The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Gregg couldn’t believe just how horrible the pain in his head was. His first thought was that he was lucky to be alive…but in the fog of pain he didn’t understand why that should be his first thought of the morning. It took an effort to turn his head to see that there was still another hour before the front desk of the hotel would be calling his suite to wake him up. Despite his exhaustion, he knew that sleep just was not on his immediate agenda.

“Christ, how much did I drink last night?” he mumbled to himself. He didn’t remember anything after the limousine ride following dinner with Rashi. A pang of fear shot through him. “Shit, if I drank so much to have blacked out…how badly did I embarrass myself?”

Sitting up slowly to keep the pounding in his skull at a minimum, he took stock of his surroundings. There was a definite odor of sex in his bed and on his person. The thought of having had sex with Rashi wasn’t unpleasant – in fact he had kind of hoped that was where the evening would lead…he just wished he could remember it!

Rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, he noticed the strips of cloth tied around his wrists. There were matching strips at the corners of the bed – clearly he’d been tied up and subsequently cut loose. Gregg would have raised an eyebrow of intrigue, wishing desperately he could remember the sequence that led to his being tied up and molested by Rashi…at least given the evidence at hand, that’s what he imagined happened. Contemplation of this all-too-pleasant scenario was limited since each beat of his heart seemed to cause his head seemed to swell to twice its size.

The door to Brittany’s adjoining room was slightly ajar. To his pleasant surprise, Gregg could hear soft, melodious singing emanating from beyond the door. The voice was trying to be quiet, as if singing to one’s self, but it was so beautiful and so filled with joy that it carried easily into his suite. Without thinking, his consciousness extended from his body, lured out from him by the purity of the almost child-like soprano. His eyes snapped open when it connected easily with the mind of the person singing.

“What the?...Heather? What is she doing here?” And a few seconds later one of many obvious problems with his conclusion seeped through the thick soup that clouded his thinking, “Wait…when did she learn to sing?” To say that Heather was tone-deaf was generously raising her singing ability UP to tone-deaf. It was as if all of Heather’s gifts of beauty, mind, and spirit came at the cost of artistic expression…although he’d seen some of her strip-tease routines, and it was hard not to call that art!

With great effort, Gregg stood and stumbled to the door eager to reunite with his love, not even caring or noticing that he was naked, wearing nothing but matching strips of cloth around his wrists and ankles.

“Heath…oh, uh…”

It wasn’t Heather. It couldn’t be any more NOT Heather! For starters, she was too short. She had medium-long dark brown hair. And she was ironing one of his shirts…another talent Heather lacked.

Brittany looked up from the ironing board seeing Gregg standing before her in all his glory. She blushed fiercely, carefully setting the iron on edge and laying his now smooth shirt out on her bed. A wave of pure, unadulterated love flared from the girl, identical in almost every respect to what he shared with Heather. He was used to flare-ups of lust from the girl, but nothing like this, and definitely nothing on this scale.

His mind numb with how odd the it was that he “sensed” Heather yet saw Brittany, he could only mutter, “What the hell…?”

Her blush deepened, but this time fear mixed in. She was wearing his shirt from last night, held together with a single button level with her breasts, the sleeves rolled up. Given the differences in their heights, the bottom of his shirt went down almost to her knees. Suddenly self-conscious, she pulled together the shirt a little more, hiding her cleavage. “I…I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d mind…Uh, I’ll change. I’m sorry.” She was almost panicking.

Gregg didn’t know what was going on, but her behavior was definitely weird and he needed her to be on her game today, what with their meetings beginning after breakfast. Putting a hand to his forehead he muttered, “No…no, it’s okay. Sorry…just not feeling, uh, right.” It was a completely inadequate statement, but it wasn’t like he could just ask, “Why is your consciousness identical to Heather’s?” Her thoughts were still her own, and her personality was still hers – at least it felt like it…but it was bathed in what could only be called an “aura” that was distinctly Heather. Even as he tried to describe to himself what he was seeing and feeling, normal vocabulary just seemed inadequate. The best he could come up with was taking a bite of a turkey sandwich and having it taste like mint chocolate-chip ice-cream…that is, it looked, smelled, and felt like one thing, but tasted like something else – or in this case, someONE else.

Her demeanor swung back like a pendulum with no middle ground. She released the shirt, letting it fall back to its natural state – showing off more than enough to arouse any man. Since she had been in the process of removing it, the one button was now undone and it was open from top to tails, barely covering the majority of her generous breasts – generous at least in proportion to her diminutive size. She spun to pick up a pile of neatly folded clothes and Gregg was treated to seeing the ends of his shirt fly up and expose her perfect, naked ass.

He realized at that moment that he was naked and in his numbed-state, he probably wasn’t helping. Taking a pair of boxers from her hands (which, like everything in her hands was freshly ironed), he slipped them on and took his clothes back to his room without another word, despite her watching him with overly eager eyes. He could feel the adoration pouring out from her, but for the life of him, he had no idea what had caused the change in her. More than anything, he just wanted to get his head to stop throbbing and then figure out what happened with Rashi last night.

He shuffled over to the mirror and rubbed his stubbled face. Wetting it down with some water, he applied some shaving cream and grabbed his razor. In the reflection he saw that Brittany was keeping her distance, yet made no pretense of not staring at him. He’d barely made the first swipe down his cheek when he felt the nick and saw the beginnings of a red drop of blood. Looking down at his hand, he realized with some horror that he couldn’t keep the razor from shaking. Normally, a cut like this would be easily healed but right now he just couldn’t muster even the minute amount of focus necessary to accomplish such a basic task.

Before he could even look back up in the mirror, Brittany was at his side turning his head toward her. “What?! Are you okay?! Oh my God, you’re bleeding! Here, give me that. Come here.” She’d gone straight into command mode and relieved him of his razor, pulling him into the center of the room. He was too befuddled to argue as she pulled out a chair and sat him in it. Practically running, she went into the bathroom and a moment later returned with a fresh towel, his razor, and a basin of warm water which she put on an end table next to the chair. In all this controlled chaos, he couldn’t help but admire her beautiful, tiny figure as his shirt swished and swayed while she ran to and fro. There must be something about a woman wearing a man’s shirt that drove him wild, because she was definitely turning him on.

Jumping into his lap, she straddled him, one knee on either side of his hips. Gregg inhaled her clean, fresh scent. She smelled of soap and other womanly scents fresh from the shower. There was also a delicate odor of perfume coming up from between her breasts up to her neck. He followed the smell with his nose and looked up into her eyes which seemed bigger than before. Draping one of her shoulders with a fresh towel, she picked up the razor and examined his face, biting her lip as if unsure what to do.

“Uh, have you ever…”

“Shhh – let me concentrate.”

