The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“There is much ignorance in the world,” said Edge.

The brown-haired, athletic-looking Jezz looked at the shorter, thinner Edge. Her sensei, master of Tae Kwon Heat, appeared to be perhaps eighty years old—although Jezz knew he was older—and she couldn’t be sure where he was going with this. She replied cautiously. “Oh?”

“Yes,” said Edge. “While watching the philosopher Kip Klinger…”

Jezz sighed. “You mean ‘Crazy Kip’, the tabloid talk show host?”

“While watching the philosopher Kip Klinger,” continued Edge, “I observed as he espoused on the nature of different relationships.”

Jezz looked at Edge. “Wasn’t today’s episode called, ‘Keep Your Hands Off My Man, You Skank’?”

Edge nodded, pleased. “It was indeed. It is good to see you take an interest in the arts, Jezebel. There is perhaps hope for your development after all, faint though it may be.”

Jezz rolled her eyes. “C’mon, Edge. I know you love your daytime talk shows, but art? Klinger’s show is the talk show equivalent of professional wrestling.”

“Explaining culture to one of your limitations is to explain color to the blind,” said Edge. “Even I cannot make a diamond from mud. At any rate, the philosopher Kip Klinger did indeed engage in conversation with a number of persons in search of wisdom.”

“In search of high ratings from the trailer park viewing demographics, you mean.”

“And during this quest for knowledge,” continued Edge, “many titles were awarded.”

Jezz paused. “Titles?” she said, curious in spite of herself.

Edge nodded. “Indeed,” he said. “One known as Clara awarded one known as Deana the title of ‘ho’. I do not know if she was truly qualified to award titles to others, but Deana became quite animated by the honor and she gifted Clara with a title as well…the title of ‘hoochie’.”

“I see,” said Jezz.

“Yes,” said Edge, stroking his long goatee. “They were quite overwhelmed by the experience, however.”

“Oh?”

“Yes,” said Edge. “Quite overwhelmed. They began to do battle on the spot.”

Jezz nodded wisely. “That happens sometimes when ho’s and hoochies face off, sensei.”

“It seemed quite fierce,” said Edge. Then his face hardened. “However, the glory of their battle was dulled by ignorance.”

“Ignorance, sensei?”

“Yes, ignorance!” said Edge. “Hoochie Clara attempted to strike Ho Deana with a blow she called a ‘bitch slap’. However, when she struck Ho Deana, she was not properly balanced. And when Ho Deana attempted to return Hoochie Clara’s blow, the angle of her arm was completely wrong, thus leaving her open to a counter-strike.”

“Shocking,” said Jezz.

“Indeed,” said Edge. “Then Hoochie Clara stated she was going to utilize a blow called, ‘cut a bitch’ and Ho Deana invited the blow, stating she would counter-strike using a ‘shank’.”

“Wow,” said Jezz, her facial expression failing to convey any sense of wonder or amazement. “Intense show today.”

“Indeed,” said Edge. Then he shook his head and said, “One should never talk their battle. Do or do not. Talking one’s battle is the yapping of a small dog.”

Jezz said, “It’s a ritual called ‘talking smack’, sensei.”

Edge said, “Why am I not surprised you are familiar with such a silly waste of pre-battle preparation?”

Jezz rolled her eyes. “It’s no worse than some of the other stuff you watch, sensei. Like that talk show with the therapist guy…”

Edge said, “One assumes you mean Dr. X.”

“Yeah,” said Jezz. “What’s his show called again? The Casefiles of Underground Hypnotherapist Dr. X, right?”

“Indeed,” said Edge. “Dr. X is a wizened teacher seeking only to put his charges on a path to understanding.”

“Try another story,” said Jezz. “He puts his patients under and sends them out in public naked or knocks ‘em up. You like Dr. X because he’s every bit as pervy as you. And that other talk show you watch…Madman something something…”

“Maximilian Madcap.”

“That’s the one,” said Jezz. “Mad Max.”

“He is a brilliant artist.”

“He’s a loony.”

“Perhaps you mis-spoke, Jezebel.”

“Not at all, sensei. ‘This week on The Maximilian Madcap Madness Hour…Gothic rappers who marry barnyard animals! Tune in!’ Yeah, Mad Max is a gem.”

“I’m sure you mis-spoke, apprentice.”

“My wife is cheating on me with a carp!”

“I have no doubt you mis-speak, apprentice.”

“Tune in later today to learn the dangers of boiling cabbage in a copper pot while a penguin stands on your television!”

“I am positive you mis-speak, apprentice. But fear not. Like Hoochie Clara and Ho Deana, you too shall now have a title.”

It finally registered with Jezz—who had been warming to her topic—that Edge’s voice had changed. Only slightly, but Jezz was sensitive to the slightest shift of resonance in her sensei’s voice.

“You know, sensei, I think you’re right,” said Jezz, taking a step backward. “I mis-spoke.”

“False modesty is unbecoming, Jezebel,” said Edge, who appeared to be moving slowly, yet was somehow moving faster than Jezz. “You have earned your title.”

“I have earned nothing, sensei,” said Jezz, twisting, trying to avoid the reaching hands of Edge. “I am but a lowly student.”

Edge caught the front of Jezz’s top while reaching behind him and hooking a chair with his foot. In a sudden explosion of motion, he twirled and sat on the chair that was suddenly directly behind him while pulling Jezz over his lap and sliding her stretch pants past her rounded bottom and down her thighs.

Jezz’s eyes widened as she suddenly realized her ass was bare and her legs were pinned by her teacher’s leg. “No, sensei! I mis-spoke! I mis-spoke!”

