The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Eh? An athletic field?” asked the Elf as the surroundings flickered.

“Yeah. I don’t want to flatten the school before I get my Master’s. And I put a lot of work into building most of that lab equipment.”

The glowing blue sabre swung at his head, then stopped, blocked by Ed’s own Kimberly-eye-green blade.

“I can do the glow-y sword thing too.” Steel blurred and clashed. It spun and came around again was repelled and then thwarted a riposte.

Looking at one another around their blades, the Elf spoke. “Where did you learn swordplay?”

“From you.”

“Ah. Sadly, knowledge,” clang, “does not equate to talent.” Swish. “The millennia of physical training and conditioning I have, you cannot yet match.”

“I can dream, though,” said Ed, fighting the urge to do something fancy and fatally stupid like juggle his sword. Sword fighting wasn’t all that different from dancing with Zofia, just a lot faster-paced and, god willing, the other party still got penetrated at the end.

“That you can,” his opponent said, noting Ed’s increased speed and muscular control. “No huge and grotesque bulk with which you can smite me?”

“Why bother when I can just do this?” Ed flicked his left hand index finger toward the Elf, and the resulting shockwave struck the Elf’s sword midway up the blade, blowing it into a cloud of razor-sharp shrapnel.

The shards flew back together as the Elf brought his restored sabre around to deflect Ed’s next stroke.

“As a warrior you make a fine jester. Burn!”

The light seared Ed’s eyes as the air around him burst into flame. Unharmed, but unable to see, he threw himself to his left and prayed he guessed correctly. The whoosh of air to his right answered the question, and Ed dreamed the fire away before the Elf could dream it back into being harmful.

“Played D&D, for a while last year until the DM killed three of my characters in one night.” Ed’s sword whipped up to parry a slash. “Doug was a complete bastard, but he taught me that, in the middle of a melee, someone will always toss a fireball.”

“That,” block, block, lunge, “is because they work and allies are expendable.”

“Sometimes,” chuckled Ed, taking a chance on a sweeping arc. A bad idea because the Elf got his blade into position so fast that it didn’t even look like it’d moved. “Sometimes you gotta think big!”

Ed hurled himself backwards as the Elf disappeared under a gigantic reptilian foot.

A loud “Skreeeee-Oooohnk!” roared across the campus and echoed back off the line of apartments that provided housing for the richer of the college’s students and Ed looked down into the crater after he’d whisked Godzilla away.

He blinked. “Elves are tougher bastards than D&D let on.”

From down at the bottom of the hole, the Elf looked up. It’s cat-like eyes flared as it leapt. “Yes, but we are also smart enough to avoid telegraphed attacks.”

“That red bear, Thlammon, fed me a lot of crap—”

“At that, there was none better,” said the Elf, interrupting with both words and a vicious cut.

“He said you ruled the earth ten thousand tears ago.”

Fwiff! “He exaggerated. It was closer to eight and a half.”

“And that you were erased by the gods. Ow! Fuck.”

The Elf grinned at having drawn first blood and silently kept up its attack.

“Something must have been left behind,” Ed said. “They couldn’t have gotten everything.”

“They are gods. But, in truth, they left bits and pieces. Some fugitive Elves held on, but were hunted to extinction by various priesthoods over the years. My daughter was among the last of the free, but finally I traded my assistance to Thlammon for his bringing my daughter here for safe keeping.”

“Assistance, my ass. I saw how that turned out.” The sound of their battle rung off the trees and buildings around the field as they traded wary blows careful to never leave an opening. They casually passed up on opportunities for an easy win because it often turned out, on the second glance, to be an easy loss instead.

“Of our great and glorious works, however, he speaks the truth. All of our cities, our culture and art were ground into sands of Persia and Egypt. All our advancements obliterated and the bulk of my people moved to otherworldly reservations to free up the land for the coming humans. The rest were taken by the flood and even the flood was covered up in the end.”

“Why?”

“The gods wanted a fresh start with you, their new toys. Eventually, they will grow tired of you and your fate will be as ours was. Mark my words, one day they will do the same to you unless we prepare and best them.”

And there he is, thought Audrey, looking at Paul flirting with one of the other nurses—Carrie the stick-girl.

He doesn’t look like much, replied a haughty and rebellious internal voice. This is the man for whom you pine away? I can do so much better!

He’s handsome and smart! What more could I want?

That man on the motor … cycle. He could entertain us for days before wearing out. Assuming, of course, that I don’t tire of him first.

Eeew. Too hairy.

“Hi, Carrie, Paul!” she chirped. More cheer was directed towards Paul, of course.

“Hey Audrey,” Paul replied. He nudged Carrie.

“Hello Audrey.”

Audrey glanced at Carrie and waved her away. “You are between me and what I want, willow-switch. You go … fuck yourself.”

Carrie recoiled, shocked or stunned, but took the offered exit, walking quickly and then running away. An attentive human could pick up the sudden flowering scent of feminine arousal, and normally an Elf wouldn’t have been able to miss it.

