The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“This is NOT good, Lace,” Jerry relied over the speaker.

“Like, DUH, Jerry,” Lacie retorted. “One of the nation’s oldest and most respected Super Heroes, not to mention a friend of mine, goes all hairy and tries to gut me with his claws. ‘Not Good’ is an understatement.”

Jerry thought for a moment. “Okay. Valid point. Now here’s another one. I was referring to the circumstances regarding Newton.” He glanced at his screen. “Felix Isaacs, a.k.a Newton. Five-foot-eleven-inches, brown eyes, grey hair, approximate age, fifty-seven years old. Possesses the powers akin to Newton’s Three Laws regarding motion: Mastery of Inertia, Acceleration, and Momentum. Has augmented strength and resilience drawn from his manipulating of inertial forces, capable to bench pressing up to a recorded maximum of five thousand pounds. Highest recorded land speed through manipulation of Momentum and Acceleration forces is four hundred miles per hour—”

“We know all this, Jerry,” Lacie interrupted, losing patience.

“Yes, well, my POINT is, the guy is definitely a hard nut to crack. The sample of blood you sent me from the battle site definitely matches up as Newton’s, but just barely. The DNA sequence in come of the blood cells are completely foreign... in effect, wolf DNA. And believe me, you don’t have two separate types of DNA in one blood cell, unless you’re some kind of modern medical miracle, like on ‘House, MD’. And even then, its all human, not animal.”

“So what are you saying? That he was bitten by a real life werewolf?”

“No, of course not, don’t be silly!” Jerry scoffed. “Werewolves are fantasy, myth and superstition. What you are dealing with is a genetic hybrid, no doubt caused by the addition of irradiated unstable bio-genetic material of a specific genome.” He removed his glasses and wiped them liberally. “In other words, some mad scientist decided to audition for the part of Dr. Moreau.”

“And the silver knife?”

Jerry paused. “Hmmm. Well. Um. Er... I suppose for, um, symmetry or... um... ascetics, they might have genetically engineered an allergic reaction to silver. Or... oh! Maybe its simply a side-effect of the genetic restructuring?”

Lacie rolled her eyes. “I like it much better when you are an overbearing know-it-all that actually knows what you’re talking about, Jerry. Just do me a favor and research this for me, see if any other Supers had suddenly disappeared without a trace, or any reports of attacks from any... well... furry wolflike creatures.”

Jerry grumbled, but promised to do so. Lacie cut transmission and sighed deeply. Taking to the air, she let her mind wander briefly. It was Friday afternoon, and Gene was due back in town within the hour, and back at their home by six PM. A nice quiet weekend alone, she thought wistfully. As busy as we’ve both been lately, with our regular lives and our alternate lives, we could use some downtime. That’s the nice thing about Silver City: there is always a Super out there somewhere to keep the people safe. Hopefully the world can get by without Omega Girl and Armor Man for one weekend.

That was the plan, at any rate. Still, Omega Girl found her mind wandering back to the events of the past few hours. She just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was coming... something bad. She felt a weight in the pit of her stomach, a rock-hard, icy knot that had nothing to do with the rich cuisine she’d eaten at Vincetti’s. No, her gut was telling her that there was more to all this than just a random, one-time incident.

She had stayed behind long enough to help Whitewash and the police and rescue workers sort through the people crowded into the library. Strangely enough, aside from a few minor scratches, cuts, and bruises—all caused by falling or tripping in their haste to get away from the creatures—no one was actually injured. A sweep of the building revealed no hidden traps, no bombs, no nasty surprises at all. Indeed, the entire attack, aside from obviously being perfectly planned, guided, and executed, made no sense whatsoever.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head over it, dear,” Eva had replied, shooing her back home. “If you’re right, and this whole thing was an elaborate test of some kind, some new villain flexing his muscles, so to speak, then we’ll find out about it soon enough. You go on back home, and wait for Eugene to arrive. The two of you need to clear the air on a few issues. Trust me, I can handle sorting through the rest of this. Go home, get cleaned up, put on your slinkiest dress, and take your man out for a nice romantic dinner.”

Lacie grinned to herself as she landed atop the high-rise building where she and Gene were staying. Entering the rooftop stairwell, she focused her energy, emitting a soft light as she started down the first flight of stairs. By the time she reached the landing at the bottom, the change was complete: her golden blonde hair had returned to its normal jet black locks, her brilliant blue eyes had likewise gone brown, and her rich golden tanned complexion had lightened to a pale pristine white. The skintight black leather returned to its dimension, leaving her body clad once again in her smart navy blue business suit. Reaching the floor of their apartment, she entered, tossing her purse aside, kicking off her heels, before the door had even closed behind her.

Eva’s right, Lacie thought to herself, as she slid her suit jacket and blouse onto the bed. No one was hurt, and the wolves got away. No need to keep dwelling on it now; if they show up again, I’ll be ready for them, but for now I should worry only about tonight. Lifting a long tapered leg, she began rolling down her stockings. Lately, I’m just so stressed out, so... flustered, that by the time he gets home to me, I’m so out of sorts I snap at him at the slightest thing. sigh I don’t want a fight tonight. I just need to relax, and wait for him to arrive.

Inspiration struck, and she grabbed her cell phone. “Hello? Susan? Ye... yes, it’s me. Lacie. Is my dad awake? I’d really like to speak to him.” Moments later, James Gilbertson’s voice replaced the Southern nurse on the line.

