The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I sat up wondering to myself how I had gotten here. Every time I clear one problem, it seems as though two more crop up. Control slips out of my grasp as soon as my fingers close on it. My hope to make things work out have turned against me because I chose to confess. First the police, then the beau…

Sleep would come soon. Sooner if I stopped thinking about the things I’ve done wrong all my life. Dammit, shoo memory, shoo. Unwanted moments of personal reflection.

Finally, sleep claimed me.

“No. I do not want to draw the attention of the federal agencies. Another kidnapping would result in exactly that.”

“I offered to double the bounty on him but no one wants to take it after the last four efforts. Something he did made our shooters turn against the guys that handle the money. The last one came over from the Ukraine. He killed a half dozen of the brokers that manage wet work deals afterwards.”

The man in the wheelchair was thin, drawn, almost white with his skin drawn tightly over his bones. His health wasn’t particularly changed but he was clearly angry. A bony fire lit behind the eyes sort of fury. He’d go kill the guy himself if he wasn’t so crippled.

“I need ideas here. He’s killed one of my people and rendered two more useless. I want that man dead.”

The men and women in his office stood silently.

“Are you all telling me you can’t come up with something at all? Get the hell out of my office. Come back when you have some ideas. Jacob, stay.”

They started to drift out of his office muttering to each other, suggesting already shot down ideas and other efforts to satisfy their boss.

One man with a mustache and roman features stayed behind.

“I’d like to meet with the cleaners.”

“The cleaners sir?”

“Yes, the goddamn cleaners. The ones who take care of our left behind messes. I want them in this office, one at a time.”

“Yes sir.”

This was getting on his nerves.

He thought, ‘I want to go home.’

Home was gone. Childhood was gone. Adulthood was hard. He wanted to return to when he was not the responsible party.

That was long ago and far away now. It felt like that anyway. The daydreams of being younger than ten and running over hills, pretending to be a hero… they were still there. They weren’t nightmares like he was living lately. Why couldn’t he just go home?

It cannot have been so far away and long ago. Could it?

Things were so simple then. Ben shook himself awake.

He’d been sweating. Ginny was on the bed. He petted her hair softly, sifting it between his fingers. He knew she loved him. He didn’t quite have that feeling but he did love her. It might not be what she felt. He would not let her down though. He was her guardian, her protector, her lover, her owner. He was fully committed to taking good care of her.

Rubbing her arm lightly, he got her to stir. With his other hand he held her from getting up from the bed. He watched her eyes slowly peel open.“Yes Sir?”

“Go ahead. Get it.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Go back to sleep.”

It was doubtful she would slumber again quickly. Using his fingers he very softly massaged her scalp.

There is one bridge, one subway stop and one tram leading to Roosevelt Island. The island itself is a small piece of tranquility in the East River next to Manhattan and the Queens. There are apartments, a hospital, other resources and a few beautiful parks out on the island.

The only bridge came from Queens. The Queensboro bridge passes over the island but there are no exits for vehicles from it. Isolated as it is, the city flowed about it with a special kind of peacefulness to it. Peace in New York seemed unusual. But peace in New York happens more often in the city than people realize. Sometime at four in the morning, sometimes at ten in the evening, or as the sun goes down while you watch across forty-second street. It could be sitting at a table in Charlies off Broadway, sometimes just leaning against a building in SoHo in the middle morning. Peace is a brief and yet palpable state of mind the denizens of the city experience daily somewhere during the day.

Paul Browen felt that peace on Roosevelt Island this morning. He’d gotten off the Tram and was standing next to a bagel place, waiting for his order. Something had been going on out here. The detective would be pleased and he hoped, he hoped, he would get paid very well for the tip if he could confirm it.

He’d seen someone out of their usual haunts when heading to his bookie. Since it didn’t make sense, he tagged along as close as he could without being spotted. The trail ended at a medical building he decided to wait out side of. While waiting, other familiar faces went into the place. Some of them decidedly on the shady side of the law. Some others he knew, that just belonged somewhere else altogether.

If he could tip off the detective, he might finally be done being a confidential informant. A single big sting could get him out from under the thumb of the man. He hoped.

Then he could find somewhere warm to feel that peace.

Ben was sleeping when the phone rang.

He was wrapped up in the bed with a woman. He realized it was Ginny. It was one of his favorite ways to wake up, entwined his pet’s arms and legs. And boobs. He nibbled on her neck a moment.

The phone was ringing. He struggled to reach the little box. While he did so, he noted the time was just shy of noon. Good grief, he thought. it’s later than I thought.

“Hello?”

Dr. Moore set down her pen and notepad. The recording device was turned off already. Her last appointment had been gone for ten minutes when there was a knock at the door.

Marilyn opened the door. “Mister Madison is here doctor.”

“Let him in.”

A moment later Ben stepped into the room. He removed his jacket and took a seat. Marilyn pulled the door closed behind her as she left. His eyes moved to the spot on the shelves the recorder was actually located.

