The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Someone knocked on the door. I stiffened at the noise—now was the prime time for visitors, both expected and unexpected. Sandra gasped as I moved off her, but she was all screamed out. She didn’t even try to resist as I gagged her with a practiced motion.

I went to the window and glanced outside, expecting to see some nosy neighbor or maybe a school friend of Becky’s. Instead, there was Kitten in a pair of white overalls and a baseball cap rocking on her heels. Quickly I went into the hall and opened the door.

She smiled. “Someone order an exterminator?”

“Cute,” I said. “You took your time.”

“An hour and twenty minutes, including picking up this nifty disguise,” she said, moving through the house like a whirlwind.

“Yeah, OK,” I said, getting down to business, “One in here, one in there, two upstairs. The younger kid’s got some kind of problem, seems to have a mental age of five or six. We’ve kept them blindfolded since we got here except for the kid. We’ve left her free and we wore masks around her. Where’s Doc?”

“Be here in about an hour. He didn’t trust my helicopter flying.”

“You fly choppers?”

She shrugged. “Doesn’t everybody?”

I shook my head. Smug bitch.

Meanwhile, Kitten went into the living room and checked on Sandra, noting her damp pussy and the discarded rubber. “We have been busy, haven’t we?” Reaching over the woman’s body, she tightened Sandra’s gag, then pulled out a pair of handcuffs from a overall pocket. The cuffs were used to secure the helpless woman’s feet.

We checked quickly on Myra, then I led Kitten upstairs. Inside the oldest girl’s bedroom, JoJo’s face was covered in Becky’s juices. Becky herself was begging for release behind her gag.

“My, you have been busy,” Kitten said, impressed. “Planning a double header, were you? Mother and daughter?”

“Whatever happened to Master?“ I moaned. “You called me Master yesterday.”

Kitten looked at me, and actually blushed. “You’re sweet, Charlie, but we both know it’s just a courtesy title. Doc is my only master. Besides, since yesterday you have been my slave in waiting, and I figure until that’s resolved, it makes us equal.”

Leaving me to splutter over that, she climbed onto the bed and removed the bandage and tape from Becky’s lips, pulling the sodden sponge free. “Hello, slave,” she said crisply.

“W. . .who are you,” Becky gasped.

“You may call me Mistress, and the only thing that you need to know right now is that I decide when or if you cum.”

“Oh pleeeeease. . .” Becky begged. At that moment, she would have sold her soul to cum and Kitten knew it. Smiling an evil feline smile, Kitten played with her victim.

“You call that begging?” she scoffed. “If you want to cum, I’m sure you can do better than that.”

“Please. . .please, oh please, let me cum.” I winced a little at lost opportunities. The girl was so needful; if Kitten had been just a little later, Becky would’ve begged me to fuck her.

As it was, she was begging Kitten. “Please what?” Kitten demanded.

“P. . .please, Mistress. L. . .let me cum!”

“Better,” Kitten said, nodding. Reaching into her pocket she pulled out another of Doc’s gags which she forced into the girl’s unresisting mouth, then padlocked it in place. She turned to JoJo. “Finish her off, then untie her and help her downstairs. She isn’t to remove the blindfold. Understand?”

“Yes Mistress.”

“Good girl.” Kitten turned to me, “Right. Let’s get this thing under control, shall we?” She stripped out of the overalls to reveal a nicely tailored business suit. Even after Sandra, I found myself getting hard again. I suppose I’ve liked a woman who can power dress since the Marines.

We started to clean up, disposing of anything that linked us to the place. Ray, another recruiter I’d worked with from time to time, appeared at the door with a large tank on wheels. It had a giant roach on the side and I figured it was part of their exterminator cover.

“What’s this?” I asked, tapping on the tank.

“Slave transporter, so we can take them out without being spotted,” Kitten said from behind me. “Give me a hand.” Between us, we took the lid off and she showed me the padded interior. There was just about enough room for a body inside.

It took some effort, but eventually we managed to cram Myra into the tank. I watched as Ray wheeled her to the van, then took Kitten to one side. “Look, can’t we just leave the rest of them tied up or something? Do we HAVE to recruit them?”

