The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Synapse

Kori had gone better than I had hoped. Or rather, she had been easier than I had expected. She was mine in body and mind, which was exactly what I had hoped for. But I expected her to put up some resistance, to see through cheap illusions and projections, to question the strange phantom touches as though she was in a fevered dream. Instead, it was as though I was answering her prayers in taking away her freedom, in creating a dependency on me, in feeding all of her insecurities, and in making her feel small and pathetic.

Soma was right about humans.

Though I was exhausted from fucking Kori, I didn’t have time to rest. I had been working on my stamina since the twins, but I would need everything for Bastille and Surya. Especially for what waited for me after I had the two powerhouses of Aurora Flight under my control. For now, Kori was softly dozing and resting up. I envied her, but I had to prepare for —

A slight ping in my mind alerted me to something going wrong. I wasn’t dumb enough to have electronics on me with Io in the building, but Soma was watching the cameras from a secure bunker, and she could alert me with little pings about the team’s location. Someone was approaching. Someone alone.

I crouched low and pressed myself against one of the darker corners. I sensed for the minds in the warehouse we had turned into a fortress and found the presence of my three remaining rescuers — my future victims. I homed in on the nearest one and was struck first by the overwhelming numbness of her body.

Bastille.

My poor French teammate had been going numb as a side-effect of her impenetrable skin. But impenetrability didn’t mean she couldn’t feel pain, and over time her body had simply switched off the nerve endings to protect her. Who would want to feel bullets slam against your chest even if they couldn’t penetrate your skin? Everyone was impressed with her power, but she had silently paid the price for it.

Though not willingly.

Mingled in with that numbness was a loneliness and a kind of desperation. Bastille couldn’t feel the sensation of holding a friend’s hand, the soft breeze on her cheek, or the comforting warmth of her being wrapped in a favorite blanket. So when Soma turned her senses back on — specifically her senses of pain and heat — Bastille felt alive for the first time in years. She fucked Surya when Soma was fucking Kori, or rather, she let Surya fuck her. I never really knew Bastille’s orientation, but I never saw her date or get physical with anyone. She was a gentle and lonely giant, so I assumed she was asexual or had impossibly high French standards for lovers. But when Soma cranked up her lust and tied it to the burning pain of Surya’s power, Bastille became an eager masochist. The one thing she hadn’t been able to feel much of her whole life — pain — became the most riveting and transformative feeling in the universe to her.

I let her move towards me. There was a room designed for Bastille and Surya — I knew they would go together — but it was on the other side of the warehouse. I doubt I could get her to go there. Maybe with a few phantom sounds or sights I could make her think Io or Surya were in distress. But I wanted to conserve my power, and I suspected I wouldn’t need much to get her on my side if she was alone. I was more worried about the sun goddess than the numb giant.

Her loneliness rippled through the halls like waves, and I followed their wake. I could take her in the hallway, in the dark. It didn’t matter. As she approached, I slowly restricted her sense of vision. Slowly enough and gradual enough that she’d never notice it so much as think the hallway was incredibly dark.

“Hello?” I whispered, trying to sound scared. “Is anyone there?”

“Synapse?” Bastille said in her adorable French accent. Despite her size, she always sounded like she was whispering.

“Bastille?” I said back. “Is that you?” I gradually turned on her senses, waking up her dead nerve endings. I didn’t want the shock of the final reveal to hurt or kill her. I wanted her purring and melting into a puddle, not freaking out or shutting down.

I ran towards her and jumped into her arms, wrapping my arms around her like she was my mother, and I was her scared lost child. She would recognize the sensation of pressure on her body. She would — thanks to Soma — know the feel of my body heat even if it was faint. But she wouldn’t quite notice the feel of my hands wrapped around the back of her neck. It would be just a faint tingling. Maybe nerves. Maybe relief to see me safe. Maybe a sense of alert that this might be a trap.

But no — I smoothed away all suspicion and fear. I stoked the flame of her happiness that I was safe, that she had found me, that she was no longer alone in the dark. I slipped my hand into hers and squeezed. It was a strange gesture from me, for sure, but she would credit it to the trauma of my past few weeks.

“You’re safe?” she asked me. “Where is Eidolon?”

I shook my head. “We’re not safe. I put my hand on her chest and pressed her backwards — which took considerable effort because of her size. I looked backwards as though I was being followed, and Bastille looked in that direction, though her vision at this point was too useless to see anything beyond me. I slid my hand down her chest as though moving it away, but I made sure my fingertips went over the tight latex of her suit. Over her breasts. Over her nipples. I cranked up the sensation from awake to well beyond the normal human range of pleasure or pain.

And watched with delight as Bastille melted in front of me.

Her knees bent, and she shrieked, but I was quick, quickly covering her mouth with a free hand and pressing my body against hers. I was in my stupid original Aurora Flight uniform that looked similar to hers — and I was never the most well-endowed human in the breast department — but I pressed her, letting her feel the pressure and heat of me. But beyond that, there was something stirring between her legs.

“Shhh,” I said as her shriek turned into a moan against my hand. I let the sensation of my breath on her neck delight and subdue her. She was melting as fast as I had expected. I was giving vision to a blind woman in a sense. I was a miracle worker. Of course she would end up serving me in the end.