However, this Elf was in reduced circumstances until her host could be fully transformed. On the other hand, this Elf knew exactly what was going on inside the student nurse’s body and mind, so she didn’t mind the loss. Much. Things would be so much better once she solidified her hold on the mortal and began the reshaping. The over-sized milk-producers were just too disbalancing—even though her father, like all males, liked them that way.

“I like this new language. It’s so vulgar,” said the Elf in Audrey’s body. She looked Paul over up close. She lingered on the name tag.

“Audrey? Wha—”

“Doctor. A noble title. It is time for a lesson in humility, mortal. Follow.” She gestured at Paul and started to walk to a quiet place. Paul stagger-stepped behind her, marching reluctantly.

That wasn’t so had, Audrey thought, grabbing Paul’s hand and pulling him into a quiet hallway. I should have come on strong sooner.

“You know, Paul, I think you went to medical school because you’ve got a fixation on nurses. Why didn’t we ever hook up?”

He looked funny. Like something important was just out of the reach of his mind or he was dizzy. “Same reason I never hooked up with Sophie,” Paul said slowly. “You aren’t my type, Audrey.”

“Oh?” She locked his eyes with hers. “And what’s wrong with my type?”

Paul squirmed as though trying to look away, but seemed unable to break her fierce, cat-like stare. “T-too big. Like small. S-slight. Like Carrie.”

Audrey pictured her fellow student-nurse. “Oh. Waifs. You like waifs,” she said disappointedly. Then she smiled. She stood taller, her pupils contracted into vertical slits, and amber light flashed.

Paul moaned pathetically as Audrey’s eyes glowed. A sweet smell wafted into the air as she placed her hands on his shoulders and leaned in close. The light from the glowing eyes focussed into coruscating beams burrowing down his optic nerves and into his brain. He shook softly.

“Times have changed, but some things remain constant: All … guys like breasts. You’ve been hiding your natural inclinations, haven’t you? Paul?”

Without breaking the rippling connection, he nodded.

“I know you didn’t want look like another low-browed chauvinist, but you can come clean now. You want me! You like my large, firm breasts. You lust after my titanic tits. You love my bountiful boobs, jiggly jugs, massive melons, heavy hooters, or whatever alliterative nonsense men are calling them these days. You love them, want them, you need them. They obsess you. A rack like mine just makes your cock burn with desire. You’ve been fighting long and hard, but you just can’t resist any more, can you? You have to touch my fun bags, lick my bazooms, caress my pleasure pillows.”

His head kept trying to look down at the new center of his existence, but her eyes wouldn’t let go. His face was slack, his eyes glazed, and he couldn’t seem to pant fast enough to keep from going completely red. He backed away.

“Give it up, Paul. You know you need it. You know I have it. Surrender to me. Be my toy. You mortals are so much more enthusiastic. So much more filled with fire … once inspired. The girl is correct, though. It will be much simpler to craft your body to my tastes than to increase the intelligence of some motorized barbarian. Do you play chess? Some intellectual stimulation will be required, along with the physical.”

Paul moaned pathetically and Audrey smiled softly, her eyes returning to normal. She shook her head to clear a strange fuzziness, and under her shirt, Paul’s whole world moved.

Holy shit, Ed did some really good work here. Paul looks like he’s going to cum in his pants. An evil thought hit her. “Hey Paul?”

His eyes bounced up to her face for a moment, but only a moment.

He’s drooling! Gross, but …, “How would you like it if I ….” She popped a button on her blouse and Paul’s body jerked. Another button and Paul pushed her against the wall, groping and squeezing.

It was reverent, not rough, and the hands were turning her on, big time. Tingling gave way to an electric sensation racing between her breasts. Her nipples almost instantly went rock-hard. She could feel them pressing into his palms and it felt, “Oooo, Fuuuhhhuuuck!”

Sophie said something about Ed and boobs. He makes them really sensitive. She writhed against the wall and her panties slid against warm flesh, slippery with the stuff dripping down her legs. Omigod! I’ve sprung a leak! This is exactly what I’ve been wanting from Paul. What set him off like this?

His hands left off her breasts for a moment to fight with a button and Audrey’s mind cleared enough to care where they were: An out of the way corridor, but still inside the hospital. “Paul!”

Then he tore her shirt open. Holy shit, Ed! You made me too beautiful! Mmmmm. Paul’s stronger than he looks!

“Paul!” she loudly whispered. “Not here!”

His lips closed on her left nipple and her mind shook. “Paaaaauuul!”

His pants were around his knees and she had no idea when she’d done that, but when he enthusiastically pawed her breasts, she figured it was only fair that she return the favour. So now her right hand encircled the stiff shaft of his cock and ….

It was kind of disappointing really. Sophie must have really just been after his money. Or maybe size really doesn’t matter. When’d he get naked? She felt a strange smile tug on her face and Paul’s nipple play fogged her thinking. The shadows jerked as though a flash had gone off and Paul’s hard cock jumped in her hand and began to soften.

Omigod. He’s not all that big and I just touched him and he came! Maybe he’s not such a good deal after all. He—

The train of thought went off the rails as she could feel the blood pumping in as Paul’s dick inexplicably began to gain in size. Inexplicable my ass! Ed must have done this somehow! The throbbing monster’s growth slowed and halted, once again becoming stiff as a board with its tip pressing into her belly. He didn’t cum! Ed doubled the size of his cock for me! Oh, God. Oh God! I almost want to suck it! What’s wrong with me?

