The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“How did this happen to you, James?”

Dr Turner sat on the ottoman, his posture hunched and nervous as his eyes darted around the room trying to look anywhere but at Tom.

James? How had the boy—no... how had this MAN known his first name? Sure, some people in his small personal life knew his birth name. People like his long estranged sister but really, no-one had called him James since his wife had passed nine years back.

It was a small concern given his current circumstances but for some reason it seemed to open him like a clam shell and his eyes snapped down. Away from his ex-student who was no longer just another college undergraduate.

“My formula, I spoke—I spoke to you about it yesterday, or was that the day before now? Does anyone have the time? I—I seem to have misplaced my wrist watch...”

He was looking down at his dirty bare feet as his rambling voice trailed off. In truth Dr James Turner had lost more than his wrist watch. Every article of clothing and accessory on his body had been torn to shreds under the sheer mass of his brutal transformation. Thank god he didn’t still wear his wedding ring or James might have been missing a finger.

He was draped in a plain woolen blanket that a stunning, statuesque redhead had begrudgingly given him. She had sniffed and looked down her nose at him briefly as though the thought of even touching Dr Turner repulsed her.

“It changed you into that creature, I understand James.” Tom’s voice was deeper and smoother than Dr James Turner remembered from the other day.

Akin to the distant rumble of a tropical waterfall into a deep diving pool. Calming but with a hint of hardness in it that bespoke supreme command. It was the voice that had utterly cowed The Beast by speaking in stony hard tones as indomitable as the mountains themselves.

“Where is the Beast now, James?”

Tom kept using his first name as though he were stripping James Turner of his honorifics and titles so they could simply talk as men, as equals. Though it was clear that they were far from that now. James could feel the Beast inside himself, burrowing deep into his being and huddling away like a nocturnal animal hiding in a hole scared of the blazing bright sunshine outside.

“It’s—It’s still in me but it’s scared. I—I think it’s scared of you...” Dr Turner stammered, fixing his eyes on his filthy hands in his lap.

They were caked in dirt and there was mud under his cracked fingernails. In his periphery he could see the same exquisite flame-haired warrior woman from earlier dragging a moaning, writhing naked female across the room by a slim ankle.

…over to Tom in fact.

“Look at me, James. We are men. So we will talk and behave like men. Look me in the eyes, James.”

With what felt like a superhuman effort Dr James Turner raised his aged balding head to finally look directly at Tom.

The young man was seated on a long brown fabric couch that had been pushed into the middle of the living room as though he were its centerpiece. Because he was. The whole room reeked of sex, the pervasive odor of man-cum and women’s pussy juices permeated the air as thick and eye-watering as mustard gas. Dr Turner trembled as he looked upon the main source of the potent smell.

Were he to stand, James would guess that Tom might tower over six and a half feet tall. His naked shining body defying all aesthetic belief.

Muscles stacked atop sculpted muscle to build a form that would have been at home on the very summit of Mt Olympus. His hair was full and thick. His facial features strong with a defined jawline men could break anvils upon, but it was his eyes that were both captivating and intimidating.

His irises were white! Not the filmy eggshell white of a blind man or the cheap powder white of cosmetic contact lenses but the pure crystalline hue of flawless agate with hints of gold flecked through them. They stared into Jame’s very soul when he locked his own with them and it made him want to cringe away but Dr Turner was powerless to do so.

Changed as he may be, this was still Tom Brown… wasn’t it?

Dr Turner had taught the boy Math in Senior year and Biology the year before. They had got along well, hadn’t they? In that reserved and mutually respectable fashion any good student teacher relationship should be.

Except that Tom hadn’t ever been so shamelessly naked in those interactions. Never been so naked or erect… nor was his massive fleshy cock so enthusiastically sucked on by Ms Summer’s; the school’s gorgeous XXX-infected Athletics Coordinator.