“Hey, kitten,” the elderly Professor gushed, the warm and love in his voice washing over Lacie like a blanket. “It’s good to hear from you again.” He coughed deeply, a loud hacking sound. “What’s going on? How are you and that young man of yours doing there in the big city?”

“Oh, we’re okay,” Lacie replied, moving over to the bathtub, and switching on the water. “We had a little bit of a tiff the other day—”

“You two seem to be having ‘tiffs’ a lot lately,” her father remarked.

Lacie sighed. “Yes, well, Daddy, we all know why that is. I’m just stressed out a lot these days, you know? I dunno... I just feel really... insecure.” She sighed deeply. “You know how I was last year.... after that whole incident with... well, you know.”

“Yes, pumpkin, The Mind Five. I remember them.”

“Well, Eva says I am doing better... that I’m back to ninety-five percent. But, well... it’s that damned five percent. That feeling, that NEED...” Lacie closed her eyes, shuddering as a wave of dark pleasure swept over her at the memory. “They twisted me, dad. They broke me, remade me into some kind of... of... submissive sexual deviant.”

“But you’re better now, sweetheart,” James insisted. “So what if they broke you? Who cares. No one is perfect, no one is infallible, save the Lord. The important thing is that you came through it. Not only did you fight your way back from the brink, you saved the entire world. Kitten, that’s no small thing. Your friend in the wheelchair, you know, the computer geek that likes to use big words all the time—”

“Jerry?” Lacie said with a giggle.

“—yes, Jerry. He explained to me exactly what happened to you, what they did to you. Lacie Ann, I know I told you this a hundred times in the hospital, but I am very proud of you. What you went through would have destroyed a lesser person, but you endured.” He shook his head. “I can tell you for certain, I couldn’t have survived everything they put you through.”

Lacie smiled. Her father, strong of spirit and soul, bore a frail weakened body. Weighing little more than 85 pounds, a strong breeze could blow him over. Nevertheless, she answered, “Of course you could have, daddy. No one could ever beat you. You have the strongest heart and spirit of anyone I know.”

The old man was silent for a long moment, so long that Lacie felt alarm. “Daddy? DADDY? Are you okay?”

“I’m here, Kitten,” he said quietly after a moment. “But you’re wrong. I’m NOT the person you know with the strongest heart or spirit. It’s You, my daughter.”

“Dad,” Lacie began.

“No, I’m serious,” James cut in. “Listen to me, Lacie. Whatever it is you are going through... whatever you may face in the future, remember my words. Whether its super heroes, or regular people in all walks of life, there will always be someone out there better than you at something—faster, stronger, smarter. What matters most, Lacie... the thing that is most important, is heart. If you have heart, they you can win no matter the odds.”

Lacie sighed, closing her eyes. As always, her father could calm her like no one else could. Somehow, his unyielding belief in her penetrated all her self doubts, all her uneasiness, washing them away, leaving behind a peaceful calmness. “Thank you, Daddy,” she said, after a moment. “You don’t know how badly I needed to hear that.”

They talked for several minutes more, until James commented on the sound of the running water in the background. Switching it off, she filled her dad in on her evening plans. Adding a few more words of fatherly advice, James let her go, telling her to take a good long soak to wash away any lingering tension, and to give him a call sometime on Monday to let him know how the weekend went. Saying goodbye to her father, Lacie tosses her cell back into the bedroom, and sliding the rest of her clothes off, stepped into the bathtub. She sighed deeply as the warm, soapy waters enveloped her naked flesh, and closed her eyes, leaning back, simply enjoying the sensation.

In the bedroom, Lacie’s cell buzzed slightly for a few moments, signaling two voice mail messages waiting to be reviewed. The cell, switched to Vibrate several hours earlier, continued to buzz softly for a minute more before shutting down.

Eugene Fraser frowned deeply, shaking his head to clear it. Lacie was usually at home by this time of he day, and she was expecting him back in within the hour. Dammit, got her voicemail again. I guess she must be out fighting crime, she always has her cell with her, so if she’s not answering, she must have her hands full. Sighing deeply, he glanced at the time, as the automated voice finally beeped.

“Hello, Lacie? It’s Gene. I’m back in town, but I ran into a bit of a snag. Problem with my suit... don’t have what I need with me to fix it, so I’m going to a specialist I know in town.” He frowned again. A specialist? Where had that come from? He always worked on his suit himself. All his systems were highly valued secrets, and the number of people who know his identity he could count on one hand, let alone anyone qualified to fix his armor!

“I know its a bit strange,” he found the words coming from his mouth almost without realizing it, “but it really is a serious problem. It shouldn’t take more than an hour or two to fix, then I’ll be right in.” What in the hell? That’s not what I wanted to say at all! Something’s wrong here... my bloody mouth’s moving of its own accord!

“Dinnae worry about me, love,” his traitorous mouth continued. “I’ll be there soon as I can. And I’ll be bringing you back a little something from my trip. Love you. See you soon. G’bye.”

