The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Periodically I was swept through a dream like a moist warm breeze..

It started with wildflowers. A lot of wildflowers. Tall seeding wild grasses spread across a great field and wildflowers. Mostly the green was a haze across a rainbow of different blooms, colors of blue, red, yellow, purple, some orange perhaps.

There was a sense of growing golden hue that rose up to turn the other colors almost pale shades of what they’d been. The center to the glow became a pair of green gold speckled; no, mostly green glow within the golden halo. There was a hint of red or pink, lips perhaps, above a smooth shapely chin. Yes, it was a face that was hazy and yet gave such rapture to look on that the blue sky behind it seemed to turn a shameful gray in embarrassment.

A wonderful aroma filled the air. A smell that one would lift the chin so one’s nose could be filled. A view of her started to come into focus and the flame within me moved from a spark to a smolder to a flush fire to a raging bonfire. Her eyes never moved from me. I could see inside her.

The ambrosia smooth scent along with the form of a tender shape sent me into a spin. My entire being rose up as if my sex had come to life just for her. I could not look upon her without the sense I had to possess her.

Sunlight caught my eye. The connection had eluded me.

It was time to rise.

Sweet soft hair slipped across his fingers, his hand, his wrist. The last couple weeks had been eye opening for him. Ginny was part of the center of a whirlwind in which his world changed. Idle fingers kept filtering through the silky threads.

She had found being at his feet had become one proper place for her. After the first rush she found she was wasn’t entirely empty without him controlling her. Her happiness flowed freely when he did, he could feel her glow wash through him.

He had intended to find a way to undo the way his thoughts had entwined with hers and changed a mild submissive nature to utter dependence on him. Ginny now lived for his pleasure. It no longer was simply his telepathic influence. It was a self reinforcing personality, built on who she was before; then built on what she had found with him. Even though his whim caused her to become this, he would not cast her aside like a rag doll. He still felt it wrong to treat people as disposable. He certainly wasn’t ready to be so callous yet. Yet, that was. Not. Yet.

For her part, whenever he took her, he wrung from her every ounce of sexual energy she’d ever had. In her own thoughts she knew he wasn’t in love with her. She didn’t care if he was in love with someone else, which he certainly might be. In her own thoughts it didn’t matter.

She needed him now the way she needed to breath. Life, her life, it had become what she’d wanted to live. She didn’t care what he did to her anymore. So long as she was allowed to touch him and he used her. Her only fear was he would send her away. She felt very happy belonging to him. Love had become the emotion she had towards Ben. Incredibly devoted love.

Ben knew she could not fully understand his own feelings. Internally knew he was deeply responsible, though, dammit. She was his fuck toy, his object, his property. No other man would ever be able to give her sexual pleasure ever again, not because he had intended to prevent it. Because instead, the first night of taking her he’d turned her into an extension of his will. It was a Claiming. Claimed as surely as if he’d branded her. There was nothing she would ever do but obey him as his slave.

Even though he went out of his way to impart on her independent initiative. At the same time though, he didn’t actually want another man touching her, ever. So she was bonded to him and him alone. He knew he was possessive.

For this, he beat himself up emotionally. His selfishness about her was not simple. It was somewhat sad to be the man who could have anything and yet feel so horrible about his own actions with one woman. One girl that is. A woman that had been. Now was just a girl for his pleasure.

Not that this reduced his ego or suppressed his willingness to use his power. Living life without self examination wasn’t his way but he knew himself. He just let the responsibility for Ginny become a part of who he was now. It became part of his life activities. Given orders to do so, she moved in with him. Once he cleared out the room he had used for photography, an abandoned hobby, it was designated her room. Cell perhaps if one considered how sparse the décor was. Now she slept in her own room. . . or at the foot of his bed. He’d put padding there and a few spare blankets just in case. She tended to do so naked, sneaking in more often than not.

Or if it suited his mood, he’d yank her up into his bed and embed his cock in her as long as it took for the pleasure of using her. When she screamed out her pleasure, she cried out the intimate word for owner, Master.

Without even being told, when he brought other women home she acted as servant, cook, maid, anything which allowed her to happily attend him; and his guest or guests. She knew her place. The joy of belonging to him enough that he had her living with him.

Ginny had simply found her home.

Every time he walked in the office now, Janet felt herself clench at the sudden hunger between her thighs. Building up over the weeks since she’d wantonly kissed him like a wild woman, the trickle had become more like a flood. She watched Ben every day and caught herself a few times with her hand between her legs and her tongue tip tracing her own lips. She now watched for any clue of what he liked in a woman.

For all these years she’d been so focused on being a professional woman rising by her wits, force of will and skills. As a woman she had pretty much suppressed anything involving sex attached to any one person. She was the demanding one. She was the one that turned men, and the occasional woman, away when they displayed signs of even slight attachment.