“Uuuhn,” she moaned softly as I moved my hand away. Her whole body was trying to pull away from me, to collapse. I felt her impulse to run her hand between her legs, and I did it for her. I wondered if it was the first time her pussy had felt much of anything in years.

By the way she responded, I could say it probably was.

Her eyes shot wide, and her body tightened. Instead of pulling away from me, she pulled me tight and pressed against me. She grabbed my hand and held it against her pussy, keeping me there while she grinded against my fingers.

“Bastille,” I chided, “we’re on a mission.”

“Uuuuhn,” was all she replied. I felt her brain practically shutting down. There was barely any cognitive work going on between neurons or dendrites. She was all animal, all body, all flesh, and now all pleasure.

It didn’t take her long to cum. She had been pent up for so long. Even whatever she got with Surya was never quite an orgasm. You can’t very well ask a sun goddess to burn the fuck out of your clit. I worked my magic, making the intensity build quickly. She was grinding against my hand, but her body felt as though she was being triple penetrated while two eager sluts were sucking on her tits. Her body was having the best orgy of its life after decades of numbness. She came, collapsed to her knees, and shivered with delight.

She was mine.

“How?” she whispered as she tried to catch her breath.

I clicked my tongue and shook my head. “That’s not the right question. You know how.”

She wrapped her arms around my thighs and pressed her head against my stomach. “Why?” she asked.

“Do you think Soma and I are so different?”

She shook her head against my stomach. I felt the wet warmth of her tears, but I knew she wasn’t scared. There was tremendous peace and joy rippling out of her. Gratitude. That’s what she felt. Supremely grateful for my gift.

“She started your healing, but I’m going to finish it,” I said. I ran my hand through her hair, calming her, soothing her. My touch sent ripples of relaxation down her spine and over her skin. She was safer than a babe with her mother.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Shhh. It’s okay,” I said. “There will be plenty of time to thank me.”

She nodded again, and I built on her peace and her gratitude. She would worship me, but she was an easy one to convince. I always knew she would be. But the most difficult two remained, and I needed powerful puppets to help me.

“Now,” I said as I stepped away and sank down to my knees. Her face was streaked with tears, but she was smiling. I had never seen so much joy on a person’s face before. Why hadn’t I ever considered using my powers to make people feel joy? I could have been a drug dealer or at the very least a comfort to those in mourning or pain. But the thought had never occurred to me. Maybe that was the way with my people — those from Neoros. We weren’t healers; we were conquerors. Our subjects didn’t need joy. Pleasure, maybe. But not joy unless it was the joy they found in us.

“I have an important question,” I said.

Bastille nodded eagerly. She would give me the world if I asked, and tomorrow I planned to ask for exactly that.

“Do you want it to hurt?” I asked.

Bastille’s eyes filled with tears again. She bit her lip and nodded nervously, but I pushed that away and inflamed her lust.

I reached out and grabbed the zipper at the top of her suit and pulled it down slowly. I let the moment linger, let her feel the cool air over her skin for the first time in years. She sighed with relief as I zipped it all the way down, exposing her tight stomach and breasts. I smiled at the thought that from now on, everything I did with her would come across as a relief. She would even find the pain I caused her a relief.

I looked at her pale pink nipples on her exposed tits and squeezed them. She moaned again, and I flicked a finger over her nipple, making her body tighten as the pleasure rode her. I stared at the stiff nipple for a long time, something bothered me about it.

“Of course,” I whispered to myself. I pinched the nipple, and Bastille moaned again. “Bastille, love,” I said. “Are you sure you are completely impenetrable? No weaknesses at all?”

“There is … uuuuhn … maybe …” She pressed against me, and I could tell she wanted to start all over again, to cum once more.

“Not yet,” I said. “But first let’s talk about some piercings for these lovely nipples.”

Surya

“Bastille?” I hissed out into the darkness for the hundredth time. Nothing. I don’t know why she wanted to double back and search for Kori after her insistence that she go with me. I didn’t understand her mind at all these days. Not when we made love — though she hated when I called it that. Not when she begged me to hurt her — which I hated to do unless she had me boozy or horny.

I have no idea how that started. Well, that wasn’t true. I knew where it started. It started on a mission like this, in a dark hallway like this. It started with something raging in me, something out of my control, something I couldn’t quite put back in a box. Not darkness exactly. Something different, something sinister.

People often said I used fire. I don’t. I understand the sun is a big ball of fire, and there’s a lot of overlap between it and my powers, but I don’t do fire. I do light. And sure, light can burn. But I don’t do fire.

Whatever that blue-haired woman released — what Bastille was craving from me — was fire. Hot. Dangerous. Hungry. And unlike Bastille, I didn’t like it.

Though I’ll admit, it was nice to finally have someone to connect with (not make love, Bastille made it very clear we weren’t making love). People used to joke that as the only gay member of Aurora Flight (though Kori was pansexual, but no one knew), that I should be going on lots of dates since I was on an all-girl team. The fact was that between saving the world, there wasn’t time for dating. Definitely not romance. I mean, sure, there could be sex. You could find a night to get sweaty in a dark room like Kori did. But I never really had that in me. And while at first I was hopeful, I knew Bastille didn’t want that with me either.

Strange thing about being nicknamed “The Sun Goddess:” girls want to worship you, but they don’t want to love you.