Gregg gulped, watching her examine him as if trying to figure out how to disarm a bomb. His mind slid easily into hers, as if the Heather-aura was acting like a teflon shoe-horn that made the connection effortless. He could see her recalling childhood memories of her father shaving while she sat on the bathroom counter watching him. She pulled into her thoughts those distant memories, her father’s technique. Gregg felt he should have been nervous given the tiny girl’s inexperience. And yet, he felt wave after wave of love flooding out from her and he knew instinctively that she could be shaving him in the middle of an earthquake and she wouldn’t allow herself to cut him.

Tilting his head to one side to stretch the skin on his neck tight, she began removing his one-day growth. She used long, slow strokes, getting the feel of the razor on his skin. Her thighs tightened around his lap, making the rest of her body an immobile platform from which she performed this delicate operation. The intense look of concentration on her almost child-like face as she drew the razor down then rinsed it in the basin was beyond adorable. He especially enjoyed how the tip of her tongue poked from the corner of her mouth. He found himself growing with excitement. She smiled and blushed briefly as his manhood stretched his boxers enough to collide with her naked mound, but immediately returned to her serious expression as she continued her task.

Unwilling to move, Gregg was left alone with his thoughts as he drank in her beauty. He was feeling something totally new from himself as well as from her. She was the tiny nemesis that had been the root cause of so many of his troubles – excluding in no small amount the trouble he’d gotten from David and subsequently Christine. He’d been experiencing a growing fondness for Brittany in recent days, as if he’d been infected by the change in demeanor toward her from Charli and Laura. But nothing explained what he was feeling now. He would forever remember her past and what she’d done to him and his friends. Up to now, the most he’d felt for her was moments of lust, but never genuine affection. And likewise from her, he’d only ever felt fear and lust…maybe admiration. But not love. Definitely not love. And definitely not Heather’s love. Why he looked at her and thought of Heather…he just couldn’t explain.

She patted his now clean-shaven face dry and looked over her handiwork, nodding in self-approval. Crinkling her nose, she said, “You need a shower.” Set on her next task, she hopped off him and padded over to the bathroom, the sound of running water following a moment later. Gregg dropped his head and stared contemplatively at the carpet beneath his feet and thought maybe he was still asleep and this was all just some odd dream. Brittany was definitely acting odd – and overly familiar.

Shaking his head in disbelief, he figured a shower would do him some good, maybe clear his head. He stood and proceeded to walk into the little room filling rapidly with steam, but Brittany was nowhere to be seen. He shrugged to himself, figuring that she’d dashed back to her room while he was studying his feet a moment ago, and pulled back the shower curtain. There, standing beneath the spraying water in his now sodden, almost see-through shirt was Brittany, loofa sponge in hand.

“Well, don’t just stand there, you’re letting the steam escape.”

Unable to think of a retort, Gregg just sighed and shrugged, stepping out of his drawers and into the tub. “You could at least have taken off the shirt.”

Gregg watched the array of emotions splay across her face. First fear that she’d done something wrong, then elation that she’d get to be naked, and then back and forth again a few dozen more times. It took Gregg’s reaching for the collar of his shirt, pushing it back over her shoulders to help her finally settle on elation. Quickly peeling off the shirt, and removing the odd strips of cloth from his wrists and ankles, she promptly got to work cleaning him. Anytime he tried to do something himself, she batted his hands away. Of course, given their height difference (his 6′3″ to her 4′11″) he had to kneel so she could shampoo his hair. This turned out to be enjoyable since she stood between him and the water spray, resting his face between her breasts as she massaged his scalp.

Despite the overwhelming sexual tension (mostly coming from her), she was all business, albeit sensual business. Gregg was certain he’d never been so clean in his life. She soaped and rinsed his body with the thoroughness of a restorer cleaning the Mona Lisa. Finally shutting the water, she towel-dried him from head to feet. And only once his toes were dry, did she look up from her kneeling position and realize she was eye-to-eye with his semi-hard penis. She looked up at him with her innocent, big brown eyes, almost pleadingly. Not knowing what else to do, he simply nodded and gave her a half-smile…not like it was a difficult decision to make.

With a sigh of pure contentment, she closed her eyes and opened her small mouth wide, taking as much of his girth into her mouth as possible. Her elation was infectious and to his surprise, the blowjob felt oddly familiar – as if she’d spent the night learning his favorite techniques from Heather…which was impossible given that she was thousands of miles away.

Not even bothering to use his powers…not that he could with his still present (but diminishing) headache, it was only a few minutes before her talented mouth brought forth a delicious eruption of delicious cream. Her body shuddered slightly as she eagerly swallowed every drop he had to give, continuing to suck gently in hopes for more.

Finally coming to the realization that there was nothing more to give, she pulled her head away and looked up at him, both in love, but also searching his face for a sign of approval. His awkward smile at this display of affection brought forth an ear-to-ear grin from her pretty face.

The phone rang suddenly from the bedroom and she hopped up to get it, her still-wet naked body practically gliding across the suite. Returning a moment later, she informed him, “That was your wake-up call. The concierge also said that Charli and Emily are already in the restaurant having breakfast.” Now in pure business mode, Brittany quickly toweled herself off and began laying out the suit he’d wear for this morning’s meetings and then retreated to get herself dressed.

Still moving sluggishly, and his head still foggy, by the time he got himself dressed, she’d somehow managed to not only dress herself in smart feminine business attire, but also carefully applied makeup, dried and put up her hair, and packed both of their attaché cases. She looked the epitome of sexy authority as she inspected him, picking little bits of lint from his jacket and straightening his tie. She may no longer be an Omega Xi, but at the moment she was Omega Xi to the bone. With a contented smile, she handed him his briefcase and opened the door.

Gregg headed out toward the elevator with Brittany close on his heels. In the past year he’d learned to accept a certain amount of the unexplainable in his daily life, but this was a whole new level of crazy. “Could this morning get any weirder?”

It was late in the afternoon the day after Christine “invited” Heather into her mind. She’d since sent several emails to Heather and left two voicemails apologizing again and trying to explain in further detail what had happened and how it had happened. But with each message even she could sense her own insincerity. It was like she knew she was supposed to feel bad for what she’d done to the gorgeous red-head, but when she truly examined her feelings, she really didn’t feel bad at all. If anything, she felt worse for actually letting Heather go. The conflict between what she knew was right and what felt right was a battle balanced on the edge of a razor.