“I assure you, it’s off.”

“You called me? Last time I was here, you seemed to have a good handle on your ability.”

“I did indeed call.”

She was quiet a moment.

“You were right. It’s been very helpful in my sessions.”

“Yes. I was sure you’d figure out how many people you can help.”

“Have you thought about how it affects you? I noticed it’s starting to affect me.”

“Oh? I know a few effects it’s had. My life has been a roller coaster lately.”

“How do you deal with the loneliness?”

“What do you mean?”

“When you are with other people, you’re more alone than they are. I am at least. I suddenly feel isolated because I can know what’s going on inside them. They can’t relate to the thoughts the way I can. There is no interpersonal connection as there would be if we were on the same level.”

“Oh, the isolation effect.”

“Isolation effect. Good description.”

“It fits. I don’t know how else to describe it.”

“Changing other people. Isn’t it a bit like playing god to you?”

“God. I’ve no proof there is or isn’t a god. I’m just taking care of myself and those I care about as best I can. I did a poor job for a while but I’m working on it.”

“This thing takes the free will from other people though.”

“I gave that some thought.”

“What did you conclude.”

“I’m still considering it, but I don’t think I’m playing god the way some medical practitioners do.”

“Why is that?”

“There are only two people whose minds I’ve affected really who matter. Others have either been self defense or less than serious contact with their minds. You’re doing more god things than I am.”

She stared at him. In all the years she’d been practicing, she’d always seen it as healing people, not changing them. Now she knew she was changing them. All of them beneficial but it was as he said, god like in the effect.

“What about all the women you used the power to screw?”

“As far as they’re concerned it was consensual. I don’t think even you could tell otherwise probing their minds.” He smiled. “That may be god like. It isn’t so as I see it. They wanted to get laid when I met them. They just didn’t choose me specifically.”

She paused.

“So why did you really call me? I know you wouldn’t do it for some trivial discussion about deity like powers.”

“I’ve noticed the difference between people who have been modified and people who haven’t.”

“Another step forward for you.”

“It seems to me there are an awfully lot of modified people walking around.”

He laughed. He slapped his knee and settled back in his chair.

“What?”

“Does that bother you that lots of people have been touched by telepaths?”

“It implies there are a lot more than I would have expected.”

“When I found you I formed a hypothesis.”

“Oh, how science like of you.”

“Hey. I’m not entirely dim.”

“So okay, tell me this hypothesis.”

“I figure there are people who are shrinks,” he paused and nodded to her, “bartenders, teachers, some cops, some judges even. All with just a touch of the ability. Like you when I met you.”

“So you’re saying the telepathy gene is more common than it seems.”

“That’s what I think. I only barely caught on to you. You were busy treating someone. If you hadn’t been, I don’t think I would have spotted you.”

“A reasonable theory.”

“Hypothesis. I can’t prove it.”

“So, why do I have a feeling I’m being followed. By people who aren’t touched at all?”

“Hold the phone. What did you say?”

“I’ve noticed there are some normal people who haven’t been modified that seem to be watching me recently. Since I met you and got better at looking around me.”

“That’s how my problems seemed to start. I was being followed. Admittedly, it was another telepath though.”

“Can you figure out why these people would be interested in me? I haven’t been able to get anything from them.”

“I will try. Don’t worry if you sense me around you tomorrow.’

“Okay. Please figure this out so I can rest easier. “

“Let me teach you something new you haven’t done yet. I have learned to keep it working all the time.”

“Oh? What’s that.”

“I describe it as ‘I’m not here’. You just need to tell your mind, you are not here. If you do it right, you are invisible to the other telepaths.”

“Seriously?”

“Let’s start. Start focusing on being ‘not here’.”

“’Not here.’ Okay. Let me focus.” She tried to do the disappearing thing.

Ginny let Celia in.

“Hi,” Ginny said.

“Do you mind? I hope Ben isn’t home.”

“Oh, Sir is out. He’s been visiting a shrink.”

“He’s getting therapy?”

“No, he says he’s trying to train her with her talents.”

“You mean the shrink is another telepath?”

“I guess. I don’t know. I’m not concerned.”

“Help me out here,” said Celia. “He’s been essentially raping women. Or was. How is he accountable for anything?”

Ginny stared at Celia for a moment.

“Raping? No. Oh, I see what you mean. Sex without prior consent. They were out there looking for someone to have sex with. He just chose who for them.”

“That’s not consent.”

“No. They did not specifically consent to him. If we talk to any of them, would they say they didn’t enjoy themselves?”

“I don’t think they can say of their own will.”

“Is it any different from going out for a one night stand anyway?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.”

“What’s the real problem you’re having? I know he had a short period he had to work out this very problem. It no longer happens.”

“I like Ben. A lot. But the moral implications and his actions. They bother me. Trust is hard knowing this stuff. Still, thoughts of him still affect me when I’m alone. More than I am prepared to admit to him.”

