The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Samba followed Rebecca out of The Pink Sakura and into the parking lot. A light fog had rolled in from the Infinite Bay. Thankfully, it wasn’t so thick that Samba couldn’t admire the wagging ass in front of her. Rebecca looked good nearly naked, but with her suit on, she looked much more like Samba’s type.

Maybe Samba had just hung around too many clients at the strip club.

Samba enjoyed the view, and with the way Rebecca was rolling her hips to wiggle her ass, she knew that Rebecca wanted her to watch. The moment was short lived as Rebecca stopped next to the driver side of a silver hatchback. The car was a newer model, definitely, though that was about all Samba could discern from it.

Samba walked to the passenger door and waited to hear the click of it unlocking. She took her seat in the car and kicked off her heels, wriggling her toes against the oddly comfortable floor mat. She took a few seconds to look around. The last car she had been in was Imprint’s, which was easily more expensive, but Rebecca’s felt much more welcoming. It smelled a bit of her, like she spent a lot of time in it.

“Done looking around?” Rebecca said as she started the car.

“Sorry. I don’t own a car myself. I always walk or, well, take a bus.” Samba wasn’t sure how to proceed. She could jump right into it and start asking for advice and help, or she could actually try to get to know this woman first.

As they pulled out of the parking lot, Rebecca could see the strain on Samba’s face. “Just ask what you want to. Scar-sensei told me to make this night unforgettable, so I’m going to make you feel as good and relaxed as possible.”

“Well, then how did you, rather, why do you act like that with Scar. She’s—”

“Scar-sensei,” Rebecca interrupted.

“What?”

“Address her with respect. She’s Scar-sensei.”

“I...? O-Okay?”

“You’ll be calling her it soon enough, you might as well get used to it.”

Samba tried not to look too disbelieving. “Well, why do you act like that around Scar-sensei then?”

“Because she’s amazing. She knows so much, and I want to learn everything from her. I need to serve her and show her that I am worthy of her attention.” They came to a stop light, and Rebecca used it as an opportunity to look Samba in the eyes. “You’ll understand the pleasures. I can show you a little of what she’s taught me, and you’ll understand why I’m so dedicated to her. You’ll wind up on your knees in front of her just like me.”

“But my friend said you used to be the one that controlled others. Like that you could play with their minds and stuff. Why would you go from doing that to serving so, well, submissively?”

“I simply met someone stronger and greater than me. That’s all. There’s always a bigger fish out there.” The light switched to green, and the car started moving again. Rebecca stopped looking at Samba. “You’ve met someone bigger than you, haven’t you?”

Samba blinked a few times. “I wish,” she said without thinking it through. If someone could control her power or help her channel it, maybe she wouldn’t find herself in a different girl’s apartment every few nights.

Rebecca grinned. “You spend a lot of time with a lot of girls, don’t you?”

“Uh,” said Samba, mouth open.

“I’m a psychic, Samba. I try not to listen in to those around me, but some things are just too . . . loud not to hear. And it’s okay, at your age I terrorized the ICU basketb . . . .” Rebecca stopped abruptly and went slightly red.

Samba stared at the road and tried to think quiet thoughts.

They saw a short line of cars halted up ahead.

“Orbweaver roadblock,” said Rebecca. “They’re still doing them to search for drugs, but it’s a dog-and-pony show now. . . . Hold on a second.”

Rebecca rolled down the window, leaned out, and waved at a stressed looking young officer. He came running over.

“Ma’am, please just wait in line. The dogs will only take a moment.”

Rebecca’s voice suddenly lost the high-pitched tone that she’d been speaking with since Samba met her. “Lead Detective McCandliss, SIU.”

The patrolman looked at the ID card Rebecca held out through the window and then up at her. His eyes flicked for a moment across Samba but didn’t linger.

“Sorry, Detective, just pull around and go through.”

“Thanks . . . Officer Murphy,” said Rebecca, peering at the officer’s badge and grinning. “I’ll give you a good write-up when you apply for detective.”

The patrolman laughed and waved as Rebecca pulled out. As they pulled down the block and around the corner, a small tremor ran through Rebecca’s hips, and she clenched her thighs. Samba heard her whisper softly, “Hail the Kage.”

“Who’s the Kage?”

Rebecca’s eyes shot up for a moment and then she recovered herself, “The Kage is the biggest fish of all.”

“And your voice? It changed when you spoke to the officer.”

Rebecca’s mouth opened and shut, and she squirmed her hips lightly against the seat leather, “I sound how Scar-sensei wishes me to sound. I look how Scar-sensei wishes me to look. I do what Scar-sensei orders me to do. I obey Scar-sensei.”

Rebecca’s eyes glazed, and she seemed to be driving through the narrow streets almost on auto-pilot.

“What kind of things does she, um, Scar-sensei, order you to do?”

“You’ve seen them. I’m her personal toy. Her favorite. She likes humiliating and using me the most, and I love it the most out of all of her slaves.”

