their brains, then it would still have the same effect. And that, he thought, was possibly one of the most powerful new abilities he had. Slowly he raised his hands, and as he did so, their hands moved with his, bringing the knife up, slowly tracing the areas to slice, dice and destroy. It was like they were an orchestra and he was the conductor. It was so absolutely fucking beautiful. His hands reached their peak and he turned to leave. It was time to send a message to Colt, to make him know that Rick Evans, his worst nightmare come true, was back in his life.

The night air smelt brilliant as it danced upon his nostrils, signaling his clearance from the old building that was the church. He grinned inwardly, it was going to be so beautiful, he wished he could see it, could see his own handiwork, see his own art. And so Rick Evans walked out of the church, two beautiful naked girls holding on to either arm and the confidence of a billion successes inside him. A few more steps, and then suddenly, he stopped. Slowly he looked to the ground, closed his eyes and brought his hands down hard to his side, ending the symphony and starting it at the same time. And inside the church, a message was being sent, a message that would catch Colt’s eye, and up the ante in their private little war. That is, it would have, if Colt was around to see it.

VIII. (Somewhere in Ohio)

Tick. The girl’s eyes were calm. She sat perfectly still, again, calm, her legs crossed beneath her. Her hands were in her lap and her head aimed straight forward, her eyes unfocussed as if staring at something not really there. Tick. Her breathing was perfect; the air from her nose coming at exact intervals, and her chest rose and fell at those same periods. It was as if she wasn’t really there at all, as if her entire body was set on automatic. Tick. The sight was incredible. Not just because she was the ultimate sex object that was obvious to anybody with half a brain and a dick, but also because of how statuesque and serene she looked sitting there like a real life Buddha contemplating the secrets of the universe. Well, if Buddha had two X chromosomes, 36-D breasts, an unrealistically tight, firm ass, and wore a french maid’s outfit complete with fishnet stockings. Tick. It was like The Thinker meets Playboy except with a slightly more malevolent tone. And yes, despite how she looked, it was malevolent. Tick. Not just in that the current room was a dingy basement of what he thought was an extravagant mansion and not just that the contents were nothing more than a racks upon racks of canned beans, a step ladder and a beaten up old box sitting in the corner. Tick. It was something more, something about this case. His attentions turned back to the girl. So quiet, so peaceful.

Colt sighed. Tick. Appearances could be, and tended to be, deceiving. This girl, whatever her name was currently, was certainly not at peace. Tick. She just looked it. It was a terrible punishment being a prisoner in your own mind, not being able to control your actions or your feelings yet in full control of your consciousness. Tick. It was not at all unlike a pilot who although sitting in the cockpit was not the one flying the plane. Painful especially when your body was being used as a whores, and worse. Tick. He shuddered at the thought. Disgust wasn’t something Colt had felt in a very long time, not since the Gift anyways. It was amazing how having the ability to control minds, turn women into sex objects, and all that good stuff, could strengthen one’s stomach. Tick. But this... this had to be one of the worst cases he’d had ever seen. Usually he understood the motives behind the criminals he pursued, they were mostly unpopular young people who wanted revenge on those that oppressed them, or they were seeking to improve their life, or simply to just get fucked every day. Tick. It was all very clean cut, very simple. But this one, this... Steve, as was the only name that he was known by, was something truly different, something truly... horrific? Tick. No, not horrific, he thought, more along the lines of incredibly disturbing, something which left a lingering taste in the mouth, like the ending of The Usual Suspects. Something which didn’t sit quite right. Tick. He stopped his line of thought for a second and probed the girl’s mind. Hmmm. Not quite state of the art defence in here, but still, some heavy shields blocking his access. Nothing to be afraid of though. Tick. There was however, some strange background noise, probably just random brain wave activity though. It sounded odd. TH’D R XCRA! He shrugged it off and kept working. Tick.