“Has he really caused any harm? Are those women having life altering trauma from it?”

“Wow. How did you come up with that idea and view?”

“Don’t you know anyone that’s been violently assaulted?”

“How do you know he isn’t somehow making you rationalize all this?” Her hand waved at Ginny’s rather suggestive clothing.

“Oh. I love this. Nothing he and I do is something I didn’t dream about in High School. He’s not making me rationalize it. I wanted to be with someone controlling before. All he’s done since then is to embrace my nature, even inside my head. I’m sure of that.”

“I responded submissively to him. I went to a whole new place in my head.”

“I’ve been in that place in my head too. It has never been as powerfully as it is with Sir.”

“Maybe I can go there again. I am struggling with trust and respect questions, obviously.”

“Let me show you something that happened before I met Sir.”

“What?”

“Just try not to freak. It’s not because of him. I want to explain how hard it can be to find a dom to fit your specific nature.”

“How do you go finding a dom to begin with?”

“There are clubs. There are meeting places. It’s both exciting and frightening.”

“So you’ve tried being with other doms.”

“Yes. Let me show you.”

Ginny stripped off her blouse.

“Before I met Master I was active in a few scene places. The community calls themselves ‘The Scene’. There are a number of places to meet doms. I did not want what happened. I like rough, but not… Let me show you.”

She turned her back towards Celia. Celia gasped. The scars on Ginny’s back were mostly faded but a lot of stripes crossed her both upper left to lower right and upper right to lower left.

“MY GOD!,” exclaimed Celia.

“It’s all from before. Sir knows what I like and never would do that to me. Never. Sir treats me like I’m precious. I know would protect me from anyone.”

“How did that happen? Who would do that to you?”

“A would be master who did not respect my limits. There are submissives who are actually masochistic and enjoy this kind of thing. That’s not me. If Sir chose to do this to me now, I would happily do it to satisfy him but he would never because…”

“Because he can tell when you would break?”

“No, he breaks me regularly,” she turned red. She turned her head a bit and smiled. It seemed like she’d like to relive something. “He heals me though. He heals me so well. I know anything he does that pleases him, I will be made whole again afterwards.”

“That must be hard to go through.”

“It is very intense. I am happy.”

“Is that all because he reads your mind?”

“No. I am happy because he is attentive and cares.”

“He wouldn’t be able to read my mind though. Wouldn’t know when to let up.”

“He’d be very happy to be with you. He is... respectful. He opened up to you. Probably for trust reasons. He’s only opened up to me like that a few times. I was already his by then. He does listen though.”

Celia reflected on Ginny’s comment a few minutes. It required she consider what Ginny had to say a while. She wasn’t entirely as mentally altered as Celia thought it appeared on the surface.

“I gotta go.”

Ginny let her out. She had to sleep and ruminate a bit again.

In the background a saxophone was playing in a rock and roll riff. Ben turned the radio off.

“Yes?,” as he answered the phone.

“Hi Ben,” Janet was on the phone.

“Oh hi there lady,” he responded.

They’d had that dinner on the Tuesday after he’d resigned but nothing happened because, well, he still worked for her and wasn’t willing to create a situation that she couldn’t deny later.

“How would you like to have dinner this Friday?”

“Hold on,” he muted the phone.

“Hey, do we have anything happening this Friday,” he asked Ginny.

“No Sir. Why? Is something going on?”

“Janet wants me to go to dinner with her.”

Ginny smiled. Anything that pleased Sir was just fine by her. She snuck into his bed as often as she could get away with lately, knowing he wanted to comfort her after the incident. What she’d really like is for Celia to let go her fears of him and connect. But it didn’t matter that much. Janet was the only other woman he was acting the least bit interested in. Frankly, his controlling side was so much more satisfying he was so active and wild. Being rewarded was a side benefit unto itself.

He took the phone off mute.

“I’m free on Friday. What did you have in mind?”

“How about a play? I can pick up tickets at the half price ticket booth. All you have to do is coordinate with me on which plays you might find interesting.”

“Okay, I’ll call you. Wednesday would be better for plays, but heck, let’s try Friday.”

Reading someone else’s mind isn’t like opening a book or a file cabinet, turning to the page or folder one wants, then spotting exactly what you’re looking for. For the average Joe, telepathy is an utter fiction. No such thing could be real. Ever.

It’s that thing where each and every person is isolated in their own subjective piece of the universe. It’s implied in the quote from Descartes about only knowing for certain about your own existence. No, that’s not what he said, but only being able to prove one’s own existence doesn’t exactly stretch the world out to include others. Ben’s talent made it possible to demonstrate, at least to himself, that others were thinking. Thus removing all doubt about the existence questions one could have beyond the subjective.