“I see. She doesn’t make you use your power to help her out? I mean, why bother taking me to your apartment and seducing me into it if you can do what my friend said you could?” Things were starting to get interesting. Scar was probably very intense. Pure dominatrix to her heart. She controlled people not to make them do things to please her, but because the act of controlling probably gave her a rush.

“No. I’m forbidden from releasing my powers while under Scar-sensei’s control.”

Samba tried her best to fit all the pieces together. She didn’t have Rebecca’s background as a detective. She hardly had two years of college under her belt. Still, it was obvious that Rebecca’s abilities were at least hard for Scar to control. Maybe Scar couldn’t control them, and it required this Kage person.

“I have a pretty interesting power too,” Samba said.

“I know. Anyone with any telepathic ability knows. You’re always thinking about it to some degree. I’m sure people without telepathy can figure it out pretty quick when they see how anxious you are.”

Samba averted her eyes. How blunt. “Not even curious as to what it is?”

“I’ll find out later. You admitted yourself you want to be controlled.”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“It is. I could tell you were relieved at the idea that someone could take charge. I bet it’s why you came looking for me originally. Really, it’s alright. You’re very pretty, I’m sure Scar-sensei will take care of you.”

Samba felt her heart speed up. She would love it, really, if she could lose control safely. Just for a bit. If someone could help her out with controlling her power, she wouldn’t have to deal with all these stresses. A lump formed in her throat that she couldn’t swallow.

“You really are easy to read. I can tell you’re horny right now.”

Samba’s breathing quickened.

“No one can blame you for wanting relief.” Rebecca turned to look at Samba. “Both from stress and sexual relief. Something tells me you always loved close encounters, real romantic trips. I bet you’re more of a cuddler, really. I can give you plenty of that, but as you are right now, you’re just going to pounce me as soon as you get to my place. You should relieve the tension. There is enough time until we reach my place.”

Samba whimpered.

“Untie your kimono.” Rebecca’s high-pitched voice sounded breathy again the way it did at the club when she knelt before Scar. The image sent molten butterflies fluttering through Samba’s stomach.

Samba’s head felt light as she shifted in her seat, pulling aside the cloth.

“Expose your breasts.”

Samba’s breathing turned heavier as she pulled down the half-cups of her bra. Outside through the window screen of the car she could see dark trees outlined in front of brownstones. A van passed, and she shuddered at the brief glimpse of her the driver might have had. Her upturned nipples stood out hard.

“Pull on your nipples . . . .Yes, just like that. Just like I’m going to do, Samba. . . . .You want to be controlled, and this is the very first moment when it starts to happen. Imagine it, on your knees. Pinch them. Again. Circle them with just a finger. . . . I’m going to bind them and I’m going to be kneeling behind you. I’m going to tease them till you beg for it, till you beg to be controlled. You want that, don’t you?”

Samba heard the question, but could only moan as she arched back in her seat, playing with her nipples. The restriction of the belt made it feel even better. She thought she could feel the rope around her breasts, the rough friction of it against her skin in her mind.

“Let me hear you say it, slut.”

Samba bit her lip, eyes tight shut, resisting for the sheer willful pleasure of it.

Rebecca’s soft mocking laughter made Samba’s pussy drip. “Slut, you can see it happening to you, can’t you? You’ll feel my big soft tits against your back and my thighs around you, and you’ll feel yourself sinking into bliss.”

Samba opened her palms and squeezed her heaving breasts together. “Oh, Rebecca.”

“No, slut, my skin will be touching you, my hands will be making you melt, but I’m just the slave of the mistress who is going to own you soon.”

Dimly, Samba realized the car had stopped, but she couldn’t. She felt herself riding on top of waves of heat that seemed to flower from her pussy. Fingers pushed confidently inside her panties, finding the lips to her wet cunt, finding the hard little button they sought. The fingers kept her there right on the edge.

“Repeat after me, slut.”

The fingers stroked down and teased the entrance to her cunt before circling the hood of her clit. The high pitched, breathy voice against her ear whispered mantras that she helplessly repeated.

Samba sobbed, “I sound how Scar-sensei wishes me to sound.”

She pressed her hips up, jerking forward in obscene gestures of need, “I look how Scar-sensei wishes me to look.”

Fingers pulled her hand away from her left breast, and for an aching moment, she felt the nip of teeth against her hard nipple, “I do what Scar-sensei orders me to do.”

The fingers in her cunt pressed lightly on her clit. Samba’s eyes fluttered as her hips started bucking. “I obey Scar-sensei.” The words released her as she jerked against the fingers inside her. She gasped and ground into the hand invading her panties. She couldn’t stop the rush of pleasure that spread all over her body and left her exhausted.

The car smelled of sex as she opened her eyes, her head back against the seat. Rebecca bent over her, withdrawing her left hand from Samba’s panties and bringing the fingers to the green-haired girl’s lips. Samba opened her mouth and tasted her own submission.

“End of lesson number one,” smiled Rebecca.

Samba craned her neck to see her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were glowing a soft green.

“Is this your place?” Samba shook her head. She had let herself get worked up too easily. She had to keep it in her head that this was about a little fun, to just get the pressure off her. Maybe they could have a serious conversation later.