Soon as the call disconnected, an intense wave of dizziness swept over Gene. Moaning, he clutched his head, shaking it, stumbling as he made his way across the street into an abandoned alleyway. His limbs felt like rubber, as if they couldn’t fully support him, and he half stumbled, half crawled back behind a dumpster, out of sight from the people on the street. Grasping his wristwatch, his fingers tapped of their own free will, activating the power sequence in his Armor Suit. The skintight wire-mesh body suit underneath his clothing activated despite his best efforts to the contrary, and the nanomachines contained inside his gauntlets released, enveloping his body, reforming themselves into the metallic grey computerized battlesuit he’d created: Armor Man.

Well, as least whatever is controlling me was thoughtful enough to let me keep my identity secret, he thought glumly.

The boot jets came to life, firing up. Several people turned towards the alley at the sound, and a child turned to his father and pointed up as Armor Man rocketed up into the sky. Gene’s worry turned to dread as he struggled to move his recalicant muscles, finding that his body was still stuck on auto-pilot. His mind was held captive in his body, which refused to respond to him. The battlesuit, itself, was likewise on auto-pilot, its course being transmitted from an unknown transmission source. The helmet display, still slightly distorted, showed the suit’s flight plan, and suddenly Gene’s dread turned to outright panic. Struggling frantically, straining with every ounce of willpower he possessed, he could only watch in horror as his battlesuit arced in midair, then began a rocketing nosedive towards open water.

Ah, no! he screamed silently. Not again! Not in the water again! Oh ye Gods! NOT AGAIN!!

Armor Man hit the water with a huge splash. The suits automated emergency systems activated immediately, sealing off completely, encasing the frantic Gene in a secured, watertight seal. Life support systems continued to function normally, providing him with oxygen and regulating his body temperature. Despite sinking several hundred feet below the surface of the water, Gene was perfectly intact.

Just for the moment, Eugene thought, panicked. Whoever was pirate controlling the suit to send it to the bottom of the river didnae count on my automated emergency systems. I’m safe enough... until the power runs out. My suit cannae sustain me like this indefinitely! And here I am, all but paralyzed, at the bottom of the river, in a damned metal coffin... I’ve got to think of some way to escape. I’ve got to... because no one is coming to pull me out this time!

Dr. Matthews sighed contentedly, watching as the screen went dark. He placed the remote control aside. “You know, that was actually quite enjoyable. Now I see what all you youngsters go on and on about those video game things you are into these days. It was over with much too soon.”

His companion merely raised a carefully trimmed eyebrow. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, Doctor. That makes all the time and effort setting up this little scenario for you all worthwhile.”

The doctor scoffed, shaking his head. “Do try and be civil, Amber dear. I know if was difficult breaking the Scarlet Dynamo out of prison, that it took most of the money and resources we’d amassed over the past year to outfit him, but the rewards...” He sighed softly. “Do you have any idea how devastating a blow it will be to Omega Girl if we take her man out of the picture?”

Amber growled. “I think it would have been MORE beneficial to have used all that time and money to attack Omega Girl directly! All this subterfuge... this intrigue, this... BULLSHIT!” She curled her lip back, as her canine teeth began to lengthen, her eyes going red. “I can understand your need for revenge,” she spoke in a low deep voice, “I understand that very well... but this—long, drawn out, complex orchestration is madness! Just kill her and be done with it!”

Reginald stood up and walked over to the werewolf. Placing a hand gently against the side of her face, he stroked her gently. “You’re letting your beastly nature get the better of you again,” the doctor replied calmly, stroking and caressing her skin, his power working its way deep into her mind. “You are so very much a Beast, Amber,” he said casually, as the woman fought a hopeless battle to resist the sensations overwhelming her. “Your way is to charge blindly ahead, all teeth and claws, and brute strength. That way leads to ruin. Omega Girl... I’ve faced her before... a few brief skirmishes before that abysmal failure of our so-called Mind Five.” He sighed, running a fingertip across the wolf-girl’s lips. “If there is ANYTHING I have learned from that encounter, its NOT to underestimate her. When I face her again, I want to know that I have all my bases covered. I’ve planned this for more than a year, Amber, leaving NOTHING to chance... and I WON’T be talked down to be a subordinate!”

Amber’s eyes rolled back into her head as waves of pleasure blasted through her, accompanied by feelings of shame and humiliation at her Master’s words, and an orgasm of titanic proportions sent her to her knees. She knelt there, riding the wave of blissful release, knowing all too well that each such surrender wove his web of control even tighter around her. More than anything she wanted free of his control, free to take her revenge on him, but each time he forced her to cum and submit, she felt more and more of her willpower drain away.

Her mind returned with the withdrawal of his hand. “I trust you’ve seen to your newest acolyte’s injuries,” Reginald asked offhand, sitting back down at his desk as if nothing amiss had just occurred. “To be honest, I was a bit concerned about sending someone like Newton out to face her this early in the game. He was always a dangerous man, and even being controlled by you, there was a chance he would actually kill her.”

“Rest assured, Doctor,” Amber panted, getting back to her feet, “I have... complete control over... all my thralls. Powerful he may be, but as long as he bears my mark, he is as helpless to disobey me,” she said with an evil grin, “as I am to disobey you.”

“That is what worried me,” Dr. Matthews grumbled under his breath. Louder, he replied, “At any rate, the next phase of my plan is ready to execute. You are to go to the office at the corner of Cimarron and Davis, and bring Dr. Eva Snow, alias Whitewash, back to me.”

Amber frowned. “Whitewash, hmm? She’s one of those freaky psychics. Are you sure your plan is going to work? The last thing I need is to have someone ELSE digging through my mind...”

