The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Manx was being followed.

She wasn’t quite sure when she’d picked up a snoop, but her highly trained senses knew she was being watched, and tracked. Impressive, considering that she was operating in nearly pitch black darkness, having made her way up to the upper floors of the building, past the inept night guards, and into the electronics area housing the main servers. Aside from the dim glow from the red LED ‘ON’ lights, the room was sheer darkness. Yet, with her catlike night vision, she could discern clearly her surroundings, making it easy to maneuver through the veritable jungle of cords, wires, and cables.

Whoever was following her wasn’t nearly as silent.

Oh, to be fair, they were being as quiet as the proverbial mouse. Had her own highly tuned senses been less than impeccable, had she not been truly in her element, she would have certainly missed the soft padded footfalls sounding quietly several yards behind her. Ah, but quiet wasn’t silent, and her clever ears alerted her to the intruder almost immediately.

It’s obviously one of those goddamn cape wearing wanna-be heroes again, she growled silently. A security guard would have simply burst in, flipped on the lights, and pulled his weapon by now.

The thought made her scowl in frustration. She’d planned everything about this heist so perfectly, and yet it was once again, about to fail due to an untimely interruption! Well... perhaps now, she thought to herself, as an idea slowly formed in her head. Whoever this is, they’re taking their own sweet time coming after me... trying to take me by surprise. Maybe I can use this to my advantage... and surprise THEM instead. She smiled beneath her cat mask. A game of cat and mouse was exactly right up her alley.

Further back, Red Rocket scowled to herself, forcing herself to stay calm and composed. Her plan was not going as she’d hoped. The idea had been to sneak up on the wily neko and catch her unaware as she attempted to hijack the data from the servers, her attention focused on her work. As it stood, the catburglar seemed content to wander around the server room, seemingly unsure about which server to link to. Worse, the room itself was completely dark, with just a few red LED’s showing here and there to break up the endless black. Even with the readings from her high tech goggles, it was tough keeping up with her with so much electronic interference from all of the servers.

Wait... where did she go? she thought, freezing in place. Shit! I can’t see her! She scowled, debating on whether to charge in, find and confront her directly, or whether to keep going stealthily, to keep from alerting her target to her presence. No... need to keep my cool. Until I know she’s aware of me, I’ll keep doing stealth.

Continuing on, she paused again, frowning as she peered carefully around behind a server rack, spotting what appeared to be Manx, bent over, peering down at a server on the lower tier. The urge to step in surged within her, but her instincts told her to wait, to be sure. Manx was a low-level villainess, not very powerful or dangerous, but she WAS very smart and clever. It’s a mistake to underestimate her, she reminded herself. She’s taken down bigger heroes than me after all. This is why I spent all this time preparing for this. No... play it safe, Beth. Opening a small pouch on her belt, she withdrew a small black orb and tossed it onto the floor just to the right of the kneeling figure. It made a small but noticeable clatter, rolling across the floor... but the kneeling figure didn’t react at all.

“Huh. Clever,” a familiar voice spoke from behind her, causing Red Rocket to freeze. “I actually expected you to take advantage of the obvious trap I set for you,” Manx replied, smirking as her adversary straightened up and turned to face her. “I have to admit, it wasn’t easy slipping out of sight and draping that cloak over a bundle of cords in a believable shape in such a small amount of time. It’s not as if I dragged a mannequin in here with me, after all.”

“Manx,” Rocket growled, reaching for her belt again, only to freeze as Manx held up a tazer. Sighing, she raised her hands. “Fine. You got the drop on me. So what? It’s not as if you can capitalize on it in here. Look around... this space is too confined for a fight. And if you actually use that thing in here, you have a good chance of shorting out the mainframe and losing whatever data you broke in here for.”

“Ah, Red Rocket,” Manx chuckled. “I thought I recognized that smarmy attitude of yours. Sorry, but its too dark in here to see clearly—one look at that hot sexy bod of yours and I’m sure I’d have recognized you instantly.” Her smiled increased as the angered heroine growled. “But... alas, you’re quite right. I can’t really use this in here,” she said, gesturing to her tazer... before flicking her free hand idly, hurling a handful of black powder into the surprised heroine’s face. “So I thought I use THIS instead!”

“Aaaahhh!” Rocket yelled out, staggering back a step, bending over, coughing fitfully for a moment. “Wh... what... what is that... what did you... did you...?” she began, weaving slightly in place.

Manx chuckled grandly. “Oh that? Just a little something I concocted for troublesome little girls like you. A bit of Orbweaver mixed with some Dust, and a few other chemicals picked up on the black market. I call it ‘Trance Powder’... just the thing to turn a proud, arrogant heroine into a submissive and obedient, little sextoy.”