The hyper-voluptuous minx was plunging her pretty head up and down Tom’s stupendous length and girth as though she were trying to kill herself on it. Taking his immensity tremendously deep then loudly slurping her way noisily back up it with ecstatic cock-garbled moans. All before lunging back down to take it impossibly to its thick base.

Her glossy auburn hair was swept over one bare elegant shoulder. The silken mass swaying like a shining curtain in time with her gurgling movements. Her gag reflex was evidently nonexistent as she knelt submissively on the cum-soaked carpet, hugging and fucking his broad muscular thigh with her immense pillowy tits...

Tits that shone wetly with the saliva and precum bubbling from the seal of her plush bee-stung lips stretched around Tom’s massive steely shaft. It coated her exquisite chin before dribbling into the catcher’s mitt of her expansive, bulging cleavage that was gathered up beneath her flushed suckling face.

...and Tom was just sitting there, not batting an eyelid as though this were normal. Unremarkable. As if this was all his due…

“Dear Jesus, Tom... your eyes!” Dr Turner managed to gasp out.

Tom just raised an eyebrow at him. Dr Turner would guess he hadn’t got around to looking into many mirrors recently. Tom was probably too busy fucking so many incredibly striking women. It made sense when he looked upon the young man. Tom would draw women like bees to honey and more-over he would be able to deliver what they desired endlessly...

No other man James knew of could promise the like, not even the Beast.

“Aren’t they just sooo~ dreamy? I love my big strong Daddy’s sexy eyes...“

That was Holly, one of the students and wowsers but hadn’t she grown up fast ...or at least her tits had. The petite blonde’s schoolgirl body was super trim, impossibly tight and all youthful sexy exuberance until it reached her chest.

There her massive fleshy mounds exploded off her slim torso like two great bouncy milky melons capped with cute little rosy nipples that stood out like perfect twin raspberries. Her stunning young face was pure cherubic innocence as she knelt on the couch beside Tom. She was snuggled lovingly into his rocky side, under one strong draped arm and resting her small pale hands on Simone Summers furiously bobbing head with a happy bubbly giggle.

Behind the couch standing above Holly—regal as any empress—was a radiant golden Goddess with a long gorgeous mane of rich chocolate curls reaching long and thick down her back and glowing jade eyes. James Turner didn’t know her name and couldn’t look at her directly without wanting to drop to his knees and weep in joy at just looking upon her transcendent beauty.

The Angel’s body was skyscraper tall, riper than a cherry and inhumanly perfect. She was all the ideals of glorious cock-hardening sex and boundless baby-making fertility made flesh.

Her perfect shining skin. Massive buoyant breasts. Sculpted exotically fae-like face. All of her completely ignoring Dr Turner as though he didn’t warrant existence as she tied Holly’s long platinum hair into twin flowing baby-girl ponytails with shiny blue satin ribbons and planting the occasional fond peck on the XXX-schoolgirls exposed crown.

“His eyes certainly are beautiful, Sweetling, now hush. Our Master is speaking.” The goddess whispered to Holly in a voice that belonged in some on-high celestial choir.

The young blonde just nodded up at her mutely with her big baby blue eyes before turning her attention back to helping Ms Summers worship Tom’s turgid, unyielding manmeat. Giggling softly again as she buried her tiny hand in the gym teacher’s abundant autumn locks and pushed her down onto her Daddy’s hot shaft until XXX-slut’s throat visibly bulged with its huge invasive size.

“Can you control this change, James or is it involuntary? Are you aware of your actions while in the form of this “Beast”?” Tom asked in a casual conversational manner.

He appeared completely unphased by the tall fiery-haired busty amazon arranging a third half-conscious, half-undressed thoroughly fucked XXX-infected beauty around the foot of the leg Ms Summers wasn’t currently titty-fucking.

“It’s partially involuntary, triggered by arousal but... not entirely unpleasant. It—It hurts at first, my anatomy reshaping itself but then... well, then I am strong and I f-fuck. Excuse my vulgarity but there... there just isn’t another word for it. I don’t remember all of it but I catch flashes here and there. It feels good...”