Without having done anything with Ben, other than in daydreams in which she forced herself on him, she felt a tense heat driven roller-coaster calling to her. She kept having to shake herself out of drifting thoughts. She went to the thermostat for her office and turned the temperature setting down another couple degrees. Maybe a colder work space would keep her mind off him. It was difficult to comprehend how this sudden interest in him had grown within her.

At his desk, Ben had been maintaining normal work practices. He just did what he’d always done. The graphics layouts, a few slogans, the demographic studies, looking at the test panel results. Phone conversations with the print shop about requirements. All those day-to-day tasks requiring completion yet just a constant unending cycle of the same things. Like hamsters with an exercise wheel it went on and on.

He easily could dump the job, yes. How fast would using the power for easy money attract the wrong kind of attention? He was trying to find ways to subtly use the ability. Already he had increased his bank account more than triple it’s balance. As long as it looked like he was just being clever and possibly even only using a little bit of unproven inside information, concealing his ability to manipulate would remain closeted.

Janet wasn’t interested in his financial worth. He could see from her quick looks, lingering absence in her attention to the job, the ever so slight urges he’d given her to kiss him had transformed from a gentle contact into a secret obsession. A touch with just a tiny change had completely altered her interests where he was concerned.

Wild imagination driven obsession. Even when he deliberately let slip Ginny moved in with him.

She had seen Ben in the elevator with the young woman a number of times.

Celia brushed back the loose strand of blond hair that had fallen over her brow. It was odd to see the slender woman with such lightness in her step, and a bounce to her unfettered breasts, with such regularity since as far as she knew Ben was quite the hermit after his last girlfriend.

“Hi, I’m Celia,” she’d introduced herself.

“Hello,” Ginny responded, “I’ve seen you on the elevator before.”

Ginny seemed uncommonly happy in talking to someone who had been a stranger. She had on black heels, a short skirt for the weather, and her open coat showed a red silk blouse that obviously had nothing under it to cover her breasts. The round nipples were showing enough to be obvious.

To Celia anyway.

Celia couldn’t help but feel the happiness Ginny was exuding rubbing off a bit. She felt a bit more cheerful for the exchange of smiles, then names.

“When did you move in?”

“Oh, about three weeks ago. Ma.. Ben told me to box up my stuff and hired a van to bring anything too bulky to just carry over.”

“Ben? Yes. Ben. I’ve met him a number of times.” Bringing an image of Ben up in her mind she thought, ‘Every time Ben looks at me lately his eyes seem to shimmer, what could make that happen?’ “I remember his previous girlfriend. She was a bit of a bitch.” Memories of the woman giving her condescending looks brought that on.

“Oh I’m not his girlfriend. That Angelika wasn’t worthy of him,” Ginny said without losing any of her evident exuberant nature. “Ben is wonderful,” her hands almost clasped with her arms out straight before her. This accented that red blouse as the coat opened wider a moment.

Celia tried to apply a sense of logic to this statement but failed. He moved her into his apartment but she wasn’t a girlfriend. She knew the name of the woman before her in Ben’s life? In New York City this both may and may not make sense at all. ‘She seems awfully thrilled to be not his girlfriend living with him,’ Celia thought.

“You’ll have to sit down with me sometime for a chat,” Celia offered up with her eyebrows raised. The door chose that instant to roll open. “I make great hot chocolate.”

“I’m glad to have met you! Sometime. Hot chocolate sometime I mean. I like hot chocolate,” burbling seemed to commence.

Ginny bounced out the door leaving Celia with her head tilted in curiosity. Even for New York it seemed a little peculiar the way the sheer innocence and joy rolled off the girl who had just left the building.

Celia felt a slight pang of jealousy. Not over Ben, lest anyone think that, but the freedom the child like girl had shown.

It was once again a weekend.

End of day on Friday always seems to just suddenly happen and start weekends. It was a thing the office always had. Friday at end of business, everyone fled. Those who did not usually had dinner plans starting somewhere close by. This may seem profoundly obvious, yet it was still a full on event. So as any sensible working man did, he went home.

Janet, did not.

Ben had pulled a chair to the window at the front of the apartment. Dinner had been good. Ginny was just as good as a household cook as the household slut. Interested in keeping the evening paced he was watching the people down on the street. His place wasn’t high enough in the building for them to look like little ants yet they did have a certain faceless identity free nature to them. Entities that existed yet were hollow shells in the scenery.

His ability let him pinpoint each of them and even some not within eyesight. Sensing the human minds as if they were little status lights on an electronic board. There wasn’t anything to connect any spark of life with what he saw out the window. To do that required focusing very specifically. Either on someone he knew or someone he could see. It remained possible though without focusing down by his line of sight, the thoughts and feelings could still be touched. Or read. Or even be manipulated.

One of those little specks of sentience out there seemed to be watching him. Perhaps it was just the building he was in. Every time Ben spilled out his senses to test the area about him he thought of it as a spreading pool, as if he was spilling his mind outward in all directions to find and catch the person watching. There was an elusiveness to the mind he sought. When ever he thought he’d managed to isolate the watcher, the mind or thoughts blended right in with other people in the same area. Try as he may, he wasn’t finding it.

