The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Jezz shook her head. The brown-haired, athletic-looking woman stepped in front of the shorter and thinner old man and held up her hand.

“No, Edge. Don’t do it.”

“Stand back, apprentice.”

“But they cannot possibly be prepared for one of your skill, sensei.”

“Then the fault lies with their teachers.”

“But master, they—“

“Enough, apprentice. Now be silent.”

Jezz sighed and stepped to the side.

Edge examined the ranged weapon in his hand. He balanced the object on his palm, felt its properties, its lines, its shape. The steel point extended for perhaps an inch, the opposite end feathered. The shaft was poorly made, but serviceable.

It would do. It would have to.

To the casual eye, Edge appeared to be about 80 years old. Although Jezz knew he was much older. To the casual eye, Edge appeared thin, almost to the point of frailty. Although Jezz knew he was frail in much the same way an urban assault vehicle is frail. He was Asian in appearance, with a surprisingly full head of white hair that extended just past his shoulders and a goatee that dangled several inches from his chin. Only a few inches over 5 feet, he appeared to walk only with the help of a wooden staff that was as tall as he was. Although Jezz knew he could walk perfectly well without it.

And now Edge faced a challenge…a challenge he refused to back away from. Still holding the weapon, he gauged the distance to the target. Then, his eyes narrowed, he drew back his hand and slung the weapon forward.

The dart sailed true and struck the exact center of the balloon. Edge’s victory was trumpeted with a sudden ‘pop!’.

“That’s one,” announced the carnie in a bored tone.

Four more darts immediately followed the carnie’s announcement. Four consecutive pops sounded.

“We have a winner,” said the carnie, not bothering to look at the board.

Edge narrowed his eyes at the carnie. He then switched hands and used his left hand to fling darts at the target board. Five consecutive pops sounded.

“We have…another winner,” said the carnie, appearing a bit more impressed with the old man having apparently used his opposite hand without missing.

Edge then turned around and flung 5 darts over his shoulder. Again five consecutive pops sounded.

Then Edge closed his eyes and flung his final 5 darts over his shoulder. Five more consecutive pops resounded.

“We have…another…winner…” said the carnie, clearly at a loss for words.

“I have won, yes?” said Edge.

“Yeah,” said the carnie. “Uhh…pick your prize.”

“I choose the blue elephant,” said Edge.

“Winner gets the blue elephant!” said the carnie, picking up the large stuffed animal. He handed it to Jezz across the counter.

Edge beamed as he turned away from the carnival dart game. Jezz followed him.

Typical carnival sounds surrounded them as they made their way across the grounds. Children squealing, hoots and hollers, bells ringing, sirens going off, the clicking and clacking of various rides. Music from merry-go-rounds, carnies hawking their games and wares, pops and whistles resounding. A wealth of food aromas brought the setting to life as well, with the smell of carnival staples everywhere.

Catching up to Edge, Jezz said, “Why do I have to carry this thing? It’s your prize.”

Edge made no move to take the giant stuffed animal. “It is your duty as student to bear your teacher’s burdens.”

“Well, fine, but stop winning giant prizes,” said Jezz. “Win smaller things.”

Edge pretended not to hear her. He stopped before another series of game booths.

“Aha!” said Edge. “Perhaps there is challenge to be found here.”

Jezz said, “Unlikely, sensei. These are just stupid carnival games.”

“I see,” said Edge. “So you are so versed in all things that you know what does or does not constitute as training.”

“Training?” said Jezz. “Carnival games do not constitute training.”

“I see,” repeated Edge. “Since you have obviously learned everything required to be a master, then you will have no trouble showing that you are the match of your feeble teacher in these non-training activities, yes?”

Jezz paused, allowing no expression to cross her features. She recognized that tone.

“Perhaps I was mistaken, sensei,” she said carefully. “The variable conditions do, after all, present a challenge unlikely to be overcome by a mere apprentice who is still—“

“You are far too modest, student,” Edge cut in. “What would I, an elderly, feeble teacher, know of the extent of your abilities? You are surely correct. In fact, I have an idea!”

Jezz’s eyes widened slightly. “No, sensei, I assure you, there is no need for—“

“Silence, apprentice,” said Edge. He indicated the row of carnival booths with a wave of his long-nailed fingers. “Here you will show your unmeasurable skill, matching—or no doubt surpassing—your instructor’s feeble efforts.”

“Sensei, this is not—“

“Do not argue, apprentice. False modesty is unbecoming, is it not? I am positive you will prove the equal or better of your teacher. Of course, should you fail to do so,” said Edge, in a casual manner, “I would be most humiliated as your instructor. In fact, I would certainly be forced to discipline you in such a manner so as to remind you of your place.”

Jezz sighed. There was no way she could best Edge in these games, since he would never miss. Her only chance was to match him in every game. Every single one.

