The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Connie stood in line at a pastry place she frequented. It was a good bakery with seats of wrought iron and tables with what seemed like marble tops. Probably they weren’t but she really liked how it looked.

She had come in alone. She did draw a lot of attention. She was tall, had on a light blouse that did little if anything to conceal her bra. Without the bra though, it would show enough to seem nude from the waist up.

The skirt she had on ended above her knees, barely. Her legs were accented by heels adding to her height. She might as well have been walking on tip-toe with the strap-on spikes allowing her feet to be partially visible, including her painted toenails. With her hair dropped down to her shoulder blades, and the bright red lipstick she had on, she drew every eye in the place to her.

Clearly a lot of the men in the place were having instant fantasies about her.

She was used to being gawked at. Her sister always encouraged her to dress scantily, saying it’s the guys’ problem, they’ll get over it. Her sister watched over her like a guardian angel too, so she could turn to her when it was necessary.

She enjoyed being the center of so much attention but she did not have any interest in anything more. She came in for a danish and maybe a cup of the mocha. No more than that. Even the most polite and good looking guys would be turned away as gently as she could manage. The gals too.

What she could not know was there was one man there who was not about to just get over it.

Having his interest drawn her direction was a formula for disaster. She wouldn’t find out how much of a disaster until later. He determined she was just the kind of girl he would like to spend time with today.

Those long legs really triggered him. Normally what did him in was tits. He liked nice tits with hard little nipples in the middle. It appeared to him she might have that attribute as well. From the way her chest swelled against her blouse, the nipples really didn’t like being restrained in her bra.

He waited. He was patient. A simple a matter of five or ten minutes was not going to disturb him. He reached out and touched her mind. A faint hint of interest was all he needed her to have to start with.

She turned to smile at him.

Samuel closed his eyes for a moment. They had been watching for a few hours already.

Polly reached over and held his hand. He was really a good man to her. With him in her life, she felt glad of his companionship and the world he shared with her. Their bond was as strong now as when they had met as children.

He was a wild child at the time. Though younger than herself, her sister thought he was handsome. She agreed with May on that. He had a classic chiseled face back then, even as a youngster.

His parents were impressed by her. Her parents were just pleased they became friends easily. Their respective parents were long time associates already so having the families connected by the two as well was another element that pleased them.

The emotional ties worked well between the two of them too. When they got old enough to marry, there was no question it would happen. Their minds had interconnected long before anyway. May and Polly had occasionally let their thoughts touch, but it was not the same as the emotional bond between Samuel and Polly. Their parents taught them the risks of being exposed so they knew not to interact on the psionic level with normals.

The families truly liked when psi bonded with another psi. Bonded psis tended to be stable. Stable and unlikely to expose other psis to the public or authorities. Bonding between two psis was far stronger than simple marriage vows. It helped sustain relationships. Marriages between psis had not once in memory of anyone in the families ever failed. Those connected through their power tended to share so much they often interacted as though they were one.

May was glad to be included when her sister and new husband did things they included her in. Don had been one of Samuel’s friends. Polly and Samuel were bemused by how he seemed struck dumb, going silent the first time May met him. They eventually bonded just as tightly as Samuel and Polly. Samuel and Polly both expected if either of them passed away, the other would end the way May had. Wasting away from grief.

So they made the best of their time together even dealing with other issues. She squeezed his hand again.

They were sitting in the car down the street from where the surveillance nest had been set up. There had been almost no traffic on the street. They hadn’t seen anyone come or go from the building Bart set up in. Only a few people turned towards the entrance to the mysterious club they were watching.

They were sitting quietly still, affectionately exchanging touches in each other’s mind when an SUV went past them. It stopped in front of the entryway to the club. They were watching as the passenger side door popped open. Maybe someone being dropped off for their leisure time?

A moment later they were certain that was not the case. A man came tumbling out the door to the ground. The SUV drove away. They never saw the driver, the door closed from the vehicle’s motion. It took a turn at the next street, so they lost sight of it.

The man on the ground simply did not move. Samuel picked up the cell phone and the first call he made was to a police sergeant he knew. That would bring the police to check on it. Samuel was pretty sure the body would be reported as found? somewhere else. As soon as they showed up it was an easy bet the people from the club would make sure the officers had an entirely different memory of events.

Not that it would fix the problem for the club members.

“Someone else out there is unhappy with these people.”

“I’ll say,” said Polly.

“I wonder, don’t you?”

“A wild talent with a grudge?”

“I don’t know. Do you want to call our nephew or should I?” He smiled at her.