Shuddering, Rocket slowly stood up straight. Slowly, she turned to face her new Mistress, staring her right in the face. Then, she raised a hand... and slowly the darkness of the room faded as Bethany’s light powers kicked it, illuminating the entire area. Manx’ smug smile faded, turning to confusion... then to fear as the light illuminated her target’s face. And the obvious breathing mask she was wearing over her mouth and nose.

“Nice try, Manx,” Rocket said with glee, pulling out a pair of reinforced handcuffs with one hand, her trusty stun baton with the other. “Unfortunately for you, I came prepared. I’ve dealt with your little gas and drug act before, and I’m not falling for it again. Give it up... you’ve lost.”

Manx scowled back at her. “Hmph. Well, aren’t you clever? But let me throw your own words back at you. You have the drop on me, hero. But now what? That stun baton you’re holding isn’t very practical in this space with all these expensive computers. One wrong move and BZZZZT! You’re looking at millions and millions of dollars worth of damage.” She chuckled ruefully. “So... what now? Looks like we’re in a standoff. I can’t take you out with my stash, and you can’t take me out with your baton. And neither of us can really fight in these cramped quarters, anyway.”

Rocket sighed inwardly. Much as she hated to admit it, the bitch had a point. Most of the arsenal in her utility belt was made to disable and take down powerful opponents. Her gear would indeed easily disable even the nimble, quick witted thief, but the potential damage they would cause to the Awada Financial Group’s mainframe would be disastrous. “Fine,” Rocket replied tersely. “Then let’s take this outside,” she said, gesturing to the door behind her, the only way in or out of the room. “We can settle this somewhere a bit less fragile and with more space.”

Manx nodded. “That actually sounds like a wonderful idea to me,” she agreed, “and after I beat you to a pulp, I can come back in here and grab what I came for.”

Bethany laughed aloud. “In your dreams,” she said, backing up slowly, keeping Manx in full sight. “Just keep it coming, nice and slow. And no tricks,” she warned, gesturing again with her baton. Manx said nothing, keeping her distance until they reached the exit. She simply nodded as Rocket, still watching her carefully, slid a hand behind her, reaching for the doorknob.

Unable to find it, Bethany took a quick glance back, finding the knob and twisting it... only to whirl back around as, just as she’d known, Manx leapt towards her. “Fuck!” she grunted, raising her baton, clicking the mechanism. Bright sparks blazed from the end, but Manx had already closed the distance between them. With a confident smirk, she kicked, snapping Rocket’s arm back, sending her electric baton flying.

Flying backwards, over Manx’ head and directing into the central server rack.

With horror, both women watched helplessly as the charged baton flipped end over end before striking the metal rack. A visible surge of electricity discharged, running through the entire group of computer servers, each one exploding in a cascade of smoke and sparks. A loud alarm began blaring, and emergency lights flashed, signaling a catastrophic emergency with the system. Seconds later, a burst of white gas began to descend from the ceiling as the fire suppression system kicked in.

“Dammit! Shit!” Red Rocket yelled, opening the door and stumbling through as the gas enveloped them. Her breathing mask prevented her from choking or being asphyxiated, but could do nothing to help with the lack of visibility. Stumbling back, waving her arms to clear the air, she glanced around, already knowing it was futile. Shit! SHIT! She’s gone! She fucking got away! Again! she growled in frustration. Sighing deeply, she glanced over at the sound of approaching footsteps. Dammit... the Awada Group is going to be royally pissed about losing their servers. I hope they were smart enough to do what Dad does and have their data sent to a backup site, just in case. Sighing heavily, she turned and headed towards the window. I hate to just leave this mess for those guards to straighten out, but my being here would just complicate things. If I’d captured Manx, that would be one thing, but trying to explain that she caused the meltdown and then managed to get away? No way they’d believe me. She shook her head, as she slid deftly out of the window, extending her cape to glide down to the street below.

Removing her mask, the plucky heroine sighed heavily. “You got away again, Cat Girl,” she grumbled angrily, slamming a fist against the side of the building. “But this isn’t over! We’ll meet again. And I will catch you eventually!” Scowling, she sprinted down the street, heading to her motorcycle, preparing to dart off before the police arrived.

