The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

At breakfast we discussed all the differing concerns. I did have some breakfast stuff around. Eggs and milk in the fridge, but we had to use the microwave to defrost the bacon I kept in the freezer along with the concentrated OJ. Plenty of bread for toast – sandwiches were my forte.

Kirsten had us all be seated while she used some of the left over chicken and a couple slices of American cheese to make some surprisingly good omelets. It was rare, when we were together, that Kirsten allowed anyone to help her with the cooking and cleaning. So we sat and chatted while she did her gastronomical magic.

We were all just wearing robes since, when we were all together like this, our sex life had proven to be somewhat spontaneous and as long as we weren’t going anywhere or expecting guests, any sort of real clothing just got in the way.

“You guys were right, you should know your passwords,” I began, when the cooking was done, “and I think I know how to do it. But I have to do some experimenting. Bear in mind that I have never tested these shell personalities and the way I want to tighten them up, well, if I make the wrong sort of mistake, there’s no guarantee that you will be able to easily get out of that shell, if at all. That’s a worst case scenario, and not really likely, but it is possible that I won’t be able to get you out again. With that in mind, anyone want to be the guinea pig?”

“I’ll do it,” volunteered Kirsten, placing a pitcher of orange juice on the table and taking a seat, “you wouldn’t try it if you didn’t think it’s safe enough, I trust you.”

“You trust me? Have you forgotten that I once mind fucked you into being a humiliated and submissive sex slave?”

“Have you forgotten that when I had the chance to change that, I didn’t?”

“Touche.”

As we ate we went back over some of the concerns we had discussed the night before.

“If something happens to me you would be trapped, that’s why, in addition to telling you your password, each of you will know all the others as well. And you will be able to give the password verbally in order to free them. Assuming, of course, the experiment works.”

“If you can make it so we can return to our true selves if the bad guy isn’t around,” asked Kirsten, “won’t that solve the problem?”

“Not really. I’m gonna have to work it in a way that your true self can operate without the knowledge of your phony self. The shell will have to stay in place. And I don’t think I can link that ability to subvert your shell to the presence or absence of the bad guy, so, if this works, you will have to be very careful using it.”

“But why? If we can escape as soon as he leaves the room?” wondered Mike.

“I got this one.” said Tiffany, “anything can happen. We might get to a phone or a computer, but still be physically trapped in a locked house or room. It could be some time before we could even manage to get word out, and whose to say rescue would be immediate. If we are still there when the kidnapper returns the false persona would have to reassert. If that personality remembers what we did when the guy was gone, it would be all over.”

“Exactly,” I said with a nod, “it would be sort of like a multiple personality thing where one personality is unaware of the other, while the other one knows all about the first one.”

“This is getting more and more complicated, Jake” said Samantha, “I thought it was always best to keep it simple.”

“Nothing is simple where these mind fucking assholes are concerned.” Spat Mike.

After two years, he was still very, very pissed about my mother. She had been something of a surrogate mother at times and, of course, his first crush. And now, with this new information about one of them doing the sorts of things he had been doing to young girls, and the idea that there may be more like him out there who could potentially get their hands on one or more of the women we cared about, he was as bloody-minded as any of us.

“Relax sweetie,” said Tiffany, sliding her chair over and putting an arm around him, “we’ll figure this out.”

“I just can’t stand the thought of you or either of the others falling into the hands of someone like that guy from yesterday. Do you have any idea how many people just vanish into thin air every year? Millions! How many of them are now living a totally hellish existence? Shit, assuming they even know who they are or have any sort of frame of reference to know what hell they’re in.”

He turned to me.

“Jake, I don’t know what I can do to help you take these fuckers out, but God Damn It, if there’s anything... well I want in, I’m doing pretty good in martial arts and you know I can out-shoot you on the range.”

Pretty good, he says. In two years he had become a second degree black belt in Tae Kwon Do, a green belt in Brazilian Jiu Jitsu and had just started training in Krav Maga. His weightlifting had also been enthusiastically pursued and he was sporting some pretty big guns. The former punching bag nerd was nobody to trifle with now.

