The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Bill Sanderson glanced outside his window, trying to feign calmness. Despite his seven years as an armed guard escort, money drops still made him nervous. He glanced at his partner, Steve, sitting on his left. The young blonde man looked bored and indifferent as well; the difference, however, was that Steve’s demeanor was not feigned. Bill sighed. How anyone could be so nonchalant about transporting more money than most people in the city made in a year was beyond him. City life was dangerous. Criminals seemed to be coming out of the woodwork lately, and you never knew would you might be attacked by some normal guy with a gun and a ski mask, some psychotic madman with a doomsday weapon, or a super powered Super Villain in brightly colored spandex—

The armored car skidded suddenly to a stop, causing the two guards to slide forward. “What the hell?” Steve asked, glancing through the small metal slats separating the front cab with the back of the car. “Why did Terry stop the damn van right here, of all places?”

Bill’s hand tightened on the grip of his pistol as he, too, peered through the small opening. Panic started to well up inside him, and his heart began beating like a kettle drum. “Must be trouble,” he murmured softly, to himself. “Terry wouldn’t stop with a haul like this unless he absolutely had to.”

“Hey! Look!” Steve exclaimed. “Look right there! It’s Omega Girl!”

Bill let out the breath he’d been holding in relief. “Oh, thank goodness,” he said, sitting back down in his seat. “Whatever the emergency is, I’m sure she can handle it.”

He fingered the scar on his left hand idly. Back when he’d first moved to the city, he and his then-wife, Ellen, had run out of gas near the riverside, the worst area of town. Having no cell phone, and no way to call for aid, he had left his wife in the car and headed back up the road, towards a gas station they’d passed half a mile before. He hadn’t gone very far before a gang of thugs had accosted him, beating him down and dragging him into a back alley. He’d given them his wallet, and his watch, hoping they would leave him alone, but when the leader had seen how little money he’d scored, he had become even angrier. Several of the men had held him down while the gang’s leader stuck his switchblade straight through the palm of his hand. Outnumbered, bleeding, battered and bruised, Bill had expected to die in that alleyway.

He most likely WOULD have died, if Omega Girl hadn’t arrived just in the nick of time.

“Yeah, I suppose so,” Steve replied, taking his seat as well. “Still, I kinda wonder what she’s doing here, anyway. If someone was out to rob the shipment, why wouldn’t she just stop whoever is after the shipment, instead of stopping us?”

Just then, a loud bang sounded, and the entire truck tilted wildly, finally rolling over onto its roof. Bill slammed to the roof headfirst, and groaned, seeing stars. His vision went gray, and everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. Half buried in heavy bags of money, he struggled dimly to free himself to no avail. He closed his eyes and shook his head to clear his vision, and opened them to find Omega Girl standing before him. Ripping the heavy metal door from its hinges, the black clad heroine stepped into the truck, grabbing the heavy bags of money, tossing them out into the street.

“Oh... oh... thank you Omega Girl,” Bill gasped, once he was uncovered. “I don’t know what happened... but thank heavens you were here... to save us!”

A strange expression crossed the masked hero’s face. “Save you?” she said slowly, an evil smile creasing her lips. “I think you misunderstand me, little man. I didn’t come to save you. I came to help myself... to all this fabulous money!!” She laughed, a soft sexy, seductive laugh. “My days of being a goody-goody are all over, handsome. From now on, I take what I want, I DO what I want... and anyone stupid enough to get in my way—” Grabbing hold of the remaining door, Omega Girl yanked hard, snapping the hinges again, like a thin half-rotten twig. Still smiling that evil grin, she twisted the metal, pushing it together, crumpling it as easily as an aluminum can. Bill gulped.

A large black van pulled up seconds later, and five black clad people wearing sunglasses stepped out. “Well, that’s my ride,” Omega Girl quipped, turning to retrieve the money. “It’s been fun, boys. Let’s do this again, sometime.”

Fumbling for his gun, Bill pulled his revolver and took aim. “Fre... fr... frr.. freeze, Omega Girl,” he stuttered. “I don’t know what’s happened to you, but I can’t let you get away with this money.”

The five others stopped moving, but Omega Girl kept walking, picking up the heavy bags, and tossing them into the back of the van. Bill cocked the weapon with his right, holding it with his left. His scarred hand. Hearing the click, Omega Girl whirled around to face him. Bill gulped again. “Dammit! Please! Don’t make me do this!” he begged.