Colt had first heard of the existence of Steve a month ago, when his sister’s ex-friend, ex-lover, Tricia Naples, whose looks he had since changed back to normal, just suddenly vanished. Tick. Being the good brother he was, Colt naturally decided to do some investigating as Sheri was understandably worried, even though she and Tricia were no longer friends (due to extenuating circumstances covered in part 5 of Alien’s Gift involving Tricia’s memory wipe by Colt). The investigation turned out to be harder than he thought. He had found nobody with any recollection of seeing her kidnapped. Tick. In fact, he had found nobody who even remembered she existed, up to, and including, her parents. And the more he investigated, the more puzzling it got. Tick. There was no sign of tampering with people’s memories, which meant that either he had been dreaming for the past 5 years of his life, or somebody had very expertly removed those memories from their minds. It obviously couldn’t have been a mindwipe, those were easily detectable and left traces. Tick. He had tried everything he knew to find some trace of who did it, but after nights on end of not sleeping trying to work it out, he was left with no more answers than when he started. And of course, several more questions. These things had a tendency not to be very tidy. Tick. The mindshield wouldn’t budge. Fuck. He tried again. TH’S R XCRP! Tick. He had even considered trying to find Trent and asking him to help, that is, until he realized that FINDING Trent probably would take him even more time and effort. But as annoying as the guy was, and as comparitively weak he was giftwise, even Colt had to admit that when it came to knowing his way around the human mind, nobody, anywhere, was more adept and more creative than Trent Cheung, a fact that he only grudgingly admitted on rare occasions. Tick. Still, this was a rather desperate situation and he couldn’t find the guy. It wasn’t until he had heard about this man who claimed to have seen a guy do strange things to a girl that he actually stumbled (albeit rather clumsily) onto Steve’s trail. Tick. That was when he finally learnt about his existance, about this man who took pleasure in the degradation and humiliation of girls. A man who loved to slowly break and enslave girls to be his slaves, sex or otherwise. Tick. From that one witness, Colt slowly began to expand his knowledge by finding more people who had some memory, witnesses that Steve had not known were there. As well, he would access any security cameras he could find, bypassing the Gifted messages that Steve had sent to those video screens. Hmm. This shield was a lot trickier than he had first thought. IH’S R XRRP! Tick.

Colt sighed. When he had first started this little mission, it all seemed like a simple thing to him. Even when he had found out how good at covering his tracks this Steve was, it still didn’t seem that hard. Tick. But the more he dug into it the more he realized that he was involved in a much bigger picture than he had originally thought. There were different mansions and homes for Steve all over the US. Tick. Colt had tracked him through Kentucky, Illinois and Texas so far, but he had no idea how many hideouts this guy had. He was hoping that this one in Ohio would be the one, but apparently he was wrong. Tick. Still, he hoped that he was close to nailing this asshole. And he WAS an asshole. It wasn’t simply sex he was after, but somehow he got some sort of sick rush out of using and degrading women. Tick. He had seen so many of this guy’s “toilet girls” that Colt didn’t even bother eating lunch or supper before going into one of these mansions. The buzzing in the background continued. Tick. It was annoying and he’d wish it’d stop, he needed to concentrate dammit. IH’S A XRRP! The idea of using a girl simply to excrete and piss in still disgusted him, even after all the sickos he had encountered in the past. Tick. It was just that none of the other Gifteds he had encountered had ever been this malicious, this callous and this dangerous. And yes, dangerous did describe Steve too. Tick.