They started at the first booth, which was occupied by a game requiring the participant to knock down a stack of heavy milk bottles with a softball. Edge threw his softball with little apparent effort, but struck the milk bottles with so much force that even the carnie looked surprised. All six milk bottles were knocked down.

Edge, who managed to make himself look even older and more feeble, gave a shrug and said, “Mere luck, I am sure.”

Jezz sighed. She picked up the softball and held it aloft for a moment. She was pretty sure it was full of cork and therefore lighter than a traditional softball. No doubt the milk bottles were made of lead or an equally heavy metal, making this game impossible to win.

Unless one had training, of course.

Jezz made an underhanded throw, making it look as casual as possible to the untrained eye, but in actuality giving it a twist of steam. She smiled in satisfaction as the milk bottles missiled in various directions.

“A winner!” said the carnie, looking even more shocked. “Two winners, in fact! Pick your prizes!”

Next was the basketball shot. Edge made ten consecutive shots and Jezz matched him shot-for-shot. The bean bag toss was next. Edge shot his bean bags into the 500-point hole ten consecutive times, and Jezz again matched him shot-for-shot. The next booth involved tossing a softball into a tilted basket, and Jezz once again matched Edge each time.

Down the row they went, game after game, collecting prizes from the incredulous carnies. Jezz now carried over twenty stuffed animals of various sizes, as well as a number of small games and decorative mirrors. Her upper body was barely visible behind the pile of prizes.

The final game was the ring toss. A large grid of bottles stood upright. The game consisted of tossing rings around the protruding necks of the bottles to win prizes. They each received five rings.

Edge tossed his rings in rapid succession. Not only did he manage to land each ring on a bottleneck, he had landed all five rings on the same bottle. He turned to Jezz with a humble look.

“Such luck!” he said. “Despite my not being nearly as skilled as my obviously superior apprentice.”

Jezz sighed, then began tossing her rings in rapid succession. As she did so, however, Edge suddenly emitted a piercing shriek, then swung a flattened hand toward her, followed by a sweeping kick.

Jezz had been prepared for such a maneuver, however, and she shifted, allowing her teacher’s extended fingers to barely brush the side of her neck, and then she leaped over Edge’s sweeping foot.

There was silence for a moment. Then the carnie—who was obviously anxious to get the old guy and his granddaughter or whoever she was away from his booth—said, “And we have another winner! All five rings on the same bottle! How about a hand for these two, folks!”

Jezz was careful not to look smug as she collected the prizes from the carnie. She was well aware that had Edge chosen so, she would not have been able to avoid the blows as she had.

In terms of carrying stuffed animals and prizes, Jezz was at maximum capacity. Only through careful stacking and holding multiple items together with the perfect amount of pressure was she able to carry all the loot.

“I could use a little help here,” said Jezz, barely able to see around the pile of stuffed animals.

“Indeed you could,” said Edge, who had been surly since the finish of the ring toss game. “Indeed, you require a great deal of help. But as your teacher, I can only do so much. Once cannot make a diamond from mud.”

Jezz clenched her teeth and continued on.

They were now moving through a relatively quiet rest area of the carnival populated by picnic tables. Three guys approached from the opposite direction. They looked at the pile of stuffed animals heading toward them, then laughed as they realized the moving pile with the human legs beneath it was a woman.

“Hey, Clyde,” said the guy in front. “Ever see a pile of walking stuffed toys have such a nice ass?”

“Nope,” said Clyde. “Sure haven’t, Gary. But are you sure it’s a nice ass? There’re a bunch of toys blocking the view, you know? Am I right, Billy?”

“He’s got a point, Gary,” said the third guy. “Hard to tell from here, you know?”

The three guys now stood next to Jezz, all staring at the back of Jezz’s athletic stretch pants. Aware that her hands were full and therefore having no convenient way to stop him, Gary reached out and cupped Jezz’s rounded rear end. Then he smiled. “Well, my research so far has confirmed that this pile of stuffed toys does indeed have a nice ass.”

Jezz said politely, “May I be momentarily excused from bearing your burden, sensei? I need to beat some sense into these idiots.”

Edge said, “I cannot find fault with them. I have no doubt your swelled bottom would serve far better as a vessel of pleasure than as the jiggling focal point of a warrior. Still, if you feel the need to punish them, you are free to do so, but you are not free of the task I have set you to.”

Jezz clenched her teeth in frustration. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll do it the hard way.”

Gary continued cupping her bottom, paying little attention to the exchange between Jezz and Edge. Jezz got his attention, however, by shifting slightly, whirling and bringing her opposite foot across Gary’s jaw. Gary’s head snapped sideways and he stumbled back, holding his cheek.

“Hey!” said Clyde, looking at Billy. “What a bitch!”

“Yeah!” said Billy. “Let’s get that pile of toys!”

