The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Veiled Threats

by J. Darksong

3.)

Ethan Clyde Barrow felt dazed and confused, and utterly utterly spent.

Things had been going really well for he and his girlfriend until just recently. They’d managed to bank a major score in the last several towns they’d hit on their little crime spree, netting more than two hundred and fifty thousand dollars total. With his superior planning and Bonnie’s ruthless abandon, they’d managed to stay one step ahead of Johnny Law the entire time. Indeed, they’d made such a name for themselves, using the fame of their ancestors’ deeds, that they’d become something akin to folk heroes among the criminal underworld—good enough to score a big haul and escape the cops but not big enough to attract the cape and cowl crowds. Or so they’d thought.

In the end, they’d started believing their own hype. Their heists were always successful because they did their homework beforehand, studying the layout of the bank, the neighborhood, the personnel, and the average response time from the boys in blue. Each robbery was fast, three minutes from the first shot, to the first step back out the door. Quick in and quick out. And, surprisingly enough, the thing that worked the most in their favor, the reason they had never been caught, was the anonymity of their everyday personas, the way they looked and acted when out of the antique clothing, and their ability to blend in. After all, during the actual robbery, the only thing anyone really saw was the pin-striped suit and the flapper dress; the only thing they noticed was the ancient Tommy guns and the over-exaggerated 30’s South Bronx accents.

And when he and Bonnie had run into a pair of stupid kids in Halloween costumes, they hadn’t taken them seriously. He hadn’t considered them a threat. At least not until he’d woken up on the ground, arms handcuffed behind his back, with several smug-looking police staring down at them.

It was inevitable, he supposed. Getting caught. From a psychological standpoint, it was a lot like gambling at a high stakes casino. You never stopped while you were winning, you kept going and going until you finally crapped out. Removed from the action, locked up in a tiny little jail cell, he had plenty of time to think about all the mistakes he’d made. Unlike most people in his position, though, he hadn’t feel resentment or anger at the pair that had taken him down. He’d gone to the pot one time too many and now he was paying the price, that’s all.

It was fun while it lasted, he’d thought simply, leaning back on his bunk.

Of course, that didn’t mean that he wanted to STAY locked up. When an unexpected and unsolicited summons brought him into a meeting with a young and attractive redhead in a navy blue power suit, offering to have him released from jail with all charges dropped in exchange for agreeing to take part in a little experiment, he’d jumped at the chance. He wasn’t a fool. He knew there would be a catch involved, that whatever they intended to do with him had to be extremely risky, very dangerous, and most likely lethal if they were willing to do break him out of prison, but if those were the stakes he had to pay in order to re-enter the game, so be it. Above all else, he was a gambler at heart, and if what the woman was offering him wasn’t complete bullshit, then it was more than worth the risk.

“I’ll agree on one condition,” he’d told the lovely lawyer as he took the contract from her. “I want you to offer the same deal to my partner, Bonnie Parker.”

The woman had merely smiled, reaching into the folder she was carrying. “The people I represent thought that might be a condition, so I took the liberty of making a similar offer to Ms. Parker first.” She pushed another copy of the contract, already signed and dated, across the table to Clyde. “You’ll note her signature and handwriting. Now... do we have an agreement, Mr. Barrow?”

He’d signed then and there. Three days later, the woman had had them transferred to out to a medical research facility somewhere in Northern Oregon. He noticed idly that he and Bonnie weren’t the only ones to make the deal; besides them, there were eight other men and women dressed in prison orange. A lot of them seemed less than happy to be there, but Clyde took an optimistic view. If nothing else, I’m out of jail and reunited with Bonnie. Soon enough they were all separated, taken to a private area where they were all stripped naked, cleaned and sterilized. He was then poked and prodded, pricked and pierced, and run through the usual gamut of medical examinations until he was deemed fit and healthy.

Then the real tests began.

Clyde opened his eyes some time later, groaning weakly. He was lying on a bunk very much like the one he’d had back in jail, only he recognized the white gleaming walls at the walls of the facility. His head felt fuzzy, and his mouth was dry. He didn’t remember a lot of what had happened after they’d strapped him down to administer the first injection, but he got the distinct impression that that had been several days, if not weeks, ago. He tried to get to his feet, but stumbled, feeling completely devoid of strength. He fell back to the bunk, gasping for breath, completely winded.