She arched one perfect eyebrow. “Do I see a twinge of conscience? The suggestion that you might just let two prime recruits go?”

I looked uncomfortable. “Well. . .”

“These people are a security risk, Charlie. You must see that. I admit I feel sorry for the little girl, but I’m afraid your two naked playmates have got to go.”

By now, JoJo was leading Becky downstairs. The girl seemed drained and unresisting. JoJo had already fastened Becky’s hands behind her with the leather cuffs, so after forcing her down onto the couch with her mother we only needed to cuff her ankles. The two Fisher women squirmed, aware of each other’s presence. The smell of sweat and damp pussy clung to naked flesh, making it very clear what had happened to each of them.

Then Doc arrived. Compared to the whirlwind that was Kitten, he appeared almost subtly, dressed in a business suit with an overcoat, this silver hair and beard impeccably groomed. He looked for all the world like someone’s rich grandfather. “Ah, Charles, my boy,” he said, almost cheerfully.

I winced. A whole day of maintaining cover, blown like that. Silently I indicated the two naked women tied on the couch.

“Ah, yes, this must be the delightful Ms. Sandra Fisher and her daughter Rebecca.” He said it as if they had just been introduced at the Queen’s garden party. The girls wiggled a little and Sandra tried to say something.

Doc looked up at me in disapproval. “Charles, where are your manners? Free these young ladies at once. Kitten, I assume that there are suitable clothes somewhere in the house?” She nodded. “Then please get some, straight away.”

I looked at Kitten but she just shrugged as she headed upstairs on her errand. I helped Doc free the Fishers.

Sandra blinked against the sudden burst of light after her blindfold was removed for the first time in hours. Seeing Doc, she tried to cover herself.

He held up a hand. “Please, my dear young lady, do not trouble yourself. I can assure you that you have nothing to be ashamed of.”

Somehow, this conforted her. “Wh. . .who are you?” she choked.

He tsked. “Mouth a little dry? Charles, get these two young ladies a drink.”

I ducked into the kitchen, locating some cans of pop in the refrigerator, and brought them back with me. Sandra and Becky took them eagerly, gulping at the cold drinks.

Doc smiled over them in avuncular mode. “Now, down to business. My friends call me Doc, and I’m sorry to say that this young ruffian works for me. So you see, any inconvenience that he has caused you is entirely my fault. Please accept my apologies.”

They both frowned, eyeing Doc doubtfully, but perked up when Kitten appeared a few minutes later with some clothes. Despite the fact that I’d seen them both naked (hell, I made them strip in the first place), Doc made me look away as they got dressed. Sandra was starting to feel a little more secure with her clothes on, a feeling Doc shattered a moment latter.

“Rebecca my dear, please go with my assistant here and do as she says,” he instructed Becky. “She will need your help with your sister.”

Sandra sat bolt upright. “Amy! My God, where’s Amy?”

“Upstairs asleep,” I told her. “She’s having a little nap.”

Doc smiled. “Indeed. Now, Sandra, we must take your daughters away for a while. Not long, I assure you. While they are gone I’m sure that I can count on your complete cooperation.”

“If I don’t you’ll hurt my girls!” Sandra wailed, close to hysteria now.

“Nonsense.” Doc gave her a hard look, a look that scares even me. “I won’t lie to you, Sandra. I could take your daughters and ensure that they spend the rest of their lives giving blow jobs in a Mexican brothel. It is perfectly possible for me and my associates to erase your family without trace and ensure that no one will ever look for you. I could do all that and worse, but I won’t. The reason that your daughters must leave is that I am expecting a group of armed men to attack this house later tonight. Those men have been told to kill everyone inside and to hunt down any survivors. I believe that I have taken all necessary precautions, but why risk your daughter’s lives? Two of my men will transport them to your sister’s in Maine and leave them with her.”

Sandra was stunned.

