The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

He slapped me so hard, I saw stars.

Shaun was a big guy; my head snapped sideways at the unexpected blow. I spun back immediately, but Lawrence leaped between us, warning Shaun that another stunt like that would get him disqualified. The asshole had hit me before the bell even sounded.

The bar crowd booed, and it was obvious Lawrence was pissed as well. If Lawrence hadn’t been pissed, he wouldn’t have left the guy in the chain-link cage with me.

“What?” said my opponent. “You think I’m gonna hold back just ‘cause you’re a girl? You’re getting an ass whuppin’ tonight, bitch!”

I didn’t bother to answer

The bell sounded and he moved in. He was surprisingly fast for a big guy.

My cheek still warm from his cheap shot, I stepped forward, but made no move to assume a defensive stance. Instead, I leaped and delivered a barefooted snap-kick to his midsection.

His breath exploded from him and he staggered back a step. He remained standing, however, and I was suitably impressed. That kick would have dropped a smaller man. Respiration was a chore for him at the moment, however, so I waited politely for him to catch his breath.

Shaun finally stood straight again. “Lucky shot, bitch,” he said.

“Are we going to talk or fight?” I asked. “Do you need to throw up? I can wait.” I said it loud enough for everyone in the bar to hear.

Hearing the patrons’ laughter, he scowled and charged, hands extended to grab me. I caught his wrists and let momentum do the rest. As I rolled back, I planted my feet in his midsection once more and launched his pelvis straight up in the oldest judo move in the book. I released his wrists as his legs flew up and over, and he landed on his back with a thud that rattled the chain-link cage.

I rolled to my feet instantly. Shaun was a bit slower getting up.

“C’mon now, big man,” I said. “You’re not letting a little girl beat you up now, are you?”

Shaun didn’t answer. He was losing his bravado and cutting glances at the door to the cage. Lawrence was standing conveniently in front of it and pretending not to notice the air of desperation Shaun was generating.

Shaun lifted his fists and dropped into a boxing stance. “C’mon, bitch!” he said. “I can take you!”

It was time. He shuffled forward and I lifted my knee like I was going to snap-kick him again. His hands dropped instinctively to protect his stomach, and I rotated my hips and wheel-kicked him in the jaw.

He stumbled several steps to the side and appeared to have trouble standing. I sidled sideways a step, then spun, delivering a back roundhouse kick to his already tender midsection.

He wuffed again and flew back into the chain-link fence that formed the cage around us. He was dazed now and a little scared.

“All right,” he said. “I…I’ve had-“

I knew he was trying to concede, but I didn’t let him finish. I stepped up and proceeded to beat the monkey out of him.

I hit him with flat palms and knuckled fists. I slashed him with stiffened fingers and kicked him with rigid toes. I beat him bloody, and he was crying as he begged me to stop.

Lawrence put a hand on my shoulder, and I paused. Shaun dropped to the canvas.

“He’s had enough, Cale,” said Lawrence.

“Yeah, I know,” I said, letting the anger drain slowly. I realized the bar crowd had been applauding the entire time I had been beating Shaun. “I’m still taking my prize, though.”

“Hell, yeah,” said Lawrence. “I just didn’t want you to beat him too senseless for you to enjoy it.”

Shaun had rolled onto his hands and knees. He was shaking his head, trying to clear it.

I placed a bare foot on his shoulder and pushed. He fell to his side.

“Still think I’m a bitch, Shaun?” I said. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

“Look, Cale, enough, all right?” said Shaun. “You don’t need to-“

I placed my bare foot on the side of his face, pressing his cheek to the canvas. “You want to try that sentence again,” I said, “while you still have all your teeth?”

“Huh?” said Shaun. His swelling mouth made it was difficult to understand him. “I just said I had enough.”

“You called me Cale,” I said.

He was squirming under my foot. “Well…yeah,” he said. “That’s your-“

I pressed my bare toes into his cheek. “You don’t get to call me Cale,” I said. “Try again.”

“Awww, c’mon,” he said. “What are you…twenty-five years old? Don’t make me mpppphhhh…!”

His words had become garbled as I pressed his face harder into the mat. “Twenty-three,” I said. “Last chance.” His already battered face was taking even more abuse.

“Mmmmpphhhh!” he said.

I released the pressure, although I left my foot on his cheek. “What was that?”

“Mistress,” he said in a low voice.

“Louder, Shaun,” I said. “They can’t hear you.”

“Please stop…Mistress!” he said, eyes down.

“Very good, little boy,” I said. “Are we sorry for hitting Mistress with such a cheap shot?”

“Yes…” he whispered. His cheeks were wet. Poor baby.

I took my foot off his face and placed it next to his mouth. Deep red imprints the shape of my toes decorated his cheek. “You know what to do, Shaun,” I said.

He was beaten and he knew it. He pressed his swollen lips to my bare foot. He remained like that for several seconds. Then he proceeded to lick my toes. The crowd whistled and cat-called.

Lawrence shook his head. “Why do you make them call you that?” he asked. “You’re not really a dominatrix, are you?”

“Of course not,” I said, “but it knocks their self-esteem right down…particularly after getting their ass kicked by a little girl.”

