The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The view of the hill hadn’t changed in the three days since they’d come to Albany; Maura was long since past wondering why she bothered looking. She, along with Tammi and Asha had retreated to Albany because it gave the easiest access to where Bridget was. Just hop in the car and they’d be with her in three hours time. But Bridget hadn’t called, there’d been no contact at all since she’d left to confront Prof. Sawyer. And Albany wasn’t an entertainment Mecca, which left Maura little to do but stay in her hotel and occasionally stare out the window at the hill which dominated the center of town.

“No news is good news,” she whispered. “No news is good news.”

Maura shuffled back to the bed, threw herself onto the mattress, turned on the TV and groaned when she saw what was on. If she ever, at any point in her life, saw the Oprah Winfrey show again, it would be too soon. She turned her head and stared at her cell phone, willing it to ring. Anything to relieve the monotony.

There was one thing she could do. Tammi and Asha were sharing a room at the end of the hall and they’d said if she got “bored, or lonely or anything” she could drop by and “hang out” with them. Maura had known exactly what they’d meant and she’d been flattered. It was nice to know she still had it. To this point, she’d held out because she wanted to be ready to go at a moment’s notice.

“And why is that?” she asked herself, because it now occurred to her that if Bridget had been captured by Prof. Sawyer, Bridget wasn’t going to call and announce the fact. And if Bridget did call to say their plan had succeeded, how would she know Bridget was telling the truth? How could she really, 100% know? If Bridget had been enthralled by Prof. Sawyer, she would not hesitate to sell her, Tammi and Asha all the way down the river. The more she thought about it, Maura realized there was only one way. She rolled off the mattress, to the floor and pulled out her briefcase from under the bed. Her 9mm was wrapped up in the straps of its holster. The weapon felt reassuringly heavy at her side and just under the left armpit when she put the get up on. Next she inspected the weapon: Clip full, a round chambered and safety on. She slipped the gun back into the holster, put her jacket on and left the room.

Asha smiled when she saw who was at the door, “We were beginning to think you were avoiding us.”

“No, not avoiding you,” Maura’s smile was tight, “but that isn’t why I’m here. I’m going to check on Bridget.”

“But she said …”

“I can’t wait here anymore.”

Asha nodded. Tammi had joined them, “Give is a sec to get ready.”

“You aren’t coming.”

“What!” the pair chorused.

“Nothing personal, but the two of you would only get under foot,” Maura said, and when the other two made to protest, she used the tone that always worked on her kids, “This is not open to discussion.”

Maura left instructions for the two to let the New York Coven know what she was doing. In the hotel lobby, after she’d checked out, she rented a car … one of the perks of being in the FBI was she never had a problem getting a vehicle. 15 minutes later she was on the road, speeding east.

Bridget lay naked on the floor, her chest pressed into the rug, ass high in the air, her legs spread wide. Victoria and Prof. Sawyer sat in chairs behind her, inspecting her.

“She is lovely, isn’t she,” Prof. Sawyer said. Victoria agreed.

“Please!” Bridget begged.

“Please what?”

“Please let me … god … so hot … please!”

“Ummmm,” Sawyer made a show of thinking it over. “No!”

“I’ll be good!”

“I’m sure you will,” Sawyer chuckled. “But you were very bad to ever oppose me, and for that you need to be punished. Come back tomorrow and maybe I’ll let you cum then.”

Bridget scrambled to her feet and genuflected, “Yes ma’am, thank you ma’am.”

Cindy waited for Bridget outside the office door, “What did she say?”

“No,” the word was awash in disappointment, “maybe tomorrow.”

Cindy made a sad face as she and Bridget started down the hall. Like Bridget, she was nude, “I’m sorry, but for what it’s worth, I’ve seen how she looks at you. I don’t think she’ll make you wait much longer.”

“I wish she’d hurry up. I’m going nuts here.”

“I know,” Cindy said sympathetically, then gave Bridget a chaste hug. “It won’t be much longer, I’m sure. And when she starts letting you again, you’ll find me, right?”

“Of course.”

A wicked gleam appeared in Cindy’s eyes, “Thanks, I’ll see you around.”