This did not help picking the locks for things someone else knows automatically. Surface thoughts being easy did not make it possible to get past the common bits of someone’s activities. ‘I wonder if I locked the door?’, ‘Did I leave the stove on?’ ‘Every morning, that man stares at my boobs!’ ‘So if the drag ratio of the surface area is to be lowered we need to...’. That last one could have dragged him in to understand, but Ben needed to identify other things.

Spinning his scanning efforts around in the area of Dr. Moore’s office took time. There were tens of thousands of people in range for him. Excluding those more than five blocks away reduced the number.

It took an hour’s worth of visiting mind after mind before tracking down two men taking shifts on the street to watch for Moore. They seemed to be off duty policemen. Getting deeper into their minds to find why unveiled an organized effort by a small police unit to find telepaths. What would or even could have tipped them off to Dr. Moore? He didn’t know but he did find their immediate superiors. One of which was in range for him.

Shortly he learned Sargent Williams doled out the stakeout duties. He used to dole out seizure and transport for interrogation duties too. They needed the specialist to come by to verify the suspected target before they could move on them. After all, the potential targets were only statistically determined by a program the Lieutenant and the Captain ran on a series of computers back in the office.

Ben wondered if this is how the telepaths’ gang leader found him in the first place. It seemed unlikely but possible. These guys had a wide net out over the entire city. It seemed they only actually pulled in one or so per week, but that was enough to make them dangerous anyway. To him. To Dr. Moore.

He hit the speed dial on his phone to Detective Cain.

“Ben?”

“Detective.”

“What news do you have for me?”

“Did you know there’s a small task force in the NYPD that’s looking for telepaths? They are known as the Statistical Mental Resource Investigation Unit. Would make for a horrible acronym, ya know.”

“I think you know the answer to that. If I’d known about it I would have been talking to them while dealing with you.”

“Here’s the deal as I know it so far. They have some kind of computer modeling application that identifies probable telepaths. Then they had a specialist check them out to be sure. It seems they’ve lost the use of the ‘specialist’ at this time. I’m pretty sure their specialist is a telepath, possibly someone I’ve run across.”

“Sounds like a safe bet if the targets are telepaths.”

“After that though they send in a team with sedation to collect the telepath for, get this, what they think is interrogation.”

“Then what happens?”

“None of the officers I’ve been able to check knows what happens to them next. They only know no one has been picked up for a while. They’ve been told their specialist asset had some kind of emergency. There is a captain somewhere I haven’t found yet to get any information from.”

“If they’re a police unit, certainly tracking down telepaths isn’t entirely a bad thing. Not really.”

“Sure, I get that you might think that. With only me to go by, you are probably sensible. Except. Except the people they are finding are often barely aware or totally unaware they have any such ability. I found a shrink who has been using the skill to heal patients.”

“I’m not sure letting people who can control others mentally is a good thing at all. If the department is already sweeping them up, how would we know it’s not entirely a public safety issue?”

“I doubt it. From what I’ve gotten so far, none of their targets ever come back. If they had, they’d have to flag them as already investigated on their search. I’m not a hundred percent sure, but I think they’re being disappeared.”

“Disappeared? That does sound like the kind of thing your telepathic buddies would do.”

“Someone has to be in charge. After having to be inside the Russian’s head, I know there is too. I’m working my way through the chain to try finding them. It might lead to our mysterious Meester Weeezarrd.”

Cain laughed.

“Get me names and department numbers. I can see how legitimate this operation is.”

“You betcha. I’ll be calling back within the hour.”

“I still have my eye on you though. Not that I can stop you, but you better be on your best behavior.”

“As if anything involving me is simple and easy just now.”

Ben got to work digging for information about who reported to who in this special unit. It looked like it could be a lot of work.

“Shaw here.”

“Hey.”

“What’s up?”

“The mind bender just called. He says there’s some kind of special unit for ferreting out telepaths. Sounds absurd, but hell, a month ago I’d have said there was no such bird as a telepath at all.”

“I’ve never heard of any such unit.”

“Well, I can’t just ask people if there’s a special unit for telepaths. Do you know how stupid that would sound?”

Laughter came back from the phone.

“Do you think you can get that woman you know at One Plaza to get us a list of all the special units receiving budget?”?

“Oh, now that’s clever. I’ll give her a call. Meanwhile what are you going to do?”

“I had a strange call from one of my CI’s this morning. Something about some strange thing based over on Roosevelt Island. It’s unlikely enough he might have stumbled on something. I still gotta go check on him.”

“I’ll give you a buzz in a while. Let you know what Cheryl can get us.”

“Close the door if you are going to be alone with her.”

“Ha. As if that would ever happen. Later.”

“Out.”

Elevators are always slowest when you seem to be in a hurry. Ben didn’t want to hurry it this time even though he had picked up groceries and had his arms full. Celia was coming in the lobby while he was waiting. The doors opened, so he held them for her so she wouldn’t have to wait.

“Good Afternoon,” he greeted her.

“Hello Ben.”

“Done with classes for the day?”

