The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“…So you can see gentlemen, with this business model, we anticipate that construction will be delayed a few months on your resort, but the tourism potential and the revenues from your share of the software sales, plus being a launching point and home base for future college-based expeditions in your region will far outweigh the temporary losses.”

The conference room table was surrounded by well-dressed business men, recently arrived from Tunisia. Not one dared to even blink, lest they miss a second of Heather’s presentation. If presented by anyone else, the material would have been drier than dry. But with Heather leading the discussion…

For most of the last two hours, Gregg sat silently, watching the reactions of the university’s guests. Even President Lindegren, watched raptly. He had recovered sufficiently from his stroke (despite a now pronounced lisp and occasional tremors in his left hand) and wanted to be present to show the university’s support of this venture. To Gregg’s relief, the man had no recollection of the events of the day of his stroke. He didn’t remember David, nor the threats he was forced to carry out, nor David’s punishment of his failure. The man had been through enough and Gregg had no desire to try to erase his memory.

But it was the ongoing reactions from the men around the table that really interested him. He avoided using his powers to see what they were thinking and instead practiced the lessons Heather had been teaching him on just reading their expressions. Throughout Charli’s earlier presentation on the software she’d been developing for archeology students and a potential e-learning game, the men watched her with more interest than her subject matter warranted. Heather had suggested that since these men came from a male-dominated business culture, it would be best to keep them off balance by letting the women do the bulk of the presentations. Gregg was more than willing to give up his public speaking duties. Charli’s beautiful face framed in waves of raven-black hair and her voluptuous figure was like a magnet for their eyes. Over the past month, Charli had been practicing her poise under Heather’s tutelage (Heather could be a very rewarding teacher…), and now those lessons were paying off. It took a lot of practice to make the presentation sexy and sultry without being over-the-top lewd. Charli was still new to her sexuality and it was hard work doing what Heather made look so effortless.

Heather presented next on the integration of Charli’s work with the expansion of the resort to include this archeology-tourism aspect. Her skirt and business suit top could barely be called professional. While the hem was conservatively cut just above her knees, the material was so tight that one could make out the shape of her perfect ass beneath. Her heels gave her legs extra length and curve, and her blouse was tight and low-cut, showing a less-than-conservative amount of cleavage. Periodically during her presentation she’d rest her hands on the table so that the men opposite her could glimpse down her blouse. She also made a point of wearing non-prescription glasses for the sole purpose of taking them off from occasionally to chew and suck on the arm sexily when pretending to ponder something. Her green eyes shone brightly under dark eye shadow and her full lips glistened wetly. She even made a point to do some of the presentation standing behind Charli’s chair so she could seemingly absently play with Charli’s hair, or absently stroke Charli’s shoulder. Whenever that would happen, Charli would affect the look of someone being discretely masturbated, with lidded eyes and shallow breaths. The effect was both immediate and profound. Gregg had to work hard to stifle his grin, knowing that if she started barking like a dog, the men around the table would still just nod as if she were saying something interesting.

“So gentlemen, any questions?” Heather asked, concluding her presentation. She suddenly shivered and her nipples tented her blouse out as an invisible hand slid up the back of her skirt and began massaging her between her thighs. The twin extensions on her already sumptuous chest were immediately noticed by all in the room…since that’s where most of them had been looking anyways. More than one of them needed to loosen his tie.

Heather took a shuddering breath and gave Gregg a dirty look. Now that the secret was out in the open between them, Gregg was not shy about pulling little pranks like that. She often gave him exasperated looks, but she secretly enjoyed it (well, maybe not so secretly…). Sometimes they’d be at a restaurant or at the library and she’d point to someone and have Gregg make them horny, or think they were cold. One night at a bar, one of the patrons who’d had a little too much to drink started harassing the waitress…so, Heather suggested that he pee himself and verbally assault a police officer. In some ways it was like he was suddenly free to be a kid again…a kid with a particularly dirty mind.

Emily was in on the secret also, and so was Laura to an extent. Despite the fact that Laura was the first to figure it out, she also had the least interest in learning the details. Her Master, as she still called him, had powers…that was all she needed to know. Knowing the hows and the whys didn’t change the simple fact that she allowed to define her existence: Gregg=Master, Laura=Slave. Everything else was just noise.