Cindy bounded up the nearby staircase. Bridget watched her go with a sigh. In the three days since she’d returned to the house, Cindy was the closest she’d come to making a friend. The girl was achingly beautiful, so much like the girls Bridget regularly seduced in high school and college, and so proud of the fact Prof. Sawyer had personally enthralled her, her mother and both her sisters. The thought of it made Bridget sick.

She quickly beat that emotion back; any slip in her façade could be dangerous. But there was no one nearby to see her. The hearing aid lodged deep in her ear canal itched maddeningly. Bridget wanted to pull it out and scratch. There were no control spheres nearby, but she couldn’t take a chance either. With a violent shake of her head, which helped only a little, she started for the basement. She had only one more rune to find before she could put her plan in motion and the basement was the only place she hadn’t had a chance to inspect.

Dusk was falling as the car rolled to a stop. Maura lowered the window, the cold air felt like a punch in the face, and raised her binoculars. An undeveloped lot lay between her and the Tastick mansion. Her view of the house and front gate was clear, not that there was anything to see. Things were very quiet. She turned on her radio, keeping the volume soft, sipped her coffee and started on her turkey wrap. She settled in for a long night.

Bridget had been in Victoria’s basement exactly once, and if anything, the room had become even messier. She approached the north wall, looking for a spot where the clutter seemed relatively light. She worked slowly, her nudity leaving her anxious about injury. Finally she emptied a corridor through the mess, leaving her space enough to inspect the wall. And there she found it, a 4″x4″ bas relief carving of Eros. Bridget had to drop to her knees to run her hand over it.

“What are you doing?”

Bridget stood up. At the foot of the stairs was a lovely, pale skinned brunette. Bridget needed a moment to recall her name … Darla. Her father was the CEO of some huge company that had a role in Prof. Sawyer’s ultimate plan. Whatever those plans were (she hadn’t been able to figure out that yet) Bridget suspected this girl could get the Prof.’s attention.

“I was bored, so I went exploring,” Bridget said, hoping she sounded innocent.

“You aren’t supposed to be down here.”

“Well, no one told me.”

Darla approached Bridget with caution, “What were you doing there?”

“I found this cool sculpture … take a look,” Bridget stepped out of the corridor to let Darla in. She examined the carving closely before turning back to Bridget.

“I’d better go tell Prof. Sawyer.”

Bridget blocked Darla’s path. She hadn’t tried any psionic domination since she’d arrived in the mansion; she had no idea what the interaction with Prof. Sawyer’s conditioning would be. But desperate times …

“I don’t really think that’ll be necessary, do you?” Bridget asked with a mental push.

Darla’s head snapped back, “But … it’s really … kinda’ weird …”

Bridget pushed again. Slogging through Darla’s mind was like wading through deep snow, “Just because it’s weird doesn’t mean it’s important. Why bother her until you know for sure?”

“I don’t know … I …”

“Sleep on it,” Bridget pushed again. A massive headache was forming behind her eyeballs.

“Yeah,” Darla floundered, “sleep on it.”

“Good. Let’s head upstairs.”

Before bed, Bridget visited the kitchen for a glass of water, then a second, then a third. She was on her 6th when Cindy noticed her.

“Thirsty?”

“It’s good for your skin,” Bridget replied.

“I’m keeping my fingers crossed for you tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry,” Bridget smiled. “I have a good feeling.”

Her father had taught her the trick on a camping trip when she was very young.

“If you need to get up early, and you don’t have an alarm clock, drink lots and lots of water before you go to sleep,” he’d said. “It’s what the Indians used to do!”

The overpowering need to pee awoke her. Silently, and quickly, she made her way to the bathroom, then stepped into the hallway once her business was done. The nearby grandfather clock read 3:30a. The first of the runes was in the library, downstairs and on the other side of the house.

Though she was sure she was the only one up, she knew she wasn’t the only one awake. The house wasn’t silent, every step of the way she heard the quiet moans and gasps of women having sex. Tammi had been right, carnality was a 24 hour affair with Prof. Sawyer around. Tammi had been right about other things, Bridget recalled with a shudder: Humiliation, pain, urine, scat … Bridget had felt shame for these women who were no longer capable of feeling it themselves. Prof. Sawyer enjoyed watching her slaves debase themselves; in that regard her “no sex” punishment had been a blessing. Bridget was sure she would not have been able to maintain her front had she been forced to participate.

