The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Story: Tiger Eyes

by J. Darksong

VI.

The fresh air helped to clear Shanna’s head a bit. Making her way back across campus, she found a smile creasing her lips. She felt good... better than she’d felt in a long long time. Everything in her life was going so well. She had friends. She was doing well in her classes. And best of all, for the first time she had friends, real friends, loyal and trustworthy, that she could depend on.

Incredibly cute friends. Sexy, too.

Shanna blushed involuntarily at the thought, her natural shyness kicking in. My, all these new sudden changes in my life... they’re affecting me more than I thought. She flashed back on the image of the day before, of Devon and Alvin, being pleasure and played with by the two girls obviously under their sway. Her blush deepened, and her nipples hardened even more. I know I should be totally disgusted with such a display, she thought dimly, as she turned the corner to the alleyway leading back to the campus proper, but somehow it just doen’t seem so... distasteful anymore. I could almost see myself in that position... well, almost. In a fantasy, maybe.

Walking up to the Math Department Building, she found her thoughts shifting away from Alvin and Devon to her newest acquaintance, Jeffrey Chandler. Despite somehow falling asleep at Alvin’s house and waking up late, she had made remarkable time getting back on campus. Sprinting up the stairs, she entered the class room even before the teacher arrived. Perfect! she thought to herself. I’ll be able to slip into a seat across from Jeffrey this time, instead of having to take whatever seat is leftover.

Calculus class flowed past like a hazy dream. All of Shanna’s thoughts centered around Jeffrey as she studied him with an artist’s eye, trying to learm his every curve, every line, burning every detail of his physical perfection into her memory. Her brain was on auto-pilot, devoting all her conscious energy into Jeffrey, but the rest of her mind was soaking in the random thoughts going on around her. When the teacher caught her staring dreamily at her classmate, and questioned her as to where he had just stopped in the lesson, she rattled off the answer without missing a beat.

For his part, Jeffrey tried to center his attention on the discussion going on in class, only glancing occassionaly in Shanna’s directing, flashing his perfect smile before turning back to his book. Each glance sent a ripple of pleasure through Shanna, and almost before she noticed what she was doing, she was using her Gift, sending thoughts at Jeffrey to get him to turn around and stare at her some more. Only with a supreme effort did she manage to restrain herself.

“Alright, class, that’s all for today,” Dr. Smith replied, closing his book. “We’ll be having a test tomorrow on the material we’ve covered this week, so be sure to study your notes. If you did well on the homework assignments then you should have no problems... if the homework gave you problems, then I suggest you study a bit more.”

As one, the students rose from their seats, a soft jumbled chorus of grumbling sounding as the ionstructor left the room. Shanna stood by her desk, holding her books, wondering how to start a conversation with Jeffrey, when he suddenly turned and face her.

“A test tomorrow,” he groaned. “Man. That is way harsh. I struggled for almost three hours working on those twelve homework problems he gave us last night. This test is going to be killer.”

Shanna blushed. “Well, um, I suppose... I mean, maybe we could... um, you know... study together?” Her voice squeaked as she uttered the last part, and her blush deeped in embarrassment. Jeffery didn’t seem to notice, however, his expression showing only eagerness.

“Really? You’d let me study with you?” he asked. “I saw your paper when Dr. Smith handed it back to you... you really know this stuff. I think I might have a real chance to pass this test with you helping me. So, what do ya say, Shanna? We meet up around 9 o’ clock over at my dorm? We can use one of the study rooms so we won’t be disturbed.”

Not trusting her voice, Shanna merely nodded eagerly. Her heart was beating rapidly, and her lungs seemed to forget how to draw breath. She was caught somewhere between extreme panic and intense joy. She and Jeffrey Chandler were going to study. Alone. Together. At his place.

“Great, I’ll see you then,” Jeffrey said, pressing a piece of paper into her hand. “That’s my dorm room and my phone number. The head resident won’t let us have girls in the rooms at night,” he said making a face, “so when you get there, call me from the front desk, and I’ll be right down.” He smiled again. “Thanks a million Shanna. I really appreciate this.”

