The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Hubert awoken hungry. His warm giant companion was asleep. As small as Hubert was, his interest in eating the juicy fruit treats was immense. He loved those handful tidbits. It was good for him in his tiny little awareness that Nathan left the bag with the young lady he liked so much.

The grapes were in a bag on the bed near him. Despite his size, his little hands were ample enough to grip the edges to hold it. With a little effort, Hubert managed to open the bag and slid his little fur covered noggin in the opening. With his teeth, he grabbed a grape and pulled it out.

Happy with the treasure, he got back up on Susan’s swollen belly to curl up while eating. About halfway through eating the grape, the door to the room started to creep open. Hubert had a sudden sense of discomfort from the direction of the door. His little black eyes popped open wide seeing a shadow start to creep into the room.

Quickly he slipped up behind Susan’s neck, to peer out through a little tumble of her hair. Small as he was, his fears kept him out of the sight of other creatures with eyes as much as he could.

The little pocket sloths developed on a little known island in the South Pacific. Their island was close to New Zealand. Though large enough to grow quite a lot of forest and local life forms it hadn’t acquired a name until the twentieth century. The people who found it called it Arcadia, one of the variations of ‘paradise’ often used to describe places they thought resembled a biblical Garden of Eden.

In retrospect the name was decidedly too optimistic. It certainly wasn’t pastoral in the Greek sense. There were several severely venomous animals on the island. Half of the people who tried to make camp there were bitten by a lizard creature they barely saw before it disappeared into the dense vegetation. Of the twenty initial visitors, eight of them died, and the other two never really fully recovered.

Predator animals on the island were particularly uncanny to human visitors. Somehow they seemed able to lure people away from camps alone. Lure was the term that applied too. The island was likely much better off left isolated. Few of the original visitors really got away without any injuries. The long guns they’d brought with them had saved the lives of most of those lured off into the brush. Not all of them, just most of them.

With utmost care the biologists crept back into the rain forest of the island. Science, it wasn’t going to be stalled by a few little problems like death of the researchers.

After a few weeks, the biologists started to find little monkey like creatures sleeping in their pockets. Because they slept so much the initial nickname they got from a team member who wasn’t a scientist was not accurate biologically. Of those creatures allowed to leave the little island, the pocket sloths were the most common to leave.

First thing the biologists managed to learn about the little pocket sloths was they were particularly unaffected by any illness. Microbes of most sorts simply didn’t seem to have an ability to stay intact in the pocket sloths. This mystified the many immunology researchers who learned about them. Because they were slow breeding creatures, very few labs got any, and they were also stuck with a special problem of how the little critters behaved.

They insisted on staying with people of their own choosing. Making this more exasperating for the scientists was they always escaped any cage the biologists devised. There wasn’t any explanation in most cases. They would always turn up again, back with the human partner of they’d picked. This was the primary reason Nathan hadn’t tried to force Hubert to go with him when he left Susan Laramy in her hospital bed.

What the biologists hadn’t learned about them was more than made up through another quaintly inexplicable facet they brought with them. For it turned out to be evident none of the creatures with a mesmerizing lure could affect anyone who had the little monkeys accompanying them. There was a lot of discussion and experiments around pheromone science, but none of the chemistry worked out well.

Hubert was by no means a creature of astounding gray matter. He was just a little monkey who liked to sleep and eat grapes. He also liked being around his human, which he drew a great deal of emotional satisfaction being near. This female giant also made him feel good. For some reason he had no understanding of, being of such small brain, he felt she needed him for a little while. He knew eventually he wanted to be back with the male giant he considered his own.

The dark form by the room’s door gave the little furry ball hiding behind Susan a shudder as though he was back on his island. It wasn’t his giant. It wasn’t any of the friends of his giant, like the other female giant that wanted to coo at him and touch him. She made him nervous but he knew she wasn’t a threat. He even understood she was taking care of this female he decided needed him for a while. That made her slightly more acceptable, but not a lot.

That shadow though, it was a significant menace. Hubert just knew. It was one of those instinctive deeply rooted feelings built into his genetics somehow. He immediately felt it to be one of those monsters with the haunting lure he knew from home. At least, it felt like one of them. Those creatures were nasty and would eat any other animal on the island, including the pocket sloths if they could get them by surprise.

Fortunately for his own kind, they were good at hiding out. The warmth near the giants who came to visit was a particularly good place to hide. A large number of Hubert’s relatives had discovered them and attached to one or another as it happened.

Mikhail was slipping slowly past the heavy wooden door, looking to find the large bellied woman asleep in the room. He had no idea the small creature was with her. To him, she was happily asleep which would make probing her memories an easier task. Something about people who were in a state of unconsciousness always made it easier, in his view, to actually scan deeply.

The Russian reached a tendril out and was close to reaching her mind when he paused. From some sense of practical experience, he felt a tiny wisp of some kind of psi energy. Just a hint. It faded out of reach quickly, so Mikhail felt it may only be a hint of some contact left behind in the woman heavy with child. He wondered if it meant the child she was carrying might be somehow a telepath. As far as he knew, the child was Hal’s and might inherit the man’s abilities.