“Cale,” said Lawrence, “you’re a girl, but hardly little.”

I grinned at his words. I was tall for a girl, but not that tall. I was very athletically built, however.

“True,” I said. “Anyway, I doubt anybody in this backwater bar knows the difference.”

I glanced at my fallen opponent as he obediently licked my toes. “All right,” I said. “You can stop. Get up.”

He stopped and got slowly to his feet. His face was already bruising.

“Now, give me your clothes,” I said, “and you can go.”

“Awwww, c’mon, umm, Mistress,” he said. “How am I supposed to get home?”

“Not my problem,” I said. Using my power was really tempting at this point. It wasn’t necessary, though, and I wasn’t sure who my next opponent was, so I decided not to risk it. “Now give me your clothes before I send you home in one of my dresses.” I crouched down in a position that suggested I was going to kick him again. Eyes wet, he sat down and pulled off his boots, followed by his socks.

Lawrence leaned close to me. “Do you even own a dress?”

“No,” I said, “But Shaun doesn’t know that.”

“True, that,” said Lawrence.

“Wow, Shaun,” I said. “Is that all you got? I see why you cheap-shotted me. You were overcompensating.”

The crowd was laughing and pointing now, and thrown beer splattered his naked body. He wasn’t really that small, but this blood-thirsty crew loved to jump on a loser. Savages.

The bar was a converted barn. The chain-link cage was a twenty-by-twenty cube set in the middle of the floor. Wooden tables were placed without thought to aesthetics and unmatched chairs lined the walls. Whirling ceiling fans did little to dissipate the mass of hovering cigarette smoke. The service bar consisted of several planks lying across several side-by-side barrels. Nobody cared. Patrons didn’t come here for the ambience. This was where I made my living, such as it was.

I had time before my next fight, so I sat at the bar. I nodded to the hulking barkeep.

“Hey, Pete,” I said.

“Hey, Cale,” he rumbled, his voice as bristly as his mountain man beard. “Nice fight. Little hard on him, though, weren’t you?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I don’t care. He pissed me off.”

Pete pushed a warm bottle of water toward me. “Seems ‘most to all men have that ‘fect on you.”

I pretended to think about that for a moment, then nodded. “Yep,” I said. “That sounds about right. Maybe that’s because most men are assholes.”

Pete shrugged. “Yep, true ‘nuff,” he said, “though I don’t think womens are really any better.”

I swallowed a mouthful of water. “Women are insane,” I said. “Whinier, too. More fun in the sack, though.”

Pete spoke very carefully. “You, ah, gots a basis for comparison?”

I felt a momentary surge of irritation, but let it pass. Pete wasn’t a bad guy. “I’m a lesbian, Pete…not a virgin.”

He nodded. It wasn’t a full answer, but it was all he was going to get.

I took another swallow of water. Then a voice said, “Hey, barkeep, who’s the sexy lady?”

I glanced over my shoulder and saw Lawrence, the owner/manager of the establishment.

“You think you’re funny, Lawrence?”

“Ain’t I?”

“I sorta like you, Lawrence,” I said, “so I’m gonna let you pick which bone of yours I break.”

Lawrence contrived a reproachful expression. “Is that any way to talk to your boss?”

“You’re not my boss,” I said. “You’re my promoter.”

“Mercenary wench,” he said, good-naturedly. He looked at Pete and nodded. “Gimme a brew, big man. Cold, if we got any.”

“All right, boss,” said Pete. “I’m going in back, get some ice. Cover the bar a minute?”

We watched Pete turn and squeeze his bulk through the door that was right behind him. Pete chuckled.

“He’s bigger than the guys I hired to bounce,” he said.

“I noticed,” I said. “How’d you get him to work for you, anyway? You guys run shine together or something?”

Lawrence shrugged. “He came in one night when I first opened,” he said. “Parked his Harley outside and drank for eight straight hours. I finally told him to leave, ‘cuz I was closing. He didn’t appreciate it, but we talked about it and he eventually left.”

“I broke a chair over his head,” said Pete, suddenly behind the bar again. “He got up ‘n kicked me in the balls so hard, I walked lopsided for a week.”

I laughed.

A stranger sat down on the stool next to mine. I knew he was a stranger, because regulars knew better than to get too close to me. Also, the patch covering his left eye was distinctive. It gave him a grizzled, ominous air, but I wasn’t fooled. I knew what he was.

“Yeah?” said Pete, the soul of courtesy.

“Give me a shot of something that won’t blind me,” said the stranger in a gravelly voice, “and give the lady another water.”

I shook my head. “Don’t give the lady anything on that tab, Pete,” I said, not looking at the stranger, “and tell him that if he tries to buy me anything else, I’ll break his fingers.”

Lawrence, sensing a potential problem, intervened. “Say, don’t think I’ve seen you here before, mister.”

“You’re right,” said the stranger. “I’m just passing through.”

Lawrence looked him over appraisingly. “Pretty far off the beaten path there, feller,” he said.

“Yes,” said the man.

Pete hadn’t moved to make the drink. The two bouncers that normally stood by the door glided closer. Lawrence was getting irritated by the man’s non-enlightening answers and was ready to lean on him harder.