Shanna sighs softly, clutching her books to her chest. Not half as much as I do, she thought lightly, as she left the classroom.

* * *

Watching the short exchange between the two, Melinda Wilson growled low in her throat. She waited until they had gone their seperate ways, then she ran up to Jeffrey, sliding up in front of him, blocking his path. “Hey, loverboy,” she said sweetly, flicking her long dark brown hair over her shoulder. “How are you doing, Jeff? Making some new friends?”

Jeffrey closed his eyes briefly, sighing. “Hello, Melinda,” he said, pushing past her. “I’ve got to get to class.”

Grunting, Melinda sped up, following Jeffrey and matching his pace. “Oh come on, Jeffy. Don’t tell me you don’t have a moment or two to chat with an old friend?”

“You mean, ex-girlfriend,” Jeffrey corrected, not stopping.

“Fine, then,” Melinda conceded with venom. “So, things didn’t work out between us. It was high school, we were younger then, not as mature. We all make mistakes.”

Jeffrey finally stopped. “You call sleeping with my best friend behind my back a mistake?!?” he asked incredulously.

Melinda smiled, seeing she had gotten under his skin. “Well, yeah,” she said loftily, “of course it was a mistake. I mean, Brad was pretty nice... but he was nowhere near as good a fuck as you were.” She ran a hand along his cheek. “I mean, there is really no comparison at all, Jeff, sweetie. And if I’d know you would go apeshit about it and break things off, I never would have done it.”

Jeffrey turned away, starting back towards the class. “What the hell did you expect me to do when I found out? You cheated on me, Melinda. Not just with anyone, either, you did it with my so-called best friend!”

Some ‘Best Friend’ if you ask me, Melinda thought sourly. It’s not like he rejected my advances or anything. I spread my legs for him and he dove right in. Besides, he wasn’t even that good!

Melinda again stepped in front of Jeffery. “So... I see you’ve moved on then. Getting nice and cozy with mutant freaks and murderers instead?”

Jeffrey stopped. “Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh? You mean you didn’t know about your new little study buddy’s checkered past?” Melinda smirked. “You know about me, Jeffery, that I was adopted, taken from the orphanage when I was fourteen by the Wilsons. They were rich, and wanted a family, but old man Wilson kept shooting blanks... so they took me in. Not that I’m complaining, mind you. I would have probably gone with just about anyone to get out of that hell hole.”

“Yeah, yeah, I can imagine,” Jeffrey replied, irritated. “What did you mean about that crack about mutant freaks and murderers?”

“Well, your dear little Shanna was there at the same orphanage around the same time I was there. She was always a strange kid, kind of a loner. She had the weirdest yellow green eyes, like a damn tiger or something. Everyone used to tease her, and call her Kitty. Well, three of the older girls used to tease her and pick on her more than all the rest of us. One night they conered Shanna in the bathroom and started shoving her around, calling her names and junk. Well, the next day, all three of the girls were DEAD.”

Jeffrey blinked. “Dead? She killed them?”

“Damn straight she killed them! The old matron called the doctor, and the coroner, and they gave us all some bullshit story about ‘natural causes’, something about a brain embolism or some shit... but we all knew who had done it.” Her lips turned up into a sneer. “Sweet, innocent Kitty.”

Jeffrey frowned. “I just can’t believe it. I think you’re just pulling my leg. How could a little girl kill three other older girls in the middle of the night without someone noticing? How could she do it in a way that the police and coroner wouldn’t know it was murder?” He shook his head. “Sorry, Mel, you’re story just doesn’t add up. Now if you excuse me, I’m going to be late for class.”

Melinda smirked evilly watching him go. Fine. Go on to class, Jeffy. It doesn’t matter if you believe me or not. You’ll think about it, though... everytime you are with that little witch, you’ll remember my words. And you’ll start to wonder if it is true or not. She turned, heading towards her own class.