Omega Girl frowned. “Do you think you can stop me, little man?” she snarled. Her eyes took on a yellowish glow as she focused her gaze on him. “I’ve fought Super Villains more powerful than you and won. Hell, I’ve spit up crap more powerful than you!”

“Hey! Let’s go!” one of the black clad people yelled out. “We’re running out of time. The cops are on their way here now.”

Omega Girl nodded. “He’s right. I don’t have time for this shit.” A flash of light erupted from her eyes. Bill gasped, struck by her Omega Beams, feeling as if he’d grabbed hold of a power line. His eyes rolled back into his head, and he crumpled to the ground with a sigh. Turning back to the van, giving the man not another thought, she and her five companions drove back to their hideout.

“Hahahaha!” Dr. Feelgood laughed. “That was the best fun I’ve had in years! Wonderful! Now THAT is the way a caper is supposed to go! No cops showing up at the wrong moment to spoil the fun. No annoying, do-gooder Super Heroes dropping in unannounced to break things up.”

“None except for our OWN little do-gooder Super Hero, you mean,” Peepshow giggled.

lacie smirked. “Well, technically, I’m not a HERO anymore. I’m a Villain... a bad guy. Er, bad girl.” she sighed softly, running her hands down the length of her body. “Mmmm, I had no idea it felt so GOOD to be so bad!”

Brainstorm chuckled softly. One of the little ‘tweaks’ he’d made to her personality was a direct link from being evil, performing evil acts of chaos and mayhem, and pleasure. The ‘Villain’ persona lacie wore when she was out in public, or when they specifically activated it, was, after all, merely a shell, a disguise lacie wore as easily as the costume that went with it. It was only the outermost level of her psyche, barely skin deep, nothing more. Still, the pleasure reinforcement would slowly but surely penetrate deeper into her subconscious, making the change more permanent, darkening her soul, and making her the perfect partner.

Yes, he thought to himself. It’s all coming together as I envisioned it. Soon, I will rule this city, then this entire country. I will be King... and she will become my Queen.

Ah, but first things first.

“Hey, Parfume,” he called out to the perpetually scowling driver of the vehicle. “We just made a major haul. C’mon! Laugh! Lighten up, willya? You should be celebrating like the rest of us!”

The black haired, dark eyed beauty turned up her pert thin nose and harrumphed. “I will celebrate once ze city iz under our control, and non before! Ze job is not yet done, zhe is only started! I zee no reazon to celebrate prematurely!”

FX snorted. “Sounds to me like someone’s got a bug stuck up they ass.”

“She’s just in a bad mood,” Brainstorm replied, before another argument could start, “because she hasn’t had a chance to play with our dear little Omega Slut yet. It is her turn on the rotation, you know.”

Parfume flipped her hair. “I do not require her presence in my boudoir. Unlike ze rest of you, I am more dignified, and refined, in my choices.”

“Yes, well, maybe so,” Brainstorm replied, “but we all need to take turns with Omega Slut. It was a group effort to break her, Parfume,” he said, speaking about lacie as if she wasn’t even there, “and it will take a combined group effort to condition her fully into her full life.”

Rolling her eyes, the Goth girl acquiesced. “Very well.” Turning to face Omega Girl, she blew a small puff of mist into her face. “You will come with me tonight, girl,” she commanded.

lacie’s eyes rolled up into her head, and she breathed deeply as the dizziness swept over her, followed an instant later by a wave of pleasure at being commanded by her Mistress. “Ohhhh... yesss... will come... with you... tonight...”

The van arrived safely back at its destination, a high rise building in the center of the downtown commerce and trade center. Pulling into the loading dock, Parfume parked the van, and she and the others exited. Brainstorm sent out a mental command to the brainwashed servants in residence there, and within moments, a group of ten men dressed in navy blue jumpsuits arrived. “Unload the money,” he ordered briefly. “Have it all counted, sorted, and run it through the laundering system we set up. Report back to me once that’s done.” The men nodded as one, and turned, walking swiftly to the back of the van.

Each of the five Masters and Mistresses had their own elevator, leading to their own private suites. Omega Girl followed Parfume into her elevator, sliding into the small metal chamber next to her. As soon as the doors closed, however, and the two of them were alone, Omega Girl vanished, leaving behind only a submissive lacie ann. Parfume glared up at her; at five foot seven she had to look up to the taller blonde.