Atop an adjacent roof, the aforementioned Manx stood watching her adversary, thinking much the same thing. Huh. Damned bitch! Your interference cost me another well-planned and pretty hefty payday. A million dollars, all up in smoke! She growled, ears flat against her head, claws outstretched in her fury. That is it! I have had it! I am tired of being every so-called hero’s punching bag! I have been fucked over for the absolute last time! Her fury and anger coalesced, turning ice cold as a new resolved formed. I think it’s about time that I quit playing with them and got my revenge on all the bitches that have screwed me over, she mused, watching as Red Rocket donned her bike, driving off. And I think I’ll be starting with you...

The most amazing scent lulled Sabrina from her slumber, causing her eyes to open. Yawning, stretching, she slid out of the rather comfortable bed, her bare feet hitting the plush warm comforting carpeting. Glancing around, she took a moment to check out her surroundings. Tired the night before, she’d barely given the decor a second glance, simply indulging in a relaxing, muscle soothing shower before all but collapsing into bed once she was done. Awake now, she couldn’t help but admire the decor, the decidely ‘girly’ room having the usual assortment of wall posters, and teddy bears scattered about tastefully. She chuckled at that, wondering idly if she’d slept in Katie Frasier’s old room.

Hmm. Definitely a possibility. The old man said I was staying in a ‘guest room’, but its possible he repurposed his kids’ rooms after they moved out.

Padding naked across the room to the adjoined bathroom, she took another quick shower, then emerged, feeling refreshed and ready for the day. Back in the bedroom again, she glanced at the clothing Frasier had provided for her, casual wear in her size he’d picked up from the store before arranging her release. She was somewhat impressed, the clothes were tasteful and definitely her style, though she wondered if perhaps he had his wife or maid shop for him instead.

Picking out a dark purple blouse and black, denim shorts, Sabrina paused, considering. Huh. Well, I might as well try it out after going through all the trouble of getting it done, she reasoned. Closing her eyes, she focused, and concentrated, just as Eugene had instructed her. A brief flash of light enveloped her body, and when it faded, she stood fully dressed, clad in her Neuroweave training outfit, complete with socks and shoes. Hey! Not bad. That’s really fucking cool! Not to mention it must save a buttload of time getting dressed or changing into costume during an emergency.

Sabrina was quite familiar with how the Neuroweave functioned. She had made the unfortunate mistake of asking Eugene how he’d come up with the idea, and the old Scotsman had launched into am expansive story on how he created it, how it worked, and what limitations it had. “Back when I was a wee lad, I used to watch the old Wonder Woman TV show, with Lynda Carter. Ah, now there was a bonnie lass if ever there was one! I was always fascinated about how she’d change from her civilian persona of Diana Prince to Wonder Woman, just by extending her arms and spinning around. Every time, she would spin, there’d be a brief flash of light, with music playing in the background, and POOF! The light faded and she was dressed as Wonder Woman, complete with tiara, boots, and lasso!”

He’d gone off on a tangent there, and Sabrina had been hard pressed not to yawn in boredom as he waxed poetic about this old TV show. Still, the concept was interesting, Basically, the Neuroweave costume itself was bonded to the wearer’s skin and linked to their nervous system, able to shift its molecular density, moving from its normal dense state to am intangible state of hyper excited electrons, and back again with just a thought. A very specific electrical impulse from the person’s brain literally turned it off and on. More incredible, Frasier had managed to tune the process in a way that activating the Neuroweave in turn hyperexcited the molecules of whatever clothing the person was already wearing, negating the need to strip out of their regular clothes before donning the costume. Sabrina was smart, brilliant in many ways, with a very high IQ... but even she couldn’t begin to understand all the technical specifics on how it worked.

Regardless of the HOW, the fact that it DID work was all that really mattered. Satisfied with how she looked, Sabrina made her way out of the bedroom, and downstairs to the kitchen. The cook responsible for the delicious aromas that had drew her from sleep glanced up as she approached, smiling. “Good morning. I hope you’re hungry. I’ve prepared quite a spread for your breakfast this morning.”

“Um, hi,” she replied, peering at the woman as her memory rewound, identifying her face. The woman was Latina, with long black hair, red pouty lips, and was dressed provactively in a very tight, form fitting maid outfit, complete with bonnet. “Wait... you’re... the chauffer? You drove us home yesterday day, right?” The woman chuckled at that.

“Chauffer, secretary, maid, and cook,” the woman clarified with a slight bow. “And anything else the Master needs me to be.” Sabrina’s eyes widened as she put together the clues.

“You’re... Serpentina!” she exclaimed. “You’re that criminal that Frasier brainwashed into becoming his slave!” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “And... he has you making breakfast?”