Sooner or later you’ll find out what she really is, and then you’ll come crawling back to me.

* * *

VII.

James Denton sighed softly as he watched the members of his board of directors file out of the board room one by one. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting his thoughts return to the past. There had been a time, once, when he had savored these meetings, when he ate, slept, lived and breathed the mundane aspects of running his company. The day his father had died, leaving the entire company to him, it had been his life.

And then, came the fateful day that he’d nearly lost it all.

Straightening his papers, he gathered the reports back into his briefcase and rose from his seat. He still remembered the day, the same day that the accident had occurred. He’d been under a lot of pressure from the government to develop his new top secret nerve gas, and he’d been running his scientists in the R&D branch to exhaustion trying to get a working sample before the deadline. They’d been complaining to him just the day before that he was rushing things, that the new safety precautions were not enough for the breaknech pace they were taking, but he’d brushed them aside, blinded by the need to suceed by the deadline.

Thirty researchers, lab techs, scientists, and lab assistants, had been in the room when the containment on the newest experimental sample failed. The panic that erupted in the sealed room was short lived, as the thirty men and woman dropped to the ground, unconscious within seconds. Luckily, perhaps, the sample had not proved fatal, and they all recovered, none the worse for wear. Unfortunately, it signalled the end for James Denton; several of the researchers quit over the incident, and filed charges against him. He was taken to court and sued for every dime to pay for emotional damages for the accident. He had missed his deadline with the military, who rescended their contracts. His estate was tied up in the legal battle, his company taken from him and sold on the open market. In the space of a week he had gone from king to pauper.

Likely he would have ended up sleeping in the gutter if it had not been for Olivia.

Denton paused at the doorway for a moment, glancing up at the huge oil panting, the beautifully rendered portrait of his wife. Olivia Van Horton. He closed his eyes for a moment, remembering.

They had been friends growing up, the son of a wealthy industrilist, and the daughter of a wealthy oil baron. They’d lost touch when James had turned twenty-one and taken over his father’s company, moving to Philidelphia to personally oversee every aspect of the company. When his company failed, when he had reached his lowest moment, it was Olivia that took him in. She had loved him since they were children, had always loved him, but with his father’s company to run, romantic pursuits had always taken a back seat. Now, alone and penniless, he realized that he needed her.

Dear sweet Olivia. James turned from the picture. He often wondered if she had known even from the beginning that he had married her only for her money, only as a way to retake what had once been his. He had, he supposed, been a loving and dutiful husband, at least at first. He’d showered her with affection, had done his duties by ramming his cock into her night after night, though he received little pleasure from it. Like a good actor in a play, he played his part dutifully, saying things more by rote than by feeling. It mattered little to him. Within seventy-two hours of their marriage, he had taken steps to begin buying up shares of Denton Industries again, and within a month he’d bought back his company.

Walking to his private elevator, Denton removed the key card from his pocket and slid it into the slot. The numbers began to light up on the display as he headed smoothly down to the research area below ground. A sinister smile creased his features.

It was funny, in a way, how fast his life had changed. In the space of a week, he had been brought to ruinby a single misdeed... his entire purpose in life taken away, his dreams dashed to bits before his very eyes. And yet, at the same time, a new purpose had been given to him. His business remained important to him, yes, but it was no longer his priority in life. After his fall, he had vowed to get revenge on those who had brought him down: the thirty researchers who had blamed him for the accident.

The legal battle between the lawyers had keep his assets frozen. He couldn’t get at it, but neither could they... at least not until the matter was settled. In the meantime, he’d taken steps of his own. Nearly nine months to the day that the accident had occurred, the newly married and wealthy James Denton sent out the first of his hired thugs. He had smiled the next morning reading the paper, seeing the headlines about the three former Denton Industries workers dying in a fatal car crash. It was only the beginning.