Dr Turner was beginning to feel a bit better. Tom’s eyes hadn’t wavered from his own and the teacher felt like he was falling into that bright pearly gaze. This Man wasn’t going to hurt him but was trying to understand him. Dare James hope that Tom was trying to help him?

Wait, but he had something to tell this new Alpha Adonis before him. James had read it in Tom’s school medical file right before all the chaos with the Nurse Temple had so rudely derailed him.

“Tom I have something I need to tell you—”

“That’s Master Tom or Sir to you, worm. You will address my Lord with respect or I will make you regret it!” The ruby haired, beach-bunny tanned, warrior goddess hissed at him, angry spittle flying from her full pouty lips.

It seemed she had gotten fed up with trying to position the three gorgeous drowsy XXX-girls around Tom’s feet and had climbed up onto the free side of the couch. She looked ready to crawl right into his lap. To force Ms Summers off his gigantic cock then slide her own hot dripping cunt down onto his thrusting steely length to ride him to thrilling pussy-crushing completion.

Dr Turner wanted to hang his head in shame but Tom’s blazing bright white stare held him captive. Even his pupils seemed to be shining like tiny flaring supernovas now.

“Tania, James and I have always treated each other with respect. You will behave accordingly.”

The iron ring of command in his voice made the busty amazon quiver and she let out a lusty needy groan of desire as he circled her teensy-tiny hourglass waist in his big strong hands. Tom lifted her tall powerful frame effortlessly and settled her twitching naked pelvis astride his bare corded thigh.

The moaning valkyries knees opened like butterfly wings, pressing deep into the seat cushions, her pink glistening pussy lips immediately spreading as she bore down on the ridges of his hard bulging leg muscles. Grinding and panting, she seized his handsome face in both delicate perfectly manicured hands and pulled him into a molten hot passionate kiss.

Dr Turner could see their tongues sliding past each other’s lips. Long strings of saliva stretching as they finally pulled apart with a long soulful groan from this Tania. Her hips bucked and thrust against his leg. Her muscular shelf of an ass flexing and rolling. Smearing and marking him with her girl cum as she broke the kiss with a small whine and ducked her chin low into her bouncing abundant chest. She squeezed her eyes shut in determination to feel more of herself sliding and grinding along as much as his hot muscular flesh as possible.

“MMMmmnph~ sooorrry Maaaaster...“

Her words, thick with pleasure and service seemed to placate Tom as he returned his brilliant gaze to Dr James Turner who straightened up again under the power of this demigod-like figure’s respectful attention.

Suddenly it didn’t matter that Tom was the epicenter of a writhing mass of transcendentally beautiful woman-flesh. Four beyond stunning goddess’s fawning over him as he idly stirred a bare foot around three other softly grasping and groaning, drowsing XXX-sluts with milk-stained lips as though they were a playful litter of sleepy kittens. His toes pressing into their soft, pliant yet firm flesh here and there. His warm touch making them moan erotically and reach for him with drunken fumbling fingers.

“What do you need to tell me, James?” He asked, his full attention still on Dr Turner.

Tom’s blazing eyes were unwavering even as he visibly came, erupting into Ms Simone Summers hungry suctioning mouth and down her hot tight throat. The good Doctor shuddered as he saw the thick wads of Tom’s manseed bulge out her slender esophagus as she greedily gulped it down, pushing herself lower on his fantastic length and giving him more direct access to her swelling cum-hungry stomach.

“Mmmnnph~!”

Happy incoherent noises came from the woman. Her gratuitous curves trembling in thunderous climax as a powerful spray of her hot honey squirted forcibly through her skintight lycra booty shorts. It gushed down her thick clenching thighs to soak into the soiled carpet between her knees.

The sexy teacher’s smooth belly swelled visibly as though she were a water balloon attached to a pressure hose. There had to be gallons of Tom’s molten manseed filling her to have such a dramatic effect on the mewling orgasmic woman. When it was finally over, the golden Goddess came around the couch to gently disengage the ravenous brunette from her Master’s still rigid throbbing cock.