He pressed the tendril forward to the surface of her thoughts.

Mikhail felt his mind explode and dropped to the floor as a wall of black ice sank into him, crushing him. Fractions of a second later, his wide open eyes started to turn smokey, the sight gone from them forever.

A nurse across the hall heard the collapsing sound. Assuming her patient had fallen out of bed, she rushed in to check. Turning on the light, she discovered the bundle of clothing with the East European appearing man in it. His eyes were open yet unseeing. She hit the alert button and quickly looked at her patient to see Susan was asleep.

Hubert came out from hiding. With a little hesitation he went back to finishing the grape he swiped. He looked around to see what happened. All was calm once more. The scary creature was no longer a threat. Fruit with juices, good.

Bart fitted two cheap body length mirrors on either side of the door by the end of the stairs. They were cheap enough he thought they might break just by being carried inside. He wanted to be certain if he was on the stairs, he would be able to see into both corners behind the back of the stairs.

Edward helped. Posing on either side for Bart for testing was no big deal.

“I get we can see someone planning on ambushing us using these. But if the light is out down here, it won’t matter, we won’t see in the corner anyway.”

“I’ll just make sure the light here is on,” replied Bart.

“Okay,” responded Edward, “someone will notice them other than us, you know.”

“I don’t care. It’ll just have to be noticeable. We put them here so we can know what to expect. Whoever might do something to prevent us from seeing them will give themselves away. I just don’t want to be ambushed.”

“Why here?”

“This is the most likely place for someone to watch other than the street exit. It’s a choke point for leaving the building. There’s a couple other choices but this is obvious.”

“Interesting. I’ll try to remember the idea.”

“You do that, Edward,” Bart said. “Being a devout coward is a healthy method of remaining alive. Cultivate that religiously. I suspect my chances will be better if you manage to stay alive too.”

“Um,” what to say to that, “thank you, I guess?”

Bart laughed.

“Son. You many not believe it yet. But you are one of the good guys. Let’s go see if the monitoring equipment picked up anything new.“

Nathan stood with Doctor Stevens at the nurse’s station.

“So this man went in to see Miss Laramy and simply dropped dead on the spot,” said David.

“I strongly doubt it,” said Nathan. “I suspect the FBI’s suspected killer was around. We’re going to have to go through video footage to see who else was here.”

“Nathan, he had a stroke,” responded David. “He didn’t get shot, knifed or otherwise attacked by someone.”

“Doesn’t mean a thing. I don’t know how one would do it, but I still think this guy was killed on purpose. There are ways to give someone a stroke chemically.”

“We’ll have to see what the autopsy turns up, I guess. I put a rush on it using my CDC credentials as an excuse.”

“That works for me. I just want to know what the hell is going on.”

“No one so far remembers him coming in the building.”

“Where’s the body? Does anyone have a picture?”

“So. What’s this about a dead man turning up here?” Special Agent Mathers had walked up with Thorn at her side.

“It seems some person of unknown purpose had a stroke as he went into the hospital room of Miss Laramy,” responded David, “He doesn’t appear to have had a reason to be there. It could have been a matter of just being lost and frustrated. The hospital staff is looking to find out who he is. Maybe they can discover who he was visiting.”

“It seems too coincidental. For someone visiting any of the amnesia victims only to drop dead in the room,” said Thorn.

“I am wondering how your killer could have caused someone to have a stroke,” said David.

“There’s a shitload of drugs that can do that.” Mathers crossed her arms under her rather modest chest. “It’s not a sure thing the guy was not murdered. But I grant you, a stroke makes it way harder to prove.”

“Okay, well they have him in the morgue downstairs if you must have a look,” David answered. “But honestly, all he is now is a lump of unwanted meat. Nothing to indicate hostile action by anyone. No one has spotted needle marks or bruises or anything. Yet.”

“Let’s go have a look,” said Thorn, “shall we?”

As a group they found the elevator.

“After you,” Nathan said to Mathers. “Ladies first.”

“Oh, you won’t think I’m a lady if you screw with me, mister.”

“My dear woman, I still have no idea if you have a first name. You are simply very Special Agent Mathers to me,” Nathan responded in an amused tone.

She kind of snarled at him but Thorn chuckled.

“You brought it on yourself,” Thorn told Mathers. “Your own big mouth.”

“Shut the fuck up,” she responded. His brows rose but he clamped his lips into a smile.

The body was in one of the chilly boxes along the side of the room. There were only about a dozen of those but still it was shut up in the freezer anyway. They pulled the drawer out to look at the blue hued corpse.

“Hey,” said Nathan, “he looks familiar.”

“What do you mean?” said his partner. David was a little surprised.

Nathan pulled out his cell phone and started swiping through photos. He came to one of the images Bart had given him with a man out on the sidewalk. He compared the picture to the body.

“Mikhail Orlov. I wonder what the hell he was doing here.”

“How do you have that set of photos,” asked Thorn. “Where’d this come from?”

“Just people on the watch list for my department. I bet there’s no record of him being in the country legally either.”