“Interesting,” a nasally voice said, coming from the wall above him. Clyde managed to tilt his head to the side, spying the speaker jutting from underneath a small wall-mounted camera. “Good morning, Mr. Barrow. I’m very glad to see that you’re awake. To tell the truth, we were beginning to get a little bit concerned... some of us were beginning to wonder if you’d EVER wake up. Glad to see I was proven wrong.”

Clyde groaned again, trying in vain to push himself up. His arms felt like limp noodles, and the effort of trying again left him winded. “No, no, don’t try and get up just yet,” the voice replied with a chuckle. “You’ve been through a lot these last few days. Just lie still and rest. An attendant will be in momentarily with something for you to drink and a little something for you to eat. But I advise you not to overdo it. You’re still a bit fragile right now, and trust me, you don’t want to throw up the first bit of nourishment your body’s had in a week.”

A week? Clyde thought blearily. Had it really been that long?

As promised, an attendant dressed all in white entered moments later, carrying a small covered tray. Setting the tray aside for the moment, she walked over to a bank of monitors on the wall, glancing at the readings and writing down the results. Walking over to him, she lifted him gently, moving him into a sitting up position, propping him up with pillows. Sitting next to him on the bunk, she proceeded to feed him, giving him small spoonfuls of a very bland beef broth. Indignation momentarily reared its head at being treated like an invalid, but he soon realized that that was exactly what he was. He could barely sit up let alone feed himself. The girl finished feeding him long before he thought he was full, but the most he could do in protest was groan weakly.

Just as well, he thought to himself. It wasn’t that good anyway. If I wasn’t half-starved, I certainly wouldn’t be wanting seconds!

“Now that you’ve been fed, Mr. Barrows,” the voice continued, “I imagine there are a number of things you’d like to know. First of all, the infusion seems to have been a success. I know it probably doesn’t seem that way right now, in your current condition, but it takes a while before your body fully adapts to the genetic changes. Once you’ve fully rested and regained your strength, I believe you’ll be most satisfied with the changes.”

“Secondly, you’re probably concerned about your companion. Ms. Parker is recovering quite nicely as well. She woke three days earlier, and is back on her feet again. And no, I’m afraid I can’t allow her to visit you just yet, not until you’ve fully recovered. She has asked about you quite regularly, and I will certainly let her know you have finally woken up. In another day or two, you should be able to leave the room under your own power.”

“Lastly, I think it would interest you to know that you, Ms. Parker, and six other... ahem, volunteers, came through the treatment successfully. Two of them were, alas, not so lucky. You and your group represent the second phase of our work, of implementing successful genetic alteration and reconstruction to normal average people without the specific genetic markers that note compatibility with altered DNA. With the data we’ve collected, it may very soon be possible to grant superhuman powers and abilities to anyone with the desire and the finances to bankroll it. For that, we are all very grateful.”

Clyde nodded slightly. He’d figured the plan was something along those lines when the redhead had first made the offer. So, he and the others had gotten to play guinea pig so they could perfect the process basically meant that he got for free what the next bunch of yahoos would have to pay up the yin-yang for. Not that he really cared at the moment. He was too wiped out to care about much of anything. Still, they’d beaten the odds. They had both survived, and he and Bonnie were free.

Ah, freedom, he sighed to himself as his eyes fluttered closed. That was all that mattered...

* * *

“You feel like Chinese tonight?”

Lacie glanced over at her husband. “Sorry. What did you ask me?”

“I asked if you felt like Chinese food tonight. For dinner.” He glanced sidelong at her. “Are you feeling alright, Lacie love? Ye’ve been acting a bit distracted lately.”

Lacie sighed. “Sorry. Yes, Chinese sounds good.”

They sat in silence for a while as they drove along. Then: “Lacie, I know you’re a bit concerned about your pregnancy. I understand that. But... you cannae let your worry and concern overwhelm and concern you. You do what you can and just trust that it will all work out in the end.” He placed a hand gently on her shoulder. “For what it’s worth, I know you’ll be a wonderful mother.”

