The Tangerine Twelve
Part 7 – Realizing My Potential
I woke up the next morning with my head still swimming in alcohol, my eyes stinging, and my pussy sore. Not exactly a rousing start to the day. Blearily, I looked at the clock. “Three PM? Daaaang. No missed calls- oh, good. Oh, right. Guess I better untie Daphne,” I said to myself, noting the orange scarf around Daphne’s limp wrist as she snored.
I’d just undone the knots when two cell phones rang. Daphne sprung awake like someone had flipped her on switch and answered hers as fast as I answered mine, though she was still yawning and blinking to get the cobwebs out as Sarah spoke.
“Rise and shine, ladies! We only have a few more to go, so let’s make them the best! Meet me in the lobby in ten minutes.” Even if she was our boss and could command us to do just about anything, the ray of sunshine in her voice made me want to cause violence.
“Damn, you’re even better than I thought,” Daphne said with a laugh as she rooted through my suitcase for something that would fit her. “How many did I knock out while I was out?”
“Six in the club, but I don’t remember much myself after that,” I replied.
“Were you raiding my stash?”
“Nope!” “I held up the empty bottle as proof. “Straight up Cristal. Stolen, of course.”
She started giggling, and I had to admit that the idea of a drunken mind controller got pretty funny pretty fast. I shrugged on an orange and blue t-shirt and added a pair of matching jeans, since Daphne had nabbed my black ones. We headed to the lobby, but I recognized Julie’s blonde mane in the doorway of one of the small meeting rooms and changed direction accordingly. Julie didn’t seem to be in the mood to interact with anyone, and the only other member of our group in the room was Morgan, the wordsmith who handled sleeper operations and implanted trigger phrases. Her pen raced over the crossword puzzle so fast it almost blurred. As I watched, she finished and turned her attention to the reprinted New York Times crossword, finishing that one off nearly as quickly. “Jeez, what was that, five minutes? That’s gotta be a record, even for you,” I said with a smile.
She looked up at me, startled. “Oh, no, not even close. This one was tough. I had to go back to the ‘80s to figure out some of the clues. I couldn’t figure out ‘warble’ until I remembered Adele Forrest, who we picked up in 1988 and used as a recruiter until 1992, at which point we set her free to become a trial lawyer in Dallas. We haven’t had to use her since 1994, when she used her influence to defend Sarah from a group of angry parents and won us a $100,000 counterclaim.” Her voice had flattened as she recited the biographical information. Something shook me about that, because while I knew in my head that she knew all this, it seemed wrong somehow that she could just spit it out like a computer.
“And you’ve only been here four years? Sarah must be amazing with the memory enhancement,” I said aloud. Morgan smiled proudly and blew on her pen. I swear, she looked like something out of a college freshman’s wet dream, but I’d seen her with the glasses off and the hair down, and she wasn’t that much older than me.
Slowly but surely, everyone else drifted in, some of them wearing their busy night worse than others. Erica was almost chipper, but Julie was nursing a headache and even Keisha and Rosa seemed a little bleary-eyed from Saturday night. Sarah, of course, swept into the room looking as fresh as an orange daisy in her elegant little sundress. “Sorry to get you all up so early,” she drawled. No one dared to groan. “But we do need to get this finished in the next few days, as I’ve heard that a few of the other major controllers will be arriving in the following weeks, and I’d like to be out of here before they arrive. There’s no need for a fight, at least not at this point. It would spoil our good time.”
Regally, she sat down at the conference table, at the opposite end from where Julie was shielding her eyes from the light. “Ladies, the report is as follows: 50 takeovers, no rejections- excellent job! Out of those, 20 throwbacks. Out of those, ten failed their physicals-fortunately, none that any of us slept with. Five were married, and I’m not in the mood to deal with enraged husbands, not when we’re having such a good time. Two sisters- I shouldn’t have to stress how much of a no-no that is. One public figure- no, Erica, you can’t keep her, she’s done enough for free that no one’s going to pay to see her. One who was forty, even if she carried it well. One whose ID was twenty-four, but who was actually seventeen- it must have been dark in that rave for you not to see that, Julie!”
Everyone else broke into laughter, but I didn’t like the look on Julie’s face as she attempted to glare at Sarah. Sarah ignored her and continued, “Of the keepers, fifteen are suitable Candies, so we’re halfway there. Out of the other fifteen, we have a group of Stanford girls who show recruiting promise- good work there, Morgan- a couple of lovely blondes who we can hook up with one of the airlines, three girls with existing modeling contracts for Erica’s stable- ah, yes, and a ready-made, top-line publicist, investment banker, and attorney from N-Are’s entourage. It would seem that rappers keep pretty women around not only for their physical needs, but for their more worldly ones as well. I wouldn’t object, except that you had Daphne use her strongest acid, thinking that they were just random arm candy. Fortunately, I was able to salvage them, but read the situation before you dive in next time.”