David, rather wisely, said nothing. He knew there was no such watch list for the CDC.

“I see, do you have more info? Who are those other people in your pictures?”

“No, no more information. But I can start an inquiry with my superiors,” said Nathan. “It’s not as if that will cost us anything but time. The other pictures don’t matter at the moment. I’ll see if I am allowed to give them to you. I don’t mind, but I do have to answer to some people.”

“Yes, and I have a serial killer on the loose. If your list is connected to that, I want to know,” said Mathers.

“I bet. If this man wasn’t murdered though, he can’t be part of your investigation now, can he?”

“Yes, but find out anyway,” Thorn said. “I’d like to be able to include or exclude in an affirmative way rather than play guessing games.”

“I do get the idea,” said Nathan. “I would too.”

Connie looked in the closet, doing a double take.

Sandi had been on a shopping spree again. The case on the floor was long and large. Wondering what Sandi got this time was not a strong enough urge to open the case. There was also

a box on top of it Connie decided she didn’t really want to know about.

Instead she pulled out a pair of shoes and a change for the blouse. She was a little worried Sandi was going to get in serious trouble. She couldn’t prevent it, but she didn’t like the sense her sister was going to be making their life strained in ways she couldn’t even imagine. Yet.

Maybe if she went home for a while, Sandi would take some time off, relax, mellow a bit. She didn’t know. It was impossible to actually get her to understand Connie wanted to find a nice man to settle down with, have children, maybe even keep a cat or two. Or maybe just have a lot of happy love filled sex.

That thought set her teeth on edge for some reason.

She didn’t know why but sex was on her mind a lot more lately. She’d always been fairly asexual since? since what? She was trying to figure that out. At some point she knew she had an interest but it vanished. She had no problem dressing as though she was all set for a romp in the hay, but she had no genuine interest until lately.

She’d masturbated several times recently in the shower too. Not her normal behavior. Why was it so hot to have orgasms in the shower? How could this have begun, she wondered. Not that she minded, really. It felt too good not to play with herself. Maybe she should go buy a toy or two for bedtime instead of only playing with the shower head and her fingers.

It just felt strange to recently start playing with herself after years of not caring at all. Maybe she finally had gotten over something. What though? She was a normal and pretty boring girl growing up. Her mother never spent time with her talking about sex. She hadn’t needed to. Her father spent a lot of time with her, teaching her to shoot, to dance, to play games, to do her school work. Her mother seemed to resent his attentions to her, but she loved her father. When he died, she felt awful as though something she’d done caused it.

She knew better though. She wondered if her sister had gotten along better with mom then. She’d started to bitch about her sister to mom after dad died unexpectedly. That was when mom stopped being willing to talk to her about her sister at all. Sandi seemed to vanish for a while too. It was as though Sandi didn’t like that dad favored her and didn’t want to be around her anymore.

Oh well.

She got dressed in front of the mirror and found her hands covering her breasts, then rubbing. She hadn’t meant to. Then her thighs started to squeeze, tightening and loosening. Good grief. She needed some relief before she went out. What the hell was going on to make her horny all of a sudden? She looked at herself in the mirror and started stripping her clothing off, exposing her upturned breasts, so the puffy nipples were showing their stiffness.

She squeezed the ends, feeling herself getting wetter as she did. Why was this happening to her? She wanted to go out but she obviously had a need to fulfill first. She peeled off the skirt she had on and kicked off the panties. When she did, she noted how wet they’d become with her juices. She almost felt like picking them up and sucking the wetness out of them.

Instead she slipped a couple fingers into her folds. Like a bolt of lightening it jolted her need right along her rib cage. She sat in place on the throw rug and kept fingering her snatch. She couldn’t understand where this need came from but it was compelling her. She had to respond in her heat. She felt a hot flush run through her thighs too. Resting her other hand next to her, she managed to lay down across the rug. The only person she ever thought about while doing this was herself.

She turned and saw herself in the mirror. She looked helpless and needy to her own eyes. The fingers sank in as far as she could make them. After drawing them out of herself she sucked on the wetness while her other hand started to run over her vulva. God she was hot just now, hungry to cum. Why, why, why, she thought, but her body rocked in a motion with the fingers she pushed inside.

In only a few short moments she was spasming. She couldn’t stop either. Her fingers kept working at her clit, sliding in deeper to touch any part of her insides that responded. Her eyes were clenching, opening, clenching again. The breathing became tight and short. She still couldn’t stop. She had to continue until she was too wrung out to breath. She let out a loud gasping grunt, followed by another loud grunt. She was shaking like a leaf.

Her eyes closed.

It would be some time before she opened them again, her nipples feeling a little sore. She saw herself in the mirror. She still thought she looked hotter than hell. Thinking how egotistical that felt, she tried to look away. She so wanted to fuck herself. She didn’t understand why this happened.

She felt all messy and sweaty now but that didn’t matter. She could smell her own sex and it aroused her again. She had to have another go with her fingers, obviously. While she looked at herself in the mirror, her tongue came out and licked her lips. She wished she had a twin she could kiss just now.

