The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

A Bird in the Hand

by Baltimore Rogers

Part III—Desiring

Nigel continued stroking her cheek, relishing the power he had over the luscious heroine. She groaned and gasped with every touch, eyes filled with yearning. He stroked forward to her chin and thrust his thumb into her gaping mouth. She suckled it like a baby on mommy’s tit, eyes never leaving Nigel’s face.

He worked his thumb under her tongue and grasped her chin firmly from the inside out. Then he began to walk away, pulling her behind him by her chin-leash. Even though her eyes took in all his movement, she was still lost in the pleasure of his touch. So she stumbled as he pulled her off balance, but she quickly fell in behind him, hoping that he was not disappointed with her clumsiness. In a way she was shocked that they were leaving the bedroom. After all there was a perfectly good bed right there, and she was so-o-o-o ready to be fucked. Where were they going?

Out the bedroom door onto the railed balcony that surrounded the living area below, he brought her to a tight spiral staircase and began to step down, pulling her after him. The stairs descended sharply and Nigel was holding her chin tight. So she had to bend and kneel and stumble down the stairs, following as best she could. She began to despair, she knew that she had to impress this god/man in order to get him to make love to her, but she felt clumsy, inadequate, slow. She felt like she was blowing her chance.

When they got to the bottom of the stairs, she finally got her bearings enough to look around. The living room was a testament to sybaritic comfort, with plush chairs and throw pillows filling the sunken area in the center of the room. Nigel pushed up a light switch and a flood light shown on a small parquet dance floor beside the cushiony sunken den. In the center of the dance floor was a brass pole that stretched the entire two-story height of the room.

Nigel threw another switch and light, upbeat, jazzy electronica began to play, seemingly coming from everywhere. Nigel pulled her into a deep, sloppy kiss, thoroughly disorienting her again. He turned her toward the dance floor and sent her away with a swat on the ass.

“Show me what you got, kiddo. Make it good,” said Grimalde.

“I don’t unders—”

“Strip for me, idiot twat! Dance for me! Jeezus!”

“Y-yes, of-of course, Mr. Grimalde!”

She trotted over to the pole, mind spinning, trying to figure out what she would do when she got there. When she stood under the light, she had to admit that she looked good. She loved the way the light glittered off of her new Seraph costume. But I won’t be wearing it for long! she thought as she began to sway her hips and touch herself. She turned and saw that Mr. Grimalde had sprawled himself, sultan-like, amid the cushions and pillows of living room.

She made quite the erotic display of unzipping and removing her right boot, which she then kicked across the room while she swung from the pole. Soon boots and gloves were gone, flung to various points unknown. She was unzipping her bodysuit while holding the pole and grinding her glittery gold crotch into it lasciviously. She slowly pulled out her arms out of the suit and then carefully, deliberately began rolling the front of the suit down her torso.

She stopped when she had rolled it down to her waist, and began teasing her nipples through her sports bra. She knew that this was going to be good. Her tits were her best feature, but her sports bra really held her double-D girls down. So she wanted to draw out that reveal as long as she could.

She slowly continued to roll the suit down her legs, twerking against the pole as she did so until she had the whole suit gathered at her knees. Unfortunately her panties were no more sexy than her sports bra. No thrill for Mr. Grimalde there. With a flash of inspiration she brought out her wings as she let the bodysuit drop to her feet. She flew to the top of the pole, put away the wings again. Then she spiral slid upside down all the way back to the floor, simultaneously sliding out of her panties as she did so.

Sprawled at the bottom of the pole, she kicked off the panties in Mr. Grimalde’s general direction. Then she stood and began to tease at the straps of her bra, while grinding her naked, wet sex into the brass rod. Suddenly, she shucked off the bra and tossed it overhand straight at her audience of one. She was pleased to hear Nigel grunt and wolf-whistle in approval as her generous bosom bounced and swayed to the music.

“You’re doing okay, sweetie,” he said, “but let me see you hug that rod. The pole is my giant dick. I want to see it between your legs, between your boobs. I want to see you kissing it like a lover. I want to see you stroking the tip up over your head.”

“Oh, YES, Mr. Grimalde!”

She wrapped her legs around it below, hugging it tightly as she ground into it. Her arms reached over her head, caressing and stroking the pole lovingly. Her mouth and tongue made love to the brass prick.

In her intent worship of the surrogate cock, she didn’t notice as Nigel walked over to a large chest against the far wall and pulled out some toys. She did notice, however, when he was suddenly standing in front of her.

“Mr. Grimalde, I want you so bad. Please f—”

“Shh,” he interrupted, “Just keep loving my brass cock.”

She moaned in response, and then moaned deeper as he reached out and caressed her right breast. The shock of pleasure threatened to overwhelm her, until he fastened and tightened down a vice-like nipple clamp. Somehow the pain only seemed to add to the pleasure. He repeated the procedure with her left tit and surveyed his handiwork. There was now a foot of jewelry chain connecting her tits together between the two cruel clamps, loosely binding her to the pole.