“Nooo~ more… I need just a little more of the Master’s divine seed…“

Simone let out a small animal whine as she was led away on rubbery legs but the Goddess supported her weight easily and began whispering softly in the stumbling XXX-slut’s ear. Holly and the redhead’s small hands immediately latched onto Tom’s cum-slick pole. Stroking, teasing and pumping at the burning unflagging hardness as though it was the most important thing in the world to them.

Throughout all of it, Tom’s bright white stare had never twitched or slipped from the Doctor’s own.

James Turner gulped audibly as the Beast inside him whimpered at the sheer display of dominance.

“I-I think... Tom, do you know the virus attacks us on a genetic level? Do you know why it was named the XXX-virus in the first place? Because it wasn’t because of all the sex...”

“Yes James, the CDC released early reports that the virus works on the level of our DNA, attaching itself to the helix and acting like a third strand of the genome then out-populates all other cells in rapid mitosis.”

Tom understood, Dr Turner allowed himself to grow a bit excited at finally having someone to discuss this with. Someone who wasn’t just humoring him until they could get at his dick. For certain, he knew this reborn version of Tom was completely different to the earnest if unexceptional schoolboy of yesteryear.

“Yes! Similar to adenoviruses and herpesviruses but, at the same time, completely different. It unerringly anchors itself to our DNA genome at the sex chromosomes, the X and Y...”

CRASH!!

The sound of splintering wood and the screams of two young women from outside had Tom on his feet so fast that Dr Turner had blinked and nearly missed the movement.

“Tom! Help!”

The sound of his sister’s voice crying out in panic was enough to set the towering glowing young man and his women into immediate action. The golden Goddess was staring intently out of a large bay window beside the spot where she had been resting Ms Summer’s trembling body against the lounge room wall.

“Tom my Love. Some rather large uniformed women are breaking into my home and taking your sisters.”

Mrs Hope’s short hurried report was all the confirmation of trouble that Tom needed.

Tania was standing by his side, ready for orders and to spring into action at a moment’s notice. Holly was already running for the front door, her massive melons bouncing freely as she ran, desperate to help her new family. Tom would have stopped her but, in fact, he was hot on her heels.

“James, Tania—with me. We might need some help from that friend inside you, Dr Turner.”

“But... but... you scared him off! I can’t just—it doesn’t work like that!”

Heedless of Dr Turner’s panicked words, Tom was striding naked for the front door with a bare-assed Tania in lockstep beside him. Her exquisite face set into a stern expression, her body set for violent action.

She had never looked more like a beautiful, battle hungry Valkyrie torn straight from Norse mythology and Tom would fuck her brains out right there on the front lawn if she fought half as good as she looked and helped saved his sisters.

Then Holly hit the front door running and flew through it with a wild cry...

“Britney! Jessica! We are comin- urk!”

The diminutive blonde’s words were cut off by a dull thudding noise and a large black nylon net suddenly wrapping around her busty body, tangling her in its webbing. Then she was jerked off her dainty feet and dragged out into the darkness of the front yard.

Tom didn’t roar or scream as he burst forth in a rush of strength—prepared to tear the fucking net from his BabyGirl with his bare hands—but Tania did.

She let out a ululating war cry of righteous anger as they exited the house to face their invaders together. Two black vans were parked out on the darkened street. The rear fenders faced the house and the back double doors flung wide open.

A massive brunette with straight chestnut brown hair tied up in a business-like bun stood in the back of one van quickly hauling in Holly by a long nylon cord attached to the net. She was impressively tall, fit and lean. Dressed in snug camouflage pants and a simple black workout bra that left her toned six-pack bare.

At her splayed feet lay a discarded air cannon with four long hollow prongs instead of barrel and Tom moved to intercept her before she could lay a single finger on his precious HollySlave.

These mad women thought they could come here and take what was his?! His family? His lovers? His property?!