I made an indelicate sound. Lawrence turned.

“Military,” I said.

Pete took a casual step back and the two bouncers paused.

Lawrence narrowed his eyes. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Officers have a distinct smell, like dead fish.”

Lawrence glanced at the stranger appraisingly.

The man turned his head easily. “I’m here on my own time,” he said. “I have no professional interest in your establishment.”

It was difficult to see his good eye in the light. He sounded amused.

Lawrence shifted, undecided. He didn’t like strangers, but he was too vulnerable legally to risk crossing the military, either. He finally nodded once to Pete, who still looked unconvinced, but grudgingly prepared the stranger’s drink.

I stood. “The air’s gotten a bit rancid,” I said. “I’m going to get ready for my next fight.”

The stranger lifted his shot glass in my direction in a mock toast. I turned and stalked away.

My next opponent would have been an inch shorter than my 5′11″, but the five-inch stiletto-heeled thigh boots gave us a four-inch difference.

I stared at her incredulously. “Stiletto boots?” I said. “In a cage fight? Seriously?”

Mistress Brandy smiled. The dominatrix had auburn hair and moved like a cat. Her leather bustier propped her heavy boobs, creating a delicious valley of cleavage that had the attention of every man in the bar.

“Of course, sweetie,” said Brandy. “I have a reputation to uphold. And a new one established, after I’ve beaten you.” She turned to Lawrence. “Show the girl what’s in store for her, dear.”

The crowd hooted and whistled as Lawrence held out a black leather collar of good quality. A padlock dangled from a metal joint.

Interesting. Brandy admitted no equals and brooked no rivals. She kept a number of captured subbie girls, and two previously self-declared Mistresses now wore her collar. My indomitable rep had proved irresistible to the dominatrix, and she was determined to add me to her chain.

“You’re going to be a prize, sweetie,” she said. “My enforcer, I think. Yes.”

Brandy was confident. She was fast, she was strong, and she was resourceful. This wasn’t really her style, though. She wasn’t a scrapper.

Then I found it. The burning bright light. She was wired hot.

I smiled. “You talk a good fight,” I said, “but you’re going to look good on your knees, Brandy.”

Brandy laughed, a musical sound. She turned to Lawrence. “Ring the bell, dear,” she said. “It’s time for me to spank the little girl.”

Somebody tapped the bell with a hammer. Brandy stepped forward like she was on a red carpet, but made no move to approach me. “Come, sweetie,” she said. “Aren’t you going to use your blazing speed and roughhouse moves to beat me senseless?”

I walked toward her in a casual manner. “Yes,” I said, “but I don’t have to hurry. This will be easy.”

“You’re right about that, My little Cale,” said Brandy, the light in her mind getting brighter, “easy…but sweet.”

I stepped up to her, my posture casual. I reached out and slid a finger into her cleavage.

“Nice,” I said.

“Thank you,” she said. “Now why don’t you show me yours?”

Her mindlight flashed. I could feel the pressure on my outer lobes.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “I didn’t quite catch that.”

Her mindlight continued glowing brightly. “I said, why don’t you show me yours…”

Brandy sounded less certain now, and for good reason. She was discovering that whatever abilities her mindlight provided her, they didn’t affect me.

“Nobody wants to see mine, Brandy,” I said, smiling. “Mine are much too small. Now, yours on the other hand…”

Her mindlight was flashing now as she tried desperately to penetrate my mental immunity.

My smile broadened, but my voice became ice-cold. “Take off your top, Brandy,” I said, “and shake your tits for the crowd.”

The crowd was jeering now. They didn’t know about the mental gymnastics taking place, of course, but they did understand that Brandy was losing her nerve.

She hesitated. Then, surprisingly, she decided to fight.

She swiped her long nails at my eyes and tried to punch me in the throat. The swipe was a good idea, but it missed. I forearm blocked the punch and then backhanded the dominatrix across the mouth.

She stumbled back a step, nearly losing her footing because of the stiletto boots. Her back was to the chain-linked fencing now and she shuffled sideways along the fence, trying to stay out of my reach.

I followed her progress along the fencing, amused. Her eyes narrowed, but she wasn’t looking at me anymore. Then I realized what she was doing.

Lawrence blinked and his eyes began to lose focus. The collar and padlock dropped from his hands.

I shook my head, then looked back at Brandy.

“Clever,” I said, “but stupid. You could have gotten out of here with just a beating. Now you’re getting a night you won’t forget for a long time.”

Brandy smirked at me as Lawrence moved in. I spun away from Lawrence, however, and grabbed Brandy’s forearm. Then I popped a flash-bulb in her brain.

Brandy’s head jerked back and her body shuddered at the sudden mental short-circuit. She fell back twitching like she had received an actual electric shock, which, in a way, she had.

Lawrence’s eyes cleared and he slipped back into his corner. Satisfied that he was fine, I turned my attention back to Brandy.

“All right,” I said, “let’s get started.”

I wanted to pop-bulb her again, but I had just done it. I had to wait until I recharged, and this fight would be long over by the time that happened. Instead, I drove my fist into her flat belly.