In the library, Bridget slipped two fingers into her quim and smeared the moisture on the carving of Venus. With her hand still on the carving, she recited the incantation Cynthia had taught her. When she finished, the carving glowed like a dying ember. She repeated the procedure on the carving of Athena in the sitting room. The carving of Diana in the dining room presented a problem. Allie was there, sleeping on the dining room table, her body wrapped around Tara; Bridget recalled she was a college friend of Cindy’s. Bridget had whispered the incantation here and sighed with profound relief when the carving began to glow. The final carving was the one she’d found a few hours earlier, that of Eros in the basement.

Cynthia had warned the effect would be almost immediate once the runes were activated. Still, Bridget was surprised by the rapidly growing need in her loins. She made her way back up the stairs, but in the hallway she saw light coming from the kitchen. Bridget ducked back into the staircase, leaving the door ajar slightly so she could watch who else was awake. A moment later, Leslie stepped into the hall, carrying a sandwich on a plate. Even from 20 feet away, Bridget could hear the ragged breathing of a girl suddenly, and inexplicably, aroused. Leslie had stopped to look up and down the hall before disappearing into the darkness of the house.

Bridget slowly counted to ten before stepping into the hall and heading to the foyer. Quietly she took the stairs two at a time, turning left at the top and tip-toeing to the master bedroom.

Prof. Sawyer was not alone. Two other women shared the king sized bed; a tall, curvaceous woman Bridget knew only as Sarah and Cindy’s mother, Madison. Bridget pushed on the minds of the two the idea Prof. Sawyer wanted them to leave her bed and find another girl to couple with. Gently, so as to not wake their Mistress, first Sarah then Madison rose and slipped out of the room. Bridget climbed onto the bed. Prof. Sawyer groaned. Bridget saw she’d slid a hand between her legs. Sawyer rolled onto her back. Bridget forced the woman’s legs apart, then moved the hand away. She ran the tip of her tongue along the length of Sawyer’s slit.

“Whuuuh,” Sawyer groaned. Bridget took another lick.

“Bridget?” Sawyer whispered after yet another stroke. A hand fell lightly on Bridget’s head, fingers wrapping themselves in the girl’s hair.

“Please,” Bridget said. “I can’t wait anymore. Please let me.”

Using her fingers, Bridget pulled the soaking lips apart, exposing fully the Prof.’s twat. Bridget’s tongue plunged deep into the steaming hole, then darted upwards to rake Sawyer’s clit. The older woman’s hips rose off the feed, feeding her cunt to the girl.

Sensory overload baffled Sawyer. She couldn’t ever recall feeling as heated as she did now, and Bridget’s mouth was incredible: soft but firm, gentle and strong, all at once. She knew she should be angry at the girl for disobeying her, but what she was doing …

“Ohhh … uhhh,” Sawyer gave into the sensations. “Oh God!”

Using her hand, she pulled Bridget in deeper. The redhead was using her fingers now, it felt like two or three, thrusting in and out while her mouth worked the clit. Sawyer barely recognized her own voice as she urged Bridget along.

“Yes … God yes … don’t … more!”

Her arousal proceeded on two tracks, one of which would lead to the most intense orgasm she’d ever experienced. Sawyer had no idea Bridget was this good and she cursed herself for not indulging sooner.

“Oh … ohhh …. Ohhhh!”

The second track flitted on the edge of her consciousness, growing in strength with each wonderful motion of Bridget’s tongue, coming into focus. It was something Sawyer recognized, though couldn’t place, like something she hadn’t thought about in a long time.

“Wha … whu … what … what are you doing?”

Layer by layer, the heat of her arousal burned away the confusion. She could see that second track for what it was. Power … power to be wielded by another.

“No … no … noooo … stop.”

Now she realized, she’d fallen into a trap. She looked down. The adoration and devotion in Bridget’s eyes were gone now, replaced with the cold, dead stare of someone who knew what needed to be done and was willing to do it. She placed both hands on Bridget’s head, intending to push her away. Instead, she held her in place as her hips began to piston.

“Stop … stop … stop, stop … please stop!”