His life had taken another strange twist, however, about five years later. The wife of one of the researchers had come to see him, privately. Their son, Travis, had begun to maifest strange and extraordinary powers. He had, it seemed, the power to set things on fire just by focusing on them with his eyes. Looking back, they had determined that her husband’s exposure to the experimental formula had caused a change in his DNA, a change that not affected him, but had caused a radical mutation in his offspring after impregnating his wife. Not knowing what to do, or how to handle this, she had gone to the man that had caused it, James Denton.

The elevator stopped, and James stepped out into the hallway. Entering his office, he felt a swelling of gratitude towards Mrs. Penfield. Nearly all of the work proceeding on the two levels below how office were based on the study and research made on young Travis Penfield. Once his mother had been disposed of, they had been free to conduct in depth studies of his brain tissue, his body chemistry, his entire physiology, inside and out.

A real pity he couldn’t withstand the testing, James thought idly, as he booted up his personal computer. For all the other test subjects my researchers have studied over the years, none were as good as him. Haven’t seen one yet that developed a talent like his. He shook his head. If only I’d known then what I know now... oh well. Hindsight is always twenty-twenty.

His hired henchmen had taken out twelve of the original thirty exposed to the nerve gas before he’d discovered the potential their mutated offspring could offer. His plans had changed slightly at that point. From then on, he had devoted all of his time and resources to finding and obtaining the children of the original thirty researchers.

It was only a natural progression of weapons research, I suppose, Denton mused to himself, as he reviewed the latest data from his pet project, the development of the biological weapon labeled Weapon Delta. Staring dispassionately at the latest reports on the once-human subject, he nodded with satisfaction. Yes. This is definitely cutting edge technology. When this project is finally completed, the military will be falling all over itself to purchase the exclusive buying rights.

He chuckled to himself. I can’t way to see that old blowhard General Wilson down on his knees, begging to do business with me again. Ha! And I’ll make him get down on his knees—that’ll be a condition of the contract. Let him see how it feels to be humiliated in front of his subordinates... the way he’d humiliated ME by tearing up the contracts we’d negotiated right in front of my face.

His jovial mood soured with the memory. Scowling, he turned back to his computer as it squealed, signalling an incoming communication from one of his survalienve units. Irritated, he hit the ‘RECEIVE’ button, and glared at the screen as the words scrolled across the screen. His brows lifted in surprise, and slowly, his scowl lifted, and twisted into his customary smirk.

“Yes. YES! Excellent! This was just the kind of news I was hoping for!” he exclaimed. Eagerly, he pulled his keyboard over, and begin typing a reply. He chuckled softly to himself as his fingers flew over the keys. Things were progressing faster than he’d even hoped. Now, it seemed. he could proceed with the next phase of his testing. He tapped the ‘SEND’ button, and rubbed his hands together eagerly. Sliding his chair back around to the desk, he pressed his intercom.

“Dr. Bradford,” he said with thinly restrained glee, “prepare the testing lab. We’re about to be receiving new test subjects.”

* * *

VIII.

“Yes!! YES! OHHHGGGAAAAWWWDDDD!!! YYYEEESSSSSSSS!!” Amber Towers squealed in ectascy, her hips pumping furiously into Alvin’s crotch, struggling with all her might to suck him deep down into her very core. Her pale somewhat freckled skin glistened with sweat and tears ran down her cheeks as she once again surrendered to the overwhelming and absolute pleasure of being taken by her Master again.

Alvin grunted his pleasure as he fired bolt after steaming bolt of his juices into his little slut’s pussy, thrusting hard with each jolt, prolonging the girl’s pleasure, until finally, at last, his well ran dry. A soft groan escaped his lips as hs fell sideways, back to the bed, in a tangle of limbs and flesh. Amber giggled softly.

“Mmmmm,” she sighed softly. “That was wonderful, my Master. Even better than the last one.”

Alvin chuckled. “Yes, it was rather good, wasn’t it?” He rolled over to the side of the bed, peering down at the copy of the Karma Sutra and flipped the page. “Hmmm. Now this one looks pretty nice. ‘The Egress of the Antelope’. Interesting.” He patted his crotch lightly, and Amber crawled forward, kneeling between his legs. “That’s a good little slut,” he breathed, as the redhead began licking and sucking on his limp, flaccid cock, getting it back to its previous state.