Jezz tried to twist off Edge’s lap, but her sensei pressed his fingers into a nerve cluster at the base of her neck and suddenly she had no control of her limbs.

“Your title, apprentice, shall be ‘Red-Bottomed Playtoy’,” said Edge.

And then Edge began spanking Jezz’s bare bottom with the flat of his hand.

A spanking to one with Jezz’s pain tolerance and ability to separate herself from sensation would normally be of little matter. However, a spanking from the master Edge was not a typical spanking.

Edge was short—only a few inches over five feet—and his hands were corresponding smaller as well. To Jezz, however, it seemed that Edge had gorilla-sized mitts on the ends of his arms. Every blow against her rounded cheeks radiated waves of heat and sensation throughout her midsection. He wasn’t just spanking her bottom. He was using variations of secrets, drawing from his vast depths of knowledge, to work her overheated cheeks into a fiery red glow.

Jezz squirmed as much as she was able, but her master was pressing her the nerves that prevented her from using fine-tune movements. She was able to flop her arms around, but little else.

Then Edge shifted his spanking technique. It was a subtle change, unnoticeable to someone who didn’t know what to look for, but Jezz recognized it.

It was a move from the hierarchy of heat, one of 32 steps. The molten spank.

Jezz was helpless to stop it. Edge’s blows to her ass cheeks, while still causing a burning sensation, were now causing a different type of heat. A far more embarrassing heat.

“No, sensei!” said Jezz. “Not that! I’ll be good! Honest!”

Her sensei ignored her pleas and Jezz could now feel her belly muscles twitching and jumping with each slap to her bottom. Her hips were squirming on Edge’s lap and her bare, fiery ass jiggled and Edge continued an impossibly rigid spanking routine.

Sensation blossomed across her bottom and Jezz could no longer ignore the burning in her belly. Every slap from Edge’s hand sent pulses through her nervous system, causing a buzzing from the tips of her fingers to the tips of her toes.

Jezz moaned. “Sensei…I’m…I’m going to…”

Edge brought his palm down against Jezz’s fiery bottom one final time, then rolled her off his lap, tumbling her to the ground.

Jezz moaned again, her hand slapping between her thighs, her fingers helplessly seeking her clit. Edge’s high-pitched laugh sounded.

“Mighty warrior?” said Edge. “Ha! Soft playtoy.”

Jezz worked her clit desperately, legs splayed, hips bucking. Edge’s high-pitched laughter sounded again. Then he turned and left the room.

Jezz hardly noticed. She was feeling the explosion of heat and pleasure in her belly.

Four hours later, Jezz was still on the floor, helplessly working her clit. A molten spank left one in heated need for hours afterward, regardless of how many times one climaxed. Hips bucking, Jezz came again, her low moan echoing throughout the converted garage that served as their home.

Meanwhile, Edge sat on a chair watching a talk show. His focus on the small television was total. Then a shampoo commercial came on and Jezz spoke.

“The molten spank, sensei?” said Jezz, her voice raw. “That wasn’t necessary!”

“As usual, apprentice,” said Edge, “you miss the most important aspect of what occurred.”

“What I miss, Master,” said Jezz, “is the ability to sit in a normal fashion. But what is it I’m missing about the embarrassing spanking I received?”

“The fact that it gave me several hours of blissful peace, apprentice,” said Edge. And then, as the commercial had ended, he turned back to his talk show.

Jezz opened her mouth to retort, but went silent when she realized his show was back on. One did not interrupt the master when his talk shows were on.

She moved to her feet in one motion, determined not to let Edge see how stiff she was. Or how aroused she still was. Only her extreme athleticism allowed to move as smoothly as she did. She began doing some light stretches in an effort to alleviate the muscle stiffness and to distract herself from her still ongoing personal heat.

Edge suddenly spoke. “There is someone by the front door.”

“What?” said Jezz. “I’m closer to the door than you are. Nobody’s knocked.”

His eyes still on the television, Edge said, “I said by the front door, not at the front door. They have been there for eighty-two minutes. Or for the space of thirteen of your girl climaxes, if you prefer.”

Jezz opened her mouth to retort, but realized Edge had completely re-engaged with his show. She closed her mouth, exhaled and then walked to the front door. Without preamble, she grabbed the doorknob and swung the door open.

Standing in front of the door was the nondescript man she knew only as Mr. Garage. He was dressed in his usual well-made but unremarkable suit and an unreadable expression on his unremarkable features. He appeared to be working on a bag of sunflower seeds.

“It’s you,” said Jezz in a flat tone. “Of course it’s you. Any particular reason you’re skulking around my front door instead of knocking?”

“There’s an art to skulking, Legs,” said Mr. Garage. “If I were truly skulking, you wouldn’t have known I was here.”

“Of course we knew you were here,” said Jezz. “You’ve been standing out here for eighty-two minutes.”

Edge’s voice sounded from inside. “The space of thirteen female climaxes.”

Mr. Garage looked at Jezz. Through clenched teeth, she said, “No idea what he’s talking about. What do you want?”

“To discuss the metaphysical elements involved in adding ketchup to macaroni and cheese.”

Jezz blinked. “What?”

Mr. Garage said, “I’m here about a job. Why else would I visit your lovely abode?”

Jezz gave Garage a look, then turned away and walked back inside, leaving the door open for Garage to enter. She said over her shoulder, “Keep the noise down. Edge is watching his talk shows.”

Mr. Garage followed Jezz into the very garage he had used to create his working alias. He closed the door behind him and looked around until he found what he was looking for. He walked over to the empty swivel chair and sat down.