“What do you zhink you are doing, eh?” she snarled. “Kneel, zlut! How DARE you stand taller than moi!” lacie immediately dropped to her knees. A small smile flitted across her features before fading back into the perpetual sneer Parfume always wore. “Good. Very good. Perhaps I can have zome fun with you, after all. It has been a while zince I’ve had zomeone to work out my frustrations on.” She glanced down at lacie, head tilted to the side. “Zhey zay you have excellent endurance, mon petit.” The evil smile slid across her features again. “Well, we zhall zee about that, non?”

The smallest part of lacie, the real her, shuddered inwardly, partially from fear, partially from anticipation. her Mistress had made no secret of Her dislike and disdain for her. Unlike the night she’d spent with her Goddess, Peepshow, lacie knew her night spent with the Goth Girl would be anything BUT pleasurable.

She seems to hate everyone... not just me. lacie thought idly. i wonder why—

Then, suddenly, she did know why. The thoughts, like memories hidden away in her mind, resurfaced, and knowledge poured into her. Yes, poured into her through the psychic connection with her God, her Owner, her Creator, Brainstorm. He, who knew everything about everything, and who had imparted some of that knowledge to her while she had been remade.

Parfume. Her real name was Jeanette Marie Lafayette, daughter of the French Supermodel, Simone Lafayette. Unlike the other heroes or villains, whose powers came from some kind of accident, Jeanette’s strange ability came naturally. Her body’s secretions contained an unknown chemical that affected certain areas of the brain, rendering the person extremely suggestible. The misting aspect of her breath, however, didn’t manifest until she turned fifteen, and then, unfortunately, at a most inopportune time.

Nearing the age of sexual awareness, she had heard some of her older friends talking about masturbation, and how good it felt. That night, upstairs in her bedroom, she had decided to try it. Stripping naked, she had spread her young legs and began stroking and teasing her small, bare, adolescent pussy, gazing at herself in the full length mirror that covered her wall. The mood was heavy, and she was tense with anticipation and excitement, tinged with the fear of discovery. Sweating, breathing heavily, she had worked herself into a fever pitch. At the moment she reached her peak, the full aspect of her power emerged. She had gasped, breathing out a thick cloud of mist, then inhaled, just as she climaxed. A victim of her own power, she had cum explosively, her drugged, addled mind focused only on two things: the overwhelming pleasure sweeping over her, and her own image in the mirror, the source of that overwhelming pleasure.

“Oh, my God,” she had panted, staring at herself. “Zhan was incredible. I never knew I could feel zo good. No pleasure could ever compare to what I just did to myself.”

Thus, Jeanette, the girl who would grow up to become the villainess Parfume, had unknowingly programmed herself into that mindset. Her attitude changed dramatically. She no longer had any interest in boys, or girls. She was her own best friend, the most desirable person on the planet. Everyone else became a very distant second. When she realized the power she now held, she began using it to her own benefit, making her ‘slaves’ serve her in every way except sexually. After all, no pleasure could begin to compare with the delight her own hands brought her.

All this lacie took in as her Mistress lead her, still on her knees, into her private chambers. Several men and women stood around, all dressed in black leather fetish gear—the women bound in tight corsets, thigh-high boots, and bondage gloves, the men wearing full leather bondage hoods, chaps, and ball gags. The entire room smelled of leather, and of sex. The occupants all stood at stiff attention as they walked by, almost like soldiers. Passing close by, lacie noted the redness of the exposed flesh, the telltale marks and welts of recent and repeated floggings. Walking by without giving them a second glance, Parfume led Her newest acquisition, still crawling on her hands and knees, down the hallway, and into Her personal Play Room.

The room itself consisted of a hexagonal shaped room, each wall covered in a full-length, floor-to-ceiling mirror. The ceiling itself was covered with mirrors as well. The only light came from the several tiered candelabra, positioned at each of the six intersections of the walls.

Closing the door behind Her, Parfume strode over to the large black leather couch on the other side of the room and sat, her legs crossed, a riding crop resting in her hands. She sneered down at lacie. “You, girl, you are unworthy even to look upon ze beauty before you... but I zhall at least make good use of you. Remove My clothes, slave—uh uh uh!” She interrupted, lashing the crop down hard on lacie’s hand. “With your teeth, slut! You do not have ze permission to use your dirty little hands!”

Hand stinging, lacie leaned forward, using her mouth, lips, and teeth to peel off her Mistress’ clothes. Shame and humiliation flooded her, yet she felt hot and horny at the same time. i’m so unworthy to serve Her, the thought entered her mind, and still She is letting me serve Her! lacie’s left hand moved down to rub herself through her costume; the wetness was already seeping through the fabric.