“It’s Christina, actually,” she clarified, the smile fading slightly. “Serpentina is not who I am anymore. And yes, I’m making breakfast.” Her smile returned. “It’s actually kind of funny. I was never really a good cook, or much for.... domestic skills. But, well, I suppose its a question of motivation. When disobedience is no longer an option, it’s not hard to put your heart and soul into a task.” She shrugged, turning back to the stove briefly, before walking to the table, laying out a platter of freshly made scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, and blueberry pancakes in front of Sabrina. “We also have oatmeal, or cereal, if you prefer,” she added, gesturing to the shelf next to the refrigerator. Sighing softly, Sabrina sat down at the table, and filled her plate.

“Mmmm... oh fuck this is good,” she murmured, taking a bite. “I don’t know if its the fact that I haven’t really eaten solid food for the past four years, or you’re a really good cook, but this is the absolute best food I’ve ever eaten!”

Christina chuckled, blushing lightly. “I shall take it as a compliment. Please, enjoy,” she said, bringing over a mug of fresh coffee as well as a glass of orange juice, placing them at Sabrina’s side. Finished with her duties, she walked back to the stove and began stacking up the dishes, loading them into the sink.

“Aren’t you going to join me?” Sabrina asked. “You made all this food—surely you’re going to have some of it, too?”

“No, no, I’m fine for now,” Christina assured her, filling the sink with water. “Besides, Master should be arriving soon to dine as well. I can eat once everyone else has finished.”

Sabrina frowned at that. “I see. The great and powerful Master doesn’t allow his slaves to eat with him?”

“What? No! NO! It’s not that at all!” Christina said quickly, glancing back at Sabrina in alarm. “If anything, it’s my own preference to be... separated from everyone else. If anything, Master Eugene has been trying to include me in regular activities, to my own chagrin.” She sighed, shaking her head. “It is... uncomfortable,” she admitted, turning back to the sink again. “My situation is complicated. I’m not sure if you are entirely aware of how I came to be Master’s servant...”

“Yeah, I heard,” Sabrina replied blandly. “You kidnapped his son and tried to kill his friend Nigel Grimalde, so he sent his covert ops team to rescue his son and take you down. And since you were such a threat, he decided to turn you into his obedient slave instead of turning you into the police.”

Christina glanced at her sidelong. “I take it from your tone that you don’t approve?” she asked. Sabrina shrugged.

“I accept that he felt like it was the best option,” she replied, “but it still seems a bit hypocritical to me. I mean, his whole issue with ME was that I enslaved his wife and daughter and some other Supers against their will, even though I treated them all with love and affection. Yet, he does the same thing, brainwashing you against YOUR will, and making you his slave, and justifies it by saying ‘he had no choice’.”

Christina nodded silently for a moment, continuing to clear the dishes. Turning off the water, she turned back to her guest, and sat down across from her. “I can understand your feelings, Miss Cross,” she said slowly. “It does seem unfair. And, truly, if anyone should feel that way, it would be me.” She closed her eyes briefly. “Let me tell you about the kidnapping. Jimmy Frasier was a pretty good sized man, about 6′1, three hundred pounds of pure muscle. Nearly as powerful as his mother, Omega Girl.” She opened her eyes, staring directly at Sabrina. “He disrespected me, sent me to jail, which I promptly escaped from. In retaliation, I sent my deadliest, most powerful assassins to ambush him and his girlfriend, captured him, and locked him away in my dungeon where I spent three months torturing him. I stripped him of his power, and his will, leaving him completely helpless. I kept him half-starved, fed him literally nothing but bread and water, physically beat him, and emotionally dominated him, all in an attempt to break him and shatter his sanity.”

Sabrina blinked, jaw dropping at the casual and deadpan description, as if she were calmly discussing the weather instead of how she had attempted to destroy another human being in graphic detail. “Of course, while that was going on,” she continued calmly, “I was also engaged in a bit of a turf war with Master’s dear friend, Nigel Grimalde. Like young Jimmy, he has also dared to disrespect me. I hired an assassin to kill him, his wife, and his kids, all to send a message to everyone involved—not to fuck with Christina Montenegro!” She paused to let that sink in. “Yes. I fully intended to kill the man’s entire family, including his son and daughter, without any remorse or conscience.” She leant forward, which actually caused Sabrina to back away slightly. “So, just to clarify—Serpentina, the woman I used to be, had no conscience at all. She was as cold-blooded as her namesake, a snake, and just as heartless. Master brainwashed me and forced her to grow a conscience. She... became me. But let me be crystal clear. If she were here now, unbound, and free, she would take great delight in killing Master slowly and painfully... and you along with him.”

“ME? Wh... why? What did I do?”