“We’re at my apartment, but I don’t think you’re quite ready to go in.” Rebecca laughed as she opened her door and stepped out.

Samba tried to let her mind fog over, but she was aware of the slight green tint the world had now. She couldn’t control her own power, what hope did anyone else have of controlling it? She struggled to get up, but her body didn’t want to move. She struggled with her seat belt, not able to quite get it undone. The car door opened, but she didn’t respond.

“Let me help you.” Rebecca reached across Samba and undid the belt buckle. She started to cradle Samba and lift her up but decided against it. “First, let’s remove some things you don’t need.” She dug inside Samba’s kimono and unlatched her bra, tossing it to the floor board.

“Wait, I kind of need tha—”

“You really don’t.” Rebecca wormed her hands lower, slipping off Samba’s panties and forcing them from the girl’s legs. “You don’t need these either,” she said before picking up Samba and cradling her to her chest.

Samba struggled a little, feeling her head swimming as she was being stripped. Her kimono barely covered her, and her breasts were still exposed, the salt sea air running across her bare skin. Rebecca just didn’t care as she carried her up a flight of stairs and into an apartment.

Samba’s head felt like it had been filled with candy-floss as she let Rebecca carry her down a short corridor that opened into a broad living room. In the moonlight filtering through the long window overlooking the bay, Samba made out a large map of Ireland hanging on the wall besides frames of Rebecca posing with various friends and relatives, in and out of police uniform. A long sofa sat against the wall opposite the ocean view.

She rested her head against Rebecca’s shoulder as the redhead shunted a low coffee table aside with her foot and then gently let Samba’s feet fall to touch a woolly rug that lay across the floor. Through the long window of the room, she could see fog over the bay in the moonlight. Her kimono rustled softly as it puddled around her feet.

She let her head fall back against Rebecca, feeling the little rings through the redhead’s thick pink nipples pressing through silk against her.

“Do you see the fog, Samba-chan?”

Rebecca’s fingertips traced Samba’s flanks, moving in slow circles over her pale skin.

“Yes.” Samba’s breasts rose and fell as her breathing deepened.

“Do you see it circling through the window?” Rebecca’s tongue flicked inside Samba’s ear, and she gasped, looking deep into the fog. It rose now over the bay, circling in the air. She tried to answer Rebecca’s question, but found she could only mewl as the teasing fingers started to make light patterns across her stomach.

“It’s coming closer now, isn’t it? Closer and closer. Circling and circling.” The fingers ran up to stroke around Samba’s nipples. “The fog is all around you now, Samba, it’s the only thing you can see.”

The fog moved against her, it licked across her nipples and her ass and her clit. Rebecca’s voice came through the fog.

“Kneel.”

Samba felt warm wool beneath her knees, but she stayed lost in the delicious warm fog that stroked her back and thighs and hot dripping cunt. The fog pressed and stroked against her big breasts, squeezing the soft skin and then pulling it forward till it closed across her nipples, the sudden surprising pinches sending shivers of heat down into her molten core.

Samba moaned as she felt the rope. It wrapped under and around her breasts, looping around her neck and her back, binding her soft flesh deliciously. Soft skin pressed against her back, big soft tits with little silver rings pressing into her, another hot dripping cunt against her asscheeks and long, hard thighs sliding to envelope her own.

The fog cleared and she saw Rebecca’s hands holding a small box of needles in front of her eyes.

“Do you wish to taste the pleasure Scar-sensei can bring you, Samba-chan?”

Samba found her voice, “Yes, oh, please.”

Even as Samba absorbed the sight, her ears couldn’t filter out the thudding beats. Four of them at the moment. A tiny one that felt like Scar seemed to guide Rebecca’s. An unknown beat inside Rebecca was above it, ignoring the situation entirely. Samba could tell that her own was bending and twisting itself to mimic Rebecca’s and Scar’s at the same time.

She bucked lightly and pushed herself against Rebecca. The movements were subtle, but Rebecca joined in on them, following without realizing it. The glow brightened, Rebecca’s face was already being washed in it.

Samba whimpered, trying her best to control it, to make it stop. She didn’t even notice the first needle until heat swirled around her breasts. “What are you doing Rebecca . . . ?”

“Rebecca-senpai to you.” Rebecca’s fingers reached for another needle.

Samba watched the slender needle between Rebecca’s long delicate fingers as the redhead moved it with agonizing patience towards her left nipple. It pierced her areola just below the hard tip.

Her hips writhed, and Rebecca moved with them, grinding her hot cunt against Samba’s ass. The two of them rubbing skin against skin in their own primal rhythm. The heat shifted in Samba’s body, instead of running down into her cunt the flow shifted and reversed, moving up into her breasts, into the very tips of her nipples.

She cried out as she watched Rebecca’s fingers apply the second pair of needles to her breasts. Every nerve in her body quivered with heat that concentrated into her tits. She could feel the air of the apartment moving against them, rough prickling fire coiling in her chest.

“This is the hari chiryo no jutsu of Scar-sensei, Samba-chan, this is only one small fraction of the pleasure that she gave me the night she took me to her service.”