Jezz rolled her eyes. Then she walked over to the same area as Garage, but she remained standing.

Garage had what looked to be an amused expression on his impossible-to-read features. “Don’t you want to sit down for our little tête-à-tête?”

“I’m fine,” said Jezz, cutting a brief glare at Edge. “What do you want?”

“You’re certainly in a surly mood,” said Garage, “but fine. Let’s cut to the chase. I want to hire you for a job.”

“Shocking.”

“I know,” said Garage, “but you do get results sometimes, so I figured I give it a shot.”

“Yeah, funny,” said Jezz. “How about some details?”

“You got it, Legs,” said Garage.

Jezz sighed. “Garage, I’ve told you before not to call me that.”

Mr. Garage smiled. Then he turned to Edge and said, “Hey…is that The Casefiles of Underground Hypnotist Dr. X?”

A commercial had started, so Edge granted Mr. Garage an answer. “It is.”

“Interesting character, that Dr. X,” said Mr. Garage.

Edge nodded and said, “Indeed.” He was obviously pleased with Mr. Garage recognizing greatness as personified by Dr. X, something he hadn’t expected from the man who identified himself as an exterior storage space and car parking area.

“Nice guy, actually,” continued Mr. Garage. “Pretty stiff and formal, but professional.”

Jezz’s eyes widened as Edge turned away from the television, even though there was no commercial. She had never seen that before.

Edge said, “You have met Dr. X? Personally?”

“Sure,” said Mr. Garage. “I even know his real name.”

Edge said, “You know the true name of Dr. X?”

“Yep,” said Mr. Garage, popping a sunflower seed.

Jezz rolled her eyes and said, “Enough chat, Garage. Details.”

Mr. Garage twirled around in the swivel chair once. Then he said, “All right, are you familiar with the talk show called The Meta Power Hour?”

“What the hell is it with talk shows today?” said Jezz. “Yeah, I’ve heard of it. Newer show, right? The hostess is a whack-job who thinks she’s a prophet or something?”

“She thinks she’s a messiah,” said Garage, popping another sunflower seed. “Some sort of spiritual leader.”

Jezz shrugged. “A religious nut. So?”

Garage said, “The problem is that she’s very popular. Too popular. The show’s only been around for a couple months, but she’s gathering followers by the buttload.”

Jezz said, “Who was she before she became a talk show slash messiah?”

“I’d give my favorite swivel chair to get that piece of information,” said Garage. “Every time I’ve sent in an agent, they manage one or two reports. But as soon as they speak with the Meta, the reports stop and I get a message that they’ve found their calling and they’re joining the Meta movement.”

Jezz shook her head. “People like that don’t just show up out of the blue.”

“Brilliant analysis, Legs,” said Garage. “She’s attractive, charismatic and seemingly quite powerful. Even without knowing her name, how does someone like that stay off the radar?”

“Does she ever say anything about her past on the show?”

“No,” said Garage. “Her PR people say she has no memory of anything before becoming the Meta. They claim she doesn’t even remember the name she was born with. She goes by Evangelina Morningdew now.”

Jezz snorted. “Sounds like they carried a big shovel to that press interview.”

Garage popped a sunflower seed and shrugged. “It worked. Morningdew’s followers are convinced she was born a week or so before the show debuted. I want to call them ‘gullible’, but it doesn’t fit. And I know my agents didn’t have strong religious leanings, but even they apparently bought into this bullshit. Therefore, survey says…”

Jezz sighed and said, “Mind-control”.

“Got it in one.”

“What’s the plan?”

“Well, there’s the catch,” said Mr. Garage. “We tried to get you tickets to attend, but every seat for every show is sold out for the next six months. Working through a number of cutouts, however, we were able to present your teacher Edge as a wandering master of philosophy. You, of course, will be going with him as his humble, docile disciple. They felt it would be an excellent addition to their ‘comparative philosophies’ show filming this week. Because it’s a sudden addition, you have to go in immediately—meaning tomorrow—to get vetted. It’s just a cover story to get you into the office and next to the Meta, so you don’t need to worry about appearing on television. It doesn’t give you much time to prepare, though.”

Jezz sighed. “All right. Let’s assume it’s a cult and go from there. What’s the job?”

“Go in and find out what’s going on. Get my agents back if you can. Try to leave something standing.”

“The pay?”

Mr. Garage popped a sunflower seed, then named a figure.

Jezz said, “You’d have to pay me more than that to get me to even watch the show.”

Without changing expression, Garage popped another sunflower seed and named another figure.

Jezz stared back politely.

Mr. Garage almost smiled. Almost. “That,” he said, “and I’ll introduce the old guy to Dr. X.”

Jezz opened her mouth to refuse, then noticed Edge staring significantly at her still-smoldering bottom. She sighed, then took one of Garage’s sunflower seeds and popped it into her mouth. “Deal.”

“Sounds like a plan,” said Mr. Garage, getting to his feet. He gave Jezz a nod and started toward the door. Then he stopped halfway and turned to Edge.

“By the way,” said Garage, “I only counted eleven.”

Without looking away from the television, Edge said, “The third and fourth ran together, as did the ninth and tenth. They were mountables.”

Garage said, “You mean multiples.”

Edge said, “Multiple mountains of female orgasms, yes. Once you turn on her soft body, she is impossible to turn off.”

Garage maintained an unreadable expression as he exited through the door.

They arrived at the Meta Power Hour offices early the following morning. They were escorted to the producer’s office by a woman named Celeste, who identified herself as the producer’s assistant.