“Focus,” I whispered to myself. I activated the comm attached to my ear. “Anyone see anything?” I moved around the corner, focusing my energies on stealth and keeping my ambient light dim. I can’t help that I glow. Even in my sleep, my sisters used to say I was like a night light for them. Which is cute, but when your first girlfriend says one of the reasons she’s breaking up with you is because she can’t sleep at night with all your —

I froze. “Anyone hear me?” I said into the comm again, waiting to hear from any team member before moving forward.

Nothing came.

I took the comm out and looked at it with the faint glowing red light. It was on. It had power. But I was getting no signal. Or no one was on the other end.

“Not good,” I said to myself. I put the comm back into my ear and prayed that it was nothing but a dead spot. After all, I was in a crazy villain maze. If it isn’t a dead spot, Soma could have figured out a way to negate comms. That was a risk we took when we came in and when we split up.

I inhaled deeply, and my skin turned from its soft brown to a rich amber. I exhaled, and the light went out with my breath and floated down the hallway. The light bounced against a steel door I hadn’t seen before. I was at the end of the hallway and the maze. There, finally, was what was almost certainly the first of many traps.

“You got this,” I said to myself as I approached the door. I gripped the handle tight and worked to suppress my light. As softly as I could, I pulled on the handle and opened the door delicately and —

A horrendous screeching filled the hallway and dark room ahead of me: an alarm.

“Shoot,” I said and hung my head with embarrassment. There was a reason Kori and ’Lon handled the stealth part of any mission.

“Surya?” a voice shouted from the darkness. “Is that you?”

“Kori?” It wasn’t a voice I recognized, but that could still mean Kori. Honestly, she should be forced to keep her voice the same for communication and teamwork’s sake. I’ll have to bring that up at our next —

“Surya, it’s me. Hurry. She’s gone, and I need your help.”

It wasn’t just the words she was saying that made me light up and spring into the room. It was her tone. Kori was sassy. She was sultry. She was sometimes even ditzy and spacy. But she was never scared. As soon as I heard her say she needed help, my body responded before my brain could. I sprang into action, rushing into the room with my light turned up enough for her to see me, for her to know that help was on its way.

The room wasn’t at all what I would have expected in a villain’s lair. Despite the thick steel door and dark industrial hallway, this looked like a spacious studio apartment downtown. White walls, a couch and coffee table, a bed, a rug, etc. The only thing making it feel ominous was the lack of windows and my teammate strapped to what looked like a hospital bed tilted on one end vertically, so she was almost standing while immobile.

I didn’t recognize the form Kori had chosen. She had gone Asian before, but this was a bit meeker than her normal look. Sure, the hips and tits were impressive and would put most lingerie models and pornstars to shame. The straps across her shoulders, stomach, and thighs still let me see her nipple piercings catching my light in the dark. But her hair was short and choppy, pressed to her face with sweat. Her skin didn’t have the radiant luster of someone with an expensive skin care routine. She looked weak. Tired. Mousy.

I lifted off the ground to pick up speed. “What happened? Have you seen —”

I froze as I heard the slam of the steel door behind me. I spun in midair to see Bastille — her uniform unzipped to her navel — spinning the mechanism to lock the steel door and trap all three of us in here.

“Bastille!” I shouted. My heart soared at the sight of her and thudded at the line of cleavage she was brazenly showing. “Help me with Kori.”

I turned back to Kori, got to her quickly, and started working at the straps. I heated my finger (with light, not fire), and cut through the straps one at a time.

“What happened?” I asked. “Are your comms dead too?”

“Yeah. I think she cut them.”

“Can you shift out of these straps?”

Kori shook her head. “She took that away.”

The light in my skin went out as my body went cold. “She can do that?”

A fat tear rolled down her face. “I … I don’t think it’s … I don’t think it’s permanent.”

“We need to get out of here,” I said. I charged my body with more light, making my finger burn hot (okay, it was almost fire).

“Careful,” Kori said, hissing as I went. “That’s fucking hot.”

“I know,” I said. “I’m —”

What felt like a tank plowed into me and knocked me to the side, taking the wind with me. I slid along the floor and into the bed on the other side of the room with my attacker still pinned to me. I flared bright and hot (still not fire), to try and stun my attacker and escape from their grip. But I couldn’t. It was steel.

I knew that grip.

I flexed and flew away, and Bastille couldn’t hold on. I was at the steel door by the time she was on her feet, and I checked to make sure it was locked. Of course, it was. On both sides. I spun as Bastille was waiting to charge me.

“Bastille, she’s got your mind,” I said. We knew Soma could mess with our heads. We’d seen what she did to Hauzer and a dozen other drones. We saw the video of ’Lon and Synapse … I don’t even know what to call that. I knew what she had done in my body, what she had done to Bastille’s body.