For now, she decided that she needed to give Heather space, hoping that maybe this wouldn’t permanently damage their relationship, such as it was. For now, other interests filled her thoughts. Sitting at her kitchen table wearing only the towel she’d wrapped around herself minutes before after stepping out from the shower, she fired up her laptop. Brian, Cindy, Robyn, and two of Robyn’s friends from Omega Xi were all still asleep in the king-sized bed upstairs. Christine had a lot of sexual frustration to work out last night and the addition of Robyn’s unwitting friends certainly helped. But even with Brian’s enhanced abilities thanks to the link he shared with her, Christine knew that at some point she was going to have to expand her little family to include more than just women…even Brian had his limits.

But Christine was content for the moment at least, her current lust rolling at a delightful soft simmer. She sipped her coffee and started perusing her ever-increasing library of online porn sites. It had become somewhat of an obsession for her – every new kink demanding ever newer ones. She’d given up on the free sites and had progressed into the more expensive, higher quality and esoteric sites. Money was no object…after all it wasn’t hers. Cindy’s now-ex-husband was footing the growing credit card bills, piled higher and higher with ever increasing numbers of pay-site subscriptions. His financing of her digital addiction was just part of the penance he’d pay for the abuse he’d inflicted on Christine’s first conquest. He didn’t have huge cash reserves, so she knew it wouldn’t be too long before the card got maxed out…but until then, there were terabytes of smut to absorb.

Unfortunately, most of the videos she’d watched were just disappointing. Most of the time, despite attempts to fake it, the women in the videos usually didn’t appear to be having fun at all. Christine knew how to read the visual cues and she could spot fake pleasure in an instant. It was the rare video that actually convinced Christine that the woman getting fucked was truly enjoying her experience. ‘Such a waste’ was often her thought. ‘Their job is to have sex with hung studs…and get paid for it!! But they just don’t enjoy it.’

The Christine that once existed before falling under David’s spell would have been horrified at these thoughts – considering herself something of a feminist. But thanks to David’s rewiring of her psyche, the new Christine accepted that there was no greater pleasure than to get fucked and receive the gift of cum. For some time Christine tried to convince herself of the truths of her old self – but the thoughts would remain fleeting and her struggle only seemed to make her yearn for cock that much more…just another legacy from her now dead master.

She’d only been web-surfing for a few minutes and already her towel was pooled around the base of her chair and her coffee forgotten. While her lovers slept upstairs, she deftly slid two fingers into her juicy snatch while she navigated from page to page on the laptop’s touch pad. So intent was she on her task that she was startled by Brian’s hand on her shoulder. He was standing behind her, as naked as she was. Snapped out from her fantasy-of-the-moment, she followed his gaze toward the apartment door. Suddenly there was a knock – apparently not the first.

Standing so she could answer the door, Brian’s hand again stopped her. She turned and saw him silently holding out her towel. Simple behaviors of modesty were long forgotten in this house and if not for Brian or the others that she now lived with, she’d probably be arrested for indecent exposure.

Wrapping the towel around her body to hide her full breasts – and yet still show off her considerable cleavage – she answered the door. Not having thought to extend her consciousness to see who it was, she was genuinely surprised when she opened the door. It was Cathy, the hair stylist she’d fallen in love with. It wasn’t just the platinum blonde’s ridiculously huge fake boobs that did it. Unbeknownst to the former porn actress turned coiffeur, Christine knew the secret she harbored – that this was the same Cathy who’d doomed herself to a life of drugs and porn in order to save Heather from the same fate. But Cathy didn’t know Christine’s connection to Heather, nor did Heather know that Cathy was working mere blocks from the University. Moreover, neither Heather nor Cathy knew that Christine’s love sprang from the very love that Cathy held for Heather – a love she absorbed and embraced as her own the first time they’d met. It made Christine dizzy just thinking about the circles of intrigue.

“Cathy…What are you…How did you find me?”

Standing nervously in the doorway, the blonde appeared to be anxious standing out in public. Even the modest outfit she was wearing couldn’t hide the size of the chest beneath. “You’re not a difficult person to track down. I made a few inquiries at the Omega Xi house and they pointed me in your direction.”

Christine just stood there confused, but mostly in shock that the object of her desire was standing there.

“C…could I come in…for a second?”

Finally snapping out from her reverie, Christine blinked and apologized, opening the door further and allowing Cathy in. Unconsciously, she only gave the buxom blonde just enough room to slide by, forcing their breasts to rub against one another as she squeezed through. Both blushed as the door shut behind them, but Cathy had barely gotten past her hostess when she froze, gasping.

Christine turned and realized that Cathy had stopped in shock, seeing Brian in all his glory still standing stoically in the kitchen. He was responding physically to the growing lust in Christine. Besides the surprise of seeing a naked man just standing there, Cathy was astounded by his muscled body…and the size of one muscle in particular.

“Oh, sorry. Brian, go upstairs.”

His face blank of expression, he turned and left, giving the women a nice show of his toned ass and bouncing cock disappearing to the second floor. Christine, used to such displays, was visibly calm compared to the flush that had filled Cathy’s face.

Cathy took a seat on the couch and to her surprise, Christine joined her there, sitting uncomfortably close. “Listen…I, I just wanted to thank you again for setting me up with the Xis. Laura has been great – setting up jobs with her sisters. For the first time, I feel like this little adventure of mine just might take off.”

Christine was feeling positively mischievous sitting so close to this woman, her words of thanks just rolling off her increasingly excited skin. She was turned on, and just maybe this was the day she made her fantasies with this woman come true. She could feel her own growing lust reciprocating from Cathy, a lust born in her amazement that the towel-clad woman before looked so much like her long-lost love, Heather. Turning sideways, Christine draped an arm over the back of the couch and idly played with one of Cathy’s platinum curls, ignoring the older woman’s mix of excitement and discomfort.

“It was my pleasure. I knew there was something special about you the moment you washed my hair…I just want to make sure you get everything you deserve.”

“Uhh…oh…well ahem you were very generous.” Cathy realized she was getting turned on something fierce. She hadn’t felt this hot for another woman since…well, since Heather. “So…I wanted…to uh, thank you. Maybe buy you dinner…or, uh…or something.”

Christine’s finger had moved down from Cathy’s hair to idly play with the skin at the nape of her neck. Goose pimples were rising everywhere on her flesh.

“I’ll take you up on that…I’m sure I can find some time for ‘or something…’” Christine began leaning closer and Cathy felt herself being drawn in as well. Her mouth was getting moist in anticipation of her lips meeting those of the blonde goddess who’d set her on the path to success.

Just as their lips were about to meet, Christine’s cell phone began to chime. In other circumstances she would have ignored it, but in the hopes that it might be Heather, Christine pulled back from the kiss leaving behind a very flustered Cathy. “I’m sorry – I’m expecting an important call.”