Christina smiled sadly. “Nothing at all. That’s the point. The mere fact that you are here, that you’re associated with him, would be enough to earn her wrath. And yes, I know how powerful you are, how strong and durable and nearly invincible you are. But trust me... it wouldn’t matter. She would find a weak point, any weak point, and exploit it. She’d use your family, your... mother, if need be,” Sabrina’s expression hardened, “a relative, or lover… anyone you cared deeply for, and force you into a position of helplessness. And then... she would make you suffer—”

“ENOUGH!” a male voice cut in, causing both women to turn.

Eugene Fraiser sighed heavily, walking into the kitchen, taking a seat at the table. “I think she gets the point, lass. Any more, and the wee thing is liable to snap and leap across the table after ye.” Christina blinked, blushing, as she sat back in her chair.

“Forgive me,” she said quietly, staring down at her hands. “I was out of line. Please... pay no attention to my words...”

Sabrina merely nodded, continuing to eat in silence. The reality of the situation came back to her, and she recalled that the woman sitting across from her—the monster, she now realized, understanding fully what Eugene had meant—was fully leashed and helpless. Indeed, she had been seconds away from attacking the woman, possibly killing her with her bare hands, riled up by her words. If Frasier hadn’t shown up when he had... she mused silently, shaking her head. It didn’t bear thinking about.

“Mmmm... verra nice,” Gene commented, gesturing with his fork. “Another fine repast. Ye’ve outdone yerself again, Christina, lass.”

“Thank you, Master,” the maid replied, a small smile on her lips.

“So... of course, yer free to join in as well,” he added, eyebrow raised.

“Ah... no, thank you, Sir,” she replied, glancing away. “I... am not hungry just yet. Besides, I made plenty. Please, eat your fill, and I will eat when my stomach settles.”

Sighing, Eugene let the matter drop. “So, lass,” he said, turning to Sabrina, “did you sleep well last night? I know it’s an unfamiliar setting and all, but I hope ye were able to get some rest after all the exercise I put ye through the other day.”

“Oh? Yeah, thanks, I slept like a rock,” she stated, sighing in contentment as she finished cleaning her plate. “Frankly, you run quite a nice ‘bed and breakfast’ here, old man. If you ever decide to retire from the hero thing, you could probably make a fortune turning this place into a hotel.”

Eugene chuckled at that. “Well, I already have a fortune,” he quipped, “and technically, I am retired,” he stated, “serving more as an advisor of sorts than an actual hero these days. Speaking of which, I hope yer prepared for another long day of testing, lass. I figure a few non-evasive scans of yer brain to provide a baseline reading, and we can start working on training you in fully controlling your powers.”

Sabrina sighed. “Yeah... that sounds good. I’m actually kind of excited about starting some real training. But, first things first. You said you would explain what’s happening with my mom today,” she reminded him. “And you promised to explain who this Ana person was, and why she’s been basically babysitting my mother for the past four years.” She pushed her empty plate aside, crossing her arms. “Well, I’m ready to hear the explanation.”

Eugene sighed heavily. “Aye... I truly hope ye ARE ready,” he murmured softly. “As I said last night, the situation is... complicated. Not just about Morgan, but about Ana as well.”

“Well, then uncomplicate it,” Sabrina snapped. “Tell me what is happening with my mom! And who the HELL is this Ana person you have looking after her?” She scowled. “What’s the big secret, anyway?”

“It’s no secret,” a very familiar voice spoke from behind, causing Sabrina to freeze solid. Eyes wide, she stared in shock as a scantily clad Eva Snow sauntered into the kitchen, wearing only a brief white translucent shift and bedroom slippers. Leaning forward, she gave Eugene a long, deep, soul-searing kiss, then sat down next to him. “Hello, Sabrina. It’s good to see you again.”

Sabrina’s mouth opened and closed a few times in shock. “E... Eva... it’s you...”

“Yes, it’s me,” she said with a nod. “And since Master Eugene didn’t bother to explain yet, allow me. Ana, the woman staying with your mom? She’s my twin sister.”

“She’s been released?!? Really?” Morgan Cross asked, holding her cell phone in disbelief. “You... you’re not joking? Please, please tell me you’re serious, and my daughter has been released from prison.” She listened, then nodded, a wide smile on her face as tears began to stream unrestrained down her cheeks. “Oh... oh thank you, thank you very much!” she said, turning to her friend, Ana, who stood by smiling as well. “Thank you for letting me know! Yes... yes, I will. Thank you, Warden. Goodbye!”

“So, I take it that was good new—oooohhh!” Ana began, only to gasp as Morgan crushed her into a massive hug. “Hey, now, relax, sweetie,” she said, hugging back, reaching up to gently wipe the lovely woman’s cheeks. “I told you to have faith. I knew it would all work out.”