Bastille rolled her shoulders and flexed her arms, showing off the tight ripple of muscle. She preferred a sleeveless uniform to intimidate her enemies, but I had sparred with her enough to know that her invulnerability was more intimidating than her strength. I could take a dozen hits from her, and I was much faster. But I wasn’t going to let it come to that. I could fly out of range, hit her with a few light beams, disorient her, and —

She grabbed the bed, ripped off the headboard, and threw it at me. Without hesitating, I aimed my palm at the projectile and charged my hand, making my hand go from a warm golden to a pure white (a laser, definitely not fire). The white beam shot out of my palms, split the debris in two, and slammed into Bastille. Normally it wouldn’t do anything to her, but ever since that blue-haired nightmare — Soma, that was her name — messed with her head, I could burn her if the heat was high enough. If it was fire. But this was still in safe ranges and —

“Aaaah!” Kori screamed from the hospital bed she was still strapped to. I looked over to her, but nothing was touching her. “It’s hot!” she screamed. “Careful with —”

Another piece of the bed flew across the room and into my torso. I flew backwards with it, slamming into the wall behind me. I hissed as I pushed it off me and looked down to see splinters sticking out of my uniform.

“Crap,” I muttered, but I knew better than to fret over it. I could take more than a few shards of wood. And I had to move quickly because Bastille was finding more things to throw at me. So much for staying out of her range.

“Bastille,” I said, “you don’t want to do this.”

Bastille froze with a bedside table in her hands. Slowly, a wicked grin crept over her face. “Are you going to stop me?”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You think you can?”

“We both know I can.”

“Then do it.” She twisted her body and launched the bedside table like a frisbee, sending it spinning through the air towards me. “Hurt me, Mommy,” she said with a smirk, but I didn’t have time to be thoroughly creeped out by that. I aimed my hand and blasted it into tiny pieces, letting the shards of wood scatter across the room (okay, that was much closer to fire).

“Fuck!!” Kori screamed on the table. “Please, please, Surya, you have to stop.”

“Stop what?” I said, flying to the left to dodge a coffee table Bastille had found. “What’s hurting you?”

“You are!” Kori said. “It fucking burns.”

“I’m not pointing it at —” I ducked low as a lamp soared over my head. “At you.”

“Hurt me,” Bastille said. She sprinted across the room, charging at me. I tried to fly over her head, but she grabbed another lamp and swung it up like a spear. It rammed into my chest and pinned me to the ceiling. “Come on,” Bastille said with the same awful smirk on her face. “What are you waiting for?”

I looked back at Kori who was crying, but I couldn’t see any evidence of burns on her body. What the heck was happening?

Bastille twisted the lamp and kept pressing. My skin shouldn’t be pierced by it, but I felt the pressure against my ribs. I wasn’t going to last long like this.

“Hurt me!” Bastille roared. She pulled the lamp away suddenly, and as I fell towards her, she lifted a heavy boot and punted me across the room. I spun in mid-air and caught myself, flying softly before slamming into the wall.

But before I could get my bearings, the lamp was hurtling towards me like a javelin. Without thinking, I aimed my hand and let go a thin laser to slice it in two and let each half harmlessly pass around —

Instead of a delicate string of light, a torrid wall of fire (actual fire) shot from my hand. Not just a flamethrower’s stream, but a solid wall of flame disintegrated the lamp and rushed towards Bastille. Bastille spread her arms, ready to embrace the flame as though a long-lost lover. And Kori. My goodness, Kori howled. It was as though I had dipped her into lava, but her nerve endings weren’t dying.

“Uuuhn,” Bastille moaned, sinking to her knees as her perverse pleasure rippled through her body. But I wasn’t bothering with her. I rushed to Kori’s side.

“Are you okay?” I asked as I pulled on the straps again. “We need to get you out of here.”

“Why did you do that?” she asked with tears rolling down her cheeks. “I said it was hurting and —”

“I didn’t mean to.” I put my foot against the wall to get more leverage, but the straps were made of something else. Something I’d never dealt with before.

“Oh, fuck, yes,” Bastille said. Her voice was throaty and thick. I glanced over to see her still on her knees, her hand reaching down between the unzipped line of her uniform, touching herself. “Hurt me,” she said. “Hurt me more.”

“We need to get out of here,” I said to Kori. “Let me cut these.”

“Be careful,” Kori said. Her voice was shaking. “Please stop burning me.”

“I don’t get it,” I said as my finger glowed white hot. “I don’t see any burns.” I summoned another gentle line of white heat to cut the straps and —

Another surge of flame roared out of my finger. This time, as Kori screamed in agony, her arm did turn an awful red and black as I burned her. I stopped the flow of my power and staggered away from her. “Oh my god! Kori!” The words rushed out of my mouth, all of them piling on top of each other into desperate nonsense. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s happening. I can’t control —”

Bastille slammed into me, this time pressing me up against the wall next to Kori’s table and crushing me against the white wall. She grabbed my long black hair, twisted her hand, and pulled my head back. “I said, ‘hurt me,’” she growled before slamming my head into the wall.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

“Please,” Kori said. “Please don’t do it. Please don’t burn me and —”

“Hurt me!” Bastille yelled. “Why won’t you hurt me?”

My head spun from the panic, the confusion, and the building concussion. I could blast Bastille away. I knew it wouldn’t be hard to fight her off, but I didn’t want to give into whatever twisted fantasy she was feeding. I didn’t want to burn Kori in the meantime, and I, for some reason I couldn’t control my powers. Everything was an inferno. I was dangerous, and —

Bastille grabbed my shoulder, spun me, and pressed her lips against mine. I tried to fly away, but her hands were fast, grabbing my wrists and pinning them up against my head. We had been here before — when we first tried to track down Soma. I burned Bastille, and she felt for the first time. From there, I couldn’t stop her. But that time I didn’t want to stop her. Last time, there was an insatiable fire inside of me. I had been so alone for so long. You would think being the sexy face of Aurora Flight would make girls fawn over me. But I intimidated them, and I could never justify going on a date when there were people to help. Gosh, I was just so lonely. But then Bastille was kissing me and begging me to touch her, to hurt her, and I just wanted the loneliness to go away.