There was a pressure against his thigh. A familiar pressure, a comfortable warmth. Ginny had quietly drawn herself up on the floor beside him and had rested her head against him. Attention was not what she was seeking. It was proximity, closeness, the intimacy of being near.

Absentmindedly, he stroked her hair.

‘Was this enough,’ he thought? It was so much more than he’d had before. Emotionally it did not work correctly for him, though he’d become very fond of Ginny. Not to mention she was a lot of fun to just use when his loins growled for attention. He gripped her by the hair and turned her head by the fist full of her tresses so he could look in her eyes.

Without resistance she responded as his fingers guided her and looked to him as he held her. Not even a whimper of protest came. Those eyes gave him all the clues he needed. Those orbs were not empty, not vacant. She was alive and vibrant in her way. Devotion was not squelching her as much as he’d originally feared. He let himself flow deeply towards her mind. Senses beyond visual, tactile, auditory, beyond the aromas his perception and awareness glided through her.

Something alarmed him. There had been something which had touched the surface of her mind. Only the surface. Tiny as it may have been, he was jolted.

He already was afraid of someone learning about his talent. Having another with mental powers like his own around close enough to do this was deeply unsettling. There always was the possibility, he knew, someone else out there would have the power. He’d simply believed it was uncommon enough to be rare or unlikely they would encounter each other. Unless they were blatant that is.

Sinister. The watcher became far more sinister with this development.

He wanted to lash out at whoever or whatever was watching him. Ben knew that was reactive in nature and considered what he actually could do rather than what he wanted to do.

There are times to react and times to constructively plan. A sound plan would serve him better than swinging wildly at this problem. More delicacy went into this light touch to Ginny and he examined it carefully as he could. Considering how he had been forced to learn his talent and power through trial and error, there was not a lot for him to come to grips with yet. The touch he’d found was almost too light to be noticed, light as mist in the morning. But because he’d gotten to know her so intensely the first time he’d taken her, he could see the little contacts left behind.

Maybe, the thought came to him, if she carried the evidence of such a contact then his own bludgeoning experimentation could leave a trail behind. Thinking of all the people he’d applied even the lightest manipulation to there must be an impression of the area he tended to move around in on the minds out there. He couldn’t really test that theory easily at the moment. That would mean going to places he’d used the power from the first day he had it and doing a careful scan to find his own imprints. He could do that.

Very gently he kissed Ginny. Her smile pleasing him, no matter how slightly, was a vivid reminder she could still be very energetic. Much as he felt the duty towards her safety, he would have to do something to protect himself. So giving her some slight joy was his effort to repay her.

With due care he started to weave something into the deeper part of her mind. A trigger for him if someone tapped into her again. She couldn’t exactly send him a telepathic signal, but she could be made to trigger a series of acts sending a message to him. He made every effort to build up guardians, little thoughts she might think of as mental angels. Constructs to protect her as she was now. The bits of mental barrier and shielding he tried to build into her might be delicate or they might be clumsy. His experience simply was not enough to go by.

When he was done though it seemed like he’d produced a maze on the surface of her, a whole safe and separate persona a scanning entity would see and never look beyond. To trigger the notice and alert for him he’d built in some simple parameters which would change if touched and the change compared in her internal deep subconscious. Once triggered, she wouldn’t know anything happened, but there would be any of a number of different acts she would perform unknowingly without altering the surface persona at all. He tried to give her the sense there was a garden her subconscious self was tending and if a weed grew she would summon the gardener.

Gardens. Not exactly his choice of symbology, but it worked well for him. Now she was his servant in ways beyond her wildest imagination. She could not be used to spy within his home by another.

There had to be a way to improve his ability to find the mysterious sense he kept detecting. But now at least he had a front door alarm of sorts.

As he’d played within her mind her hands had run along her neck. The response he got was low moans and shuttered eyelids. Her head leaned back, soft pink lips open slightly. Playing his fingers over her lit her furnaces.

Sweeping Ginny up in his arms he took her to the bedroom. He idly nipped at her breasts as he cradled her up near his head. Her excitement at the thought she would be properly used lit her up with happiness.

Allegedly, vampires don’t cross running water. It’s just a myth, but looking at New York, it’s hard sometimes not to wonder if the city isn’t filled with them. At least, Manhattan, which is completely surrounded by rivers.

New Yorkers, the hard core, love their city. Leaving it for any duration can be like pulling teeth. It doesn’t matter which borough they live in, but the ones in Manhattan are decidedly more stubborn about it. In addition to the love of city, there’s also a simmering bit of hate for the parts that detract from what they love. Sometimes it’s heat. Sometimes it’s the pest problems. For some of them the graffiti is beautiful and for others it’s a blemish they can’t stand. The city spills over three major islands, a passel of smaller islands, and a portion of the mainland north of the city’s proper boundaries.