“What are you doing, girl?” Parfume yelled, lashing again with the crop. lacie winced in pain; despite having superhuman strength and recuperative powers, she still felt pain like anyone else. “I did not tell you you could have pleasure!” the Goth Goddess snarled. “Zhe others, zhey were FAR too easy on you, little zlut! My pleasure is all zhat matters. You will do well to remember zhat!” Leaning back, She relaxed, running the hard smooth handle of the crop against Her newly bared breasts, stroking Her nipples into hardened little points.

lacie moaned softly, her arousal increasing as her pain and humiliation increased. That small part of her, deep down, that knew what was happening yet was powerless to stop it, shuddered in disgust, more so at her own reactions than what Parfume was doing. she was not gay, not even bi-curious, but her body’s reactions were overwriting her own natural responses. That knowledge only contributed to her sense of shame and humiliation, causing a cascading feedback loop of pleasure and humiliation that was leading her, inevitable, towards an explosive climax.

Several minutes later, lacie, her jaw aching with the effort, removed the dress completely from her Mistress’ body, leaving the pale Woman sitting there clad in only in a pair of thin, black lace panties, a black leather choker, and pair of black leather ankle boots. Parfume sneered, rising to Her feet. “You are zo much a zlut, non? Getting off on zerving a hot little Bitch like Moi?” She laughed wickedly, pressing a booted foot against the inside of lacie’s crotch, pushing in brutally, causing the poor girl to moan. Parfume laughed again, and leaned down, breathing a large blast of mist into lacie’s face.

“You get off on ze pain I cause you!” Parfume hissed into her ear.

lacie groaned, the dizziness and pleasure washing over her in waves. her addled mind soaked up her Mistress’ words as readily as a sponge. A sharp pain cleared away the cobwebs a moment later, as the riding crop came down hard across her backside. Pain burned, then metamorphed into pleasure, causing lacie’s hips to move almost of their own accord.

“You like zhat, don’t you?” Parfume taunted her. “Zhen, by all means, have another!”

The next half hour was filled with wild cries of pain and passion, of helpless sobs, and cruel laughter. Parfume whipped and lashed the girl until Her muscles gave out, then summoned one of Her bondage slaves to take over for Her. She sat back on Her couch, staring at the reflections on Her mirror-covered walls, gliding a long thick black dildo deep into Her pussy, climaxing again and again to the sight of Her beautiful body pleasuring itself to the musical moans and cries for mercy from Her little slave slut. Sighing, sated of pleasure, for the moment, She decided She wished to dominate and humiliate the defeated Omega Girl a bit more.

“Leave!” She commanded the burly hooded male sub, who bowed slightly and left without a word. Lounging before Her slave, She watched in fascination as the beet red flesh of lacie’s back slowly lightened, the criss-cross network of welts and cuts healed, scabbed over, then faded away completely. “Impressive,” Parfume mumbled, despite Herself. “Very impressive. Crawl over to Me, girl,” She ordered, tapping the riding crop lightly against Her palm. Tired, wracked with pain, dazed from repeated misting by Parfume, soaked with sweat and cum juices—the implanted commands to enjoy her torture, to ‘get off on the pain’, forced her to cum nearly as much as her Mistress—lacie was completely out of it. Sill obedient, her programming ingrained into her very subconscious, she crawled to Parfume on hands and knees, operating completely on ‘auto-pilot’.

“You imbecile!” Parfume scolded, holding the tip of the crop right below lacie’s nose. “I told you to remove My clothing with your teeth!” She slashed out hard, cutting the side of lacie’s left cheek. “But you forgot ze boots on My feet!” She slashed again, this time cutting lacie’s right cheek. The girl merely moaned softly. Smiling evilly, Parfume lifted Her left foot, pressing it hard against lacie’s chest, giving the girl a perfect view of Her exposed pussy. “Take zhem off, slut,” Mistress commanded, “but make zure you clean zhem first! Zhey are all sticky with ze trickling juices from my delicate flower.”

Obedient as always, lacie did as she was instructed. The instant her tongue swept across the soaked black leather, her vision swam. Parfume’s cum hit her like a brick wall, the concentrated secretion affecting her a hundred times stronger than the mist Her Dark Goddess breathed. her body seemed to move of its own accord now, her hands reaching up to caress and stroke the tooled leather, even as her lips and tongue suckled and bathed her Mistress’ boots with a fervor bordering on the possessed.