Clyde ran at Jezz and tried to tackle her, but she stepped to the side, causing Clyde to miss completely. As she moved, however, a stuffed tiger dropped from the top of the pile in Jezz’s arms. Just as it was about to hit the ground, Jezz’s foot shot out and kicked the stuffed animal straight up into the air. Jezz then spun, avoiding a charge by the equally inept Billy, and then positioned herself directly underneath the dropping tiger. The stuffed animal landed on top of the pile.

Edge said, “I don’t recall freeing you from your task, apprentice.”

Jezz said, “It didn’t touch the ground, sensei. I’m still performing my task.”

Edge grunted.

Gary tried to grab Jezz from behind, but she leaned forward and angled a back kick into his jaw, causing him to stumble backward and tumble to the ground. Jezz whirled and caught a purple monkey on her foot. She flipped the monkey off her foot into the air, then spun and kicked Clyde in the stomach.

A large stuffed yellow starfish dropped from the top of the pile. Jezz caught the starfish on her knee, then snapped her foot out, kicking the monkey back into the air. She used her knee to toss the starfish up, then spun and used the sole of her foot to back-kick the starfish into the air. She snap-kicked the now-attacking Billy in the jaw, then kicked the monkey back into the air. She caught the starfish on top of the pile, whirled and back-kicked Clyde, then kicked a falling stuffed spider into the air.

The rest area was empty save for Edge, Jezz and her combatants, but had anyone been watching, they would have been treated to the unusual sight of a woman fighting two men, using only her feet, while holding a huge number of carnival prizes and kicking numerous stuffed animals into the air in an apparent effort to keep them from striking the ground.

One could only keep up such a feat for a limited time, however, and Jezz knew she needed to end this soon. She whirled again, kicking Clyde in the stomach hard enough to drop him to his knees gasping, his face changing color. She kicked two more stuffed animals in the air, caught a third, and kicked Billy in the jaw hard enough to drop him, his eyes glazed. Then she spun and caught the remaining stuffed animals on top of the pile in her arms.

Jezz stood at the ready for a few moments, but the belligerence had been beaten from her opponents. They groaned and rolled to their feet slowly. Jezz watched them limp away, then turned back to Edge, still carefully balancing the pile of carnival prizes in front of her.

“All finished, sensei,” said Jezz, trying to keep from sounding smug. “And I did it without interrupting my task, which was, of course, the most important thing.”

“You have failed, apprentice,” said Edge, pointing, “and in doing so, have embarrassed me.”

“I did no such thing, sensei!” said Jezz. Then she followed Edge’s pointing finger.

On the ground lay a stuffed blue elephant.

“Oh, crap,” said Jezz. She took a step back until she felt her backside press against a picnic table. “Now wait, sensei. You can’t punish me now. I mean, I’m still performing your task, right?”

Unable to back up any further, she kept the pile of stuffed animals between her and Edge, reasoning that Edge wouldn’t do anything that would risk his hard-earned prizes.

Edge, recognizing what Jezz was doing, paused only for a second before striking a direct blow to the middle of the stuffed animals. Despite the strength of the blow, however, not a single stuffed animal was damaged.

Jezz gasped as a sudden vibration strummed through her. She wanted to move to the side, tried to do so, but realized she was too late. Far too late. She couldn’t move at all.

Jezz knew then that Edge had used…Dim Mak. He had projected his power and ability through a medium to deliver the blow. But instead of using brick, he had somehow used stuff animals. And now she couldn’t move.

Edge spun Jezz around so that she fell forward onto her belly on the picnic table. He caught all the stuffed animals in his other arm in the same move. None of the stuffed animals fell to the ground. He set them carefully on the table’s bench seat. Then he stepped behind Jezz.

Jezz felt Edge’s hands on the waistband of her stretch pants, felt his pointed fingernails lightly scape her skin as he slid her stretch pants over her hips and down her thighs, felt the wind blowing across her now bare bottom, across the back of her thighs. She wanted to protest, tried to protest, but she couldn’t move. She couldn’t even close her mouth. All she could do was drool.

And then she felt her sensei’s hands on her hips, felt a thickness pressing between her rounded butt cheeks, and she knew what was coming.

There was a pressure now against her rear opening, a growing pressure. Jezz could normally clench her sphincter muscle so tightly that no object could penetrate her there, but Edge’s Dim Mak strike had taken away her muscle control. She could only lay there drooling as Edge’s cock pressed unhindered into her back passage.

Jezz could feel herself blushing as Edge slowly buried his cock in her ass. Her sensei looked to be around 80 years old—and Jezz knew him to be much older—but his cock was the size and thickness of someone much younger and bigger. And he knew how to use it with far more power and ability.

Jezz felt him press fully inside her, her completely relaxed sphincter wrapped firmly around the base of Edge’s cock. And then Jezz felt her sensei begin stroking his dick back and forth inside her tightly-packed ass.

Edge’s high-pitched laughter sounded as he pounded his apprentice’s rounded backside. Jezz blushed even brighter as the sound of Edge’s pelvis slapping her firm cheeks echoed in the quiet rest area. She could only hope the area remained deserted.