But physical prowess is only half the battle where mind fuckers are concerned.

“Having any of you near someone with these abilities is a risk. But you’re right, I won’t be able to do everything by myself. I learned that lesson a long time ago when Sam saved my ass.”

“No,” interjected Samantha, “that was a dumb move, I was just so worried about you. If you hadn’t stopped Phillip from getting to me, I might have killed you myself. There’s no way I could have lived with that. You were right to tell me to stay away.”

“Well, it worked out and I would’ve been dead if you hadn’t shown up.”

“We can work behind the scenes.” Offered Tiffany, “Mike, you can do your computer thing, I’m sure there will be lots of helpful shit there, and the rest of us can do other things. Maybe even act as decoys to flush out assholes like yesterday. Just so long as Jake is close enough to ensure nothing happens.”

She stood up and opened her robe to reveal her finely sculpted, voluptuous body.

“I ask you, what rapist, in his right mind, could resist this?”

“Don’t even joke...” groaned Mike, “if anyone were to hurt you like that... I can’t even think about it.”

She sat back down in his lap without bothering to close the robe.

“It’ll work out, babe.” She said gently, “We all want to help, we just have to find our niche.”

“We can get Jake some dark glasses and a cane so he can play blind.” said Samantha, “That way he can watch for aural activity while one of us helps him get around.”

“Yeah, like that.” quipped Tiffany, giving Mike a hug, then returning to her breakfast.

“I like that idea,” I said. “but we’re getting ahead of ourselves. I have to tweak the shell personas until they’re practicably infallible before we can do any of this.”

While we finished our breakfast. Mike brooded, Tiffany tried to lighten him up, Samantha kept trying to come up with ideas that would keep her close to me and Kirsten just ate quietly, watching it all.

When the plates were about empty, she finally spoke up.

“So when do you want to start the experiment?” She asked, collecting the plates.

“As soon as possible.”

“Well, let me finish the dishes and we can get started.”

Samantha stood and took the plates from Kirsten, setting them on the table.

“You go ahead, Tiff and I can clean up.”

“We can?” asked Tiffany. Then she saw the look on Samantha’s face, “Oh, yeah, sure we can.”

“Kirsten,” Samantha said, “Jake is pretty good at this stuff, you know that, and you trust him, but when he uses the word ‘experiment’ here, he means it, and you know that too. I think you are being incredibly brave and washing a few dishes is the least we can do as a way of thanking you.”

“Thank you, Mistress Samantha.” Said Kirsten, her eyes downcast.

“No, thank you, sweetheart.” Said Samantha moving in to give the tiny girl a warm hug.

“Come on,” I said, standing up and taking Kirsten’s hand, “let’s go into the living room where it’s more comfortable.”

Mike got up to follow but was stopped by Tiffany.

I heard her whisper as we left the room.

“Oh no, buddy, if I’m washing dishes, so are you.”

Kirsten sat down on the big chair and I sat across from her. Closing my eyes I called up the sight and immediately saw her ‘anxiety’ aura was, in this case, a ‘downright scared’ aura.

I opened my eyes.

“Kirsten,” I said gently, “I know this is scaring the shit out of you. You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I do.” she said, barely audible.

“Why?”

“It... it’s my duty.”

I went over to sit next to her in the chair, there was plenty of room, it was a fairly big chair and she didn’t take up much room.

“Kirsten, we all enjoy the role-playing of you being submissive to us, but you do know that’s all we consider it – role-playing. As far as any of us are concerned, you are our equal in every way. I don’t want you to do this because you think you have to.”

“No,” she said, her voice stronger now, “it’s not that. You and Samantha are in love, Tiffany and Mike are in love, you guys are all getting married soon and if anything were to happen to any of you, it would just be too devastating... and...”

“And what, sweetie?”

“Well... and I love you guys. It would kill me if one of the others got trapped in their mind like that. Seeing how it would affect the rest of you... I know you said it probably wouldn’t happen, but just in case...” her eyes dropped to the carpet, as though she couldn’t bear to say the next part while looking at me, “wouldn’t it... well, won’t it be better if it’s the fifth wheel?”