“Calm yourself. As I explained to you before, she won’t be able to read your mind. Your bestial nature is too alien, your thoughts to... primal, for lack of a better word. My power works by accessing those primal feelings and sensations, and conditioning you to my will, but for your average every-day psychic, its like listening to a Russian reading Japanese translated from Swahili; sure, she COULD read you, if she’s very very good, but in the time it would take to implant anything worthwhile you could easily have overpowered her.”

“If you say so, Doctor,” Amber replied, touching up her hair. She turned to leave the room.

“Remember, bring her straight back here!” Dr. Matthews reminded her. “And don’t fool around, either! By now my pawn will have prepared everything, but don’t underestimate ANY Super Hero. They have a nasty habit of surprising you with last minute heroics, and coming out on top at the end.”

Amber merely nodded, her high heels clicking loudly on the floor as she strode across the hall to the elevator. Her mind was spinning, the beginnings of a plan of her own quickly forming. An evil smile creased her lips, her fangs threatening to bare themselves. Last minute heroics, you say? she thought to herself. Perhaps this psychic is just the one I need to help me turn the tables on YOU, Doctor! She laughed at the thought, rubbing her long scarlet nails lightly against her blouse. Yes, that would be just perfect. She can do her heroics, and I will come out on top!

“See you next week, Doctor.”

Eva nodded slightly as the young man departed. Her last patient of the day, and she was glad. Throughout the hour, her mind kept going back over the incident earlier, trying to think of why the people had been herded towards the city library. Though she rarely used her powers to probe her patients’ minds—preferring actually psychology to an easy ‘quick fix’ approach—she’d been so preoccupied with the incident that five minutes into the hour she’d dove into the patient’s mind, discovered the underlying cause of his sexual dysfunction, and removed it, so she could focus on the problem foremost in her mind.

While the police had swept the building for any trace of an ambush, Whitewash had done the same with the minds of the people inside. While nearly everyone’s thoughts were focused on the attack and their own well-being, she had detected, just for a moment, a brief note of satisfaction from someone within the crowd. She’d focused in on that mind, only to feel a note of surprise, followed by... nothing.

Obviously a psychic, Eva mused to herself. Or maybe an empath. I couldn’t really read much, just a general sort of feeling. Whatever she was, she was good; no sooner did I focus on her than did she vanish. She shielded herself so well I couldn’t pick up even the tiniest trace. Maybe that’s what worries me. I’m good... maybe I’m not exactly the most powerful, but I now my powers, and I just couldn’t pick her up.

Sliding out from behind her desk, she paced the floor a few times. “Okay. Someone in that crowd was likely in on the attack. I know personally that someone was guiding those creatures, manipulating them, keeping them from doing more than just scaring the piss out of everyone. The attack itself makes no sense, unless you consider the whole thing a test, to gauge how effective those beasts were against Omega Girl.” Her frown deepened. “So, whoever is behind this is after her. But why? And for what purpose? If they just wanted her dead, then why pull back and retreat? If they wanted to capture her, then why not have those three beasts attack her and overpower her? They pretty much proved they could hold their own with her going full out.”

Eva sighed deeply, then yawned. “Hmmm. Guess its time to head home. I’m beat. Maybe I’ll come up with some answers after I’ve had a chance to sleep on it.” Yawning again. “Wow. I must be more tired than I thought.” She took a deep breath, shaking her head, then gasped. “Wait a minute... that... I know that smell... SHIT!”

Eva turned just as the door opened. “Melissa? What is goi—” Eyes widening, Eva took a step back in realization, as her very naked, glassy eyed secretary walked into the room. A quick mind scan revealed that the redhead herself was behind the gas attack. “How? How did they get to you and I not see it?” Dizziness swept over her, and she had to grip the desk to keep from falling over.

Melissa smiled, a blank, vacant smile. “It’s very simple, doctor,” she said sleepily, as she reached out to help Eva back to her chair. “My Master is a very clever man. He conditioned this slave to obey... to obey so well that even she did not know she was obeying. When you were around, this girl was to be herself, to become melissa again, but whenever you were gone, she was to sleep... to sleep deeply... then this girl would take control again.” melissa yawned again, showing the gas was affecting her as well. “My Master called and told me it was time, so melissa slept, i awoke, and flipped a simple switch on a small tank hidden in the air vents outside.”

Eva struggled lightly as melissa walked over to her chair. The gas was hitting her hard; her muscles had gone too limp to push out of the chair, and her mind was so fuzzy she could barely think, let alone focus her powers. “Why... are you... doing this?” she managed.

melissa smiled wider, then yawned deeply. “Mmmmm... because Master commands it... wants you... mmmmm... out of the way... too big of a threat... wants to... keep... mmmmmmm... Omega Girl... without any... support...”

Fading fast, Eva forced her hand onto the phone, and dialed Lacie’s cell, but melissa reached up and took the receiver, hanging it up. “Just relax, Doctor Snow,” melissa said with a yawn, as she slipped gracefully to her knees. “My Master... won’t hurt... you... mmmm... just wants... you... out of... the way... for a while. Just... relax... just... relax...” The last thing Eva saw before her eyes snapped shut was her blissed out secretary sliding a hand down to her crotch.