“Yeah, you certainly did,” Morgan murmured softly, clutching her dearly as her body let loose all the tension that had held her captive for so long. For the first time in four years, she felt as if a massive weight had been lifted from her shoulders. “I can’t believe it. It’s over! It’s finally over. Sabrina is coming back home to me again!”

“Yes,” Ana replied softly as well, drawing back. A pang of guilt struck her, happy for her friend, but sad for how much of what had happened she’d had to withhold from her. “Did the Warden give you the details about when she will be released?”

Morgan’s smile faded a bit. “Yes, actually,” she replied, “he did. He said that she’d actually been released last night, into the care of Eugene Frasier...” Her frown deepened as Ana winced slightly. “Wait... wait a second. Did you... did you know about this?” she asked, slowly. “After we got back last night, you insisted that we turn in early... that ‘tomorrow would be a busy day and we’d need our energy’. Did you get a call from someone last night and not tell me?”

Ana sighed softly. “Not a call... exactly,” she said, glancing away. “More like a psychic message from my sister. But I didn’t want to wake you up just to tell you when there wasn’t anything we could do about it in the middle of the night anyway—”

“That wasn’t your call to make, Ana!” Morgan yelled. “Dammit, this is my DAUGHTER! Do you know how long I’ve been working to get her out of that fucking hellhole? How much I suffered worrying about her safety, how many sleepless nights I spent trying to find a way to help her?!?”

“Yes, I do know,” Ana replied back calmly. “I’ve been with you this entire time, remember?”

“Then why the HELL didn’t you tell me as soon as you knew?!?” Morgan demanded.

“Because... because you would have insisted we go straight over there to see her,” Ana replied softly. “And you weren’t ready for that, yet... neither of you.”

Morgan scowled, then blinked, shaking her head. “Stop that! Stop... grrr... using your powers to calm me down! I want to be angry right now, dammit!” Sighing, feeling the anger literally taken from her, she sat down on the couch. “Look, Ana, I appreciate you looking after me, I really do. I know you’re only doing what you think is best. But you had NO RIGHT to keep this from me! You should have told me as soon as you knew.”

Ana sighed, moving to sit next to her. “You’re right. And, I’m sorry. And we can go and see your daughter right now if you want. They’re all awake and eating breakfast right now,” she added, her expression pinched in a way Morgan had come to know as her using her psychic abilities. “I just... want you to be prepared for what you’re going to experience.”

Morgan frowned, looking at her strangely. “What do you mean by... ‘experience’?”

“Morgan,” Ana said softly, finally looking her square in the eye. “I know about the dreams.”

The dark haired lawyer froze, eyes widening. “Th... the dreams? I... I don’t kn-know what you m-mean,” she stammered nervously, only to relax again as Ana took her hands into her own.

“You know exactly what I’m referring to. I know what has been tormenting you these past years. And, I’ve tried my best to shield you as much as I could... to repress those... feelings,” she said awkwardly. “But I’m afraid seeing her in person again, being able to touch and hold her, will bring it all back.” She groaned inwardly, not sure if this was the best thing or not, but knowing she had no choice. “Morgan... seeing Sabrina will very likely shatter the block on your memory of everything that happened to you four years ago.”

Morgan blinked. “So? You’re saying that like its a bad thing! I WANT to know what happened back then! It’s all been nothing morethan a hazy half-remembered mess inside my head...” she said, tapering off.

Ana sighed deeply, lowering her head. “I know, sweetie. I do. And I’m sorry, so very sorry, that I had to keep things from you. But believe me when I say its because I care about you. And I don’t want you to get hurt.” She shook her head. “I’m... afraid, Morgan. I’m afraid that knowing the truth before you’re ready will destroy you. And... I don’t want to lose you.”

She lifted her head then. and Morgan gasped in surprise. Despite her calm tone, Ana’s face was wet with tears. She was crying, sobbing silently... for her. Shame flooded Morgan at the thought that she’d mistrusted this woman, had yelled at her, accused her of betraying her. Ana Albinn had been there with her from day one. She’d been nothing but supportive. Yes, she’d hid things from her... but it had been to protect her. And even now, as much as she’d hurt her, Ana was STILL trying to protect her, still refusing to lash out or fight the way Morgan herself had, simply taking it all in with quiet repose.