Before I could respond, a voice came from the kitchen door.

“You stupid little bitch.” Said Tiffany, her gentle tone not matching her words.

She rushed across the room, Samantha and Mike right behind her.

Tiffany sat on the arm of the chair opposite me, Samantha knelt in front of her and Mike took a knee between Samantha and Tiffany.

“Don’t you know that we all love you?” Tiffany asked.

Kirsten just sat, speechless.

“Do you really think we keep you around just for the sex?” Asked Samantha.

“I... I guess...” stammered Kirsten, “I mean... don’t you?”

“Of course not,” said Mike, “is this why you are always playing housekeeper, cook and valet in addition to being our sexual sub? So we’ll think twice before sending you packing?”

“I... I don’t know... maybe...”

Tears were forming in her eyes. I didn’t need to engage my talent to know that she was very confused. It was obvious that the idea that any of us had actual emotions for her, other than a friendly fondness and, of course, lust, was nearly inconceivable to her.

“Oh, sweetheart,” I said, tightening my arm around her, “I were to do anything permanently damaging to you that would also be devastating to me, do you think that these guys could stop me from cutting my own throat? You are every bit as important to me as any of the others.”

“But you only took me in the beginning because I was such a bitch.”

“That’s true,” said Samantha, her hands on Kirsten’s knees, “we did initially target you because you had been awful to Jake, Mike and a whole lot of other people. But it didn’t take long for you to turn over a new leaf, and if sex was all there was to our relationship with you, it would have ended a long time ago.”

“She’s right,” added Tiffany, “if you were here only because you’re a hot little sex pot, well, there’s a lot of other fish in the sea and life is to short to hang around with assholes.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” replied Tiffany, “way too short.”

“You know,” Mike said, “maybe we should stop the role-playing. If it’s made you feel like we don’t respect and care about you... I mean, it’s great and all, but only because I thought you liked it.”

“I do!” exclaimed Kirsten, “Being ordered around, told what to do, it all gives me a sense of... I don’t know... freedom. That’s not why... I mean... I just assumed... because you guys are so in love,” she looked at Mike and Tiffany, then at me and Samantha, “I sort of thought I was here as a distraction. I really like taking care of you guys, you never make me feel unappreciated, and the sex is always amazing. I meant it when I told Jake I love you, all of you. I just didn’t realize...”

“That we love you too?” asked Samantha, “Come here, baby.”

Samantha took Kirsten’s face, gently between her hands and brought their lips together, as lovingly as she could. It wasn’t a passionate, ‘I’m-gonna-fuck-you-like-you’ve-never-been-fucked-before’ type of kiss, which Samantha was very... very good at. It was an, ‘I-truly-love-you-from-the-bottom-of-my-heart’ type kiss.

The tears that had been brimming in her eyes fell freely down her cheeks.

“I... I never...”

I wrapped her up in my arms and let her sob quietly for just a little while.

“Maybe someone else should do the experiment.” said Mike after about a minute.

Kirsten lifted her head quickly and sniffled.

“No. I want to do this. If there’s any chance, no matter how small, that something could go wrong, I want to do it. Now more than ever. Not just because I love you guys, but because you guys love me.” Her voice cracked a little on the last few words.

“Okay,” Said Tiffany, “But we’re all gonna be right here.”

“Thank you,” Said Kirsten, grabbing the tissue Samantha had gotten from the coffee table, dabbing at the tears, “Thank you all, so much. I really had no idea.”

“That’s why I called you a stupid little bitch.” Said Tiffany, matter-of-factly.

Kirsten snorted a surprised laugh, quickly using the tissue to cover the snot trying to shoot from her nose. Samantha gave her another and she blew her nose, clearing out the rest.

She looked up at me.

“I’m ready now.”

Then she took my head in her hands and looked me right in the eyes.

“But promise me, if something does go wrong, no throat cutting.”

“I can promise you that, Kirz.” Assured Samantha.

Kirsten closed the distance between our lips and gave me a soft, loving kiss.

“I love you, Jake.”