Brandy’s eyes were still dazed, and now she dropped to her knees, struggling to catch her breath.

“E-enough,” she said, “No more…”

“Fine by me,” I said. “Strip.”

“Strip?” she said. “Look…I’ll shake my tits for them, all right? You don’t have to-“

“Strip!” I said. “Now.”

She hesitated, and I backhanded her in the mouth. Just a quick shot at quarter-strength, enough to show her I meant business. It caught her unaware, however, and she fell backward.

She blinked, trying to clear her head. I took a step forward, and her hands flew to the laces of her leather thigh boots.

It took some work, but she pulled the first boot off and pushed it away. She then worked the second boot as well. She was still wearing her bustier and bikini bottom, but she seemed naked as she sat on the ground, her long legs and feet bare.

I reached down and pulled the lace free that was holding her bustier together. Bending down and grabbing both sides of the bustier, I pulled it loose, then stood up.

“Arms up,” I said.

“Please…” she said. I held up my hand and her arms went up.

“It’s good for you,” I said, pulling the bustier straight up and off her body. “You gotta let the puppies breathe once in a while.”

The guys in the crowd were hooting and hollering now. It was rare for me to fight a woman, particularly one as attractive as Brandy. The crowd was showing its appreciation.

“Stand up, slut,” I said, and Brandy got to her feet. She was trying to act non-chalant, but she was a Mistress…she wasn’t used to being a slut on display. She looked much smaller and vulnerable without her leather and boots.

“Spin around, cutie,” I said. “Do a little pirouette.”

Teeth clenched, cheeks burning, Brandy did so. Her boobs were large enough that it took several heartbeats for them to quit jiggling when she stopped.

I turned her around so she was facing the crowd instead of me. I let my hands slide down from her shoulders to her waist. My fingers pinched the sides of her bikini bottom waistband.

“No!” she said. “Please don’t strip me fully naked. I’ll do whatever you say. Men aren’t allowed to see my pussy without my permission.”

“You’re in my ring,” I said, “and I just kicked your ass. I can show them anything I want.” With those words, I slid her bikini bottom down her legs to her ankles. The crowd cheered and threw beer as she grudgingly stepped out of her last article of clothing.

I put my arm around her bare shoulders and made a show of walking her around the cage, making sure everybody got a good look.

“Is this really necessary?” she said.

“Yes,” I said.

“How did you do that, anyway?” asked Brandy. “Nobody’s ever resisted me before.”

“Nobody gets into my mind unless I let them,” I said.

“And that…whatever it is you did? When it felt like you turned my mind inside-out?”

I chuckled. “The mental short-circuit?” I said. “That’s nothing, really. Just a little trick I happen to be good at.” Actually, it took everything I had to do it and I could only do it once every couple hours, but I wasn’t going to tell Brandy that.

Halfway through our circuit, we reached Lawrence. I put out my hand and he handed me the leather collar.

“Chin up, sweetie,” I said.

Brandy’s eyes widened. “No!” she said. “You can’t collar me! You can’t!”

I hardened my voice. “Watch me.”

“No!” she said, and she hit me with every ounce of mental strength she had.

I looked at her casually, feeling the pressure, but otherwise unaffected. “Are you finished?” I asked politely. Without waiting for an answer, I reached out and grabbed her hair.

“Owwwwww…!” she said.

“Get on your knees,” I said.

She resisted for a moment, but she never had a chance. Her legs buckled and the domme found herself kneeling.

I pulled her head back so that she was staring straight up. Then I released my grip. I took the collar and wrapped it around her throat. I secured the buckle, then hooked the padlock in place. She shuddered when she felt the padlock lock.

I pulled the key from the padlock and stuck it in my waistband. “Now, Brandy, tell me what you are.”

“What…what do you mean…?” she asked.

“You’re kneeling naked in front of me and everybody here. You can’t be a Mistress if you’re doing that. You must be some kind of subbie slut.”

“I’m not!” she said. “I’m not! I’m-“

“Lick me, Brandy,” I said, stepping closer.

Her eyes widened. “I…I can’t…!” she said.

“Of course you can,” I said. “It just takes a little effort.”

“I mean…I don’t know how.”

“Don’t try to be…oh, wait, you’ve never actually done this to someone else before, have you?” I said, suddenly understanding.

“No, I haven’t,” she said, cheeks burning. “I’ve always been the one in charge.”

“Perfect!” I said. “That’s even better. Start licking.”

“But…!” she said, and I stiffened. She’d been a domme long enough to know the warning signs, and her shoulders dropped. Without another word, she took a deep breath and leaned forward.

Brandy pulled my shorts and panties as far down my hips as she dared without exposing me to the crowd. She hooked her chin in my panties, pressed her mouth to my sex and slid her tongue across my clit.

I shuddered in heated pleasure. Getting the proud domme on her knees and licking a girl for the first time was arousing me. She was fumbling with her tongue a bit, but the effort was there, and soon Brandy was making instinctive adjustments.

My wrist was setting on top of her hair and my hand was holding the back of her head. “Almost there, cutie,” I said softly, breathing heavily.