“Seraphina’s in a meeting right now,” said Celeste, her clipped consonants giving her words rigid definition. “She’ll be finished shortly. You may wait for her here. Don’t touch anything.”

Moments later she was gone.

“Nice lady,” said Jezz. “Except for when she talks.”

They sat in silence for several minutes. Then the door opened and four women entered.

The first woman in the office was the brown-haired, efficient Celeste. She was followed by what appeared to be an equally efficient blonde. Then a redheaded woman entered as well, exhibiting the same economy-of-motion movement displayed by the other two.

Then Seraphina entered.

At least Jezz assumed it was Seraphina. Well over six feet tall, with long black hair and terse body language, she had ‘BOSS’ written all over her, likely in several languages and probably even some local dialects. She appeared to be in her 40s and moved like a predator. Her tight leather leggings were tucked into knee-high stiletto boots. It was an intense look, but she wore it like a military uniform.

Seraphina walked behind her desk and sat down. Then she looked at Edge. “You’re early,” she said. “Good. I’m Seraphina. I’m the producer. My assistants here are Celeste, Jannah and Neveah.”

Jezz looked over the trio. They didn’t quite click their heels.

Seraphina gave Jezz a bored look. “You have a problem with my assistants, young lady?”

Jezz started, then cursed herself. She thought she had been subtle in her surveillance, but Seraphina had caught it. Jezz made a mental note to remember that the producer was far more attentive than she might seem.

“No problem at all,” said Jezz. “They just seem to carry themselves in a very crisp manner.”

Seraphina was silent for a moment, as if she were assessing. “Good,” she said finally. “I don’t have a problem with them either. But I’m glad they meet with your approval.”

Jezz raised her eyebrows. “Good thing we had a chance to work this out.”

Edge cut in then. “You should be silent now, apprentice,” he said. “Adults are speaking.”

Seraphina turned to Edge. “I think your student needs a bit of polish, Mister Edge.”

“You are incorrect,” said Edge.

“Oh, really?” said Seraphina, her voice dripping with irony.

“Yes, indeed,” said Edge. “She is not in need of a bit of polish. She requires a great deal of polish. And more.”

Seraphina almost smiled. “I see that.”

“You see nothing,” said Edge, “but be assured her abrasive nature is the least of her failings. I have tried to fill her with knowledge and wisdom, but even I am unable to make diamonds from mud.”

“Sorry to hear that,” said Seraphina. “Now, what you’ll be doin—“

“And that is to say nothing of her failure to comprehend even the least of my teachings. And have you noticed her soft bottom? It is like teaching a beautiful concerto to the deaf.”

“Right,” said Seraphina. “Bad student. Got it. You want to be on the show or not?”

The reminder of the possibility of appearing on a talk show transformed Edge into instant peaches and cream. “Your wisdom, unlike that of my student, shines most brightly. You have obviously been trained well, as you are able to recognize greatness when it sits before you.”

“I’m thrilled,” said Seraphina dryly. “I believe you were recommended for the comparative philosophies episode showing in a couple days.”

Jezz interjected before Edge could reply. “Yeah, that’s right.”

Seraphina gave Jezz an amused look. “Can’t wait for you to meet the Meta. Maybe she’ll have more of an impact on you than your teacher has managed.”

Jezz nodded and tried to look contrite. “Perhaps. I am a rampant failure in many ways, but I do try to be an attentive student.”

Seraphina rolled her eyes. “You’re piling it on too thick, missy, but whatever. Give Celeste your names and contact information. We’ll call you with the details.”

“Cool,” said Jezz.

Edge said, “Do you know the philosopher Kip Klinger?”

“Crazy Kip?” said Seraphina. “Yeah, we’ve met. Why?”

Edge brightened. “Perhaps he would like to participate in the show at that time as well.”

“Yeah, sure,” said Seraphina. “I’ll give him a call and tell him to come on over to his competitor’s show for a nice little sit chat. I bet he’ll jump at the chance.”

Edge beamed. “Excellent!” He turned to Jezz. “See, apprentice? This is what competence looks like.”

Jezz rolled her eyes. “Yes, sensei.”

They left the office escorted by Neveah.

“Being here in the Meta’s studio is such an incredible experience,” said Jezz. “Wouldn’t you agree, sensei?”

Edge beamed. “Indeed, apprentice. It is commendable that you are able to recognize the sanctity of such a temple.”

“A compliment, sensei? What an amazing thing.”

Edge nodded. “Sometimes you are able to retain wisdom. When you do, it always surprises me.”

“I see,” said Jezz dryly. “At any rate, wouldn’t it be a cool thing to see even more of this, um, temple?”

“Indeed, apprentice,” said Edge. “To experience more of such a shrine would be a fine thing indeed.”

Jezz turned to their escort. “Did you hear that, Neveah? My sensei would like to see more of this sanctuary. Perhaps we could look around?”

The redhead was walking two steps in front of them. Without turning, she said, “Your enthusiasm is noted, but we do not allow visitors to wander the premises.”

“Why?” said Jezz. “Do you fear that those less pure than yourselves will somehow desecrate the place or something?”

“No,” said Neveah. “Insurance regulations.”

“Oh,” said Jezz. “Well, I need to use the bathroom.”

Neveah said, “I’ll recommend some places where you can stop when you go through the gate on the way out.”

Edge reached up and lightly struck a cluster of nerves at the base of Neveah’s neck. The redhead dropped without a sound.

“You talk too much, apprentice,” said Edge. “Do what is required. I will remain here to observe this one.”

“What if she wakes up?”