She whimpered as his heavenly touch left her. He walked around behind her and gently pulled her hips back away from the pole. She had to bend deeply at the waist and arch her back in order to keep her tits close to the pole, to keep the clamps and chain from ripping her nipples off. He then kicked her legs apart until they were spread wide.

Patty was babbling incoherently, muttering about the pain in her nipples, begging to be fucked, and still trying to follow her orders to orally and manually worship the metal dick in front of her. Nigel pulled out his next toy, a large wooden paddle with word “SLUT” engraved in mirror-image. Briefly he fondled her ass, admiring it’s perfection and reveling in the moans she offered at his touch.

Then, without warning he brought the paddle down. Hard.

WHACK! Patty screeched and involuntarily jerked away from him, nearly tearing out her still-trapped nipples.

“Come back here and hold still,” he barked.

“Y-yes, Mr. Grimalde,” she said pitifully.

Talking directly to the word “SLUT” now boldly printed on her upthrust ass, he said, “You know, you super-sluts really piss me off. Blundering in where you don’t belong. Disrupting my legitimate business with your amateurish sleuthing. From now on you are going to dedicate your life to making me happy. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Mr. Grimalde! I’m sorry, Mr. Grimalde!”

And she really was sorry. She felt awful, and it wasn’t just the pain from the paddle. He was angry at her. The very thought made her feel positively sick. She had to find a way to get back in his good graces.

WHACK! Her tits bounced in sympathy with her abused ass, and her nausea and dizziness threatened to overwhelm her, but she held her position.

“I can’t hear you.”

“I’M SORRY, MR. GRIMALDE!”

WHACK! “What are you going to do about it, bitch?“

“I’LL MAKE YOU HAPPY, MR. GRIMALDE!”

WHACK! “And how are you going to do that?“

“I’LL DO WHATEVER YOU WANT, MR. GRIMALDE!”

WHACK! “If I want to fuck you?“

“I”D LOVE TO FUCK YOU, MR. GRIMALDE! I’D LOVE TO BE FUCKED BY YOU! PLEASE, PLEASE FUCK ME!”

WHACK! “If I want to punish you?“

“I’VE...I’VE BEEN BAD, MR. GRIMALDE! PLEASE PUNISH ME! SCOLD ME! SPANK ME! I WANT TO BE BETTER!”

WHACK! “Will you be a good girl from now on?“

“YES, MR. GRIMALDE, I’LL BE GOOD. I’LL BE THE BEST GIRL IN THE WORLD FOR YOU! HOW CAN I PROVE IT?”

WHACK! “I think ten more licks ought to do it. So tell how many more licks you need, and I’ll give them to you.“

“THANK YOU, MR. GRIMALDE. I NEED TEN MORE LICKS.”

WHACK!

“THANK YOU, MR. GRIMALDE. I NEED NINE MORE LICKS.”

WHACK!

* * *

When Nigel had delivered the last lick, he surveyed his artwork. Her bubble butt was covered with a palimpsest, overlays of the word “SLUT”, drawn in welts and contusions. Even as he watched though, he could see her healing power at work slowly clearing up the bruised and torn flesh. By morning not a trace would remain. He told her she was a good girl, and watched as the “green around the gills” look faded and was replaced by a broad, sexy grin. He repositioned the clamps so that the chain no longer bound her to the pole. Then he walked off dragging Patty behind him, pulling her along by her tit-chain.

Back up the spiral stairs to the bedroom for the main event. The pain in her abused nipples was bringing tears to her eyes, but she thrust her chest forward and tried her best to keep up.

Once back in the bedroom, Nigel eased the clamps off of Patty’s nipples, but to her horror that only made the pounding pain worse. Somehow though, whenever, wherever he touched her, it made it all alright. It didn’t make the pain go away, but his touch somehow made the pain just not matter. His touch was amazing. It made her feel sexy-good all over. She had never felt anything like it.

He crushed her hot, sweaty, naked body into him, pressing her into a soul-deep, full-body French kiss. She was sheltered in his arms. She was lost in his eyes. She was penetrated and laid bare by his tongue. She knew that there was nothing, literally nothing, that she would not do for this man. This GOD!

Somewhere in the back of her mind she wondered if she would ever see Angie again. Her God could just tell her to forget about Angie, to just stay with him, and she somehow knew that she would. She would abandon her friend for this. It scared her. It thrilled her.

As he surfaced from his tonsil-diving expedition, Nigel considered his options carefully. Let’s get this woman fucked first. Then we can start the real fun.

“Do you want me, baby doll?", asked the tycoon.

In response, Patty moaned and furrowed her brow.

“Not very articulate for a straight-A student at Pepperdine. Why don’t you try again? Tell me exactly what you want.”