Fighting off this strange new oral fixation, Audrey slipped back into the dazed bliss that came with fingers exploring her boobs and scarcely noticed as she was slowly stripped of her remaining clothes. In a hospital access corridor, she was about to have her first time with Paul and it felt just so right that she didn’t give it another thought as they worked their way down to the floor.

As Paul’s supernaturally swollen erection pressed against her dripping pussy, Audrey gasped as an undeniable need of her own flooded through her. “Ohhhh Paul! I feel like I haven’t had a guy for, like, a thousand years.”

She left teeth marks on his tightly-muscled shoulder trying to muffle her screams. Only they didn’t feel like they were just her screams. The rebellious new personality was having at least as much of a good time and kept making her do things—sick things that Audrey knew that she didn’t want to live without from now on.

Ed landed in a three point crouch in the middle of the football stadium and tried to catch his breath. No luck. The Elf was just too fast. And smart. Not wasting time with jumping around, he’d teleported. Bastard!

Ed vanished as his enemy’s sword pressed against the back of his shirt. “Anything you can do, I can do better,” said Ed, dropping into the bleachers. Too high. Better not make that mistake again, he could be waiting for me.

The Elf laughed. “I can do anything better than you.”

Ed popped out and back into space-time—dream-time, really—as a ball of fire shot toward him, melting the seats behind where he’d been standing and starting a small blaze in the remains. The Odds, he figured, are not in favour of the fireproof trick working twice. No more playing with fire.

Whether his assumption was right or wrong was moot, since he wasn’t on fire, but at when he tried to step into his swing, he found his feet stuck to the ground. The Elven emperor launched a counter-offensive, raining blows on the trapped human.

“Teleportation is a difficult trick to master, Ed.” Swish. “You forgot to count your shoes into the elevation.” Steel rung on steel as a slash at Ed’s knees was turned aside.

Transforming his sneakers to sandals Ed stepped free and regained his balance. His sword came around, but The Elf was gone and suddenly the air around him smelled funny and began to crackle. He earthed his sword and dropped to the ground. Channelled along the metal blade, the blue-white fire missed Ed, but the explosion of super-heated soil launched Ed and sent him spinning, fortunately not towards his foe.

Kicking back up onto his feet after rolling across the ground, Ed expected to find the Elf waiting over him, but instead Ed found himself on the run as lightning rained down on the field, detonating the goalposts before turning its attention onto the stands and blowing more burned holes in the turf.

“Random and crude,” said the Elf, appearing from nowhere and lashing out again with his sabre. “Lightening is best used on mobs, but one of those should have struck you down.”

“Maybe somebody’s looking out for me. Or maybe it’s just that I know how electricity works.” He faked a blow upwards and, not realizing Ed’s sword was now rubber, the Elf parried. And became a lightening rod.

“And knowing is half the battle,” quipped Ed, picking himself up from where the most recent explosion had tossed him. The Elf fell over, quite well done.

“Good aim,” gargled the blackened ruin as it stood back up. Flesh regenerated and the Elf laughed a sickening, damaged laugh. Then it’d healed enough to feel pain again and began screaming.

Ed watched, horrified. The emperor’s screams became more coherent as he reformed healthy skin instead of the charring. The nicks and scratches of near misses during their duel were gone. His clothes even repaired themselves. Everything except the cuts from Thlammon’s sneak attack.

Cold, black Iron, thought Ed. Son of a Bitch! Knowing is all of the battle! That wasn’t in D&D!

Cat’s eyes snapped back open and the blue sabre came back up. “You can’t win, Ed. Not against an immortal. Give up, join me and enjoy what span you have remaining. You were lucky with that bolt.”

“Lucky, my ass.” Ed lowered his sword and pulled Introductory Physics from the ether and held the book out as an offering. “That was physics. You should take a look at it some time. Really handy stuff.”

The Elf laughed again as nine hundred pages of angry text bared its fangs and leapt at him. His sword flashed, sinking deeply into the tome.

Though hastily thrown, Ed’s sword sailed true. The green hue faded mid-air and black like a fireplace poker, it sunk into the Elven Emperor’s chest.

The Elf spat up blood—red, not green like a Vulcan—and croaked out. “I still win. I always win.”

“Looks pretty conclusive in my favour from this end.”

It grabbed the sword and in a convulsive motion, wrenched the blade from its fatal sheathing. “That is because … you know nothing. What more could a parent want for their child than that which was denied them? Don’t worry. She will rule well. It is in … in her blood.”

And then the Elf crumbled and blew away, leaving no traces of its passing.

“You,” said Ed to the bear with the knife to Melissa’s throat, “buzz off.”

“Only lord Thlamm—” the bear managed to get out before vanishing with a pop.

“You OK, Melissa?” Ed asked, giving the girl a shake.

“Wha?” she mumbled. “Where’s Kelli? She was so …. Oh god is she …. I think I understand why Kelli and I always got along so well. She’d been there and gotten it worse than I’d ever imagined.”