“Don’t be insulting, apprentice.”

“Sorry, sensei.”

“Do not be sorry, Jezabel. Imperfection is its own disgrace. But should this one awake, I will tell her she passed out and you went to get help. But that will be required only if you continue to stand there yapping in a dog-like manner.”

Jezz grinned, then turned and headed down a side hallway.

After a few false turns, Jezz found herself in the studio.

There were a number of people moving about, shifting furniture and adjusting lights. There was a low buzz of activity and Jezz surmised they were preparing for the day’s show. Not wanting to draw attention to herself, Jezz slipped out another door and continued down the hall until, after a turn, she found herself in front a door with a sign on it, stating, ‘PRODUCTION CONTROL ROOM. AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.’

Jezz started to reach for the doorknob, then stopped when she realized there was a digital number pad directly above it. Jezz turned away to find another entry when her sensitive hearing picked up the sound of the studio door closing. One quick glance around the corner confirmed Jezz’s suspicion.

Seraphina was approaching, accompanied by Celeste and Jannah.

Jezz glanced around quickly, but that only confirmed what she already knew. Seraphina and her assistants hadn’t seen Jezz yet, but they would soon. There was no place for Jezz to hide. They would have to pass directly by Jezz to get to the control room door.

Jezz stood with her back to the wall. She exhaled, then slowed her breathing to a near stop. She blanked her mind and watched through half-lidded eyes in complete detachment as she diminished the impact of her presence to nothing, blending herself into the environment.

Seconds later, Seraphina and her assistants turned the corner.

Seraphina appeared irritated. “Where the hell is Neveah? She should have come right back after seeing that brat and her teacher out the door.”

Celeste checked her phone. “I’m not sure, ma’am. She hasn’t answered my text yet.”

Jezz watched, unaffected, making no more impact on her surroundings than the potted plant she stood near. Seraphina passed by her without stopping. Jannah’s gaze passed over Jezz without recognition.

Seraphina stopped and tapped a quick pattern over the number pad. There was a click. The producer turned the knob and opened the door. She entered he production room, followed by Celeste and Jannah.

Jezz’s eyes came back into focus and she moved to the door, catching it just before it clicked shut. She waited several seconds, giving Seraphina and her assistants time to move further away. Finally she eased open the door. Moments later she was inside the production room.

A bank of video monitors covered nearly an entire wall. Numerous control panels and video equipment faced the monitors, an ocean of technology. Different screens were flickering and the murmur of voices could be heard. This appeared to be the heart of the technical production of The Meta Power Hour.

Jezz remained in the back, keeping her presence dimmed enough so that she made no imprint on anyone in the room. It required her keeping herself detached, taking in visual and auditory data like a sponge, releasing nothing into the environment.

Several minutes passed. A door on the far side of the room opened. Seraphina and her assistants walked in, accompanied by a luminescent blonde.

They would have to pass close by Jezz to exit the room. Jezz pressed against the back wall and let her presence once again blend fully into her surroundings.

Seraphina’s stiletto boots clicked the floor as she led the group toward the door. “Don’t worry, Evangelina,” she said. “Everything’s set. You just do what you need to do and we’ll take care of the rest.”

The luminescent blonde appeared to be in her late twenties. She walked gracefully, her light blue dress swirling inoffensively as she followed Seraphina. Her lush golden locks hovered about her beatific features and her clear blue eyes were large and innocent. She wore a glittering tiara, an accessory that should have looked ridiculous in the setting—in any setting outside a prom dance, really—but it worked in this instance. A bright aura seemed to emanate from her, a glowing ambience that moved with her across the room.

“You comfort me, Seraphina,” said Evangelina. “Your presence is a salve.”

A part of Jezz’s mind, a part buried deep behind the wall of detachment, noted that she would have rolled her eyes had she been an active part of her surroundings.

Seraphina strode past Jezz, her eyes crossing over Jezz without stopping. “Thank you, Evangelina. It’s my job to help.”

Celeste passed by Jezz, and then Jannah as well. Evangelina passed Jezz also, but then stopped and turned.

“Who is this,” asked Evangelina, “and why is she trying so hard to not be noticed?”

Seraphina stopped and turned. “What are you talking about?”

The producer and her assistants stopped and turned. Their faces remained enquiring for a moment. Then they locked onto Jezz. Their eyes widened simultaneously.

“You!” said Celeste. The brown-haired assistant immediately dropped into a martial-arts fighting stance. Jannah darted toward Jezz, her hand flitting out to grab a wrist.

But not fast enough. Even as Jezz’s eyes cleared, her forearm was moving faster than thought, sweeping away Jannah’s reaching fingers.

Jannah’s eyes registered momentary shock. Then she recovered and took an aggressive stance. Celeste moved closer, her eyes narrowed. The room tension spiked at the sudden possibility of physical violence.

“Knock it off!” said Seraphina, suddenly in the middle of the potential combatants. “Not in the presence of the Meta! Have you lost your fucking minds?”

There was complete silence for three heartbeats. Then Celeste dropped her stance, followed by Jannah. Jezz relaxed.

Seraphina gave Jezz a cutting stare. “Well?”

Jezz offered an innocent expression. “Well, what?”

The producer narrowed her eyes and her tight leather creaked as she shifted. Jezz intuited that Seraphina had just refrained from slapping her.

“Cute,” said Seraphina. “What are you doing here?”

Jezz looked around. “I got separated from the tour group,” she said. “I thought this was the souvenir shop.”

Celeste stepped forward, but Seraphina held up a hand.

