“Kit”
by ”URN My Power“
Colonel Brannigan presided over the removal of the debris. He’d done this several times, and by now it had become almost routine. The ship, from the looks of it, was of the kind used for reconnaissance by Species #87512. Once, just once, he’d like to find a live crash victim, so they could study his/her/its physiology. Both of the ship’s occupants had died. The engine was damaged beyond reverse engineering. It always was. It was like they designed them to break in the event of a crash so that other civilizations couldn’t copy it and become spacefaring races. How wise of them. These aliens represented a threat to this world, and would have to be eliminated by any means possible. Colonel Brannigan’s stance was erect and stiff. His inferiors thought he didn’t know that they said that if he stood between two rocks, he’d look like a prick, while the comeback was always “who needs the rocks?". He knew. And they were going to be punished for it.
“Sir!” someone exclaimed. A young sergeant ran up to him, saluted stiffly, and continued. “We found something, sir! Footprints!” Brannigan followed the sergeant to the spot. Two corporals were holding their flashlights on tracks left by a set of boots leaving the site. They were fresh, too. Couldn’t be more than six hours old.
“Well what are you waiting for, Sergeant! Follow them!” Brannigan ordered. “Those tracks are no more than six hours old, and this wreck is at least twenty. He must not inform anyone, is that clear?”
“Crystal, sir!” the sergeant replied, then he quickly assembled a tracking team and took off down the trail.
Kit Hambley looked at his strange new accquisition with curiosity. It resembled a scepter of some kind, with a button on the handle. The head was like a whole bunch of nuts screwed onto the end. From the top it was octogonal, and each side was twice as wide as the handle/base/whatever. From the side, the head was divided into six sections about half an inch thick, completing the several-nuts look, except they weren’t progressively facing more and more in any direction, so they weren’t really screwed on. Kit knew that. On the top of the device was a pair of half-inch prongs, which made him think of a fancy cattle prod. He hadn’t been able to get the thing to work, though. He’d tried pushing the button, but couldn’t get any sort of reaction. Maybe it was broken. He set it in the seat next to him as he started his truck, shifted into first, and headed out. Someone shot out the inner left back tire of his duelie, and he accellerated as fast as he could. Soon he was on the main road, glad his plates had been obscured by the mud he’d had to drive through to get to this place when he’d seen the UFO crash into the woods on his father’s land. He didn’t like the thought of being followed.
Back at home and safe (he hoped), Kit lowered the garage door, went upstairs to his temporary “base of operations,” and proceeded to find out the problem with the thingamajig. After eight hours of exhausting work, he discovered the culprit: it had been banged hard against the bulkhead when the ship had crashed, and the impact had caused a short circuit. Kit knew electronics, so the problem was easily fixed. As soon as the hull of the thing was once again closed, completing the circuit, the head of the thing began to glow. As Kit picked up the handle, knowledge of what the device was and how to use it flowed into his mind like honey. It was a control device, capable of exerting influence over matter and energy. Its power source was the timestream itself, which was self-perpetuating energy, so in effect, he had Earth’s first perpetual motion machine in his hand. It was controlled by the thoughts of the user, and by pushing the button (the reaction having been delayed by the short circuit), one could cause the device to imprint upon the mind of whoever had pushed the button, thereby calibrating it for proper function. The door over the button closed. It would remain imprinted to him as long as the thing could still sense his brainwaves. Since it had a range of twelve light years, that would mean it was his until he died, or until he gave it back to the aliens and they took it beyond the reach of their bond. If he had to lose the thing, he would prefer the latter way. He’d only been living his life for nineteen years, but he was getting used to its simple pleasures, such as breathing and eating and sleeping and... He grinned at the thought of fucking, but he hadn’t gotten any since he was sixteen, and it turned out that the girl had just wanted to pressure him into having his engineer father help take care of the baby. The paternity test had proven false, though, so Kit was off the hook. Still, this thing brought possibilities to his mind.
A figure suddenly crashed through the window and fired off three rounds. Kit panicked, and by the time he’d opened his eyes again, he was gazing in wonder at three bullets hovering in midair. Smoke from the muzzle of the gun hovered just a few inches from the opening, and he could and did count each particle of smoke (there were eight hundred seventy-three). Once he was out of the way of the bullets, he restarted time, and the bullets careened into the back wall. With the device, he levitated his would-be assassin out the window, then dropped him. The device read several hostile minds approaching the house, and relayed this information to Kit, who directed the device to rearrange the molecules in the ceiling, then levitate him out of the room. He closed the roof behind him and levitated to the road, making sure there was a shield around himself. Thousands of bullets bounced off his shield as he descended. He slowed time down so his walking speed was a blur of motion that even The Flash would envy, and he easily avoided the slow-moving bullets. Tired of dodging them, he turned the bullets around to embed themselves in the heads of the men who had fired them. He walked down the road under normal time. A female assassin waited in a tree above him. He forced the gun to remove itself from her grasp, then turned it toward her. If she wanted to live, she’d have to jump. She did, and Kit stopped her descent so she hovered five feet above the ground. The gun fell to the ground, then melted under the power of the scepter. As he approached, she swung at the air with her fists.