Physical force wasn’t something Colt was too used to when dealing with these mentally Gifted villains. Yeah, Trent had a tendency to use physical force in battles, but that wasn’t quite the same as what Steve tended to do. Tick. The first mansion he had come to, Colt had almost been killed by poisonous vines surrounding the house that had been Giftedly altered to be deathly toxic upon one touch. That already was pretty out of line in Colt’s book. But the nerve toxin that had flooded the second mansion had really made him hate this guy. Tick. Steve seemed ready to kill anyone and everyone just to have his little bit of fun. It was like this whole thing was a game to him. Tick. Colt was getting pissed off just thinking about it. He kept working. When he finally found Steve, he would make him pay, for everything that he had done and for whatever it was he had probably done to Tricia. Tick. Colt felt responsible in a way for Tricia, as he felt that had he not interfered in her mind in the first place she might have ended up living a normal life. Gifted interference, even if deleted, sometimes drew other Gifteds to the person, whether out of curiousity or just because they felt that it would be easier to penetrate a second time. He chuckled dryly. Tick. Just like sex. The buzzing continued, like the dripping of water from a tap in the background. Colt ignored it and kept plugging away at the shield. Tick. He would find Steve, and he would hurt him. This could not go unpunished. Tick. And Colt continued at his slow and ardous task at hand, thinking hateful and malevolent thoughts, not knowing of the death that awaited him so close at hand and ultimately, not learning from his mistakes of the past. Tick. He had underestimated the situation he had gotten himself into with Steve already, and in all his anger and all his hatred, Colt Winters had forgotten to learn anything from that. He kept going, ignoring his surroundings and ignoring the sounds in the background, both in the mind and in the room. Tick. And with each second, with each moment spent on the task at hand and not on noticing the minute intricacies of the current circumstances, his doom drew closer. Sometimes you have to see the big picture, and sometimes you have to notice the details. Tick.

IX.

The complex was huge, and metallic. Trent was still amazed at how sci-fi-ish it looked, even after so many visits. Its walls were metallic, its ceiling was metallic, hell, even the floors and doors were metallic. He sighed. Somehow these secret government complexes all had to look like something out of X-files, or Star Trek, or something. He supposed that if one were going to build something top secret and special, one might as well give the feeling to their employees that they were top secret and special. This place certainly made people feel special. Like a caged rat. He sighed again and kept walking. The guard was rude. He let out another sigh. One would think that in this day and age, inside a government complex that was dealing with impossibly tough odds, guards would be much nicer to visitors. He almost wished he could have mindwiped the guy. Almost. The machine gun mounted sensors hanging off the walls and ceilings made him remember where he was. Any use of the Gift and he would be filled with more lead than the head of a cheerleader. He continued his stroll until he saw the all too familiar glow of the chamber he had grown to know so well. The voice was familiar too, that female soprano of youth that had intertwined with it experience and a tiredness that belied the girl’s superficial lack of age. He looked down the railing and saw her, looking concerned as always, reading reports as always, and typing at a small black laptop, as always. Trent wondered if she ever slept. Or ate. Or fucked. He stepped gingerly into the metal lift and pressed the button that would take him to the lower floor of this room. Even after all this time, the lift bothered him. Something about the way it moved so smoothly up and down worried him. It was like it was TOO perfect, that there wasn’t enough turbulence in between to deem it a normal machine. Like the kid with no flaws that every teacher loved in grade school. Nobody liked perfection.

The lift landed and he stepped out. If the woman noticed him approaching her, she didn’t show it. Even now, he couldn’t tell whether she was simply absent-minded or just didn’t like giving up an advantage when she had one. He approached her quietly and leaned against a control panel until she “noticed” him. He still couldn’t believe how she looked after all this time. It wasn’t like she was astoundingly beautiful or anything. She was good looking, yes, but that wasn’t it. It was just the shock at seeing; talking to and being in the presence of a beautiful young woman he had always known as a not-so-beautiful, middle-aged woman. Doctor Kathryn Silvers was one of the few mundanes he knew that were aware of the Gifted world that functioned just out of sight of the normal one.

He had first met her a while ago during his pursuit of a psychopathic Gifted named Vultan, whom he had found and killed with her help later on. She had been sent by the government as a specialist on who they had thought was just a mass rapist. Although she was unprepared for the severity of the events that followed, Trent was impressed by how she managed to survive while other much stronger and much tougher folk had perished or broken mentally. So he had left her memory intact, breaking the unwritten rule that most, if not all, Gifted’s followed, in order to protect they’re hidden world. She had popped back in and out of his life at various times after that, often tipping him off about a potential situation that needed his touch, or he would visit her for information. Things remained about the same until a little while ago when the resurrected Vultan had attempted to exact his revenge on her and implanted a virus inside her system that would slowly kill her. Trent had to act quickly and he thus had made her body younger in order for her to be healthier and stronger to fight off the virus and keep it at bay, for it had been specifically designed to target her older shell. To make sure that she wasn’t killed anytime soon he had also had to stop her aging process. It wasn’t very hard at all, it just was hard for HER to get used to, as her sex drive also returned twice as strong (another side effect of the virus) and perhaps that was why she always buried herself in her work. Either way, he was curious as to why she had called him over here today, as he was busily trying to repair the damage to his house caused from last night’s events.