She paused for a moment. “You’re not really going to-“

“Yes, I am,” I said, pulling her face back into my pussy. There was a muffled squeal as Brandy tried to protest, but it was too late. My head went back and my breath hissed through my teeth as I had an awesomely explosive orgasm, my pussy pressed into Brandy’s face the entire time.

The crowd knew what was happening, and they cheered at the treat of watching a hot domme get collared and used for likely the first time in her life. I could almost feel the heat from Brandy’s flush of embarrassment.

“All right!” she said. “I did it! Can I go now?”

I tugged my panties and shorts back into place with a self-satisfied smirk. “Sure,” I said. “Go ahead. Come back anytime you want. You have potential as a pussy-licker.”

Brandy got to her feet slowly. She turned for her clothing.

“Nuh uh,” I said. “Those are mine now.”

“What?!?” she said. “But…those boots alone cost-“

“To the victor, sweetie,” I said. “I won, despite your efforts to use other resources. We can argue about it more if you like, but I should warn you that I’ve already used you to get off, so the next step is passing your naked ass around the crowd.”

Brandy obviously wanted to argue more, but the sudden breathlessness in the audience convinced her to drop it.

“Fine,” she said. “At least unlock this collar. You’re holding the only key.”

I gave her a hard look. “See me in a week. We’ll talk about it then.”

“A week?!?” she said. “I can’t take this thing off!”

“I know,” I said. “It’s adorable on you.”

“But…!”

“That’s it,” I said, and I took a step toward her.

Her eyes widened. A heartbeat later, a naked and collared Mistress Brandy ran through the beer-soaked crowd and out the door.

I made my way back to the bar. Pete gave me a nod.

“Not bad, Cale,” he said, pushing a bottle of water at me. “Too bad she lost her nerve like that. Might have been a better fight if’n she stuck ‘round.”

“Yeah,” I said. “That’s how these things go.”

Lawrence finished checking the fight cage floor. Satisfied, he closed the cage and walked to the bar.

He gave me an embarrassed look. “Not sure what happened in there,” he said, “but thanks for beating her ass.”

“Not your fault,” I said. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I, ah, don’t understand,” said Lawrence.

“And you won’t,” I said. “Now drop it.”

Lawrence was smarter than most people realized. I didn’t get many opponents wired hot like Brandy, but I’d had enough that I was pretty sure Lawrence had some idea of what I was capable of. We had a good arrangement, though- I fought cage matches in his bar and we both made money from it- so he kept his mouth shut about it. Tonight was the first time one of my opponents had involved him, however, and he was shaken.

Lawrence rubbed the side of his jaw. “Look, Cale, I don’t want to-“

“Then don’t, Lawrence,” I said, “and I’ll tell you one last time…drop it.”

“I’m not trying to upset you, Cale,” he said, “but I think I have a right to know-“

In less than a heartbeat, I was off the stool, my face an inch from Lawrence’s. “You’re not upsetting me,” I said, my voice quiet. “You’re pissing me off. People get hurt when that happens.”

Conversation in the bar died. Brawls here were common, but they rarely involved Lawrence and never involved me. My eyes were locked with Lawrence’s, but I sensed Pete’s hulking presence moving closer. The two bouncers were moving in as well. Pete liked me, but there was no doubt his loyalty lay with Lawrence. I hardly knew the bouncers, so there was no chance they were approaching for my benefit. I doubted I had recharged enough to pop another mental flash bulb, so there was no help there, either. I could take any of these guys one-to-one any day of the week, but taking them all on right after two fights and exhausting my flash pop was pushing it.

“Pardon the interruption,” said a gravelly voice, “but I wonder if I could have a word with the lady for a few minutes.”

The stranger again. Eyepatch and all.

Lawrence scowled at the man. Then, incredibly, he nodded once and stepped back. He gave me a dark look, then turned toward the bar.

I looked at the stranger. “You’ve got balls, soldier-boy, but you’re stupid.”

He smiled enigmatically. “I have a way with people.”

“That’s nice,” I said. “You’ve got nothing to say to me, however.”

“You haven’t heard me out yet,” he said.

“I know,” I said. “and I prefer it that way. I’ve got nothing to say to the military.”

“I never said I was military,” he said. “You said that.”

“Quit the games,” I said. “I know military when I see it. You’re-“

I stopped and looked at him more carefully. Then I rolled my eyes.

“Shit,” I said. “You’re a spook.”

The stranger stared at me, his one eye grey and unreadable.

“Forget it,” I said. “I have even less to say to a spook than I do to the military.” I turned to leave.

“Hear me out first.”

“Goodbye.”

“I know who you are, Cale.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do, Beatrice,” he said,

Shit. He had lied. He was military. Things were about to get ugly.

“You know,” he said, “all I’m asking for is a hearing. Since the only thing you seem to respect is fighting and winning and losing, why don’t we have a little match of our own?”

I didn’t relax. “A match?”

“Yes,” he said. “A match.” That grey eye glittered with challenge. “Of course, if I win, you agree to hear what I have to say.”

This had suddenly gotten interesting. “If you win. And if I win?”

A ghost of a smile passed over his face. “Then I walk out of here and forget I ever saw you.”