“You see, Sandra, the reason my young friend was forced to detain you this morning is that he and the two young ladies were running for their lives,” Doc explained. “These men have already killed an associate of mine, a friend for over thirty years, a faithful husband, a loving grandfather. A man who served your country well through some of its darkest hours. When you get to my age, it seems that you spend most of your days attending funerals. Usually you can look back and say that at least the chap had a good innings, but in this case my friend had a good few overs left to play. I feel a righteous indignation that can only be soothed by a most terrible revenge. Ah, here’s the tea. Kitten, will you be mother?”

Kitten poured the tea and I watched Sandra’s face. Thirty minutes ago she’d been tied up on a couch getting (I hope) the best fucking of her life. Now she was trying to come to terms with this. “So. . .who are you?” she asked. “The government?

“It would be safe to say that we have all worked for your government from time to time, but not at the moment. At least not in an official capacity,” Doc said, winking. “In this case, it is my belief that your government will find itself well served by our modest efforts here today.”

“But these men—”

“I would like you to stay and assist us in this matter,” Doc said, overriding her. “If you wish, there is still time to take you to your sister’s with the children. However, if you stay, then my organization is willing to pay you the sum of one hundred and thirty seven thousand, seven hundred and thirty one dollars. In case you are not aware of it, that is the outstanding balance on the mortgage for this house.”

“But how—”

“I know a lot about you, Sandra.” Doc smiled at her. “I know about your husband Gerard, how the stress of raising a child with Amy’s special needs broke up your marriage. I even spoke with Dr. Linz not an hour ago about young Amy’s condition. I realize that since the divorce you have been making caretaker payments on the mortgage, paying the interest only, and I realize that even that takes nearly two thirds of your available income. What I offer is a way out of the poverty trap for you and your daughters. All you have to do is assist my associates and keep quiet about ALL that happened here today.”

“And the men?”

The smile turned cold. “We intend to kill them, Sandra. Make no mistake, if you stay you will be an accessory to that act. Punishable by the full weight of the law.”

I could see her considering his offer, but the result was a foregone conclusion. If what Doc said was true, she and her daughters would be out on the streets within a year. He was offering her a way out and all he wanted in return was a part of her soul.

She looked up, and swallowed. “What do you want me to do?”

Sandra moaned into her gag as I thrust in. This time there was even more of a thrill, probably because we both realized this could be our last fuck ever. It hadn’t been easy for Sandra to allow herself to be tied up again, especially knowing the dangers. It would mean that she would be almost completely helpless when it happened.

Doc had explained his plans and made his preparations but now it was down to us.

I thrust in again. She was definitely making the best of a bad job in any case. They say danger is an aphrodisiac and Sandra was certainly hot tonight. She was on her second orgasm and I was building nicely towards mine when I suddenly saw her lust-filled eyes open with alarm.

Then I heard a click next to my ear.

“So, Charles, isn’t it? I must say you fellows take your work seriously. Do you just walk around tying up every woman you meet?” The Yuppie’s voice was still as irritating as ever.

“S. . .something like that,” I said, and came. After all, there was no point in wasting it.

“Put your hands on your head and stand up.” He tried to sound bored, like he did this sort of thing every day, but it came out as a nervous whine. His eyes became fixed on the naked woman and I knew that I could take him then and there. But that wasn’t in the plan. With some regrets I stood and put my hands on my head as directed. He nodded me towards the kitchen, then he reached down and dragged Sandra to her feet.

“I must say you led us quite a chase,” he said equitably. “Toby will be so glad we found you. When he gets out of the hospital, that is.”

“How is Toby?” I asked, keeping my voice friendly, as if we were chatting about an old college buddy.

“As well as a man with two crushed legs can be.”

“Ouch. I hope you’ll tell him it was nothing personal,” I said. By now we were in the hall. As arranged, Sandra kept falling back, forcing him to keep pushing her forward. I moved a little ahead. The idiot was a banker, not a gunman, and I hoped he didn’t realize what we were doing. His eyes kept sliding over Sandra’s naked body, down her flanks to her freshly shaved pussy. I saw the bulge in his trousers, evidence of his distraction. Sandra, bless her heart, wiggled her hips as she walked, dragging his attention back to her crotch with every move. I glanced at her and caught the look in her eye. There was fear there, and the faint suggestion of panic, but there was also a grim determination holding everything in check. I began to feel more confident.