“I love you, Kirz. I won’t fuck this up, sweetie,” I said softly, “I promise.”

We spread out, sort of. Mike sat on the couch, I moved to another chair, facing Kirsten as Samantha and Tiffany slid into the chair with Kirsten – it was snug, but they fit comfortably enough.

I called up the sight and, while her anxiety aura was still a bit inflamed, her love aura had swelled considerably. At this moment she felt loving and loved like she had never felt it before in her life.

I extended a tendril and connected with one of her auras at random.

Mentally sending out her password I completed the connection and was nearly overwhelmed by her emotions.

There was no reservation what-so-ever. She loved us unconditionally and absolutely believed we loved her the same.

As much as I wanted to bask in the invigorating warmth of her love, I slid past those feelings, and found the hidden shell I had previously installed. Having spent the night going over how to do what we wanted to accomplish, I was immediately disappointed with my workmanship of two years ago – even though at that time I considered them my masterpieces.

In the last two years, while I hadn’t manipulated minds much, I had been exploring and learning. Mostly with strangers and without them ever knowing someone had been tromping about in their brains, sorting through their innermost secrets and more or less invading their privacy in a way that they would never believe possible.

Benevolently, of course.

It took just over thirty minutes to make the changes I wanted. When I was pretty sure I had everything just the way it needed to be, and, more importantly, that I would be able to release her, I backed out and opened my eyes.

“Okay,” I said, blowing out a large breath, “It’s done. Now for the test. I’m gonna asked her some questions, make a contact that should send her into the shell, ask her the same questions while she’s in her shell, bring her out, repeat the questions, put her back in...”

“Are you stalling?” Asked Kirsten.

“Yes.”

“Well, stop it.”

“Alright... by the way, your password is your name pronounced backwards. When you want to do a temporary exit from your shell, don’t use the password, just will the false persona to go to sleep and your true self will be able to take over. The shell should reassert if another connection is made or you can go back in on your own. All you have to do to let the false one take back over is just mentally withdraw – you should know what I mean by that when you’re there, I don’t know if I can describe it. Good luck... Soooo... here goes.”

Calling up the sight again, I extended my own love aura as Kirsten’s was still her dominant emotion, I wanted to mimic how any other talent would connect.

I didn’t sense anything out of the ordinary when the sparks started, signaling a connection.

«You are under my thrall. You must do whatever I say and answer any questions honestly. To do otherwise is unthinkable.»

Keeping the connection, I opened my eyes.

Kirsten still sat opposite me, looking just as she had a moment ago. I could not discern any difference at all. I began to doubt it had even worked at all.

“Kirsten, can you tell me your password?”

“Sure, but which one? You mean like my email or facebook? Why would you want those?”

“No, I mean the password for breaking you out of your shell persona.”

“What the hell is a shell persona? You’re not making any sense.”

I released the connection to see if she would stay in her shell.

“A shell persona is something I constructed in your mind to protect you from others like me, who have psychic talents.”

“Psychic talents? Okay, now I know you’re fucking with me.”

Samantha, Tiffany and Mike all looked me with shock.

“So far, so good.” I said, satisfied that the first test had been successful.

“I would like the real Kirsten to come out now.”

“The real who? What the hell is going...”

She suddenly stopped talked, her eyes drooped and her head fell forward. Samantha and Tiffany held her so she wouldn’t fall.

Then, after a second or two, her head popped back up.

“Wow!” she exclaimed, with a big smile, “that is really freaky.”

“Do you know what a shell persona is now?”

“Yep, and the password and all about your abilities. It’s me, the real me, not the other me... but you were right, once I was in there, how to get back out wasn’t hard to figure out.”

“What’s it like in there?”

“Well, you definitely know when you’re in it. You lose a little peripheral vision, not too much, but it’s noticeable, and sounds have a slightly muffled quality to them, though they aren’t really muffled – that’s just the best word I can come up with. It’s like all the senses are one step removed from you. There’s a little residual of that effect right now. Probably because I’m not really released, just out on ‘parole’.”

“So it wasn’t hard to come out?”