Hubert just looked up at him innocently with his black eyes. Nathan rubbed his eyes. He felt like crap just now. He now knew exactly what killed the Russian. He was certain of it. He could always tell when there’d been an incident with Huey.

The tiny monkey was pleading the case for another grape. Nathan loved little Huey, so the grape was not withheld. Gently he ran his fingers along Hubert’s tail, knowing how the little fellow enjoyed being coddled by way of his tail.

Looking at Susan Laramy just made Nathan feel Hubert had done what was necessary. The little git had sensed a mental probe from the telepath and blasted him in defense. In defense of one of his people that is. Why Miss Laramy was one of his people, Nathan didn’t knnow. He was glad she was though.

That’s how the little pocket sloths were. Once they adopted someone, they would not allow anything telepathic to harm their people. It was reflexive, entirely instinctive, and without any concept they might hurt someone.

Not that the Russian was human in Nathan’s view.

“What do you think, Huey,” he spoke to the happy tiny ball of fur in his hand. “Is she safe now?”

As if he understood the question, Hubert rubbed his face against Nathan’s hand but then jumped back onto Miss Laramy’s sleeping form.

“Yeah, I guess not. What am I to do without you?” The little face tilted, looking at him, having no idea what the question really was. “Instinct is your life. I get it. I’m on your side and hope you don’t have to protect her again.”

The nurse walked in, “I see, worried about her?”

“With a guy dropping dead at her door? No, not really. Anyone hostile will probably fall over before hurting her.”

Miss Andrews laughed. “I grant, she’s got to be a tough bird to deal with what’s happened to her to date. But I doubt her look will kill anyone. Your little pet has done her spirit a world of good though. She’s been laughing with him when no one is in here with her.”

“That’s good, right? When do her parents arrive?”

“Tonight. I have no idea what delayed them. They sounded pretty upset they couldn’t get here sooner, and they have spoken with her a couple times. That helped her emotionally too. She still has no idea how she ended up pregnant.”

“That’s got to be bothering her parents too.”

“Sure. But amnesia is something they understand a bit about. Still, she’s a couple thousand miles from where she had last been seen as far as they know. They’re worried sick. I would be too, if I were them.”

“Me as well. I am going to leave Hubert here with her, at least until her parents arrive. I hope he’s helping her through the loneliness of being abandoned with a child growing inside. That’s got to be tough for her.”

“Maybe, but her parents come from money. She’s not going to be made to give up the child, if she wants it. She’s very confused but seems to be the sort to bend with the wind and make the best of it.”

“I wish more people could deal so well.”

“Do you really have a girlfriend and wife already?”

“Yes Miss Andrews. I am very happy with Judy, my other half.”

“I guess I’m still stuck chasing doctors then.”

He laughed. “As if you’d want anything to do with an odd old man like me.”

“Naw, but you do have the cutest pet in the world. Any chance I can get one like it?”

“You might like the finger monkeys, but the pocket sloth is actually rare and they pick their own pets, I mean owners. As long as Hubert wants me, he will stay with me. There’s nothing I could do about it either.”

“No?”

“Nope. In fact. I expect if he decides to be Miss Laramy’s little guardian, I will find a new little pocket sloth in my pocket some night.”

“Huh?”

“They have this talent for getting out of cages and just ? showing up where someone is they’ve adopted. Hubert is the second one that’s been with me. I’m very emotionally attached to him. I don’t know if they can tell our emotions or what. But the first one passed away unexpectedly when I was in China, leaving me mourning. Then a week later, Hubert showed up.”

“Like magic?”

“No, not really. They’re native to a south Pacific island. They pick people who visit to connect to. But no one can really keep them caged for some reason. No one with sense kept trying after the first dozen or so slipped away. Then they show up with their person again. Where ever their person may be. Even if it’s on the opposite side of the globe. We have no clue how.”

“Interesting. Now I really would like one for a pet. Or to keep me as a pet. Either way, I adore the little guy.”

“Hear that Hubert?” He looked at the little pocket sloth. Hubert’s big black eyes looked back at him. “You have a fan. She’d love to be part of your family.”

As if he understood, Hubert chattered for a moment then settled back in against Susan Laramy.

“They seem so intelligent,” he said to Miss Andrews. “But at heart they are still just sleepy monkeys.”

Edward sat in the little room he’d gone to. The room was mostly for the use of the computer. He turned on the chair though and looked at the wall instead of the monitor. It was Saturday again. His life felt utterly upended by the series of recent events.

A little time for reflection could go a long way. He hoped.

He drew out the memories of his parents from the depths of his memory and was doing his best to relive the best of his days with them. It was sobering to think he now had to be a grown up but at the same time, he hoped they’d have been proud of him.

He wasn’t sure if they would be or not. Aunt Polly had him thinking they might be ashamed of him just now. It had been a little time now and though he had not sat down with Elaine or Polly to talk about what happened, he felt like crap. Not because he had done it though. But because he had undone it just as he promised he would.

The emotions they’d shared through the connection had been a huge game changer to him. He felt her emotions and they’d washed over him. He was certain if he connected with Lexi or Prudence, the same drug like high would hit him and make him melt in a good way.