“How did you find us, by the way?” I asked, still sounding chatty. “You must realize that my people will be here soon.”

He laughed. “Oh, I don’t think so. Want to know why?” He pushed me forwards, giving me an extra impetus that carried me even further from him. The Yuppie Bitch Queen and two men stood in the kitchen. Sat in a chair, hands cuffed and mouth taped over, was Alison.

“Shit!” I said, appalled.

The Yuppie smiled. “Your message was still on her machine when we arrived. She hadn’t made it home, you see, because we decided to have a chat with her first.” He tilted her face up and I could see the bruises. “As you can tell, she wasn’t very cooperative. If you hadn’t called the silly bitch, we wouldn’t have found you.”

I gritted my teeth together. “All right. What do you want?”

“Joanne, and especially that little tart Myra. I’ve got to pay that little bitch back.”

“Then what?”

He shrugged. “No witnesses, nothing to connect us with any of this.” He turned to the goons. “You two look for them.”

They found JoJo bound and gagged in the den and pushed her through to the kitchen. The Yuppie Bitch Queen licked her lips. “I don’t suppose we have time for a quickie, do we, darling? Joanne has such a wonderful technique—it would be a shame to miss out.”

The Yuppie chuckled indulgently. “Perhaps later, after I’ve dealt with Myra.” He looked Sandra over, lips pursed in consideration. “Tell me, Charles, how well does your new toy suck dick?”

“Not still painful then?” I asked innocently.

He scowled, ignoring me. “Don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll find out, as I think we and the ladies will have a bit of a party before we leave. Unfortunately, as you ruined our last one, you won’t be invited.”

“I could go and get the beer?” I offered. Through the kitchen door, I could see the two goons dragging Myra downstairs. She was kicking and making gagged noises from beneath a pillowcase I’d used as a hood. “I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me what all this is about?” I asked, stalling for time.

“Like in the movies?” Yuppie Man shook his head. “Real life isn’t like that, I’m afraid. All you need to know is that you fucked with the wrong people, and now you’re going to pay.”

Myra was pushed into the room. Being blindfolded, she staggered a bit, finally coming to rest against the far wall. One of the goons walked over and pulled off the pillowcase. They were expecting Myra, so of course they were disappointed.

“Peekaboo,” Kitten said.

The goon was stunned. A second later, he was dead. Kitten’s hand flew up, the heel striking the man’s nose at a lethally precise angle. On cue, Sandra threw herself to one side, crushing the Yuppie’s gun arm against the door frame. Desperately, he tried to push the naked woman away. Realizing that she was literally fighting for her life, Sandra held. He hit her with his free hand and in return I hit him, hard. Meanwhile, the second goon was so confused having seen “Myra” turn out to be another woman, and that woman then kill his partner, that he froze for a long moment. Just about the time he started thinking again, Ken opened the garage door and shot him with a silenced 38.

“What the—” the Yuppie Bitch Queen started to say, but Ken shoved the barrel of his gun into her mouth. She whimpered and kept quiet, while I started freeing the women.

Doc came in all smiles, as if he were some theatrical producer after a first night. “My dear children, what a wonderful success! Sandra, my dear, a wonderful performance, Kitten as outstanding as ever. And Alison—” He went over to where Alison was rubbing her wrists. “My dear we couldn’t have done it without you. The risk involved—”

“They killed Sam, Doc,” she said, her tone flat and lifeless. “My Sam. What was I supposed to do after that? If they killed me, so what?”

Doc’s tone harded a little. “Now, don’t start talking like that. Sam wouldn’t like it.” I knew why—it was a common syndrome with slaves dedicated to one master that they frequently became listless, even suicidal, when the man died.

I looked over at the pain slave, suddenly inspired. “Alison, I spoke to Connie. She’d like to meet you, perhaps have you over to stay—”

Alison blinked. “Connie? Really?”

“She told me so herself. I think she really wants to meet you. And that way, you could meet Sam’s kids, too.”

This seemed to cheer her somewhat, especially the idea of meeting Sam’s kids for the first time. I didn’t say anything, but Sam’s eldest was about Alison’s age and shared some of his father’s “interests.” Perhaps there were some possibilities there. Doc gave me an approving look.