The green glow lit the two women’s naked bodies as they slowly writhed against one another. The heat built inside Samba’s breasts and in her nipples, pleasure shifting to sweet pain, becoming too intense. Filling her mind. Filling her cunt. Filling everything as the world bathed in the soft emerald light.

“Do you want me to release the energy inside you, Samba-chan? Do you want an inkling of what it will feel like when Scar-sensei opens the dam of pleasure she will build inside you?”

Samba shrieked her submission to Scar-sensei into the night, her ass slick with the juices running from Rebecca’s cunt.

Samba’s palms fell flat on the floor. She cried out in pain as the needles left her skin, but the burning pleasure inside her breasts refused to yield.

Rebecca’s hands cupped her breasts and pulled her back up and against her again. Samba felt the flesh of one big soft tit pushed up and Rebecca’s lips reaching down to lick and suckle upon the green-haired girl’s engorged nipple.

Samba’s eyes rolled white as the orgasmic fire rushed out of her nipple into Rebecca’s eager mouth. Her thoughts, her will, her soul squirting up through her tit. Her other tit pressed up, the second engorged nipple offered to her lips, offering the chance to suck away her own mind. She bent to it eagerly; the milk of her will tasted like nectar.

But it wasn’t enough. Samba yearned for something more. Even as the sound of her breathing and the gushing from her pussy consumed her mind, a hole was still left. It filtered through her head slowly, demanding she respond. All in one twist, she had Rebecca under her, pinned to the floor, her breasts free from both their lips, and her hands on Rebecca’s face. Her green nails gently brushed across Rebecca’s skin as her glow intensified.

“It is not enough, Rebecca-senpai. Not for either of us.” Her lips curved around each syllable, drawing attention to her smeared green lipstick. “It will never be enough to just serve.” Samba pressed her lips to Rebecca’s and pushed her tongue inside the redhead’s mouth. She squirmed over Rebecca’s body, matching and allowing every movement the redhead could make.

Samba could feel it. Rebecca’s awareness was slipping as the dance continued. Rebecca was being led around, twirled, and spun, and she could do nothing to stop it. Every one of Samba’s touches coaxed and teased, pulling at specific parts of Rebecca to make her more malleable.

The light coming from Samba marked her territory. She was connected to everything inside it. She could even feel every pore of Rebecca’s skin, every strand on the furry rug, and every bead of sweat that coated her own body.

They were both trapped in the embrace even as Rebecca squirmed and panicked. She hissed through their kiss, but as Samba wrapped her legs around Rebecca’s, her struggling stopped. They were intertwined, unable to separate from each other.

Samba intruded on Rebecca, listening to Rebecca’s biorhythm beat. From there, Samba started matching her own to it, pushing closer to the redhead. The energy, the flirtatious attitude, the confidence, everything about how Rebecca acted pooled in Samba’s mind, guiding her deeper into Rebecca’s soul.

Samba felt Rebecca’s hands slide down her back and start kneading her ass. She could see the green glow in Rebecca’s eyes as their beats started to mingle. Three of them inside the redhead. Samba had never dealt with three beats in a single person. She could already feel it would be rapturous.

Her thigh rubbed upward against Rebecca’s, planting itself against her crotch and rubbing slowly up and down, becoming slick and warm with Rebecca’s juices. Samba could feel Rebecca’s response as a muscular thigh did the same to her.

Under Rebecca’s rhythm were two more. That of Scar’s and that of something deep inside Rebecca. Samba ignored the one deeper inside, feeling its powerful, foreboding vibrations. Scar’s, however, was small, nearly insignificant. It had many layers and was woven intricately into Rebecca, as if it were spiraling around Rebecca’s mind and body, infiltrating every part of it to take control.

Samba traced down Rebecca’s back, feeling the origin of Scar’s beat on her lower back. She traced what seemed to be two symbols separated by a jagged mark. It was the same symbol on Scar’s clothes. She withdrew her hand, instead placing it over Rebecca’s heart, feeling it flutter and beat as her sexual tension built. Rebecca was close.

Samba craned her neck to give Rebecca a light kiss, using that moment to force Rebecca’s beat to change, to align with her own for a few short seconds. It stuttered, went silent, and then burst to life, matching Samba’s for a brief interval.

She stared into Rebecca’s eyes as the backlash hit her. Rebecca broke the kiss, shrieking with primal ecstasy. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, showing only the whites to Samba. Her slit gushed juices onto Samba’s thigh, soaking it.

Samba smiled as she planted several small kisses on Rebecca’s cheek, feeling Rebecca’s rhythm return to normal. Scar’s was still there, but it was suppressed, insignificant. “Welcome back, Rebecca.”

Rebecca looked up at the green-haired girl pressed against her porcelain skin. Her brow furrowed, “Thank you, gorgeous, do you mind telling me who the fuck you are, and why we’re fucking on my living room rug?”

The green-haired girl radiated shock and confusion.

“I-I-I’m Samba. . . . Don’t you remember!? We just . . . you took me here from the club.”

A stripper name. Fuck. Rebecca thought she’d grown out of doing things like this years ago.