Speaking of Laura, there was a knock at the door and Gregg rose to open it. It had to be him for no other reason than he was the only guy there without a hard-on conveniently hidden by the oblong table. If the men thought they were about to get a respite from the intense sexuality of the presentation, they were in for disappointment.

Gregg opened the door and Laura entered with Natalie by her side. Both were dressed in sexy-sophisticated outfits: one-piece gowns with heels. They both radiated elegance and confidence. “Dr. Walters, is now a good time?” The question was only for the men present. She’d entered when he sent her a silent signal that the presentation was over.

Gregg smiled. “Assuredly. Gentlemen, I hope I’m not being presumptuous, but I think we can wrap up here for today. Please let me introduce you to Laura, President of ESU’s Omega Xi sorority and Natalie, Omega Xi’s new social chairwoman. They will be in charge of your…uh, entertainment for the evening.”

That little pause said everything, and needless to say, the men were interested.

“Thank you Dr. Walters. Gentlemen, I hope you’ve worked up an…appetite…from today’s meetings. We have a limo waiting downstairs to take you all to dinner. We have good food and good…company…waiting for you. No doubt you’ve had an exhausting trip and a long day. The sisters of Omega Xi would like nothing better than to help you unwind and show you the hospitality of ESU.”

This was the part of the plan Gregg had the least support for, but Laura insisted. On the one hand, she argued, the sorority could use the international contacts and clientele, on the other…well, Laura had no problem “selling” her sorority’s services to to raise some revenue. After all, they’d all stood by when she got raped, so in her mind, there was no moral quandary in having them repay that debt: pound of flesh for pound of flesh.

Natalie escorted the Tunisians and President Lindegren out the room and down the stairs. “So, how did it go?” Laura asked. “They certainly seemed interested in what you had to offer!”

Heather smiled at the joke. “Yeah, they certainly did. Maybe they were even a little interested in the business plan! I think we got this in the bag…I wonder if they even heard anything we said!”

Laura laughed. “So, are we going to celebrate?”

Heather walked over to Gregg and put her arm around his waist. “I think my man and I are going to take a nice quiet night alone. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, my Queen.” Heather smiled at that. Gregg was the one with the power, but he truly treated her like a queen, of equal if not greater importance than himself. He only had to say that word and she’d get a little wet.

“But I don’t think Charli and Chad would mind your and Natalie’s company tonight.” Heather looked over at Charli and saw that the idea was most enticing.

“Okay, but don’t wear my Master out,” Laura giggled. Gregg grinned. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that even though he was going to spend the night alone with Heather, he was in more danger of being ‘worn out’ than Chad was with Charli, Laura, and Natalie. When Heather was in the mood, there was nothing to do but hang on and try to keep up. “He’s got a big day tomorrow…you both do, actually,” Laura winked.

Heather could hardly forget. Tomorrow, she was being inducted into Omega Xi as an honorary member. Even at just 24 years of age (just shy of 25), she was deemed too old for full membership…not that Heather would have chosen that. But an honorary membership was something that would allow Heather lifelong access to everything the sorority had to offer without any of the “service” obligations. But, being charitable, Heather had offered to teach a few master classes in sexy dancing, sexy walking, sexy makeup, sexy dress, and of course…sex. The only condition was that Gregg, Chad, and E’dan got to be her props. Needless to say, Gregg was more than alright with that idea.

Rivkah turned down Laura’s offer for honorary membership, but agreed to teach a few fitness and flexibility classes…at least until her pregnancy got in the way. Charli also turned down the offer, not wanting to affiliate herself with OX in any formal way. She was more than willing, however, to don her mask from time to time and help teach a few of the more willful girls about obedience.