My mind whirled. Taking him would be easy enough. He was in good shape for forty or whatever he was, and he was possibly some kind of special forces veteran, but I was one of the nastiest things on two feet around. Even if he was more than I could handle, it felt like I had enough for a minimal mental flash-pop.

Also, giving Lawrence a third fight for free might ease the tension between us a bit. But was this stranger telling the truth?

“How do I know you’ll keep your word?” I asked.

“You don’t,” he said in that grizzled rasp, “but if I was looking to do anything other than talk to you, I would have shown up with a platoon of military police.”

“It would take more than a platoon to take me down,” I said.

The stranger looked amused. “I know,” he said. “That’s why I would have been here, too.”

Arrogant bastard. I was going to enjoy this.

“Fine,” I said. “You’re on. Remember, after I get done beating you down, you get to stepping out that door.”

“Of course,” he said.

Lawrence was still mad, but the prospect of another fight took off a bit of his edge. He got busy arranging odds and collecting wagers.

A few minutes later, we were both ready. Lawrence was staying outside the cage for this one. There would be no referee presence for this match. There normally weren’t any rules anyway, but now if eyepatch pissed me off, he wasn’t going to have any protection, and I was fine with that.

The stranger pulled his shirt out from his waistband and removed his socks and shoes, but, aside from some light stretching, made no other prep efforts.

Showing confidence is good. It’s especially important in moments like this when you’re trying to gain a psychological advantage over your opponent. But he was overdoing it.

I made a show of stretching as I checked him again for hot wiring. As near as I could tell, he was running normal. Which meant he knew a couple fancy moves and he thought that would be enough to take me down. He had seen me fight twice tonight, so he thought he knew what I was about.

He was in for a surprise. He hadn’t seen anything yet.

“You ready, old man?” I said.

“Let’s do it,” he said.

I nodded to Lawrence, and someone hit the bell with the hammer. It was time for me to work off some military resentment.

We stepped up to each other, wary. I shuffled toward his left side, where his lack of vision would give me an advantage. He circled, keeping me in front of him.

He was giving me first strike, so I took it. I snapped a kick at his left side, which he blocked. I swiveled and snapped a kick at his right side. I swiveled again, snapping a kick at his left side again, then dropped and whirled into a reverse foot sweep.

It was flawless execution, but soldier-boy managed to leap over my sweeping foot. I was still in a lowered position, and the stranger shifted slightly and suddenly drove the blade of his foot at my jaw.

I exploded straight up. The kick still caught me in the mid-section- I stumbled back a step- but it wasn’t nearly as damaging as it could have been.

Not bad so far. He knew strike and counter-strike, and he was dangerously fast. Now I was going to take him to school.

I took two small steps and leaped, driving my bladed foot at him. He forearm-blocked my leg as I passed him. I landed on my bare feet, then spun around with a reverse-punch that he blocked with his opposite arm. Then I spun again with a reverse roundhouse kick that was fluid, but he somehow ducked under my whirling leg, spinning into a whirling reverse kick of his own and catching me in my mid-section.

I stumbled back into the chain-link fencing. I jumped to the side and his flying side-kick just missed, crashing into the fence instead. I drove my knuckles into his exposed ribs. He recoiled, then spun, his elbow just missing my jaw. I drove stiffened fingers at his throat, but they slid inadvertently between the buttons of his shirt.

Make every move count. Sliding into his shirt was unintentional, but, since I was there, I grabbed a handful of chest hair and yanked as hard as I could.

The crowd gasped as buttons popped. He took a step back. I held up my hand and gave him a smirk. Then I dropped the fistful of chest hair.

“That had to hurt, cookie,” I said. “You still want to dance?”

The stranger pulled his shirt completely open and slid it off his shoulders, tossing it into a corner. His torso suggested he knew his way around a gym. Several long ugly scars stretched across his pecs and ribs. The bare spot where I had snatched his chest hair was red.

“Sure,” he said. “I think this is my song.”

“You’re in pretty good shape for an office boy, Lieutenant,” I said.

“Major, actually,” he said.

“I knew you were military,” I said, shuffling forward.

“I’m not,” he said, stepping up to meet me. “At least, not in the sense you think.”

He shifted and suddenly his hand was chopping at my neck. My hand flashed to his wrist, catching it in mid-motion. I swiveled and drove my bladed foot at his knee. He twisted, broke my hold and whirled his foot up from the opposite side, catching me cleanly on the cheek. The blow was stunning, but I used the momentum to spin into a reverse back-kick to his stomach.

He grunted, but appeared unfazed. “Oh, yes,” he said. “You’re going to do just fine.”

“I’d say I’m doing better than fine,” I said, blocking a forearm and ducking under the follow-up wheel-kick.

Then I brought the thunder.

There was a stunned gasp from the audience as my limbs flickered blows faster than the eye could follow. I struck from various positions and used multiple martial styles. My hands and feet were scything blades, my elbows and knees bludgeoning hammers. The locals were viewing moves rarely seen outside back-alley gyms in the far East, taught by banished Masters. Sharp smacks and meaty thuds filled the otherwise silent bar, and the incredulous crowd realized they were seeing a rare display of power and prowess.