As Christine stood to get the phone from the kitchen table, Cathy leaned back letting go of the breath she only just realized she’d been holding. Her body practically quivered with lust and knew with a certainty just where this visit was heading. It wasn’t her original intention…but who was she to deny her feelings? Her last lover had been Vinnie…and something told her that this Christine would be far more gentle.

Christine looked at the caller ID. It wasn’t Heather. It wasn’t a number she recognized at all. The number of people who had her phone number could be counted on one hand with fingers left over to spare. Upset that she’d sacrificed the kiss for this unknown caller, she decided she’d better see who it was.

“Yes?” she asked somewhat angrily after flipping it open.

“Christine?”

“Yes?”

“Christine St. Martin?”

“YES?” she said with growing impatience.

“Christine St. Martin, sister of Merriam St. Martin?”

Christine’s blood ran cold and all sexual excitement drained from the room. Cathy didn’t know why, but the room suddenly seemed colder compared to the furnace it was a few moments ago.

Now, taken off guard, she responded much softer. “Y…yes.”

“Christine, my name is Sergeant Dan Corso. You’re a very difficult woman to find. I’m calling from Methodist Hospital. We’ve found your sister.”

Truly stunned, Christine answered stiffly, “I’ll be right there,” and closed her phone, not even asking what her sister was doing in the hospital. This was the first word she’d had in months that her sister was even alive. She stood there numb for a moment before turning toward her guest. Softly, almost in a whisper, she asked, “I…I need a ride to Methodist Hospital…could you…” A tear ran down her cheek.

Cathy immediately stood up and put a comforting arm around the suddenly traumatized woman. “Of course, Honey. Um…but you better put on some clothes first.”

Christine looked down, realizing that she was only wearing a towel. It was a call she’d been hoping for, praying for, dreading. Now it had come and she was frozen.

Cathy, no stranger to trauma, took control and gently grabbed Christine by the hand. Leading her upstairs to where she guessed the bedroom was, she was startled to find Brian stepping into the hallway, closing the bedroom door behind him. In that brief glimpse, Cathy was certain her eyes were playing a trick on her, but for a second she was sure she saw what could only be described as a pile of naked flesh heaped on the bed. Standing there, still naked and still fully erect, Brian held out a carefully folded pile of clothing for Christine. How he knew what she needed escaped her.

While the situation was undeniably weird, Cathy knew that her first priority was getting Christine dressed, which she proceeded to do there in the hallway under the watchful, if impassive, eye of Brian and his massive cock.

What had started as a simple trip to give a simple thank-you was turning into an excursion into the theater of the absurd.

Emily and Charli looked up from their breakfasts as Gregg and Brittany entered the dining room. Charli’s expression was one of joy but the nervousness of today’s presentation was softly etched on her face. Emily’s joy at again being in Gregg’s presence quickly faded as she saw who was approaching – seeing beyond normal ability thanks to the minute, yet real powers she’d accidently taken from Gregg. And what she saw made her agitated, fearful of what approached.

‘Gregg? What…’ her worried thoughts shouted in his mind.

‘Shhh’ he thought back, wincing in pain but trying to keep a calm demeanor for Charli and Brittany who knew nothing of his powers. ‘Not so loud…I think I had too much to drink last night…’

Emily stood angrily and thought at him, ‘Your room, now!’ and proceeded to march off toward the elevators after throwing her napkin angrily onto the table.

With Charli and Brittany watching uncertainly at Emily’s sudden change of mood, he quickly told Brittany to order him something, but nothing too heavy, and apologized to Charli, giving her a similar confused shrug.

Running to catch up, Emily almost let the elevator doors close before he jumped into the car. It had barely risen a half-floor when she slammed the emergency stop, causing the car to stop with a jerk. She looked up at him with a fury he’d never seen before – especially not directed at him.

Punching him roughly in the chest, she shouted, “What the hell did you do to her?! What on earth possessed you to do that! I know you don’t like her, but – Jesus Gregg, how could you be so cruel?!?”

“What are you talking about Em? I—” He flinched as she rammed her fist once more into his already sore chest.

“Don’t call me ‘Em!’ You don’t’ get to call me that anymore! Not after what you did! Do I need to keep my distance from you too? Are you going to turn me into a zombie also if I piss you off?”

“Zombie? Em…uh, Emily, you’re not making any se—” punch

“I know she’s done a lot of bad things, but Jesus Christ Gregg…” punch

“Emily!! Will you shut up for a second!” She stopped talking but the fire burning in her eyes didn’t diminish. Her fist remained knotted, just in case she needed to let another punch fly.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Emily was about to protest, but he held up his hand to forestall her. “I swear! I woke up this morning and she was like that…And I wouldn’t call her a zombie. She’s still there, but there’s something…” he waved his hands in front of his body, trying to visualize the overlapping aura about her that he couldn’t explain with words. “…odd. I don’t remember drinking that much last night, but I guess the jet lag or something…” He was fumbling over his words. “All I remember was having dinner with Rashi, and the riding over in her limo with her…and…and then nothing until this morning.”

She looked at him as if trying to maintain her anger. She reached out for the sides of his head and Gregg quickly intercepted him. She tilted her head with an expression that clearly said, “Let go,” and he obeyed. She cupped the sides of his face and closed her eyes. With an intense mental push, she forced herself in – something she never had to force before. Like an ant moving a boulder she pushed aside the chemical blocks that obstructed his thoughts and like releasing a dam, the memories burst forth. Gregg couldn’t imagine the rage she harbored at what was done to Brittany because he was substantially stronger than she was with the powers, and yet he’d failed to break through the mental barrier she’d just crushed!

With agonizing clarity they watched the events of the night replay themselves – from the scratch on the neck, to his binding, to his grasping for some anchor to maintain his sanity…to Brittany’s unfortunate slip into his emotional and psychological vortex.

Emily let go of Gregg’s face, tears welling up…but they didn’t have time to fall as her eyes rolled up into her head and her knees collapsed. Gregg just caught her before she collapsed to the ground.

Running his fingers through her hair, gently tapping the side of her face with his hands, he tried to revive her but failed.

“Is everything all right, sir?” a metallic voice piped through a speaker inside the elevator.

Gregg looked around, finally spotting the tinted half-sphere cover of a security camera in the ceiling. Deciding that the fewer questions asked, the better, he lifted Emily up into his arms, unlocked the elevator and let it begin to rise up to his suite’s floor.

“Uh, everything’s okay…she’s…um…she’s just got low blood sugar.”

“Should we send for a doctor, Dr. Walters?”

Gregg winced. He should have known he’d be recognized given the high-profile nature of his visit.

“N…no. Let me just get her up to my room…I’ll be down with instructions in a few minutes.”

“Very well. Good day.”