She was quick to react to his query. In fact she was on her way to the door of another room right as he was asking it, beckoning him to follow. Trent shrugged, adjusted his black jacket and followed. What he saw next didn’t really surprise him, but it did turn him on a whole lot. A room full of girls, horny ones at that, possibly 10 or 20 of them. They were all writhing on their government issued beds (all metal except for the mattress of course) with their hands between their legs moaning to be fucked. It was what they wanted to be fucked WITH that caught his attention. He turned to face Doctor Silvers and gave her a questioning look. “Black cocks?”

The young looking woman nodded. “Yeah, that’s what they’ve been begging for since we found them.”

Trent looked at the sight and began his mind probe. “Hmm... It’s a simple mind alteration locked up with a basic thought code. Easy to break.” He blinked and the girls stopped moving and lay there sound asleep. “There, it’s all fixed, and I’ve set them to return home without any memory of what happened after this. So do we have any idea who this guy is?”

Dr. Silvers nodded. “Well, we have a few suspects that we think it could be.” She handed him a piece of paper with several names on it.

Trent looked it over. “It’s not those two at the bottom. I captured them not too long ago. And the one at the top is living a regular life on Long Island with no memory of his past courtesy of Colt. That leaves these two. I don’t know either. You have a file on them?”

Kathryn nodded again, too eagerly, thought Trent. In fact, the whole time she seemed very eager to please, almost bubbly. It was as if she was acting the age she looked. As Trent did a double check on the sheet, she bounded over to her laptop and recalled a couple of documents and then spun the monitor to face the Chinese teen. “Here, Walter Springer and Jerome Jackson.”

Trent studied the images of the two men intently. One was white and the other black. “Well, it could be either. My first inclination would be a not so well endowed black guy who’s read one too many interracial porn stories and once he had the Gift wanted to live those stories out.” He stared at Walter thoughtfully. “Then again, it could be a white guy who because of all the recent popular culture emphasis on black people, wants to be black and used the Gift to change himself.” He kept studying the profiles. “It’s Jerome.” He finally concluded.

Kathryn looked like a curious child. “Why do you say that?” She leaned over him to look at the picture again, to see if she missed anything.

Trent shuffled uncomfortably. He could swear she was feeling up his ass. “If it was the case of Walter the white guy who wanted to be black, he wouldn’t have let these girls go. He’d want to keep them around to dominate. Whereas, I believe that Jerome’s goal would be to get the girl’s “addicted” to black... ummm... dicks... like the porn stories he’d have read would have entailed.” He scrolled the mouse around. “Ummm.. do you guys have an address for him? Or at least a tentative one?”

She nodded eagerly and hopped off to grab another pad off a desk to the side. Trent was careful to keep his thoughts to himself this time around. He quickly clicked around the computer a little before his eyes lit up at a window he had just maximized. It was gone by the time the good doctor returned with his requested information.

Trent thanked her and committed the address to memory. “Okay, I’m going to go nail this guy ok? Thanks for your help again doctor.”

She smiled. “No problem Trent, any time.”

He nodded. “Get some sleep too, you look exhausted.”

“I will. Good hunting.”

Trent nodded once more, opened the door and quickly left.

Almost immediately, Kathryn jumped to the phone and dialed a phone number at light speed. A few rings later a deep male monotone answered.

“Hello?”

“It’s Kat.”

Jerome smiled. “Hello Kat. Did he fall for it?”

Doctor Silvers moaned at his voice. “Oh yes. He’s on his way.”

Another smile. She could hear it in his voice. “You’ve done well my little white slut. You’ll get your reward soon.”