Gregg’s minor celebrity status from his heroism at Heather’s apartment had grown ten-fold when the rumor/gossip mill made his particular physical gifts the stuff of legend. Even though Omega Xis weren’t supposed to have friends outside the walls of the sorority, the fact was that many of them did…if not roommates, then casual classroom acquaintances. From the dozen or so girls that partook in Laura’s now famous oral sex techniques class, word had spread and there was no shortage of women signing up for Gregg’s course offerings. No doubt most hoped to get a little extra instruction at his office hours. And if the rumor mill was burning now, by next week it would be on fire. Tomorrow, when Heather gets inducted, a larger audience will get to see her and Gregg give a performance that will leave them wanting more!

This honorary membership was the first of its kind at OX. With Natalie’s help and some input from Heather, they’d scripted the ceremony to take full advantage of Heather’s and Gregg’s gifts. Laura was slowly changing the culture at the sorority while also getting her revenge. Culture changes slowly, but she was making strides. For starters, she’d banned all negative talk about girl-on-girl sex. She’d successfully argued that if hinting at it was sexy, actually doing it was that much better. There were some detractors, but all in all, most of the girls were secretly glad they had this new outlet. Since traditional male-female sex was somewhat of a business for the sorority, getting to enjoy the simple pleasures the sisterhood could provide each other was a welcome respite.

Another change was to institute a charitable giving program. It was hard to argue against a requirement that all sisters had to volunteer their time somewhere. The sorority’s financial connections helped ensure that every year, big bucks would be funneled through them to needy organizations.

Shutting down the computer and the projector, Heather and Gregg exited the room with Charli and Laura following behind. He gave them each a soft sensual kiss, thanking them for all they’d done to contribute not only to this presentation, but also to his life in general.

And life was certainly good.

Knock, Knock

The girl in the hallway waited for someone to answer. She’d seen the light from the street and knew that someone was home. For several days, she’d walked past this address, look up longingly, and then with her courage failing her, she’d continue walking past, avoiding the gaze of passersby who might have recognized her.

She took a steadying breath and knocked again…determined to see this through.

Knock, Knock

She waited again, listening intently. Finally, she was rewarded by the sound of an interior door closing and of approaching footsteps.

The woman inside who opened the door looked annoyed.

“Yes,” Charli asked, tying the short silk robe closed while she peered through the gap the door-chain allowed. Perhaps it was a downstairs neighbor that they’d woken up…but now that she thought about it, her screams never elicited complaint before…

“Uh…” The girl was suddenly speechless, her tongue not working…the speech she’d rehearsed faded from memory at the site of the raven-haired beauty.

“Yes?” Charli asked again a little more annoyed, not yet ready to open the door fully.

“Ch…Mistress Cheryl.”

Charli was taken aback by that name. How could this petite little girl know… “Oh.” The door shut and Charli removed the chain, opening the door fully to really take in the person standing in the hallway.

Gone was the look of defiance, only meek sad eyes remained. Gone were the curls, so dutifully highlighted she once almost looked blonde. Only straight brown hair remained. Gone was the confidence, only fear filled the girl. But still, her beauty remained. She was several years older than Charli, but now looked more child-like and scared than Charli did before her own transformation.

“Brittany…it’s been a long time. I didn’t think we’d see each other again.” Those were the words she spoke, but her meaning was clear: “I HOPED we’d never see each other again.”

“Please, Mistress…uh, Charli…” Brittany stopped speaking, fumbling over what to call the person standing in front of her. She wanted to chew her fingernails as she’d grown prone to doing in the past month…but they were nibbled to the quick. Instead, she tapped her tongue stud against the back of her teeth. It gave her a pouty look, and one day (her dentist warned her), she was going to chip a tooth.

“You can call me Charli.”

“Okay…Charli. Please. Can we talk?”

Just a few months ago, Brittany Anderson would never have asked to talk…she simply would have expected you to listen. But that was before.

Charli spent a long time staring at her now beaten tormentor. She really wanted to slam the door shut. She was done with Brittany, or so she thought. No one had seen her since that night when E’dan had his heart attack and that poor girl Christine got hit by a car just outside Omega Xi. In all the confusion of what happened, everyone simply forgot about Brittany. When she was left alone in the President’s Room, it was all too clear that her life there was over. With no one to witness her shame, she quickly retreated down to her room, packed up two suitcases of clothing and valuables and left. No one had seen or heard from her since.