“Pitiful looks cute on you.” he told her. Her hair was long and black as pitch. Her body was well-toned and everything, but her breasts were too small for his taste. He diverted some of the muscle cells from her butt into her chest, converted some of the fat she had on her body into more muscle cells, and diverted that there too, until she had increased in bra-size from B to C cups. Then he caused her skin cells to release more melonin to turn her white skin to a deep golden-brown tone. She gazed down at her enlarged breasts and gorgeous tan, and then her eyes went wide in wonder. Kit went on from there, changing her plucked eyebrows to a more natural look, giving her the best manicure she’d ever had, straightening her teeth, removing her braces, tapering her fingers and making her nipples and clit more sensitive, so she would need to get off at least once a day. He also got rid of the follicles on her entire lower body so she didn’t have a single hair below her neck. He also got rid of the hair follicles in her chin and lips so she’d never have to wax again. The chin became more delicately tapered, and the nose became more delicate as well.
“What manner of device is that?” she asked, as Kit caused the sand to melt then freeze into a mirror so she could see her new makeover in all its glory.
“A matter/energy control device I found on the alien ship.” he said. “Works pretty good, doesn’t it? I managed to reshape your body to my taste, and I can do the same to your mind without you even realizing it.”
“That sort of device cannot be allowed to fall into civilian hands!” she replied.
“Too late.” Kit said. “I found it, I made it work, and I’m keeping it, unless the aliens come back for it.”
“But it could possibly be the ultimate weapon, more powerful than even the H-bomb!”
“Could? Honey, it IS the ultimate weapon. I can control matter, energy and even time with this thing. Besides, it won’t respond to anyone else. It’s imprinted, and it stays that way until it can no longer sense my mind.”
“Don’t call me ‘honey!’ My name is Sylvia Payne, and I am an agent of the US Special Forces!” she snarled. Kit froze her with the scepter. She couldn’t move, but she could still think. Through the device, Kit could hear her murderous thoughts, feel her rage. He was quite frankly getting tired of it. He checked around for other minds. Finding none, he focussed the power of the alien scepter on Sylvia.
He turned her hatred of him into love, changed her sense of duty so she felt she needed to defend him, not the United States, made her totally loyal and obedient, altered her morals so that disobedience to her Master (namely him) was worse than killing the President and her Master’s will was the guideline by which she would determine right and wrong for the rest of her life. He added that she existed for the sole purpose of serving and pleasing her Master, that she would always call him Master, but would speak only when he spoke to her. Finally he let her down. At his command, she removed her clothes right there in the middle of the road, got down on her hands and knees, and let her Master explore her body. She wasn’t a virgin, but she wasn’t married. That much he knew from her memories. His penis invaded her hot, well-lubricated pussy. It had been too long since his last orgasm. He didn’t last long, but his new slave made him hard again very quickly. The second time, he spanked her ass with each thrust, and she came each time he spanked her. She was dripping all over her clothes, but neither of them cared. Sylvia was going to be a good slave. Time was frozen throughout the entire fuck, and this was fortunate, for Kit could see the headlights of an approaching truck over the crest of the hill. Finally, they lay exhausted on the warm asphalt. There was a certain thrill to making love out here in the open, even though time was stopped. He reformed their clothes around them after they had rested, and his slave fell into step behind him as he returned to the house, repaired and reinflated the damaged tire of his truck with the scepter, and then drove away with her.
Kylie Ende watched the strange young man and his well-muscled female attendant with interest. The thing in his hand looked expensive. Maybe if she could steal it, Stitches might let her off the hook. She was tired of risking capture by the police. She needed a way to end her debt to him once and for all. She darted out of the shadows to grab the thing, but his attendant was lightning-quick, and only Kylie’s street-honed reflexes saved her life. The woman was well-trained, and was going for a quick kill. Kylie managed to keep the fight going for half a minute before a clout to the head sent her sprawling. The woman was about to make the lethal blow, but Kylie’s limbs would not respond to her mind’s commands. She realized that the woman had given her one of those paralyzing attacks! She’d be crippled for life!