“Yes.” He couldn’t help but look in her eyes. To him those eyes were magnetic.

She saw the way he looked at her face and felt her knees going weak,

“I was thinking of taking a short jaunt up to the Cloisters, would you like to come?”

“Sure, that sounds like fun.” Celia wasn’t entirely sure it was a good idea just yet. She still wasn’t ready to say everything was cool or if she didn’t trust him.

“Fine, I’ll come down to get you after I’ve put these bags away.”

They’d gotten out of the train and took the elevator up to the museum. There were a fair number of people. After paying for their entry, Ben looked to Celia.

“We’ve only got about an hour and a half before they close. I forgot at this time of year they close before five.”

“It’s all good. Just wandering through looking at the artwork, statues and whatever special exhibit they have is plenty for me.”

“For me, I want to spend a few minutes in front of the tapestries and look at the stain glass windows. The unicorns are beautiful and the windows are like fresh air.”

The entire trip to get here she realized when he looked at her, all he seemed to focus on were her eyes. When he wasn’t watching her eyes it was as if he was memorizing everything surrounding them. She felt his attention on her, but he was always looking around. She idly considered if this came from having had Ginny kidnapped. A personal paranoia afterwards where threats came from nowhere? Then again, he gave no indication he was looking for anyone.

The touristy sorts were taking pictures of themselves, or their companions, in most of the halls. He did seem to change a bit in front of the tapestry. She almost could feel drawn into the woods with the mythic creatures, though she certainly could do without the hunting knights. Their discussion worked through the artwork, the origin of the structure as a fort to command the Hudson from the heights, the Society for Creative Anachronism people who practiced swordplay with padded wooden practice swords on the grounds.

In short, he proved to be somewhat of a regular visitor at the museum. This was something she didn’t anticipate about him.

“So, Ginny has something planned for me late this evening,” he told her.

“And you didn’t read her mind to see what it was?”

“Ha. Ha. Ha,” he deadpanned. “Honestly, I try to save the mind-reading for situations that merit the use of that ability.”

“That means though you have to get home.”

“Not until after Dinner.”

“Oh?”

“She knows I’m out with you. I left her a note. She wasn’t home when I dropped off the groceries.”

“Is that safe for her? People are still trying to get to you aren’t they?”

“They’re as likely to go after you as her, and she’s being watched by the police for a while anyway. They want to find the guy in charge of the ones that kidnapped her.”

“She really seems okay with you seeing me, isn’t she?”

“I know it doesn’t seem normal. You do realize if I was a real asshole I would already have a harem of dozens, don’t you?”

“I suppose. For you jealousy seems irrelevant when dealing with a,” she had problems explaining her understanding, “person able to actually be safely, I don’t know, experienced, er, knowledgeable, or, well, respectful as a dominant?”

“Do you?”

“I’ve talked a lot with Ginny without you around. I envy her in some ways and am very curious. I admit that. You do affect me even without that other thing.”

“I know. I’ve just kept out of anything she has to say to you, and not asked her to tell me anything. She likes you immensely though the fact that I liked you before has something to do with it.”

“Before? Before what?”

“Before I had telepathic ability.”

She was at a loss for words. Just then the tone sounded letting them know the museum would be closing soon.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’d have liked to have spent more time here today. Would you like to go for dinner?”

“Sure. What did you have in mind?”

“How’s Chinese sound? There’s a place in the Village I like. I would love to share it with you.”

“Hey Paully, how ya been.”

“We lives in exciting times Detective.”

“What am I doing on Roosevelt Island?”

“You didn’t come just for my handsome mug?”

“Yes you would look cute if compared to the back end of a mule.” Cain looked around. “What did you want to see me for.”

“If I get you something big, can you talk to that DA? I really need to get outa the businesses. I don’t want to play footsie with you or people who play with sharp toys anymore.”

“Have you found a full time job?”

“No. Look, I got somethin really interesting for you. It’s different. It’s gotta be really big.”

“You never come up with anything big Paully. You just don’t move in those circles.”

“Yeah, but look. I’ll explain.”

“Make it quick.”

“kay, okay. I was hanging out on thirty-fourth. And I saw Jack the Quick come outa a shop. The very same shop I was goin to.”

“Numbers again or more of the fillies?”

“uh. Nevermind about that. On a hunch, cause, like, this guy I know about but never seen outside his usual stomping grounds in Brooklyn is goin past me. I asked myself if there might be some paper in knowing what he was doin. So I stuck close as I could to him without bein seen.”

“Jack the Quick. I know something about him,” the detective prodded, the name coming up in his thoughts but not why.

“There’s a bunch of gangs that call him for services.”

“Cleaner, yeah. I bet they call on him,” yes, Cain remembered now.

“Well I stuck with him. Managed to get on the Tram with him. I figure, he didn’t have any crew with him, so it’s not for a job. Maybe, I was thinking, something he didn’t want his own crew to know about.”“Whatever. Get to the point.”