Sawyer heard herself begging. It disgusted her, but there was nothing she could do. Her arousal, and the way Bridget manipulated it, left her powerless. All she wanted was to cum, to shower her essence on Bridget’s face, then to apply her mouth to Bridget’s fabulous cunt. But to give in to the arousal necessarily meant giving into that other imperative. It meant seceding control to someone else, to Bridget, that which she normally reserved to herself. She held out, she tried to resist, but she knew she would lose.

“No … please … no … no … stop … don’t!”

There was a blinding light, which both constricted and filled her vision, followed by the roar of white water which, as it faded away, was replaced by the sound of her own groans. Her hands went to her head, fingers clenching at her hair, as she panted through the last of her orgasm. Finally there was the sensation of something rifling through her mind, she though of cards being shuffled, followed by a wave of vertigo.

When she regained her bearings, Sawyer was lying on her side. Bridget had found a change of cloths and was rapidly stuffing more clothing into a laundry bag. She watched Bridget work, thinking she’d never seen a more beautiful creature in all her life.

“Let me try to explain,” she began.

“Shut up!” Bridget snapped. It cut at Prof. Sawyer, deeply, to realize Bridget didn’t enjoyed what had just happened. “How many control spheres are there and where are they?”

“Two. They’re in the safe in the office.”

Bridget cinched the bag shut, “Get up and show me.”

Sawyer led the way, the pair moving at a brisk jog. The induction effect of the house, its ability to undue the conditioning of the control spheres, was taking hold; Bridget heard a chorus of screams rising in the mansion. What had been cries of arousal were now equally intense in horror. As best she could, Bridget ignored the wails and concentrated on her next, immediate steps: Secure the control spheres, find Victoria, Allie and Leslie, get away.

They made it to the office without incident. Sawyer opened the safe and handed over the spheres.

“What about me?”

“What about you?” Bridget spat as she thrust the spheres into the bag.

Sawyer explained, “I’m one of you now.”

Bridget shook her head. If Prof. Sawyer had never used the control sphere on herself, or made herself immune to its effect, that meant she’d been inducted. The implications of her as an inducted member of The Association were profound … but there wasn’t time to work them all out now.

“You wait here for someone to collect you,” Bridget said. “If you’re one of us now, you understand why you can never speak of The Association …”

Sawyer nodded.

For the sake of emphasis, Bridget repeated, “You can NEVER speak of The Association to anyone who hasn’t been inducted.”

“I won’t, I swear!”

Bridget had no idea if Sawyer would hold to that. All she knew was that, for now, it would have to do, “Then have a seat and wait for someone to come and get you.”

Bridget left, and Sawyer took the chair behind the desk.

“This is what it feels like to lose,” she thought as she stared at the bookcase.

Maura’s eyelids felt like lead and her eyeballs like brillo. Her head rolled drunkenly on her shoulders. She could feel herself dozing off … it was like slipping on ice in slow motion. Through force of will she pried her eyes open and snapped her head up. The clock on the dashboard read 4a, and Maura felt the weariness all over again. She’d been at it for almost 12 hours and she hadn’t seen a thing. She wasn’t even sure she’d recognize it if she did see it, and if she did, she had no idea what she was going to do about it. It would be so much easier to grab some sleep, maybe just an hour, and think it over when her brain wasn’t so addled.

A light snapped on in the Tastick Mansion, which Maura wouldn’t have found unusual had it not been followed immediately by two more. She held up her binoculars. The shades of the rooms were drawn, but she could make out the shadows of people moving to and fro within. By the time she lowered the glasses, every light in the mansion was ablaze. Maura got out of the car and jogged across the lot until she was directly across the street from the house. In the moonlight, she could make out movement in front of the house. Looking through the glasses again, she saw a mass of women pouring from the house’s front door. Maura ran across the street, she guessed there were 20-25 women now running for their lives down the drive.

She pounded on the door to the shack. The guard had been asleep, but now he jerked awake.

“Call 9-1-1, tell them there’s a problem up here and that an FBI agent is on the scene.”

The guard looked at her as if she’d sprouted a third head.

Maura pointed up the driveway, “Do it … NOW!”

The guard saw what was coming and reached for the phone.

Maura stepped into the middle of the drive; the first of the women were within 30 feet of her. Some of them wore light robes or underwear, most of them were naked. Maura knew they wouldn’t last long in the cold, but the women showed no sign of slowing down. She reached into her jacket, drew her weapon and fired two shots into the air. The women skidded to a halt.