Kathryn moaned some more. She had tried to resist him at first, but her body had overrode her mind. It was just so hard to control her renewed sex drive every day. At first she had tried to bury herself in work, but every day she could feel herself losing her precious grasp on her self-control. And now it was all gone, she was his cockslut, mind, body and soul. She didn’t want to at first. But his black cock was too good to resist. Now she knew that nobody else could satisfy her. He owned her pussy. Yes, pussy. The days of her thinking in terms of penises and vaginas were long gone. She moaned at the thought of him ramming his fat dick deep into her again. “Oh godd, please... I can’t wait. I need your big black cock.”

Jerome smiled and touched her mind. “Here’s a sample of what you’ll get later then slut.”

Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she started what was to be one in a series of massive orgasms, each greater than the last. Her screams echoed through the sound proof room and her juices flowed like a waterfall. And in the midst of all this sexual chaos, the closing of the door went unheard.

X.

The scene was bloody. Actually, bloody didn’t even begin to describe the image which greeted the cops that responded to a 911 at Greenwood Baptist Church. Downright brutal was more like it. Several young teenage boys, naked, cut open, apparently at their own hands. It was terribly gruesome and several of the rookie cops, and even some of the hardened, veteran ones, threw up their lunch at the scene. Alan Storm chuckled very slightly at that thought, as he knew many of those officers and had been on the recieving end of many of their lectures about how soft the youth of today were. He shrugged. Hey, he hadn’t yet thrown up. The dark haired teen in the dark leather jacket waited until some of the cops had cleared out before he began setting up.

The call had come in at mid-evening when a janitor had stumbled upon the eviscerated teens. They had been there for at least a day as nobody had thought to check up on that locked room. The cops had been busy looking for clues, but Alan knew they’d never find any. But then again, it hadn’t been them that had called him. He glanced at the middle-aged man next to him, a man in a dark suit and trenchcoat, looking at the gruesome sight without even blinking. That man was his sometimes friend, James Fox, OSO. Obviously the local cops had no idea what they were dealing with, but higher levels of investigation did. And Alan, being one of the best (and also the only) Private Investigator of Illegal Gifted Actions, Fox had often seen fit to call on him, and this situation was no different.

Storm quickly set up his scanning rods around the scene and activated them, flooding the area with high energy particles which would allow him to better use his next gadget. He pulled what looked to be a pair of binoculars out from his knapsack and strapped over his eyes and fiddled with some dials and buttons on it. Immediately, what looked to him like ribbons and hazes of various different colours and densities were revealed to him, the left over “shadows” from the usage of the Gift.

Fox was curious. “What do you see?”

Storm didn’t answer and pulled out from his jacket pocket, a small computing device that looked not unlike a Star Trek tricorder. He attached one of the wires to his headgear and switched it on. The readings he was fed back from the small device were interesting. He continued to adjust his viewer, allowing different frequencies to be scanned. Very interesting. High power level, medium skill. He removed his goggles and gently tapped a few buttons on the small device in his palm. Yep, he had been afraid of this. But unfortunately, the numbers didn’t lie. “Rick.” He said angrily as he shut the small box.

The OSO agent looked interested. “You sure?”

Storm began packing up. “Absolutely. I’d know his signature anywhere.” James got quiet and thoughtful. Alan looked up. “You’re wondering why aren’t you?” The older man nodded, still in deep thought. Storm got up and walked towards an area where the police were clearing away some of the bodies. Some of the officers tried to stop him but James waved them off. Alan pointed at a part of the floor littered with torn flesh. “You see that? It forms a word.”

Fox studied it closely. “Colt.” He grumbled. “So he’s back to settle the score.”

Storm nodded. “Looks like it. And if that’s so, I think the GJL is the next place he’ll hit. Except, Colt isn’t there, he’s on some sort of mission, and of course Jade is at that conference on Gifted biology in Denver. That leaves Sheri and the rest. But I doubt we’ll even get there in time. Rick isn’t one to move slowly. If he was planning to hit there, it’d already have been done. And if so, we shouldn’t count on any help from the Justice League.”