“You’re not funny,” said Seraphina. “You can tell me now or you can tell me in my office. You’ll end up telling me one way or another. Telling me now will save you some grief. And while you’re at it, maybe you’d like to tell me where Neveah is.”

“I have no idea where Neveah got to,” said Jezz. “She said something about Crazy Kip and her resume and then she was gone. I’m thinking disgruntled ex-employee.”

“You’re adorable,” said Seraphina dryly. Her tone was casual, but her smile was a hard, dangerous thing. “Celeste, Jannah, take her to my office. We’ll deal with her there.”

And then Evangelina was there, her omnipresent glow radiating. She looked up into Jezz’s eyes. “What is muga?”

Seraphina said, “Muga?”

“Yes,” said the luminescent blonde. “She expressed muga when faced with danger. What is muga?”

Jezz raised a curious eyebrow. “I didn’t say muga.”

“No, you didn’t,” said Evangelina. “You expressed it.”

Jezz was quiet for a moment before answering. “Muga is shorthand for an unconscious reaction based on unconscious assessment.”

Evangelina smiled. “Explain, please.”

Jezz shrugged. “It’s an instinctive reaction based on multiple elements that you can’t assess individually in the moment, but happens instantaneously in your mind. If somebody tries to punch you, you don’t consciously attempt to gauge their speed, strength, angle of delivery, stance, potential follow-up or anything else. At the basic level, you instinctively lift your arm to block the blow. That’s a form of muga. The more you develop your muga, though, the better that instantaneous computer is able to react. With the correct training, rather than simply blocking a punch, your body is performing more complicated maneuvers without conscious thought. Instead of simply preventing a punch, you are suddenly launching a counter that started with an aggressive move from your opponent, but ends with your opponent neutralized, all without your conscious participation.”

Evangelina offered an angelic smile, then turned to Seraphina. “Please take her to the studio with us. I want her to be part of today’s presentation.”

Seraphina and Jezz both stared at Evangelina. “What?” they said in unison.

Evangelina lay hand on Jezz’s cheek. “I find her fascinating,” she said. “I want to speak with her.”

Serbian shook her head. “Not a good idea,” she said. “She hasn’t been vetted yet.”

Suddenly a digital song started playing. Everyone looked at each other.

Seraphina sighed. “That’s me.” She took out her cell phone and pressed a button, putting the phone on speaker. “Yeah.”

“Hey, Seraphina, this is Dina from the studio. We have a problem.”

“Well, fix it. I’m busy right now.”

“We’re trying to, but he won’t leave.”

“Who won’t leave?”

“Some old guy. He’s sitting in the guest seat and says he’s supposed to be on the show with Evangelina.”

Seraphina closed her eyes and rubbed her temples.

“Neveah is here,” continued Dina, “but she won’t help. She’s acting really weird, though. She said something about a molten spank or something. And she keeps…well, she’s acting really weird.”

Seraphina shot Jezz a look full of daggers. “All right. Fine. Leave him alone. We’ll be there in a few minutes. Get the other guests in place.”

“Understood.”

Seraphina turned off her phone and looked at the offending device. Then she looked up. “Well, let’s go, people. Time to get ready. Anybody else want to be on the show? Speak up now. I’m sure we still have an inch or two of free stage space.”

“Good afternoon and welcome to The Meta Power Hour, filmed before a live audience in Chrystal Heights and brought to your living rooms direct from our studios. And now, here’s Evangelina Morningdew, the Meta!”

A choir-of-angels soundtrack played as heavy applause sounded, lasting long beyond the traditional polite applause following an introduction. As the music and applause died down, Evangelina began speaking.

“Good afternoon, my friends,” she said, her melodious voice striking the just the right chord. “Welcome to my show. There have been so many wonderful people striving to get my word out to the masses, but today I want to focus on a particular group that has truly risen to the challenge of spreading my message. Today I want to welcome a selection of YouTube streamers who’ve made it their mission to expose the world to my teachings. Please welcome Lars “Rockhead” Adams, Drake “Dr. Dark” Desmond and “Princess” Cyndi Sanders!”

Lars, seated next to Jezz, raised his hand. His dark hair was long and he wore a black concert t-shirt advertising the rock band The Spirals. The sleeves were cut off, revealing his wiry shoulders. On the other side of the man sat Princess Cyndi, a young woman dressed in a flighty arrangement of pink and yellow hues, a magic kingdom princess come to life. She stood and gracefully curtsied in the direction of Evangelina, then toward the audience. Next to her sat Dr. Dark, a black man with a shaved head wearing wraparound sunglasses. He showed no reaction to the introduction.

Evangelina continued. “And I’d also like to welcome a surprise guest as well. Two surprise guests, actually. Please welcome the great philosopher Mister Edge and his student Jezabel.”

The audience clapped politely. Princess Cyndi curtsied in their direction and Lars offered Jezz a high-five, which Jezz ignored.

“We’re expecting a fascinating show today,” said Evangelina, her tiara glittering. A choir-of-angels resonance began sounding. “We’ll be back after these messages.”

The green camera light went red, indicating they were off the air.

The YouTube streamer named Lars turned to Jezz. “Hey, babe. My friends call me Rockhead. You’re totally hawt, so you can call me Rockhead too. In fact, you can just call me.”

Jezz looked at him with thinly-veiled distaste. “Sorry, I’m married, not hungry, gay, infected with 7 unknown diseases, pregnant with lizards and clinically dead.”

“Aw, man,” said Lars. “You could have just said ‘no’. You didn’t have to get all Warren Ellis on me and shit, ya know?”

Jezz stared at him. “Not bad.”