At the same time, he feared the very thing Aunt Polly was worried about. He dreaded the idea they would be doing it only because he’d forced them. He wanted those things, he really wanted to feel them, to feel them relishing him owning them the way Ellie had while he had?

He shook himself a bit. Had she really felt that way about him? Or was it just his control of her reflecting back to him. He had a hard time meeting her eyes since he’d let go again. He felt so uncertain about how it was happening.

The sex had been amazing.

But then until a week ago he’d been a virgin and had no idea what sex was like. All the on-line porn in the world had not left him ready for how it would feel to be inside a woman. Much less how it would feel so damn good with three of them all wanting him to fill them while they came. It was more than he’d ever hoped for and for this instant, it was painfully not enough.

He brought the sensation of owning Ellie back up in his thoughts. He really hoped it was genuinely what she wanted and he wasn’t just fooling himself. The connection was so intoxicating.

He’d been trying to disassemble more of the constructs limiting her from independent behavior with the ownership thing in place. Some pieces though were inherently a part of her feeling she was property. He’d managed to take down about two thirds of the booby traps with harmful side effects on her if they were triggered.

Knowing how he felt when connected made him wonder if he’d be able to share those feelings through to the others as well. He didn’t know without poking in places he really needed to feel he was truly invited.

Lexi wanted him to do so but he really wanted her to understand just how complete the ownership became before they tried anything. Prudence was up for it totally, even saying she didn’t care if she ended up as tightly bound to him as Ellie had been. She had seen how powerfully it affected Ellie and wanted to have that too. She also wanted to be able to share it with Ellie. He thought he understood now how much Ellie and Pru were emotionally bound up with each other.

It was still a risk he was unwilling to take with them. They all three had become very precious to him. At the moment he’d do anything he could to keep those women proud of him. Anything but. Doing the psionic actions they’d been asking after, it was a step he was unprepared for yet.

There was a knock at the door. He’d closed it so he could have a few minutes without disturbances. He supposed he should not be hiding out.

“Come in.”

Aunt Polly stood there, hands clasped in front of her waiting for permission after the door opened.

“Yeah, come in. There’s two arm chairs in here. Old. Beat to hell and gone, but arm chairs none-the-less. Settle in and relax.”

She closed the door behind her.

“We are going to have a little chat.”

“I had assumed so when I saw it was you. I suppose I’m in some kind of trouble with you and my uncle.”

“Hrm.” She settled into one of the chairs. “I think there’s couple springs gone on this one.”

“They aren’t usually given much use in here. I kind of had this silly idea I’d be entertaining a lot more people than reality in my life would have. Some fantasies die hard.”

“People are not furniture.”

“Clearly. Did you seriously think I feel otherwise?”

Jonathan pulled the door closed after helping the two young men from his car. He told them to sit on the bench. Someone would come in the park soon, collect them, move them along.

Despite all his failures to date, he could not bring himself to kill his test subjects. Other people he’d killed in the past didn’t bother him. Disposing of these as corpses would though. He thought it an odd quirk about his view of the experiments.

None of them worked out yet. He felt time was running out because of the other pressures on the club with Jake, and the fact no one at the club knew about his experiments. He didn’t want any of them to even get wind of him doing them.

He had young men picked out from various parts of the country. Had them all checked for health and anything else he could think of. Not one had worked out yet. If he started to poach any from the local schools, he’d probably draw more attention than he already had.

One of the things he felt was working against him was he had to dispose of them personally. It was the only way to ensure everything was wiped from their memories. Otherwise he’d have had them dropped off elsewhere in the country. It was bound to draw attention to the area sooner or later. Probably sooner with the recent killings going on.

When his phone rang he was already jumpy.

“This is Jonathan, what’s up Jake?”

“When did you last see the Russian?”

“Same time you did, when he told us he’d go to the hospital himself to get information.”

“I hope you’re sitting.”

“What happened to him?”

“He’s dead. The hospital people say he had a stroke.”

“With all the people we’ve lost lately do you think that’s a reasonable conclusion?”

“No, I think he was murdered. Whoever it was just made it look like a stroke. Maybe it was a stroke due to a poison of some kind. I don’t know. But I do know one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“We really need to create a solid buddy system and stick to it.”

“I might be dead too then, but yeah, I get the point. I’ll be there in a jiffy.”

“Make sure you are. Even more than before, we need to close ranks.”

“Sure, sure. I’m on my way,” and he hung up without waiting for Jake to ring off.

Bart had gone to the surveillance nest. It was really more like the spot he could plug in a large disk drive and suck up video from the cameras. Normally he would just get the pictures and go but for some reason he looked out the window at the club below.

A fair number of cars kept stopping and letting out people. That was. Different.

He watched for a bit and realized the drivers must be parking the cars nearby then walking to the club as well. It appeared they were having some kind of meeting. He wondered if it was the recent activity with the number of dying members, the odd memory blanked zombies, or what else could cause them to all gather at once.

He settled back to watch. He figured he’d stick around. Just in case he could collect more folk from the club in his video capture to identify. Bart probably had more than ninety percent of them identified by now, but those extra few he had not yet pegged might show up.

