The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It’s been a while since I could hold my head up high. I mean, things have been really depressing lately.

It’s been about a month now since I woke up in the hospital, wrapped up like a mummy with tubes coming out of all of my orifices. Apparently I was in a pretty bad way... broken bones, punctured lung, torn muscles and tendons. Luckily, I heal pretty quick. Instead of the usual six to eight weeks of recovery time, I was back on my feet again in about half that time. We Supers tend to be pretty resilient.

Well, up to a point, I suppose.

“There’s been no change so far, I’m afraid,” Aunt Eva said regretfully as I entered the room. I merely nodded, sliding over to the unoccupied chair on the other side of the bed. Veronica Mitchell lay peacefully in the hospital bed, apparently dead to the world. Only the steady rise and fall of her chest and the steady beep-beep-beep of the monitors convinced me that she was indeed still alive.

“Still unable to reach her at all?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“No,” Eva confirmed with a single shake of her head. “Nothing. I must say, I’m at a loss to explain it. It’s like... like she’s there, but not there... like she’s, I don’t know... only a ghost of herself, in her own mind.” She sighed. “It’s hard to explain it clearly.”

“Is she brain-dead?”

“No, no, nothing like that. It’s serious, yes, but not life threatening...” Eva stood up and paced back and forth a few times. “The best way of describing it would be... that her batteries simply ran out of juice. She will be fine, in time, she just needs a chance to recharge.” She stopped, and frowned. “Still, it’s a question of how long it will take her to recover her mental strength.”

I sighed deeply. I knew it wasn’t my fault that she’d ended up this way, that I hadn’t done anything to make her end up this way. But I also knew the reason she’d gone back alone to face Michaud and her brainwashed bodyguards. Reaching out, I ran a hand lightly along her cheek. Not even minding the fact that Aunt Eva was watching, I leaned forward and gave Roni a soft kiss on the forehead.

Well... we have a lot to talk about don’t we? I’ve liked you for a long time... since that first day you showed up in my Math class. And it wasn’t as if we hit it off instantly, or anything... I don’t think I made a great first impression on you when I tripped over Tyler’s leg and bumped into you. Still... we eventually became friends. I glanced down at my feet, remembering the past. The truth was, as much as I may have wanted us to be more than just casual friends, Roni had always kept a barrier between us. I’d always thought it was the whole ‘loner’s/Super Hero curse’ thing, that you could never really be close to someone if you had to keep secrets from them... but now it turns out that she had a big a secret to keep as I did.

So... where do we go from here?

“Have you seen Lacie around?” Aunt Eva asked quietly.

I sighed deeply again. “Kinda, sorta... I mean, I’ve SEEN her around... but she hasn’t exactly been Miss Chatty lately.”

Three days ago, I’d been in the process of stopping a robbery at a local Quik Stop. Simple enough, a lone gunman trying to jack the cash register... penny ante stuff. As it turned out, the guy’d had an accomplice waiting outside in a car. Just when I thought I’d had everything wrapped up, I get attacked from behind. Ducking down quickly, I took shelter behind the counter with the clerk while some drugged up freak took potshots at the store with a modified pulse rifle. Dodging and deflecting bullets—solid pieces of metal with actual MASS—I can do. Energy blasts are another matter entirely. I was in a pretty bad spot, wondering how I was going to handle this, when the firing stops. Even knowing it might be a trap, I raise my up from behind the counter, ready to dive down again just in case.

And there she was.

Lacie, Omega Girl, Dark Star, whatever she was calling herself these days... she stood there, holding the guy by his neck with one arm, shaking his just hard enough to make him drop his gun. Dropping him, she knelt down, picked up the blaster, and crushed it in her bare hands, as easily as an aluminum Coke can. I let out a breath, and moved to join her outside... but the gunman she’d dropped was down but not out. Pulling a snub-nosed revolved from his back pocket, he raised it to fire, to shoot her in the back. I’d yelled out a warning, moving as fast as I could to intercept him.