In addition to the city proper, the urban complex runs well out into New Jersey and up into Connecticut. The sprawl runs pretty much north to mesh the city indirectly with Boston, and south in a metroplex structure along the coast. Long Island only hosts two of the boroughs yet the blight of urban growth spreads well out, stretching quite a ways before giving in to more rural like areas.

Populated by a little more than eight and half million people, it boasts the largest number of city dwellers of any city in the nation. With a little less than thirty thousand people per square mile, the friction of people being close to each other all the time is stressful. Manhattan itself is estimated to have a weekday population of four million, a weekend population of almost three million and a nighttime population around two million. The chances of two random New Yorkers knowing one another specifically are pretty small. The odds are one could meet another person on the street, converse, and if contact information wasn’t exchanged, never once seeing each other ever again.

That’s not to say the population density and entire demographic is the highest in the world. Tokyo might have a strong lead on that. Even with a little over three million of New Yorkers having been born elsewhere providing one of the most diverse cultural populations in the world, even if sticking to one’s own specific ethnic or heritage specifically, the anonymity of people to each other on the street is astounding. If asked why nothing fazes a New Yorker, it’s that anonymity that has more to do with it than anything else. You don’t prolong eye contact with a stranger, you don’t interfere in a public argument between two people you don’t know, you don’t get involved unless there is a strong reason.

It can make finding witnesses difficult sometimes.

With this in mind, Ben had an immense problem if he wanted to pluck one stranger out of a crowd. Living on the upper east side put him in a heavily populated pocket of Manhattan.

Walking in the morning brought him into indirect contact with a great number of people. The smells, the sounds, the throbbing nature of the city around him made trying to perform the most undetectable scans a tenuous activity. The street vendors were more of a draw than any given individual around him.

He did indulge his hunger. The deep fried smell of kielbasa had drawn his attention at one corner cart. Since he’d managed to walk downtown far enough to be near Columbus Circle, he wandered that direction until he reached the low wall around the park. Still wanting to nosh something he got a hot pretzel and settled his butt down for a rest with his back to the park.

By this time, the flow of traffic was heavy enough that movement of vehicles was about the same speed as walking, so he got to watch drivers, passengers, even buses of people going by. The mass of minds kept throwing off thoughts he could feel the surface of but didn’t want to listen to. Slowly he set up a muffling method of quieting the thoughts he wasn’t directly trying to listen to. The buzz like hum of the wall of human thoughts slowly dimmed enough to ease his comfort.

There remained a nagging feeling he was being watched. The odd sensation just would not stop. City sounds washed over him as he tried to pick out some small clue of what it was that had him edgy. Smells of street food, horses as a carriage went past, an odd little horn from some kind of foreign make of car, the rattle of a cup of coins a beggar had out. . . Ben got up and dropped a single in the beggar’s collection. Time to move on. He started heading further downtown.

The little twitch of some watcher came with him.

Carlos turned his head to look after his quarry. Taking a bite of the hot pretzel he’d gotten, he stepped past the beggar rattling loose change in a cup. With a sideways glance he knew the beggar had been as close as he was to the man he followed. The beggar only noticed him in the short moment it took for him to step past. Clear Carlos was not a mark he’d get something from, the ragged man focused on others to plead for whatever they would give.

Carlos, ran his fingers through his black hair and tried not to stay too close to his own mark. It would not do to be seen. Without looking too closely at others around him, he did collide with a couple that were going uptown. He ignored it even after the guy shouted obscenities at him in departure. The sudden disruption might not have helped his stealth in other places but with the number of people walking by it really was shrugged off by everyone. Even if they were within hearing distance.

The mark had stopped at a news stand and was buying something. Carlos slipped across the street, dodging cars and getting the finger from a cabbie. People could be offended to hell and gone as far as he was concerned. None of them mattered and if they bothered him enough, they’d forget him completely pretty fast. He kept walking the opposite side of the street from his mark, tracking him visually.

If the guy wasn’t a telepath, Carlos would have probably used a different means to follow him. The leisurely method was to use eyes belonging to other pedestrians. Then he could follow from two or three blocks distant and really if the target was within several miles it was just a matter of hopping a focus from one person to another. This was far more difficult. But scanning would be like sending up a signal flare shouting Here I am, Here I am.

Not being terribly familiar with Manhattan, Carlos found it difficult not to stand out a bit though. The natives were trying to move aside as he walked through, mostly ignoring him but recognizing the minute bits of body language that told the story of his not being local. Part of it was the fault of him trying to follow someone though. The way he peered about to keep an eye on the guy was far from the normal walking behavior on Eighth Avenue. It might have been worse had they been heading down Broadway. At least this way he was walking in the direction the vehicle traffic was coming. He had warnings before large moving vehicles would take his target out of sight, albeit briefly.