Sighing, Charli opened the door wider and motioned Brittany inside. ‘What the hell am I doing?’ she chided herself.

Charli pointed to a chair at the table. Gregg’s apartment had become hers and Chad’s almost defacto. Gregg pretty much lived at Heather’s and he let his friends use it as they wished. In fact, everyone pretty much had open access to everyone’s places…and the people in them. During daylight hours, a modicum of restraint was used because others such as Professors Whyte and Johnson came by the “HQ” sometimes to help make final preparations to the proposal before the Tunisians visited.

She went into the kitchen and put some water on to boil. While the hot pot quickly turned water into steam, she filled a plate with cookies. Laura had made sure there was an inexhaustible supply of Milano cookies on hand at all their residences…it seemed to have a special meaning for her. Charli remembered watching her eat one, and was sure that the lovely blonde had a small orgasm as she chewed slowly with her eyes closed, lost to some pleasant memory.

Brittany watched as Charli set the plate of cookies and opened two tea bags for their steaming mugs. Brittany refused to even pick up the mug until Charli indicated that it was okay. Staring into the brownish liquid, Brittany was stalling, trying so hard to build up courage that at one time was second nature.

“So, where have you been?” Charli finally asked, breaking the ice, asking the question that everyone on campus was dying to know.

“At Mistress Michelle’s.” Charli scalded her lip on the hot water when her wrist jerked in surprise at that.

“Wha…Where?!?”

“After…after that night…I…I dropped out of college. I stayed at a hotel for a while, but the money wasn’t going to last. I…I originally planned to…take…money out from my Omega Xi discretionary accounts, but the night I was impeached, my access to those funds was frozen. I really didn’t have any friends. But Mistress Michelle had given me her business card that night, and I was desperate, so I called. I’m now part of her stage show, in exchange for her letting me stay at her place…I also…um…help…with her and her husband…” Despite the theatrics of Michelle’s bondage and discipline musical review, Michelle’s slaps and spanks were real. Each night, the humiliation she endured on stage while Michelle ground through her playlist, was both cathartic as well as disappointing. No matter what Michelle did, it always fell short of her experiences with Mistress Cheryl and Dr. Walters.

Charli hadn’t seen Mistress Michelle perform since that night. They’d met a few times, but her friend never said anything about her new employee. No doubt Michelle thought it best not to mention Brittany’s name in front of her, given all she’d been through.

Brittany Anderson, once president of the most elite sorority on campus…reduced to being a chained submissive in a live concert/sex-show. Despite everything, Charli actually felt a little sad for the girl. She’d made her own bed out of shit and now was forced to sleep in it…but still, Charli felt a little sorry for the mess she’d gotten herself into.

“So what now?”

“I…I needed to see you.” Brittany put down her mug…she really didn’t have an appetite. “You completely changed my life.”

“You changed mine.”

“Yeah…well, either way, my life is completely different now…and you’re at the heart of that.” Brittany took a deep breath. “Are…are we even, now?”

Charli hadn’t expected that. They were over, as far as she was concerned…as to whether they were “even…”?

“Yeah…I guess you could say that.”

Relief seemed to flood Brittany’s face. She worked up the courage to ask the most important question. “Then…then maybe we can start over?”

Charli’s confused look was the only response.

“I…my life is empty right now. I need…need to…” Brittany sank to her knees and pressed her forehead against Charli’s bare foot. “Please, I need Mistress Cheryl back. I need her to tell me what to do…to punish me when I displease…to hurt me…to…to own me!”

Charli’s curiosity was piqued, as was her libido. Here was the former most powerful woman on campus, completely defeated, literally throwing herself at her feet. And she wasn’t seeking submission to some masked stranger with a paddle…it was Brittany willingly submitting herself, to Charli…the once shy computer geek turned dominatrix.

Little kisses rained down on her toes as did Brittany’s warm tears. With each passing second that Charli withheld judgment, Brittany’s grip on her calves tightened, the kisses became more desperate, and the tears more copious.