Another moan morphed into speech, “Mmmmmy pussy. Please Mmmmister Grimalde. Fill it. Fuck it. Fuck me. Use me. I want you inside me so bad I’m gonna scream.”

“Calm down now, child,” he said, “Tell me exactly what you want. Be specific.”

“I...I-I-I wa-wa-want your cock, your heroic, amazing, beautiful, powerful cock. I want you to fill me up with it. I want you to fill my wet, needy cunt with your perfect, giant rod. Oh GOD, I feel like I’ll come as soon as you touch me with it!”

“Now, now. It’s rude to come without permission. Right?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Grimalde, but I want it so bad!”

He smiled, “Well, then. I need you to help me get undressed.”

“Oh YES, Mr. Grimalde! Thank you!” Her hands immediately rose to his shirt buttons, but he stepped back.

“Uh-uh-uh. Undress me with your mouth.”

Moaning again with frustration, she balanced on her tiptoes and nuzzled his chest to get to his top shirt button. She began struggling to free it from the button hole. While she worked tongue, teeth and lips over the button trying to unlock its secret, he casually picked up a lock of her hair and brought it to his nose, inhaling her fragrance. After the first couple of buttons she got the hang of it and progressed down his chest and stomach, kissing her way down from one button to the next, putting on a sultry show of each unbuttoning.

Nigel was already rock hard so he began to need to exert his self-control a bit. Soon she was pulling out his shirt tails with her teeth. Then she turned to his wrist to undo a cuff link. As she did, Nigel brought his hand to her cheek. The rush of pleasure, so much like that at the start of the evening, threatened to derail her, but she managed to undo first his right cuff, then his left. Grabbing the shirt sleeve in her teeth, she gently tugged it from his arm. She walked behind him coquettishly pulling the shirt off as she circled him.

Next she unlaced his shoes, Pulling off the shoes and socks with her teeth. Confronted with his bare feet, she took a moment to worship them, covering them with kisses. Now, bringing her head up along the inside of his leg, she held his calf, then his thigh. Rising up to his belt, she pressed her cheek into his rock-hard package, eliciting a moan from him! His obvious desire for her was like a drug. She had never felt better in her entire life. She smiled as she brought her mouth to the belt buckle, Pulling loose the leather with her teeth, pushing the metal tongue aside with her own soft, wet tongue. Then to the pants, freeing the clasp, the button, and slowly drawing down the zipper. As she let go of his legs, the pants fell on their own, leaving only a pitched tent made of silk, his boxers. In short order she had them pooled at his feet too.

Now his urgency was driving them. He pushed her back onto the bed, wide-eyed and gasping with equal measures of pain and pleasure in her bruised ass and tortured nipples. He began to consume her, from her ears, down her neck, over her breasts, down, down, until he was tasting the sweet river flowing between her legs. Suddenly he pulled back and flipped her over. He pressed his hot wooden cock between her legs, dry humping against her swollen sex and the hard button of her clitoris.

“So this is what you want?” he said.

“Oooooh, Please, Mr. Grimalde, put it in me. PLEASE!” she pleaded.

Looking down he saw the healing traces of those overlaid bruises, still recognizably spelling “SLUT”. He grinned.

Grasping her hip bone like a handle, he pulled back, resting his cock head against her wet, pink pussy lips.

“You’re beautiful, Patty,” he murmured, “I’m going to fuck you now.”

He thrust forward, parting her lower lips and enveloping his cock in a tight, silky, wet heaven.

His praise and his cock filled Patty at the same time. She immediately began to scream, shouting about how big he was, how he was splitting her in two, how he was hot and hard and filling her up. On and on at the top of her lungs she sang out in praise, in longing, in need. Interspersed with all of this were begging pleas. “Please let me come! Please don’t stop! Please! Please! Please!”

In response he merely continued pounding her pussy like a machine, holding back his own gratification and hers over and over. Soon she was hoarse and whimpering and barely coherent. But throughout it all she was clamping down on him like a vise and moving with him in perfect rhythm. Rising up to meet each thrust, curling away to fight against each withdrawal. Eventually though she was tiring, having trouble holding her position. He grabbed two thick pillows and stuffed them under her to keep her from collapsing.

After countless vigorous ins and outs, he allowed himself to reach the end. Patty gasped. She couldn’t imagine anything thicker inside her but nonetheless he was swelling. She renewed her pleas to be allowed release, and this time her god answered her prayer.

“Come, Patty. Come NOW!”

She screamed through her long-delayed orgasm, and then screamed even louder as he let loose his seed in her. For minutes that seemed like hours she felt his warmth explode within her, while her heaven-sent orgasmic contractions pulled him ever-deeper inside her. She had never felt anything even remotely like it before. She had no idea it was even possible to feel this much pleasure. She couldn’t stand it. She began to pass out.

* * *

She awoke to smooth but strong hands smacking her face. Why did that feel good? Because it’s Him, came the thought unbidden. Now she could hear the voice of her god. Unfortunately he was not pleased with her.