She gently eased the girl off her body. She could sense a sweet innocence there, even if it did come in a body built like sin. She gently pulled the girl to her feet and then held her palms up.

“Honey, I am so, so sorry, we just had black-out sex. I’m a psychic, sometimes . . . if the urge comes, I end up waking up with a gorgeous girl—and you really are—and I don’t know her name or how I got there.”

Samba’s eyes popped and she started hopping from heel to heel. Rebecca steeled herself and plunged on.

“I swear on St. Joan’s sacred tits I have not done anything like this since . . . hell, since your age. I have no idea how I let this happen.”

Rebecca’s shoulders tensed against the explosion of outrage.

“Omigod!” Samba slammed her arms around Rebecca, “That’s so great!”

Rebecca tilted her head slightly and looked down at the green hair pressed between her breasts, “Oh-kaaaaaaay, I think we should maybe have a little chat.”

Samba started babbling as Rebecca lead her to sit on the sofa on the far side of the room from the window.

Rebecca sat down and held Samba’s hands together and tried to make something out of the flow.

The girl had powers. Well, that explained the highly authentic looking green hair. Rebecca leaned back on the sofa and tried to not be obvious about checking out the lovely twin curves of the girl’s ass. Oh, yeah. That needs spanking.

“ . . . . So, I keep creeping out of these girl’s rooms before dawn, and I just hate it, and, oh, I-I’m so happy I came looking for you now,” finished Samba. She suddenly lurched forward and hugged Rebecca again.

Rebecca glided a finger down Samba’s spine and slid it between those lush asscheeks. This whole incident might be a tragic flash back to college, but on the plus side, judging by this girl, she hadn’t lost her fast ball. Heh, every cloud.

“Samba, I can definitely help you, I’m ex-FBI, I’m SIU, and I’ve got other people I can put you in contact with about meditation and mental and emotional discipline.”

Samba gazed up from the midst of Rebecca’s spectacular cleavage and smiled, “Thanks so much . . . oh, one of the people isn’t Scar-sensei is she?”

Rebecca raised an eyebrow, “Who?”

The name rang something inside her mind, but she couldn’t seem to sort her own head out. Weird images started to pop up in front of her head like so much flotsam from a ship wreck.

“Scar-sens . . . . Scar, the tiny ninja-gangster woman who told you to take me home. You know, you’ve got that glowy tattoo thing on your as-err, lower back?”

Rebecca jumped, “I’ve got a what?”

She twisted her head and glimpsed Asian symbols tattooed just above her ass. “Fuck. What the fuck is this?”

“ Yeah, I saw it earlier. Thought it was cool, but I can kind of, well, feel Scar like she’s part of you . . . . I don’t think I like Scar, she doesn’t seem like she treated you right at all, and . . . .”

“Whoa,” said Rebecca, raising a hand up. “Samba, sweetheart, I don’t know if I’m coming or going. . . . Can I listen to your memory? I just need to see what happened tonight to get a grip on things.”

Samba pursed her lips and nodded very slowly.

“Thanks,” said Rebecca. “Just think about the things you did tonight.” She stood over Samba and placed her fingers lightly one either side of the girl’s temples.

She closed her eyes and saw Samba fussing in a mirror with her green kimono; a brawl in the street; packed crowds of women dancing; a short, striking Asian woman with bronze lips; herself kneeling on the floor wearing nothing but a red thong . . . .

Oh.

Oh. Shit.

Glass shattered in a window pane as a black-clad figure hurtled through it and into the room.

Rebecca reflexively tried to turn and see what the noise was, but her body didn’t follow her commands. Instead, all she could do was watch as the woman in a black ninja outfit that ended just low enough to show her cleavage off grabbed Samba by the neck and pushed her to the floor. Rebecca calmly sat down on the couch, looking right at the two women on her floor.

“I was right in thinking you need rescued, partner,” the woman said.

Rebecca knew who it was instantly. Daze. How did Daze get wrapped up into all of this, though? Rebecca tried to move again as Samba struggled under the ninja, but again her body wouldn’t budge.

“Get off me!” Samba screamed as she tried to kick Daze off. “Rebecca!”

“I see you were stalling for backup. You’re really quite good at this part. The Kage will be pleased to have such an unknown superhero working for us.” Daze pinned Samba roughly to the floor as she dragged her fingers down and across Samba’s still bound breasts, eliciting a moan from her. “Ah, her chakra is open, and I was worried she got the better of you. Seems you kept your wits. You knew I wouldn’t be late.”

“Of course,” Rebecca found herself saying. She wanted to get up and push Daze off of Samba, to help the girl out, but no matter how hard she tried to push herself, she couldn’t even voice an opinion. “We were supposed to do a late night delivery, Scar-sensei just decided to give me this little pet first. She’s more trouble than I thought. We’ll have to deliver her to Scar before we start. For now, this one needs to learn that the Kage comes first in all things.”

Daze laughed as she repositioned herself, straddling Samba and holding both of her wrists in one hand. “Yes, and I have just the way to teach her.” She held one hand above Samba’s face, each fingertip glowing with white light.