“No, I just ‘wanted’ the other me to go to sleep and when it did, I simply followed the muffled senses out to the real world.”

“Great. One more thing, if anyone were to ask you what your favorite fruit is, what would you say?”

“Hard one... strawberries... or mangoes... probably strawberries.”

“Then for the purposes of this experiment, your favorite fruit, should anyone ask, are bananas.”

I reestablished the connection and without using her password, sent her a command. I wanted to see what would happen if one of them were to be surprised by a connection while in a temporary release.

«You are under my thrall.»

“I’m sorry,” said a confused Kirsten, “I must have dozed off. That’s never happened to me before. I hope I didn’t catch narcolepsy or something.”

“I don’t think that’s contagious, sweetie.” said Samantha, with a smile.

“What do you remember about the last few minutes?”

She was compelled to answer.

“You were asking me weird questions that didn’t make any sense. Stuff about shells, personas, passwords and psychic talents... crazy shit.”

“So you don’t know anything about any of those things?”

“No, of course not.”

“Can I ask you another question?”

“What is this? I mean, here we all were, having a real heart to heart conversation about how much we all love each other, and all of a sudden you start asking me random questions about impossible shit?”

“What is your favorite fruit?” She would have no choice but to answer. I sensed some mild distress, she was very confused and I wanted to end this as quickly as possible. Even though I knew the real Kirsten was watching from the background and was in no distress at all, just seeing her physical self going through this was disconcerting to me.

“Well, at least that’s a normal question. I’d say it’s a toss up between mangoes and strawberries – I suppose strawberries would be my preference if pushed.”

“Good. Mike, would you please give the password.”

“There you go with that password shit again. What the hell is that all about?”

While she talked, I saw Mike mentally spelling out her name in reverse.

“Netsrik.” He said with authority, as though he were a combat wizard intoning a spell.

“Geez, baby,” said Tiffany with a grin, “dramatic much?”

“I just thought the moment deserved a certain amount of flair, that’s all.”

“In case anyone was wondering,” said Kirsten, without having dozed off, “I’m back.”

“Same as before?”

“No, there’s no residual muffling of anything. Being sucked into the shell was the same, but when Mike said my password I was just back. I didn’t have to do anything.”

“And what is your favorite fruit?”

“Bananas!” She said. “At least for now.” She added with a smile. “You know, the experiment and all.”

“So,” said Samantha, “you remember everything from when you first went into your shell all the way through to when Mike released you?”

“Everything, didn’t miss a beat.”

“But the shell had some obvious gaps in it’s memory.” Observed, Tiffany.

“Yeah,” I replied, “anything about psychic abilities, shell personas or passwords is strictly ‘verboten’ to the shells. Your false personas simply can’t know about any of it. First, to protect you from getting subverted, and, if you are captured, a normal person knowing about the shadow world of psychics is likely to be subjected to some pretty nasty treatment while they try to find out what else you know and how you know it. Then you’ll be enslaved if not killed.”

“How did you do that?” Asked Mike.

“Think of your mind like a big library. Only the shelves are mostly empty. You are the librarian and you are constantly putting new books on the shelves.”

“Those books are our memories.” Said Tiffany.

“Exactly.”

“See? I may be slow, but I’m not stopped.”

“Anyway,” I continued with a chuckle, “any book, or memory, that has anything to do with the talent, false personas or passwords relating to false personas doesn’t get put on the self, you stick it in your pocket...”

“My pockets aren’t big enough to hold a book, never mind a whole bunch of them,” noted Tiffany, “do you mind if I use a backpack?”

“The books are very small,” I said, “and I would guess that’s especially true in your case.”

“Why Mr. Smith, I should be insulted.” She said with mock pique. “I’m gonna use a backpack. My books are plenty big.”

“Anyway,” I continued, “if you have duck into your shell, say a safe room hidden behind the circulation desk, you take all the books in your pocket...”

“Or backpack.”

“Right, or backpack, or rolling cart, or whatever, they go into the room with you.”

“So if my shell personality tries to access any of those memories,” said Samantha, “they simply aren’t on the shelves, so there are no memories to access.