After about an hour or so, they appeared to be breaking up again. A few of the drivers came back out the door, going to collect the vehicles for their masters or mistresses. He fumbled through his pockets for a moment and pulled out a pair of generally useless opera glasses in a folding case. He kept it for moments like this. He peered through them and watched as the door opened and more servant level slaves came moving out quickly to go get cars.

They wouldn’t dare move quite so quickly if one of the masters or mistresses were in their way. Or close by. It could mean a catastrophic punishment from their own. Or not. He guessed there were the usual group dynamics with rivalries going on in there. Since he had yet to go in there himself to see, it was hard to know anything beyond what he’d drained from good ol’ Hal. Now a partially lost to his past Hal.

While he was watching though, he saw one of the men come out he knew to be a telepath. To his surprise the man’s head suddenly jerked back and a sharp clacking sound reached him. Not as loud as an unmuffled gun, he still knew immediately there had to be someone shooting near by. Given what he’d seen, it had to be from the building he was in.

Rather than wait to find out who was shooting, he grabbed the things he’d brought and headed to the stairs. At that instant, foot on the steps, he heard another sharp sound like a tree trunk snapping in a high wind. He started to move quickly down the stairs and as he did, he tried to process what he knew.

It was as he was on the last flight, he remembered to look at the mirrors he’d set with Edward earlier. There was no one visible so he proceeded to the door. He started to step out and pulled himself up sharply.

Looking up the stairs, hearing no steps yet, he wondered if it was indeed the woman he’d been watching the other day. He spun back around.

Moving to either side of the door he unscrewed the light bulbs keeping the landing brightly lit. There was still a shaft of light from the door on the steps. Smiling to himself he ducked to the side by the stairs, out of sight and into the darkness.

Sucking on the finger and thumb he’d burned on those light bulbs, he waited. It wasn’t too long before he heard a light sound of rubber against the stairs. If it was his mysterious lady friend, she’d decided to lose the high heels for this exercise.

Oddly enough he didn’t sense her mind at all as she approached. That spoke to her being a telepath as well, since that was hardly a skill a normal could have. But then, he caught a glimmer of thought the direction in question. It wasn’t much but it indicated she realized the lights for this exit had been on when she went up the stairs.

That was followed by a soft clicking of something. Maybe she was carrying something and set it down? Maybe she was going to see if she could leave by another means?

No, the footfalls on the steps resumed, slowly. He could see shoes and some kind of jeans in the mirror. He watched as she came as stealthily as she could down the stairs. Reaching into his pocket he drew out his cell phone. There was a chance she was jumpy enough she’d just react instead of thinking and he could get her attention without getting shot.

He flicked on the phone so just enough light showed to make a dim glimmer.

That glimmer was what she saw in the mirror and her reaction was as swift as he’d expected. The sound from this gun was like being hit with a rubber mallet in the space they were in. She was ready for the sound. He was somewhat ready.

The mirror wasn’t so lucky though. It was hit quickly by half a dozen shots. Easily placed well in enough of a grouping likely to rip up the intended target very powerfully. The glass on the ground gave away he was behind her a bit.

Not before he got to speak though.

“I was hoping we could talk before you kill me? I am not one of that club’s members. My name is Bart.”

He could just see the other mirror if he slid to the side a bit. The shuffle of his feet was quiet enough even he could not hear it. So he felt comfortable she had not.

The muzzle of the gun was pointing up now. She had it in both hands and had moved a bit to one side, the side of the stairs away from where she thought he had to be. He knew this was to minimize her immediate exposure.

“Show yourself. Let’s see both hands out in the open though.”

“I will. Just, please,” he said, “can you actually not point your cannon at me?”

He started to step sideways out of the shadows towards the doorway and the light.

Sandi squinted a little bit at him and tilted her head. She lowered her weapon, seeing he was unarmed. She quickly concluded he had the drop on her all along. Were he about to harm her then she wouldn’t be standing there. She took a couple steps up and grabbed her case.

“We can talk,” she said, “and I don’t know how much I trust you. But this is a bad place for a conversation at the moment. You lead the way. I don’t want someone behind me just now.”

“No worries. I have a car two blocks over unless you have something nearby?”

The worked their way swiftly out the alleyway and looked around.

“No. Yours will do. Move it, little man.”

He chuckled but he moved his out of shape tush end as quickly as he could.

Old man Abernathy was spread across the threshold. His skull was missing a huge chunk and his granddaughter was holding his hand. Instead of sobbing she was screaming out in an angry sound Jacob never would have expected. The look on her face was pure rage. She’d been looking at the building across the street so Jake lifted his head to look too. Before he could look across the street, there was another grisly view closer to where he stood.

Another body lay on the ground out in front of their little stoop. It looked to be another of the young bunch who hung out with Vince. Before he got himself croaked. His skull looked like a soup bowl of blood too. For a second all Jacob thought about before looking out to the other side of the street was whether he could use the mess somehow to good effect.