Relief finally came for Brittany when, from the corner of a tear-filled eye, she saw the sash that held Charli’s robe closed fall loosely to the side of the chair. She looked up and was greeted by the welcoming sight of Charli’s legs slowly parting, her creamy thighs opening to reveal the warm, wet lips. Brittany inhaled the musky scent and marveled at how wet Charli’s thighs were. At that moment, Brittany realized that her lips and tongue weren’t the first that would pleasure Charli in this way this evening. From the corner of her vision, Brittany could see several pairs of feet standing in an open doorway not 20 feet away…but she ignored them.

They didn’t matter. Pearls of moisture welcomed Brittany as she approached her mistress’s most sacred garden. Closing her eyes in final submission, Brittany leaned her face forward, lips meeting lips, tongue meeting clit. She licked and sucked at Charli’s pussy with a fervor she never had for any other lover. As her tongue danced in the folds of Charli’s pussy, Brittany shuddered with a small orgasm…then another. Her submission made her giddy. She had done the same countless times for Mistress Michelle, both on stage and off, but it was never like this. Charli was the woman who broke her…she was the woman who’d own her.

She remembered the trigger event, the night she tried to blackmail Dr. Walters. He’d seduced her and fucked her within an inch of her life. Orgasm after orgasm had wracked her body and she was left to wallow in babbling incoherence from the aftermath…and now that experience paled in comparison to the joy that filled her body and soul, that gave her purpose.

Charli played with Brittany’s hair while her new slave worked between her thighs. It was truly exciting, but Charli was holding back her climb to the mountain that was a climax. There was much to do yet tonight, and the creak of a floorboard signaled that now was a good time to start.

Pushing Brittany’s face away, Charli stood, letting the open robe fall from the chair to the floor in her wake. Brittany continued to kneel before the chair, her face glistening with saliva and Charli’s juices, her eyes locked on her Mistress. It was en effort not to lean forward and lick the chair where Charli’s juices had left wet smears.

Three naked women welcomed Charli into their circle. They were all in various stages of exhaustion. The way their arms and bodies encircled one another gave little doubt to the nature of their activities.

Brittany knew them all by name. Emily, Laura, and Natalie…all women she had wronged…all women she had hurt both physically and emotionally. All women who had taken their vengeance out on her in their own way…all women who owed her nothing.

They talked, all four of them, deciding the fate of Brittany Anderson. They talked for long minutes. At one point Charli looked back over her shoulder and asked almost casually, “Why are you still wearing clothes?”

Brittany hurriedly removed every stitch of clothing and returned to her meek pose. Perhaps they just wanted her naked so that when they threw her out she’d be that much more humiliated. So be it…she had nothing more to lose.

Finally, the naked council ended and they all turned to look at her. Brittany was so small and meek, it was almost pathetic. The physical wounds she’d inflicted on all of them had healed, but there were always the scars not visible to the naked eye. Charli smiled and patted her thigh, saying simply, “come.”

Like a dog, Brittany crawled on all fours to the group, her ass high in the air and her eyes cast down to the floor even when she stopped at Charli’s side. Her training with Michelle and her desperation to please Charli ensured that she didn’t presume anything.

Charli petted her head, and pulled back slightly on her hair so that Brittany was forced to look up at the circle of women looking down at her.

“You came here tonight looking for me to take you as my slave. That is not going to happen.”

Brittany choked back the sob but couldn’t keep the tear from falling.

“Instead,” Charli continued, “you will be slave to the four of us…plus anyone else we feel should control you at any time. You will live to serve us, however we see fit. Is this understood?”

Brittany nodded once, too stunned to speak.

“Good. Remember, you are on a very short leash. Displease us, and we’re done with you.” Brittany nodded again. “Good. Very good. Now, Natalie here thinks Chad’s done for the night. You will crawl into the bedroom and resurrect him for my pleasure. If you can’t get him hard…well, I still have your pledge paddle for motivation. After that I’m sure the four of us will be able to keep you plenty occupied.”

Natalie, Laura, and Emily turned and walked back into the room, each taking positions around Chad’s spent body lying sprawled on the bed, his cock lying limply on his thigh. They’d been fucking him for what seemed like hours, and he didn’t have infinite stamina like Gregg seemed to have. He was softly snoring when Brittany crawled up onto the bed and took his sticky cock into her mouth.