Which is pretty damned fast, if I do say so myself.

Still, for as much as I was needed, I should have stayed still. Moving even faster than I could see, she spun around, whipping her left arm out in front of her. The shot fired at the same instant, the bullet emerging with a loud report and a cloud of smoke. Lacie stood her ground, however, and when the smoke clears seconds later, both the gunman and I stood in surprise as she opened her hand, showing the bullet she’d caught in mid-flight.

She tossed the bullet away, and then, without even sparing the man a second glance, downed him with a blast of her own energy. “Well,” I said then, “I guess that’s it for him.” Her head turned, and she saw me for the first time. I think she smiled briefly, more out of surprise than actual enjoyment to see me, but all too soon her impassive mask slipped back into place. Saying nothing, she lifted off into the air... without even a backward glance.

“I understand some of what is going on with her lately,” I said after a moment, leaning back in my chair. “Eugene hasn’t come back from Midas yet, and Jerry is still MIA, vanished to wherever the hell HE went off to. Worse, all the time and effort spent tracking down the head of that abduction ring... and the losses,” I said, glancing again at Veronica, “and it was basically all for nothing. Less than a week later, some other sleazebag fills the void that Michaud had held, and three girls turn up missing, starting the whole thing over again! On top of all that, Michaud isn’t even going to serve any jail time, all her henchmen were cleared of all charges for ‘extenuating circumstances’, and Ice Queen and Stonewall escaped from prison AGAIN.” I shook my head. “If I were her, I’d be pissed too.”

“No, it’s more than that, Parker,” Aunt Eva said wearily. “It’s... it’s complicated,” she finished, lowering her head again. I frowned at her, wishing she’d say what she had started to say before. I knew Aunt Eva and Lacie were close friends, that they’d talked briefly at the end of this whole ordeal, and that she blamed herself for something that had happened to her. She refused to confide in me, however, seemingly content to punish herself with guilt instead. I’d tried more than once to pry it out of her, but facing the perfect trifecta—a psychic, a psychologist, and my mother’s sister—I got nothing.

“Aunt Eva, go home,” I said tenderly, forcing a smile. “You look like you haven’t slept in a week, and classes are over for the summer. I can stay with Roni. You haven’t been able to touch her mind in all this time; one day of rest isn’t going to hurt her and will very much help you.”

Just then my pager went off. I grunted, checking the message. “Damn, I thought these things didn’t work in hospital rooms,” I murmured softly, scrolling through the latest message. “Crap. Lieutenant Steele.” My contact with the police department, and a good guy. Hardly the kind of guy to push the panic button unless it was something serious. If he had paged me, I knew it had to be pretty bad.

“Go ahead, go,” Aunt Eva waved me on. “I’ll stay here with your girlfriend.”

“She’s NOT my girlfriend!” I retorted, by reflex. Eva cracked a small smile, so I decided to let it pass. She seemed convinced that every nice looking female I spent any length of time with was more than ‘just a friend’. Granted, I wished it to be true, but between college life, and the hero life, my personal life had suffered.

Hey, a guy has to eat and sleep sometime, yanno?

“Whatever,” Eva dismissed. “Go, on, and make me proud, like you always do. I’ll be fine. If I feel tired, I’ll take a nap right here at her bedside.”

I opened my mouth, then closed it again. Yeah, I wanted to argue the point, but the truth was, I wanted to leave. Badly. Spending more than a month trapped inside a hospital bed, slowly regaining the use of my body, had given me a much greater appreciation for the doctors and nurses that worked here, but likewise given me a deep-seated urge to spend the least amount of time here as possible.

Besides, Aunt Eva was going through something as much as Lacie apparently was. Despite the fact that she’d only met Roni for the first time at the end of the Michaud affair, she’d spent practically every spare moment of her time looking after her, trying to reach her, and bring her back.

I don’t know why, but I had the feeling she was trying to atone in some way for being unable to help Lacie.