“I’m keeping her locked up until I can figure out what to do with her.”

“Why? She’s harmless!”

“Oh yeah. Real harmless. She’s only tried to kill me twice.”

“Yeah, but she’ll be different now. I mean her dad just got …,” Melissa trailed off before rallying. “She is different now.”

“Yeah. She’s human now. Or human enough, I guess. I’ll think about it, but tonight I have to find the other Elf.”

“What? He burned Kelli’s dad to death and made her watch and there are more of those guys?”

“He said he had a daughter—”

“Great,” groaned Melissa. “Wonder what she’s like in bed. Wonder which of us is going to find out first. You look totally fuckable in a ripped shirt and pants, you know?”

“Can you please keep your mind on the problem? I need help here! You know these guys better than I do. Where would Thlammon have hidden an Elven princess?”

“Who cares? I’ve got problems of my own. My horny laboratory assistant has turned me into a sex-crazed nympho—now that is redundant—and it’s been at least half an hour since I last got any.

“How did you resist Kelli, anyway? I started gushing the moment I saw her and I’m a girl!”

“I couldn’t. She had me dead to rights. I would have done anything to have a shot at her, so I made her dreams come true: I wouldn’t lose it and take advantage of her.”

“She wanted it, Ed. I could see that.”

“No she didn’t. She was being played with. You should have seen her eyes.”

“Oh. So you’ll do your project lead, your students, your sister’s romantic rival, some fucking elf-bitch, but you draw the line at making fairy princesses fall madly in lust?” Melissa stopped for a moment, thought things through, and smiled. “More for me!”

Lounging on her side, her smile shifted from one of glee to invitation. Her eyes glistened. Melissa drew up one leg; bending it at the knee and sliding her sexy little toes along the inside of her calve. Her bare legs spread, revealing her hungry and drooling mound.

Covered with a countless small cuts and bruises, burned more than once, and not a little weary from the level of exertion that had been required to keep his head attached to his body, Ed still reacted predictably.

He pressed his lips into her right breast, encircled the expectant nipple and teased it for a moment before rolling Melissa over onto her back.

“Your turn to be on the bottom,” he told her.

After taking Melissa home and exhausting her enough to escape, Ed called Holly. Normally that wouldn’t be the best thing to do after screwing one girl into a near coma, but something had to be done about The Professor. After that was out of the way, he still had an Elf to track down. Melissa would have been his first choice on both accounts, but even after scaling back his partner’s libido to something close to it’s original level, she still wouldn’t stop trying to squeeze out one last fuck.

“I think I broke Melissa,” said Ed as they walked from the parking lot to the coffee shop. Holly drank too much coffee. I’ll have to take her to the pub later.

“Broke? How?”

“I put her back the way she was last week, but she’s still a nymphomaniac.”

“Did you fix her body so she wouldn’t go off like a rocket, or just her mind?”

“Uh, mostly just the mind.”

“Duh! No wonder! Talked with Ruby and Monica earlier and they were still pretty much out of it. The kind of pleasure you’re throwing around’s kind of addictive, you know.” Holly looked almost disappointed at being left out.

“Yeah, I know. I just … she was having so much fun.”

“Such a thing as too much fun, you know. You’re gonna have to be more careful when—”

Holly stopped dead, verbally and otherwise. “Holy cow! Ed! Please tell me you didn’t do that!”

Ed looked up across the campus at the smoky haze surrounding the stadium. At least the fires were out. “Not me. Or not much me. That was one of the things I wanted to talk about. You played a lot of D&D; what do you know about Elves?”

“Depends on what kind of Elves. I mean there’s Santa’s Elves and if you want evil Elves, forget D&D, you want Faerie Tale by Raymond Feist or ….” As Holly gabbed, they passed a stunned gathering of football players and cheerleaders looking at the blackened ruin of the stadium and the track field.

“Mustabin some party,” quipped one.

“Yeah,” said another, pointing at the mammoth footprint ruining the running track. “But what the fuck made that?”

Ed grinned. “Go, go Godzilla.”

The Professor tried to shake his head, but couldn’t. In front of him was a seventy inch plasma display rapidly flashing shifting colours. For a man with an intellect in the upper tenth of a percent of human thinking capability, his predicament was a no brainer.

“Oh for the love of Mike. This thing doesn’t work on me, fools, I’m red-green colour blind. Read the damn instructions!” The last thing he remembered was meeting the delectable Holly Vander Mullen in the parking lot as she’d been instructed, walking with her to the lab, opening up his pants and wondering why she just stood there, smiling impishly. It was a very erection-inducing smile, but not a literal knockout. Obviously the Liberals (The Communists were a done deal, but perhaps it was the Terrorists acting directly rather than using their weak-minded pawns) supplied the unconsciousness themselves. However, whoever his captors were they had no idea who they were messing with.

“I’ve taken that into account.”

“Ah.” It was just Ed. “Ed—”

“Just watch the screen, Professor. I’m told it’s very educational. Right, Holly?”