Sighing in relief as the elevator came to a stop at the hotel’s top floor, he quickly carried her back to his room and laid her in his bed. It took some effort to pry her arms from around his neck. Her body shuddered with silent sobs. “I’m so sorry Gregg. You must hate me…”

Gregg rubbed the side of her face, holding her hand, kissing her fingers.

“I could never hate you, Em.”

“But…but I thought the absolute worst of you…I doubted you…I thought you’d become a monster.”

“It’s okay. I understand.”

She opened her eyes and Gregg fought to keep from wincing. They were puffy and bloodshot, much more so than just from crying. Gregg knew first-hand what using the powers beyond one’s ability did and it was clear Emily had seriously over-extended herself. “No Gregg. You don’t understand. You’re far too innocent for you own good.”

“You should know – you robbed me of my innocence.” Emily tried to smile at Gregg’s joke. The night she took his virginity was one of her most treasured memories.

“No Gregg. I have just an inkling of your power, and every day is a struggle not to abuse it. That lady, Rashi, unwittingly unleashed your powers and look what happened to Brittany. You’ve so ingrained your love for Heather into Brittany’s psyche that I don’t think you’ll be able to unravel it without destroying her. Gregg…I’m scared. I’m scared that I’m a loaded gun and that I might one day lose control and go off. And if I’m a gun, then you’re a nuclear bomb…”

Gregg finally understood. Emily thought he’d snapped, much like Christine had the night she’d woken from her coma and almost killed everyone in his “family.”

He suddenly wanted to talk about this more, finally getting a better grip on the dark realities inherent in his powers – possibilities he never intended to unleash but could just as easily be triggered accidently. He needed to talk, but Emily’s eyes were closed, her breathing steady.

Lovingly kissing her forehead, he removed her shoes and tucked her into the bed. Scribbling a note for her to call him when she woke which he left by the phone, Gregg took a deep breath and headed out the door. Downstairs at the front desk, he left instructions for them to check on her every hour and to attend to her every need – money was no object.

He popped back into the dining room and Charli and Brittany looked up at him, concerned. “It was nothing…she just wasn’t feeling well. Maybe something she ate.”

Charli put the piece of bacon she was biting into back down onto the plate, looking concerned. He looked at his own plate which Brittany had loaded up from the buffet and lost his appetite. Apparently she didn’t quite understand “not too heavy” and got him a serving of everything and anything she thought he’d like. “C’mon – we’re going to be late.”

Brittany looked at the pile of food she’d meticulously assembled and sighed dejectedly. Taking a muffin from the pile, she carefully wrapped it in a napkin and put it in her briefcase, safely away from her papers. It was a good thing too, since once he got to the limo that was there to take them to the meeting, his stomach started rumbling. Gregg’s praise for her thoughtfulness made her smile so brightly one would have thought she’d just won a beauty pageant. Charli thought it was incredibly amusing that the sense of devotion Brittany usually saved for her was now being heaped upon Gregg. He did his best to return her smile while hiding his grief over what only he and Emily knew he had done to her. Whatever fate she may have once had on her own was forever destroyed – she was now permanently tied to him. Brittany’s newfound devotion to him dwarfed even that of Laura’s – who to this day still insisted on calling him “Master.”

The limo came to a stop and the driver stepped out and around to open the door. Gregg was the closest to the door but he didn’t exit right away. Looking over at Charli, he said matter-of-factly, “Charli, I need to switch around the order of things this morning. I need you to be the first presenter.”

Charli’s eyes flared with horror and with anger. She was counting on having another hour or two to quietly review her notes while Gregg talked. Gregg sensed Brittany tense up, prepared to launch herself between Charli and Gregg if Charli decided to attack. It would have been funny, but Brittany’s new unconscious devotion to him had him unsettled. “Why?” was all she asked, swallowing as if trying to keep from vomiting.

Gregg put a placating hand on her knee. “Because last night I learned that these people don’t play fair.” She looked questioningly at him, but he decided not to go into it – not having the emotional reserves to think up a good lie. “Besides, your part in this presentation is the only thing that’s rock-solid. I need to watch them to figure out what I need to do to win over the rest. I have every confidence in you and all the work you’ve done.”

Charli smiled at Gregg’s praise. Despite her own transformations, she always felt like the old, mousy Charli whenever she was around Gregg…and that little bit of praise did wonders for her self-confidence. Even Brittany sat up a little straighter, her own pride swelling. After all, Charli was the one who’d initially tamed her. And despite being “set free,” Brittany still looked at the younger girl with stars in her eyes.

Nodding in acceptance of Gregg’s desires, the three of then finally exited the limo. The Ministry of Culture was beautifully decorated with what Gregg figured to be priceless antiquities. There was definitely a woman’s touch – further confirming Gregg’s guess that Rashi was the ultimate decision-maker in this Ministry. In stark contrast, the conference room where today’s meeting would be held was state-of-the art, clearly a room where she allowed the men in her Ministry to feel like they had a place and a voice. Gregg and Charli were shown to adjacent seats at about the 10’oclock position of the long oval table and Brittany took a chair against the mahogany paneled wall behind them. While Charli busily set up her laptop and connected it to the projector cable, Gregg looked around the room. The only person missing at the moment was Rashi.

Gregg immediately opened his senses, taking a read on the room. This passive ‘listening’ as he liked to think of it only took a little concentration and never caused the massive headaches he got when he forcibly tried to take control over someone. To his satisfaction, most of the members of the committee – all men – had pretty much already made up their minds about how things were going to go – and things were going to go exactly however Rashi deemed. There were two overwhelming sensations he picked up – one, that they were looking forward to watching this Westerner beg despite already knowing the outcome, and two, this lucky Westerner certainly liked to surround himself with gorgeous women. This whole charade was because of their own weaknesses from when they visited Chicago and Gregg’s cadre of beautiful sorority girls made them overly enthusiastic about his project. Now it was Rashi’s turn to clean up their mess. With Rashi pulling the committee’s strings, distracting the men with feminine flesh would only get him so far.

And speaking of Rashi, she finally entered the room. Ignoring everybody as she usually did, she marched straight to her chair and took a seat. The smugness turned to a blush when she finally looked up at Gregg. Not only did he not appear to be suffering from the signature headache that the drugs she gave him last night should have been causing, but she could practically feel the hatred boring into her. In all her times interrogating people with this particular cocktail, no one ever looked as unscathed as Dr. Walters did at that moment. She glanced at the girl sitting behind him shuffling papers on her lap, and her blush deepened that much more. She remembered with acute clarity how incapacitated she’d become just watching Dr. Walters fuck that girl last night. She’d never seen anything like it before and knew she’d never see anything like it again. She pulled her thick black hair over one shoulder and began to play with the ends idly – something she hadn’t done since she was a little girl when her father would scold her. Her suspicions about Dr. Walters and some legendary mystical gifts were being confirmed by the second…and with that growing confirmation, a growing fear that her opportunity to take control had come and gone last night.