“Alright,” I said after a moment, stopping at the door. “I’ll go, if you promise me you’ll get some sleep. Okay?”

She managed a small smile, and reached out to caress my hand. “Alright. I promise. Now go: Your public awaits.”

I returned the smile, feeling it about as much as she did, then I left.

“What’s the situation, Lieutenant?”

The tall body-armored policeman glanced up. “Ah, good, you’re here! Come with me.”

I followed the lieutenant back around the roadblock set up in front of city hall, to a large navy blue police S.W.A.T. van. Several men were talking just inside, and all of them stopped to stare at me when we approached. “Gentlemen, and lady,” I said, nodding to the single woman in S.W.A.T. team gear, “I heard you have a problem. Can someone fill me in?”

The officers, all of them in their mid-thirties at least, groaned. “Ah, geez, Steele, you brought us a KID? What are ya, crazy or something?” The speaker, a large block-shaped slab of a man with a thick black mustache glared at me. “No offense, kid, but when I told the lieutenant here that we could use some help of the Super Hero kind, I was expecting someone like... Omega Girl, or Armor Man, or something. Maybe you should just go back home, and let us handle this ourselves.”

Okay. Okay. Just for the record, NOTHING ticks me off more than when I’m dismissed and treated like a kid! I’m able to legally buy my own beer, drive a car, vote... all the things the ‘grown-ups’ get to do, and yet because I’m small, thin, and wiry, every immediately dismisses me as a kid! There was a time long ago, before my powers first emerged, when I used to be picked on at school, bullied by the other kids because of my size. After the third or fourth time I came home with bruises and black eyes, my cousin Jonny came to visit me. About fifteen years my senior, he was an ensign first class in the navy, with a form that looked like he’d been chiseled from solid granite. A two-time Golden Gloves champ, he taught me how to defend myself, how to hold my own in a fight, but more than that, he taught me to stand up for myself.

Staring back at the older man, I replied back with “If you could handle it yourselves, your lieutenant wouldn’t have had to contact me in the first place. Don’t worry about me, I can take care of myself. Now, if you’ll kindly explain the situation to me, I can get this over and done with.” The look on the old man’s face was priceless.

“Alright,” the woman, whose nametag read “JONES” spoke up after a moment. “Basically, its a hostage situation. Suspect claims to have Mayor Penfield and his two daughters inside, as well as several others. He’s demanding thirty million dollars in negotiable bearer bonds or he says he’ll kill the hostages and blow up City Hall.”

Thirty million dollars? In a moment of whimsy, I remembered Chris Tucker’s reaction in the movie Rush Hour: Who the hell do you think you’ve kidnapped, Chelsea Clinton? Trying to maintain an aura of professionalism, I said, “I see. And we have every reason to believe he’ll carry out his threat?”

“Yeah.” The grumpy mustached SWAT member gestured to a small body-shaped bundle covered with a tarp a few feet away. “He shot one of the hostages in the head, and tossed him out the door to prove himself. One of our sharpshooters across the street spotted him, with what appeared to be a detonator in his hand. So, yes, we’re taking him to be very serious with his threat to blow them all to kingdom come if his demands aren’t met.”

Lovely. Just lovely. I knew I should have stayed in the hospital with Roni... “Okay. The guys a psycho. Got it. Anything else I should know before I go in there? Do you have any Intel on this guy, who he is, why he’s doing this? Any chance he has accomplices in there with him?”

“We just told you everything we know at the moment, pal,” a tall thin blonde-haired officer retorted. “What were you expecting, hero? If this was EASY we wouldn’t have called for the help!”

“That’s enough, Johnson,” Lieutenant Steel barked. “In case you’ve forgotten, Super Sonic is here to HELP us with this fiasco. Maybe YOU would rather be the one charging in there instead of him?” He glared at the SWAT team members. “Or maybe you, Mahoney? Or you, Fitz?” Silence was their only response. “Thought so. Now then... how about we get set up to give this brave young man some support? Fitz, I want you and Johnson to join Franklin up high, one at three, six, and nine. Roberts, I want you and Jones to help keep these damned spectators back. Mahoney, Simms, and Edwards, I want you three up front, ready to breech the instant I give the word.”