“So what are we going to do?” He looked concerned. Fox knew exactly what was going through Alan’s mind. It wasn’t easy to come full circle so to speak. He knew Alan’s story all too well, hell, he was there. He had met Alan while trying to track down Laura Peterson, a fellow OSO agent who had been missing for some time. Alan had been trying to find out where his girlfriend had disappeared to. Both trails ended up leading to Rick. Neither had been successful in stopping him either, except that Fox had managed to escape and ran into Colt, while Alan had been left to the mercy of Rick and Rick wasn’t one who was known for mercy. When Fox and Colt had found him, Alan was lying unconscious, on the verge of death, the victim of the biggest mental assault that Colt had ever seen. While Alan was still in his coma, Fox and Colt had went after Rick and nearly captured him had he not gotten the guards to shoot up the floor to aid his escape. Fortunately, they had recovered all the girls and Colt had managed to restore them to their previous selves. All except Amber, who had been Alan’s girlfriend for the past 5 years before Rick captured her. Amber had been Rick’s experiment. He had not only changed her, but he had physically altered her brain to fit those changes, not allowing any more space for intelligence or changes to his program. It hadn’t worked perfectly, but it was enough that Colt had no way of fixing it, not without taking several university level courses in neural biology at least. The brain wasn’t something to be tampered with physically, not even for a Gifted. When Alan had finally come out of his coma, he had woken up to a mere shell of the intelligent, beautiful girl he had first fell so deeply in love with. At first he had tried ardently to fix the damage, through talking to her, through caring, through love, but nothing worked. She wanted sex, and that was it. Eventually it had just weighed too much on him and Alan began sinking into a deep depression which later lead him to the brink of psychosis. He blamed the OSO for sending Amber into the fray, and later blamed every Gifted. Finally, he settled on just the Gifted’s that abused their power, and so a vigilante had been created. But he wasn’t just any normal mundane out to fight the Gifted criminals, because although Rick had hurt him, he had also helped him. Because of the massive psychic blow that he had suffered at the hands of the bastard, Alan’s mind and body had somehow adapted itself to be resistant to the Gift. He was the only normal human that couldn’t be touched by the power. And this made him the perfect person to wage a very personal war against those psychic criminals. Unfortunately, James had seen the young man take it way too far when apprehending the bad guys. And when it came to Rick. James had no idea what might happen and was all too afraid that Alan would end up causing more harm than good. He broke from his train of thought when he realized that Alan had not yet answered his question as he was throwing his bag over his shoulder after pulling something out. “So.” James repeated. “What are we going to do?”

Alan didn’t even look over his shoulder as he was still fiddling with something. “You’re going back to base. And I” He stood up, shut his shotgun closed and pumped it to load it. “Am going to take care of Rick.”

Epilogue:

Tempest smiled as he watched the former Col. Sandra Rosen desperately fuck herself with a cactus. As much as it hurt her and as much as she wanted to cry out from the intense pain, she also didn’t want to stop. Pleasure could no longer bring her to those orgasms she now so craved with all her being. She needed pain. And lots of it. She screamed at herself inside, but she knew at the same time, that with every successful cum, she was getting closer and closer to submitting. She had total free will at the moment, but already she didn’t want to stop. God, it hurt like hell, but she was so close... so close. She screamed as she came, a mixutre of blood and girlcum rushing out of her destroyed vagina. Tempest just stood there and laughed. He was past caring, and past morality, and past everything. He had been pushed to his limit and then crossed it. And it felt good. No moral qualms, no problems with suffering, just full knowledge that at this point in the game, anything went. He laughed some more and thought about all the girls he would have once he restored his mansion and his harem. He grinned, and then he’d find the rest of those government issued idiots and make each and every one of them pay dearly for daring to mess with Tempest. He looked up at the security camera trained on him and cackled.

The man behind the monitor smiled as he saw the dark clothed villain laughing at him. He was perfect for the task that was coming. Absolutely perfect. He tapped his fingers together and formulated another plan. It was going to happen soon. Not soon enough for him, but then again, nothing ever was. But soon nonetheless. And then everything would be different. He grinned and gestured to the girl standing beside him. “What do you think?”

She smiled. “A perfect choice, as always.”

He nodded. “Take care of it darling.” He pressed a button and the door behind him opened. He gestured to it, implying the direction of her exit.