“Hand me the phone, you called Peterson. I’ll call Bart.”

Bart sat in front of Edward’s computer. He was trying to run some images through recognition software on a server somewhere in Europe. Edward thought the best way to do so would be if they could slip something through the big search engine facial recognition software out there.

Edward asked about that. He was told, this way there was no hacking in to be done. This would work without having to hack someone else’s database. An all too valid reason not to go hacking away at someone else’s precious servers.

Moving the equipment up a couple floors, Bart left a motion sensitive camera hidden on the floor below. It meant more stair steps and a little more effort to focus the lens on the camera to capture faces but being surprised again by some odd bird in high heels had no appeal to any of them.

During all this activity, Edward had looked both directions at the street below. Capturing people’s faces was one thing, but what about some more concrete method of tying them to their names?

“Why don’t we just collect the license plates on the street to try to identify the people by their cars?” Edward expressed the idea aloud.

“I’m trying to do that too,” Bart answered. “It isn’t really giving me detail about who goes in or not, but I’m trying to connect faces to licenses and then to names and addresses. It’s not working well. Clearly a large number of the vehicles you see out there are tied to other businesses in the area, or not to people who have entered and left the club. I have a few maybe. They may be what I’m trying to find. I’d like to be more certain.”

“Oh. Do you think maybe the owners of the cars might be among the victims, is that it?”

“It’s certainly part of it. The big problem is the psis we’re looking for can just take someone else’s car anytime they need a ride, leaving the owner believing they’d given it away. Something to think on while you’re coming up with ideas. Don’t stop thinking, it was a good thought.”

“Not one we can use effectively though, I guess.”

“It’s something off to the side which the computer is trying to collate.”

Bart seemed to be thoroughly engaged in doing the search. Edward took his laptop out to where the women folk were. Uncle Samuel was with Polly at the moment, watching over the observation spot. The incident with the mysterious woman with the range finder left everyone a little touchy about the surveillance effort.

He set the laptop up for Elaine to look through the images. As she scrolled through them to see if she recognized any, he tapped into her head to spot any response to the visuals she was perusing. They spent about an hour going through images during which she identified at least a half dozen as being people who had been controlling others at Fire Eaters.

None of the images really triggered anything in her mind he could use to help her though. It made him think he really had to put more time in trying to get the programming out of her head. Every time he thought he was closer to finding a clean way to remove the controls left by Dean, the whole mess slipped away from his grasp. So this, while interesting, was not solving the mental issue.

He brought the pictures she identified to Bart. He put priority on those for identification.

“Have you come up with anything useful?”

“Of course I have. Is it good enough to act on?” Bart looked at Edward, “Not without more information.”

“My aunt tells me to be patient, are you going to do the same thing?”

“It takes time to unravel these groups of wild talents.”

“You’ve encountered a lot of them?” Edward looked at him, confused how there could be so many people who were psionic. “I was told psi abilities were rare. You’re implying they happen more often than I was lead to believe.”

“There’s no common thread and the size of groups vary. I travel a lot and get called on to deal with it more than others would.”

Edward felt something was being left unsaid. There was something left out in context he found himself unable to put a finger on.

“That can’t be true,” he said. Having hit on one thought about how he himself had been raised, he knew there had to be a better answer.

“What do you mean?” Bart asked.

“All these groups are people who use psionics to get sex, for one thing. They get control over people and want to keep doing so. Right?”

“Okay, not what I meant about not having a common thread. I’m sorry,” he turned in the seat to face Edward, resting his arm on the back of the chair. “There are very common motivation patterns in among the wild talent pool. The sex thing is a common thread among more of the males. Men have about a four or five times higher rate of using it to control the opposite sex for pleasure than women do. If we are going to go through the process of profiling them as individuals, with very few exceptions the person who develops psi ability is using it for clearly selfish purposes. Turning others into mindless slaves is a regular thing. It is possible to narrow down some social patterns to an individual with enough knowledge of the standard patterns, I’ve seen it done.

“What I meant was, it’s proven impossible so far to produce a profile telling us where a group might be developing or form. The psionics I tend to help have to tell me there’s a problem. What you’re seeing as sexual can also manifest another way. As overcoming powerlessness. The rare thing is finding someone who is not abusing others with the power. I’ve encountered at least one psychiatrist who uses it beneficially. Some are women with abusive spouses who triggered their ability.

“Revenge may start someone’s ability, but that is rarely where it stops. The corrupting influence psi can have on business is substantial too. You might not be surprised to know there are governments who are aware of psionics. Some of which have idiots who think they can recruit a psionic with talents to do their bidding. That doesn’t work out well for the idiots.”