Parfume leaned down to breath mist into her face again, and this time, lacie leaned forward, sucking in the precious vapors, inhaling deeply. “Mmmmm... yyyeessss... Missstresss,” she breathed out in response. “Mmmmm... sssooo gggoooooodddd... it feels so good to serve you this way... you must LOVE having me serve you... feels sooo gggoooooddd...” Gripping the heels of Goddess’ boots, she unzipped them with her teeth and gently, seductively, pulled them down off Her feet. Without being told, lacie began kissing and nibbling her Goddess’ feet, sucking lightly on Her long slender toes, deftly licking the soft pale soles, and bathing the feet of her Goddess with her most unworthy tongue.

Parfume was beside Herself. At first, She felt affronted. How dare this filthy, dirty, unworthy little SLUT touch Her bare flesh without Her permission? Then, however, She noticed just how GOOD it felt, having the stupid little slut serving Her this way, tending to Her hot, sweaty feet. How humiliating it must be, being turned into a submissive little foot slave, forced to kneel at her rightful place down at Her feet. And, she realized with a small shudder, the girl DID have a talented tongue. It felt soothing, and relaxing, and quite pleasurable, ticklish enough to make Her smile despite Herself, yet not enough to irritate Her, or make Her burst into laughter. The view itself was spectacular; lacie, dressed in her sexy black hero costume, looking more like a bondage slut than the others, literally worshiping at Her feet, licking and sucking on Her toes like a woman possessed. She closed Her eyes to the sensations, sighing in contentment.

When lacie finally ventured upward, making her way slowly to her Goddess’ leg, kissing licking and sucking, Parfume was already lost in Her own pleasure-filled world. Her breath was coming hot and heavy, the room filling up with Mist, as She slid a third, then a fourth finger into Her wet, dripping pussy. lacie, still moving mindlessly, kissed and nibbled and suckled her way up, up, steadily upwards, her mouth whispering soft words of encouragement between each soulful kiss. When she finally reached the soft tender Delta, lacie’s fingers were working as feverishly in her own pussy as Parfume’s were in the slit between Her legs. Her eyes, half-closed in bliss, sprang open at the unexpected but very welcome intrusion. The contact of tongue to clit arced like an electric current through Parfume’s body, and lacie’s lips puckered, forming a suction cup grasp holding the twitching little nubbin still as she licked.

Parfume... exploded. Orgasmed did not even begin to describe the sensation. Her eyes rolled up into Her head, and She shook all over as spasm after spasm wrung Her like a dishrag. The entire world seemed to turn on a slant, and She lost Her grip on reality. Her orgasm shattered, fracturing into hundreds and hundreds of mini-orgasms, all striking Her one after the other, rapid-fire. She babbled helplessly, in French, Her head lolling to and fro, Her thighs clenching and squeezing like a vise, Her limbs flapping wildly, disjointedly. And STILL the pleasure continued.

lacie continued to lap away, effortlessly holding her Mistress aloft with her superior strength. her own orgasms seemed to be connected to that of her Goddess, her free hand furiously frigging away, soaking the soft shag carpet. her tongue began to cramp from the excessive use, yet she continued on, mindlessly giving pleasure, mindlessly receiving pleasure, her mind long since collapsed in on itself, her body going through the motions regardless. Between licks she sighed, breathing out mindless words of thanks and pleasure, of the joy of serving Her Most Wonderful Owner, words softy repeated back just as breathlessly by her Mistress. One last lick, and Parfume tilted back Her head, screaming Her pleasure. Gasping, bright lights dancing before Her eyes, She mercifully passed out, a true smile plastered to Her lovely face.

lacie’s climactic end came moments later, as she greedily drank every drop of her Mistress’ cum, each taste spiraling her deeper and deeper into mindless pleasure, until finally even she could stand no more. Sighing softly, her eyes slammed shut, and she swooned, her head nestled tightly between Parfume’s pale soft thighs...

Parfume grumbled sleepily as Her alarm blared. Switching it off, She stretched, and sat up. For a moment disorientation swept over Her. Why wasn’t She in Her bedroom? Then She heard the soft snores of Her little slave slut, still sleeping on the shag carpet at Her feet. Memory returned in a shudder of wicked pleasure. MMmmmmm, wow, zhat was truly incredible last night, She mused. I can see why zhat little slut Peepshow was so enamored with her. Zhat was zhe best sex of my entire life! I wonder if I have time to play with her again...