The CI pointed at the medical building across the street from them.

“He went in there. Not two minutes later, Jerry Tapshoe showed up and went in there.”

“Another cleaner. Maybe they’re merging businesses.”

“Then a captain I know from my hotel visits with your office.”

Hotel visits. More like being booked. Cain knew how many times Paul had been picked up. His gambling habit had him hauled in with bookies a few times.

“And a couple of them criminal lawyer looking dudes I’ve seen before went in. It’s like there’s a convention going on in there.” He pointed down the street at a black SUV. “I think the suits from that are feds and they went in too.”

Cain stroked his beard. His snitch had indeed come up with something big. Who could be in that building so many seemingly disconnected people would be visiting at the same time.“I’ll follow up Paul. Get your ass out of here. If it is important, you don’t want to be seen. Drop by my office tomorrow and I’ll have a voucher for you.”

“Ya gotta talk to the DA’s office for me. I think this is big enough I should be off the hook.”

“If it’s big enough, I will.”

Cain just stared as he recognized someone from the Mayor’s office walk up to the door, look around to see if anyone was watching, and slip in the door. What the hell was going on here?

The weather had turned and water fell from the sky. A warm front with more moisture than it wanted to hold onto as it wrestled with the chillier temperatures. People in wind breakers, light jackets and a few still in heavier coats all held up umbrellas. From above it looked like an odd dance as people passed by hidden under the domes of their portable shelter.

He’d left the coat with the hood back in his room. He’d noticed Mr Madison had discovered another telepath. More interesting, he’d discovered the people watching her. That might cause some fireworks.

None of this lead to Greenwich Village though.

The rain was just enough to make it uncomfortable to walk to the subway. Ben watched a number of cabs pass that were either occupied or off duty before he spotted one that was available. The hack made a beeline for him and Celia when he held up his hand.

He gave the driver their address. The driver threw the meter’s flag and they took off.

“Hey, I hope you don’t mind sharing a cab with me,” Ben said to Celia.

Dinner had proven to be relaxing. In some ways it gave her more comfort with Ben. She giggled her amusement.

“I don’t know. It seems like you’re following me home,” she teased.

“If anything since I have to go two floors higher in the building than you, you are following me.”

“Nuh uh!”

“We’re speaking in single syllable words now? Did someone have a little too much wine?”

“Nope. You’re the guy. You must be following me!”

“Is that how it works? I didn’t think it worked that way. Doesn’t the person who goes… oh hell. I give up, I must be following you. Does that mean we have to pay the driver twice?”

“I don’t think he’d object. Let’s not ask him though. He might be biased in the matter.”

A twenty minute ride and conversation the cab pulled up to the apartment building. He paid the driver along with a courteous tip. The two of them were standing closer together now as they waited once more by the elevator.

“Would you like to come up for a few minutes to say hey to Ginny?,” he asked her before pushing both floors’ buttons.

“Five minutes wouldn’t hurt. Sure, I’ll come along. Will it make it easier for you given whatever she’s planning to be a surprise?”

“Surprise, not surprise, I don’t know what she has in mind but I like to be supportive of her creative side.”

“Creative side?”

“She likes to cook for one thing. Maybe you can get her to show you some of her scrap booking projects.”

“Crafts and cooking?”

“She does other things too.”

The elevator opened. At the door he got his keys out and unlocked the door. Walking in, he paused in front of him causing Celia to come up short.

Before the chair he usually sat in was Ginny on her knees. Not a stitch of clothing on with her, hands resting at her knees, palm side up, and her head bowed. The only visible article of dress on her at all was a thin black ribbon tied in a bow at her throat. The back of the chair prevented a full view of her but it was apparent she’d ensured she was presenting her submission for him.

He turned to close the door as though he’d forgotten Celia was there. She motioned she could go if something special was going on but he shook his head no.

“I believe she would be honored to have you here as a witness,” he said.

“Is this going to involve sex, shouldn’t I go?”

“You have been here once before during her service to me. I think she trusts you as much as anyone other than me. You’ll see why she would be honored. Set your things down and take a seat on the couch.”

“um,” she hesitated. Then she responded, “Okay.”

His jacket was wet. Celia’s was too, so he rested them opened out on the chairs at his dinette table. Celia walked carefully past Ginny, trying not to disturb her where she knelt. When she settled onto the couch she saw a small cardboard box on the armchair before Ginny. She watched as Ben didn’t seem to be paying attention at the moment. He entered the bathroom, closing the door.

“Ginny, what is going on?,” Celia asked.

But Ginny was not moving, not answering. She was breathing though, Celia could see her lovely breasts rise and fall slightly from the movement of her lungs. Celia tucked her feet up under herself on the couch. She laid her hands together in her lap while looking at the smoothness of Ginny’s bottom and the old marks on her back.