Jerry frowned, shaking his head again. Display screen number four mocked him with its display, “Dammit. There’s no way in the world. You hundred thousand dollar piece of junk!” he fumed, pulling up a keyboard, typing rapidly, his fingers a blur as new information flooded the screen. “I refuse to believe this genetic sequence is natural! Synthetic biometric reconstitution of the highest caliber, maybe. Sub-nucleonic integration, plasma-based entropic modulation, wide-spectrum cellular fusion from low level radiation... something! Anything! But no freaking way can there be a real freaking werewolf running loose!” Less than a second of time passed before the mainframe extrapolated the data entered, displaying the exact same results again.

“AHHHHHH! DAMMIT!” he screamed, slamming his fist against the table.

“Jerry! Quiet down in there!” an elderly voice called from outside. “Do you want me to come down there, Mister?”

“No, Grandma,” he yelled back tersely. “I’m sorry. Go back to watching Matlock, I’ll keep it quiet.” Dang it, one of these days I have GOT to move out of this basement and get my own place.

“Jerry? Did you pick up that package I set outside the door yet?”

“Huh?” A package? Wheeling his motorized wheelchair to the steps, he activated the chairlift, bringing him up to the cellar door. Opening it, he found a small brown paper parcel sitting just outside the door. He picked it up, turned it over, and frowned: the package was unsigned. “Hey, Grandma? Who sent me this package? There’s no note on it.”

A grey haired woman’s head peered down at him from the stairs leading to the kitchen. “That’s from that lady friend of yours, you know, the nice school teacher... um... what’s her name? I forgot... but you know the one I mean.”

“Lacie?” Jerry smirked, untying the package. “Heh. Probably feels bad for being so curt with me before. Wonder what she sent me?”

Grandma started to walk away, but stopped. “Oh, yeah, there was a message with it as well. She said to tell you, ‘Omega Girl sends her thanks’, whatever that means.” Nodding, the elderly woman turned back to the kitchen.

“Hmm, well that was rather sweet of... huh? What? WHAT did she say?!?” His hand froze, clutching the last inch of string. Something was very very wrong. Other than himself, the only two people that knew Lacie Gilbertson was Omega Girl were her fiancé, Gene Frasier, and her new friend and confidant, Eva Snow. There was no way she would leave such a message with someone not already in the know, even if it was a sweet helpless old lady like his Grandma. Which meant...

“Grandma?”

Returning to the doorway, looking very put out, “Jerry, what?”

“The girl that left the package for me. What did she look like? Black hair? Blue eyes? Tall, maybe six feet even?”

Grandma thought for a moment. “Well, her hair was dark, but had kind of a reddish tint to it. Oh, and her eyes were green, not blue.”

Damn. “Grandma, I think we better—”

At that moment, the package in his hand began to buzz, vibrating vigorously. Eyes wide, Jerry tossed the package as deep into the basement as he could, and turned to his grandma. “Get ou—”

Across the street, Maddison Jeffries watched in savage pleasure as an explosion rocked the small suburban house. Glass shattered as windows exploded outward. A bright plume of flame erupted from one side of the house as an entire section of the wall simply disintegrated. Taking her finger off the detonator, she sighed in bliss, feeling her Master and Mentor’s loving touch, and hearing his voice in her head, as she basked in the pleasure of a job well done. Recovering quickly, she started her car and drove off, leaving the scene well before the neighbors could call for the fire department and ambulance. She smiled, knowing they would arrive much too late.

“Thank you for flying Pan-Trans Airlines. The local time is 6:52 PM. Have a good evening.”

Parker Albinn walked out of the terminal, his duffle bag clutched tightly against his chest. Making his way into the bathroom, he glanced at the mirror, then turned away quickly. The sight of his pale grayish-green complexion was almost enough to push his queasy stomach past its limits. A man in a navy blazer looked at him and did a double-take.

“Damn! Hey, kid, buddy, you okay? You need a doctor or something?”

Parker just waved a hand, leaning over the sink. Turning on the sink, he splashed some cold water over his face. “I’m fine,” he managed after a moment. “Flying... and me... urp... we don’t g-get along... I get airsick... really bad.”

The man nodded. “Ah, I see. You know, you can get medication for that, Dramamine, or something.”

Parker held up a small plastic bottle. “Have it. Got a prescription from my doctor, the extra strength kind.” He splashed more water onto his face. “If you think... urp... I look bad now... you should see me... urp... if I fly and DON’T take my meds...”

Shaking his head in amusement, the man walked away. Parker sighed deeply, blotting his face dry. It was so totally unfair. He had no aversion to flying... well, he wasn’t AFRAID to fly, at any rate. It just... made him sick on his stomach. Horribly sick. Puking-up-green-pea-soup-from-the-Exorcist sick.

It’s humiliating, he thought glumly. In my twenty-point-five years, I’ve been shot, stabbed, nearly blown up, almost run over by a semi... and the thing that will probably KILL me is my own damn stomach the next time I take a plane.

Unzipping his duffel bag, he sorted through a thick stack of compact discs. “Hmmm. What sounds good after a six hour flight?” he mused lightly. Unable to decide between Mozart and Enya, he closed his eyes and picked one at random. “Hmmm. ‘And Then There Was X,’ by DMX. Not exactly the most calming, restful choice... but hell, that thumpin’ gangsta beat should really give me a charge.” Shrugging, he slid the CD into the player and turned it on. Immediately, he felt better, his grayish color blooming into a more healthy shade of pink.