“Wake up, bitch. We’re not done yet,” Nigel said as he pulled out a pair of handcuffs and snapped them on her wrists. “The night is young. We’re just getting started.”

Nigel soon had Seraph in the middle of the bed on her knees with the handcuffs hooked to a chain that held her arms above her head. Over the next few hours, he used both pleasure and pain to torment his new plaything. He brought her to countless orgasms with his fingers and various toys. In between he used whips and riding crops across her thighs, ass, and back to keep her alert. He used her tits, her mouth, her cunt, and even her virgin ass to bring himself off over and over again. He coated her nipples and pussy with an itching cream and forced her to beg for relief, which came in the form of his hands and mouth.

Patty took all of his sexual tortures eagerly. The thrill was beyond anything she’d ever imagined. It was like being in Hell and Heaven simultaneously, and it literally blew her mind. Finally, in the early hours of the morning, the young super heroine was shivering uncontrollably as she was consumed by a continuous rolling orgasm. Whenever it began to ebb Nigel would do...something. Rub her clit. Pinch her nipple. Blow in her ear. Smack her quivering ass. Any and all set her off again on the next explosive chain reaction of pleasure.

Nigel smiled evilly. She was even more fun than the other two. He saw the future opening up before him, and it was good.

* * *

Part IV—Discovering

When dawn finally came, Nigel left her, still bound to the bed, her body soaked in sweat and cum and her own cunt juices. He took a leisurely shower while she lay there drowning in her own mind-raped afterglow. After the shower Nigel took his time with the remainder of his morning routine, shaving, brushing teeth, whistling happily to himself as he dressed for his work day. Meanwhile Patty slowly began to come back to her senses. As she opened her eyes she saw him walk over to the bed carrying two keys. The larger key he dropped on the mattress right in front of her face. The smaller he used to open the handcuffs.

“Wha-wha-wha’s this?” Patty said, startled at the weakness of her own voice.

“This key is an elevator emergency manual operation key,” said Nigel, “like the ones that firefighters use. But unlike the regular fire department key this one can turn further to an extra unmarked setting. If you do that the elevator descends to a hidden sub-basement under the building.”

“Wha? Wh-wh-why do I need that?”

“One night with me and the smart girl is already getting stupid,” Nigel said with a feral smile. “You forgot why you came here. You forgot our little ‘deal’.”

Patty shivered again, no longer bound but still lying where he had left her, silently aroused by his verbal abuse. Even so, she somehow willed the cobwebs in her head to clear just a bit more.

“Angie,” she said.

“That’s right. Your friend is down in my sub-basement and that key is all you need to free her.”

“B-but, Blackfinger,” she said, barely audibly, “I gotta make it look like...like...I thre-thre—”

“You’re in no shape to convince anybody that you ‘threatened’ me, little cock-socket. I’ll just tell Blackfinger that you must have stolen the key.”

Patty grabbed the key in one shaking hand and crawled to the edge of the bed. Trying to stand she found that her legs would not support her. She fell heavily to the floor moaning in confusion and weakness.

“Oh, stop with the melodrama, Patty. You can’t leave yet anyway. I’m not done.”

She pulled herself up to her hands and knees and tried with all her might to hear his actual words, and not just the commanding voice of her perfect God/Lover.

He continued, “I’m willing to offer you a three part amendment to our previous deal. Amendment Number One: If you can go down to the sub-basement and free your friend, that’s it. We’re done. You will never have the, ah, ‘pleasure’ of my ministrations ever again. This is pretty much our original deal, but I’m clarifying that it closes the door on any future contact between us.”

Seraph moaned again, she was hopelessly addicted to him, and they both knew it. But I have to be strong, for Angie, she thought to herself, I can still free her. I can still free ME. But... how would that even work? I have to have him! I have to be his! I HAVE to!

“Two, if you leave the key here, leave the building, leave Angie to her fate, then I will share my ‘puppet master’ secret with Blackfinger. I’m quite sure he will satisfy himself with Avenging Angel just as I have with you. But I don’t suppose my, ah, ‘colleague’ will be as sporting as I have been. I expect Angie will spend the remainder of her days on her knees begging Blackfinger to fuck her blind.

“Oh, and maybe—I’m not promising anything—maybe from time to time I will summon you back here when I feel like a little super-slut booty call.”

Involuntarily, Patty’s pussy began to moisten again at the thought. I can’t do that. I can’t abandon her, but against her very will she contemplated it anyway, But at least he wouldn’t be cutting me off, not really. All is have to do is sell out the closest thing I have to real family. NO! I can’t! Um, can I? Her confusion, her inner turmoil, was epic. But somehow she steeled herself and glowered at him, grunting out a prompt, “And door number three?“

“Ah yes, in the sub-basement, next to Avenging Angel’s, ah, restraints, is a set of instructions. If you follow these instructions to the letter, I will make you into my full-time fuckdoll. Avenging Angel and Seraph will be sister super-slaves of villain brothers; you can both stay with us forever, or at least until we get tired of you.”