“The US government knows we exist?” Edward asked. Indeed, the idea was not a shocker, he just hoped it wasn’t a serious thing in the government.

“Most certainly. They do their best to make it sound ridiculous though. The smart agency people keep it buried deep as possible. Those who do know work to keep psis out of politics. Also to keep it out of their own line of work. It scares the crap out of sensible ones.”

“They know about us? Really?”

“Oh, I get where you’re going. No. They know psis exist. They don’t know specifically who. They do sort of keep an eye out to find and neutralize psis. But no, they don’t know who for the most part. They know about a core group of psis who keep a lid on the worst of it. Which is one of the less frequent ways I get contacted.”

“Which is why you have the computer resources you’re using?”

“Which is why I have resources like the data center running the facial recognition software right now.”

“Can’t they trace it here? Won’t that lead someone straight to me and my family?”

Bart peered at him quietly. “No. It won’t. You grew up in a rarefied version of the psionic community. Yours is a pretty damn safe world. Your community is so low profile and self policing the people who might care, simply don’t. If it was going to lead to anyone, there would be a lot of other people in greater danger first.”

“I don’t know you well enough to just accept that at face value, Mister Masterson. I have to give you trust because the families, Uncle Samuel and Aunt Polly do, but I don’t have to like it.”

“I get that, son. I know.”

“For instance, I know your name can’t be Bartholomew Masterson really. That should be obvious,” Edward shook his head. He smirked then said, “Seriously, Bat Masterson? Western Gunslinger? Couldn’t you do better than that?”

Bart let out a loud laugh. “Yeah. About that. I had a forger in California who thought it a wonderful practical joke to use on me.”

“Right. So the forger made you use this name?”

“No no? That was about twenty years ago. The identity has served me well. It is one of the few I have with actual history to it over the last decade,” he appeared as though he felt like reminiscing in his thoughts a while. But he went on, “If anyone really questions it, they’ll find a record of Masterson existing for some time now. So I use it when I deem practical. I have to ask you, don’t you ever joke with your uncle?”

“No, why?”

“It seems obvious to me. Uncle Sam? I think you could get some mileage out of it.”

Edward smiled. “I don’t call him Sam, but I do suppose it has a quirky aspect to it.”

Bart’s cell rang. “Speaking of which,” he answered it, “Oh, hello Polly.”

After a few moments on the phone with her, he looked at Edward. “Polly,” he said into the phone before hanging up, “You and Sam get out of there. I don’t think you want to be there when they come to look into it? right, Edward’s.”

He put the phone down on the desk and looked over at Edward.

“I don’t get it. Somebody is dropping off bodies there. I bet it’s one of their talents. I think. I have to wonder now if the Dean creep was the first one to go, or just another in a chain of them.”

“Do you think there might be another batch out there? Competition for the who is in charge, or even just out to remove someone they see as a threat to their own sphere of influence? Over their sex slaves?” Edward pinched his nose a moment thoughtfully, “Okay, that sounds silly.”

“God help me, I hope it’s not a whole extra group. One was enough to make this difficult. Two? Well fuck me.”

Edward was silent.

Jacob discovered his power while he was at the end of high school.

His first use was during his third period where the teacher started to scold him for not paying attention.

“Mister Blakely, what is so interesting you are not paying attention?”

He blinked, thinking, oh shit. He had been looking out the window again. In this class he was so used to being bored to tears he watched the traffic go by outside. He looked up at the teacher. He really wanted her to go back to the front of the room, to continue her droning lecture. He did not wish to talk to her about his daydreaming so he was relieved.

She turned sharply and walked back to the front of the room. He pondered what happened. She started up her lecture again without hesitation, not questioning him again. Being singled out usually meant a long diatribe on the value of education from her. Something new had happened.

He spent the rest of the day mulling over what happened. He got home where his father was already back from whatever he did. His mother was still at work. Being alone in the house with his father was risky. His father often was in a bad mood. When he was, he took it out on Jacob and his sister.

Or did. Until his sister went off to school. She got a job in the town where the school was. She no longer came home. It angered him a little that she had escaped and he had not. He hoped his father was not at his worst today.

“What are you doing?,” his father had asked.

“Watching something on TV,” he absently responded, not fully registering he was speaking to his father.

“You shitty little punk,” his father stepped between him and the television. The smell hit Jacob about then. His father had been drinking. It was enough to be overwhelming. Jacob wanted to run. Instead, he was frozen in place.