“Well, now that we’re all here,” Gregg said as he stood from his seat, taking an air of authority. All the men looked nervously from him to Rashi, clearly hearing the disdain in his voice. None of them dared use that tone with her and they winced waiting to see what fury she’d unleash. To their amazement she just gulped and looked down guiltily. Gregg could hear the echoes of their desires to see him squirm fading. “You’ll forgive me, but I’d like to change up the agenda for today’s meeting. Since the digital mapping and archiving software developed by my associate here is by far the most interesting part of the presentation, that is where I’d like to start.” He leaned over and whispered, “Charli, you ready?”

She nodded, struck a few keys on the laptop, and the projection screen lit up with a map of the dig site Gregg was trying to save. As she launched into her presentation, Brittany began walking around the table, handing out folders with detailed notes and budget information. Gregg slipped into her mind as she rounded the table. When she passed by Rashi, Gregg had Brittany’s hand reach out and scratch the back of her neck with a fingernail, exactly where Rashi had scratched him with the paralytic.

“Oh, sorry!” Brittany whispered embarrassedly, not knowing what came over her, and quickly moving on. Rashi’s head turned back to Gregg who was openly staring at her with venom in his eyes. She touched the back of her neck with a suddenly sweaty palm, relieved that the skin hadn’t been broken. Realizing she was trapped by her own air of command and confidence, she tried to make sense of how things went wrong. She knew she had some time to puzzle things out and was safe, at least for the moment, from anything Dr. Walters might do in retaliation.

By now Charli had begun her presentation in earnest, so all eyes were on her…except for Rashi’s. She and Gregg seemed to be in a private meeting of their own, their eyes locked on each other. Rashi knew that there wasn’t a man she couldn’t stare down, and it wouldn’t take long before the balance of power was satisfactorily restored, mystical powers be damned. She’d seduced men with power before. If she couldn’t have his powers (“my powers!” she reminded herself – “mine by my lineage to the High Priest!”) directly, controlling the one who controlled the powers would have to suffice. Besides, seducing Dr. Walters – given what she watched last night – would be far more pleasant than having to resort to other, messy means.

‘You and I need to talk, Rashi,’ Gregg’s voice echoed in her mind. She looked around worriedly, noticing that no one seemed to hear what she heard. Her eyes flitting back to Gregg, she gulped nervously when she saw the mischievous smile on his face. What felt like an invisible hand began to slide up the inside of her thigh and she quickly clamped her legs shut…but that did nothing to stem the pleasurable sensations which continued to work their way higher slowly.

Rashi glanced around worriedly as she tried to maintain her calm demeanor, but it was getting increasingly difficult with every inch that hand gained. The hand withdrew and for a moment she thought she was safe, that maybe this was all in her imagination. But just as suddenly, she felt the unmistakable sensation of two large hands roughly massaging her breasts. She gasped suddenly, and as all eyes in the room turned to her, she covered her mouth, faking a coughing fit. Taking a sip of her water, she whispered an apology and soon all eyes returned to Charli. A few eyes lingered as they noticed her nipples poking out against the material of her dress. Despite the rough manhandling of her chest, at least there was no physical manifestation of it – the heavy massage felt like her breasts were being mauled in grand circles, her nipples tweaked and stretched, but to any outside viewer, everything basically looked normal. The phantom hands were very rough, exactly how she liked it. No previous lover had dared to be this rough – they were too afraid of her to give her what she secretly desired.

Small beads of perspiration began to form at the sides of her head and once again that third phantom hand worked its way up between her legs, this time passing through her panties as if they weren’t even there, lodging two fingers deeply into her rapidly moistening cunt. She gripped the edge of the table with one hand tightly while the other shot down to her lap, as if to shoo away the invading hand – but of course, there was nothing there.

‘Please….stop!’ she thought, catching Gregg’s eyes as he watched her with passive amusement.

‘What do you mean? I’m not doing anything,’ he thought back. Slightly lifting his hands from the table, he showed them to her briefly. ‘Look Ma, no hands…and nothing up my sleeves…no poisonous rings, for example.’

Rashi paled in spite of the intense pleasure she was being forced to publicly endure. But to Gregg’s surprise, it wasn’t fear or panic she was feeling most of all. It was jealousy. The tales of her childhood, mere legend, were apparently true. Powers that she felt should have been hers, as the sole living heir of that infamous high priest whose name had been blocked from history, were now in the hands of this unworthy outsider.

Gregg sensed all this, and despite all that had happened, despite all the damage done with these powers, he was glad HE had them and not her. Emily was right in fearing the monster that such powers could unleash – as he was moments from unleashing himself. That day may yet occur…but, he thought at last with a satisfied smile, it wouldn’t happen today.

All the pleasurable stimuli suddenly disappeared from Rashi and she almost fell forward in relief.

‘I could have embarrassed you…well, more so than what I just did, that is.’ Gregg thought to Rashi in a calm voice. ‘I could have had you strip naked, hop onto the table, and give every man in this room his turn in your ass.’

Rashi stared up at him in wonder. That they were communicating telepathically didn’t seem to faze her anymore. The knowledge that not a single man in the room would pass up the opportunity to fuck her – out of lust or out of hatred – was painfully obvious. ‘Why not? I’m clearly outmatched here. You could do anything you want with me. You could even make me your sex slave…’ All her training kept her from giving any physical demonstration as to her true thoughts…but Gregg wasn’t reading her expression. Her true motives were as clear to him as if she’d spoken them aloud.

‘That’s a nice try…but no. I will give you neither the satisfaction nor the opportunity. You will not earn my trust today by giving me your body. Nor will you seduce me into your good graces. You need to understand that neither I nor my powers will be yours. No, you and I have much to discuss…but it will not be here and it will not be now. For now, I insist that you give my colleague your full and undivided attention.’

She sat back in her seat, warily. ‘So that’s it – you’re not going to do anything to me?’ And in a seductive mental voice, ‘Rape me?’ She subtly licked her lips, arching her back just enough to emphasize her voluptuous figure. These minute moves had stolen the hearts of numerous lesser men.

Gregg gave her one last look before turning his attention to Charli, now thoroughly disgusted by the woman sitting across from him. ‘Quite the contrary. The rape has already begun. Events are now going to unfold in a certain way along a path of my choosing…not yours. You’re going to make certain decisions not because you want to, but because I’ve instructed your mind to do so. You’ll find that you are completely in my power, but you won’t know which decisions are yours and which are mine…all that you’ll know is that no matter what you do, the interests of me and my friends will be your top priority. Any harm that is visited upon any of us will be returned to you ten-fold. Know this: because of what you’ve done to me and my friends, someone in this room will be leaving this meeting getting far more than they ever expected and someone else…well, let’s just say they’ll spend the rest of the foreseeable future in that person’s service .’