“Yeah... uh... uh... what? Uh... uh...” Parker started bopping his head in synch with the music. Pausing at the doorway of the restroom, he frowned. “Huh? Wait a second... there’s only one gun shot in this song... there sure as hell are no machine guns in the background of ‘Here We Go Again.” Clicking off the CD player, Parker heard the screams as well, coming from just outside the door. “Ahhh, shit!” He hissed, ducking back inside, moving into one of the toilet stalls.

You’ve GOT to be kidding me! he thought furiously. Machine guns?!? How in the HELL did anyone manage to get machine guns past airport security? I was stopped and searched because the X-ray scan picked up the batteries in my CD player and my Nintendo DS, which look NOTHING like bullets or explosives! Damn!

Outside, in the terminal, two masked gunmen, each armed with Uzi’s, were keeping the crowd of people back, while a third gunman holding a Ruger P345 stepped over the motionless body of one man to tower over the huddled form of a second man, dressed in a black business suit and tie. “Get up, Mr. Sellars,” the leader of the trio gestured with his Ruger. “You’re coming with us. Our boss wasn’t happy about you deciding to turn State’s Witness, so he sent us down here to meet you, and have a little chat with you... see if we can ‘convince’ you to change your testimony.”

“No! NO, please!” the grey haired man begged as he jerked hard to his feet. “Let me go! I... I’ll pay you! Whatever he’s paying you, I’ll double it.” The gunman frowned. “I mean, triple it!” The gunman sighed and fired, shooting the pleading man in his left thigh, causing him to fall, screaming in pain.

“You think you can BUY your way outta this, Sellars?” the gunman yelled, glaring down at him. “You little pissant dickwad son of a bitch, this isn’t ABOUT money! This is about loyalty. Trust. Honor. Three words that don’t mean jack shit to you, or you wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place! Now get on your feet, you fucker, before I put another bullet in you!”

“I... I... c-c-an’t...” he whined pitifully. “Oh God, oh God... my leg... Oh God!”

The gunman growled, sticking the barrel of the gun under the man’s chin. “Keep saying ‘Oh God”, and you’re gonna see Him in person! Not GET ON YOUR FEET! NOW!”

“Hey, Brainiac,” a youthful voice called from behind them, “are you hard of hearing, or just forgetful. He CAN’T stand up. Some IDIOT with a mask and a gun just shot him in the leg.”

The leader whirled around, blinking, staring at nothing. “What? Who said that?”

“Hmmm, maybe you’re not deaf and forgetful after all,” the youthful voice replied, coming from behind again, as the man whirled back around to, again, face no one. “Maybe you’re just stupid.”

Angered beyond reason, the gunman pointed the gun at the weeping Mr. Sellars, and cocked the trigger. “Fuck this! Whoever you are, come out right now, or I blow his fucking brains out!”

“Hey, now, LANGUAGE!” the voice said again, this time form down the hallway, as a skinny young man dressed all in red stepped into view. “There are a lot of women and children in this crowd, ya know. You should set a better example.”

One of the Uzi-holding gunmen stepped forward, chuckling. “Hey, Frankie, get a load of this guy! Geez, he’s just a fuckin’ kid! Look at ‘im!” He laughed. “What’s the matter kid, mommy didn’t finish your laundry, so you had to go out in your long johns or something?”

The youth frowned, bristling at the comment. “Now that’s just plain RUDE! First of all, I’m not a kid... I’m, uh, well, just small for my age, that’s all. And the name’s Super Sonic. I should give you guys fair warning... if you drop the guns and leave, you’ll only go to jail. If you keep insulting my costume, then I’ll have to beat the snot outta you, and THEN haul yer sorry butts off to jail.”

The other gunmen laughed, as well as part of the crowd. Geez. I’m even being dissed by the people I’m trying to save! I should have stayed in the damned bathroom.

The leader stepped forward then, and unlike everyone else, he was not amused. “So, kid, you’re ‘Super Sonic’ eh? Some kind of teenaged super hero, huh? Well guess what? This ain’t some kind of stupid game. This AIN’T some fuckin’ Saturday morning cartoon! I ain’t no Fucking Papa Smurf!” he said, pointing the gun at Super Sonic’s head, “and THIS sure as hell ain’t no fuckin’ magic wand!”

Super Sonic licked his lips. “Yeah. Well... I knew that. One, your way too tall to be a smurf... and second, you’re not blue.”

The gunman blinked, then smiled evilly. “Okay, so you’re not a pussy. You ain’t afraid of my gun? Fine. That’s okay. It’s not the gun you have to worry about anyway... its the bullets. So... Super Sonic... think you’re faster than a speeding bullet, do ya? Well, we’re about to find out.”

Super Sonic held out a hand, palm forward. “Wait! Hold it, dude. Okay, um, you, like, REALLY do not want to do that. It will be really really bad, especially in a closed in place like this! I mean, yeah, the carpeting helps some, but at this close a range, ricochets could be bad, plus that thing is gonna be loud—”

“Shut the fuck up, kid!” the man snarled, firing.