The old man gripped the front of his shirt, yanking him to his feet. Jacob was almost as big as his father at this point. Lifting him from the couch by his shirt demonstrated how strong his father was. He was forcefully tossed towards the kitchen. He ended up on the floor in the doorway.

His father kept a leather strap on a hook in the kitchen to beat him with when angry. Not having any idea what he had done meant he was in for a serious episode from his father. He still had bruises from the last time, two days earlier.

Looking up at his father. If only his father would go out right away and find someone else to get into a fight with. He would really like the break from being his father’s punching bag. The old man stood looking at him blankly. Maybe he’d had more to drink than Jacob thought and lost track of what he’d been doing?

His father spun on his heels, walking out the front door as Jacob watched. Dumb luck, it seemed. Jacob was uncertain why. He added this to the thoughts about his teacher. He returned to his idle afternoon peace without thinking too hard about it.

When his mother got home he mentioned dad was here for a while. Her reaction was to turn her head and walk away. She had nothing to say about it. He thought she believed his dad had beaten him again. She wouldn’t want to discuss if if he had. She never wanted to hear about dad’s violence to him or his sister. He wanted to get away from her too. but at least she wasn’t about to start waling on his backside.

His mother answered the phone that evening, made faces at it for a minute or so. She was a bit on the round side as people in general tend to get. She held the phone away from her ear a bit and rolled her eyes. He only saw her speak a couple times. He didn’t hear anything she said.

“What was that about?” he asked.

“Your father seems to have been blotto this afternoon and got into a fight. Then punched a cop too. They’re going to keep him overnight in the drunk tank and probably arraign him on assault charges tomorrow,” she shook her head, “It’s not as if he’s been contributing anything here anyway. Maybe he’ll have an epiphany when he sobers up.”

“Okay. I doubt it.” He neither offered sympathy or condemnation. It was an odd thought sticking in his mind that somehow he caused it. He had no idea how.

The night ended up being almost peaceful. He wished his sister was still around. She was good eye candy even if she was his sister and annoyed by his very existence. She was so happy when high school ended and she got away from here.

His senior year was ending. He had been accepted at a handful of schools. He and his mother looked them over and they spent time looking into costs. The best he was going to do was one of the state universities, no Ivy League for him. Not even second tier really. So when the letters were reviewed with her, the decision was the college in town.

The advantage to being in the local college was not having to live in the dorms though the school tried to insist he should. His mother convinced them it wasn’t necessary. She explained to him it would all be fine. It really was about the cost. He had hoped it would take him away from dad’s reach. It was satisfactory to him though. He wanted his life to stay mostly status quo. His anger towards his parents was not that big a deal to him. Yet.

After graduation there was little doubt his life was about to be upended.

A group of people he knew were going off to hit the waves after the last day. Jacob was invited along. The group had not exactly asked him along. By being around someone else who invited at the time there was an implicit invitation extended to him. They didn’t care if he went along or not. They were looking to create a party of folk all together at the shore.

The beach was nice, as he saw it. Provided all you were doing was looking at girls and listening to the waves while soaking in the sun. Gulls flapped past him without concern, looking for picnic leavings. Someone had their tunes on too loud but they left around noon. He watched a set of girls in bikinis about two blankets over from where he’d pitched his with the graduation bunch.

During the time since he started to notice his mental thoughts were being acted on by the persons he was directing them at, there was no conscious effort to do it on purpose. Until the day at the beach.

The girls in bikinis definitely attracted his eye. His eye had wandered the beach looking for appropriate fantasy fodder when he noticed them. They looked haughty and bitchy to his discerning eye. He saw one of them give the finger to some guy who tried to talk them up. They all started giggling when the guy walked away again. Probably, he thought, self righteous bitches. He felt he himself had encountered more than his share of them.

Idly he wondered, could one of my those suggestive thoughts get one of them to spend time with me? He decided to try. Like any other horny teen who had yet to get laid, he had plenty of fantasies about fucking some hot chick at random. Those three looked very hot to him.

Two of those nubile ladies had hair bleached by the sun along with rich bronze hued tans. The third was also deeply tanned but had darker hair. She probably had not yet been out in the sun enough for her hair to become light as theirs.

All three were slightly larger than the bikini tops seemed to hold well, their torsos taut, firm looking. Gazing at the three quietly, looking sideways from where he lay, he looked at their faces. Any of them had the right body shapes for his desires.

He focused on their faces for features he liked. Their faces looked smooth, soft, somewhat round in attractive ways. He noticed one of the three had dark eyebrows contrasting with her hair. Maybe, he thought, he should be looking for reasons to exclude instead of selecting for the better things. All three had pretty lips, shiny from lip gloss. His eyes strayed back to the exposed breast flesh. His personal interest in women’s tits clearly influencing where he looked.