So focused was Tom on this woman that he was almost caught off guard when another—a powerfully built blonde dressed in identical fashion to the first—stepped up out of nowhere and swung a meteoric haymaker aimed for his temple.

She was fast and practiced but he was quicker, catching her fist in his open palm. Tom was almost shocked at the force of the impact. She was strong but as she struggled for a brief second he quickly learned that he was stronger. He looked directly into her face with a perplexed frown, who were these invaders?

The woman was very pretty even as her own expression shifted from disbelief to dismay then down-right horror as she realized the mistake she had made in coming here. She began to tremble as Tom held her fist tight in his iron grip and leaned in to glare directly at her, ready to unleash all of his boiling rage.

“Oh God...” The blonde whimpered, shutting her eyes tightly as her hand came up between their faces holding a long cylinder of glass...

FLASH!

A searing white light strobed right into Tom’s wide open eyes, blinding him and sending him stumbling backwards. Reeling, he didn’t let go of his blonde assailant. He held tight to the wailing woman until two cold prongs pressed hard against the dense meat of his forearm and an electric shock set his muscles to twitching. His hand spasmed reflexively, involuntarily releasing her.

“Master!”

Tom was quick to recover. Shielding his spotty vision from the bright flashing device laying on the lawn. It kept illuminating the scene with quick flashbulb pulses of light and a strange muted popping noise.

Off to his right Tania was engaged with two more camo and black clad women. Trying to fight her way to Jessica and Britney, already having seen her TomLord heading for Holly. The kidnappers had extendable batons out but Tania had the reach advantage on them with a steel shod garden rake she had picked up somewhere.

In the fast pulsing light the fight was all playing out like a horrifying stop-motion animation.

His warrior woman was giving the two intruders hell but they weren’t surrendering ground fast enough and another of the uniformed kidnappers was already bundling his sisters into the back of the second van parked outside of Mrs Hope’s home. The girls were trussed up with large thick zip ties and gagged with duct tape over their silently screaming mouths. Jessica and Britney’s eyes were wide with terror as the doors closed, sealing them within the dark vehicle.

BOOM!

Tom grunted as something struck his back, just under his left shoulder blade hard.

He turned and saw the blonde invader had retreated back to the van Holly was being bundled into. She was cradling the hand he had caught earlier. With her stood another tall strong fitness model-type with soft Asian features clutching a taser pistol and the original hair-in-a-bun brunette; she of the net gun who had ensnared his BabyGirl.

Except she was holding some broad barreled shotgun instead, which she racked and brought up to point at him again. She glared at Tom down the iron sights before firing a second time.

BOOM!

Tom knew he was fast but probably not fast enough to dodge a bullet. Besides, as the dull throbbing in his back had already subsided, Tom suspected he wouldn’t have too.

It still hurt like hell as something impacted violently with his broad muscular chest, but looking down Tom noted that he wasn’t bleeding and on the ground lay a small, soft, misshapen nylon pouch.

…a bean bag?

Glowering back up at his would-be attackers, they stared back at him with wide eyed looks of shock and disbelief on their stunned faces.

“Holy fuck... really?” The blonde gaped at him even as he stalked angrily towards them.

Like a stampede swiftly gathering the momentum, Tom closed in on them. His bare toes dug into the dewy front lawn as his exposed cock swung pendulously between his bulging thighs.

“He isn’t real... he cannot be real...” The raven haired assailant with the taser moaned, her knees knocking together as her thighs began to slide against one another.

Her voice was strangely prim with a clipped educated accent, perhaps British? It hardly mattered in the moment...

“Alpha squad, get back in the van. That’s an order! We’re withdrawing.” The beanbag blasting brunette cried, firing off another shot which Tom rapidly shrugged off as he quickly ate up the distance between them.

“But Tamaraaa~ Just look at hiiiim~” The injured blonde whined almost collapsing to her own knees when Tom was almost atop them.