The sound of music suddenly increased dramatically from behind him. Sighing, Alvin turned and glared at his best friend. “Geez, Dev, can’t you see I’m in the middle of something here?”

Devon scowled. “Of COURSE I can see it! See it, smell it, hear it... man you’re fucking like five feet away from me... it’s kind of hard NOT to notice.” Turning back to the game, he turned the volume up even higher.

Alvin sighed again, pushing Amber away, who sighed, a pout crossing her adorable face. “You’re in a bad mood about something,” Alvin guessed, walking over to his friend. “What is it? ARe you still pissed about this afternoon, about Amanda getting out of control and putting the whammy on Shanna? Hey, come on. We caught them in time. You set things right again, and Maxine is in the other bedroom spanking her mother’s ass bright red! No harm, no foul. So, what’s the big deal?”

Devon paused the game and lay down the controller. “I... oh, I don’t know. Yeah, I was kind of upset about Shanna, I guess. Maybe its just having a girl in our little group that makes me feel so... weird.” He shook his head. “I mean, on the one side, she’s one of us. She’s special. She has the Gift. She’s as much a part of our club as Jake and Henry were before they...” He sighed deeply. “Well... just before. She is one of us now. And yet...”

Alvin nodded. And yet, when she was totally zoned out, open and receptive, you got a hard-on thinking about how easy it would be to make her like Amanda and her two daughters here... to have Shanna’s sweet mouth begging to suck your cock, her eyes all glazed over with mindless devotion—

Devon growled. STOP THAT! he thought back at Alvin. That kind of talk is NOT helping matters. Okay... maybe I was thinking the same thing, and MAYBE the thought DID get me kinda hard... but like I said, she’s in the group. Rule One is that we don’t mindfuck members of the group. He scowled. You DO remember what that was like way back before Jake joined and made that rule?

Alvin nodded. He remembered only too well. Henry had been a good guy, all things considered. The only problem was that he was a little too generous with the use of his Gift. Any argument, with a friend, a stranger, or even one of the group, he always had the last word. One of their biggest fights had started when Henry used his Gift to force Alvin into agreeing with him, then Devon fought back, using his Gift on Henry. Neither of them had spoken to one another for nearly a week after that.

Yeah, well, I was usually the low man on the totem pole back then, Alvin admitted. But I see your point. As much as our OTHER head might want to turn Shanna into a mindless bimbo slut... we have to think with the heads atop our shoulders.

Devon’s watch alarm beeped. Turning to the doorway, he nodded as Maxine and Amanda Towers entered, the leggy blonde mother covered in sweat and breathing deeply, as if she’d run a marathon. Devon held up a finger, swirling it, and obediently, Amanda turned, showing her reddened backside.

The twenty minutes of spanking had indeed taken its toll. Amanda’s ass was candy apple red, and from the tiny steps she took entering the room, obviously very sore. Devon nodded in satisfaction. No doubt the woman would remember her misdeed long after the pain finally faded.

“Very good, Maxine,” he breathed, rising to his feet. He ran a hand gently along Amanda’s flank, eliciting an intake of breath. “Yes, very good indeed. I trust Mandy will remember this little lesson from now on?” Choking back tears, the blonde nodded. “Good. Your punishment is now over. Go and lie down on the bed and let Amber tend to your sore little bottom.”

Amanda nodded softly, a small smile forming. Mincing her way to the bed, she lay down on her belly. Amber followed her a moment later carrying a small jar of salve. Amanda winced lightly as she felt her daughter’s soft hand caressing her tender rump, but as the moments passed her gentle touch, and the healing salve, did their work. Amanda sighed longingly, sliding a hand between her thighs, probing her hot dusky wetness.

“Mmmmm, such a good girl,” she muttered softly, her eyes fluttering, as she worked another finger inside herself. “Mother’s good little girl.”