The choir-of-angels soundtrack started playing and the camera light turned back on, preventing any reply.

Evangelina said, “Welcome back, friends, and let’s get started. Tell me, Mr. Rockhead, what is it you do exactly to spread my message?”

“Hi, Evangelina, and man, it’s, like, totally great to be on your show and stuff! I totally spread your message, ’cuz your message is, like, totally rad, y’know? I just do my part to—“

“So tell me, Drake,” said Evangelina, cutting in, “what is it you do to help spread the word?”

Dr. Dark’s sunglasses shifted slightly. When he spoke, his voice was a deep baritone.

“What I do,” he said, “is add a little oomph to keep my viewers, shall we say, enraptured?”

There was silence. Then Evangelina said, “What do you mean?”

“Allow me,” said Dr. Dark, “to give you a, shall we say, demonstration?”

The streamer reached inside his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He pressed a couple buttons and passed his phone to Princess Cyndi.

As Cyndi watched the screen of Drake’s phone, her eyes became glassy. The sounds emanating from the phone made it obvious she was watching an episode of The Meta Power Hour. Her eyes remained glazed as she continued watching the video. Then the choir-of-angels soundtrack sounded from the phone. Cyndi handed the phone to Drake and stood. Her hands moved to her buttons and she began removing her brightly-colored clothing, moving to the rhythm of unheard music. Soon she was barefoot and naked, hips rolling as she took the phone back from Drake and continued to watch the video.

Drake looked at Evangelina. “That’s what I bring to, shall we say, the table?”

Evangelina watched the naked princess continue her oblivious dance. The Meta looked impressed. “Well, Dr. Dark, I must say you’re a skilled communicator. Most impressive.”

Dr. Dark actually smiled. “Thank you, Miss Morningdew. I am here to, shall we say, serve?”

Drake reached over and took his phone back from Cyndi. The streamer princess’s eyes cleared and she glanced around, blinking. Then she squealed as she realized her state of nakedness, her arms crossing over her breasts and hips as she tried to cover her entire body simultaneously. Blushing from head to toe, she grabbed her clothes and dashed off-stage.

Just off-stage, Jezz could hear Seraphina’s voice as she snapped at someone. “Get that guy a contract. I want it in my hands before the next commercial break. Move!”

Evangelina turned her luminous smile toward the camera. “Now, let’s move on to Mister Edge. Mr. Edge, I’d like to thank you for appearing today.”

Edge beamed for the camera. “You display a rare wisdom in requesting my presence.”

Evangelina worked that through her head for a moment, then realized it was a compliment. “Thank you, Mr. Edge. You have been described to me as a wandering philosopher of sorts, an instructor of hidden secrets, a teacher. Would you describe your student Jezebel as a reflection of your instruction?”

Edge sighed. “Avert your gaze. You should not look upon shame.”

Evangelina blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“Her soft body much better serves as a vessel of pleasure than that of a hardened warrior.”

Evangelina blinked again. “I see. But wouldn’t you agree she has skills generally unseen in oth—“

“Her girl heat is most certainly a sun source. Few could best her in that arena.”

“Okay. But her skills—“

“Were you to strike her bulbous rear, the resultant ripples would destroy your furniture.”

“But—“

“Still, my son is not a complete disappointment. At rare times she is able to somehow achieve success. These moments are surely a reflection of me as her teacher, as you in your wisdom have no doubt deduced.”

“Your son? Is he here?”

Edge sighed. “Have you lost your sight? She sits before you.”

“Your son?”

Jezz stared in amazement. To the casual observer, her eyes might have seemed wet.

Edge shook his head in exasperation. “I do not need to repeat myself, young lady. You would almost certainly find it easier to understand my words if you put less effort in your attempts to alter my thoughts.”

There was momentary silence. Then Evangelina said, “Alter your thoughts? I would never—“

“I do not fault you for having ability, young woman. Only for being foolish enough to attempt to use it against me.”

Seraphina’s voice cut in from offstage. “Cut to a commercial. Now.”

The camera light went red.

Seraphina stormed on-stage, followed by five burly security guys. The producer pointed at Edge at Jezz and jerked a thumb toward off-stage. “These two. Out. Right now.”

Edge gazed at Seraphina with polite interest. “I will be most happy to exit this temple, once I have finished speaking with the Morningdew.”

“No,” said Seraphina. “You’re leaving now.”

Jezz got to her feet. “I don’t think you brought enough men with you to make that happen.”

Seraphina sighed. “You really are a pain, you know that? Gentlemen, drag the brat off-stage. Then come back and get the old guy.”

One of the security guys reached for Jezz and then all hell broke loose.

Jezz grabbed the guard’s extended wrist, spun and sent him sailing over her shoulder. He landed on his back with a thud that shook the stage.

The remaining four guards looked at each other, than back at Jezz. They charged.

Lars took out his phone and started videoing. “Hey, this is Rockhead, livestreaming directly from the stage of Evangelina Morningdew, the Meta herself, and I’m here to tell you this scene is wild! The old guy over here was talking and stuff, and then Evangelina was like ‘what?’ and the old guy was like ‘what?’ and then the producer ran out here with the Man and tried to take down the hawt chick and she was like ‘no way’, and now she’s like totally giving it to the Man. Like, wow! Did you see the way she just kicked him in the stomach? Oh, man, she just totally bitch-slapped that other dude. Wow, a throat punch. Total ouch. That’s gotta hurt, man.