“No, Sylvia, don’t kill her.” the man said.
“Sorry, Master.” Sylvia said, bowing her head submissively and backing down.
“Master?” Kylie asked.
“Yes. I am her master. Her life, her mind and her body belong to me.” he said. “I admire your courage, your determination, and the fact that you managed to survive thirty seconds with Sylvia.” he continued. “Let me help you.” He pointed the scepter-thing at her, and her paralysis left. Kylie got up then was instantly on her knees, hugging the man’s hips and thanking him with all her heart. Suddenly, she felt herself leaping to her feet and snapping to rigid attention. The man was looking her over appreciatively. With a little help from the scepter, her body fat became muscle- and breast-enhancements. She felt her face alter. Her body hair migrated and lengthened the hair on her scalp. She felt very naughty with her bare pussy rubbing against her lace panties. She was getting very aroused.
“You’re controlling my body aren’t you? Making these changes and everything?” she asked.
“Good girl.” the man replied. “Why don’t you tell me your name so I don’t have to go through your mind to find out.”
“Kylie.” she replied. She felt her face altering, becoming softer, smoother, more...feminine. After that, she felt something dive into her mind. Loyalty, love, obedience, new morals, submissiveness, all this and more flowed into Kylie’s mind, and soon she was soon a whole new person. She felt Sylvia’s combat-training flow into her mind so she would better be able to protect her Master. Her clothing seemed to pull itself off of her body. Her Master leaned her against the wall, dropped his pants, and fucked her right out in front of everyone. The scepter transfixed the onlookers so they could not move or report this. He seemed to enjoy the fact that all these observers embarassed Kylie. Her Master added to the humiliation by causing bits of metal to fly off of the street sign and metamorphose into shackles, binding her, allowing him to fuck her ass. The humiliation combined with the sensations flowing through her body to drive her emotions completely bonkers. She was getting off on being humiliated! Sylvia had by this time stripped herself and was servicing Kylie’s breasts, and Kylie, in her current mental state, would have returned the breast-service if it weren’t for the fact that her hands were bound. In her fuck-frenzy, she started licking the woman’s breasts, and the woman responded by pulling her face into the valley between them while their Master continued fucking her ass, but now he was rubbing her clit simultaneously. When he came, the orgasm shot through the scepter, causing all the onlookers and the two slaves to come as well. Kylie lay there for a while, under orders from her Master to eat Sylvia out while he took care of business in the bakery. Sylvia had never been more embarassed, but at the same time aroused. Her humiliation was causing her cunt to drip. She gave them a show, doing the best she could to make her co-slave moan as loud as she could. She licked and nibbled at Sylvia’s clit, shoved her tongue in as deep as it would go, then rolled it around in there. Finally Sylvia couldn’t stand it anymore. She forced Kylie onto her back and they were quickly engaging in a lusty 69. They came many times before their Master returned and saw the scene. He stopped them, returned their clothing to their bodies, then surveyed the watching crowd. Finding no one he liked, the trio moved on. Kylie still had Sylvia’s cunt-juices on her chin, but she didn’t have the metal bonds. As soon as they rounded the corner, their Master released the crowd and blocked the memory of the incident from their minds. Kylie was disappointed. She wanted to show off how obedient she was for the whole world. She wanted the whole world to see her serving her Master. She wanted him to humiliate her in front of the whole galaxy. They sat down on a bench in the park, and Master handed them each three chocolate-covered pastries (a donut, a bear-claw and a twisty-thing whose name Kylie had never bothered to learn). The chocolate helped calm her down some, and had the same effect on Sylvia. When they finished, Sylvia licked the remaining cunt-juice from her co-slave’s chin. For the first time in her life, Kylie felt like she’d been accepted into a group. She felt happy that her Master had made her his. Joy overflowed in her as she glanced to the side and saw her Master smiling in satisfaction at his slaves.
“He’s got what?” Brannigan asked.
“Some kind of weird alien scepter, sir, with capabilities unlike any I’ve ever seen before.” the spy-satellite-communications officer replied.
“That scepter must be procured at all costs.” Brannigan said. “Did you get an ID on the civilian?”
“Kit Hambley, sir, he works at an auto shop in Palestine, Texas that he inherited from his father. At the time of the crash, he was vacationing in his grandfather’s summer cabin, but since the attempted sanction, he hasn’t returned.”
“Why should he? He knows he’s in danger there.” Brannigan replied.
“He’s captured Agent Payne, and seems to have taken control of her mind.”