He was managing just fine to about Fifty-Third street. The mark was nowhere to be seen. He’d lost him. Carlos ran from corner to corner, trying to find him again but it wasn’t going to happen.

Though Carlos was just fine at trailing people where he could use his telepathic powers he simply was not fleet afoot enough to keep tabs on someone without cheating with other people’s eyes. He let out an angry cuss-word and spun about with the face of a man who couldn’t see clearly.

There was nothing to do but head back uptown to wait outside the subject’s apartment building again. Sooner or later the mark would be there again and the trail would start again.

Carlos just hated having to explain to his associates how this happened. Why did these things just seem to happen to him?

Celia leaned forward, examining the choices she had and being a bit more dainty in doing so than the other customers might have liked. Finally she picked out a pastry from the case in front of her.

“I’ll have that one,” directing the young man behind the counter. With a slide of the door and using wax paper to pick it up he deposited it in a small cardboard box for her. She didn’t see why they didn’t just use paper bags like everyone else rather than the boxes. A bag could be printed with their logo as easily as the box. It was probably built into the cost anyway so it wasn’t likely to matter that much.

“Here you go,” he said. “Will there be anything else?”

“No, just this.”

“Fine, will that be cash or charge?”

“Charge,” she dug the card from her purse.

She saw the girl from upstairs, Ginny, while waiting for her receipt. The young woman was in clothing which could be described as weather inappropriate. The chill outside was pretty unpleasant.

“Thank you,” a piece of paper was before her eyes. Oh. The receipt.

“Thank you,” but by now the young man had moved on to the next customer. She stepped out the door and watched Ginny enter the apartment building. With a bit of a skip herself, Celia slipped through the temporarily sparse traffic to get in the building quickly.

By the elevator, Ginny was rocking on her feet impatiently waiting for the elevator.

“They’re never fast enough when you want them to be,” Celia said.

“Oh my no. It’s okay though. I just didn’t want to stand here waiting. I’m good at waiting at other times. Just not for a machine.”

“I can get that.” There was a ding and the elevator slid open. “Oh good. It’s here.”

Ginny stepped into the little room. A room that moves, thought Celia. She joined the girl and pressed the button for her floor. “What floor? Oh wait. Same as Ben’s. I’m getting absent minded.” She pressed the other floor.

Ginny just smiled knowingly. “I get distracted too sometimes. You do seem to get distracted a bit though.”

“What do you mean?”

“At first you hardly noticed me, which is not a surprise. I’m not particularly someone who gets a lot of notice. Except for guys, but I don’t care about them. You seem to get distracted now that you’ve known me. Since you’ve seen me come and go I mean.”

“Part of that is Ben having someone new and my curiosity about the kind of person you are. The odd part is I don’t know Ben that well.”

“Maybe it is. But I think he’d like to know you better.”

Celia as a little surprised. She looked at Ginny, “He’s never displayed anything but detached friendliness to me.”

“You are the only person in the building he talks to at all. You can’t think he’s like that without being interested in you, do you?”

“I never thought of...” The door opened. “Maybe you’d like to come in and chat a little with me?”

“Oh, I can’t do that just now. Ben may be up stairs wondering where I am.” Ginny shined a grin at Celia that could only be described as joyful.

“No, I saw him going downtown when I was on my way home. I’m pretty sure he’s not up there.”

Ginny didn’t look upset about it. A thoughtful expression crossed her face and she smiled again. “Sure, I’ll come in for a bit.”

She followed along behind Celia, perfectly content if she was not presently needed by Ben. Celia remained baffled but found the idea Ben was interested in her pleasant. She vaguely remembered him gazing at her reflection on the elevator. Eyes. She’d liked the eyes. That she recalled.

Cheating? Yes, he was. It was interesting picking the brains of his opponents. One of the nice things about playing chess here was how many young women walked by as he did. While he did some bird watching he proceeded to kick ass playing several of the regulars in Washington Square Park. All he had to do was wait a few moments after his opponent moved, pick up the mistake they almost invariably saw in their own position and let them do the focusing on best options for him.

Meanwhile he’d made one lovely blond woman with a magnificent set of, hrm, well, jugs perhaps for want of a more eloquent word, stand opposite him on the path. Despite the chill, she still managed to shed her panties while trying not to be seen by anyone but him as she did so. A few moments with her arms inside her coat and under her shirt and she managed to slip out of the large bra she’d had securely in place.

“Check,” he said without doing more than move the knight. His eyes looked up at her and she seemed to be nervous, perhaps a bit fearful.

Her name was Carol. She had one of those amazing, if top heavy, hourglass figures that seem to draw hands close to touch the curves. If it hadn’t been chill out here he’d have her shed those leg warmers and show off her ankles. The mirror she’d looked in when she was getting dressed was a fine memory of them to him, but he’d love to see them in person. One could seriously smother between those boobs though. Maybe he’d bring her home to meet Ginny.