Dropping two shining metallic cylinders practically at her own feet, the assailant identified as Tamara wrapped an arm around each of her team-mates’ waists, braced her feet and leapt through the side door of the van just before Tom reached them.

It wasn’t graceful or impressive. It looked painful and messy as one of them clipped a shin and they all landed badly in a tangled heap of limbs. All awkward shoulders and twisted spines.

...Or at least that was the quick impression Tom got before the two primed grenades exploded at the same moment he closed in on the large van.

The flash-bang was instantaneous and really Tom should have expected it as he was blinded for the second time in less than a minute. The tear gas was a fraction slower but far more insidious.

“Drive!”

The female voice was panicked and pitched high with terror as Tom’s skin burned and his eyes watered.

An engine revved loudly as he collided heavily with the side of the van, steel buckling under the might of his impact, his hand reaching out wildly to grab at those within. Something soft but warm filled his palm so he latched onto it and pulled.

A feminine scream of pain and fear filled his ears as Tom yanked that someone free of the vehicle’s interior just as the van’s tires spun up, burning rubber and then shooting away down the street. Its heavy back end fish-tailed wildly as the driver fought to regain control of the wild high-speed retreat.

Standing there—the captured attacker still in hand, half-blinded with his skin, nose and mouth on fire from the fast dispersing gas—Tom finally let out a furious, bellowing roar.

Nobody took what was his!

Tamara Wight trembled as she patched up Harper in the back of the speeding jouncing van.

The fit, blonde Mammazon was whimpering as Tamara tore open the emergency first aid kit and unspooled a length of gauze to tightly wrap the other woman’s badly sprained wrist. The van’s interior reeked of fear tinged with a remaining waft of the tear gas she had unleashed in her desperate bid to escape with what little they had managed to grab in the mad chaos.

Equipment jingled in the mountings on the vehicles walls as the racer van mounted the pavement briefly and Tamara swore back at Lindsay, their get-away driver but she could hardly blame her. The whole operation had been one massive, terrifying disaster!

She could recover from this though, Tamara had to. Mistress Sierra did not take reports of failure kindly, not at all. The carry-over fear of what they had just experienced warred with the awful anxiety of having to report back to the bewitching CEO within Tamara and made her hands shake as she tried to secure the loose end of the bandage with some medical tape.

“He will come for me.”

The voice was small and girlish but rang clear and confident over the roar of the gunning engine. It came from the mess of webbing jammed up behind the driver’s seat. A bare foot, a partially free arm and few blonde locks of hair peeked out from the mess of black nylon cordage that entangled their captive as twin bright baby blue eyes flashed in the darkened rear of the van.

There wasn’t any fear in the fucking XXX-slut’s eyes and Tamara felt a hot lump of resentment form deep in her flat muscled belly for it.

“Shut up you little whore, you don’t know what you’re talking about!” She snarled over her shoulder at the beautiful barely legal XXX-infected teen.

Her injured shin throbbed painfully in time with her racing heartbeat and she could feel a slow flow of blood pooling in the heel of her left boot. Tamara had knocked it badly in her mad leap to escape and she would be lucky if her tibia wasn’t fractured.

How had it all gone so wrong?

“He’ll come for me. My big strong DaddyMaster will come for me...” Harper let out a small animal whimper of terror at the carefree sing-song lilt in the captured schoolgirl’s voice, “...and then you will all be in biiig~ trouble.“

DaddyMaster? What sort of mind-fuckery was going on in that house? None of this made any sense to Tamara. She and her highly trained strike-squads should have been able roll in and mop up the scene like they always did.

Then He had appeared and complicated everything, far more than she or anyone else could have ever accounted for...

“Don’t listen to her, we’re going to be just fine.” Tamara told her quivering muscular blonde squad-mate as she ripped the leg of her own camouflage pants open to inspect the damage on her right lower shin.

…Yeah, it was torn and bleeding but it was nothing the Chief Mammazon enforcer couldn’t endure. “We just need to get back to HQ and hunker down. We can all lick our wounds while Mistress Sierra comes up with a new plan.”