And yet, somehow, his limbs matched my every slashing, explosive movement. Rock-solid forearms blocked my blazing hammer-blows. Serpentine motion evaded my slashing tiger claws. Every attack I used, a matching counter was employed, and I felt the first twinges of nervousness. He had no weaknesses.

Then he went on the offensive.

Fingers raked my face. Bent knuckles bruised my skin. I was struck from impossible angles. He was everywhere. I blocked, recoiled, shuddered and kicked out. Shadows flickered blows at me. I struck out, but it was like trying to hit a ghost.

It wasn’t a complete beating. I connected at times, but it was too little, and it was too late, and I knew I couldn’t take much more. The stranger was going to win.

Except, of course, the stranger didn’t know about my mental flash-pop ability, and I had stalled long enough to rebuild a pretty good charge.

I paused for a moment, prepping the charge. This one was going to be a monster. I needed physical contact to trigger the pulse, however, so I assumed a defensive stance again. I held my hands a shade too high, inviting a blow to my mid-section.

The stranger complied. He stepped up, feinting a jab towards my face. Then he drove a fist into my belly.

I released my breath as his knuckles struck my abdominals. My hands flashed together and grabbed his wrist. I could see the landscape of his mind in mine, defenseless. He was mine.

“Bad news, cookie,” I said, hands locked on his wrists. “You fought good. But I win.”

Then I pushed my pulse into his mind.

And my whole world turned upside-down.

The moment I sent the pulse into the Major’s brain, my body stiffened and my muscles locked up horribly. My vision blurred and I had no idea which way was actually up…my sense of balance was gone. I shook uncontrollably, unable to direct my body, and I collapsed to the floor, still shaking. I had a brief flash that perhaps I was having a seizure, but I was too stunned to follow that thought.

The Major stood over me, chuckling. “I was starting to think you were never going to use it,” he said. “How’s it feel to get hit with your own personal weapon?”

I lay on the ground, still twitching. I wanted to talk, but I was drooling. I was pretty sure I had wet myself as well.

“You really tried to zap me good, didn’t you?” he said. “Anyway, I win, but you’re too out of it to talk, so I’ll continue your education until then.”

I was trying to move, but my movements were jerky and completely uncontrolled. He leaned over, brushed my hands aside and casually stripped off my top.

I don’t normally wear a bra…no real need. I wear a sports bra when I fight, though, to prevent inadvertently exposing my nipples. The stranger pulled my sports bra up and off my body, however, and I was now completely topless in front of the suddenly cheering crowd.

I was furious, but I didn’t have enough muscle control back to resist him yet. He slid my shorts and panties off without difficulty, and now I was completely naked and on display for the crowd, much like Brandy had been. And the crowd was cheering just as loud.

“You know what’s next,” said the Major. He leaned down and slid his hands under my armpits. He then moved me into a kneeling position. I settled onto my knees and realized I was getting some control back. Not complete control, but enough to maintain balance.

“All right,” he said, “Now for the spoils.”

I suddenly had the feeling of someone probing my mind. This had happened on rare occasions before- this is Chrystal Heights, after all- but nothing ever came of the attempts. I had an immunity to other’s psychic/psionic abilities. But this stranger was probing my mind from the inside. He was inside my head.

The Major appeared to be working harder now than he had during the fight. “There we go,” he said, his movements tight with strain. Then he stepped directly in front of me and drew down his zipper.

“To the victor, Cale,” he said.

I had limited movement finally, and I shook my head. “I’m a lesbian,” I managed. “I don’t suck cock.”

“I know you are, Cale,” said the Major, “but this time, you are going to suck cock. Mine.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but instead found myself reaching inside the stranger’s zipper and drawing out his thick member. My eyes widened as I suddenly found myself face-to-face with a cock for the first time in many years.

My heart pounded and I felt breathless. How the hell was he doing this?! I was immune to mind-control, dammit!

The Major’s thick, heavy member was two inches from my mouth. My mind whirled with the impossibility of what was happening, but my lips ignored my mind and wrapped around that thick shaft. Incredibly, his cock hardening in my mouth, my lips slid slowly along that thickness until they were wrapped around the base of the stranger’s rod. I slid my head back and paused, his cockhead between my lips. Then my wet mouth began stroking up and down the stranger’s shaft without pause.

I was stunned at the impossibleness of the situation. I was sucking the cock of a stranger I had met an hour earlier. I was giving a blowjob!

“Well, Cale,” said the stranger, “I have to say you’re doing quite well. You have a suction-cup mouth.”

“Mmpphhhh! Mmmpphhhh!” I said, furious. Every patron in the bar watched incredulously as my tightly-wrapped lips slid up and down the Major’s rigid cock.

Then I found myself pausing for a moment, my lips wrapped tightly around the base, my tongue working the sensitive underside. His cock was lodged deep in my throat and the heft of his weighty balls leaned against my chin. I squirmed from the pure embarrassment of my mouth being full of cock in front of an audience, and I looked up imploringly. The stranger was looking directly at me and his grey eye locked with mine.

“Do I have your attention?” he asked.