Rashi felt her head being forcibly turned to face the presentation by the phantom hand that minutes before had been sliding up her dress. In the back of her mind she was already planning the destruction of all the background information she and her agents had collected on Gregg and his friends – especially Gregg’s Mossad neighbors. Agents will be recalled, documents will be shredded, files erased…and a certain number of her best spies would find themselves betrayed to the Israeli Intelligence Agency. They would know who betrayed her…and if they ever were released or escaped, her life would be forfeit.

She also knew that this wasn’t her idea or her desire. And as her mental to-do list grew, she shuddered in horror.

And she knew she wouldn’t disobey.

It felt like an insistent tug of a rope. It was a pull on her psyche that refused to be ignored. She just wanted to be left alone, to wallow in her self-made prison of despair. She’d succumbed to her own lust and had allowed her own need to overtake her – to almost forsake her love for Gregg for immediate sexual gratification. If Christine hadn’t voluntarily stopped, Heather knew she would have been calling the tormented girl “Master.”

She’d felt this tug before. Whenever Gregg was in trouble or in pain, she knew in it her bones. But this tug wasn’t from Gregg…and that’s why she tried to ignore it. And despite all her self-loathing, the human side of her kept her listening. In all the trouble Gregg had gotten himself into over the past year, she’d never felt suffering quite like this. She hated Christine for what she had done…or, more accurately, what Christine had helped Heather uncover about herself. It is often easier to hate the person who points out one’s character flaws that it is to hate oneself for having those flaws.

She hated Christine, she hated herself…but she could no more ignore this silent plea for help than she could ignore a lost child at a park crying for his mother. She started walking, not knowing where she was headed, but certain every step brought her closer to where she needed to go. The mid-morning sun gradually arched overhead becoming afternoon sun, then evening sun.

Her feet were sore, her legs tired, but she kept walking, the north-Chicago suburbs giving way to Wriglyville and then grittier downtown and industrial areas. She was dimly aware of the shady areas she passed, also dimly aware that no one seemed interested in interfering with her journey.

Glass sliding doors opened as she approached one particular building. Elevator doors took her up to a sixth floor. As she walked down a hallway that had the all-too-familiar odor of antiseptic, she feared the worst. A door was closed, yet she could sense the staff nurses wanting to check on the room’s occupant. A lone, silent guard stood vigil, ensuring that those behind the door were given their privacy.

Heather approached Brian, fear running through her veins. The last time they’d met in a hospital, he’d forcibly kept her from saving Gregg. His unflinching body keeping her from rescuing him as they stared down Christine’s fireball. Despite higher powers “resetting” the game, she still remembered the flesh from his arm lodged under her fingernails as she tried to claw her way into the room. In one sense it never happened…in another sense, it had been all too real.

She was drawn to whatever lay beyond that door…would she have to fight her way in?

Brian stared down at her, stoically. He had once been such a fun-loving kid, just another of “El Professor’s” gang at the Tunisia dig. Now, he had seen too much – lost too many fights trying to save Christine from the horrors of David and Adam.

Maybe after all that, it was better to feel nothing at all.

“Brian,” Heather gulped nervously under his intense stare. “I need to go in there…”

Heather waited as he stared into her. Deep beyond his flat stare, Heather started to see the glimmer of intense emotions like a tiny diamond in an ocean of coal.

When he blinked, it disappeared – the briefest insight into what remained of his humanity.

He reached behind him and turned the handle. Heather nodded in thanks, exhaling the breath she’d been holding. Just as she was about to enter, he grabbed her upper arm. She looked up, fearfully.

“You’re safe here.” It was all he said.

The door opened a little more. Directly in front of her was a woman sitting on the edge of a chair, holding the hand of another woman in a hospital bed. Heather knew immediately who they both were.

Christine sobbed, holding her sister’s hand – a hand plugged with tubes and wires. Heather took in the image of the girl Christine was holding. She was emaciated. Worn. Beaten. She had all the tell-tale signs of abuse – both physical and drug. Tubes going into her mouth kept her breathing, tubes in her arms kept her nourished…kept her alive – if this could be called living. It was chilling seeing this girl – David’s handiwork was all over her. Unable to conquer Heather, David captured Christine and tried turning her into a Heather-clone. When that wasn’t enough to satisfy him, he captured Christine’s sister, Merriam, and tried turning her into a clone of Emily. Christine and Emily, sisters, had become forced lovers. The cruelest twist was that while David maximized Christine’s pleasure at her sister’s hand, he also did the same for Merriam – except that he kept her very much aware of what was happening. When David died, Merriam ran away, unable to face her sister, her family, or even herself…

Heather too started crying – seeing the fate she’d avoided simply by being lucky enough to fall under Gregg’s spell rather than David’s. Christine must have finally felt her presence because she slowly let go of her sister’s hand, gently placing it back onto the bed. She kissed her sister’s forehead and wordlessly stood, turned, and fell into Heather’s arms.

This was the woman she hated. The woman who unwittingly unearthed her own failings.

Heather felt ashamed of herself. This was just a lost girl who’d suffered more than any one person should ever have to suffer…more than any ten persons.

Heather embraced her, letting go of that hatred, at least for now. Christine must have felt the release of that hatred and like a dam breaking, Christine’s sobs turned to uncontrollable wailing. Heather could feel her shirt soaking in the blonde’s tears, feel the fabric crushed in the girl’s fist, feel her body being held so tightly it was difficult to breathe. As Christine mourned the fate of her sister, Heather embraced and shared the unimaginable pain with her – a sister of sorts.

Moving Christine’s head to the opposite shoulder, Heather finally saw the rest of the room – or more specifically, the room’s third occupant. It was a face out of a dream – out of the nightmares of her own past. A ghost she’d never expected to see again appearing in the most unlikely of places, the most inconvenient of times.

Clearly this woman had been staring at her for some time, the surprise at seeing who’d just entered still somewhat evident on her face. But seeing no escape, she had resigned herself to this confrontation.

Even as Christine continued to sob obliviously upon her shoulder, Heather stared in disbelief as Cathy stood, smiled weakly, a tear escaping her eye.

“Hello Heather. It’s been a while, huh?”

Four Champaign glasses clinked together in the private lounge at the Tunisian International Airport.

“I…I still can’t believe it!” Charli said, swallowing the celebratory toast.

Gregg gave her a conspiratorial wink, although she wasn’t aware of any conspiracies at the moment. “So, how’s it feel to be a freshman in college and CEO of your own international corporation?”