“But my shell didn’t know to answer ‘banana’ to the fruit question,” noted Kirsten, “that had nothing to do with any of the forbidden topics, why didn’t it remember that?”

“You were told that while on temporary release, any memories you make in that condition are automatically carried back to the safe room with you. Which was why, for the experiment, I wanted you to give a false answer.”

“So, everything works?” Asked Tiffany.

“Oh, we’re not done yet. Kirsten, would you please call your mother and check in? It’s about that time anyway.”

Kirsten’s parent were old school, old country. Since Kirsten still lived at home, she was expected to keep them posted about where she was and what she was doing – typically, she would have let them know the night before that she wouldn’t be home. But we hadn’t done that, just as a precaution.

Call it paranoid, it probably was. But it was the only way I was going to sleep last night and paranoid or not, we all woke up safe and sound this morning.

“Oh, sure. She’s gonna be a little pissed I didn’t call last night.”

She got up and retrieved her purse from the counter and dug out her phone.

“Hi, mom, it’s me and I’m okay... I’m sorry... my phone was dead and I put it on a charger intending to call later and forgot... no, I didn’t forget you, just that I hadn’t called you...”

She looked at us and rolled her eyes, though there was no animosity in it, just an amused frustration.

“... Okay, it won’t happen again... I love you too and tell dad I love him... what?... probably tonight, I’ll call if not... yes I have a toothbrush and everything, I’m fine. I love you. Good bye.”

“God! They have issues. They really have to let go sometime.” She said with a frustration that lacked much of the previous amusement.

“It must be nice having someone who cares about you that much.” Said Mike.

His parents had, shall we say, their own issues. And their son had often taken a backseat to those issues – to the point that there were times he was sure they didn’t even remember they had a son. Heck, for most of our childhood, my mother gave him more attention than his.

We all knew this and Kirsten looked at him with a guilty blush.

“I suppose it is, it’s just a pain in the ass sometimes too.”

“Shit, I haven’t seen or spoken to my parents in three weeks, how much you want to bet they haven’t even noticed.”

“That’s why you have us.” Said Tiffany, moving to give her man a big hug.

“I know,” he said with a smile, “I wasn’t whining, I’m used to it. I just wanted to remind Kirsten that having doting parents isn’t all bad – it’s better than the opposite end of the pendulum.”

“Damn it, Mike” said Kirsten, “all that lovey dovey crap earlier and now this... If you’re trying to make me cry again, I’m gonna give you such a pinch.”

“I an effort to stave off violence,” said Samantha, “I shall interrupt with... you said the experiment wasn’t over?”

“Not yet. Kirsten, we’re gonna do one more round, are you ready?”

“You may fire when ready, Gridley.” she quipped.

History majors, sheesh.

I again, called up the sight and connected, this time using my unique way of connecting, just to see if the shell worked even when the connection was done without all the fireworks.

Again, I could sense nothing out of the ordinary when I ordered her compliance and then, dropping the connection, I opened my eyes.

She was standing in the middle of the living room holding her phone, and noting that everyone was staring at her.

“What?”

“Tell us about the last few minutes. Every detail you can remember.”

“God you guys are being weird today.” She had no choice but to comply. “But... we talked about our feelings for each other and you guys made it clear that I am more to you than a living sex doll, which means a lot to me. Then you asked me a bunch of stupid questions, I dozed off for some reason, then I called my mom, Mike got all sappy about that and now you’re asking me stupid questions again.”

“Yes I am, and what is your favorite fruit?”

“You already asked me that, either strawberries or mangoes,” she said, her brows furrowed in confusion, “but I’m supposed to answer bananas – I’m not sure why. I think it was something important. What the hell is going on?”

“Kirsten – the real Kirsten, I want you to release yourself using your password.”

“What do mean, the real Kirsten? I am the real Kirsten. You guys are starting to piss me...”

Her eyes drooped and all four of us rushed to her in a clumsy, Keystone Cop attempt to prevent her from falling. I’m not sure how, but we were successful.

Then her eyes opened and she said, “Netsrik.”