Her cunt clinched painfully. The word “forever” echoed in her tortured mind. More than anything right now she wanted “forever” with Nigel Grimalde. More than anything.? she wondered, More than I want to free Angie? She shook her head, NO!! I have to get Angie! I have to get her out of here! I’ll live without him...somehow. The bastard! How can he do this to me?

From somewhere deep inside she found a reserve of strength she didn’t know she had. “You...fucking...bastard,” she groaned.

Even so, her cunt spasmed in spite of her. Her need threatened to consume her. That act of defiance took all her strength. Even now Patty knew that if he were to whip his dick out, she would bow down to him and beg for it.

Nigel, however, was unfazed by her little rebellion. “Bastard? HA! I suppose. Fucking? Well, you should know ALL about that by now. In any case, I’m a very busy man, and I can’t stand here toying with you all day long.”

The key in her hand suddenly buzzed. Looking at it she was surprised to see a tiny spot of green light at the top of the key.

Nigel continued, “The light is the start of a progress bar that runs down the length of the key. You have one minute to leave this apartment. If you are still here when the time runs out the key will melt, which will leave you only with option 2; your friend is lost and you will only fuck this ‘fucking bastard’ again if I feel like it.”

With that, he walked out, leaving her on all fours, still trying to get herself together. She heard an additional crunch after the door shut and realized that he must have dead-bolted it.

Probably titanium alloy. I’ll have to find another way out of here. Come on, Patty. Get moving. Angie needs you! Patty lurched to her feet. Wobbling, head spinning, she looked down at her cum-covered, naked body.

Damn, my suit’s downstairs. I threw it all over the fucking room! Patty staggered out of the bedroom and dove over the balcony, bringing out her Seraph wings as she fell. Angie had made me practice that maneuver so often I could do it in my sleep. She felt a twinge at that thought. She needed to hurry. Flying around in the dimly lit room, she found her bodysuit, gloves, and ONE boot. Fuckfuckfuckfuck!! She looked at the key. There were 3 more green dots, each one becoming progressively more yellowish.

In desperation she flailed around the room and finally found the other boot UNDER one of the throw pillows in the den. Her underwear were nowhere to be seen. The dots were two-thirds of the way to the tip of the key, the latest dot bright orange. Goddammit! There’s no way I’ll have time to dress! I’ve gotta get out of here! She looked around the living area for the exit and despaired. A door to a bathroom, a door to a dining room and kitchen, a door to an electrical closet, but no exit door.

Three more dots and Angie is lost forever! THINK! Looking up at the balcony opposite the bedroom, Patty saw a pair of oaken double doors, just like the ones through which the chef had exited the office last night. Clutching her clothes to her naked breast she flew up and through the double doors as fast as she could. Had she gotten out in time? Patty stared at the angry red-orange glow of the next to last dot on the key. I made it. It didn’t melt.

Then she noticed her surroundings. Oh SHIT! I forgot where we were! The apartment was AT HIS OFFICE!

There she stood in the main hallway of Grimalde Tower’s top floor office suite, right at the start of the workday. The hallway was full of busy people in their finest business attire. The murmur of conversation stopped. The entire office staff froze in their tracks. Before them was a sopping wet, naked, winged woman. She looked as if she could barely stand. She smelled like a Bangkok whorehouse on payday.

With an electric click, Nigel’s cheerful voice came over the intercom, “Ladies and gentlemen, how about a nice round of applause for River City’s FIIIIINE-est and most, ah, ‘giving’ heroine! I give you: Seraph!”

Well, when your eccentric billionaire boss says applaud, you applaud! Patty furled her wings behind her and hobbled across a hallway that was suddenly erupting in clapping, catcalls, and whistles. As she pushed the down button at the elevator bank someone even smacked her hard across the ass. She turned around, slowly, afraid she might fall. Her assailant could have been any of a dozen men, all of whom were openly leering at her. The women were staring too, smug, superior smirks on all their faces.

As soon as I free Angie, I am gonna come back here and defenestrate his sorry ass, she thought, Ha! Who am I kidding? I’ll be lucky to get us out of here in one piece.

The elevator finally arrived. A couple of very confused worker bees got out. Patty got in. Her eyes were dead as she stared at the other people waiting to enter. They all decided to take the next one.

Insert key. Turn PAST the “Manual Operation” notch. Down we go. I’m coming for you, Angie!

The door opened. After the cool, clean, air-conditioned elevator car, the heat and the stench of sex was a fist to Patty’s gut. What the fuck is going on down here? Then she thought about what ‘the fuck’ had been going on up in the penthouse all last night. The smell and her own need caused her knees to buckle, and she hit the concrete floor hard.

Struggling back to her feet, Patty left her balled-up uniform forgotten on the floor. She heard a weak, helpless whimper. She staggered around the corner, toward the sound. What she saw shocked her, even as it made her needy pussy clench uncontrollably.