Charli closed the bedroom door behind her, a huge smile across her face.

She didn’t sob. She didn’t shed a tear. But neither did she smile. The news left her as indifferent as if someone had told her the paint on the wall was green.

David was dead.

They were the first words Brian had spoken to her two days ago when she finally awoke from her coma. “David’s dead, Christine. The police found his body under an onramp. It happened just after your…your accident. They said it looked like he died in his sleep…maybe a drug overdose.”

Christine had simply nodded and gone back to sleep. She knew the truth. She knew that the only reason she was alive today was BECAUSE David was dead. She could still feel the icy chill that had gone through her body when he had called her to the dream and tried to drain her strength. She also remembered the fiery warmth when she took it back…and more. So much more.

She drifted in and out of sleep as the medically induced coma wore off. Brian, who’d apparently never left her side in the past month, explained everything in a very detached, almost monotone way. When she asked if she’d had any visitors, he simply stated that only Dr. Walters and a few of his friends had visited. There was no sign of Adam, and none of her family had even called. Whenever he tried to contact them, they’d hang up.

Christine couldn’t blame them, though it still hurt. Under David’s control (and Adam’s urging), she’d been forced into a sexual relationship with her own sister. They’d stolen from her parents. The sweet, pious little girl they’d raised had returned from Tunisia a wanton whore in their eyes. Maybe Merriam had told her parents what she’d done…maybe not. None of them were talking to her, so she didn’t know. Given all that had happened, she was as dead to her family as if that van had truly killed her.

They might have been freed from David’s cruel grip, but Brian was clearly broken. Psychologists talk about the trauma endured by victims of violence…but Brian was someone who’d witnessed too much. He had watched helplessly as the woman he loved was used, abused, beaten, raped…and forced to enjoy it all. There was no more warmth left in his eyes…and she wondered if there was any left in hers.

And so it was that two days after waking, a young, spritely nurse entered the room. She promptly shooed Brian out into the waiting area as she prepared a basin of warm water and unwrapped some bathing packs. With efficient fingers, the nurse undid Christine’s gown and removed it. There were surprisingly few scars on Christine’s body, given the trauma it had gone through. The doctors had marveled at it, that despite numerous surgeries, Christine’s skin had healed to near perfection and always within just a few days. A single IV line was still attacked to her arm, and an odd discoloring to her hand, but other than that, she looked perfectly healthy. The sight of her own hand made Christine ill…the scar was identical to David’s…the one he boasted of earning when he got hit by lightning…when her nightmare began.

“Don’t worry about your hand, hon. Given all you’ve been through, I’d say that little bit of white is a gift…to remind you that you survived. I’ve seen plenty of patients come out of what you just went though a heck of a lot worse. Maybe we’ll be able to release you soon. Then you could get your hair dyed red again. It must be so nice to have such a devoted boyfriend. I don’t think he’s left your side in weeks. We literally had to bring food to him or he would have gone without.”

‘Just shut up,’ Christine thought, not wanting to hear the nurse prattle on…especially about things she knew nothing about. Thankfully, the nurse chose that moment to stop talking.

Christine had seen herself in a mirror yesterday. He had expected to see a face sliced up and scarred, but to hers and everyone’s surprise, she looked stunning. It was strange seeing herself with blue eyes again, now that she no longer had to wear green tinted lenses to keep David happy. Her naturally blonde hair was growing in, and she looked somewhat comical with long red hair with a blonde patch at the top. No, she wasn’t going to dye it. When enough had grown in, she was going to cut away everything that was red.

The wet cloth slid up and down her torso, gently but efficiently scrubbing away the sweat and stink from lying in bed. Christine watched her, amazed at the woman’s sudden silence. The nurse’s lips quivered, clearly wanting to say something, but something was holding her back.