We looked at her expectantly.

“I’m back. It worked. I tried it from inside the shell but it didn’t work. So I came out into the ‘parole state’, which I could tell because of the slight muffling, then I said the password and all signs of muffling went away.”

Samantha gave me a warm hug.

“I’m so proud of you. It works perfectly.”

Mike gave me a hearty slap on the shoulder, which was a lot harder than he would have been able to do a few years ago.

“Good job, bro.”

Tiffany moved in for a hug too, pressing that wondrous physique against me.

“I knew you could do it.”

Kirsten, not to be left out, hugged me tightly and whispered, “Thank you, thank you for everything.”

Once all the congratulations were over, I asked everyone back out to the kitchen to talk about what we had learned over some coffee.

“So you see why you have to be careful. If you bring yourself completely out of the shell, then anything you do, unless it has a direct connection to any of the forbidden areas, will be remembered. That’s why Kirsten knew to answer bananas, but wasn’t sure why – the reason was the experiment, which involves the false personalities.”

“So Mr. Baddy,” said Tiffany, “would know, or at least make us tell him that we tried to call for help or escape.”

“But if we do those things while only in the ‘parole state’,” said Samantha, nodding to Kirsten as she reused the term Kirsten had used, “the shell personality won’t remember a thing.”

“Right. If one of these mind fuckers gets a hold of your true selves... well... please don’t ever let that happen.”

“But how could they do that?” asked Kirsten, “Wouldn’t we drop back behind out shell if they tried to connect to our minds, no matter what?”

“The shells primary defense is that the assholes won’t know it’s there. I learned the trick from my mom, who employed it only in desperation. Neither she nor ass-hat had ever heard of anyone doing it before. Alek was able to contact her true self and help her out of it. That tells me that if some psychic figures out it’s there, he might be able unravel it, especially if he’s good. It might take him hours or even days, but I don’t think they’re fool proof. You can’t let him have a clue it exists.”

“Shit,” said Mike, “if he decides we’re doing something he’s never seen before, and he doesn’t figure it out right away, he might just blow us away on general principles.”

“That is how they usually handle something they don’t understand.”

“So when to rest of us get these new and improved fake mental faces?” Asked Samantha, with a grin.

“Right now.”

It was about three hours later when I finished, and I have to admit, it was mentally exhausting. Samantha had been first and it took just a little longer than Kirsten. Then I did Tiffany and it was harder, but not too bad, though it did take quite a bit longer than the other two. When I got to Mike, it was like swimming in molasses and I thought I would never finish.

Eventually I did.

Mike noticed it first.

“Are you okay, bro? You don’t look so good.”

“Yeah,” added Tiffany, “You’ve looked better... a lot better.”

“I’m just tired. That took a lot out of me.”

“Why don’t you go upstairs and lie down while we finish cleaning up from breakfast. Kirsten, will you take care of Master Jake and see to it he gets some rest?”

“Yes, Mistress Samantha.” she said, falling back into the role.

Kirsten led me upstairs and attended to me.

Taking me to my bed, she turned to face me, the top of her head just below my adam’s apple. She looked up at me with her smoky almond eyes and slid my robe off my shoulders. In addition to the lust that smoldered in those sexy eyes, there was the sparkle of love. A love that washed over me like a warm summer breeze.

Despite my exhaustion, having her this close was exhilarating. I was getting some sort of second wind, from somewhere.

“You heard, Mistress Samantha, I am to see to your needs.” her warm fingers gently toyed with my hardened organ.

Pushing me slowly back onto the bed, she slid her robe down her shoulders with a graceful sexiness that promised heavenly pleasures.

Then she climbed on top of me, suckling my neck, her engorged nipples caressing my chest. She worked her way down to my swollen manhood and once again proved that she was the unchallenged champion of oral sex.

But that was just the teaser, in no time at all she had shifted up and took my cock into her tight little pussy.

She was loving, gentle and oh so sexy. She took her pleasure by giving me pleasure. She was, as always, amazing.

I think I fell deeply asleep with the last pulsing spasm of my orgasm. At least I don’t remember anything after that.