Coming up behind Angie, Patty saw her friend held spread-eagle on an X-shaped restraining rack. Between Angela’s legs Patty saw what was clearly some sort of plastic rod. Although Angie’s body blocked Patty’s view, it was obvious from the humming noise and the puddle on the floor that the rod was a vibrator, buried deep in Angie’s sopping wet vagina. Clearly, Angie was cresting on the edge of a monstrous orgasm. Patty’s own awakened sex began to twitch in sympathy. Then the armature holding the vibrator pulled back and out of Angela’s reach. Angie moaned loudly as she arched her back, straining hopelessly to make her cunt follow the retreating vibrator.

And then Patty heard a sound she had never heard before from her friend. Angela was crying. Not in silent self-pity. Not in angry frustration. Angie was wailing and sobbing like a little girl, as if some big bully had stolen her ice cream cone. Angie was crushed. Angie was broken. There was nothing left of the hero she had been.

Suddenly Patty wasn’t doing so well herself. Dangling from the back of Angie’s torture rack was a clipboard holding a set of numbered statements: Door number three.

* * *

Watching from his office, Nigel perked up when Patty started sobbing in harmony with Angie. Helplessly, even in spite of herself, Patty picked up the clipboard.

This is it, she thought. If I follow these instructions...if I do everything right...if I turn Angie into a slave, then I can be a slave too. Then I can belong to him. Her insides were churning, but finally she knew what she wanted. She had to do this.

1. Remove the ball gag

Patty unclasped the gag from behind Angie, still out of sight. Nigel turned up the sound just in time to hear Avenging Angel’s rasping whisper, “Who is that? Blackfinger? Please, Blackfinger, please let me...go. No. NO! Just...just let me cum...please...s-s-s-sir. pleasesir. pleasepleasepleaseplease...”

“Angie. It’s me, Patty.”

“Patty! Pattypattypatty. Patty-pie, Patty-puppy, Pitty-patty, thankgodthankgodthankgod you’re here. Can you...can you turn on that dildo?...And...an-an-and put it ba-ba-back in me...please?”

“No, Angie. I...I need to do something else for you...for us,” she gasped. Now Patty is standing in front of Angie, cupping her breast, rubbing her wet swollen sex.

Angie was confused. “Patty-baby. You don’t have to do that. I-I-I know you don’t...you don’t feel...” The rest was lost amid Angie’s groan of joy.

2. Make love to Angie. Make it good. Make it hot. Get her off.

“It doesn’t matter what I feel, Angie.” Patty brought her face a hair’s breadth from her mentor’s. “If I do everything just right, I know that I’ll be rewarded. Then I’ll feel...”

kiss

“...just...”

deeper kiss

“...fine.”

Patty began to make love to Angie in earnest. She hadn’t forgotten anything from the “Aphrodite” slave days. She knew just what Angie loved. Angie cried, but they were clearly tears of joy. She moaned and gasped and, before long, she came, screaming and crying, professing her undying love for Patty, releasing days of pent up sexual tension.

Angie was shocked when Patty abruptly ended the tender moment and turned back to the clipboard. “But Patty...”

“Shh. Angie. I have to do all of this just right. Please let me concentrate.”

“Ar-aren’t you going to release me.”

“Sorry, Angie. The instructions don’t say anything about that.”

“Oh...then...um...can I have the dildo? Please? Pretty-please, Pretty-Patty? Pleasepleasepleaseplease...”

“Sorry Angie. I have to follow directions. Now sh-h-h-h. Let me work.”

Angela began to sob again, louder than before. Am I going mad? Is this some sort of hallucination? Doesn’t Patty love me again? Then why isn’t she helping me? Why isn’t Patty-belle helping me get that plastic dick!?

3. In a box on the left side of the rack is a dildo gag with a feeding tube. Secure it tightly. The tube will feed her water. Make sure it is not kinked or pinched. The dildo is coated with a catalyst that converts a second agent into a mind control drug. The second agent is in the water.

Patty shuddered as her cunt began to twitch again, So THAT’S how he did it. I wonder how he got the catalyst and agent into me. Maybe the catalyst was on the Blackfinger card but the agent was in the wine? Who knows? The agent could have been in everything we ate as long as I’m the only one who got the catalyst. Or vice versa! No the catalyst is probably more stable, probably stays in your system longer. Catalyst first. Agent later. What does it matter? I’m so screwed. Why do I even care how?

Seeing Patty’s confusion, something clicked inside of Angie. Angie was lucid again. And it looked like she had an opening. She spoke up, “Wait...what directions are those, Patty?”

“Just things I have to do, to...to be a good girl, to get...to get my reward.”

“Oh, Patty... Did Blackfinger get to you?”

Tears began to roll down Patty’s cheeks.

“No, Angie. Nigel Grimalde did. I...I belong to him now. I can’t escape.”