In the meantime, Kitten had started handcuffing the Yuppie couple. JoJo put the kettle on for tea, and Ken and his partner Ray were outside seeing if there were any more baddies out there. A few minutes later, Sandra was wearing clothes again and the “Exterminator” had dealt with the dead bodies. The Yuppie couple, however, were the center of attention, taped to kitchen chairs.

“Okay, we’re cool, and we have these two wackos tied up,” I jerked a thumb at the Yuppies. “Now, can someone please tell me what in the wide world of sports is going on here?”

Doc gave Sandra a funny look, then said, “It all started a couple of months ago, when you were in London. Sam came to me with a commission. Apparently, a woman named Myra McTaggart who worked for a well known New York bank had been found with her fingers in the till. As I explained before, she had blackmailed the bank into dropping the issue by threatening to damage their reputation. Sam said that the bank’s directors wanted a special revenge, and could we process her straight away?”

“You told me this before,” I said. “And the story has more holes than the Titanic.”

“Just so, but Sam had received his request from an excellent source, a VP of the bank.” Doc looked at the Yuppie. “And said VP was about to marry the bank president’s daughter.” Doc glanced at the Yuppie Bitch Queen.

“So we picked Myra up, and of course we were very interested in discovering just where she had hidden the money. She seemed strangely reluctant to talk, despite Kitten’s persuasions. While we were pondering this, Sam got a second request. Apparently Myra’s PA was asking unfortunate questions and threatening to go to the police. Obviously she couldn’t remain at liberty. So of course we picked her up, too. Even before she arrived at my place, however, this strange request about a weird lesbian show had been passed to Sam. When I received it, my curiousity was piqued and I had Sam do some checking. Of course, when I actually saw the girl, my suspicions were confirmed.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because, Charles, Joanne is my goddaughter.”

My mind boggled. Who in their right mind would make Doc their kid’s godfather?

It must have been on my face, because Doc explained, “You see, I met her grandfather whilst I was working on a project call MKULTRA, just after the war. He was in military intelligence, like Sam.

“Years later, when Joanne was born he came to me and asked if I could help her. You see, she had learning problems and he thought our research might offer the possibility of a cure. I helped her, of course, and over the years we’ve kept in touch, so when she was delivered to my place it was really a bit of a shock. We discussed matters amongst ourselves and realized what must have really happened. You see, Myra had suspected that the Bank was being used to do illegal fund transfers, and had started an investigation. She gave Joanne the job of researching the banks files to find an audit trail. They discovered that whoever was doing all of this must be on the board, as only they had the authority for certain transfers. Myra needed the help of the bank’s president in order to get the power she needed to audit further. As the president was hard to reach, she decided to go via his daughter and told her the whole story. The daughter agreed to help, but the price was most unusual. It turns out that the daughter was not quite the pure maiden she led most people to believe, and there would be a sexual price Myra would have to pay to get to her father. Myra refused, and even made the mistake of suggesting that Daddy would not be pleased when he found out about his precious’s little peccadillos.

“Up until then, Myra had been discreet about her investigation. Then suddenly, our man gets word on what she’s doing. He sets up a chain of evidence, a classic embezzlement scheme pointing to Myra, to cover the deficiencies in the books. Then he had us pick her up.”

“Why not just kill her?”

He tut-tutted. “Charles, dear boy, this is an unstarched white collar criminal; he can’t stand up for himself, much less do his own dirty work. He realized that if Myra disappeared, the blame would be placed on her. He moved in the kinds of circles most our clients do and had heard whispers about my operation. Besides, Myra was hunting him; it had become personal. The advantage of using us to do his dirty work for him is that afterwards, he and his lover could use her as their personal toy.” He shrugged. “In short, it was about power—his ability to take hers away. I think he moved on impluse and it was only later after Myra had been picked up that he realized that the real threat was Joanne.