But this time, I didn’t have desperation to cloud my vision. I wasn’t going to kiss her back or melt into her touch. I wasn’t going to hurt her just because she wanted to get off. I was going to get out of this grip and save Kori. I was going to rescue Eidolon and Synapse. I was going to free Bastille. I was going to stop Soma and —

“Oh, it’s not Soma,” said a voice from across the room. Bastille broke our kiss and looked in the direction of the voice, and I followed her gaze. From a well-hidden side door, dressed in an all-black version of her Aurora Flight uniform, Synapse approached me. But this time she had a thin lace choker and heels she could murder with. Her lips were painted blue, and her cobalt blue hair was longer — to the middle of her back. She had the same confidence and arrogance of the awful video Soma had left for us, the one of Eidolon and Synapse …

“Fucking,” Synapse said as she clicked towards us. “The word you’re looking for is fucking.” She waved a hand behind her and the side door closed. “Be careful, Bastille. You’re hurting her wrist, and I’ll need those shortly.”

Bastille loosened her grip, and I craned my neck to get a better look at Synapse, to see her approaching in what looked like black latex and —

My mouth went dry.

Dangling between her legs was a cobalt blue strap-on. It swung with each step as she swayed her hips, carefully stalking towards me like a lioness about to devour her prey. The attached dildo didn’t look like any penis I’d seen — which to be fair, weren’t many. Nor was it the basic tube structure that I had back in my room at the Borealis. This looked like some kind of monster phallus, like some kind of mockery of human anatomy.

“Like it?” Synapse said as she stepped next to Bastille. “I prefer the inhuman nature. If I wanted a cock, I’d have summoned one of the many all-male superhero teams to be my lieutenants.”

“Your …”

“Lieutenants,” Synapse said with a smile that looked so sincere I was disgusted. “You don’t think I’d try to take over the world without my team, do you?” She patted Bastille on the shoulder and reached out to stroke Kori’s cheek. “I need my girls with me.”

“What happened to you?” I asked. “What did she do to —”

“No. See. This isn’t her.” Synapse gestured to the entire room and beyond. She reached out and pulled on the zipper of Bastille’s jumpsuit and freed her breasts, showing them recently pierced. Her nipples were still swollen and recovering, but I didn’t know which was worse: Synapse showing them off to me or the terrifying realization that Synapse had found a way to pierce Bastille.

“This is all me,” Synapse said. She reached out roughly for Bastille’s nipple, and instead of howling in pain, Bastille moaned with delight. Her knees softened, and I tried to take advantage of the moment, to rush forward, fly through them, and blast through the side door.

But my body was like rubber, ignoring my commands.

“Ooo, sorry,” Synapse said. “That’s not going to work. I’ve had my little nap, and I’m ready to keep things nice and safe for me.”

“What are you —”

“Don’t worry,” Synapse said. “You still have your powers. It’s more like I scrambled the controls. The sensations you used to summon them and guide your control are all a little wonky. Kinda like Kori’s skin being unbearably sensitive to heat. Sorry about that, love.”

Kori smiled like an idiot. “It’s okay.”

“I know,” Synapse said. “And you can hide that burn. Good bit of theater, but it’s a bit off-putting.”

Kori nodded, and I watched in horror as the black burn on her arm closed up and healed. No, not healed. It was fake. All to get into my head. All to make me second-guess and —

I reached for the source of my power, the heat in the pit of my stomach. But nothing happened.

Nothing happened.

Nothing happened.

Synapse laughed as the dread ran through my system. The chill ran to my heart as I realized she knew exactly what I was feeling — the panic, the impotence, the horror — and she thought it was funny.

“You can let go of her, Bastille,” Synapse said. “She isn’t going anywhere yet.”

Bastille released my wrists, and she and Synapse stepped away from me. I sank to my knees as my eyes filled with tears. This was it. This was the end. Soma got Synapse, and now Synapse was going to take me to her and —

A heeled boot kicked me in the face. It didn’t hurt as bad as Bastille’s blows, and I looked up to see Synapse looming over me. The fake demon cock between her legs hovered just above me. “How many times do I have to tell you?” Synapse said. “It’s not her. It’s me.”

She stepped away and gestured to her whole room. “You see, Soma made you all stupid horny when Bastille went all masochist with you a few weeks ago. She wanted you two to fuck so she could get me.” She turned back at me with her wicked amusement back on her face. “But I don’t feel like making you horny right now.”

“So what? You’re going to force me?”

Synapse clicked her tongue and shook her head. “No one with me does anything they don’t want to do. It’s not mind control. It’s more like …” A smile danced on her lips at a stray and delightful thought. “It’s more like an irresistible offer.”