And then she felt Edge’s hands tighten slightly on her hips and she knew things were about to become even more embarrassing.

Edge’s piercing laughter continued unabated as he began ejaculating inside her tight back passage. She could feel his rock-hard cock throbbing as he shot load after load of hot, sticky sperm into her ass. Had she been able to move, her muscle control would have allowed her to clamp on his dick so tightly, he wouldn’t have been able to shoot a single drop inside her, but his Dim Mak blow had paralyzed her completely. She could only lay there drooling and take his full load.

Unfortunately for Jezz, a full load from Edge was far, far more than a full load from a typical person. He remained behind her, his cock buried inside her ass, as he came continuously for over a minute. When he was done—when he decided he was done—Edge stepped back, pulling his still-hard cock from her abused rear opening with an embarrassing pop.

“Ha!” said Edge, slapping her bare ass. Her firm, athletic cheeks quivered slightly. “It is as I said. Your soft buttocks serve far better as a vessel of pleasure than the focal point of a warrior.”

Edge then struck a spot that released Jezz from her paralysis. Jezz shifted slightly, immediately clenching her rear opening as tightly as possible. This ability would be very important to her dignity for the next hour or two until she was able to get home. Then she slowly straightened.

“Dammit, Edge!” she said. “You didn’t have to do it that long! I can barely walk now!”

Edge assumed a lofty expression. “It builds character, apprentice.”

Jezz opened her mouth to retort, but a voice cut in then, saying, “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

Jezz turned, then shook her head as if her day couldn’t have gotten any worse, but somehow did. “Oh. It’s you. Again.”

The nondescript man standing in front of her offered a charming smile. He had a cotton candy in one hand and a lemon snow-cone in the other. “Beautiful day for a carnival, isn’t it? I love carnivals myself. Music, food, great smells. How about you? Don’t you just love carnivals?”

Jezz did not smile in return. “What do you want, Garage?”

The man she knew only as Mr. Garage continued smiling. He appeared to be average in all respects. Average height, average weight. Well-groomed, but not overly so. Well-dressed, but not overly so. Nothing about him stood out in any way. Were you to ask anyone about him after he had left, they would be hard-pressed to remember anything, any kind of detail about him.

“You’re just an adorable ray of sunshine today, aren’t you?” said Mr. Garage. “Fine. To business then. I want to hire you for a job.”

Jezz said, “Stand in line.”

Mr. Garage glanced around, then chuckled and said, “I’m sorry. Is your calendar that backed up?”

Jezz narrowed her eyes at the inflection in his voice. “Whatever. What’s the job, Garage?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” said Mr. Garage, sliding onto the picnic table bench. “Care to join me? Or do you prefer to stand?”

“I’ll stand.”

Mr. Garage nodded. “I don’t blame you. All things considered.”

Jezz’s eyes narrowed again. “All what things considered?” she said, in a low, dangerous tone.

“Considering what a beautiful day it is,” said Mr. Garage. “Moving on. There’s been a number of missing people reported lately.”

“I’m listening.”

“We’ve heard a few things lately. There are always rumors, you know?” Mr. Garage paused for a moment to put some cotton candy in his mouth before continuing. “And the one thing that most of the missing people have in common in some trendy discothèque in West Chrystal Heights.”

Jezz gave Mr. Garage a look. “You just used ‘trendy’ and ‘discothèque’ in the same sentence. Was that intentional?”

Mr. Garage shrugged. “So sue me,” he said. “There’s no accounting for taste. Anyway, we sent in a couple agents. Three female agents, to be exact.”

“Yeah?” said Jezz. “They find anything?”

“Probably,” said the non-descript man.

“Yeah? What?”

Mr. Garage said, “No way of knowing . After the first night, they stopped reporting in.”

Jezz stared. “All three?”

Mr. Garage nodded. “Correct. So we sent in another pair of agents. Good ones. Not that the first three weren’t, but they were green. This was a veteran team. A male and female team.”

Jezz said, “And they disappeared too?”

The man shook his head. “No, they haven’t disappeared. They’re still on the job, in fact.”

“What do you mean?”

Mr. Garage sighed. “They report in every night. Just like they’re supposed to.”

Jezz rolled her eyes. “Am I gonna have to drag the story out of you, Garage? If they’re there and still on the job, then what’s the problem?”

Mr. Garage said, “Something didn’t smell right. So I decided to take a look at things myself. Scope out the scene, you know? So I waited outside the club. And after a while, I see my two agents walk out. And I realize immediately that something is wrong.”

“Go on.”

“What was wrong,” said Mr. Garage, “was that the female agent was dressed and talking like a Valley Girl out of the ’80s.”

Jezz blinked. “Valley Girl?” she said. “You mean the ‘Like, omigod!’ kind of Valley Girl…?”

Mr. Garage took another bite of cotton candy, then said, “That’s exactly what I mean.”

Jezz said, “And the male agent?”