From his vantage point he found it difficult to get a good look at their faces. Feeling frustrated as much as anything else caused him to stand. He brushed the sand off himself and looked over at the women. There was one looking over at him and he caught her eye with his own gaze. It was as though he had not made a choice, instead one was made for him.

She was the one with darker hair, a bit darker than sand on the beach. He tried to direct a thought of her liking him at her. A thought of her wanting him to touch her.

Something inside him did a small movement, not enough to be a click, but as though a gear was falling into the right slot. He imagined her putting her hand over her right breast, simply because it was closer and it would be obvious to him if it worked.

Her hand came up slowly. Within moments it was cupping her tit, doing nothing more than holding herself. He did a mental image of him and her walking off. Picking up one of the larger unused towels from the blanket, he kept his eyes on hers. While her eyes were locked on his own, he smiled. Whatever had moved inside him fed his hunger to touch her. He started walking with his feet sinking slightly into the sand, heading past the women’s blanket towards the dunes.

As he was at his closest to their blanket, she got up, muttered something to her friends and then fell in step beside him.

“Hello,” she said.

“Hi,” he could not believe his fortune. He knew though. He knew it was the shifting inside his head causing her to respond. He really wanted to fuck her, but not in front of everyone. She must have had a reaction to his thought about fucking because she took his hand and leaned in against his shoulder as they slowly wound their way into the dunes.

He watched her hazel colored eyes look down at his waist and back to his eyes, her tongue licking softly across her upper lip. She had a hungry, almost ravenous wild look about her now. They wove steadily in between the dunes with bits of wild grass at the tops. Finally, she looked around.

“I think we’ll have privacy here,” she said. Her eyes filled with desire, watching him. He laid the towel out for her to lie down on.

“Well, get comfy,” he said. She knelt down on the towel, turning onto her back to face him. She raised her arms to him invitingly, her chin down and eyes steamy.

He slipped down beside her, taking hold of one of her hands. Without any more discussion at all, he leaned towards her, setting himself to kiss her lips. She raised her head to the touch, soft wet glossy lips meeting his lips, tasting a bit like strawberry. She had the aroma of tanning lotion. For some reason he found this arousing.

Her tongue met his. Their mouths opened, deepening the exploration each other were committing. Her eyes rolled back slightly as she kissed him, her body plastered against his now. He felt her curves, especially the boobs he was so interested in. She wrapped a leg behind one of his to draw him closer to him.

Jacob’s cock was poking its way out of the top of his swim trunks. Her hand found it, touching the tip sticking out, then slipping into his trunks to hold the rigid shaft. He found himself letting out a sigh of delight. He wanted nothing more than to put what she was holding deep in her folds.

She started to push down his trunks. He pulled on the strings holding the bottom of her bikini tied in place. With a little help he ended up kicking aside his trunks with his cock rubbing along her torso. The intensity of their kisses was hot as when it started, her top had come loose freeing her mounds to his sight.

He stopped kissing to suckle on the ripe looking nipple closest to him. It was hard and rubbery as he sucked at it, rolling the tip between his teeth. She was moaning more than a little audibly by now. He was delighted to feel the rolling of her body against his in heaving waves.

Without much effort, he slipped to where he could pull her legs open. She was unreservedly willing by then. Before long the bottom length of his organ was running up and down the length of her vulva. She was becoming wetter as he did, the movements running in against other tender bits hidden by her light pubic fuzz.

Watching his eyes with intensity, displaying her own lust, she reached between them and guided the tip to her opening. He pressed forward, hard as a rock, entering her. The first couple inches he took slowly. He found himself adjusting how he was hanging over her to do so. She wrapped her legs around the back of his thighs and pulled at him with her ankles against him. She rose up to meet him as well.

Soon Jacob was hilt deep. She was arching her back pressing her head against the towel behind her. He wasn’t going to last long, and he knew it. He was living his fantasy. A beautiful girl with gorgeous boobs let him plunge into her without even more than a couple words between them. He rocked with his cock, bottoming out again inside her hot wetness, wrapped in glove like splendor.

Shortly he grunted as his balls tightened. He shoved forward against her opening for all he was worth. He wanted to get himself and his leavings as deep inside her as he could. She had not cum yet but a moment after he had frozen with his orgasm, she gave off a quiet but fierce noise, her face displaying a look he adored. He’d never seen anyone, especially a woman look so helpless before.