Tearing the plastic cap off a small bottle of isopropanol with her teeth Tamara squinted hard into the pain as she splashed the broken inflamed flesh liberally with the alcohol solution. She finished cleaning the wound before pulling out a large adhesive patch to cover it. Tamara was working on autopilot as her strategic mind raced, sorting through dozens of possible actions and their likely outcomes, finding few that appealed to her.

“But—But what if she is right? Tamara, we can’t…”

“Shut up and let me think for a second!”

Her Mistress Sierra wasn’t going to be happy with this less than optimal outcome and she was going to make that displeasure crystal clear and visceral.

Somehow that didn’t feel fair to Tamara. She was returning with a captured specimen carrying a brand new strain of the XXX-virus, rock solid intel on at least one—probably two—hither unheard of new male strains (a male XXX-infected? Who could ever have dreamt of anything like that?) and the two hostages to be used as leverage against them to boot.

...and she had accomplished all of this in spite of that… that MAN!

The clear and recent memory of the brief fight against him ran a freezing cold icicle of panic up her spine at the same time as a smoldering embers ignited in her quivering womanly nethers.

He had been dreadful to oppose yet so magnificent to behold. So supremely confident and so very, very strong!

As a Mammazon Tamara recognized and respected strength in all forms. She respected her squad’s lethal brutality that allowed them to burst into safe houses and fortified homes to combat and subdue the weak little men that still hid themselves away in fear. She respected the strength of will, cunning and beauty her Mistress possessed in running and growing her ruthless organization in the middle of global chaos.

But that Man…

“I belong to Tom. He will come for me... and then for you.”

“Please.... p-please stop saying that.” Harper whispered, nervously clutching her bandaged wrist to her bountiful chest as Tamara was lost to a not-so-distant memory, replaying all she had seen in the hope of spotting some flaw or weakness she could exploit.

This… Tom had gone toe to toe with Harper, one of her best and strongest Mammazons in nothing but a satin bathrobe and bare feet. He had handled an elite armed Mammazon striker as though she were a goddamn puppy and did it all without any sign of strain or effort.

His movements had been all monstrous power hidden away behind smoothest flowing grace and near superhuman speed. His stacked muscular form rivaling then exceeding Tamara’s own when he had charged her. He had shrugged off tasers, flash-bangs and even bean bag rounds fired close-range from a fucking shotgun.

Tamara shuddered even as her pussy smoldered.

No woman could have expected to fight an impossible man like that Tom.

Tamara was surprised to find her hands were gliding over the tops of her thick smooth thighs. Rubbing sensually against the heavy fabric close to her warm tingling womanhood. She hurriedly pulled them away even as her legs continued to slide and rub together. She had to get a handle on herself and this whole situation! She clenched her mighty fists and tried to concentrate...

Thankfully all of Beta Squad had radioed in to report that they were fine, if somewhat banged up by some redheaded psycho. Jeezus but they had lost Annemie!

That Man had crashed blindly into the van—crumpling the solid steel siding—then reached in and dragged all two hundred pounds of the tall Asian Mammazon out of a fast-moving vehicle by her thigh as though she weighed nothing!

Urgh, but was it getting warmer back here?

Tamara needed to clear her head. She needed to think… was the prisoner staring back at her with a knowing smirk on her little bitch face. Well they would all watch that grin vanish once she was faced with Sierra Monroe’s blazing supernova beauty and machismo... or was that marianismo?

“Tamara, we need to report in.” Lindsay called back to Tamara as she navigated them down the dark suburban streets leading back towards the city center and safety. She had the van back under control at last. “You’re going to have to update Mistress Sierra on our sitrep.”

Tamara didn’t miss the implied expectation that it was going to be her taking all the goddamn heat. It was her responsibility as squad leader after-all.

She just had to spin it right. Present her Mistress with the opportunities they had snatched out the otherwise cluster-fuck of an operation and downplay the losses.