“Like masochism?” I rose to my feet as the anger burned in me. That was where I first found my powers as a girl — in my temper. Since then, I’d learned to find it in healthier ways. But if she was taking me back to my roots, I had no problem getting upset to blast my out of this. “You mean to tell me that Bastille finds masochism irresistible?”

“Sensation,” Synapse said. “The poor girl hadn’t been feeling things in her skin or fingers. She was going numb. I woke her up. Who could refuse that?”

“And Kori? What are you offering her?”

“Acceptance. She wants to be herself. She’s tired of failing to be anything but herself.”

“This is a bunch of psychotic nonsense,” I said. I clenched my fists, hoping for some heat, some spark. Anything I could use to fight my way out.

“It’s an offer,” Synapse said. “And now it’s your turn.”

“I want my friends,” I said. “That’s it.”

“Done,” Synapse said. She crossed her arms, totally nonplussed by my demand. “You shall have them.”

“That’s it? Easy as that?”

“Sure,” Synapse said with a shrug. “An irresistible offer.”

“And in exchange you get what? My eternal devotion and service?”

Synapse laughed. “As though you could give that without my help.”

Chills ran through me again as Synapse kept laughing. As her chest shook with amusement, the demon cock strapped to her flopped as though it was laughing at me too. I could never understand straight women. Men were bad enough, but cocks were disgusting. They looked like eyeless worms or stuffed snakes. I could understand a woman captivated by a man’s broad shoulders or tight stomach. But I’d never get the desire to be stuffed repeatedly by some man’s skin puppet, let alone the urge to suck on it.

“I know you hate them,” Synapse said. She reached down and gripped her demon cock firmly. “I can sense the revulsion rippling off you in waves.”

“I don’t judge what you do in your free time.” Images of the video Soma left for us hours ago flashed through my mind of Synapse and Eidolon making love.

“Fucking,” Synapse corrected. “You make love. I fuck.”

I blushed and looked away. This conversation was surreal. Everything should have bothered me. I should be panicking and fighting for my life. I should blast all of them away, burn down the steel door, and escape.

“But you want to listen.” Synapse gently pushed Bastille aside. As the huge woman let go of me, I sank to my knees on the floor of this strange white apartment in the middle of hell. Synapse clicked towards me and squatted in front of me. She grabbed my chin and lifted my head to look into her eyes. “Soma gave you a surge of lust to make it easier for you last time. But I’m not interested in making it easy for any of you. One by one, I’m going to break each of you. And for you, my dear, it’s not your body that will betray you.” She reached out and put her hand on my chest. “It’s your heart.”

As she said it, my heart started pounding in my chest. My whole body pulsed and thumped with each beat, like the earth was shaking. My ears were warm. My cheeks must have been red. Light crept out of my fingertips. Something like fear — but not quite fear — overtook me.

“What do you want?” I whispered.

“Simple,” Synapse said. She lovingly stroked my cheek, and it broke me. No one — no woman — had touched me like that in years. “I want you to suck my cock.”

When she saw the repulsion on my face, her tender smile quickly changed to a cruel smirk and then a vicious, mocking laugh as she stood up. I was on my knees still, and the giant blue demon cock was left in front of my mouth, waiting for me. My skin ran cold and tight, and my stomach turned as I stared down the monster.

“Make it cum, and your friends can go.”

“Synapse, I …” My mouth was dry; my throat was hoarse. “I …”

“I have this little pump,” Synapse said, holding up what looked like a syringe attached to a tube that was attached to the base of the blue cock. “And when you drink your medicine, you’re free to go.”

I suppressed a gag at the idea of her fake cock cumming, let alone me having to have it inside me, let alone me having to swallow it. Taste it. Oh god, it might not even be synthetic cum. Whoever would go so far to create this psycho deathtrap could certainly get real cum from some stranger to fill their fake demon cock.

“I … I …” I tried to lick my lips. God, everything was so dry. “Please don’t.”

“I’m not doing anything to you,” Synapse said. “I’m not going to make you so horny that you’ll go stupid and serve the first cock in your life. I’m not going to make Bastille hold you down or hold the back of your head while I throat fuck you. This is something you have to do. You have to make me cum, and then your friends are free. Otherwise, you need to walk out of here without them, because there is no way you’re going to beat all three of us.”

“Please, I —”

“Surya.” Bastille knelt down and looked into my eyes. She had kind and round eyes. With her height and all of her lithe muscles, it was so easy to think of her as masculine. But her eyes were so girlish, so delightful. “Do it for me,” she said in a whisper. The sound of her words with their light French lilt always sent chills down my spine and over my scalp.

“But I’m not —”

“I know,” Bastille said. She leaned in close and gave me a tender kiss. Her lips were moist, and mine were cracked. But she was slow and lovely, as though she was passing on the moisture to me, healing the cracks, smoothing over the wounds. “But do it for me, mon amour,” she said. “Free me.”

She ran her hand over my cheek. Her eyes filled with tears.

“But you know I can’t,” I said as my own vision blurred with tears.

“Do it for me, Surya,” she said. “I love you.”

And just like that, I felt fire. Not light. Not heat. Not lasers. Fire. An inferno in my chest burning and consuming me like I had swallowed the wall of flame I burned Kori with. It was in my veins, purging every doubt out of me. I felt the heat of my light shining through my skin. Not white and pure. Not golden and holy. But orange and warm. Like a hearth. Yes. That was it. I wasn’t a sun; I was a hearth.