Alvin smirked, shaking his head. “Well, I guess that’s take care of for now. Hey Dev, why don’t... huh? Hey!”

Devon looked up, his clothes half off his body, as Maxine continued to nibble and kiss on his explosed flesh. “What?” he asked with a smirk. “You already had your fuck this afternoon, while Maxine was tending to her mom. Now its my turn.”

Alvin scowled. “Huh. Fine. Then I’ll play with the mother and daughter—”

Uh, uh, uh... Devon thought back at Al. Amanda needs time to recover. So does Amber, for that matter. Yer no stud, but if she was a horse, I’d say she had been ridden hard and put away wet. Let her rest a bit.

“Fine!” Alvin said aloud, sulking. “And what am I supposed to do in the meantime?”

With a grin, Devon gestured to the video game paused on the screen. “Play your new game,” he suggested. “By the time you are finished playing with that joystick Amber should be recovered enough to play with your other one.”

Grumbling softly to himself, Alvin picked up the controller and unpaused the game. “You’re a regular riot,” he mumbled. “You should be on Leno.”

* * *

“Heads up,” Bert announced, glancing at the comm line. “Looks like we have a mesage incoming.

“I got it,” Charlie grumbled, moving over to the digital fax. The teletype unit whirled and sputtered, typing line by line, while the three men in the van sat there anxiously awaiting the news. It had been nearly six hours since they had sent out their report to headquarters concerning their discovery of the three subjects they had been observing. Apparently, HQ had made a decision as to how to proceed next.

The teletype finally whirred to a halt, and the van was once again filled with silence. Charlie ripped out the report, studying it intensely for a moment. A soft curse escaped his lips, and he shook his head, in disbelief, reading the paper again. “Well... I’ll be damned,” he muttered softly.

“Well, Charlie, what is it?” the driver Darrel shouted. “Don’t keep us in suspence! Tell us. What does HQ have to say on the matter?”

Charlie stood there, shaking his head. Bert, flustered, stood up and jerked the paper from his hand.

“Gimme that!” he muttered. “I’ll read it. Ahem... Unit Charlie, designation.... blah, blah, blah... ordered to coordinate matters with Units Alpha and Bravo... yada yada yada... huh?” He peered down at the paper again, eyes narrowed. “The three units are to proceed in the capture of the three survallience subjects. Repeat. Capture. Deadly force is not authorized: subjects are to be taken alive and well with minimal damage?”

Darrel whistled softly. Bert turned to face Charlie. “This can’t be right can it?” he asked, suddenly uncertain. “I mean, if these kids are as bad-assed powerful as everyone seems to think they are... why the hell are we just capturing them instead of wiping them out? ‘The use of deadly force is NOT authorized’? Is HQ fucking insane? What are we supposed to use to subdue them... harsh language?”

Charlie took a deep breath. “Well, you read the report. Apparently old man Denton has special plans for these kids... and he wants us to bring them in alive. Knowing what they can do, I think our best bet is to have each Unit go after one of the kids seperately.” He sighed. “At least that way they are less of a threat. If we can manage to sneak up on them and catch ‘em unaware, we can take ‘em down before they have a chance to attack... and alone, they won’t be able to warn their pals or call for help.”

Bert scowled, looking away. “Still sounds like a suicide mission to me.”

Charlie chuckled. “You know our motto, pal. ‘Every mission is a suicide mission’.” Picking up the radio, he called the other two Units. “Charlie calling Alpha and Bravo. Charlie calling Alpha and Bravo Units. Message from HQ. Plan ‘Knapsack’ is a go. Repeat, Plan designation ‘Knapsack’ is a go. Operation requires ‘kid gloves’, repeat ‘kid gloves’. Subjects to be detained. Reccomend each Unit take a seperate target. Unit Alpha, recommend target one. Unit Bravo, recommend target two. Unit Charlie will take target three. Over and out.”

Bert nodded softly, glancing down at the file open in his lap. “Target three it is, then,” he said, holding up Shanna’s picture. “Let’s get ready to move.”

((to be continued...))