I gulped slightly as the older, experienced officers took their positions. I was starting to get nervous now, despite everything I’d done in the past, all the dangers I’d faced. My hands were starting to sweat inside my gloves, and my stomach was starting to do back flips. It was strange. I mean, I’ve done tons of things more dangerous than this. The perp was just a normal human being, crazy, yes, suicidal, maybe... but all in all, NORMAL. No laser beam-shooting eyes, no ice, or fire, or lightning shot from his arse.

The guy probably doesn’t even have pulse guns. The hostage he killed was shot point-black with a .22, so at worst, I’ll have to dodge a few bullets and avoid getting blown up. There’s risk, sure, but not much of a chance I’ll end up back in the hospital again...

And that’s when it hits me. The sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, the sweats, the shakes... I’m scared. I’m actually scared. Don’t get me wrong, I’m usually a little scared when I’m facing someone who is trying to kill me. Anyone would be. The hero who claims not to be even slightly scared when looking death in the eye is either a liar or insane.

Still... this is different. This is the bad kind of fear... the kind that could make you freeze up at the wrong moment. Is it because of what happened at the hotel all those weeks ago? I nearly died then... hell, it was only luck that Shinobi decided to try and fry my brain with her PsyShock instead of simply slitting my throat when she had the chance... the backlash broke her out of her own trance, and realizing what she’d done, she gratefully rushed my limp form off to the nearest hospital emergency room.

There are so many reasons why I shouldn’t be standing here right now.

“Hey, Sonic, you ready?” Steele asks from in front of the City Hall steps.

“Yeah, yeah,” I reply, running over to him. “Just... psyching myself up, that’s all.”

Heh. Psyching myself OUT, more likely. I really need to just get a grip. On the list of most dangerous things I’ve done this week, this really isn’t even in the top ten. With my hi-powered hearing, I can get a fix on all of the hostages and perp once I get within range. A few well-placed sonic blasts and he’ll go down for the count. If he somehow gets the drop on me, I’m fast enough to dodge a bullet or two, at least enough to draw his fire away from the hostages, and give the boys in blue enough time to storm the building.

The part about blowing up the building... okay, well, THAT part worries me.

As I make my way to the back entrance, Lieutenant Steele begins his distraction, yelling out through his megaphone for the kidnapper to give up and surrender. Personally, I’ve always wondered about that approach. If a guy was going to go through all the time and effort involved in committing a crime, knowing the consequences and repercussions if they are caught, why the heck would they simply give up just because the cops ASKED them to? It never works in the movies, at least.

Reaching the door, I closed my eyes, letting my senses sharper, toning out the outside sounds. Touching the door, I sent a small subsonic pulse through the building, letting my mind process the echo pattern as it came back. Ahhh... hmmm... sounds like... three people in the main lobby... no... make that four... one of them with a lot of gear around him... and metal... must be the bad guy... hmmmm... and further back, softer... one, two... five... yeah, twelve people all in a group. Must be the hostages. Great... but... hmmm... wait a minute... beep, beep, beep... ah, shit... guess he wasn’t lying about having a bomb in there, either.

Right then, I’m tempted to head back away from the building... to let Steele know about the bomb, that is. Not that I was going to turn tail and run away! Still, I learned a long time ago to trust my gut instincts, and right now my gut was apparently trying its best to make its way back over to the front of the building, whether the rest of my body moved with it or not.

C’mon Parker! Pull yourself together, man! People are counting on you!

Setting up a counter-sound field around the door in case of squeaky hinges, I slip silently into the building. Glancing left and right, I send out another subsonic pulse, just to make sure Laughing Boy is still occupied. I make my way down the hallway, stopping at the crossway across from the stairs leading to the first floor. A soft electronic humming catches my attention, just in time, and I stop just in time to notice two small flat narrow bars leaning up against each side of the doorway, each with wires leading from the bottom.