I was kneeling naked, my mouth full of his cock. I knew damn well he wasn’t going to stop until my belly was full of his cum. He had beaten me physically and he had beaten me mentally. And now I couldn’t even breathe. Taking a mental breath, I accepted the facts. I had lost. I closed my eyes and nodded.

“All right, then,” he said, resuming his pumping of my mouth. “Here’s the deal. I know about you and your abilities. You’re not immune to mind control per se, but you have an abnormally high resistance. You appear able to sense psionic power in others and you have that electric pulse you tried to take me out with.”

Something was happening, and, after a moment, I realized what it was. My belly muscles were twitching and jumping. The bastard was making my body aroused.

“I know your history, and I know what you’re capable of. I’m also aware of why you’re no longer in the military and the charges against you,” he said.

Wonderful. The bastard was going to make me swallow his cum, and then take me to jail. This day couldn’t get any worse. I mentally railed against the gods that let this happen, but my mouth continued to stroke over the Major’s hardness without pause and my arousal continued to grow.

“Now, here’s my take, Cale,” he said. “I don’t give a damn about your past. As far as I’m concerned, they had it coming and you gave it to them.”

His cock was thickening and hardening even more in my mouth. I was inadvertently slurping now and the crowd was cheering each time. I tasted an unfamiliar saltiness and realized the stranger was close to cumming. My belly muscles were twitching and jumping with crazy arousal now, and I mentally clamped down. I was not going to orgasm for this crowd’s viewing pleasure. I was NOT.

“The part of all this that concerns you is this,” said the Major. “There are unique threats developing in Chrystal Heights. They are stronger, more…unusual than the more mundane dangers, and they require unusual tactics to combat them.”

His pumping continued as he spoke, and his hands were creeping into my hair. I knew what he was doing and what was about to happen, but I couldn’t do anything to stop it.

“I’m creating a team,” he said. “A special team. A team made up of three individuals like yourself…individuals with certain abilities. These individuals will receive intense instruction from the best teachers available…and, most importantly, will be schooled in the psionic arts.”

His rock-hard cock slid fully into my mouth. His heavy balls swelled. It was happening.

“My team will be a pioneer squad of psionic special forces operatives,” he said, “and I want you on my team.”

His cock exploded in my mouth then and an impossibly thick, heated river of semen filled my mouth. My cheeks swelled embarrassingly for a moment, and then I was swallowing the flood as fast as I could. My cheeks were bright red, but I couldn’t stop swallowing the man’s seed as he poured it into my mouth. The customers couldn’t hear the Major’s words, but they realized what was happening and thrown beer flew as the locals hooted and whistled.

And then, even more embarrassingly, I began to orgasm.

I moaned around his cock as the sensations from my filling belly triggered my own release. I writhed and wriggled like a fucking slut, and I couldn’t stop.

“Agree to work with my team, and you’ll receive a full pardon for any indiscretions that may have occurred in the past,” said the Major, speaking as if there wasn’t a torrent of cum flowing from his cock. “You’ll also be part of a fight where you might be the difference between life or slavery or worse for the people of Chrystal Heights.”

He had dropped his entire load in my belly by then, and his balls were empty. He slid his cock out of my mouth and took a step back. He looked at me with that unreadable grey eye.

“You’re an angry girl, Cale,” he said. “Even your haircut is angry. Work with me. Maybe we can put that anger to use.”

I sat back on my ankles, a hand on my belly. I was so full. I glared up at the stranger, a retort on my lips. Then I burped and shuddered.

“You bastard,” I managed. “You had to do it like this?”

“No,” said the Major. “I tried just asking. You wouldn’t talk to me, remember? Besides, I don’t think you’d work for someone who couldn’t go toe-to-toe with you.”

Shit. He was probably right. I glanced around. The crowd was still buzzing from watching me suck the Major’s cock. Lawrence and Pete were watching us, however, and they weren’t cheering. I suspected they had an idea of the true nature of the battle that had just taken place, and I suspected it was going to be suggested that perhaps it was time for me to move along.

I sighed. I was kneeling naked in front of a crowd with a bellyful of cum and likely unemployed. This really wasn’t a good day for me.

I looked up at the Major. “Does my haircut really look that angry?”

“Yes,” he said. “Short, with jagged lines. It’s perfect, though.”

“All right,” I said. “Can I get dressed?”

“No.”

“What?”

“I’m kidding,” he said. “Go ahead.”

“You’re a dick.”

“I know.”

I stood, stiff muscles extending painfully. I walked around the cage, picking up my clothes as the crowd clapped.

“What’s your squad called?” I asked.

“We don’t have an official name yet,” said the Major, “but at the moment, we’re the PsiCATs.”

I began slipping my clothes on. “The what?”

“The PsiCATs,” he said. “Psionic Covert Action Team.”

“You’re serious?”

“Yes. Why?”

“The fucking PsiCATs?”

“You’re getting angry again.”

“That name pisses me off! I’m going to be a PsiCAT?”

“You’ve decided to join?”

“I’ve thought about it enough that the name pisses me off.”

“Excellent. Welcome aboard.”

“Fuck you.”