It was my turn to be the butt of everyone’s laughter. Daphne shoved her chair away from me with an exaggerated motion, to more laughter. Keisha gave me a warm, reassuring smile and indicated that I should talk to her afterwards.
Sarah continued, “Now, I woke you up early—” she stopped for an ironic moment, then went on, “because the beaches are the perfect place to find the rest of our quota. Go out and have fun, but don’t forget your sunscreen!”
We scattered. Everyone else ran for the beach, but I came over to Keisha in the corner. Before I could protest, she slid her hand up my shirt and nodded. “Still warm, just beating a little fast from all the excitement. I know why you did what you did. You were told to look for Candies, and you thought you’d found Godivas. They’ll serve us well, but they would have done so if you’d overpowered them with your brain. Instead, you got caught up in the excitement and tried to take a shortcut. Understand this, Sarah wasn’t upset at what you did, but at how you did it. She had to work hard to undo half of Daphne’s work. You don’t need to use chemicals- leave those to Daphne. You’re better than that.”
“Hey, Daphne’s not—”
“I’m not saying she’s a bad person. She’s very good at her craft-but leave that to her. On talent alone, you belong at least one floor up from where you are now. But Rosa, Sarah, and I put you among the lowest to see if you could resist the temptation to become a heartless mistress like so many of the Twelve have been- and so many of them are.”
“And here I was imagining N-Are and his entourage trying to storm our hotel with guns and Sarah holding them off with the sheer force of her willpower,” I replied with a chuckle.
Keisha laughed with me. “A fun mental image, but not likely, since he probably had the six best blowjobs of his life. If anything, he’d be storming the hotel demanding to know how we did it and how he could get more. And Sarah would think about it. But only think about it.”
“I guess Nancy was right about the whole God-given talent versus devices and training,” I said.
From the look on Keisha’s face, I’d said the wrong thing. “Nancy would knock out a little kid just to get her eyes on his mother. She’s here because she’s good at what she does, and if I’m in a fight, she’s who I want at my back- but I wouldn’t want her there the second the fight was over, you know what I’m saying? She and Julie are the two biggest examples of what I don’t want to see you become-just another gifted controller hammered into a goon hell-bent on world domination. There’s a lot of good we could do for the world that we don’t do... but don’t let me weigh on you too much. I’m rambling. Go have fun on the beach.”
She left the room and I resolved to follow her advice. It didn’t take me long to get back upstairs and change into a bikini. I felt a little weird walking around just in that, though, so I dug through my stuff until I found a baggy t-shirt and loose jeans and threw them on over the suit. It gave me someplace to put my phone, which started vibrating nearly as soon as I put it in my pocket. Not that I would have needed it to spot the members of our group, given our colors. Even against the birght sun and sand, the various orange suits stuck out.
“Hey, Cara! Who would you say are the three hottest of those girls over there sunbathing?” Martha shouted, standing next to Tamara and holding up three bright orange MP3 players.
“Well, one already has an orange bikini on, so she’s made it easy for us. Do her, then the two in near thongs,” I suggested. Martha grinned and helped Tamara replace the girls’ iPods with their little devices. One of them stirred, probably because she was the only one still conscious enough to notice her music had changed, but soon she was as limp on her towel as the other two.
“Hey, hope I didn’t cause you too much trouble,” Daphne said from behind me. I had to laugh at the contrast of her bright orange one-piece with her jet black hair. “Keisha is just soooo old-fashioned. I swear, she doesn’t like anyone who doesn’t talk in long droning phrases or swing a pocketwatch. I hope she retires soon so Mistress can bring in someone younger.”
“I don’t know. Keisha just thinks I’m some kind of chosen one or something. I had a lot of fun last night, and I guess we got a little carried away.”
“Eh, whatever. Hey, wanna help me rub some cuties with my special sunscreen? It’ll make them all tingly and ripe for the taking for any of us.”
“And anyone else, for that matter. No thanks. I could use a good tan, so I’ll just lie here and let things heat up later.”
“No big. I’ll just grab Danielle, then.” She waved, and tan and toned Danielle waved back. “My sunscreen and her hands- those girls won’t know what hit them!” Her voice carried enough for Danielle to hear, and their giggles echoed in my ears as I lay back in the sun.
But I didn’t get much downtime, because the next person to come into my line of sight was Anya in an orange sports bra and athletic shorts, a bright orange duffel bag over her shoulder. “I go to court. You want to come? My body, your mind, we make big catches, yes?” That sounded more fun and more challenging, so I got up and followed her towards the nets set up across the sand. “I clear out boys.”
And clear them out she did, catching their attention with a shrill whistle and keeping it as she put her hair into a ponytail. The guys immediately ran off to try and hide the bulges in their swim trunks. I helped out by taking off my jersey and jeans, and a few of them were staring at me. Anya reached into her bag and took out a pop-up tent, then a t-shirt, a longer pair of shorts, and socks. I was confused until she whispered, “We play strip game. I distract, you talk.”