“He had…” Mr. Garage paused, then forced himself to continue. “He had…a mullet.”

Jezz whistled softly.

Mr. Garage nodded. “Exactly. That was last night. And that’s why I’m here today.”

“A mullet,” said Jezz. “Wow. So mind-control is definitely in play here. No wonder you came to us.”

“Yeah. So you in?”

Jezz said, “What’s the pay?”

Mr. Garage named a figure. Jezz nodded.

“Fine,” she said. “In cash.”

“Don’t trust me?”

“Nope.”

“I find your lack of faith disturbing, Legs.”

“Don’t make me break something important to you, Garage,” said Jezz. “Now let’s wrap it up. I really have to get home. Immediately,” she said, narrowing eyes briefly at Edge.

“Fine,” said Mr. Garage. “Here’s the address of the discotheque. It’s called ‘Isotope’. Oh, and by the way…”

Jezz looked at the man expectantly.

Mr. Garage nodded his head at Edge. “The old guy knocked that elephant off your pile while you were kicking those guys in the head.”

It took Jezz a moment to process what Garage had just said. Then she whirled and glared at Edge, who stared back impassively.

When she turned back to Garage, he was gone.

Several hours later, Jezz and Edge stood outside Isotope, the ominously trendy discothèque.

Edge looked at Jezz, then said, “You should tell me again why you are dressed like that. There is no combat advantage to such apparel.”

Jezz, who approved of her clothing even less than Edge, grumbled, “No shit, Sherlock.”

Edge said, “I’m sure I misheard you, apprentice.”

Jezz sighed. “Sorry, sensei. These high-waisted pants with the flared-out legs are disco pants. The tube top isn’t ideal, but with the wrapping underneath, it should keep the puppies from tumbling out during a brawl and creating imbalance. The shoes are essentially wooden clogs. I can kick them off quickly if action is called for.”

“You were fortunate to find such pants as can contain your voluminous rear end,” observed Edge.

“Lucky me,” said Jezz dryly.

“Still, it is perhaps good fortune your bottom possesses such mass,” said Edge. “It will soften your fall when you trip over that silly footwear.”

Jezz rolled her eyes. “Yes, sensei.”

“You are doubly fortunate that your plan does not call for such lunacy from me.”

“It is a ’70s setting, sensei,” said Jezz. “Your robes will suffice.”

Edge watched the crowd flowing into the club. “The men’s plumage is possibly even more colorful than the women.”

Jezz shrugged. “The 70s was a strange era,” said Jezz, “with equally strange fashion.”

“Indeed,” said Edge. “Is that one dressed in yellow supposed to be a pump?”

“A what?”

“A pump.”

“Oh,” said Jezz. “You mean pimp. No, he’s not a pimp. See that guy over there? With the white cape and the shoes with the goldfish in them? He’s a pimp. Well, a pimp wanna-be, anyway. All right, let’s make our move inside.”

Once inside, they paused to take in their surroundings. The Bee Gees “Stayin’ Alive” blared as people of all ages danced on a black-and-white checkerboard floor. Colorful spotlights created blue, orange, red and green moving circles around the dance area while a glittering disco ball twirled overhead, creating a moving starburst effect on the surrounding walls and carpet. Those who weren’t dancing were seated at surrounding tables or along the glitzy bar, sipping brightly colored drinks. Against the far wall was a raised DJ booth, in which a glitzy-dressed man with an impossibly tall top hat could be seen moving within.

Jezz glanced around, looking for an enemy she felt was near, but couldn’t identify. Despite the festive nature of the surroundings, there was an ominous intensity in the air. No one was looking at them, no one was doing anything suspicious, but her every instinct was on edge.

The music changed and suddenly “The Hustle”, by Van McCoy and the Soul City Symphony, was instructing everybody to do its dance. The dance floor occupants scurried like ants and formed lines. They then began performing the dance moves in perfect sync.

Jezz watched as the whole group danced non-stop in lockstep. Everyone smiled, sequins glittering, as they performed the moves as one. The party atmosphere the song created couldn’t overcome the eeriness inherent in having dozens of people move in perfect sync and smile at you as they did so.

Jezz said, “Something’s wrong.”

“Your powers of observation astonish, apprentice,” said Edge.

“I’m serious,” said Jezz. “This song isn’t meant to be a line dance. And no one has left the floor. Not a single person. And for that matter, no one has jumped in, either.”

Edge said, “I would not seek to confuse your analysis with facts, apprentice, but there is no surprise in what you state. That horrible noise you’ve been referring to as music is a tool of control. Have you not felt the waves attempting to alter your patterns of thought?”

Jezz’s eyes went straight to the control booth. The DJ was looking directly at her, his eyes amused under his impossibly tall top hat. He gave her a smile.

Then the music changed again. This time it was Donna Summers’ “Last Dance.”

Jezz said, “We’ve been made. Get ready.”