Her alarm blared again, and with a regretful sigh, Parfume rose from Her couch. “Get up, little slut,” She grumbled, kicking lacie lightly in the side. “Get showered and changed. We have to meet downstairs in a few minutes to plan zhe next part of our great Master Plan.” lacie rose gracefully to her feet and headed out of the Play Room, towards the showers. Parfume glanced behind her appreciatively. A slight smile crossed her face.

Eugene Fraser sighed deeply, leaning back in his first class seat. He waved away the stewardess offering a glass of champagne, staring out the window instead at the New York skyline. The calm soothing scenery couldn’t begin to touch his anger and frustration, however. His last meeting with Lacie had been anything but enjoyable, leaving him wondering yet again why he even bothered to try and make it work with her. Relationships were complicated enough even under the best of circumstances; factor in the fact that they were complete opposites—her, a down-to-earth, country bred school teacher, and he, a jet-setting, millionaire playboy industrialist—and it was no small wonder things had lasted as long as they already had!

Their differences seemed to span a wide gulf between them, but the argument they’d had two days ago made it seem like the Grand Canyon. At least, it was how it felt to Gene. And it wasnae even my fault! he grumbled inwardly. I mean, I come all the way in from Manhattan for a dinner date we’d planned weeks in advance, and not only is she late, not only does she no leave me a message explaining what’s happening til I’m ready to leave, but when she arrived an hour after that, she all but picks a bloody fight with me! As if it me that was being inconsiderate.

He closed his eyes. He was being unfair. He knew Lacie wasn’t that way, normally. Yes, they argued, yes, they fought, but always, always, they made up. They apologized, and everything was alright between them before they separated for the night. Lacie hadn’t apologized this time, hadn’t made any effort to talk to him at all, and he’d left close to twenty messages on her machine. Something was obviously wrong, but for the life of him, he couldnae figure out what...

A beeping sound on his wrist watch caught his attention. Glancing around, he stood up and made his way into the bathroom at the front of the plane. Once inside, he pressed a small button on the side, and the wristwatch morphed, expanding into a thin, skin tight metal gauntlet. Depressing a second button, he spoke into the hidden receiver.

“Go ahead, Governor,” he said in an authoritative voice. “I’m listening.”

“Um, sorry, this isn’t the Governor of New York,” an unfamiliar voice replied. “I need to speak to you, and it’s very important—”

“Who the blazes are you?” Gene demanded. “How did you get this number?!? This is a private frequency!”

“Hey, calm down! Please!” the voice pleased. “I know this is kind of strange, but it’s an emergency! And dude, you have no idea how long it took to find the right frequency, not to mention break into your secured communication relay!”

Gene’s eyes narrowed. “Listen, if you’re some kind of hacker out for kicks, I should warn you this line is strictly for official Government business. Disconnect now, and I willnae report this to the authorities, but if you insist on playing games—”

“It’s about Lacie Gilbertson!”

That got his attention. “Lacie? What the devil is this about? Who is this?”

Sigh. “My name is Jerry. I’m a friend of hers, and believe me when I say she is in very deep trouble. I think maybe you’re the only one that can help get her out of it.”

“Well, yes, I do care for her, aye,” Gene said slowly, “but if she into such serious trouble, why call me? Why not call the police.”

“The police?” Jerry snorted. “Pah-leese. Most of those guys couldn’t find their asses without putting out an all points bulletin. No... for what she’s mixed up in, you’re the only one she can depend on. You’ve seen the news, about Omega Girl going rogue? Well, that’s exactly the mess Lacie is tangled up in. She need your help.” Jerry paused. “She needs Amour Man.”

Gene’s eyes widened in surprise. “What? How... who... I don’t... I mean...”

“Don’t try and deny it. I’m a hacker, remember? One of the best. And anyway, I keep a pretty large dossier on most of the Super Heroes in this country, for cases like this. Eugene Fraser, you are Amour Man.”

“Keep yer bloody voice down, willya?” he grumbled. “Fine. Ye ken who I am well enough.” A beep, and red light flashed on his gauntlet, and he smiled. “And now, I ken who and where ye are as well, laddie. My system allowed me to backtrack you once the connection was made. Now explain to me what Omega Girl going evil as to do with Lacie, and I’ll decide whether or no I need to track ye down and pulverize ye into dust.”

“Haven’t you figured out the obvious?” Jerry replied, unperturbed. “They have everything to do with one another. Mr. Fraser, Lacie Gilbertson IS Omega Girl!”