The submissive was to her, remarkable. That she had taken such harm from someone and didn’t turn into a bitter woman incapable of trust was hard for her to grasp. The dedication involved seemed like a powerful statement of her will power. Though Celia did recall Ben’s account of what he did to bring her to him in the first place. Yet she had talked to Ginny many times now and she was decidedly a unique person unto herself.

The door to the bathroom opened. Ben came out and turned off the light behind him. Walking quietly around the room he lowered the lighting and made sure the curtains were drawn. Only then did he walk to the chair to pick up the box.

Ben turned the box in his hands.

“You could have gotten a wooden case for this, it would have been acceptable.” Ginny did not lift her head. Celia felt somehow that she had been drawn into a very personal ceremony.

The box proved to be not too difficult to open. It had been taped earlier but Ginny had sliced the tape open before putting it on the chair. Ben stood looking in the box for longer than the single witness could understand. Reaching in, he drew out a circlet that looked like embossed silver, the pattern obvious to him of a series of vines and leaves. On one end there was a clasp with a ring. At the other extreme was a translucent emerald colored stone of some kind, with an image of a phoenix embedded in it.

Celia watched the smile on his face.

“Are you certain you want this pet?”

“More than anything Master,” Ginny responded.

Ben worked the clasp open where the ring was. He stepped behind her, his fingers brushing her hair away from her neck. One hand moved to the bow of the ribbon she had on and tugged it undone. He let the ribbon fall to the floor. With both hands he wrapped the silver collar about her neck.

“Thank you Master.”

“I am pleased with your gift and accept it.”

Ginny seemed to shiver slightly, perhaps a touch of joy or thrill, goose bumps rising on her skin. If Celia could see her face there was a tint of pink, an excitement at the event.

Hands on her back Ben pushed her into the seat of the arm chair with her butt end up. Undoing his slacks he drew down his shorts. Celia closed her eyes for a moment. Her mouth opened slightly as her own breathing picked up on her. Her eyes opened again. She was too drawn to the two of them to avoid watching.

Ben drew Ginny’s behind up higher. Celia couldn’t see his manhood from the angle she was at. She watched as he knelt down behind Ginny and suddenly slammed himself forcefully into the submissive. His hands worked their way over Ginny’s scared back, as he caressed her.

“Mnnn.” The girl he was stroking in and out of was not merely breathing hard, she was letting out slowly escalating tones of her pleasure. When his hands reached her chest they moved forward and cupped her breasts. The nipples were already stiff and she was rocking roughly back at him.

The slapping sound of his body against hers was hard and seemed to be a furious abandon. The nude woman pinned in place by his presence above her had her face bouncing in against the chair’s cushions. Sounds akin to grunting was coming from Ben, but the noises the woman against the chair made were getting louder and louder. Her voice kept letting out cries of pleasure as she was split open by his thrusts.

“Oh god Master!”

Each breath sounded harder and more desperate as his own movements seemed to accelerate. She was wedged in tight with him filling her cunt.

“F-f-f-uc-fuck M-m-mas-ter!”

Celia’s legs parted as she heard Ginny’s exclamation. She could feel her own heat welling up listening. She found her fingers pressing against her own groin, seeking through the fabric to touch the parts that were tingling with her own excitement. Her other hand was not very surreptitiously kneading her left breast. Her own desire was starting to demand flesh to flesh contact but she restrained herself so far from opening her blouse or lifting her skirt. She could see the sweat on Ginny, as the woman being fucked so hard bucked violently back against the impaling tool.

Suddenly Ginny screamed out her release and Ben just wrapped her in his arms without withdrawing. Holding her steady, she had several aftershock spasms through her body. She kept shaking on and off for much more than Celia would have expected.

Ben slowly pulled loose and zipped his slacks. Celia could not tell if he had had his own orgasm. His hand gently stroked down over Ginny’s back. He bent forward again and kissed her back several places. Celia watched his tenderness as the woman slowly appeared to be recovering. As her breath appeared to be evening out, she seemed totally limp.

Ben stood up behind her. His hands wrapped around her upper arms. Drawing her up from where her face had been nearly embedded in the cushions, he helped her settle back on her knees. It took only a moment for him to see she could not hold herself up steady at the moment, so he lifted her in his arms and settled her into the chair.

“Good girl. I’m proud of you. I am pleased.” His hands stroked her hair and Celia could see Ginny’s eyes were not open yet. That had been intense for her to watch.

“What does it mean?,” Celia finally asked.

“The collar means several things. Mostly it means she has committed her submission to me. Which she’d already done but I hadn’t let her offer me the collar. Yet.”

“I am yours, Master,” whispered Ginny.

“Yes. Feeling more comfortable now, pet?”

“Sir, I have no words.” Her voice was still so soft Celia barely heard her.

Ginny turned her gaze finally from Ben to Celia. She forced her voice a little louder, “thank you.”

“I did nothing,” said Celia, though she was thinking if she stayed too long she’d want to plead for some release of her own. “I just sat here.”