There was no indication of any people over there. There were a bunch of very dead looking pigeons on the ground, but no people. Nothing in the windows above either. He looked back at the grandchild Abernathy. He didn’t know her name.

It didn’t make sense. She ought to be upset but wasn’t in the way he’d expect of a slave girl here. Maybe he should calm her down. Then he was truly startled. The power emanating from her just now was enough to make him stagger a little. If he’d been ready for it, he’d have been fine. He never would have suspected she was telepathic. It appeared not to be a new thing either.

That meant she’d been playing all of them all along, having the old fart faking he was the telepath of the two of them.

Jacob tilted his head. He watched her fury as she turned finally and looked at him. Suddenly he was glad he’d been prepared for when her ire slammed into his own shields. With her energized at the moment with all her hate and pain, he was not going to try to strike back. Instead he took a different approach.

“We can’t get even by killing each other, you know.” He kept his palms open and visible, a stance he’d learned helped disarm those who were evenly matched with him before. This time though, he really wanted to enlist her in hunting down the person stalking club members. Revenge being a very strong motivating force.

She slashed out at him again, the white hot emotions she was feeling quite evident in the depth of her strength at the moment. A lot of other club members had backed off a bit, having registered the wild flash of energy pooled around Jacob and the Abernathy girl.

It occurred to him she must have been pretty damn perverse as an even younger woman. She and her grand-sire had been coming here together almost nine years. In all that time no one caught on, they all believed utterly the old man was one of them happily and tightly holding onto the girl. He’d seen her being treated to facials, ass fucks, pushed down on the man’s cock. Everyone thought she was the slave. A few people tried foolishly to take her from the old man, but no one would ever have tried to take the old man from her. No one knew.

As far as he knew, the two never separated within the walls of the club. Even for the most personal of activities nature demanded. The more he thought about it, the more intensely she must have been emotionally bound to her grandfather. Trying to clear his head and act more rational was not going to be easy having been taken this far off guard.

But Jacob had a dead club member outside the door and a body across the threshold he wanted to be removed quickly.

“Please calm yourself. Blind anger isn’t going to fix this.”

She was breathing hard, seething. He signaled to Vanessa. She didn’t want to step an inch closer to the berserk young woman. But she nodded to him. She tended to take on jobs around the club. It seemed to him Vanessa wanted to be more in charge around here. She would take care of the mess.

“Just, get the cleaners and make sure Mr Abernathy is treated respectfully. I’ll be in my office,” he looked at the young woman again, “please come with me. We can talk. I will explain what’s been going on and how we’ve tried to shield you and your?” he found he didn’t know how to refer to the old man anymore, “your loved one from threats we’ve been under recently. Clearly we could use your help.”

She stood. She had on the ultra short skirt and only a white shirt like fancy dress collar, her full breasts fully visible. With at least a quarter of the members being women, he’d learned to avoid creating unseemly friction. No one cared if anyone leered like animals after the slave bitches or hounds.

Didn’t much matter though. They would go at each other’s throats in a heartbeat if they thought another member viewed them as prey too.

Simple truth is, at one time he’d thought possibly he’d try taking her from the old man when he thought the old bastard was the telepath. He always thought she was one of the most delightful little tidbits to come in the place yet there was always a general sense the man had only the one so everyone should leave him be. He’d never tried to poach theirs, so none of them tried to poach his only. Even if a number of them were interested in seeing the old coot kick off so they could try to lay claim to her.

“Now, I’m deeply sorry about your loss.” He helped her into one of the chairs. “You two have been here what seems like a decade and that was a special closeness I’m sure.”

She was in tears, the blood still on her hands and arms. He wasn’t going to even try to comfort her though, she was still dangerous.

“I want the motherfucker who did this to me,” her voice came out sounding cultured, unlike her words. The clarity behind her eyes showed her to be a woman of distinct determination. “I only got birds when I blasted at him. I want the person who did this to me to suffer. I mean, red hot coal suffering.”

He watched her vent her anger by voice now, no rasping, just clear tones. He suppressed the desire to shake his head. It did cross his mind this had to be the penultimate in topping from the bottom.

“I’m pretty he was shot because the killer thought he controlled you. Not the other way around. The person you are speaking of has been hunting members,” he paused, watching her intensity in attention at the moment. “We don’t know who has been doing this. You can help though. We’ve been trying to track down anyone who saw something, someone, anything that can lead us to the shooter. This makes,” he started to tick off names in his head and stopped, “too many of us. I’d like to see the shooter suffer too.”

“Just tell me how to help. I know you’re trying to use a buddy system. I’ll work with anyone as long as they don’t get in the way when we find the asshole.”

“I’m sure we can work that out. Let me explain what we do know...”

He started to go over the things he knew so far to see if she had noticed anything. He avoided probing her at all to determine her actual strength. He didn’t care so long as she was on his side now.

Thorn was in the little conference room he and Mathers were using for a local command post. Mathers was opposite him seated at the table as they flipped through folders. The world outside the windows was overcast and the view inside was a small group of plainclothes officers on the phone, working at their desks, one interviewing a citizen, and empty desks.

Quiet in the conference room ended abruptly when the door opened. Nathan walked in, then closed it again.