“By the time Joanne and I worked this out, Myra was in a critical condition. If we took it further, she would be permanently destroyed. So we decided to keep her disoriented and teach her a few tricks. We had a plan, but it would require Joanne to do a number of unsavory things.” He gave his goddaughter a sympathetic look. “We tried, but she simply couldn’t do it. So finally she agreed to the creation of a shell personality, something temporary that would sit on top of her own persona for a few days and would be able to do what was needed. And that’s how JoJo was born. She was given a special set of instructions and keyed to you personally.”

I scratched my head. “Then why did you have me treat her as hostile?”

He smiled. “Myra was, dear boy. Remember, these people had never met one of my slaves before. If you treated JoJo differently, they may have started to pay her more attention.”

I nodded. As always, Doc had thought of everything.

He continued, “My plan was to deliver the slaves as agreed and to catch our VP in the act, so to speak. Unfortunately, two things went wrong. First, our VP got word that Sam was asking questions. He realized that if he killed Sam, the girls and whoever delivered them, there would be nothing to connect any of this together. So he hired some muscle from one of the more disreputable executive protection agencies and had the time of the party moved forward. He and his lover planned a night of the long knives, to get you all on the same night. They picked Sam up while you were on the road and we didn’t know he was dead until it was too late.

“The second thing to go wrong was that you arrived too early. I’d made arrangements to have some of our people there for backup. A couple of slaves had been prepared to be found in a compromising position with our VP. All was set, but then you went in early. . .”

I winced. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It had to look natural. He wasn’t to suspect until it was too late. We had thought he would come alone, that we could take him stick him in bed with a couple of whores and threaten to send the pictures to his prospective father-in-law.” He looked over at the Bitch Queen, and a corner of his mouth quirked. “Of course, we never thought that his fiancee would turn out to be such a shameless hedonist. I was shocked when I realized—after all, they are such a good family.

“When things went wrong, all I could think about was that you’d kill the slaves as we’d agreed. Then I discovered Sam was dead and it became very personal.” Doc turned grim. “When you called, I was with Alison. I realized immediately that if they didn’t have you, we still stood a chance. Alison agreed to be bait. You see, to protect his family Sam never used his own ID when in New York. He worked from a small office and none of his clients knew his real name. As they killed him before you slipped through their fingers, the police report suggested that they made no attempt to get any information from him. It seemed reasonable therefore that once they lost you, the only link they’d have would be the office. I arranged that Alison would go over and deliberately get caught, if you like. Then, when they went to her place to follow up, they would find the message I had you record.”

It all fit together. “So Myra and Joanne are going to be deprogrammed?”

“Joanne is, of course.” He sighed. “I would have liked to have kept Myra, but Joanne is attached to her, so I suppose we’ll have to fix her.”

“How will you explain her being away for so long?”

“That’s simple,” Kitten said, perkily. “We usually make them think that they’ve been abducted by aliens.”

I stared at her. “Aliens? Them? Who’s Them?“

Doc rolled his eyes. “I’m afraid our little Kitten is becoming a bit of a practical joker. I’ll explain later.”

Just then, Ray and Ken came back. Ken looked grim. “They had a van around the side. Two guys. We disposed of them,” he reported.

“Very good, dear boy.” Doc tapped his chin thoughtfully. “You had better use the van to dispose of the bodies. Remember, use the crack powder sparingly, just enough to leave a trace. We want the police to find a drug connection, but don’t leave enough to make them too suspicious. After all, they’re not stupid, just slow.”

JoJo handed out the tea as the guys started to clean up the stains on the kitchen floor. Doc turned to Sandra. “So, my dear, you know a little more about us now,” he said calmly.

“Y. . .you’re white slavers?” she asked, still trying to come to terms with it all.

Doc looked shocked. “I assure you, madam, we have no color preferences. Besides, ‘White Slaver’ is such a Victorian term. It conjures images of virtuous white women at the mercy of dirty Arabs. Oh, no, we’re nothing like that.”

A look of horror spread across her face. “My God—you have my daughters—”

Doc shook his head. “Your sister in Maine has your daughters, flown there by private plane. I think Amy will be thrilled. Has she ever flown in a small plane before?”

Sandra shook her head, still horrified.

“Wonderful child, Amy. Dr. Linz and I spoke about her case at length. She has Prosov’s Syndrome, I believe?”