“Yup!” At the edge of his peripheral vision she smiled impishly and waved. “Never was all that interested in giving head before, that’s for sure.”

She moved out of sight and the sound of a zipper was followed by loud male and female moaning.

“You bitch! You’re supposed to be mine, not his!” Fighting against his bonds, The Professor continued shouting until his mind began to wander.

“Uh,” said Ed, looking for a good place to start. “First of all, she wasn’t really giving me a blowjob. We were just faking it to distract The Prof. Holly’s OK, isn’t she? It wasn’t her fault. I talked her into it.”

Three men and a woman made themselves comfortable around a table in an applied sciences building meeting room. Two of the men were obviously government issue and the other some sort of geekish playboy. The woman was young and hot—a little more up top and she’d be a real knockout. More G-men, probably including the bunch that grabbed him in the lab, were outside and he had no clue where Holly or The Professor were—not that he cared much about The Professor.

Dressed in dark blue, and without sunglasses, the first Fed was a bearish, older man. The second Fed was a living stereotype: All black, dark glasses, the earpiece, the folder, the works. He looked like he’d start quoting The Matrix at any moment. On the other side of the table sat the playboy. Clearly the tall, skinny man was a nerd like Ed, but a nerd dressed by a woman with excellent taste in clothes. Beside him, and not giving off any girlfriend vibe at all, the lone woman, a brunette in a slinky black dress, just looked at him, disinterested. Something about her set off air raid sirens in his deep memory.

The huge, bearded man spoke first and totally ignored Ed’s question and justifications. “My name is Julian Beresford; this is my partner Agent Norton.”

“If you’re partners, how come he’s an agent and you’re not?”

“There are no job titles that accurately describe what I do for a living,” he said tersely. “I understand you’ve made contact with the bears.”

That began an hour long, extremely circular and often antagonistic interview. They didn’t seem to believe or care at an Elf was going to take over the world any minute.

“So you expect us to believe that this was just a factional dispute by two groups of extra-dimensional entities and that the leadership of the malignant group was wiped out by a third party that you, in turn, killed in a gladiatorial bout fought in the football stadium.”

“Yeah, but most of the damage was caused by the Elf. Honest! It was self defence! The other Elf’s still out there—”

“At least it’s not the effing fruit again,” said Agent Norton. “I was worried, what with the breasts and all.”

“Fruit?” asked Ed, confused. “What fruit?”

“What are you leaving out, Ed?” Beresford demanded, fixing Ed with a stare.

“He’s the one responsible for the breasts,” said the brunette. “Or most of them. Those are people, Ed. Not more of your science experiments.”

“Hey! What are you—” Ed’s mouth stopped working.

“Shut up. You’re making me sick.” Doing her best to not look at Ed, she continued. “He turned some chick on a bus into a bimbo-slut, changed a bunch of girls he knows into bi-sexual nymphomaniacs—two of them his students. That’s abuse of authority, Ed. He even did his babysitter. You guys are all the same.

“Oh. This is different. He eliminated his sister’s top romantic rival by taking her dancing.” She paused for a moment. “Oh, that’s so sweet!”

Not sure if she was being sarcastic or not, Ed tried to defend himself. Nothing came out.

“I’m sure she just loves being your x-rated slut of a girlfriend,” resolved Ed’s suspicions.

“He made practically every woman he knows have huge boobs by warping their dreams into reality.” The telepath snorted. “And apparently mine aren’t big enough for the pig. And he thinks I’m a bitch. Doesn’t like being called Eddie—probably because the girl who broke his heart back in grade nine called him Eddie—whah, sniff. Tia’s been a done deal for, like, fifteen years. Get over her already.”

“Can we stay on topic?” prodded Agent Norton.

“Fine. He’s smart and at least knows that ethics exist, so he might be reconstructable.” She shrugged and then nodded. “Your call.”

The skinny man with the tasteful girlfriend—wife, judging by the ring—leaned across the table and offered a handshake. “Eddie. Pleased to meet you. I’m Freddie Campbell, You already—”

“Ed,” said Ed. “Wait …. You’re who?”

“Freddie Campbell. I built the original machine your project is based on, so I know some of what you’ve been going through. You already know Evelyn. How would you like a summer job?”

“Evelyn? Whoa! You’d vanished when I tried to call you back for more tests! Wait! What about The Professor and Holly?”

“We’re taking The Professor,” said Beresford. “I know exactly what The Prof was working on and I don’t like it much. Believe me, that stuff always finds a way to bite you in the ass, and that doesn’t even take the constitutional issues into account. I don’t mind what you’ve done to him, much, but you aren’t off the hook yet.”

“The machine’s nothing to worry about,” protested Ed. “The Professor says that the machine’s too slow to be of much use on a wide scale.”

“That’s not what I was—” Agent Beresford, or whatever he was, started before being cut off.

“Do you believe that, Ed?” asked an oddly accented voice from the end of the table. From the somewhat rotund shadow that hadn’t been there a moment ago. He spoke in English, but not American English. Not British or Canadian, either.

“Huh? No,” blurted Ed before stopping to think. “Er. Not really. The Professor’s a genius, but he’s thinking too small. Today it’s too slow, but once it’s been invented, hundreds and thousands of people will take a crack at it. Somebody’ll make it more efficient.”