Charli slumped back in her chair quickly swallowing the remainder of her glassful of the expensive bubbly. “I…just…I…”

“You deserve it!” Emily piped in, squeezing in next to her on the chair, giving her friend a hug and a peck on the cheek. Charli then watched as Emily gave a similar conspiratorial toast to Gregg who then returned it. The only one not acting like she was in on some big joke was Brittany – whose behavior seemed to go through its own transformation over the past few days. Maybe it was the stress of all the life-changes in the past few weeks, or maybe just some bad seafood, but Charli’s tiny submissive seemed to have a sudden ardor for Gregg…not that she could blame her.

“It’s true, Charli,” Gregg jumped in. “No matter what else we did or didn’t get on this visit, your software prototype was amazing and they saw the benefit in that. So what if they saw even greater potential and want to be in on the ground floor when your business really takes off!”

“Business?” Charli’s eyes widened. “I don’t know anything about business! Oh, Gregg this is all happening too fast!”

Gregg came to the rescue, refilling her glass of Champaign. “Just try to enjoy the moment, we’ve got time to work out the details. You don’t even have to accept their proposal – or ‘counter-offer,’ is probably more accurate. We made the best case we could for saving the dig, and this is their response. I think you’d be a fool to pass this opportunity up.”

“Yeah…but…but you got nothing out of it,” Charli said sadly. It made her feel awkward that the Ministry’s counter-offer was focused almost entirely on her, leaving Gregg and his dig with almost nothing.

“I wasn’t surprised. Besides, I wouldn’t say I got nothing. The dig may be lost to the needs of the almighty dollar, but I’ve come to see that the things I want to learn go beyond that one particular site. The more I think about it, the less convinced I was that there was anything more to learn from digging in THAT particular dirt.” Emily smiled quietly, one of the few to know that his search for the roots to his powers had little to do with that particular site. Unfortunately, he was already invested in his quest when he’d discovered the truth…and it would have been hard to explain just why he suddenly would have been in favor of abandoning it.

“Listen, the Ministry has agreed to a general partnership regarding the historical and archeological sites in its country. That gives me and the University enormous leverage in naming sites, negotiating research teams, and getting in on the front end of any new discoveries. If nothing else, it means that the Archeology program at ESU will take off with a nearly permanent agreement to train students at real-live digs. Furthermore, with you as the majority stakeholder in this proposed software company, the University as a minority partner, and the Ministry of Culture basically acting like a minority stockholder and venture capitalist, you have the financial freedom to build it as you see fit. You don’t need to quit school – this will unfold along whatever timeline YOU set. Just think of it as a guaranteed job after you graduate!”

Charli’s head was spinning. “It’s far more than I ever could have expected!”

Gregg smiled. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

“I…I don’t know what to say!”

“Say that you’ll hire me. I think a quarter-time buy-out of my salary would do just fine. Between your company and what you’ll be doing for my tenure possibilities…I’ll be forever in your service.”

That thought in particular seemed to get through Charli’s worry. Gregg…indebted to HER?!? She owed everything to him. If not for him, she’d still be the mousy little nerd getting humiliated by the likes of…well, people like Brittany…or at least, people like who Brittany used to be…

As the panic subsided a little, she realized that she was surrounded by highly intelligent, highly capable people she knew she could count on to help her build this potential company into something to be proud of.

She looked at the clock on the wall. There was at least another two hours before they needed to board their plane back to the states, and their privacy in this suite was guaranteed. Now her face broke out into a conspiratorial grin of her own. “You know Gregg, what you say has merit. Maybe I’ll consider your proposal.” She took a long sultry sip of the Champaign. “But I think I’m going to need further convincing…and I think you’re wearing too much clothing to adequately state your case.”

Gregg’s eyes beamed happily above his own glass. “Why, Charli, I believe—”

“That’s Mistress Cheryl, to you,” Charli interrupted, sitting straighter in her chair, handing off her glass to Emily. Brittany’s eyes went wide at Charli’s announcement of her former alter ego – the alter ego that had tamed her into submission. Charli slipped into the role of Mistress Cheryl as easily as putting on a mask. And not so long ago, Brittany felt dominated by that mask…only later to realize it wasn’t the mask that she was subservient to…it was the strong powerful woman standing before her – the strong powerful woman who also apparently could dominate the man she now loved.

Gregg’s grin became a huge smile. “My apologies… As I was saying…Mistress Cheryl…I believe what you’re suggesting amounts to sexual harassment.”

Charli stood, staring intently at Gregg. Her eyes seemed to gleam darkly as she fully embraced her role even without the benefit of costume.

Not needing instruction, Brittany quickly got to work unbuckling Gregg’s belt and unzipping his fly. She knew what her Mistress wanted and if it just so happened to make her newfound love happy as well, then all was right with the world.

Pulling down her panties from beneath her long flowing skirt, Charli stepped free from them and crawled into Gregg’s lap. His already stiff member slid easily into her as she sank down with a shuddering sigh.

“Yes Gregg…ungh…this is sexual harassment. I sexually harass ALL my new employees…Do you have a problem with that?”

Gregg began unbuttoning her blouse as she started rocking slowly up and down on his lap. “No Boss. Not at all. It is my pleasure to serve you.”

Just on the other side of the room, amidst the smelly throngs of those traveling coach, Rashi sat uncomfortably with her carry-on. Her attempt to look incognito just made her stand out that much more. Just as Dr. Walters had described, she’d acted as his unwitting servant, destroying all the documents she’d had on him and his friends. Ordering certain human assets…terminated. (She had to swallow bile at the memory of signing those orders…)

But then Dr. Walters did something she didn’t understand. He could have forced her to accept every one of his proposals, make him incredibly rich…but instead he had her convince the committee to vote down every one of his ideas other than opening the door to future collaborations and starting this little company for one of his women. It was embarrassing enough that she didn’t understand his motives…but what she knew was yet to come – the reason she was about to board a plane…it was enough to make her vomit for real.

The steady mental feed Gregg had been sending her way for the past half-hour gave her an unobstructed view of how much fun he and his entourage was having in the next room. It took every effort for her to maintain a modicum of composure when all she really wanted to do was thrust her hand under her dress and get herself off. And for another hour at least, she’d have to continue to endure. At that point, Gregg and his girls would get seated in first class and she’d take her seat in the back row of coach near the bathrooms for a long journey back to the United States.

Gregg Walters, holder of unspeakable power…power that should have been hers…power she was physically unable to speak about…Gregg Walters’ final order which could not be disobeyed was that upon landing, she’d head over to his place, await his return, and then be presented to the ones calling themselves E’dan and Rivkah…ruthless Mossad agents and assassins who knew all too well who and what she was.