It was a look that would stay in his mind a long time. Apparently the desperate helplessness she’d hungered for when his own desires touched her. Even if later as he realized he forced her mentally to go with him, he never once set aside that sense this was the unleashing of pleasure she desired with all her being.

He lay atop her, still hard for a short bit. Slowly his penis shrank from the completion of his surge, the plumbing of her deep private womb. He finally rolled to the side on the towel. She lay there looking dazed and pink from having been fucked. He wondered if she was on birth control. If not, she failed to mention it. He found himself hoping she was pregnant now due to his seed. He liked that thought.

After he caught his breath, and with no further words exchanged between them, he helped her up, tied her knot for her bikini bottoms, ran his fingers through her hair and once more over her nipples. She smiled but pulled the bra part back into place and started to walk away. He watched her lovely ass end as she did, wondering if he’d brushed all the sand off himself.

Jacob was pleased with the encounter. He’d finally gotten laid. Finally. And the woman he’d fucked was so hot no one would ever believe him. He wanted to shout about it to someone. The entire thing was perfect as his fantasies. He loved what he’d done and wanted to do it again. Oh, not with the same bitch, but someone just as hot.

He could hardly wait to try this ability on someone else. Someone who had always pushed him away perhaps. Getting even with the girls from school by doing so would be so sweet.

That chick Debbie maybe, from his last social studies class. If he could find her. He’d love to make her go down on him, force her to let him fuck her in her own bedroom. He could even treat her to some extra payback for the humiliation of rejection by whipping her bottom or backside. Maybe he could steal dad’s strap for the purpose. It appealed to him. As an idea he found it delightful. The possibilities were just starting to eke their ways out of the corners of his mind.

His whole world changed there at the beach that day.

Years later he still liked forcing those who treated him with contempt to become sexual playthings, sometimes for weeks at a time. He found punishing contemptuous women very pleasing. First using them for their womanly parts, then afterwards even more enjoyable to him, he would beat them. Like his father, he kept a couple straps handy for those times he felt the need to let out something more than just sexual tension.

“What?”

“I’m wondering.” Special Agent Thorn was going through some of the lists of murders from different parts of the country. He’d opened the folder for one particular city and stopped. He decided to look in a bit deeper.

“About?” William Bennett, a field associate he worked with asked.

“There’s been several murders in Hurricane, Ohio. Hell, I’ve never heard of Hurricane, Ohio. Their usual record shows about seven to nine per hundred thousand, in a city of a quarter million. If bodies keep dropping as they have lately they’ll have a statistic to compete with Cincinnati.”

“Let me see that,” Bennett reached over and looked at the list. “Statistical blips do happen.”

“I doubt this is a blip. Do you think the folk in the BAU have noticed this?”

“I don’t know. Do you want me to give them a call?”

“Yes. See if they’ve been looking to see if it could be their type of case. Just in case I’m going to get the Homicide department of Hurricane on the phone.”

“Sure. I’ll give NCAVC a shout. Those were all adults, right?”

“Yep, they were.”

“Okay. Maybe I can get a line directly to unit two rather than go through the statistics folk.”

“Just make a call. We’ll worry about who specifically gets sent to Ohio later.”

“Hello Jonathan,” Miss Vanessa said. “What’s going on out there?”

“Hi Vannie,” oh he knew she didn’t like that, “It seems we have yet another member who got themselves killed. Jake is having a little time out there adjusting the memories from law enforcement who seemed to think they found Mister Rourier out front of our entry.”

“What is that now, four or five of our members who have been killed?”

He looked down at the girl between Vanessa’s legs, naked, with small tits almost half nipple and with her legs open. The sex was out on display. Vanessa liked to display her toys at the club as though it made her seem more powerful than she was. He smiled. He wouldn’t bring many of the slaves he took in here. Other members often wanted to try to pry slaves away from each other, a friendly competition to be sure, but not one he cared to participate in.

“Six.” He paused. “Seven if you count Fergie.”

“Fergie?”

“You knew Fergie. You always swiped at least one or two of his girls a month for fun.”

“Was he the idiot who always wore the clip on ties?”

“Usually bow-ties, yeah, why?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I liked him.”

“No you didn’t. You liked the women he’d bring with him.”

“Yes, that. Now I’ll have to steal pets from you.”

“That hasn’t happened even once Vanessa.” She had tried too. He’d never tried to take one of hers. He didn’t particularly want second hand sluts. He was tempted to do so with this little cunt between her legs but he really just couldn’t get interested.

“There’s always a first time Jonathan. So little Fergie is dead? Tut.”

“No, he’s not dead. He’s lost his abilities and can’t remember anything from the last decade. Which is just as well, who needs him?”