Rebecca wished she could snap and break a chair over Daze’s back as she saw the fear in Samba’s eyes. The poor girl kept struggling, but she couldn’t compete with Daze’s superhuman strength. She looked to Rebecca, pleading and desperate.

“That fear will fade as you embrace the Kage.” Daze pushed one finger to Samba’s forehead, and the girl screamed in pure ecstasy, hips bucking and legs kicking as she started to gush. She took gasping breaths whenever she had a chance to interrupt the onslaught of moans.

Rebecca’s thighs squeezed, seeing the complete helplessness of Samba and feeling it within herself. She took in every detail of Samba’s body, praying that she might be able to free herself. She noticed a peculiar green glow just off the surface of Samba’s skin.

The glow continued to become brighter, coating Daze in a green glaze. Samba closed her eyes, looking serene for a few seconds. She opened them with a sharp gasp, the fear in her eyes renewed.

Rebecca gritted her teeth. Whatever Samba had just tried failed.

Daze moved her hand down Samba’s body, hovering over the center of her chest. “You’ve accepted her in your mind, now accept her in your heart.” She pressed her middle finger to the center of Samba’s chest.

Samba screamed even louder, this time arching her back and rubbing her legs together at the same time, her body unable to cope with the pleasure being given. Rebecca watched as Daze started to respond to Samba’s movements, breathing in the same rhythm at first, then rubbing herself against Samba subtly. The glow intensified, coming out further. If Rebecca could’ve moved, she swore she could’ve touched it.

“And now that you’ve accepted her into your heart, know that she is the person who brings you to this kind of pleasure.” Daze slid down Samba’s body, releasing the green-haired girl’s wrists and instead groping one of her breasts. Samba mewled and struggled weakly as the tip of Daze’s ring finger touched her clit.

There was no flashy reaction. It looked like Samba had been hit by a wave of bliss, her face frozen in the middle of a passionate scream, but no noise coming from her mouth.

The glow completely covered Samba and Daze, almost reaching Rebecca.

“And with this knowledge, you shall become part of The Fist.” Daze’s thumb lowered to Samba’s backside, threatening to penetrate her ass. Samba’s glow finally reached Rebecca, and Rebecca’s body fell back under her control as Daze pushed her thumb inside Samba’s ass.

The coiling darkness that always lay in the depths of Rebecca’s soul surged upwards. She let it happen.

The air warped around Rebecca, shimmering hot against her skin as molecules burned and melted before forming together once more.

Samba’s mouth yawned as she screamed.

—I am The Harbinger. The girl belongs to me.

Daze spun, her eyes bugging.

Rebecca towered over her wearing a black leather corset knotted with blood-red laces, the cups lowered just enough to tease with a hint of her thick pink nipples. Equally blood-red thigh boots bound her legs, silver belt buckles running up their sides. Her hair had been pulled back tight against her skull except for a pair of strands that framed her disturbingly green eyes.

—You belong to me too.

Daze blurred as she struck forward, spikes of purple kinetic energy leaving tracer lines in the air. Pale flame wrapped around her, and she howled as she passed through the empty image of the woman in front of her and crashed into the wall. A large map of Ireland came off and crashed on her head.

—Amateurish.

“Fuck you and your parlor tricks!” Daze came up off the floor, “I belong to the Kage!”

She spun looking for the redhead.

Instead, the flames caught her, and Daze shrieked as they licked across her body, dissolving the cloth of her uniform. The pain collapsed her to the floor, and then she started to sob. The flames slithered across her naked skin and she arched into it, “Oh, god, no, please . . . I belong to . . . .”

The Harbinger stood over the pretty black girl as she writhed beneath her.

—Showtime.

Daze thrashed her head from side to side. She started taking deep breaths. Her tongue flicked across her lips as she spread her legs. Her fingers inched down her body. She let her right hand slip down to her pussy, drifting her fingers feather-light across her clit. She brought her left hand up to her breasts.

—Big fucking tits.

She closed her eyes as she squeezed the soft flesh between her fingers. Her big brown tits tingled. She squeezed again, pushing two fingers back into her pussy. The tingling felt intense and she moaned out loud.

—So fucking good.

She brought her right hand up to squeeze her right tit.

“Sooo good, oh!” The soft flesh seemed to expand beneath her hand. She stared down at the lush flesh bulging between her fingers in shock. She mewled as she squeezed again, and the tingling burned through her body making it shake. The flesh pushed out between her fingers as her tits got bigger and bigger.

Samba crawled to The Harbinger’s feet and nuzzled against her hip. The Harbinger reached down and twisted the green hair between her fingers. Samba shuddered and licked her tongue across her new owner’s skin, her glow now tinting the entire room.

The Harbinger felt spectral nails lightly tracing up her spine, across her cheeks, playing at her ears, and at the soles of her feet. She eyed Samba, reaching a hand down to lift the girl by the chin. Samba’s eyes were lost, and it took her a bit to recognize the look on her new owner’s face. As Samba’s eyes focused, The Harbinger knew Samba had become her thrall.