“Hi there,” he said.

“What’s going on now with the CDC?” asked Mathers. Her tone suggested sarcasm.

Nathan just tightened his lips into a very thin smile and started closing blinds.

“About that,” he started. “I’ve been told I can read you in.”

When he finished closing all the blinds he sat at the end of the table farthest from the door. He folded his hands on the table in front of him.

“What I’m going to tell you may seem pretty outrageous and unbelievable.”

“Not some Area 51 crap is it?”

He looked at Mathers. “In a way, yes. I suppose it is.”

Mathers tossed the folder she had on the pile in front of her in disgust.

“Oh great. Now we get to hear some delusional drama crap from the mystery guest.”

“No no,” Thorn made a calming hand motion towards Mathers. “Let’s see what he says is going on.”

“Thank you.” He pulled a little box out of his pocket, put it on the table. He flipped a switch on it. “There’s a remote possibility that will jam something the police are doing but we shouldn’t be that long.

“I work for a very covert agency. Covert isn’t right. We’re secretive because the public would go nuts if they knew what we protect them from. My agency has one of those cute innocuous acronyms everyone assumes is about the post office. Our agency is called the US Psychology Service.”

“Sure. Makes sense it gets mixed up with the US Postal Service,” said Mathers.

“Yes, it does. The CDC has little if anything to do with the kind of sudden amnesia cases popping up here in Hurricane. The Psychology Service does.”

“Nothing surprising yet, other than secrecy.” Thorn folded his hands.

“We have a mandate to police activities of the people in society with psionic abilities.”

There was immediate silence from the two FBI agents. They looked at each other.

“Does psionic abilities mean what I think it means,” asked Thorn.

“It means people who are telepaths. Specifically here in Hurricane, we have instances where the victims have had their minds wiped.”

“Telepathy?” Mathers seemed to be boggled at the suggestion.

“Telepathy.” Nathan re-iterated.

“What do you police about telepaths, and how can you do it at all?”

“That gets sticky. Telepaths are able to control other people’s minds. As we’ve been seeing here, someone is wiping out the memories of some young men for no apparent reason. But more important is their ability to make people do things.”

“Like hypnosis?” asked Mathers.

“No. Hypnosis has very strong limitations one can get around with extreme expertise, but no, the telepaths have no limits. They can change someone completely into their tool, enslave the target. This worries people in the government for obvious reasons.”

“Influence peddling?”

“Worse. A psionic individual could end up taking over the military, the treasury, any of the intel agencies, the congress, the white house, the administration. It could be catastrophic if a suicidal one got through to one of the launch controls for the nuclear strike options. Taking them to trial is impossible. Think about the way they would affect the judge and jury.”

Thorn’s face scrunched a bit.

“Okay. That sounds dangerous. I agree. But telepaths? Seriously?”

“Think, the remarkable abnormal amnesia here, if that helps any. I’m not a telepath but I suppose I can introduce you to one I know. If they are willing.”

“You’re not but you know them, and if true, shouldn’t there be white hat telepaths on the payroll?”

“You know what happens when you don’t have to depend on a job when it turns out, you don’t need an income?”

“Why wouldn’t they need an income?” Thorn asked.

“Think it through man, they control minds,” said Nathan, “even acting in a mostly honest way, the insider trading opportunities are immense. And the waiter thinks you already paid, then forgets you were even at the restaurant. Or you walk out of the store with what you want after the cashier pretends to ring you out.”

“Oh.”

“One of the ways we catch them and mitigate threats financial manipulations that are too obvious. There’s different classifications we deal with. Harmless, Friendly, Risky, and Hostile. The harmless ones are groups trying to stay away from the public eye altogether. Friendly bunches exist, they help us track down and neutralize threats. The risky are the ones we’ve caught on to but have developed a relatively stable unambitious existence. The hostile are ambitious and often nasty. We think there’s a hostile group gathering here.”

“Does any of this play into our dead bodies, the killer?”

“Yes, it does. The victims were members of that local hostile group. We think they use a kinky oriented club as their hideout.”

“Uh.” Mathers raised a finger. Thorn looked confused.

“You mean telepaths you’re trying to neutralized are being murdered by someone who knows about them but isn’t a part of your organization? Is our killer doing your job? Just how do you Psychology Service guys neutralize telepaths anyway?”

“Most times friendly types help us restrain naughty boys and girls. Sometimes we do resort to assassination.”

“Do you think one of your assassins went rogue here?”

“No. There’s another party on the loose. I’ve consulting resources from local friendlies, but I can’t answer for what they do. They haven’t been doing it either and are mystified.”

“You’re just a ball of cheer, ain’t’cha?” said Mathers.

“Why’s that?”

“We came here to catch a killer, who turns out to be killing bad guys, who probably know they’re targets of a killer, who are already being hunted by good guys as well as the killer. They’re all hunting each other as we try to hunt them, yet all of whom have more information than we do.”

“There is one thing I can help with.”

“I can give you pictures of the club members we are aware of so far, just in case they turn up deceased.”

“Oh joy. I get to keep count.”