“Yes, but—”

“Brilliant man, Prosov,” Doc mused. “Told really wonderful dirty jokes. Stalin had him purged, you know. Too independent.” He paused. “Sandra, my organization has lost a valued member and a good friend. While no one can replace Sam, his death has left an opening in our corporate structure that I feel you can fill.”

“Me? Kidnap girls and—” She stalled, then swallowed hard and stared at him. I had to admire her guts. “How do you think I could do something like that? I’m a mother—”

Doc smiled. “I think you can do it precisely because you are a mother and because you want the best for your daughters. The house is yours as we agreed, the bank will confirm that the mortgage has been paid. That is payment for your work tonight and for keeping silent on the things that happened today. Remember, as far as the courts are concerned you are an accessory to two murders, so keeping things quiet is in all our interests.” Her jaw tightened, but she didn’t say anything. “If you accept my offer, we will set you up in a business of your choosing. Real Estate seems promising—we will buy you a franchise which will make you the senior partner. As it grows, it will generate more than enough income to keep Amy and Rebecca in private school and pay for college. You’ll also have enough free time to look after our other business. Don’t worry—we will train you and provide suitable staff.”

“I. . .but—”

He held up a hand. “Please, you haven’t heard the most substantial part of my offer. You see, I knew Prosov quite well. We collaborated before his government intervened, as we were both interested in the same things—the structures of the mind and the mechanics of learning. I can offer you something no one else can ever offer you.” He leaned closer, his voice low and luring. “I can cure Amy. I can get her mental age back to her physical age in less than six months. Push her IQ back to normal and perhaps beyond.”

Sandra’s mouth worked silently. It had to be the biggest temptation she’d ever faced. “They said it’s incurable. . .” she said hesitantly.

Doc laughed. “They also said that man would never fly, that the Earth was flat, that if a man traveled at over thirty miles an hour air pressure would crush him,” he said, chuckling. “Here, I’ll prove it to you. Kitten?” He waved her over. “Sandra, do you perchance have a calculator? Ah, good—would you get it, please.”

Still disbelieving, Sandra dug a small solar-powered calculator out of a kitchen drawer. “Now what?”

“It’s quite simple. Think of a sum, any sum, as many numbers as you like, then tell it to Kitten.”

Sandra gave Kitten a look that barely hinted at hope. “What’s 273,159 divided by. . .I don’t know. . .123?”

“2220 point 804 how many decimals did you want?” Kitten said smugly.

Sandra tried it three more times. In all cases the limiting factor was her calculator as Kitten gave more decimals than she could verify. Doc patted Kitten approvingly. “This is a relatively simple trick. Kitten also has a perfect memory, perfect pitch.....”

“I’m just generally perfect,” Kitten said with a cheerful little shrug. For once, she even appeared to be a normal eighteen year old kid, reveling in the attention.

Doc flashed Sandra a dark look. “Six months—that’s just enough time for you to set up your business. If you can’t see an improvement before then, you can keep the business with my blessing and forget about us. If Amy improves, then you work for me. Believe me, your conscience is not as big a problem as you believe.”

She chewed on her lip. “And what if Amy improves and I don’t work for you? What if I cheat?”

“Oh, you won’t. If I really thought you were the type of person who would run out on a deal, then I wouldn’t be making you the offer. Believe me, my dear lady, we are not monsters and we are not cheats. Our line of work requires courage and honesty.”

Sandra stared at us, her face reflecting the conflict she obviously felt. White slavers, murderers. . .and the saviors of her daughter.

“Agreed, then?” Doc pressed.

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and nodded. “Agreed.”

He clapped his hands. “Excellent! And now, I must ask you to do one ceremonial duty to celebrate our new arrangement.”

He handed Sandra a padded gag and pointed as the Yuppie Bitch Queen. YBQ saw what was coming and tried to move her head away, but Kitten stopped her.

“Gag that slave,” Doc ordered.

Sandra reached forward and pushed the penis mouthpiece into the Queen’s mouth, then tightened the straps.

A cheer went up and a deal was made.

And it only cost one soul.