“Patty! Don’t you know? Didn’t you realize? Nigel Grimalde IS Blackfinger!“

Patty’s composure vanished. Now it was her turn to cry like a little girl. “He-he is? But...that’s awful. Oh, Angie, he really does own me. What’ll I do? I can’t fight him. I...Angie, I love him! Oh God, what’s gonna happen to me?”

Overhearing this, Nigel was almost as shocked as Patty. When did Angela figure THAT out? She surely didn’t suspect anything when Delores slipped her the knockout drug. Did she figure it out while she was hanging on this rack? He resolved to ask her later. But now Angie was talking again.

“Shh. Shhh. It’s gonna be okay, Patty. Look, you don’t have to do it. You don’t have to be his puppet. Get me out of this thing! We can escape! We can be free! Just like we got free of Aphrodite!”

How can I explain it to her? Patty thought, I can’t get free. It’s even worse than it was with Satore. I’ll never be free again as long as I live. And soon, Angie, neither will you...

With a powerful effort of will, she brought herself back under control, under Blackfinger’s control. “If you follow these instructions to the letter,” he had said. She had to pull herself together. This was too important to mess up. As Patty approached with the dildo gag, Angie grew frantic. She had lost. Patty was going to betray her, and betray her own self too.

“Angie,” said Patty, “I have to put this gag in now.”

“No. Patty. Don’t do it! You can fight it! You can f-arglllt.”

4. Suspended from a hook on the right side of the rack apparatus you will see a virtual-reality helmet. This will play her “training presentation”. The vibrator will now synchronize with the presentation, providing incentive, reward, and punishment all in one. Please secure it tightly. We don’t want to lose valuable time putting it back on if it comes off.

She looked into Angie’s wild pleading eyes one last time. Everything is going to be so different the next time I see you.

Patty had to fight Angie to get the helmet on and strapped down tight. But she did it. She watched Angie relax as the drug and the training program took hold.

5. Facing Avenging Angel’s restraint rack you will see a rack of your very own. Turn on the vibrator mechanism beside your rack; the machine is smart enough NOT to begin operation until all of your appendages are secured.

Done. The vibrator began to hum pleasantly, making her pussy drip in anticipation.

6. Push the call button on the side of the rack. My assistant will be by shortly to help you with the rest of the procedure.

Patty pushed the button and waited, then she heard Angela’s muffled scream. The machine had finally let her have her first vibrator orgasm, after God-knows-how-many hours...days of sexual torture. Angie must be cooperating with the program nicely. Good girl, Angela, Patty thought, Good girl.

Patty could hear the clicking of heels, and then the assistant rounded the corner. This last jolt was almost too much for Patty. The assistant was Delores Gutierrez! Patty’s eyes went wide. Frantically she searched through her Tear Memories for any association between Grimalde or Blackfinger and Eagle Woman. There wasn’t any.

“Deedee, what are you doing here?” Patty asked in shock.

“Oh, Patty. Isn’t it obvious?” Delores said, shaking her head, “He owns me. Just like he owns you. Just like he’s gonna own Angie. And there’s nothing we can do about it.”

Patty couldn’t understand. “How did he find you? How did he get to you?”

Delores smiled. “How did he find me? I don’t know. He told me it wasn’t hard to find out that I was Eagle Woman, but I don’t know how he did it. Somehow he slipped me the catalyst and the agent. And then... Then he put me through the training you are about to get. I’m trapped. I’m his forever. I even...Patty, I helped him bring down Angie.”

Patty was still at a loss. “But why didn’t he give Angie the drug right away? Why did he make her wait until now?”

“Oh, Patty, can’t you see that YOU are the key to the whole thing? Angie’s getting a little long of tooth to be dodging bullets. She never told you, but she was going to retire in another five years or so anyway. Mr. Grimalde wanted you to do the deed to Angie—because he wanted to be absolutely sure how much you were under his thumb. And you are, aren’t you, Patty? Hey, hey, don’t cry! Patty-baby, we’re gonna have so much fun together. We just have to make him happy. And that’s not really so hard now, is it?”

Sobbing openly now, Patty replied, “But Deedee, I don’t wanna be a slave again.”

“Honey, it’s too late to worry about that now. I know that for you this slave training is pretty much a formality. He’s owned you since last night. But you need to do it anyway. You’ll be happier after you’re fully trained. Come on, open wide for the gag. Don’t you want to be good for him? He’ll be so disappointed if you fight it.”

Patty knew that Deedee was right. She knew she would hate herself if she disappointed him. So she obeyed. She took the gag and was silenced.

“Now let’s get the helmet. There! Now let’s do your right arm.... And now your left.... Left leg now, honey.... You’ll have to stretch way out.... Just a bit further. There. Now put your weight on the left while I put the right in the last shackle. Great. All done. I’ll be by later to see how you two are doing. Bye!”