The DJ’s voice suddenly sounded. “All right, Isotopers! It’s Doc Hatter here and it is time for us to say hello to some guests! Did I say guests? Onononono! A Bozo nono! ’Cuz our guests are…The Man! That’s right…it’s time to take down The Man! Groovy, baby! Take it to the max! Can you dig it? Let’s give them a warm Isotope welcome! Oh, yeah yeah, baby! Can you dig it? Can you dig-dig-dig-dig-dig it?”

The lights started whirling in a new pattern, with the twirling glitter ball reflecting the edged colors everywhere. The ambience turned surreal and it seemed everyone was moving in slow motion. As one the crowd on the floor moved toward Jezz and Edge.

And then Rick Dees “Disco Duck” began playing.

Jezz narrowed her eyes at the DJ booth. “’Disco Duck’?!” she yelled. “You went too far!”

The DJ Doc Hatter gave Jezz a smug grin.

The first of the disco dancers lay their hands on Jezz and Edge, and the student and master went to work. The sheer weight of numbers made the early going somewhat difficult, but as more and more of the disco drones fell to the superior training of Jezz and Edge, the tide slowly shifted.

Finally Doc Hatter’s voice sounded again. “All righty then, Isotopers! Back it up and let’s bring in our roller derby babes… Team Kobayashi Maru! That’s right, Isotopers! It’s a no-win scenario for The Man! Let’s hear it! Bring it bring it bring it Team Kobayashi Maruuuuuuuuu…!”

The crowds parted and four women on roller skates skated through. Although they appeared at first glance dressed in traditional 70s roller derby uniforms, their spiked helmets and shoulder-pads gave them an even more intimidating air. Each woman wore spiked black leather gloves and forearm braces as well.

The four roller derby skaters began skating a tight figure-8 in the center of the dance floor. It was obviously a prelude to an attack.

Jezz said, “Watch the crowd, sensei. I’ll deal with the rolling rejects.”

Jezz stepped forward and then stood with her arms down. The women on skates continued their figure-8 pattern for one more go-round. Then one-by-one they broke away and made their way toward Jezz, building up speed as they did so.

The first two skaters approached side-by-side. As they got near Jezz, they thrust their fists out simultaneously, attempting to strike her high. Jezz dropped down, avoiding both blows. The other two skaters were right behind them and they both dropped low, also extending their fists simultaneously. Jezz straightened and leaped straight up, doing a forward flip as she did so, avoiding both blows as well.

The four skaters circled around and prepared for another pass. This time started from farther out to the side and timed their patterns to cross directly in front of Jezz. As the first skater arrived, Jezz whirled on one foot and drove a back-kick into the belly of the skater. The skater huffed and bent over, breathless. She grabbed Jezz’s leg instinctively.

Feeling her leg grabbed, Jezz spun, using the purchase of the skater’s grip to whirl her other leg around and strike the skater in the back of her head. There was a sudden sharp crack as the skater’s helmet cracked and broke, falling in pieces from the skater’s head. The skater skidded to the ground, unconscious.

The second skater came at Jezz from the opposite direction, swinging her spiked gauntlet at Jezz’s head. Jezz dropped low and her foot shot out, striking the skater in the knee. The skater groaned and shifted her weight to her opposite foot. Still low, Jezz whirled and struck the back of the other skate with her heel, sweeping the skater’s feet from under her. Jezz put her to sleep a moment later.

Jezz got back to her feet. The last two remaining skaters from the Isotope’s Team Kobayashi Maru faced her from the other side of the dance floor. Both had acquired baseball bats and both appeared determined to take Jezz down.

The two skaters began striking the wooden dance floor with their bats, setting up a slow cadence. They started striking the floor faster, picking up the cadence until it was a rapid staccato. Then, with simultaneous screams, they lifted their bats and skated toward Jezz at full speed.

Jezz stood motionless as the two skaters approached her, bats raised. And then, as they arrived at Jezz’s position, they swung concurrently, one skater swinging high, the other low.

And yet neither blow struck home. In a seemingly physics-defying move, Jezz leaped and spun on the axis of her waist, appearing to hover in mid-air as she twirled under the swinging bat of one skater and over the swinging bat of the other skater.

Both skaters pulled up and stopped, staring incredulously. Then they launched themselves once again.

There were no fancy acrobatics this time. Jezz met them and began a rapid move-counter-blow-counter exchange with the bat-wielding roller derby assassins. Several seconds of intense back-and-forth action took place as Jezz blocked and redirected the non-stop attempts with the bats. Then Jezz ducked under a swing and drove an elbow into the stomach of one skater while snatching the bat from her hands in the same move. With the bat now in her hand, Jezz blocked a swing from the skater, then twirled and struck the same skater in the leg with the bat. The skater dropped, clutching her injured knee. A chop to the neck took out the remaining skater.

Jezz turned to the DJ booth.

Doc Hatter said, “How ’bout that show, folks? Groovy, baby! Let’s give the young lady a hand!”