Carol shivered, not so much from the chill, but knowing she wasn’t in control. She knew somehow she was being forced to perform odd unexpected whims with her body. There was an awareness inside her of the movements not being of her own volition. Worse yet was doing it on the path in the park.

Moving a pawn, he said “checkmate.”

“I’ll be d..,” his opponent was still trying to figure out how he’d fallen into a trap he wanted to set himself. “sunovabitch.” Other players were around and smack talking each other, but this opponent just shrugged and started resetting the board.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” Ben said. But someone to the side of him blocked his view of Carol a moment and interrupted. Their ruddy cheeks in the chill air made them look a little ripe, their lips a red akin to being out in the cold air a bit too long.

“I got winners though,” it turned out to be a teenager. Ben looked at the boy and smiled. Then he realized it was a young girl. Chess prodigy in the making, Ben was sure.

“No kid,” Ben said, “I concede right now. And I bet if I stayed you’d beat me anyway.”

She looked at him as if he was trying to rob her. She looked angry he wasn’t going to play her.

“Chill, you have plenty of victims to beat,” he said, “I just want to meet someone.”

She crossed her arms and glared at him. He crossed the walk to Carol.

“I’ve been watching you,” he said.

“Are you making me do this?”

“Do what?” He grinned as much as any predator closing in on prey.

“oh my god, you are!” She couldn’t shout for help either. She was sure he was going to do something more serious to violate her.

“I was going to ask your name and see if we could get a cup of coffee. But if you’re preoccupied?”

“No you weren’t, you pervert. You were going to rape me.” She tried to get her own angry face on to match the glare of the young chess prodigy. Her face instead just relaxed into a friendly smile.

“Oh hell. You’re pretty and have a great figure, but I suspect you might want to rape me.” He raised his hand and touched a single finger to her lips. “Hush. Let the fear go.”

He relented and changed her awareness and fear into something more peaceful and aroused. Letting her know she was being controlled was enjoyable, but exploring her mind he found there wasn’t a submissive underneath. She was not what he’d been looking for but he would leave her in need of a good fuck. He took the panties out of her pocket, slowly, gently.

“Go see your guy. I suspect you will really want to let go right now.” The panties, he tucked into his own pocket, a souvenir. “Go on. Scoot.”

Suddenly she was all excited about finding her boyfriend and screwing him senseless. She didn’t know what had come over her but she remembered not putting on her panties to excite him; oh, and deciding to drop in on him bra-less.

He though knew just what came over him, despite letting a perfectly good fuck toy go. He’d been enjoying his leisure sampling women of several shapes and sizes, in several situations. Somehow though the concerns about whoever had been watching him gave him more than a little nagging distraction from his little games.

He’d even passed up teaching that little chess prodigy her place. Thinking on that he looked back at her and read her. Too young for what he’d thought of. Too young.

Carlos had taken up residence in the pizza place within sight of Ben’s apartment. He never had lost anyone like this before. It pissed him off. The staff took no notice of Carlos. He was not in the mood to be bothered.

So when a hand came to rest on his shoulder, he was not expecting it.

“all the meddling you’ve done here will be a huge spotlight when he returns.”

He did not look to see who it was. He knew who it was.

“I think we need to take you to see the wizard,” said the voice. Suddenly Carlos wasn’t so angry anymore. No, now he was nervous and worried.

“Now tell me about this thing where Ben talks about me?” Celia had Ginny settled in on her couch and was sitting beside her with a cup of hot cocoa.

Ginny had her legs stretched out onto a little wood stool and kicked off her heels. She easily could have been a dancer, those legs so smooth and muscled. Celia caught what she thought was a glimpse of Ginny’s bottom.

“He doesn’t so much talk about you as look at you when he sees you.”

“So, what, he’s checking me out?”

“He may have done that but what I notice is how he looks at your face. He seems more intense when looking at your face. He does that to me too though,” she sipped the cocoa, “when he’s fucking me.”

The matter of fact statement about sex almost made Celia gag on the hot chocolate she was sipping.

“Wait, what, hold the phone,” there goes that not a girlfriend thing again, “I thought you said you weren’t his girlfriend.”

“Oh, I’m not.”

“Friends with benefits?”

“Much more than that. I am deeply in love with him after all.”

There was a moment of confused silence. Celia licked her lips and almost had a cat like moment in looking at Ginny, as if to target something that had made an unexpected motion. The girl’s blouse seemed to be one or two buttons more open than when she’d walked in. This too the blond noticed.

“You’re going to have to explain this not a girlfriend and yet having,” she worked on the delicacy of asking, “the intimacy. How do you know he’s not just taking advantage of your emotions?”

“Emotions? He’s certainly taking every advantage of me I can get him to. I belong to him,” Ginny was matter-of-fact about the statement and was looking around the apartment Celia lived in. “This is so much like Ben’s place.”

“My god!” She ignored Ginny’s non-sequitur completely. Celia was not ignorant but the extent this went was outside her experience. Perhaps was behind the coupling in question. “I wouldn’t expect Ben to be into S ‘n’ M. He always has been a polite and gentle person when I’ve met him.”