“So our weaker members are dropping off and away. I’m not sure why you’re concerned.”

“Jake is angry. I think he may be right. And hey, Dean was not a weak member. He just limited himself to personal projects and hobbies. I know you wanted a chance at the dark haired girl of his. I am disturbed we lost him and Jessie.”

“Jessie too? That bitch was a piece of work.”

“I liked her.”

“I liked her before she had the talent.” Vanessa touched herself between her legs a moment thinking about it.

“So what. It seems pretty apparent we should be working together to find out who is doing this to our members.”

“I’m horny. I’m going to take the little slut and find a niche in the back. When you get more of any idea who our benefactor is, let me know. Meanwhile, I’m otherwise occupied,” she tapped her finger on the naked slave’s shoulder. “Come on. We’re going to get a little privacy.”

“Yes mistress,” replied the girl. They walked off together.

Jonathan looked around. Mr Abernathy had his granddaughter sucking him off to one side. The girl was in her twenties. So Abernathy was an old prune. The old fart didn’t care what he did, even to his own family.

Melody had some guy licking her foot, with another holding a tray of food for her. She liked being served by all the buff looking jock types. When it came to sex though, he knew none of them would be allowed to actually get off.

The room had what seemed like a couple dozen more people lording over slaves. Some of the enslaved bore recent scars too. Jonathan had tried doing the violent treatment of his sex toys a few times but it did nothing for him. It was amusing how many different ways members blessed with the talent found to use their slaves.

Pretty much any kink he could imagine had shown up at one time or another at the club. Some of them decidedly not his thing. If there was something going on he didn’t like seeing, he just went to another room. He also didn’t spend as much time here as other members. He kept his hobbies at home most of the time. He had never gotten rid of any slaves he took. He did not want someone to find them and learn about him through them.

He worked with Jake though a while back. Jake met him at a strip club. He was trolling for something new and different. The place had turned out not to have particularly desirable subjects. Jonathan preferred his slaves to have less wear and tear when he took them. Jake had been looking for a place to gather other talents together, not new pets. On first meeting they were suspicious of each other. Over the years though, they tended to stay out of each other’s choice of pets, building a mutual absence of distrust perhaps.

Jake set this place up twelve years ago when the normal owners were going bust. For those with the talent, getting money was a simple thing. Bringing other talents together in one group was a bit more difficult. They did not seem to want to work with each other. Jonathan had been pretty easy to convince it would help them avoid needless conflicts. The squabbles between those with talents were still regular, but they hadn’t been fatal.

For the talented that is. He really didn’t care what happened to others, even other people with the talent. He did want allies he could count on. There were enough normals for those with talent to have a constant stream of slaves without interfering with each other. All they had to do was make sure the normals didn’t know about people who had the talent. If they worked together, they might even be able to take over the normals’ government.

It seemed Jake wanted to run things completely. Jonathan figured Jake was too focused to notice Jonathan’s own intentions. His own experiments were coming along. Once he could accomplish his own plan, none of this would matter at all. He’d be able to do anything at all. Most of all, he would escape death. Forever.

“All these guys here,” he whispered to himself, “none with imagination at all.”

Sandi looked back at the blue Ford Expedition. It was rolling slowly towards the river. The people it belonged to were somewhere on the far side of town, but she had not taken it. Those folk probably thought they had made a gift of it to a man at the mall.

The matchbook she left inside finally lit from the burning cigarette and the fumes of the gas poured about inside the vehicle burst into flame. It wouldn’t completely destroy it, but it would get rid of anything connecting her to it. When they tried to backtrack it, the police would find a very confused family with no idea anyone but the odd man at the mall was in it.

She would have to explain to Connie what happened to the man. Or. Maybe she wouldn’t. Connie had noticed she would step in to protect her. Maybe Connie would stop worrying about where the undesirables went and realize they were not what they seemed.

More than anything else she wanted a shower. Maybe a bath? Sleep too. That would be good. Her sister would prefer she cleaned up, she bet. First she had to catch a bus to get to the apartment. She did not want to call a cab to get her anywhere near where the cops would find the vehicle. She turned away as it slipped into the river, putting out the flames.

Half an hour later she was on the bus across from a man who wanted to look up her skirt. It amused her so she let him look. He started to get up but she told him in no uncertain terms he could look but that was it. When it was clear he wasn’t going to pay attention to her warning she slipped her hand into her purse, pulling just enough of the Smith & Wesson grip out for him to realize she was armed.