‘She talks because she’s afraid of the silence,’ Christine thought. ‘Wait, what does that mean?’ And then, like a bolt of lightning she saw the truth. She saw the nurse at home, cooking dinner. Her husband was in the living room watching sports, drinking a beer. Half a dozen empty bottles were in front of him on the coffee table. When his team did well, he’d cheer. When they didn’t…silence. And if they lost, silence would turn to violence. After two years of marriage, she’d sought comfort with one of her fellow nurses, and that night had turned sexual. She was so ashamed of what had happened. Despite the other nurse’s attempt, this one…Cindy...her name was Cindy…avoided any further contact. That was why she had that need to talk…because silence was a signal of pain to come.

Christine’s skin broke out in goose bumps. She had read this girl’s mind. She had connected. Cindy continued to rinse down Christine’s body, and Christine couldn’t help but get excited. She could feel the power inside her, and suddenly she knew she wanted this young girl. Unlike the pleasures she was forced to endure by David or the whores he’d brought for her, Christine genuinely wanted this girl. She wanted to save her, like no one was able save herself.

Christine grabbed Cindy’s hand and pulled her down toward the bed. Cindy didn’t know why she sat beside the naked patient. She didn’t know why she smoothed the hair from her damp forehead. She didn’t know why she leaned forward and kissed this beautiful woman. She also didn’t know why she knew that soon she’d not only bury her face in this woman’s golden pussy, but when her boyfriend returned, she’d gladly drop to her knees and worship his cock. She only knew that she’d never see her abusive husband again and that this seemingly helpless woman sprawled before her would keep her safe.

“That…that was nice,” Christine gasped, pulling Cindy’s eager face from between her thighs.

“Thank you…my Queen.”

That name, once used by David to mock her helplessness, now took on a new meaning. Christine stared into Cindy’s wide eyes. The girl looked desperate to please. She looked afraid that she’d gone too far by letting that word (that word that felt so right) slip.

Christine lifted her knee and spread her legs a little. A gentle tug on the girl’s hair was all the direction she needed. Christine felt the joy of acceptance flow through Cindy’s body. As tongue met clit again, Christine smiled and began to accept her new role.

Outside in the hallway, a man with scraggly hair dressed in a black trench coat jotted a few notes on a pad of paper. The boy Brian was sitting beside him, completely unaware of events unfolding in the room behind them. Nor was he aware of just how much better his life was about to become. His bond to Christine was already well established, but being enthralled to this new master would be infinitely more enjoyable than his old. Deuce wanted to offer the boy some words of comfort or perhaps congratulations, but his superiors had chastised him for getting too involved with his subjects already.

Still, despite the ad-hoc nature of the research that was just ending, they had agreed to change their paradigm. Instead of looking for powerful people to bestow their “gift” upon, they would look for meek individuals who had a spark of greatness inside them. Over the next couple centuries, perhaps this new model would work as successfully as the accidental Gregg experiment.

The end of a study always made him sad. But this time was different. Usually, he was left analyzing bloody remains. Deuce had begun to despair that regardless of humanity’s gains in thought and deed, the underline nature of humans would prevent their ever being ready for this next step in their evolution. This time, only the boy David had died…Gregg had lived…thanks to his own little nudge. If the study weren’t flawed from the start, he might have been in more serious trouble, but they had let it slide, and teased him about his growing “humanity.” It was meant as an insult, but Deuce thought that if Gregg was the model, he’d take it as a compliment.

Only because the experiment worked…sort of…was it considered a success. It had started like so many others – boy wakes up in hospital, seduces nurse, etc. Teacher seduces hot young students. It was a tale that had been told countless times before. Gregg, like so many before him took advantage of his power, even when he didn’t realize what he was doing. Deuce chuckled to himself a bit at the memory of Gregg waking in the hospital with his newly enlarged genitals. There was something about the male psyche that always led to that…Gregg was more enlightened than most but in some ways, he was still just a shaved ape…but a shaved ape that could hold a conversation. In the end, it was Gregg’s reluctance, his fear of his own powers…his fear of his own humanity that saved him.

The committee had agreed to let Gregg keep his powers, but he’d be closely monitored. Gregg didn’t know any of this. He just knew he was alive and in love. They’d also agreed to just keep an eye on Christine. They’d never had a mind slave turn into a master before. It was unprecedented. While the research protocols suggested that Christine and everyone associated with the failed side of the experiment be killed, Deuce had argued that it was in their best interest as researchers to see where this went.