Lacie shook her head. “I wish I were as confident as you. There’s so much about this that scares me. And if something were to happen to the baby before she’s born...” She sighed again. “I don’t... I don’t think I could handle it if something went wrong... again.”

Gene said nothing. He remembered all too well the hell they’d endured following her miscarriage—the anger, the guilt, the depression. Things had only gotten worse during the time he was away, and eventually Lacie had succumbed to an emotional collapse. He wanted to encourage her, to tell her that this time would be different, but as much faith as they both had in Silver Girl’s newfound skills, the simple truth was that no one knew for sure how the pregnancy would go. He sighed inwardly. Maybe it was still too soon to leave Midas City. Maybe he should have insisted they stay until after the birthing. He had every confidence in their family doctor, but Dr. Raine had made an impression, and Sarah swore by her. Perhaps they should head back—

“Whoa!” Gene exclaimed, swerving, then slamming on brakes. Seconds later, an armored car roared by, narrowly missing them, side-swiping two parked cars as it went. A few seconds later, two police cars streamed by in hot pursuit, sirens blaring. “Huh. That can’t be good. Maybe we should suit up and help them out?”

Lacie shrugged. “I’m sure they can handle it. It’s just an armored car. It’s not as if the driver’s blowing up random buildings or—” A loud explosion sounded several yards away, near where the chase had continued on. Lacie groaned. “I can see this is going to be one of those times when circumstances keep proving me wrong. Fine. Let’s go.”

Gene chuckled softly, pulling out after the cars. A button on the steering wheel darkened the windshield as he drove, another set the onboard computer’s auto-drive mode as he began to undress. He turned to Lacie. “Are ye going to get ready, love?”

Lacie closed her eyes briefly, as a bright glow enveloped her body. Her dark hair lightened, turning bright gold. Her skin darkened to a soft buttery tan, and when her eyes opened, they were a clear sapphire blue. She smirked, crossing her arms. “It doesn’t take me nearly as long to get dressed as you, honey.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Gene muttered, sliding the gauntlets over his hands, letting them bond completely with the other components covering his chest and arms. “It’s too bad you can’t do a quick change like that when we’re going out to dinner, or to the theater, or the opera. On THOSE occasions it takes you closer to two hours to get dressed.”

“What did you say, sweetheart?” Lacie said idly twirling a lock of blonde hair between her fingertips, one eyebrow raised sardonically. “Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.”

Muttering under his breath, Gene slipped his helmet over his head, the last piece of his armor. The edges sealed seamlessly, bonding to his chest plate on the molecular level just as the other pieces had, creating an impenetrable airtight seam. Powering on, he ran a quick systems diagnostics check, and finally, satisfied that everything was working perfectly, opened the car’s sunroof. “Here we go!” he warned Lacie as he activated the ejection system. Seconds later, the two heroes were sent skyward, rocketed from the car as it continued on its way. Hovering several hundred feet over the city, he glanced at his wife.

“Well, that went a lot better than expected. How are you feeling, Omega Girl? Not too shook up, I trust?’

“I’m fine. You seem surprised. Why?” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Don’t tell me this is the first time you ever used the ejector seats.”

“No, just the first success. The computer guidance system has been a little quirky, and the last couple of trials ejected the test robot into the side of a building.” He chuckled, seeing the look on her face. “Oh, come now. I was sure I fixed it this time. Besides, yer a tough girl. I knew ye could handle it if anything happened to go wrong. C’mon... let’s get going.”

Omega Girl rolled her eyes as she flew after him. Ech. I missed a lot of things about you while you were gone... but yer sense of humor wasn’t one of them.

They caught up to the armored car moments later. “Hmm. Interesting,” Armor Man said aloud. “I patched into the police band, and seems like we’re dealing with a trio of would-be robbers. Get this... they hijacked that armored car at a fuel stop, forced the driver and other guards out of the vehicle with tear gas, and took off. Heh. What they hadn’t planned on was the fact that they’d already made their drop off and delivered their payload to the bank before stopping to get gas. When the police showed up, they apparently just panicked and drove off.” He shook his head. “Just bad luck on their part.”

“And for us too!” Omega Girl shouted. “Look out!”