Brandy nodded and with a few graceful steps left. He chuckled and kept observing Tempest. He only hoped that Colt, Rick and Trent, the other pawns in his game, would survive their respective fates so that he could crush them.

Eplogue II:

Sheri Winters struggled against her bonds, but to no avail as Rick had them tied on quite securly. She swore and kept squirming. It had all happened so fast. One minute she was busily finishing up some GJL reports that she had to send to yet another interested government bureau, hoping to get them done before the lesbian orgy upstairs ended, and the next, alarms were blaring everywhere as sensors indicated an intrusion by a Gifted. She had barely gotten to the monitor room when she heard the screaming, then the struggling, then the moaning and knew that someone had managed to defeat all the fairly powerful Gifted girls upstairs. It was at that point that she knew it was a guy. Somehow, males were stronger in the Gift than females were, though they had less agility and couldn’t link together to make themselves stronger. But still, they were more powerful, and in any direct assault, a male would win, and so she had drawn all her power to build herself the most powerful mindshield she could manage and was about to turn around to investigate when she ran face to face into Rick. Rick hadn’t even bothered to try to conquer her, as he had seen the shield, he just created his own shield and trapped her gift. She had tried to stop him physically but he had overpowered her there too. She swore again. Damn, he had gotten stronger. She remembered when her brother had easily put him down, when he was clumsy and inexperienced, but he had broken through the defences and members of the GJL easily and now, all the girls, except for her, were his loyal sex slaves.

She pulled against the metal cuffs again, but still they didn’t even so much as budge. She was horny too. This was not a good thing. She needed sex more than anything, but couldn’t have it. And that too was not a good thing because her judgement was getting more and more clouded. She only wished her brother would return home soon. Wait. She struggled against that horny wall that seemed to be obstructing her logic. It wouldn’t matter. Rick had destroyed their headquarters and moved them to his own place. She screamed in frustration. Colt would have to find Rick, and most likely Rick would choose to fight on his own turf, and that would spell doom for her brother. She kept struggling. Fuck. She needed to get out. Fuck. Fuck. God... She needed a good fucking. She moaned. Her nymphomania was something she wished now that she had turned off before checking the monitors, but she had been so anxious for that orgy that she hadn’t felt a need to stop her body prepping for it. And now, she was so horny she would do anything, or anyone. Except Rick. She mewled in frustration and instead her efforts were focussed on getting her hands between her legs from behind and stroking her aching cunt. She moaned as she felt her fingers tickle her lips. Yesss...

Rick watched with interest from an upstairs window as the beautiful Sheri masturbated herself to orgasm. It was too bad that he couldn’t break through that shield. But he didn’t need her for sex. Just as bait for Colt. And if her increased sexual drive would prevent her from forming any real plan to escape so be it. He sighed. It really was a shame. She was so intelligent and beautiful. But he knew that she would never like him, no matter how horny she was. He shrugged and turned back to his horny harem of girls. Oh well, c’est la vie. And as he buried his cock deep into Danielle, his mind kept drifting back to Sheri. She really was an amazing girl. It was too bad he still had... what was her name again? Oh yeah. Susan. It really was a shame.

Epilogue III:

Michael Williams screamed as another tendril wrapped itself around his arm, threatening to break yet another bone in his now very destroyed body. He cried, something he had not done in a long time. It was truly overwhelming. He hadn’t thought that his new body could be destroyed by anyone, human or otherwise. Yet at this very moment, it was being very thoroughly trashed. He screamed and tried his best not to look down. His once proud foot long black penis that he had been so happy to get all those months ago, was now nothing more than a shredded piece of meat. He sobbed some more and was quickly met with another slap meant to stop his crying and force his eyes open, but instead had the opposite effect. The tears rolled down his face. It wasn’t fair. His life had been so perfect ever since that day. Ever since he had been changed from the scrawny picked on black kid to the big hunk he was now. No. Used to be. He tried not to think about his body anymore. Or at least, what was left of his body. Another slap. He looked up, tears welling again. What greeted him was a face he had gotten to know all too well in the past 45 minutes. If it could be called a face. The dark, oil-like visage which greeted him was something he would have first thought was a mask, had it not opened up a gigantic multifanged maw with which it threatened to devour him with. He didn’t know what it was, but he knew it hurt like hell. He tried not to look at it but more tendrils came out and held his face still.