“Now the security dudes are like totally pissed and taking out their batons. They’re trying to hit her, but she just keeps ducking. Oh, now she’s going off on them! This is freaking lit, man! Now she’s—”

There was a sudden gasp. Even Rockhead went silent.

Then the deep baritone voice of Dr. Dark—who was also filming—boomed in the silent studio. “That was a, shall we say, very uncomfortable place to put the gentleman’s baton. He’s going to have a hard time walking that off.”

Jezz had just finished beating the three security guards down when Celeste, Jannah and Neveah showed up. Celeste and Jannah dropped into confident, structured stances. Neveah’s eyes were bloodshot and she was moving tenderly, but she too held a strict stance.

“Fine,” said Jezz. “Let’s do this.”

The three assistants moved as one. They struck in unison, but staggered their points of contact. One would dart in just as another stepped back. Ducking from one blow meant risking a blow from another direction. Jezz blocked, twisted and re-directed. She would use one assistant as a momentary meat-shield against the other two, then dive and roll away. She spun, twirled and struck from unexpected angles, but she was starting to get tired. The assistants were very good individually, but together they moved as flawless parts of a whole.

Rockhead was dodging flying furniture and whirling assistants as he continued to livestream the brawl. “Holy cats! I am here to tell you that your live-streaming host has never seen anything like this! There is all kinds of crazy ninja shit going on! Now they’ve picked up the batons from the stage! The hawt chick has a baton in each hand and the hawt security chicks each have one. They’re clacking like crazy! This is like total Bruce Lee stuff, man! Chuck Norris? No freaking way, man. It’s Chick Norris! That’s right, man! I went there!”

Celeste, Jannah and Neveah began a coordinated attack, batons whirling, moving in a grid-like fashion, forcing Jezz back step-by-step.

“Aw, man. Things are looking tough for hawt chick. She’s backing up. The security chicks’ batons are moving so fast, you can barely see ’em, but somehow hawt chick is blocking each one. She looks tired, though. How much can she take?

“Wait a minute…now the old guy is doing something. He just did something…took something away from Evangelina…her tiara! The old guy just took her tiara and now he’s breaking it. Evangelina is screaming at him…wow…I had no idea Evangelina even knew that kind of language…it’s a hostile scene all around…wait a minute…now hawt leather chick who’s in charge looks pissed…she’s not going after the old guy, though…she’s going after Evangelina! It’s another crazy chick brawl! It’s a wrestlemania pay-per-view!

“I never thought I would say this, but your man-in-the-street Rockhead is actually lacking the words to describe this crazy scene! It makes the Jerry Springer show look like a cartoon! Oh, the humanity! Hawt karate chick is now beating the three hawt security chicks. It’s like once Evangelina lost her tiara, they couldn’t keep up with hawt chick anymore. And hawt leather chick is beating Evangelina silly! Someone should call security!”

Drake’s deep baritone responded. “They are all, shall we say, indisposed?”

“Indisposed?” said Rockhead. “Oh, yeah. Hawt karate chick already knocked them out. Except for the guy who got the baton stuck in his—“

“Indisposed,” said Drake.

“Indisposed,” conceded Rockhead. “Moving on. Hawt chick is beating hawt security chicks pretty silly now. Meanwhile, hawt leather chick is beating Evangelina pretty solidly. Wait…Evangelina is trying to rip off hawt leather chick’s top, but hawt leather chick just ripped off Evangelina’s robes. Evangelina is…well, she’s naked as a jaybird now. A hawt, blonde jaybird.

“On the other side of the stage, hawt chick has lost her baton, but disarmed all three hawt security chicks. They’re going at it hammer-and-tongs, but hawt chick is moving like a tremendous machine out there! All three hawt security chicks are down now, but not out. They’re stirring…moving…trying to get up…wait…hawt chick is pointing at the security guard with the baton stuck in his…the guard with the baton issue. All three hawt security chicks are staying down now.

“Meanwhile, on the other side of the stage, hawt leather chick has sat down in one of the chairs, catching her breath. The old guy is doing something with Evangelina. Helping her up or something. Wait…that’s not what he’s doing. He’s…he’s…ummm…he’s…”

Dr. Dark said, “I believe he’s, shall we say, inseminating Evangelina?”

“Well,” said Jezz. “That got crazy. I thought Seraphina was the bad guy, but she was being controlled as well. Hard to believe Evangelina stole Seraphina from Crazy Kip. Even crazier that the bad guy turned out to be Evangelina herself. Church says she has some light ability, but she figured out a way to amplify it with that tiara. She was building quite a following. Church is cleaning up the mess now.”

“A mess indeed,” said Edge. “They are fortunate you left anything standing after your blundering about.”

“Church was happy to get his agents back,” said Jezz. “Celeste, Jannah and Neveah are pretty embarrassed they got taken so easily, but Evangelina was pretty good. And sensitive. She even managed to spot me when I was dimming my presence.”

Edge grunted.

“Oh, come on, Edge,” said Jezz. “I didn’t do that bad.”

“I am ashamed to be known as your teacher. Even the screamers were more adequate than you.”

Jezz blinked. “The what?”

“The screamers.”

Jezz was quiet for a moment. Then she said, “Oh! You mean the YouTube streamers.”

“An odd thing to call one who screams as much as Headrock.”

“Rockhead.”

“He is indeed.”

“You should thank him, sensei. He made you a YouTube star when he filmed you impregnating Evangelina.”

“It is your odd attempts at humor that makes you a hopeless student. Even I cannot make a diamond from mud.”

“Is that any way to talk about your son, sensei?”

“You misunderstood me. I said your girl-heat was a sun-source. And it is.”

Jezz grinned.