“You think he’d hurt me?” Ginny tone became almost scolding and caught Celia’s eyes. “He’s my protector!”

“So it’s not S&M? I thought,” watching Ginny’s expressions told her the woman was perfectly at peace. “What is it then, what’s going on?”

“I gave him my submission.” It’s the way Ginny said it as though it explained- everything. It really didn’t matter she had no clue there was a significant trigger behind her submission to Ben. “I met him at the coffee shop I work at. I gave him my phone number and we, we went out. For some reason we ended up back here, in the apartment upstairs. It was unexpected and unexplained.” She turned a little bit red and went on. “I knew he was the one, well. I knew. During that first night. Then,” her eyes glazed a bit, “in the morning. He held me on the train. I feared he wouldn’t call me again. I knew though, he was the one.”

“The one you needed?”

“I am a submissive. He is a dominant. He’s the one.”

“The ‘one’ what?”

“The one I belong to.” She was just as cheerful about this as if just getting a huge bargain at a sale.

Celia mulled everything over. It just didn’t fit things as she knew relationships.

“I still don’t understand how you can let yourself be so submerged for a man.”

Ginny gave Celia a sympathetic look. A gentle smile came to her as she leaned over to kiss Celia on the cheek. In doing so, Celia could see the girl’s upper thigh exposed for a moment, without panties. Celia wasn’t shocked at this point but it highlighted the next statement the girl made.

“I became free when he claimed me. My life was new and right.”

Ben was a walker. He did the quick stride now that many of the denizens in the city did when they wanted to move swiftly. Reaching his neighborhod though, he pulled up short.

There was an unsettling sense something had changed on his street. Doing that scan thing, pouring himself out to look for the person watching him gave him a little bit of response at the pizza joint. It wasn’t what he was looking for though. Instead it was a group of people who had been tampered with. Four of them, maybe five, mostly employees there. Or the owner.

He considered settling down and scanning each one carefully. Instead he thought about what it would take to shield him, the kind of thing he’d done with Ginny. The thought someone meddled with Ginny struck him briefly. What if this rather unwanted voyeur had gone in to. . . He paused. No. He’d know already if they had. What he needed was to find a way to put a guardian construct in his own head, a shallow immitation of his personality not likely to be seen past.

He settled at a corner cafe, ordered a soft drink, and started doing the self protection construct. His eyes were open and part of him watched the street for any oddities. Drink and some bread arrived. He ordered a little something on the menu he had no intention of eating. He was trying to just do the normal things expected at a cafe while he concentrated.

Carlos found himself in a penitent position. He’d never seen the Wizard and would not now. A bag cloaked his head and he knew any telepathic effort would be crushed in no time. On the other hand, he had no idea he’d been programed to keep the mind’s eye closed while anywhere near the Wizard.

“I specifically said I didn’t want Mr Madison to know he was being watched.”

“I’m sorry sir,” Nervously he twitched on his knees. This was not a comfortable position by any means but he’d rather be on his knees than have the Wizard take away his ability.

“Now he has to know someone is watching him. The way he radiated his power just walking around made him simple to catch on to, but now that he has a reason to turn down the volume, there will be trouble. I should punish you severely.”

“No Sir! I’ll do better. I’ll do much better. Just let me. . .” Carlos realized the begging was akin to what happened when he sadistically took the young men he liked. He couldn’t help it though, he’d do or say anything to keep his ability. As well as his free will. Which, without knowing, he’d already lost.

“Well I suppose you might have a use,” then there was a long bit of silence.

Carlos didn’t know if the Wizard had left, if he was standing and pondering. It was possible his audience was over and he was being punished by being left. The time lengthened and a hand rested on his shoulder.

The voice that came to him in the pizza parlor said, “Okay Carlos, I have been told to give you a new task.”

The hood was pulled off. Looking around, Carlos got up off his knees. He rubbed the sore points where he’d been putting his weight.

“Anything man. I really just want to make up for my mistake.”

“Ever kidnap someone? Without using the power that is.”

“Hello, Original Anthony’s Pizza.”

“I want to order a pizza to go, and no anchovies.”

“okay wise guy, what size, plain, pepperoni? what do you want on it?”

“Is that you Ross? Yeah, meat lovers actually.”

“Okay Ben, you sure you don’t want to have it delivered?”

“No, I’m about fifteen minutes away and I can just pick it up on my way. If you don’t mind of course.”

Laughter came from the other end. “Yeah, I can have that ready for you in fifteen.”

Click.

Even over the phone Ben was able to read what happened that afternoon, some guy who had come in, got free pizza, then sat by the window. Yeah, it was apparent how that had happened. It was just the kind of thing he himself had been avoiding so as not to pick up too much interest in him. Well, when he got closer, he’d try to get more than just an impression but an image in the staff’s collective memories. Something to put a face to this mystery guest.