Heh. Homemade IR sensors... probably linked to plastic explosives on the other side of the wall. Damn, this guy is pretty good. I’d be willing to bet he set up similar traps at each hallway leading in to him, in case the police get antsy and try to rush in. I’m going to have to find a way to warn Lieutenant Steel.

Of course, I still had to get past this little trap myself. Having an idea of the building’s layout, I figured I could simply go upstairs, head down the hall a bit, go to the central elevator, take the car back down to the ground floor while masking the motor’s sounds. That would put me behind him, somewhere near the back hallway where the rest of the hostages were being kept.

About that time, the kidnapper returned from the doorway where he’d been yelling insults back at the police. I had just enough presence of mind to notice the line of wires running through his jacket—shit, he had even wired HIMSELF with explosives—before he noticed MY presence. He paused and turned, staring directly at me.

“SHIT!” we both yelled at the same time. Raising his gun, he fired off three quick shots, using his other hand to dig around in his jacket pocket. Out of time, out of options, I did the only thing I could think of. Raising my own hand, I fired off a sonic blast, aiming for a head shot, trying to stun him without setting off the vest. I dove backwards even as I let fly my energy, barely missing the two slugs that tore into the wall where I’d been standing. My momentum caused my blast to miss his head; however, luck was still with me, as, at moment, his hand pulled free from his pocket, clutching the remote detonator. Concentrated concussive force hit steel, plastic, and silicon, causing the device to shatter in his hand.

“FUUUUCCCCKKK!!” he screamed, falling to the ground, clutching his mangled hand possessively. “My hand! MY HAAANND!”

Good. He was down, at least for the moment, but I still had bigger concerns. Extending my hearing, I heard the rapid step approach of booted feet, heading towards the building. Pitching my voice at the frequency of a radio carrier signal, I sent back to Steel: “STOP! Tell your men to fall back! The doors are booby trapped!” Or at least I hoped that was a carrier signal frequency. Kind of stupid to try something like that on the fly. I’d never tried it before, the message might not have been received, and for all I knew I might have just yelled out in the specific frequency of the bomb’s radio detonator.

When a sea of blue uniforms did NOT flood the building, I let out the breath I was holding. The bomb didn’t go off either, I told myself. But it still might, if I don’t act quickly. The IR gate was roughly 3 feet high, running from the floor up. There was no space to slide underneath it, and as fast as I am, I’m not faster than the speed of light, so I wasn’t going to be able to run through it. Taking a few steps back, I rushed towards it at top speed, then pushed off at the last second, leaping OVER the laser grid. I hit the ground hard, skidding and sliding across the smooth marble floor, no doubt bruising my newly healed arm.

But at least I hadn’t been blown to bits.

The kidnapper, still clutching his mangled hand, was crawling, on his free hand and knees, towards the elevator. I was tempted to just walk over and sock him in the back of the head... but I let it got for the moment. The detonator was gone, so he couldn’t blow himself and the rest of the hostages up. Besides, the intense pain and anguish from his hand had no doubt instilled within him a sudden deeper awareness of his life, and how much he valued it. He wouldn’t find escape through the elevator, though; the police were still covering all the exits, and soon as the kidnapped made himself a target, a sniper would no doubt drop him.

Instead, I made my way over to the desk in front of the foyer. I recognized the mayor immediately from the news photos. Gagged and bound as he was, his clothed rumpled and sweat-soaked, he certainly presented a less imposing figure than he did on TV. “Relax, Mayor,” I said calmly, as I began untying the ropes. “I’m getting you and your daughters out of here.”

The mayor nodded violently. Soon as his hands were free, he leapt from his chair, moving to help untie his daughters as well. “Thank God you’re here!” he enthused, his nervous fingers fumbling over the knots. “That man... he’s crazy! He was really going to kill me... kills us all!”