“Intimate,” the word came from Ginny. “a precious moment for Sir.”

Ginny closed her eyes. She seemed limp in the chair.

“We’re not done pet.” Ginny’s eyes popped open quickly and she tried to struggle to get off the chair. Ben wasn’t having any. He pressed her down in the chair. “Not done for tonight but you need to recover some yet. Relax.”

“Yes Sir,” she smiled.

He walked to the dinette and picked up one of the chairs, placing it beside the armchair where he could stroke her arm, hair, her checks. She was totally exposed before Celia who could see the glistening result on Ginny’s legs and sex from the act. Every time Celia tried to look away she found her eyes back looking at the peaceful way Ginny’s body was settling down from the act and how Ben was settling her with tenderness comforting her. That could be me, she thought, why couldn’t it be? She tried to close her eyes again to focus and all she could think of was how intense the act had been, starting with him clasping Ginny’s collar closed.

Ginny slipped off the armchair, moving smoothly back to her knees before Ben.

“You need some to clean up and get some water for yourself, pet,” he told her. She raised her head to smile at him, then stood up. She took a quick look at Celia, smiling at her and winking before heading to the bathroom. She left the door open. Celia wondered idly if that was one of Ben’s rules for her.

“She has been petitioning for it recently,” he said. It took her a moment to realize it was the collar around Ginny’s throat he was talking about.

Celia bowed her own head, turning pink as he looked at her.

“So she needed your permission for her to ask you to put the collar on?”

“She already felt I owned her. This ownership she gifts to me. I had to learn a lot when I started to involve myself in Dominance and Submission. The collar was something I did not understand at first. I learned from her how important it is.”

“What makes it important?”

“There’s a number of things. It represents ownership. It provides a certain level of pride. It also is me telling her I will not leave her or make her leave me, intentionally anyway. The community of BDSM folk consider it to be equivalent of a wedding ring. There are posers though.”

“What made you so reluctant?”

“A few things. I wasn’t entirely sure of several implications. That last thing I said for instance. Was I just a poser, a wannabe. My ability is not the philosophy behind the lifestyle.”

“You seem to have adopted the lifestyle.”

Ginny walked back in, looking much refreshed.

“May I get you a drink, Sir? Celia?”

“Yes, I’d like a glass of water please,” Celia replied.

“I’m fine for now pet.”

Celia watched Ginny walk out to the kitchen with her head seeming to be higher and a bounce to her step.

“Well you made her very happy.”

“Yes. Indeed. She pleases me.”

Clearly Ginny heard this as she walked back in the room, her face pinking up a bit more and the smile on her lips seemed broader. Celia accepted the glass she brought, then Ginny glided to Ben’s side, smoothly moving back to her knees beside him.

Celia wondered how she did that so elegantly. She wondered if she’d be able to do that elegantly. Again she found herself thinking of herself being in Ginny’s place and being aroused from the thoughts.

They chatted a little more, but didn’t touch on the events of the evening again before she was preparing to leave for her own apartment. She stopped by Ginny on the way and admired the jewelry around her neck.

“It’s absolutely beautiful Ginny.” The girl looked up at her and beamed.

At the door, she paused beside Ben. She looked up at him.

“That was pretty revealing.”

“A neutral observation, I suppose. It means a lot in here, whether or not those outside this door know about it.”

She turned to go. Paused. Stepped back to Ben and leaned up towards him. He leaned down to touch her lips in a soft kiss. Celia for some reason threw caution to the wind, throwing her arms around his neck and giving him an intense kiss. For some reason this didn’t seem to surprise him. There was quite a bit of passion in the kiss.

Then she fled to the elevator. He saw her red face as she looked back. As soon as the doors closed, he shut and bolted the door.

Ginny deserved more of his attention, he felt. She looked at him, then lowered her eyes.

Detectives Cain and Shaw sat drinking coffee on a bench on Roosevelt Island. The building across from them kept having visitors. They’d counted almost a dozen police officials, more men who could have been described as feds, lawyers they’d seen in criminal court, several gang members and at least one judge Shaw knew personally.

“This is strange,” said Cain rubbing his beard.

“It could be the place Madison is looking for.”

“There’s no way for you or I to figure out if someone is a telepath in the group.”

“So we need to get him to come out here with us. I’ve recorded over a hundred different faces going in there who are clearly not here for medical reasons.”

“We could just ask one of the captains what’s going on.”

“Oh sure. ‘So captain, I saw you going into a building where a lot of known bad guys, are you one of them’?” He snorted. “That’ll go over well.”

“I was thinking more of, ‘I saw you and some of the other leadership on Roosevelt Island, is there some kind of conference going on?’”

“I see that attracting attention to us, and not in a good way.”

They both were silent for a while.

“What do you think,” Shaw spoke finally, “mindbender?”

“Yep. Mindbender. Let’s ask Madison to check this out with us.”