“Okay, any two hot chicks think they can beat us at beach volleyball? And want to prove it in a strip game? Lose the point, lose a piece of clothing. Lose the game, deal with it at the little tent behind us- not that little tent, boys!” I announced with a smile. The boys were drooling so much that they didn’t notice that I’d put my jeans and t-shirt back on.
Two dazzling blondes came over to us, both in bikini tops and low-cut blue jeans that dipped to reveal the matching bottoms, one dragging the other. “Come on, I don’t want to,” the taller one said to her friend. “I barely ever played in my life! Jeez, if you want to put on a show, let’s try out for one of the strip joints!” She calmed down a little when Anya tossed them each a t-shirt to even things out.
“We’ve never played before either. And hey, losing a piece of clothing for every point against works on us too,” I said in a calming tone, and both of them nodded slow agreement.
“We give first serve,” Anya added, which didn’t help until she actually handed them the ball. Gotta love language problems. But neither of us needed to talk to concede the first couple of points, which let me get their focus on the ball, and also got both of us back down to our bikinis. Not only were we more comfortable, but even the girls were getting distracted and staring at us. I could tell that they were starting to get hot in more ways than one, so I started talking, giving them subtle commands that they weren’t likely to notice immediately. We won back serve on the next play and I decided to test them out.
“Shirt!” I yelled to the taller blonde. She made a production out of it, taking it off nice and slow and twirling it around for the boys to see.
“No shoes first for these boys,” I said with a wicked grin. We won the next point too, and the other blonde did much the same-come to think of it, I don’t know that we ever found her shirt- but I’m getting ahead of myself. Two points later, they were both topless in blue jeans, and I decided to go for the kill. “All right, ladies, we’ll even the score if you both make out with each of us,” I suggested.
Anya licked her lips, knowing as well as I did that one kiss from Anya would evaporate any sense left in them- and that they couldn’t resist the command after all the preliminary work I’d done. I took the taller one and made out with her for a good ten seconds while Anya took the shorter one. When she was done, the shorter blonde was literally dripping wet, her eyes completely empty, her mouth still open. Anya took care of the taller one just as well. Then we held up our end of the bargain and took off our tops- which had the effect of making all the guys head for the bathroom, if you know what I mean. I leaned over to Anya and said, “Trust me, they’re already Candies, but if we finish the game, they won’t even need deepening,” I said with a wink. She smiled at me, reached into her bag, and texted a driver.
Two quick points later, and the girls were naked and done. Anya tossed me two orange bikinis to replace the girls’ suits, and as the girls flopped back onto the sand, I put the bikinis on their molten and mindless bodies. I sealed the deal with a kiss, then sent them away to the orange SUV that was waiting at the top of the boardwalk.
“More volleyball?” Anya asked as she put her t-shirt back on.
“More volleyball,” I agreed.
Four more games, eight more hot women- the crowd got bigger with every match, and I noticed that the other members of the Twelve were in among them, yelling encouragement and grinning at every new pair of Candies. We added a few more brunettes, a couple of black girls, and one redhead (at least I thought- carpet didn’t match the drapes, but points for trying).
After the fourth game, Sarah put her hand up and made a chopping gesture to indicate that enough was enough- we’d hit our thirty and anything else would be overkill. As Anya and I departed the court, Sarah pulled me aside. “I knew you had it in you. A nice, fun day off on the beach, and I must say, watching you work was quite a treat for the rest of the group. Great job.”
“I couldn’t have done it without Anya,” I replied, not wanting to take credit for everything.
“You most certainly could have. Anya specializes in men, and other than the lesbian kisses, you did all the dirty work. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be out there picking up a few men to give the new girls someone to dance with.” Sarah flashed a wicked smile and gestured me into her plush limo. “Now, we have a rule- whoever picks up the most Candies has to deepen them. And since you were part of bringing in twelve, you’ll be riding in the Candy box.”
Stuck on a bus driving up the entire East Coast with thirty hot, mindless women who needed to be turned into sex toys. Oh, woe was me.
We got to the bus and Sarah led me through the rows of blank stares that were fixed on the reinforcement video to the back row. “Oh. Did I forget the other rule? The winner also gets me,” she said seductively, undoing my jeans as she leaned in and kissed me. She might have been old enough to be my mother, but she was the very definition of a MILF, and she knew all the tricks of the trade-including that I was hot and ready for action after ten consecutive takedowns.
I don’t think I was really conscious enough to hear her say, “In terms of raw talent, you’re stronger than I am. You’ll be a fine mistress someday, when you have all the experience and control you need.” I must have imagined that, because right at that moment, I wasn’t in control of anything. She had me, body and soul, her years of experience- both in physical and mental control- taking me higher and higher, deeper and deeper.
But it was her acknowledgement and my awareness of my own power that finally made me come.