Jezz noted the DJ’s prattle, while still upbeat and nonsensical, was starting to sound forced. She turned and spoke to Edge.

“I’m going in, Edge,” she said. “Keep those derby chicks off my back.”

Edge, however, was already crossing the floor to where the roller derby ladies were lying down in various states of injury or unconsciousness.

Jezz sighed. When Edge moved like that, it meant there was a good chance one or more of the roller derby girls was going to wake up tomorrow with more than just a headache. Morning sickness was a strong possibility.

Jezz turned back for the DJ booth. Suddenly an old tune sounded, echoing through the otherwise quiet discothèque. Jezz paused, trying to place it. Then she got it.

It was the tune to the 70s show, “Charlie’s Angels”.

Whatever. It was time to take down DJ Doc Hatter.

Jezz heard the sound of frantic roller skating behind her, but it sounded like someone attempting to get away, not attack, so Jezz ignored it. Jezz took a quick run at the front of the raised DJ booth, then leaped forward and took what appeared to be several steps up the front of the booth. As she reached the peak of her momentum, her hands flashed up and she caught the top of the glass. She then hoisted herself up and over the glass in the same move, landing softly on her feet inside the booth.

The “booth” proved to be far more than a tiny cubicle. It was actually more of a room. The part that was the booth was just an exterior balcony jutting out over the dance floor.

Doc Hatter had backed into the room, but Jezz could see him clearly now. He was tall and gangly, dressed in a glittery, ill-fitting suit of garish blues and greens. The tall top hat remained perched on his head.

Behind him, against the far wall, what appeared to be a steel box sat on a table, perhaps 3′ × 3′. On the front of the box was what appeared to be a clunky analog dial. It looked similar to a clock face, but it had only one arm and had years in place of the numbers 1-12. 1910 appeared where the number 1 would typically sit. 1930, 1960 and 1990 held the 3, 6 and 9 positions, with the other decades fitting in chronologically. At the top where the number 12 would typically sit, the word “PRESENT” stood.

The large arrow was pointing equidistant between 1970 and 1980.

Jezz was pretty sure she had found the machine that was causing all the trouble. But standing between Jezz and the device was Doc Hatter and standing between Jezz and Doc Hatter was a trio of women positioned together in various aggressive combat poses.

“Aren’t they adorable?” said Doc Hatter, indicating the three women in front of him with a nod of his top hat. His voice sounded different when not being filtered through the club sound system. “I call them ‘Hatter’s Angels’.”

“Very clever,” said Jezz. “Those are the original agents sent in, I take it.”

“Yes,” said Doc Hatter. “I should have just had them keep reporting in that everything was fine. I knew better by the time the second pair got here, of course, but I suppose it was already too late.”

“Yep,” said Jezz. “You got greedy.”

“True,” said Doc Hatter. “Ah, well. Kling akhlami buhfic, I suppose.”

“Exactly,” said Jezz. “Wait…what?”

“Kling akhlami buhfic,” said Doc Hatter. “Vulcan for ‘nobody’s perfect’. Please don’t tell me you’ve never seen “The Wrath of Khan”.”

Jezz shrugged.

Doc Hatter sighed. “Well, in that case, you deserve everything that’s about to happen to you.”

“Ah,” said Jezz. “Hostility.”

Doc Hatter nodded. “Yep,” he said. “I’d say don’t take it personal, but I’d be lying, ’cuz it’s personal.”

Jezz nodded her head at the steel box behind Doc Hatter. “I take it that’s what’s making everybody act like members of an evil disco hive?”

Doc Hatter chortled. “It is indeed,” he said. “All I have to do is set the dial to the general era I want and it sends out those specific waves. Turning the dial is like changing the frequency on a short wave radio. This is just a rough prototype, of course. Very little range. My next model will be digital. After that, who knows? It might be time to go satellite radio!”

Jezz sighed. “You’re a loony.”

“Wow,” said Doc Hatter. “That’s very original. I’ve never heard that one before.”

Jezz grunted. “Sorry. I’ll work on my pre-fight bad guy banter.”

“You do that,” said Doc Hatter. “But if you don’t mind, one question before my girls here get to work taking you down. How the hell are you resisting my control? This close to the device, this range, you should be dancing like an extra on Saturday Night Fever.”

Jezz shrugged. “Mental discipline on a level you couldn’t comprehend without the right training. Makes me immune to mechanical forms of mind-control. Or highly resistant, anyway. Besides that, my sensei and I are practically a ’70s trope ourselves. Maybe you would’ve had better luck with a different era.”

Doc Hatter looked at a number of monitors sitting near his device. Then he did a double-take. “Okay, one more question I have to ask. What…what is your sensei doing to my roller derby team…?”

Jezz glanced at the monitors and saw what Doc Hatter saw. She sighed and shook her head.

“Well…it’s sort of a ritual for him…you know, to the victor goes the spoils…”

“All four of them?!