“Really?” My voice cracked. “You … You love me?”

Bastille nodded. A tear rolled down her cheek. “Save me, mon amour. Save me.”

“Mon amour,” I whispered. I knew enough French to know that I was her darling, her dear, her love.

“Mon amour,” she repeated and kissed me again. Once. Twice. Three times.

And then she pulled away, stood, and stepped aside to leave me alone with Synapse and the strap-on. But the fear in me was gone. I had faced worse. I had charged into battle and seen innocent people die in my arms. I had watched homes burn and villains win. I knew how dark the world could be. I knew how disgusting the human body could be as it died and passed on. And while this cock was bad as all the rest, I could face it. I could conquer it.

For Bastille.

For love.

I saw my hand still glowing orange as I reached out and gripped the blue cock. I was a hearth, a beacon of love and safety. I wasn’t going to burn anyone. I was going to fight off the cold, to keep them warm, to save them from a dark and horrible night. I was a hero, and even if the task was difficult, I was going to save my friends.

I didn’t hesitate. I wrapped my lips around the cock and got to work, sliding it deeper into my mouth.

“No teeth,” Synapse said. “If you want to make me cum, you have to be a good girl.”

I pursed my lips and pulled away from the cock. “Sorry. I —”

“No talking,” Synapse said as she stepped closer, pressing the cock against my lips, pressing my head against the wall behind me. “Just make me cum, pet.” I opened my mouth and let her cock slide inside of my mouth. I tried to control the pace, but my head had nowhere to go. And I wanted to get this over with, to be good for Synapse and make her cum so we could all go.

“Let me help her,” Bastille asked. “I can make her eager.”

Bastille reached for me, but Synapse slapped her hand away. “She gets no help. That’s the game.” Synapse eased her hands into the waves of my hair and grabbed it tight. “Now, work for it, Surya. You want to save your friends, don’t you?”

The warmth of my hearth-fire surged through me. And though my stomach turned as Synapse eased the cock deeper and deeper into my mouth, I didn’t want it to stop. I wanted to save my friends, and it was clear that this was the only way to make this happen. I wanted to prove my love for Bastille. I never wanted a cock in my life, but I always wanted to be a hero, to be loved.

I wrapped by hand around the base of the cock while Synapse slowly started to work her hips, pumping her cock in and out of my mouth. My mouth was watering, lubricating each thrust. My skin was glowing, burning. I wanted this. I wanted this. I wanted this. I was going to do it. I was going to save my friends. I was going to take Bastille home with me. And Synapse would heal her. And then I wouldn’t have to hurt her. I could simply love her. And she would love me. I wanted that. I wanted this.

I needed it.

“There it is,” Synapse said as she moved her hips faster and faster. “Good girl,” Synapse said. Warmth flooded over my skin, and the light was tinged with red. I wanted to be good. To be a hero. To be a good girl. I didn’t just want to be Bastille’s good girl. But Synapse’s good girl too. And Kori. And Io. And Soma. All of them. Everyone. Yes. My whole life I wanted to be good. I wanted to be light and not fire. And now I was. I was a good girl.

“Such a good girl,” Synapse said. “But now it’s going to hurt, okay?”

“Ohhkhh,” I said through a mouth full of cock. I didn’t care if it hurt. Being a hero hurt. Being good hurt.

Synapse didn’t pick up speed at first. She moved deeper, taking longer strokes as her hips and pelvis moved forward, inching the cock deeper into my mouth with each thrust.

“Relax your jaw,” Synapse said, and before I was conscious of doing anything with my body, my jaw tingled like it was going numb. And then the cock was sliding deeper with each thrust, reaching back to my throat.

“And your throat,” Synapse commanded. And just like before, my muscles eased into a natural position as the cock slid deeper and deeper inside of me, like my throat was made to be filled with cock.

“Mmm.” Synapse bit her lip and closed her eyes as she pressed against my face, easing herself deeper inside of me with natural and gentle strokes. “I should stop cheating,” Synapse said. “It’s not fair for you to think you’re doing a good job when really I’m doing all the work.”

“Whtsh yoush msh?” I asked with a mouth full of cock. Synapse pulled the cock out of my throat and stepped back. It glistened with my spit, and a thin trail connected my lips to the tip of the cock.

“Relax your jaw and throat,” she said. Her hands reached out and idly stroked her cock.

“I did,” I said. “I just —”

“No. I did that,” Synapse said. “Now relax it.”

“I don’t know how. I’ve never —”

“Practice,” Synapse said. She looked over at Kori and arched an eyebrow. “You need practice.”

Panic thundered through me. My orange and warm light dimmed to a pale and sickly gray. “No! I can do it!” I reached out for the cock and wrapped my glowing hands around it. I wasn’t going to fail. I was going to be good. That’s all I’d ever wanted to be. I know that other heroes wanted power or glory or fame. They wanted to be loved. But they didn’t know how empty the tabloids and press made someone feel. They didn’t know the joy of someone loving them genuinely — and neither did I, to be honest. But I knew that if I was good — truly good — then I would know what it meant to be loved.

My hands pumped the cock as I stretched out my jaw and throat, trying to relax them. Looking at the size and strange shape of the demon cock, I didn’t think I could fit it into my mouth, let alone my throat. But I’d done it before with Synapse’s help. I could do this. To save my friends — to be the hero — I could do this.