Daze’s black hair fell over her eyes. It seemed to have grown out too.

“The fuck are you doing to me?” Daze lowered her hands back between her thighs, then flipped over onto all fours. Ass high in the air. The tingling came back even stronger, but now concentrated inside her curvy brown ass cheeks. She wet her fingers and reached back, playing with her asshole as her shivering became more and more intense.

“Fuck!” Daze said as her ass started to expand. Her entire waist quivered as it expanded outward. She pushed a finger into her hole, struggling against her soft, fleshy cheeks. Her muscles slowly atrophied away. The same thing repeating over her entire body, taking her muscular form and making it curvy and soft, much more fit for a fuck toy than a cop.

Daze groaned as she started pushing her finger in and out. Juices dripping from her pussy. Her hair fell further over her face, creating a curtain as she wagged her ass in the air.

“Fuck! I wish I had a camera!” Samba pressed her cheek against The Harbinger’s thigh watching Daze change. Her thighs clenched as The Harbinger let her taste a little of the pretty black girl’s pleasure, her owner’s darkness starting to drip into Samba’s mind.

Daze reached her other hand back to take care of her wet snatch, opening her pussy for her audience. Her toes curled in heat. Her pussy juices ran over her fingers as she stuffed them inside her sopping cunt. Her breath came in sobs as her orgasm built inside her. She shut her eyes tight.

“Oh, yeah, you like that, don’t you, fucking slut, huh?” Filthy taunting words came out of Samba’s mouth. Slut. Cunt. Whore. The Harbinger’s twisting fingers pulling in her hair poured darkness into her soul.

—So degrading, so exciting.

Daze thumbed her clit.

“Oh, yes, watch me, Mistress!”

The Harbinger pulled Samba’s head back to relish the lost look in her eyes once more. But Samba’s eyes looked right back at her, glowing bright green. The sound of a heart beat cut through the chaos inside the redhead’s mind.

The Harbinger refused to blink, staring deeper into Samba’s eyes, trying to burn the last sliver of will that remained in the green-haired girl’s mind, but as she pressed closer, the heart beat became louder. The tracing of nails intensified, feeling as if it were under The Harbinger’s skin.

—I see.

Samba’s eyes looked right through The Harbinger, set on something deeper inside. The Harbinger grinned.

—Clever girl, but I won’t let this happen next time.

The Harbinger gasped as she felt Samba reach past her and latch onto Rebecca. Samba’s eyes opened her eyes wide, flooding the apartment with bright green light. It flashed once, and then collapsed back around Samba. She went lax, laying her cheek on Rebecca’s thigh as the fingers in her hair untangled themselves.

Rebecca held her hands over her mouth in horror, “Oh, god, I bimbo’ized Daze!” Rebecca pushed Samba aside and hurried over to Daze. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” Rebecca took deep breaths. She was going to have to let The Harbinger out again to fix Daze, but she could feel it. The Harbinger wasn’t just going to fix Daze and leave. It wanted to press Daze more.

“Like, I feel so fucking great!” Daze kept fingering her ass and her pussy, unable to stop herself. She continued to writhe on the floor, her face stricken with pure lust.

The beating thundered through Rebecca’s head again. She turned to look at Samba, an idea sparking. “You pulled me back, didn’t you?”

Samba wasn’t entirely there. She seemed dazzled by her own power, moving lightly to a beat Rebecca couldn’t quite make out. It took her a while to answer, and her voice slurred, “Yes, I think so.” Samba struggled to get up, but her hips wanted to move and grind against the couch. She gave up after her second attempt and sat there, lost in her own little trance.

“Well, shit, whatever you did must have been taxing, but come on, first thing about learning to control your power is to never give up trying.” Rebecca stepped over to Samba and grabbed her arm, encouraging her to try again.

The green haired girl seemed a bit more aware this time as she used Rebecca as a brace to get up. She instantly wrapped herself around Rebecca, nibbling at her ear.

“You have to help me. We can’t leave Daze like this, alright? I can already tell your power responds to whatever mess you’ve got yourself into, so this is a new challenge.”

Samba seemed to be paying more attention to Rebecca’s ear than her words.

“You’ve got to stop thinking about sex and focus. Your power doesn’t just key in on your desires, it can reach mine too and give me a line to hold on too.”

Samba still didn’t seem to be paying attention.

“Whatever, you’ve got a lot to learn, that’s alright. Just keep a hold on me, and I promise you whatever crazy sex afterward, deal?”

Samba laughed with a bit of a seductive edge to it, her tongue caressing the lobe of Rebecca’s ear. “Deal.”

Rebecca looked at Daze and reached inside herself. She felt the power surge up from within her, but it didn’t take control. She opened her psychic eye and bathed in the green light that filtered into her soul. The dark sea inside her surged beneath it, but her own pale flame and the light shining from within Samba restrained the gathering storm.

—Daze.

The pretty black girl whined, “Fuck me, mistress, please . . . .” Her fingers parted and dipped between her labia, her juices running slick over her fingers.