“Don’t be misled by his age. He has a lot of stamina. And he produces a lot of potent—”

Doc Hatter held up his hand. “I got it. Are you telling me he’s trying to impregnate my entire Team Kobayashi Maru?”

Jezz looked at the monitor. “I think he’s past the ‘trying’ stage and well into the ‘succeeded’ stage.”

Doc Hatter growled in frustration. “Your sensei’s a dick.”

Jezz nodded. “Yep,” she said. “Anyway, enough chat. I need to get to work breaking your toy.”

Doc Hatter smiled, although it was a caricature of his earlier smile. “Allow me one small contribution to your efforts,” said the DJ. He pressed a button on his watch and the Charlies’ Angels theme faded. A moment later a new song started. The singer opened with a slow ‘Oh-oh-oh-oh-ohhhhhh…’ And then the song started:

Everybody was kung-fu fighting!

Jezz rolled her eyes. “Seriously?”

The DJ cackled. “Show some respect. The Carl Douglas song ‘Kung Fu Fighting’ is a classic!”

“You are so going down.”

“Good luck with that,” said Doc Hatter. “Angels…attack!”

The three angels yelled, “Hah!” and ran toward Jezz.

Jezz dashed toward them as well. As they all came together, all three angels leaped into perfectly matched arched flying kicks. Just as all three kicks were about to land on Jezz, she leaped into the air and performed a summersault over the three angels, landing on her feet as the angels sailed past her.

The only thing between her and Doc Hatter’s device now was Doc Hatter himself. Jezz ran directly at him.

Doc Hatter’s eyes widened and he scrambled to escape from Jezz.

Jezz’s attack had been a feint, however. Her actual target was the device. As she ran to the device, she realized it was surrounded by a clear material that looked like glass or clear plastic.

No matter. It was time to end this disco inferno. With a yell, she threw her hand forward and struck the middle of the device. And then she stared in amazement.

The front of the device was unmarked. No dents, no cracks, no evidence of the blow Jezz had struck.

Doc Hatter’s laugh sounded again. “The protective coat surrounding that device is a compound of my own making, my dear. Derived from various steel and diamond elements, and quite unbreakable. Can you dig it?”

Jezz was so surprised that the device had stood against her blow that she nearly didn’t recover in time to block a flying kick from one of the angels. She diverted the blow at the last moment and rolled away from the device. She rolled back to her feet in the same move and then stood, facing the three danger angels. And then Jezz went to work.

The angels were trained and they were good. They also worked together as a team. And because they weren’t truly bad guys, Jezz wanted to take them down without damaging them. Jezz had her hands full.

Jezz ducked under a roundhouse kick, using the momentum to whirl around and kick the feet from under the woman. As she stepped in to follow-up, she had to block a punch from another angel, leap over a leg sweep and block a follow-up punch from the angel in front of her. The third angel rolled to her feet as Jezz went back-and-forth with the two angels in front of her.

It soon became a battle of attrition. Jezz was bleeding from a cut on her cheek and she was favoring her right leg. Holding back to prevent damaging them was costly. But one of the angels was down and the other two were swaying on their feet. After another flurry, another angel went down, leaving just one angel. And Jezz was able to put her to sleep without damaging her.

Doc Hatter looked more and more anxious as each angel fell. As the final angel dropped to the ground, the deranged scientist-turned-DJ turned to dash for the door. But then he stopped.

Standing in the doorway was a very satisfied-looking Edge. He leaned on his staff and gazed at Doc Hatter. The DJ stayed where he was.

Jezz walked over to the table and stared at the device.

Doc Hatter cackled. “I may be going to jail,” he said, “but my disco will last forever! Bwaaaaaa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”

Jezz pressed her fingers to the device coating, took in its properties, its lines, probed the surface. She removed her fingers and stepped back. Her eyes still closed, she evened her breathing, slowed her respiration. She focused inward, shifted. Then she took a deep breath, released half of it. Her eyes suddenly snapped open and she took a step forward, striking the front of the device with a flat palm.

There was the sound of crunching metal, as well as sudden pops and squawks. The monitors around the device all went dark.

Doc Hatter’s eyes widened. “What did you do? What did you do?!”

Jezz looked at Edge, who nodded in satisfaction. She then turned to the crazed DJ.

“It’s called ‘Dim Mak’,” she said. “Please don’t tell me you’ve never seen ‘Bloodsport’.”

“Of course I’ve seen it!” said Doc Hatter. “That doesn’t mean I think that stupid Dim Mak is real!”

Jezz shrugged. “Then you deserve everything that happened to you.”

“No I don’t!” said Doc Hatter. “It’s not fair! How could you just destroy years of work like that!?”

“It’s like the old Klingon proverb says, Doc,” said Jezz. “Revenge is a dish that is best served cold.”

“You bitch! You did see ‘Wrath of Khan’!”

Jezz smiled and said, “Can you dig it?”