Parker saw the bullet coming towards him, as if in slow motion. Panic gripped him, instinctively, even though he knew he was perfectly safe. The name ‘Super Sonic’ was both true and misleading; true, if he needed to, he could move at superhuman speeds near mach one, as long as he had sufficient shielding from air friction. His power, however, lay not in speed, but in sound. Super Sonic’s body absorbed, controlled, and radiated sound as he chose, even to the point of shielding himself in a barrier of pure discordant sound waves. As the bullet came into contact with the sound energy, its forward motion slowed, then stopped, the bullet appearing to hang in midair for a full second, before shooting back the direction it had come. The shell struck the gunman in his hand, sending the weapon flying. Crying out in shock and surprise, he clutched his bleeding hand, and jerked back, staring at the young hero in stunned horror.

Parker, for his part, was nearly reeling from the sudden surge of sound energy given off by the gun at such close range. It always took a second or two to absorb and integrate energy surges into his sound matrix, turning into useful energy, but when the other two gunmen reacted to the sight of their leader going down, he knew he had only enough time to go with his instincts.

“Kill him!” the leader yelled out, even as his two associated opened fire.

Super Sonic dove for the ground, reaching out a gloved hand towards the two gunmen even as they began to shoot. The stream of hot lead flew over him, skittering harmlessly off the walls. He let loose a sonic blast, sending a focused concussive energy wave towards the gunmen. Before they could turn to aim for his new position, the wave struck, hitting not the men, but their guns. The hot metal vibrated fiercely in their grip, and an instant later, the weapons shattered, sending debris and bullets in all directions.

“Shit,” Super Sonic mumbled, regaining his feet. “That could have gone better.”

The two gunmen lay twitching on the ground, cut and bleeding from a hundred wounds by their own exploded weapons. The leader, Frankie, sat on the ground, wide-eyed, clutching his bleeding hand, as Parker approached him. “Why do you dumbasses always have to do everything the HARD way? Geez... look at this mess.” He sighed, as the man pulled a knife from his belt. “Oh come on!” Parker groaned. “You CAN’T be serious! After all this, you STILL haven’t given up?” The crazed killer responded by lashing out with the knife, trying to gut the youth. Parker’s eyes narrowed. “All right then,” he said, focusing his powers for his famed ‘Sonic Punch’, “we’ll do it YOUR way.”

The man half rose to his knees, moving in a sudden, fluid move, extending his reach to its maximum. Had Parker not already been moving, the blade would easily have eviscerated him. As it was, Super Sonic had expected the attack, and readied one of his own. Rearing back, he brought his left fist up with all his might, focusing his sonic powers into his fist. The hit connected, sending a concussive blast of force to bear on the hapless man’s skull. Eyes rolling back into his head, Frankie went down for the count, his knife dropping harmlessly to the floor.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Parker glanced around, assessing the situation. A lot of frightened people, but only a few actual injuries, the worst being the gunmen that had caused the incident. Several people with gunshot wounds, needing medical attention, and one dead. Parker sighed deeply, shaking his head. Such a waste.

A voice behind him caused him to turn. “Thank you, sir,” a blonde airline attendant said hesitantly. “If you hadn’t been here... I don’t know what would have happened.”

Probably would have been less of a mess, he thought glumly. Out loud he replied, “Think nothing of it, ma’am. It’s what we do... stopping the bad guys, and helping people in need. Speaking of which, can anyone call the paramedics and maybe the police? You’ve got some people here that need to be checked out, and three assholes needing locked up.”

“Oh, sure. Airport security was called soon as the shooting started. The police will be here in a few minutes, along with an ambulance.” She smiled softly. “You really saved the day, Super Sonic.”

Parker blushed hotly behind his mask. “Um, er, well good. Glad to be of, um, service.” Glancing around, he said, “Well... um... guess I’ll be heading out now... seems like the situation here is under control... security can handle things from here.” Without another word, Super Sonic left, streaking down the hallways leaving a streak of blurry red in his wake.

Moments later, Parker returned, dressed again in his street clothes. Making his way past the crowds of curious onlookers, he entered the bathroom. Glancing around the empty bathroom stalls, he cursed loudly, kicking the stall. “Dammit! I can’t believe it! Someone jacked my tapes while I was gone!” He smacked his forehead. “All my tapes, all my CD’s... all that damn fine music...” Opening up his CD player, he sighed. “Well, I still have the one I took with me. It’ll have to do for now, I guess.” Sigh. “Oh well. I better get going. Aunt Eva’s going to be expecting me at arrive at her place before seven, so I’d better get a move on.” Picking up his emptied duffel bag, he left the bathroom, and headed for the terminal entrance.

Eva awoke slowly, her head feeling as if her brain was wrapped in wet wool. Her hand hurt, and she felt cold. She reached out to pull the covers up over her naked body... only to jerk fully awake. She was lying naked on her couch in the office, NOT in her bed at home. What the hell—

“Ah, I see you are awake.”

Memory flooded back to her. With a gasp, Eva sat up stiffly, then groaned, a wave of dizziness nearly making her vomit. Female laughter sounded behind her.

“Careful now. The gas tends to make one a bit nauseous when they first wake up. It wouldn’t do for you to soil yourself, and this lovely office of yours.”

Shaking her head slightly, Eva’s vision cleared, and she gasped again at the sight of an exotically beautiful woman walking around to face her. “What... what’s going on? Who are you?” She frowned. “Where’s Melissa?”