“Then we can no longer count on her loyalty.” Brannigan said quietly. “Sanction her as well.”
Kit had learned a lot from Sylvia’s mind. She had been part of an armed group known as Section Omega, culled from the best of the Armed Forces whose job was to protect the nation from all threats—internal and external. They were called for in a document called the Constitutional Supplement, signed by two-fifths of the Constitutional Convention delegates, including George Washington and Thomas Jefferson, as a measure of protection against foreign invaders, as a storehouse for the TRUE history of the world as best it could be determined from facts available, et cetera, ad nauseam. They were independent of the visible government and the administration of any one group of leaders. They followed the charter, and those in leadership positions had to make their decisions based on that charter, although the interpretation was up to the General. The original Section Omega consisted of veterans of the Revolutionary War between the ages of sixteen and eighteen, who were trained by ninja brought to America by the leadership. Once their training had been completed, Section Omega had begun operating in earnest as a covert manipulator of events. The thought made Kit shiver. They were definitely going to try to take the scepter from him, and when they found out that they couldn’t use it until the device could no longer sense his thought waves, they would do their darnedest kill him. They would also kill him if they learned that he had given it back to the aliens, and he would not have the scepter to defend himself with.
Kit extended the senses of the device, and discovered that a shipful of the aliens to whom the scepter belonged were coming to Earth to recover it.
(Who are you?) asked one of the aliens, who was also holding a scepter.
My name is Kit Hambley. I found a powerful scepter among the wreckage of a ship in the woods near my grandfather’s summer house, and an autonomous group of millitants is trying to kill me for it. If it wasn’t for the sheer power of this scepter, I’d be dead by now.
(I can see from the contents of your mind that you are more peaceable than other specimens from your race that we have studied. I see too that you recognize the danger to yourself if you return the scepter to us. Because you seem quite capable of controlling the scepter without corrupting it, we are prepared to offer you and your charges assylum with us.) The alien went on to give him instructions on how to rendevous with them.
Captain Amos Ritticker spied the three figures in the clearing through his binoculars. With the amount of things they had with them, they seemed to be prepared for quite a lengthy campout. A fire was blazing, tents were pitched, and the scepter was lying at the young man’s feet. Just as the strike team was getting into position, the scepter suddenly leaped into the young man’s hand, and there was a shield around the clearing. Captain Ritticker swore under his breath, then ordered the artillery to move in.
Kit and his women huddled together in the midst of the force field, as heavy artillery pounded it from outside. Phrases like “if they can’t have it, then no one will” and “whom the gods would destroy they first make mad” flittered through his head. The aliens signaled that it was time for the rendevous, so Kit focussed the power of the scepter, slowing and finally stopping time, except for a tunnel of normal time directly above him, which he could sense that the aliens were following. A ship decloaked overhead, and the front of it melted, forming into twenty steps that simply hovered at a forty-five degree angle to the ground. Kit had the women go up first, so they would be safe if he lost his concentration and accidentally restarted time, then he followed them. Once he was solidly inside the ship, the stairs returned to liquid state and once again became the hull of the ship.
“Cool.” he muttered.
“Would you like me to adjust the temperature?” a liquidly melodic voice asked.
“No. I was just using a colloquialism.” Kit explained.
“Ah.” the alien replied. “I am K’rosh, the captain of this vessel.”
“And the one with whom I spoke twelve hours ago.” Kit said. K’rosh nodded, lifting his own scepter in confirmation. The women were staring raptly at the viewscreen as the ship ascended. Remembering his actions earlier, he restarted time. They rounded the moon and departed in a direction perpendicular to the disc formed by the planetary orbits. The stars began to whiz by at a rate of about a million a minute, and eventually they reached one planet in particular. It looked as if it had never known the stink of an internal combustion engine.
“Welcome to Kraffrey.” K’rosh said.
Kit’s pleasure was being heightened by Kylie’s enjoyment of his ministrations as he penetrated her from behind. Kylie’s enjoyment was being maximized by the pleasure-looping device on her forehead. She milked his penis dry as he continued to fuck her, despite the slight swelling in her belly from their unborn child. Sylvia slept peacefully on her side, her hand resting on her own protruding belly. Kit, exhausted after repeated orgasms, lay down on the floor. Kylie was still crying out. Her pleasure was too overwhelming even to beg for him to let her stop coming. He touched the blue triangle on the device on her forehead, and she slowly began to calm down, then finally collapsed in a heap. Kylie went to sleep, and Kit stroked her hair for a few minutes before falling asleep himself. They had to be fresh in the morning for the meeting with the Terran Observation Board tomorrow.