The warning came just in time as a missile streaked by. Armor Man immediately locked on, blasting the errant projectile before it could hit any nearby buildings, then growled softly as his tracking system targeted the source. “Dammit. Looks like one of them brought along some heavy artillery. Now we know what happened to the two police cruisers that were chasing them. We’d better nip this one in the bud, and fast, before someone gets hurt!”

“I’m on it!” Omega Girl replied, streaking down. She landed in front of the armored car, holding a single hand outward. “Stop the car! Now!” she shouted.

The three criminals, however, weren’t quite ready to throw in the towel. The one in the back, carrying the rocket launcher, turned, sliding the barrel of the gun through a small slat on the side. She fired, sending out a missile, not towards the two heroes, instead aiming for the strut of the nearby bridge they were passing. Caught off guard by the tactic, Armor Man wasn’t able to react fast enough to block it, and the explosion took out a large section of the middle support column.

“Shit!” he growled, turning back, rocketing to the bridge as the structure began to buckle, the vehicles going across starting to skid and roll wildly. Grabbing a section of the bridge from underneath, he pushed, rocket boots at full power, acting as a temporary brace. The bridge’s shuddering stopped, it’s weight evenly supported and secured, for the moment. Armor Man’s scanners fed him telemetry, however, showing that several vehicles had crashed during the upheaval, and were stuck in the middle of the bridge. Worse, if he abandoned his hold on the trellis, the whole thing would collapse, killing all those still trapped on the bridge. They were all stuck between a rock and a hard place. They were going nowhere, and for the moment, neither was he.

“Nice diversion,” Omega Girl said grimly, as the armored vehicle continued to roar down on her. “Normally, I would take off and help my... fellow hero, keep the bridge from collapsing, letting you three escape. But you miscalculated. Armor Man is a pretty resourceful guy. And he’s no lightweight, either.” She slammed a hand down on the front of the armored car as it reached her, stopping it in place. The back tire continued to turn, and the smell of burning rubber became thick, yet the car was unable to budge, held in her grip. “Which gives me more than enough time to deal with you and STILL help out my partner.”

“What the hell?!?” the masked driver yelped, her voice feminine. “She’s holding us in place... with one hand!”

Omega Girl sighed, rolling her eyes. “You must be from out of town. You obviously have no idea who I am, so I’ll cut you a break. Turn off the engine, come out with your hands up, and surrender peacefully, and I’ll go easy on you.”

“Go easy on this!” a second masked woman yelled, pointing the barrel of the rocket launcher at her through the slat. She fired, sending the missile at Lacie from nearly point blank range, which hit it square in abdomen before exploding, knocking her off her feet. The armored car shuddered, suddenly freed from the force holding it in place, and thrust sideways from the force of the explosion. The vehicle slammed into the reinforced concrete embankment, and skidded to a stop, the driver and passengers momentarily stunned.

Meanwhile, back at the bridge, Gene was improvising a solution. Planting his boots firmly against the closet support, and bracing the weakened section of the bridge with his back, he fired magnetic pulses from his now freed hands, attracting bit of metallic debris and wreckage from the armored car’s rampage. Directing the pieces to the destroyed strut, he activated his shoulder mounted pulse cannon, and melted the metal into slag, using it to fill in all the gaps. It was slow going, and taking a lot of energy; his reserves were already down to sixty-two percent and falling, but the bridge was holding together, and the people on board would be soon be safe.

Uggghhh... this is... not what I had in mind... when I suggested... we go after... that stupid armored car... He sighed deeply, lifting the last bit of metal debris into place above the cracked section of the strut. I haven’t seen or heard from Lacie in a while now. It shouldn’t take too long to stop one simple little armored vehicle. I hope she’s alright.

Omega Girl, for her part, was just shaking off the cobwebs, getting back to her feet. The attack had taken her completely by surprise, and she’d had no chance to defend herself. She wasn’t hurt—she’d taken bigger hits from tank artillery shells without a scratch—but the suddenness of it had scared her. Which pissed her off. Eyes flashing with fury, she charged, streaking across the ground to the crashed armored car. She hit it full force, and the reinforced steel plating buckled, then bent inward, causing the women inside to scream in panic. Heedless, Lacie dug her fingers in, lifting the entire car over her head before slamming it down hard to the asphalt.