“Ana... oh god... I’m, I’m sorry,” she said, breaking down, her own tears beginning to flow. “I didn’t mean to... what I said... I know you were...” Warm caring arms enveloped her, and Morgan sank into them gratefully, hugging back fiercely. The two women simply held one another, crying out their pain, their sadness, and frustration. When the tears finally stopped, Morgan drew back, peering into Ana’s deep soulful blue eyes. “Ana,” she said softly, her lip trembling, even as her words failed her. How could she possibly apologize? How could she verbalize how deeply she cared for her, appreciated her, needed her... how could she possibly let the beautiful young woman know how much a part of her heart she was?

Smiling sadly, Ana reached up, gently brushing away the tears from her cheeks. “Morgan,” she began softly. “I am sorry that I hurt you. It was never my intention. Please. You have to under—mmmpph!!” Sapphire eyes widened as Morgan suddenly moved in, kissing her deeply, softly, tenderly. The kiss lasted just a moment, barely long enough for Ana to register it had happened at all. And yet... for the empath, that one kiss had relayed the depth of the other woman’s feelings... a wealth of want and need and simple pure love that she was helpless to resist. Reaching out, she pulled Morgan back to her, kissing her back, her resolve and restraint broken, letting her passion and desire show freely. Morgan gasped in surprise, before melting into her, returning her feelings and more.

Kissing devolved into passionate moaning, feverish caressing and kneading, their hands as hungry as their mouths, seeking to finally explore and devour every inch of the other’s very being. Coming up for air, they paused, both panting, staring wild eyed at each other. Ana gave the slightest bit of inquiry, wordlessly asking, if she was sure this was what she wanted. Morgan’s response was simply to rip her blouse open, showering them both with buttons as the popped off, before tossing it aside, reaching for her bra. Ana followed suit as well, though with a bit more regard for her clothing, tossing aside her shirt, and unzipping her slacks.

“Ooooohhh gaaawwddd,” Morgan moaned deeply, as Ana lifted them back up onto their feet, leading the dazed and horny brunette back to the bedroom, leaving a trail of clothing in their wake. Her body felt like it was on fire, burning with a scorching desire that threatened to consume her at any second. They were kissing constantly as they moved, neither wanting to lose the slightest bit of contact with the other’s skin. An expensive Tiffany lamp tumbled over and fell as they bumped into a table, completely ignored as they stumbled their way down the hall.

All the while, Morgan’s brain was running furiously, thoughts and feelings crashing together, even as her body moved on its own accord. Oh fuck, oh fuck... what am I doing? I’m... I’m going to fuck Ana... have been wanting this so long... so fucking long! she realized dimly as they entered the bedroom. She’s so beautiful, so very very... mmmmmm... gawd, but I’m... I’m straight, right? I’ve always been after boys before this... and yet, I can’t wait to taste her again... no... not again, for the first time... right? Her vision faded slightly, eyes glazing as a half recalled memory surfaced... in this very bedroom, licking, sucking, nibbling, fucking a beautiful naked blonde exactly like Ana, but with longer hair? The memory faded, replaced by reality, as Ana kissed her again, causing Morgan to shudder in pleasure, her clit buzzing with arousal.

For her part, Ana was relentless. She knew very well the confusion and anxiety plaguing Morgan, knew the flashbacks, and very likely, the desire she felt, were all from her Sister, from her times with Eva. But none of that mattered. SHE loved Morgan. She wanted her, desired, her, NEEDED her, just as much as the beautiful sexy brunette needed her. For four years she’d held back, restrained herself, kept her own feelings in check. She’d kept to her role as a friend, a supporter, a nurturer, a rock, a shoulder to cry on, as needed. But now... now, she needed comfort. She needed love. And her repressed feelings were being released, an unquenchable flood, and they would not be denied. And neither would she.

“Morgan,” she said, panting deeply, as they both slid up onto the bed. “I want you. I need you. And I intend to fuck you until you pass out cold from the sheer pleasure I intend to give you!” Tapping into her powers, she smiled slightly as Morgan gasped, finding her limbs stretching out, arms and legs moving spread-eagled. “All I need is for you to surrender to me... to trust me... and let me love you. Can you do that for me, baby?”

Wide eyed, panting just as deeply, Morgan nodded. “Yes, Ana,” she managed, heart racing in anticipation, “I trust you. Please... take me. Dominate me. Fuck me into oblivion! Make me yours, Mistress!” she gushed, the words coming naturally, without thought. Ana smiled, moaning deeply in appreciation.

“All that and more, my love,” Ana murmured, reaching into Morgan’s mind, linking them together psychically, before moving down to peer at the brunette’s sweet open pussy, wet and waiting. “Now... let me take you to Nirvana,” she husked, before diving in and doing exactly that...