Venom smiled. Of course, he wasn’t really Venom of the Spiderman fame, but he could look almost any way he wanted, and given how he was created, Venom was the way to go. He smiled, his face almost splitting in half as he bared his fangs. Besides, Venom was always his favourite character in all of comicdom and now he had the chance to live the dream. He grabbed the man in front of him and tightened one of his many tendrils he had wrapped around the poor fellow’s body. “Perhaps we haven’t made ourselves clear.” He said, in that eerie double voice he had since developed. “We want to know where Jerome Jackson is. We want to know where that coward who preys on innocents has hid himself.” He squeezed again and absolutely loved the scream that followed. “We really are getting impatient. If you do not soon divulge that information, we may have to start our feast a little earlier than planned.” He grinned, again, showing teeth. The fear factor was very important. His “other” stirred at the idea of a feast. He sighed inwardly. Not now. Soon. But not now.

Michael began crying again at the thought of being eaten. He had held out so long already to protect his fellow “Adam” as they were called by his boss. At first it was out of friendship but quickly his priorities had changed, and only the thought of what his boss would do to him if he found out that he had spilled the beans kept his mouth shut. But now, it was debatable which torture and sure execution would be worse. He was still considering when a quick crack filled the air, followed by yet another of his screams as his leg was snapped in at least 2 places. That tipped the scales quite effectively. He took a few seconds to compose himself, and failed, but at least he wasn’t sobbing anymore. “H.. h.. he’s.. at... 143 Q.. Queen Str...eet.” He shut his eyes as more tears rolled out. “Apartme..ap..apartment 4 b..b...b..B.” He slumped against the tendrils holding him up and cried some more. His life, one way or another was over. He hoped at least it would be quick.

The man who called himself Venom nodded. “Very good of you to cooperate. Unfortunately, we cannot reward you much for that bit of information as your crimes of the past have vastly outweighed this little trinket you have offered to us. However, we can make your death relatively quick, although we cannot guarantee it to be painless.” He smiled and his fangs bared again as he advanced on the sobbing man. His “other” was in absolute heaven for the next few minutes, relishing in the end of the hunt. The screams went unnoticed as Venom had already pushed to neighbors around the small apartment to not notice anything odd. Finally it was done, and he got up and neatly cleaned up the place, gathering all the remaining bone fragments, skin and blood that had been littering the place. It was time to pay the piper. He grinned. Jerome would be dead soon. His “companion” squeeled in delight at the thought of another feast. He nodded grimly. Those that harmed the innocent had to be brought to justice. And this Jerome character had definitely harmed the innocent. His organs would taste quite good after a quick torture. Venom made his way to the door. He obviously wasn’t Trent, but he’d have to do for now. He shut the door slowly so as not to wake anyone. Trent would have to wait. But soon, his brains would join all the others. Venom smiled and faded into the darkness.

Epilogue IV:

The buzzing continued and he coudln’t stand it. Tick. DAMMIT. Why wouldn’t it stop? All the other girls he had encountered had... he froze. A mind of their own inside their enslaved mind. Tick. Steve wasn’t one for manipulation. He preferred to create a new persona and trap the old one, to torture her. Tick. It wasn’t just background noise. Colt’s blood began to run cold. It was her! Tick. The buzzing got louder and Colt began to work harder, faster at tearing down that shield. IH’S A XRRP! IH’S A XRRP! IH’S A XRRP! IH’S A XRRP! The words, if they were indeed words, got faster and faster. Tick. He kept going, fearing the worst, fearing that Steve had prepared for him yet again. Time seemed to slow to a crawl. IH’S A XRRP! One more barrier. Tick. IH’S A XRRP! IH’S A XRAP! IT’S A XRAP! IT’S A TRAP! His breathing stopped, everything stopped and he finally heard it, a sound he had been ignoring for so long. Tick. He turned and looked in the direction he heard it eminating from. It was just a plain brown box. Tock. And the world went white.