Bitter water squirted into Patty’s mouth. She swallowed immediately. “Good girl, Patricia,” said Nigel’s voice in her new virtual world. The vibrator gently invaded her exposed, eager cunt, but she was already feeling good. I’m a good girl! The thought thrilled her. She was ready. Training had begun.

* * *

The show was over for now. Nigel turned the sound back down. This had been an excellent test of the power of his drug. Patty had personally betrayed her mentor, her best friend, the closest thing she had to a real mother. She had performed the very acts that doomed Angie to life as a sex-slave. And Patty had done it just so she could belong to Nigel.

A man who could truly understand the shape and uses of such power could do some amazing things with a tool like this. He knew he was that man. The secret was not to overreach. Who needs to rule the world? What a headache! I’ll be happy just ruling my harem. Well, maybe city hall, too.

He thought about the end of the training program, only 12 hours away. I will have to do something about Angie. Too scrawny, too flat. Pretty enough in the face though, and you can’t beat naturally blonde, naturally wavy hair. She’ll be fine after just a little work. Patty will be tougher. She surely doesn’t need any work. But her loose ends are pretty complicated. She can finish off the semester at Pepperdine and transfer to River City U. It’ll be a big step down for her, but she’ll want to be close to me. Yeah. She’ll want that a lot. And she can certainly justify the transfer as needing to be near Mommy. And she will be plenty closer to Mommy. And plenty closer to Aunt Deedee too. I’ll make sure of that.

* * *

Epilogue—Flying

By the time she got home from Pepperdine at the end of the school year, Mr. Grimalde had already arranged everything. Patty’s transfer to (yuk) River City University was a done deal. Their “new look”, hers and Angie’s, was ready for the grand unveiling. Angie’s boob and butt implants were incredibly good work. They looked entirely natural. They felt different from natural though. You can’t really fool the sense of touch that easily.

They still got to chase down crooks, well, the ones that Mr. Grimalde let them have. In fact, now it was easier than ever. Before they had always relied on their speed and aerial agility to dodge gunfire, and, occasionally, on their rapid healing when someone got lucky. Long ago Angie had even taken a crossbow bolt through the shoulder. That magical healing really was amazing though; there wasn’t even a scar anymore. But now the word on the street was that anyone who took a shot at them would have to answer to Blackfinger, personally.

No one even tried to resist them anymore. Of course, the flip side was that anyone they captured found themselves represented at trial pro bono by the best—and most expensive—criminal lawyers in the state. And even if they ended up serving time it was always easy time, courtesy of Blackfinger’s men on the inside. Heck, getting arrested by the Flying Dykes was almost like winning the lotto.

Oh, yeah. There was that too. They were embracing their once-hated nickname now, showing off with lots of aerial PDA, among other things. Mr. Grimalde had made them rename themselves to match their new, humiliating, costumes. Angie wore a lacy light-blue bikini (That’s a generous description. It’s really lingerie.), opaque white thigh-high stockings that seemed to stay up by magic, and matching light-blue 4-inch “fuck me” heels. She now answered to the call sign of “Blue Sky Angel”. Patty’s costume was identical, but in yellow instead of light blue. And now she used the call sign “Sunshine Angel”. She hated it.

And both of them now wore completely unnecessary wide, pink-tinted, wrap-around visors. The press had already started calling them “rose-colored glasses”. The visors also had Bluetooth headsets built in, so that Mr. Grimalde could direct them from the ground. In fact they didn’t even really patrol anymore. Mr. Grimalde just sent them where he wanted them to go.

Patty mostly took the lead now, since Angie was a bit, well, spacey. In her most lucid moments though, Angie could be amazingly insightful. It was Angie who first realized that their “rebranding” wasn’t just to amuse Mr. Grimalde and get his rocks off. She realized that he was trying to use them satirize and maybe even discredit the very idea of superheroes. Patty knew Angie was right. It was all a sham, but there really wasn’t anything she could do about it. They were happy in a way that he didn’t seem to be making much headway with that whole “discrediting” thing, even though their personal reputations as heroes were definitely in the toilet.

Of course, Mr. Grimalde knew all this. They couldn’t hide anything from him. “Y’know,” he had said to her, “You could learn a thing or two from her still. She hardly has a brain left in her head, but she still tries to use it. You don’t have to be stupid to be sexy.” In fact, around the apartment Mr. Grimalde didn’t expect, or put up with, any of the bimbo bullshit he demanded from their public personas. He even called them—and insisted that they call each other—“Angela”, “Patricia”, and “Delores”.

Life in general was a lot more relaxed for the Flying Dykes as Mr. Grimalde’s slaves. Most evenings they could be seen chasing each other in the sky above Grimalde Tower. They claimed that it was a training exercise, but really it was a contest. The winner, the first one to grab the other one’s foot, got the first orgasm. Mr. Grimalde was a remarkably fair and impartial judge, and always very generous in awarding the prize.

(end)