“Well, he still might, if we don’t get you guys out of here, and quickly,” I replied, gesturing behind me. “He’s down, but he’s not out.” I found myself smiling as daughter number one, freed from her bonds, rose from her chair and turned to face me. Brunette haired, brown eyes, long legged... suddenly my stomach was doing flip-flops that had nothing to do with fear of death.

“Here, let me help you untie Jennifer,” she said, kneeling down at the floor, to untie her sister’s feet. The position gave me a rather nice view of her... ahem... assets. The sound of the Mayor clearing his throat brought be back to reality, and I turned to find his disapproving glare at the way I’d been ogling his daughter.

“Ah, um, sorry. I was distracted,” I added, lamely. Sighing deeply, I stood back up. “Okay. Head out the front door. Lieutenant Steele and the River City SWAT team is waiting just outside the door. Just watch your step at the entrance—this guy, whomever he is, set up plastic explosives and IR sensors at all the other doorways.”

“But... what about you?” Jennifer, daughter number two, a lovely blonde, asked. “Aren’t you coming with us?”

Well, with an invitation like that, I just might... “No, I have to free the other hostages. Tell the lieutenant he can send his men in through the front entrance ONLY... and that he’ll likely want to call for a bomb disposal team to take down the traps along the hallways.”

I must have sounded as if I knew what I was talking about, because the mayor and his daughters obeyed instantly, getting up, making their way quickly but carefully through the lobby and out to the entrance. I had no idea what sort of blockade he’d set up for the front door, and I didn’t have time to look at it, but whatever it was, it was obvious enough that the kidnapper could walk past it without setting it off. At any rate, the mayor and his girls made it outside without setting off any booby traps.

I then turned back towards the hallway. The one-armed bandit was gone, no doubt taking the elevator up to the roof in a mad plan to escape. The police would handle him. Sprinting down the hallway, I stopped at the main room’s doorway, which was, again, lined with IR sensors and plastic explosives. “Why is nothing easy ever simple?”

“HELP! HELP UP!”

The hostages, huddled up against the far corner of the room, sat up at the sound of my voice. Seeing my costume, recognizing me instantly as someone who was there to help, they rushed the doorway. “STOP!” I yelled out, holding up a hand. “WAIT! Hold it!” I let out a sigh of relief as they do, actually stop. I was half afraid I’d have to stun blast the lot of them to keep them from tripping the beams. “I took care of the kidnapper and freed the mayor and his daughters. Now we just need to get you guys out of here. But first, I have to... um... defuse the bombs he put along the doorway here.” I shrug. “Any chance, any of you is a bomb disposal expert?”

Stunned silence was the only response I received. Ah, hell... well, hopefully I can’t be TOO complicated, right? And I’ve played enough video games and watched enough movies to know how this all works... I just need to disconnect the trigger from the actual bomb. Dropping down to one knee, I studied the mechanism. Okay... okay... two wires going from the unit into the side of a brick of C4... damn.. both wires are red... so... which one do I cut? Eenie Meenie Miney Moe isn’t going to cut it...

Just then, the elevator bell dinged. I glanced back up the hall as Lefty stumbled into view. Blood was pooling from his mouth and ears, and a wide insane grin stretched his lips. “If I have to die,” he rasped, holding up another remote control in his good hand, “you’re all coming with me!” Laughing insanely, he pressed the button.

“GET BACK!” I yelled to the hostages, running towards them. I had an idea—a wild, crazy, frantically desperate idea—something that I would NEVER have thought to try if I had anything more than a second or two left to act. Ignoring anything resembling sanity, I sprinted into the room, breaking the infrared beams, gathering up as much sonic energy as I could. I slapped the triggers on my belt at the same time, activating my iPOD, sending 30 dB of hard rock music through my suit’s built in speakers, further upping the ante. I skidded to a stop in the center of the group of hostages, letting loose with everything I had just as the building exploded...