But now it was time to move onto the next study. Deuce stood and removed his coat, setting it beside Brian on the bench. Brian looked up, but the hallway was empty, except for a pale-skinned, heavily freckled man checking his cravat in a mirror at the nurse’s station. His nose was slightly too big for his face and Brian thought the guy reminded him a little Alan Rickman…but in a bad wig.

Brian picked up the coat and looked around. “Excuse me sir…did…did you see where the guy wearing this coat went?”

The man turned around and pulled a plane ticket out from his blazer and checked the information. The cravat was pretty silly, like some flamboyant homosexual from the seventies. “Nope. I haven’t seen anybody lad,” the man said in a heavy Scottish burr. He fiddled more with his cravat, pulling out a diamond stud to keep it in place. “Nobody but you, me, and my crazy affectations.”

The Scottish Highlands were certainly dreary…and yet strangely beautiful. Certainly different from Chicago.

Sitting in the back corner of a tiny pub on a forgotten bit of land in the middle of nowhere, Adam sipped a dark beer and took occasional nibbles from his shepherd’s pie. The pub hadn’t seen more than three other patrons all day and Adam wondered if the place’s owner really could afford lamb for the stew…There were plenty of cats wandering in and out of the open kitchen door hoping for a free handout, and suddenly the thought of what might actually be in his lunch turned his stomach. For now, he decided, he’d stick to just drinking his ale.

If there was one thing Adam was, it was resourceful. He’d always managed to surprise everybody, especially when nobody gave him any credit. His experience with David had taught him two important lessons: (1) magic is real, and (2) lesser minds shouldn’t be the ones to wield it.

Sure, everyone thought him just a sadistic manipulator as eager to inflict pain as pleasure…or at least get his pleasure from inflicting pain. That was true enough. But what no one seemed to notice was just how good a listener he was. When David died, unexpectedly but thankfully, Adam was free to finally assume his own destiny. Every night he had kept his ears open. From David’s often incoherent nighttime mumblings, Adam had pieced together some of the mystery behind his friend’s strange powers.

Rogue had become scholar overnight. Adam was never much of one for books, but he never before had such a strong motivation for seeking information. When David finally snapped and began trying to kill people, Adam knew it was time to move on. When David actually died, Adam felt the yoke of his “master” lifted like a cloud off his mind. He ran back to Merriam’s dorm room and collected his things. Merriam was there and she could also feel the weight lifted, but she was still afraid enough of Adam not to put up a fight.

Like piecing together a puzzle, Adam had combed through his notes and extracted everything David had mentioned about his “past life” as Nate Hampshaw, the Chicago gangster who had inherited these powers in the early decades of the 20th century. Adam practically moved into the Chicago Public Library, researching newspaper clippings and architectural drawings. But every place in which Nate had lived, loved, and died had since been torn down and made new again. There was nothing to gain from staying.

Thus, the Scottish Highlands. Some of David’s more horrific nightmares involved some ruined castles not very far from this very pub. Davis McCall may not have been named in many history books, but here, in sight of his infamy, his name was legend, whispered to misbehaving kids like a bogey man.

Adam passed himself off as a college-student learning folklore as part of an independent study, but in truth his mission was more sinister. It was such a waste that David stumbled upon his powers at the dig. Actually, it was that goodie-goodie Dr. Walters that found it…David was only lucky enough to be in the vicinity. If Adam had been left to operate the camera that fateful day instead of his weak-minded friend, things would have turned out very differently. Well, lightning can strike twice…especially if one knew when and where to raise the lightning rod.

And if whoever left those powers just lying around (so to speak) had left powers elsewhere…Well, in Adam’s experience people who forget to turn off the stove once are likely to do it again…

Using David’s memories as a historical roadmap, Adam was intent to visit the site of every one of David’s dreams until he “stumbled” on some powers of his own.

Dr. Walters would be proud. Unlike any of his other students, Adam was becoming quite the historian…a historian looking for artifacts…looking for power.

And once that power became his, there were two “Queens” that would kneel at his feet and become his.