The woman sat down in Eva’s recliner across from her, crossing her long satin smooth legs. “Ah, your secretary? She served her purpose. I will assume she has been given further instructions from the good doctor, and run off to claim her reward.” She waved her hand dismissively. “It matters not. You’re not REALLY concerned about your betrayer at the moment, are you?” She smiled, a feral grin showing pearly white teeth. “Why don’t you ask what’s REALLY on your mind?”

Eva scowled. She moved to stand up, but she felt weak, drained. The gas, she supposed, had affected her more than she’d thought. Her powers were not working right either; try as she might, she couldn’t read the woman in front of her... other than a vague feeling and a lot of what she called ‘mind static’. “What’s this all about?” she asked as forcefully as she could manage. “What do you want from me?”

Amber sighed softly. “Well, that’s not REALLY what you were thinking, but its close enough to the truth that I’ll answer both your questions, spoken and unspoken.” She uncrossed her legs and leaned forward. “You see, Dr. Snow, this is about settling a debt... a vendetta that is rapidly drawing to a close. And no, its not against you, personally. No... you are merely a side note in a diabolical plan to destroy Omega Girl.” Seeing Eva’s alarm, she chuckled. “Yes. We know who she is, and who you are, ‘Whitewash’. My Ma... my EMPLOYER,” she amended, “took a few precautions against memory manipulation, and although it took several months to undo the alteration that you and your psychic friends performed, he managed to regain complete memories of the events prior to the fabled ‘Mind Five’ incident.” She grinned. “So, we are taking you out of the picture merely as a way to keep you from warning or helping your friend once the time comes to attack her.”

Shit! SHIT! I can’t probe her! Eva thought furiously. It’s like trying to probe a brick wall! Has she somehow stripped me of my powers?!? No... no, I can still sense people around me... I can feel three women down on the street walking by... so it must be just her. Damn. In my current condition, I don’t think I can take her on my own... need to call for help. Out loud she said, “Surely you don’t think I am going to stand by and let you—”

“Silence!” Amber growled. Immediately, Eva shut up, surprising herself. Standing up, the Latino girl glared down at Eva, her smile seeming even more feral than before. “You are powerless to do ANYTHING that I do not allow you to do. I have been toying with you all this time, my dear, but I think it is time I showed you just WHO is in control here. Look deep into my eyes, my thrall,” she commanded, locking eyes with her.

Eva blinked. That’s her plan? She wants to hypnotize me? She grinned inwardly. Fine, lady, bring it on! I’m a trained hypnotist as well as a psychic. If you want a test of wills, bring it!

OH, SO YOU THINK? a loud voice boomed back in Eva’s mind, startling her. YOU ARE VERY MISTAKEN. YOU ARE MY THRALL, EVA SNOW! A strange feeling of helplessness swept over the psychic heroine, and she shuddered, struggling to turn away and break eye contact. The green eyes locked to hers seemed to glow slightly, and the woman’s face changed, her smooth flawless skin growing fuzzy, then hairy, as her nose and mouth began to elongate. YOU BARE MY MARK, THRALL, the beast-woman hissed in her mind, AND SO, YOUR WILL IS NOW MINE TO COMMAND.

Eva moaned softly, still struggling to avert her gaze. The words seemed to boom in her head, obliterating all her other thoughts, leaving her dazed and confused. Her mind seemed to be growing as fuzzy as the woman who had captured her gaze. Something was wrong, seriously wrong, but for the life of her, she was unable to remember exactly what it was. A sudden heat erupted in her left hand, sending a shudder of pleasure through her, numbing her mind even as it awakened her senses. Had she been aware enough to glance down, she would have seen her hand stretch, her fingernails sharpening and thickening into claws, her skin covering with thick grey fur.

Amber’s lips curled in pleasure as she watched her latest thrall change, both physically and mentally, to suit her needs. A very familiar warmth spread through her loins at the sight of the lovely woman’s body changing. Large heavy D sized breasts grew larger, firmer, fuller, before being covered in a light spread of silver fur. Eva’s beautiful face lengthened into a wolf’s muzzle as well, which strangely took nothing away from her beauty, giving the grey and silver hybrid a type of exotic beauty—strong, powerful, yet at the same time very erotic.

“Thrall,” Amber breathed softly, as the change drew to completion.

Eva’s eyes, wide and blank, focused directly on her. At a gesture from her Mistress, the entranced woman rose from the couch, and knelt demurely between the standing woman’s legs. At a nod from her Mistress, she leaned forward, extending her rough canine tongue.

Amber growled softly, eyes half-closing in pleasure. “Good, very very good, thrall,” she rasped between breaths. “Drink deep of your Mistress’ juices... imprint my taste... my scent... my very being... into your primitive animal brain. I am your Leader, your Queen, your Alpha... mmmmmmmm... yeesss... drink deeply... lap up my nectar.. until it is so deeply a part of you... that obedience to me... becomes instinct, rather than thought... binding you tighter... ohh goddess, yes... tighter... than the strongest... chains... ahhh, I’m coming, I’m COMING!! AAAARRRRROOUUUUUUGGGGGGHHHH!!” Hearing her Mistress’ pleasure ignited Eva’s own orgasm, though even her body’s shudders of pleasure were unable to break through the mental fog surrounding her true mind.

Finally, recovering herself, Amber pushed her new thrall away from her, kneeling down to lock gazes with her again. “Now, my thrall,” she purred softly, “listen carefully. This is how you shall help us to crush Omega Girl...”