Summoning the waiter, he paid cash this time leaving a somewhat higher tip than the visit merited. Taking a slow walk to leave the cafe he looked about him for any peculiar visitors. It seemed whoever ‘they’ were, ‘they’ weren’t leaving huge hints around other than the pizza place.

“Surprise, I brought pizza tonight!” He set the box on the counter.

“hello?,” he repeated to the apartment. No one was home. He looked at the clock and thought it quirky Ginny was not here, though he had given her money to go shopping with. With a disturbing image of the black haired southern european looking man and the tall faceless person who accompanied him when they left the pizza place, Ben as concerned.

Having explored Ginny so many times he just reached out, relieved to find she was actually in the building. Two floors down. She was with familiar company it appeared. Familiar to him anyway. Pizza lifted off the counter again he stepped back into the hallway and locked the door.

“Who is it?” Celia wasn’t expecting anyone. Knocking usually meant an expected visitor. What the..

“Pizza!,” came the voice from the other side. She peeked out the peep hole to see Ben standing there. Then she looked over to Ginny who had been chatting with her much of the afternoon, trying to illuminate her about why’s and wherefore’s.

Undoing the locks, and the chain since she knew Ben, she opened the door.

“I happen to know Ginny is down here and since I was trying to reward her by not having her make dinner,” he took a breath, “I thought I’d bring it down here to her rather than let it get cold.”

Hearing him explain this sudden visit immediately had Ginny giggling almost in a child like way. She pushed past Celia to him and gave him a bountiful kiss.

“My Master is so thoughtful!” She announced, which once again gave Celia a slight twitch at the oddity. And unlike before, a bit of a twinge of jealousy about Ben perhaps. She could feel the girl as if her own body’s furnace had started.

“Come on in I guess. I hope there’s enough for everyone.”

“If not, I’ll order more. Though it will confuse them if I have it delivered here. The elevator might not stop on this floor with pizza for me.”

Celia laughed, feeling more at ease.

Ben smiled as he put the pizza box on the counter. His own nervous sense at being in Celia’s place was simply not set aside by the power that was his to weild.

“Have a seat, we’ve been chatting without realizing the time.”

“Certainly we have,” added Ginny, “I should have been waiting by the door for you!” Ginny rushed to the kitchen ahead of the leisurely motion Celia was making. She knew where it would be, the apartment layout being similar. But she paused briefly. “Where are the plates?”

“Left of the sink, bottom shelf of the overhead cabinets,” replied Celia, now turning around to settle back down. In moments Ginny was approaching the couch with two plates adorned with a slice each. Smoothly as if it was a dance move she lowered herself to her knees with her ankles folding behind her under her bottom. She offered the first plate to Ben, and with her head still lowered, the second to Celia.

“May I have some now Master?” Ben saw Celia reacting. She was almost awed at the way Ginny did this.

“Of course you may. You’re a very good girl,” while she popped back up glee to supply herself with a plate and a slice, he turned back to Celia. “If she’s making you uncomfortable, she can behave very pedestrian and normal in public.

“She’s charming,” replied Celia, thinking ‘a hot minx too’, “We talked about her and you this afternoon. I admit it’s a little surprising to me what your dynamic is.”

“I had thought she would consider being here with you being about the same as being out in public, to be honest.”

“There’s no question of her, um, status in relation to you though.”

“Ah, disturbed with me now, I suppose?,” he’d started eating his za and about at that point Ginny did that amazing sink to her knees with the crossed ankles behind her again. She remained quiet now. Inwardly she felt like she’d gotten away with some mischief, getting him to visit Celia.

‘Food, pizza good,’ she thought. Though certainly not in such neanderthal like terms.

“I’m okay with it,” answered Celia, “Now that I see the two of you together it’s kind of.. well surprising.”

“Surprising how?”

“I’m not sure but her happiness could do to rub off on me a bit. She’s got such, something,” Celia felt her face heat up. Pink hue seemed to run up from her neck,

“Hey.”

“Hey what?”

“Your eyes, they’re silver again.”

Ben put down his plate then got up. Looking in the mirror by the front door, he saw what she was seeing. Colored silver now, he could not understand what the deal was, then they started to fade back to normal.

Once they had, he looked at Celia, wondering. A tendril of thought from him ran gently over her. Elegance was what he liked about her and he feared that any of the mental control he implanted in her might ruin the very things he thought made her so enticing.

Oddly enough the effort to scan passed right over her without touching her mind, and more notably, without her noticing. His own surprise was almost as great as hers over the color of his eyes.

The intruding form slipped past Ben’s desk. In the darkness it didn’t matter that he wore a mask. His hand on the office door was as light as he could manage. Turning the knob he was able to keep silence as his cover. He stepped into the room and looked about. Somewhere in here would be the address he needed. Light stabbed out in a cone, sharply lighting where he pointed the flashlight.

Not using the power was making this task very difficult.