As I pumped with my hand, Synapse moaned softly to herself and leaned into it, enjoying each time my hand pounded into the base of the strap-on. Of course, that was when I was applying pressure to her clit. She needed to thrust, to slam into me, to feel me slam into her. That was the only way to make her cum, was to take her deep, hard and fast. My hand moved faster, and I let myself flex my power, building with pressure, speed, and force each time my hand hit the base.

“Uuuhn, fuck,” Synapse moaned. She leaned forward and put her hands against the wall to hold herself up, but I didn’t stop. I picked up speed knowing that I was getting her close. Then all at once she stepped away from me, though her breath was ragged, and her pupils were dilated. She was close.

“It’s supposed to be a blowjob, not a hand job,” Synapse said. “Good girls listen to instructions.”

I blushed and looked away. I didn’t protest and say that all she asked was that I make her cum. She was right. I wasn’t being a good girl. My light dimmed as my skin darkened with my blush and shame.

“Sorry,” I said.

“Now relax your jaw,” Synapse said as she approached my mouth with her big blue cock. “I’m close.”

“Give me —” But before I could finish, Synapse pressed the cock into my mouth. She thrust deep into me, reaching the back of my throat. I tried to relax my jaw, but it felt like she was splitting my face in two. When she pulled back, I tried to gasp for air, but she didn’t hesitate. She slammed back into my throat and found the way to reach further and deeper. She pressed harder, and I just tried to keep my mouth open while she did the work.

“No teeth,” Synapse hissed, and I tried to relax my jaw further and get my teeth away from the cock. I pressed my lips tight around it, hoping that was the right technique, but I had no idea. I’d never done this before.

You’ve never been good before.

The thought cut through my mind and struck me to the core. My chest ached, and tears filled my eyes. It was right, of course. Why else would I be so obsessed with trying to be good, with trying to be a hero? Only because I’d never had it before. I’d never been good enough before.

“Focus,” Synapse said. “I’m close.” She kept pressing into me, picking up speed. With each thrust, the back of my head bounced against the wall behind me, but I took the pain like a punch. I’d been through worse. I could do this. I could try to be good.

Others don’t have to try to be good.

Tears rolled down my cheek, but I couldn’t tell if they were from my gag reflex or the truth of the thought. The other members of Aurora Flight were so naturally good. They threw themselves into danger. They were compassionate and empathetic. They were heroes. They were good. I was playing dress up, able to fool everyone because my powers were so flashy. But at the end of the day, I was nowhere near as good as them.

“Use some tongue, goddamnit,” Synapse complained. She moaned slightly whenever the base of the dildo slammed against my mouth, but each press that deep meant the cock was down my throat, that I was choking on it.

I’d never been good.

And I couldn’t even suck a cock right. One of the most basic and primal human activities, and I couldn’t do it. Teenagers and whores across the world found a way to manage, and yet I couldn’t. I couldn’t be good. Not even good enough to suck a cock. All I had to do was make Synapse cum, and my friends would be free, but I couldn’t even pull that off.

“Come on,” Synapse said. “I’m close. Fuck.” She grabbed my hair tight in her hand. “Don’t go limp, bitch. Suck my cock.”

I tried, but everything I did was wrong. Too much teeth. Not enough tongue. Using all lips. No lips. Not relaxing my throat. Sucking too much. Not sucking enough. Not relaxing my jaw. Now bobbing my head. Not teasing the head. Not flicking with my tongue. Not enough. None of it was enough.

You’re not enough.

“Holy fucking shit.” Synapse stepped away from me, taking her cock and my hopes and dreams with her. She ran her hands through her blue hair with frustration and put her hands behind her head as she paced around the white room, her cock swaying on her hips as she paced.

“You can’t do it,” she said. “You can’t even suck a goddamn cock. I mean, fuck, I know you had no practice, but you can’t even make a woman cum?”

I didn’t say anything. My body burned with shame, and for a moment I thought the light emitting from me turned to a dark red — almost a purple.

Synapse put her hands down and approached me, though I don’t know why she was wasting her time. She had Kori and Bastille — two perfectly good girls. I dared to look up, but instead of seeing the cruel look of disappointment that she was obviously hiding, all I saw was a beatific and warm smile of a loving woman — of a good girl.

“The deal still stands,” Synapse said. “When you can make my cock cum, you can have your friends. All you need is practice. And that, we can give you.” Synapse snapped her fingers, and Kori turned into a snake, slithered out of her straps on the hospital bed, and then turned back into her same immaculate self.

But this time, a cock dangled between her legs.

A real, flesh and blood cock.

I watched with dread as it got hard.

“Show her how to be a good girl, Kori.” Kori laughed and took her position in front of me, the cock stiffening and twitching in front of me like something from my nightmares.

“Come, Bastille,” Synapse said as she walked out of the room. “I’m close, and I need you to do what Surya failed to accomplish.”

They both stepped out of the side door, and I was left alone with Kori and her hard cock. Left alone with the task at hand. I had to practice; I had to learn. It didn’t matter how much I hated it. I didn’t need to like it to do it. All that mattered was saving my friends.

All that mattered was being Synapse’s good girl.