He was content to look afterwards, rubbing his crotch occasionally. She thought he was funny. Connie would have thought him gross and disgusting. Connie would probably be right, she supposed, but she didn’t care. She liked how her looks affected men sometimes. Sometimes women too.

He was still on the bus when she got off. She was guessing he kept riding after his stop in order to keep gawking. She was amused. She called for a cab to pick her up. She was still no where near home, being a cautious woman. Even if she thought Connie was anything but.

Edward sat in one one of the chairs the entertainment room had. The women were all watching some sappy thing he’d probably like if he weren’t trying to pry the lid off Elaine’s mental constraints again. Irked he had been unable to do this. At least not as easily as releasing Lexi from her phobia. He found it unreasonable he was struggling so much.

It was still like moving through a dense maze of mixed tubing, pipes, wiring, duct work, and old storage locker junk. He did identify one central point where Dean had left a major stamp on her mind. He was in there looking it over and poking little probe tentacles into it when he felt a major shift happen, rather suddenly, and unexpectedly.

He didn’t know what happened. He realized what he’d done could be undone simply though. A moment or two afterwards he managed to shift things back the way they’d been. He couldn’t take any chance it was going to cause more damage. Better, he thought, to put it back and figure out later what happened.

He looked up and Elaine was shaking her head. Her eyes were wide.

“Wow,” she said. She turned to look at Edward. She clearly had a reaction to what he’d done. He had a guess as to what the reaction was too. Prudence pressed the pause button, looking to see what Elaine was reacting to. Lexi turned towards him too. Elaine slowly stood.

He held up his hand palm out and said, “No.”

“But,” Elaine started. Lexi looked at her with questions all over her expression. Prudence had a similar worrying face.

“No. I’m gonna take a little walk. I’ll be back in a little bit.”

“Hey, I’ll come with you,” Lexi quickly started to get up.

He sighed, slipped over to her and gave her a tender touch on her lips with his own. “No, you guys get back to your movie. I just need to clear my head a bit.” He ran his fingers over Prudence’s hair gently, then smiled at Elaine. He paused by her to give a peck on the cheek so she knew they were okay.

“I’d be happy to just walk with you,” Lexi replied.

He did one of those little nods where he was going to disagree. She was getting to notice these little motions and habits he had. “Uh. If you come with me, I’ll be distracted by girl parts. That won’t do anything but make me horny. Which, if you don’t object, I plan to be later anyway, okay?”

“Oh. Okay.” She ran her fingers along his arm affectionately, “don’t get into any trouble.”

“You bet.”

Once they heard the gate closing on the lift, Lexi and Prudence looked to Elaine.

“Okay, something happened, didn’t it?” blurted Lexi.

“Yeah, spill. What’s gives Ellie?”

She watched the door he went out and stood quiet a moment.

“Ellie?” said Prudence. “What is it?”

“I don’t think he expected it, but,” she turned back to look at Prudence, “for an instant the compulsion came back. I felt the pull.”

“Dean is dead though. It’s not like you’re going to go to a cemetery, right?”

“I don’t know what to think,” said Elaine. “When he wants to talk about what’s going on, he’ll explain it to us. Or me. I don’t know.”

“What do you think happened?”

“I think he hit the spot where Dean set up the compulsion deelly-bopper.”

“Deelly?” Lexi squinted.

“Something connected me to Dean. It used to be an intense pull Lexi, an obsessive need. It was an intense compulsion. Until he died. It’s got to have something to do with the restrictions on me being able to be with someone else without pain.”

“Oh. So he triggered it? That must have been confusing, since Dean is dead.”

“Yeah. Yeah,” she sat idle a moment in silence. “I don’t know. Keep it on hold. I’ll just be a minute. I need to use the bathroom.”

While she was gone, Prudence turned to Lexi. “Lexi?”

“Yes?” Lexi was considering getting more to drink.

She really enjoyed the company of the two other women and Edward’s presence with them. She’d been snugging against Prudence for a little bit during the flick. Snuggling the other place she had in mind would distract Edward. Though it was possible Prudence and she distracted him anyway.

“She’s not telling us everything.”

“How do you know?” asked Lexi.

“I don’t. Maybe I’m wrong.”

“You having an intuition moment?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. I’m curious. It’ll have to wait for her or Edward to talk, I guess.”

“He’ll explain, I’d think. And relax Pru, the look on her face was not a bad one.”

“The way he rushed to step out? I think he’s worried. He gets so concerned about causing harm.”

“Okay, oh, here she comes, do you want another drink?”

“No, I’m good.”

Elaine came back in, settling in where she’d been. “Start it up, Pru. I’m settled again.”