Rebecca knelt behind Daze, Samba pressing into her back still brushing her lips against the redhead’s ear; Rebecca reached out and lightly stroked her hands across Daze’s hot skin.

“Oh, god, yes,” hissed Daze, her head pressed down against the floor, she twisted it so that Rebecca and Samba could both see her eyes near-crazed with lust. “Fuck my brains out.”

A light beat rang in Rebecca’s head. She could feel it growing steadily stronger until Samba started shivering, withdrawing from Rebecca for a brief moment.

“Stay with me, honey,”—Rebecca turned her head slightly to press against the green-haired girl’s—“The Harbinger didn’t just warp Daze’s body, she found something, some fantasy deep inside Daze, that made her want to be like this and then gave her the power to make it happen. You’re going to help me find the part of Daze that made her a kick-ass cop, and then I’m going to let her put herself back in shape.”

Samba shut her eyes and nodded. The green light flooded the room. It found its way inside Rebecca, emboldening her. The beats returned stronger than ever, each one enhancing the next.

Rebecca could feel Daze’s skin slick with sweat under her fingers, the musk of the black girl’s desire made Rebecca’s nostrils flare and her own pussy start to drip. She saw the neurons flashing beneath the girl’s skin; saw the electricity moving through Daze’s body; saw the thoughts forming from millions of tiny points of light forming a mind. She saw into the mind itself and the images inside it and beyond to the desires and fantasies it created. She saw it through a corridor of green light as she finally found, kneeling deep in the corners of the black girl’s mind, the person she knew had to be there.

—Daze. Jessica Lesta.

—Remember.

Rebecca felt the edge of The Harbinger inside her, struggling to rise up and take control. Samba screamed as energy passed from her, to Rebecca, to Daze. Samba wrenched back with a scream, dragging Rebecca with her.

For a little time only the sound of heavy, exhausted breathing sounded in the room

Daze sat up and looked at Rebecca and Samba where they sprawled one on top of the other on the floor. “McCandliss? What the fuck is going on with us? And . . . .” Daze’s jaw dropped as her brain registered Samba, “You!”

Rebecca lifted herself up on her knees and gave Samba a wicked grin, “I see. So I’m not your first SIU officer, eh?”

Samba started to go a deep shade of red. “She stumbled on me after I almost lost it when I met up with someone named Seamstress. I didn’t mean to, I just sorta lost control.”

Rebecca twitched.

Daze crossed the space between Samba and her in a second, grabbing the girl in a tight hug and kissing her. “Oh, thank you. You have no idea how much you helped me that night.”

Samba turned a deeper red as she tried to gasp for breath under Daze’s kisses. “But what did I do!?”

Daze stopped kissing, a confused look in her eye. “You don’t know? You made it so, well. . . .” Daze turned a little red herself. “Just, when I used to orgasm, it sent a big shock out, and now it doesn’t. That started with you, so you must have done it. Now quit struggling and let me thank you properly.” Daze laughed as she kept dotting Samba’s face with kisses.

“I’ll leave you two here for a second. I’m going to make sure the backup is prepared for when we go take down Scar.” Rebecca couldn’t wipe the grin off her face as Samba struggled for breath under Daze’s kisses. She grabbed her cell before calling Callaghan.

The phone rang a few times before Callaghan picked up. “Oh fuck, it’s the end of the world, isn’t it?” he asked.

“Yeah, this time: lesbian mind controlling ninjas. I don’t have too long to explain, but I need you to get as many officers as you can to The Pink Sakura. Surround it, make sure no one there escapes. Daze and a green-haired civilian female are with me at the moment.”

“Alright, I’ll get right on it.”

Rebecca heard the click from the other end and put her cell down. She still had to figure out how she was going to get into The Pink Sakura without Scar noticing. Even if she did make it to Scar without her noticing, what would keep her from falling back under her control?

Rebecca looked back to Samba and Daze, who had stopped embracing. “Dammit.”

“Damn what?” Daze asked.

“Just dammit. We have to go back to that bar.”

“Well, right, of course.” Daze stood up and popped her shoulder. “After what they did? We have to get them.”

“It’s not that easy. We have to take Samba.”

Samba looked up at Rebecca, a little fear in her eyes.

“You’re joking. We can’t take her. She’s not a cop, and she’s going to be a target if we fail to capture them. We should take her to a safe house.” Daze stood between Rebecca and Samba.

“We don’t have a choice. That tattoo on your forehead is still glowing, and I bet the one above my ass is too.”

Daze reached up to her forehead, touching the tattoo. “I don’t see why that matters?”

Rebecca sighed. “Whatever Samba did suppressed it, but it’s still going. What if it wears off when we get there? I really doubt they’ll let us return to our normal lives.”

Daze looked back to Samba. She shook her head. “No. If that’s the case, we shouldn’t go. We should just take Samba to a safe house and stay there too.”

“And let them run the streets? We might be the only people that can get close. If all those cops show up, Scar will make her escape, or worse, she’ll have half the force under her command.”

Daze clenched her jaw. “Dammit, you’re right. Still, it’s not wor—”

“It’s okay,” Samba said. “I’ll do it.”