“He is not thinking small,” said the shadow. “Don’t accuse him of that. He is thinking in an extremely narrow focus and from a position of too much assurance.”

“Right. I get you. He’s thinking everybody else is stupid and won’t be able to improve on his invention.”

“Precisely. A sad fate for a brilliant mind. A scientist must always be open to revision, for today’s certain truths are tomorrow’s laughable misunderstandings.”

“Hey,” said Ed. “You gotta start somewhere.”

“That you do. Yet a mental domination machine is a poor place to start.” The speaker leaned into the light. Though instantly recognizable, his face wasn’t one Ed had seen recently. It’d been a long time since he’d last had a hundred dollars in his bank account, let alone in his hands as a bill.

This was not strictly true, but the inaccuracy is forgivable. Ed hadn’t looked at his account since dreaming himself into Zofia’s rich boyfriend, and Zofia had her sights set quite high.

Trying not to wilt under the accusing stare of Doctor Benjamin Franklin, Ed stammered, “I got The Professor out of the way.”

“Clumsily and crudely,” countered Franklin. “A man of his stature and contacts does not simply disappear into a teaching position at a minor Canadian university. He would be quickly found and put back to work by those who seek to capitalize on the false security provided by his device.

“Yes, for some, the projector would provide a measure of temporary defence; inevitably, it would inflict slavery upon the majority. Only the wilfully blind would truly believe that an easy means of controlling minds would not eventually be turned on the masses to swing a vote, and from there, there would be no turning back.”

“‘Those who would trade their freedom for security deserve and shall have neither,’” Ed quoted mechanically. “That was you.”

“That wording sounds like it may have been mine. The origin of the quote is lost to me, however; perhaps it was Jefferson. I can’t remember who scribbled it onto paper first, but the notion was on our minds for a long time. Regardless of source, it is the truth.

“Your project plays right into that limited style of thinking about the natures of security and freedom. It is security, after a manner, but it is the security of the man with nothing left to lose. It is like a wolf. For a time, the animal is not eating you, and can seem quite friendly; however, it grows steadily hungrier. Eventually the morsels thrown to it are not enough, and thus freedom is devoured.

“Does this mean that certain freedoms, such as the exercising of powers much like yours, need be surrendered? Most certainly not! It means that those freedoms that may infringe upon the freedoms of others must be exercised with caution and due diligence. A great many problems of this nature can simply be eliminated by asking a simple question, ‘Would I like for this to happen to me?’ and honestly applying the resulting answer. Unfortunately the simple solution does not cover such thorny issues as, ‘Yes, I would most certainly enjoy it if that lovely lady threw my on a bed and made passionate, uninhibited love to me,’ and assuming that the converse is true. In all likelihood, it is not.

“We have a republic, Ed, not a true democracy. In a nation of three hundred million people spanning almost three and three quarter million square miles, democracy would be unworkable. Even in the much smaller days of the colonies, this was obvious, hence the election of representatives. Supporting and often policing these representatives, some amount of bureaucracy is required, but without constant and eternal vigilance, eventually the system evolves a breed for whom the system, or rather preservation of the system, is more important than those it purports to represent. Your machine in hands of the mountainous bureaucracy grown around the governance of the United States would be disaster, total and complete.

“Fear, and often ambition, causes the hierarch to put forth, over individuals of talent, prodigals, gamblers, and swindlers of every stripe that are seen as beneficial to the hierarchy, and damned be the people at the bottom. This trap afflicts the unwary because government, even one of the people, by the people, and for the people—to borrow the excellent words of Mr. Lincoln—ultimately leads away from the people and into the hands of aristocrats under whatever name they go as times and trends change ….

“This was intended as a dialogue Ed, but you have gone silent. Do feel free to speak up.”

“Debate the nature of freedom with one of the guys who wrote the Constitution?” Ed screwed up his face and continued in a raspy voice. “Ben Frankrin wins. Frawress victory!

“Besides, aren’t you dead?”

“As I said earlier, a scientist must be willing to adjust their beliefs and opinions as new facts come in. Do I look dead?”

“No, but you could be an actor.”

“Or a clone. Pod people are quite popular, under the correct circumstances. Yogi, you’ve quelled both of those threats in the past few months, have you not?”

Julian “Yogi” Beresford nodded and said, “Clones twice this year.”

“Ah yes,” Franklin said, thoughtfully. “One group was even so far behind the times that they attempted to take over America by replacing Bill Clinton, thus becoming proof that science, while useful, is not the be-all and end-all. Keeping a steady eye on history and politics is a must. Abstracting away one’s entire life in the pursuit of raw, untrammelled knowledge is a tragic misuse. A mind is a terrible thing to waste, but so too is a body. Locked in a laboratory, science may be learned, but the essentials of living required to apply said science in a safe and rational manner are not advanced.”

“In other words you’re saying I should get out more. And you completely evaded my question.”