“This the way you want to play it?” she yelled, raising the truck again, only to slam it back down once more. Tires popped, and metal crumpled, bowing inwards from the impact, and she raised the truck up once more. “I give you a chance, and you turn around and shoot at me? IN THE STOMACH?!?” With a roar, she ripped the armored car apart, peeling it like an orange. The occupants, barely conscious from the repeated sharp and jarring impacts, lay in a sprawl on the floor. Reaching in, Omega Girl grabbed the one who’d fired the rocket launcher, and shook her lightly. “Fucking bitch,” she snarled, “if I were still the woman I was a few months ago, I’d crush you like a bug!” Her eyes narrowed as she raised a glowing fingertip in front of the frightened woman’s face.

“Lucky for you, I’m not. I’ve tried being judge, jury, and executioner once, and it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. I’ll let the police take care of you and your friends.” Ripping away the woman’s mask. she smirked, placing her finger on the bridge of the girl’s nose, right between her eyes. “Still, I don’t intend to let you go without giving you a little something to think about.” The fingertip glowed momentarily brighter as a pulse of energy burned it way through the woman’s skull.

The girl stiffened, her eyes widening, and jaw dropping, as if preparing to scream, but it never made it that far. Energy poured through her, flowing through the cells of her body, into her skin, into her skull, into her brain. Into her mind. All movement ceased immediately as certain of the girl’s synaptic discharges were suppressed, while others began firing at an accelerated rate. Thinking slowed down as well, as the part of her brain capable of cognizant thought was, literally, turned off. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and she shuddered lightly, the limit of movement Lacie allowed her.

Lacie gasped slightly, resisting the urge to moan, feeling powerfully flushed from the sensation. She was still linked with her power, guiding it inside the girl’s mind, and she could actually feel the girl’s mind going quiet. Not only was the girl effectively disabled, she was completely helpless to resist any thought Lacie might decide to put in her head. Her lips creased into a wicked smirk as the possibilities ran through her briefly, but she forced them away with an effort. Damn. Every time I go to Midas City, I come back with bad habits. No... I need to keep things simple. Professional. And as much fun as it would be to turn her and her two companions into my own obedient little sex toys, I have more important concerns right now.

“Now then... You stay there and be a good little girl until the police come to pick you up,” Omega Girl admonished, pulling away from the semi-conscious criminal, before turning to face the others. Still unconscious from the crash, they would most likely give the police no problems, but just to be sure, she gave them both a short blast from her Omega Beams to keep them quiet. Satisfied, she took to the air once more, heading back to check up on her husband.

“Well... I was beginning to wonder if you were coming back or not!” Armor Man said, panting heavily, as he pushed himself free from the newly repaired support column. “Not that I was overly concerned about you...” he shrugged. “Okay... with the way you’ve been really distracted lately, I was a LITTLE bit concerned.”

“Sorry,” Omega Girl replied, idly rubbing her tummy. “One of them got the drop on me with that damned rocket launcher. I wasn’t hurt, but it kind of caught me off guard.” And pissed me off to the point where I nearly tossed them all into the river, she thought but didn’t say. Aloud, she said, “How about you? Are you okay? When you didn’t come along with me, I thought you might be back checking on the officers from the two police cruisers. I didn’t think the bridge was damaged bad enough to keep you THIS busy... but from the looks of it, you had your hands full.”

“Figuratively and literally, I’m afraid,” he replied, gesturing to his patchwork welding. “My little patch job will keep it together for a while, long enough certainly to get everyone trapped up there off safely. Still, they’ll most likely have to close off the bridge entirely until the support column can be replaced. The city contractors will be happy for the work, even though the Mayor’s going to likely have a fit.” He sighed. “As for the officers in the squad cars... I’ve been monitoring the police and emergency bands, and aside from a lot of cuts and bruising and one broken arm, the people pulled from the wreckage should all pull through.”

Lacie nodded. “What drives people to do things like this, Gene?” she asked. “I just don’t get it. I mean... I can understand the robbery part. I can understand desperation. I understand that feeling only too well. What I don’t get is how can you take it out on the innocent people around you. Look at this mess. All for a sack of money they didn’t even get.”