She turned to reach past the front seats to grab the radio out of its cradle on the console, keying in the channel in preparation to transmit.

“Stop, please Tamara!” Harper cried, desperately grabbing at Tamara’s wrist as she prepared to make the call, “We can just kick the girl out the back. Drop her on the roadside and do the same with the other prisoners. Maybe then he’ll leave us alone—”

SMACK!

Tamara backhanded the athletic blonde Mammazon away from her. Sending the large woman sprawling into the back corner of the confined space in a tumble of limbs and loose gear. Her panic was unacceptable and worse… it was getting to Tamara as well.

“Shut up and know your place, you muscle-brained bimbo!” She shrieked, angry spittle flying from her lips “We serve our Mistress and we will do as we were told!”

She could hear the brittle edge of her own voice as she spotted Lindsay’s expression of wide-eyed shock in the rear-vision mirror. Harper didn’t fight back or even try to get back up. Instead she just curled up and started to softly sob.

“You didn’t have to face him like I did, so close that he had his hands on meee~ you don’t understaaand!” She wailed.

Tamara felt disgusted at the pitiful display. From one of her own girls no less. It was too much and then that roped up, high school bitch giggled... Actually giggled. All airy and light, as though she was watching some delightful little comedy playing out on stage in front of her.

Tamara whirled in fury and raised her heavy fist ready to beat the bound prisoner to within an inch-

“Alpha Leader, what is your situation? Over.”

The massive brunette enforcer froze as the soft but insistent voice chimed lyrically through the crackling radio in her other hand.

Her eyes bulged in a combination of both rage and fear. Her long muscular arm frozen high in midair began trembling. Time to face the music... she slowly lifted the radio to suddenly dry lips watching the smug expression on her captives face the whole time.

“Returning to HQ as we speak, Ma’am,” She croaked out before clearing her voice and putting a bit more firmness back into it, “We have three prisoners, all female with two uninfected teenagers and one possibly carrying a new strain of the XXX-infection. Two males were spotted but are yet unsecured. There were... complications, Ma’am. Over.”

The long pause that followed was filled with the hiss of static and gut-churning anxiety on Tamara’s end.

When the answer did come it was decidedly cool and filled with so much haughty disapproval that Tamara’s knees nearly buckled in dismay. Even across a stuttering radio link Sierra Monroe could tongue lash her with all the force of a nearly physical bull-whip.

“These are hardly the results I expected of you, Tamara. Perhaps I was mistaken to place so much trust in you if two simple, little males can evade you and seven of your much vaunted Mammazons. Have I not given you all you required and more? The finest quality equipment available. Teams of highly trained personnel. A steady diet of the potent high quality seed and yet, you still allowed two stray curs to escape you? This is unacceptable—“

Each word was articulated with deepest loathing. Punctuated with sneering disgust and even over the distance it clawed at the mighty brunette’s very soul. Lindsay in the driver’s seat actually started to weep silently.

“Mistress please...” Tamara begged, forgetting all radio discipline and dropping the professional affectation to call Sierra what she really was. “Mistress, we tried but these—these males are different! They’re infected… actual male XXX-infected!”

The line crackled quietly for another long painful moment before the reply came, cold and steely but no longer mocking.

“Alpha and Beta Squads return to base for debriefing. Once we have confirmed your sightings, we can confer on how to proceed from there. Over and out.”

Tamara’s shoulders sagged in relief. If she survived the debriefing in one piece then her Mistress would be able to take care of everything. CEO Sierra Monroe of Albion Aromatics Pty Ltd would certainly come up with a workable plan... it was what she did better than anyone.

Letting out a deep shuddering breath of relief she let her eyes fall back to the captive still held fast within the nylon cord webbing. The stacked young blonde just beamed beatifically back at her before she mouthed five words clear enough for a blind man to have read on her smirking cherry lips.

He.

Will.

Come.

For.

Me.

Tamara trembled under the weight of the young bimbo’s dreadful promise.