“Precisely. I’d normally recommend finding a nice girl, but it seems that isn’t your problem. Quite the opposite, in fact. You have accumulated a goodly sum of nice girls. Finish your degree off, pick one of the ladies, and then I recommend traveling the world for a year or two. Start in Europe.”

“Why Europe?”

“Because, compared to the rest of the world right now, it’s relatively safe. You need to learn to walk before you go off running and certainly before you are thrown into harm’s way in defence of your country.”

“Uhhh. Right. So what is this job, anyway?”

“Nothing less than the goal to which I have worked for the past two hundred years: The protection of a nation and way of life from all threats, outside and in.”

“So … you’re what? The Illuminati? The secret defenders of the USA?”

“No, I am a printer. Not a humble one, to be sure, but a shaper and crafter of words. A man with such a heavy responsibility, or so it seems to me, should take all due care to make certain that things, once conceived and written, are done correctly. I, and a body of men I respect greatly, put a large amount of effort into the Constitution and I will not allow it to be pulled asunder while I still draw breath.”

“Are you drawing breath? And if so, how?” asked Ed. “I’ve got a million questions! Like …” Ed’s hands waved around while he looked for something worth asking. “Uh, Daylight Savings Time. What the hell’s up with that? Why positive and negative electricity? And why does it flow backwards—”

A raised hand silenced Ed instantly. “Daylight Saving Time was a joke,” Doctor Franklin explained. “A friendly little jape at the French that was taken more seriously than intended. Electricity flows exactly the way it was intended to flow, I believe, but the bi-polar nature is exceedingly useful in certain advanced mathematics and mercilessly exploited by Norman Dean in his miraculous engine.”

“The Dean Drive worked? It could really fly?”

“As reaction-less propulsion? Don’t be absurd; that was just poor marketing, much like common usages of Schrödinger’s cat. Now, Mr. Robbins, if we could just get back on topic, the other 999997 questions can wait for when we have more time. When I arrived, I believe my colleagues were offering you a job ….”

Melissa woke up some time later, well into the evening hours, feeling sore all over, pleasantly tired, and still a little horny. OK, she admitted, toying with a nipple swollen almost solid and looking, to her, very tasty. Perhaps more than a little horny. She lay on her bed for a while, enjoying the silence, before stretching carefully and finally sitting up. The muscles in her belly and buttocks complained harshly.

“My knees are even bruised,” she groaned. Her throat felt raw from all of the screaming. But fuck! We are going to do all that again tomorrow!

Alone in the apartment, Melissa shelled into her research account at the school to start up another run of data analysis, and sat in her chair. For the next hour, she occasionally copped a quick feel of herself or jotted down some notes, but most of it she spent doodling muscular men with impossibly large, hard cocks.

Finally she sighed and stood.

She had a long, masturbatory shower, got dressed, and drove to the school, scoring a prime parking spot right by the lab.

Inside, she walked right to the scanner.

Shoot. I really need Ed here for this, but if he was here, I’d be sitting on him, grinding on that fat cock of his, and bucking and fucking until cum shot out my ears. We’d get nothing done.

Besides, she thought, flipping the panel covering the power supply open. He’d try to stop me.

I fucked Paul in an access corridor for, like, hours, every which way! thought Audrey, her mind still buzzing from a sexual overload beyond anything she’d ever imagined. What the hell was I thinking? Anyone could have walked in on us! I even I even sucked him off three or four times and that’s impossible! Impossible? I— We did it! I couldn’t stop! He tasted like candy and, oh God, I’m getting wet just from thinking about doing it again!

“Hey, doll, how about a blowjob for me, too?” asked the patient.

Ed and I are going to have one hell of a talk. I’ve never cum like that before. Even when he did my ass I was in heaven. I …. Audrey stopped reading the panel and blinked. She looked at the patient, a short man with the bandaged head. That was pretty forward. I mean I’ve been propositioned before, especially in the last few days, but … ‘Too?’ How could he have known?

Audrey went on thinking in her own little bubble world as the Elf took over.

“Is it part of your treatment, Mr …” she looked at the name on the charts, “Steuerung? Or do you just enjoy being orally pleasured by strange women?”

“Bit of both, ma’am,” he said with a smile. Their eyes locked.“Like yer eyes,” he said just before she grabbed his mind. “Look like a cat. Never got head from a woman with cat’s eyes before. I like’em. Y’know, I think we should go all the way, don’t you? Turn on for me, baby.”

The Elf recoiled slightly. “You noticed? Who—”

Talking ceased to be important. Making the cocky little mortal suffer wasn’t important. The last of the free Elves found herself trapped in a new prison and bound with chains of lust. The rampant need to sexually pleasure the little human crushed her self-control, and in her haste to satisfy her cravings, she let go her hold on Audrey and raced across the intervening space, too impatient to be slowed down by the trappings of mortality.

Her hands reached through the sheets and the man’s gown, but could not grasp what her soul longed for. Panicked need destroyed what remained of reason as her disembodied fingers clawed at—through—the patient’s crotch. Her animalistic screams of frustrated arousal and rage filled the ethereal void.

Without a body, she could never suck anything, let alone feast on the cock that dominated her will. She could never fulfill the command. She couldn’t do much of anything but burn with irresistible carnal desire until the end of the world.