“Aye, well, there’s no fathoming another person’s heart,” he replied. “A tragedy that might shatter one man might only strengthen another...” He sighed, his thoughts turning inward. “Call me a wide-eyed optimist, but I like to think that the majority of people in the world are good, decent, hard-working folk. Aye, there are a few exceptions to every rule,” he said, frowning again, “but I’d like to think that not everyone we help capture and bring to justice is an evil-minded criminal mastermind.” He shrugged. “At least that thought helps me sleep at night. Now, come on. Let’s see if we can help the people trapped up on the bridge before I need to head back home and recharge.”

* * *

Interesting. So... that was Omega Girl.

James Phelps sat atop the crushed remains of a red Buick Skylark in contemplation. His trench coat and hat fluttered lightly in the breeze, and he pulled then tighter around himself. A wave of pure fury swept over him for an instant before vanishing back beneath his veneer of calm detachment. He sighed inwardly. A side-effect of the process that had made him the powerhouse he now was, his physically body had become twisted, transformed into a monstrous frankensteinish version of its former self. Worse, his psyche was as scarred as his body, and he was plagued by completely random episodes of bottomless, mindless rage. Not that they weren’t enjoyable, in a way, or even beneficial, as both his strength and durability increased exponentially during such periods—still, it was sometimes problematic, trying to remain incognito when hit with the sudden, uncontrollable urge to bash, smash, and crush everything and everyone around him.

On a good note, he was getting better at suppressing his rages. When the two heroes had flown by on their way to stop the driver of that armored car, he’d managed to completely repress the urge to rush in and attack them both. He smirked. Time enough to test my power against that of the original copy. I have a few others on my list to take care of before I face her. Still... even though she crumpled that armored car like tin foil at the end, she was pretty sloppy getting blasted by that RPG the way she did. Frankly, I’m not that impressed.

He supposed there had to be more to her than she had shown. He’d only been watching her for a few days, anyway, and this was the first chance he’d had to see her in action. All in all, he felt let down. The people behind his transformation had been particularly anal about Omega Girl’s DNA, going on and on about how creating a working serum based on HER genetic structure was key to their plans. When they’d begun testing possible candidates, he hadn’t even waited to picked—he’d volunteered. As it stood, he was, thus far, the only one of the hundred test subjects to survive, and even then, the genetic bonding had left him hideously grotesque and deformed. Another surge of rage swept over him, and for an instant he saw nothing but red. When his vision cleared, he looked down at his hands, and saw that the bumper he’d been resting against had been completely shredded like tissue paper.

Heh. At least THIS time I know what caused that flash of anger. Stupid fucking bastards cost me my looks! I was certainly never the kind of guy that spent hours staring at himself in the mirror or anything, but I have to admit I looked pretty damn good. Now... now I’m a freak. A grey-skinned, huge limbed monster, something more at home in a children’s cartoon or a Van Gough painting. DAMN THEM! I knew all this experimentation would hurt, that there was a pretty high chance it would kill me. I wasn’t afraid to die... hell I was barely LIVING as it was... but they NEVER said anything about it making me look like a fucking gargoyle!

He slammed a fist down hard on the hood of the car. The impact send the engine block through the bottom of the car, and embedded it three-fourths of the way into the tarmac. Forcing back the anger again, he took a few deep cleansing breaths, then sighed as calmness returned.

All things considered, things could have been worse. He’d always been an outsider anyway... it was just more obvious now. Anyway, he was still alive, after all. More importantly, he had the one thing he’d been missing all his life: power. Ever since he was a child, he’d been forced to kowtow and kiss ass in order to survive, from the father that loved nothing more than beating him for the slightest indiscretion, to the bullies at school, who saw the scrawny, skinny boy as an easy target, to his instructors and teachers, all the way up through college. Life was simple. The strong preyed on the weak, and the only way to survive was to use those weaker than yourself, and to ingratiate yourself with those stronger than you.

But now, all that has changed. Now, I have the power. I’m the strongest guy around, and soon enough, I’ll be the one calling the shots. And ugly or not, everyone will be standing in line to kiss MY ass. He closed his eyes, sighing in contentment. Ah. But... first things first. I still have a bit more planning to do before I make my move... and a few dear old ‘friends’ I need to visit. Pulling the lapels of his coat closed in front of his face, he turned and stepped back into the shadows.