Bethany Van Hoffe let out a soft sigh as she rolled over in her bed. The penthouse apartment that she kept while doing her college studies was on a corner facing east, unlike her room at her father’s condo, and the morning sun shining through the crack in the curtains always seemed to catch her directly in the face, despite her best efforts. She groaned aloud, pulling the pillow over her head, trying desperately to remain asleep a bit longer. Spending her nights as a costumed crime fighter had left her with little affinity for sunrise; she was lucky to leave her bed before noon most days. Luckily, she’d arranged to have mostly afternoon and evening classes this semester, to which she was eternally grateful.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” a cheerful female voice called out, causing her to sit up in the bed in surprise. “Not much of a morning person, are you?”

“Wha... WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU!!” Bethany screamed, covering herself up with a sheet, glaring daggers at the stranger sitting comfortably in her desk chair, smirking at her. “And what the HELL are you doing in my bedroom?!?”

The woman grinned a Cheshire cat style grin. “My my, you’re really energetic for the first thing in the morning. I half expected you to be exhausted after all your ‘late night activities’.” Bethany stiffened, realizing the implications of that statement. Eyes narrowed, she peered closer at the intruder, only to gasp softly in recognition. “Ah, there it is,” Tabitha said, nodding slowly. “There’s the look I was waiting for. You know, Rocket, we’ve played out our little song and dance quite a few times now... sometimes you beat me, sometimes I beat you, we each go our separate ways, then meet and do the same dance again.” Quick as lightning, her smile turned to a scowl. “But last night, after you screwed me over... after you cost me a million dollar payday, I decided maybe it was time to flip the script. So, I followed you,” she said smirking, “tracking you all the way back to your home base.” She glanced around, whistling. “And quite a lovely place you have, by the way. You must be doing pretty well for yourself to afford an entire penthouse suite to yourself.”

Growling softly, forcing herself to calm down, Bethany assessed the situation. Her most bitter rival knew her address, her identity and face, if not her name. Worse, she’d literally caught her with her pants, and the rest of her clothing, down. The wily catburglar was unpredictable and vindictive, and without her gear, she was vulnerable to anything the sadistic vixen dared to try.

“What do you want, Manx?” she barked, refusing to show any fear.

Tabitha sighed, disappointed by her reaction. “Geez... after all the effort I put into setting up this whole surprise reveal, this is how you react?” She shook her head, reaching into her pocket. Bethany froze, wary of whatever was about to happen, which bought the smile back to Tabitha’s face. “Ah, just relax, kid. Just taking out a pen and notebook,” she stated, holding up the objects. “I wanted to be sure to take plenty of notes for the Q&A section of our conversation.”

“Q and A? I have nothing to talk to you about,” Bethany responded, frowning as she cautiously slid a hand back behind her, looking for the knife she kept behind the headboard of her bed, an emergency measure for the paranoid fear of one day waking up tied and bound to her own bed. “If you came here looking for information, I’m afraid you’re going to leave highly disappointed...”

“Looking for this?” Manx asked idly, holding up the serrated blade knife Bethany had been reaching for. “You’re a really hard sleeper, did you know that? I had time to leisurely search your little hideout here long before you woke.” She smirked at Bethany’s expression. “Well, truth be told, you had a little help. I did drug you while you were sleeping after all,” she added, holding up a small clear vial of liquid.

“You... you BITCH!” Bethany snarled, throwing off the covers.

“Uh uh uh,” Manx chided her, waving a finger in chastisement. “Stay right where you are, sweetie. We’re just having a nice little chat right now. It’s too soon for you to go flying off the handle.” Scowling, Bethany settled back down, leaning back into the bed, before blinking in surprise. She’d been set to charge at Manx, risk be damned, and take her chances at taking down her foe before she could unleash any other surprises. And yet, with a few simple words, she’d backed off and settled down...

Just as... Manx had... ordered her to. Shit.

“Oooh... there’s that look of recognition again,” Tabitha replied, grinning savagely. “Damn, I am REALLY starting to like that look! And yes, you guessed correctly. That drug I gave you while you were asleep did more than just knock you out. It made you very receptive and suggestible, during which time I whispered a few subtle commands into your sleeping mind... mainly that you would obey any direct commands I gave you without resistance or complaint.” She laughed at the stricken hero. “I’d say the messages were well received, wouldn’t you?”

Bethany grunted, helplessness washing through her like a wave. “You won’t get away with this,” she vowed, her frustration evident.

“Yes, well, we’ll see about that,” Manx replied dismissively, crossing her legs. “But for now, back to our Q&A. I have some questions for you, Red Rocket.... or should I say Bethany Van Hoffe,” causing the heroine to growl softly, “and I bet you’ll be just too happy... to tell me everything I want to know...”