And so that is how Gareth Steuerung, the lucky son of a bitch from the intro to the first chapter, saved the day. And got a blowjob from Ed’s unbelievably sexy sister. Sure, she was the first to actually resist him, but he got her on the second try and she was well worth the effort. Having learned a lot just from her short time sharing a mind with an eons-old hedonistic elf, Audrey was Faaaaan-fucking-tastic!

Too bad for Gareth that the doctor came in to check on him before they had a chance to go any further. One chick was easy. Two … he’d figure out how to do that sooner or later. He was short, not stupid.

And he could control minds!

“Well,” said Zeus, folding his hands and leaning back as a pair of fauns gathered up the playing pieces to put them back in their box. “This round is over. Ganymede! More wine!”

“For you men, maybe, but not for us women,” Aphrodite said petulantly. “It has hardly begun! He hasn’t decided which of his lovers is his True Love! He doesn’t even understand love yet. Ed and Holly are made for one another and he just can’t see it!”

The goddess of love and beauty giggled softly. I wonder … should I teach him personally? Hephaestus does have a business trip next week ….

“Love has nothing to do with it,” countered Athena, rolling her eyes at her bimbo sister’s lack of sense. Fortunately, she’s only a half sister! “Ed and Melissa are the only rational match. They will have strong, intelligent children—a blessing for the future of their race.”

Hera made her displeasure known with a weary sigh. “There are places for love and reason, but duty is the more important by far. Our game piece took on certain implied responsibilities with Zofia that he cannot now easily discard.” I shall have to have words with their mothers. They will straighten their children out.

“Oh who cares about Ed,” spat Artemis. “What about that Tanya? I’d love to see her in latex or leather or tied spread eagle in a grassy field for my amusement. Or maybe Ruby. With those legs, she’d be a fine, long chase before I broke her in. Bet she’d be better fuck than Siproites ever was.”

“Woo Hoo!” cheered Dionysus. Then he belched and added, “Go lethbeens!”

“Do you have to use that word?” sniffed Aphrodite, trying to ignore the loud drunk.

“What? Fuck? You’re one to talk, you promiscuous bitch. At least I’m still a virgin.”

“Well no kidding, dearie,” said Athena, imitating Aphrodite’s flighty tone and still managing to drip intellectualist sarcasm. “But only technically.”

“I don’t sleep around anymore,” protested Aphrodite. “I’m married!”

Hephaestus rolled his eyes and wisely said nothing. Athena choked off a laugh. Heracles guffawed and elbowed the god of war suggestively.

“What you do isn’t sleep,” slurred Hypnos, not bothering to lift his head off the table. “But could you keep it down? I’m trying to rest here.” The god looked up and blinked in the light. “Oh. Right. That dreaming guy I set up for you, Zeus … he turn out OK?” Not waiting for an answer, the god of sleep nodded off again only to be jerked back awake as the stone table rocked and snapped in two as Ares smashed face first through it.

“Heracles!” cautioned Zeus. “Stay thy hand!”

“He called me a half-breed!” bellowed the enraged demigod.

“Ares!” barked a shocked Hera. “Don’t you have enough to keep you busy in the Middle East? And Heracles, you know the rules. No fighting at the table! The stables need cleaning. Go.”

“Awwww! Not the stables again!”

“Listen to your mother, Heracles,” commanded the king of the gods.

“She’s not my mother,” mumbled strength incarnate as he slunk between two columns and away. If he got his chores done quickly enough, maybe he could still catch Smackdown tomorrow night.

Ed sat in the Students’ pub nursing a beer and trying to ignore the live entertainment. It’s not that they were bad, not at all. It was just that the guitarist had a body that provided almost irresistible amount of temptation to just about any heterosexual male. Most people would have to resist, but most people couldn’t walk into the dream of the guy sleeping off too much to drink out in his car in the parking lot, make a few small-but-interesting changes, and thoroughly enjoy everything the musician had to offer. And then some.

“Ben’s the kind of guy to leave things unsaid to see if you picked them up,” Yogi Beresford had said before leaving. “He’s a philosopher who helped found a nation, so that’s OK. I was a Marine, so I do things a little differently. No mind control and no boob jobs, kid. I’ve got people watching.”

Words to remember, but even that could be worked around easily enough. Reality was reality after all; change it enough and the observers wouldn’t even notice it had been changed. The babe fronting the all-girl band was simply too much to ignore. With just a little more up top there wouldn’t be a soft dick in the house.

“I feel a little … AC/DC tonight,” said the hot guitarist, Tracy Lambert, laying on a heavy dose of sexual innuendo before swinging into the unmistakable riff that opened Thunderstuck.

Up on stage, Tracy’s sexy fingers played up and down her guitar. Her taut belly gyrated slowly, making the perky nipples on her large breasts trace erotic symbols in the air, and her legs—

“Ed,” said Holly. “Hello?”

“Just thinking”

“About Her, Ed?”

“Hey, a guy can dream.”

Too busy elbowing Ed in the gut, Holly missed Miss Lambert’s directed smirk and the suggestive wink. Ed didn’t.