“Federal Agent!” she yelled as she displayed her ID. “Everyone stay where they are!”

Silence, but for the sound of the wind. A chocking/gasping sound came from deep within the crowd, then all of the women began weeping. Maura herded them together.

Local PD was on the scene within two minutes, in the form of three cruisers. Maura flashed her ID at the first cop she saw.

“Get as many cars and ambulances up here quick as you can. We need to get them out of the cold …”

“The fuck?” the cop stared slack jawed at the mass of naked women.

“Focus!” Maura snapped. The cop tore himself away, “Cruisers, ambulances and lots of blankets, got it?”

The cop nodded.

“Good. Get these people out of the cold, but under NO circumstances are they to leave.”

The cop nodded again.

“Then have your people call the local FBI field office and tell them to get some agents up here immediately. Tell ‘em they’d better get Homeland Security up here also.”

“What the hell?”

“Listen,” Maura continued. “You gather up these women, and you get them warm. But do not question them. No one, and I mean no one, is to be questioned until the Feds get here. If any of your people start indulging their curiosity, it’s your ass!”

She didn’t wait for an answer, her point had been made. She ran for the house, pushed the front door open with her foot and crept in, arms extended, gun at the ready. The smell in the house was indescribable; Maura gagged and her eyes watered. The house echoed with the sounds of women alternately screaming and sobbing. She cocked her head … she couldn’t detect the telltale hiss of an activated control sphere, and considering all the background noise, she was reasonably sure it wouldn’t work anyway. Not according to what Janice had told her, at least. But was she willing to bet her freewill on it? Biting on her lower lip, she took another step into the house. Shadows moved along a wall at the top of the stairs. She could make out their whispered voices. Maura went up the stairs, quickly and silently. At the top, she pivoted 90 degrees to her left and into the hall, dropping to one knee.

“Freeze!” she yelled. Bridget and three other stood 15 feet away, all looking like their hearts were in their mouths.

“Christ, I’m sorry,” Maura holstered her gun and gave Bridget a hug.

“What are you doing here?”

“The waiting was driving me nuts. I’ve got some back up on the way,” Maura looked over the rest of the party, “Victoria?”

“Am I glad to see you,” Victoria spread her arms, eyes brimming with tears.

“Allie and Leslie, I presume?” she asked as Victoria hugged her.

The two girls nodded dully.

“Where are the control spheres?” Maura asked.

“She only had two. They’re both in here,” Bridget pulled clothing from a laundry bag, throwing the garments at Victoria, Leslie and Allie before handing the bag to Maura.

“Do you guys have a way of getting out of here without being seen?” Bridget nodded that she did. “Then I think you guys should take off. Call me on my cell when you’ve settled in somewhere.”

“I doubt I can get out of speaking to the police, considering what’s been going on in my own house. What’s our story?” Victoria asked.

Maura thought quickly, “Home invasion. If anyone asks, tell ‘em Prof. Sawyer and her crazies took over and you went along to stay alive.”

“You think they’ll buy that?”

“The story doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to buy us enough time to get these,” Maura held up the bag, “into the right hands. Once that happens, believe me, they’ll cover this thing up so deep it’ll never see the light of day again.”

Victoria nodded as everyone put on the cloths Bridget had given them.

“And where’s Prof. Sawyer?”

“I left her down in the office after I got the control spheres. We have to go that way to sneak out of here. Follow me,” Bridget led the way.

At the bottom of the stairs, Maura snuck a look out the front door. She counted seven cruisers now and an equal number of ambulances, along with fire engines and other rescue vehicles … as well as a few of the black Lincoln Continentals the Feds used. Time was becoming a factor … they’d begin searching the house anytime now.

“See if you can stall them, even for just five minutes,” Maura urged Victoria, who simply nodded and headed out the door.

Prof. Sawyer sat at what was, once again, Victoria’s desk. Maura entered first, weapon trained at Sawyer’s chest. The sitting woman made no move to explain, or rationalize or even hide; she just continued to stare at the bookcase to her left. Maura indicated the other three should follow her in. Bridget led them through the door on the other side of the room.

“I want you to stand up and come around to the front of the desk,” Maura ordered after the three had left. Sawyer did as she was told. “Kneel down and lace your fingers behind your head.”

Again, Sawyer did as she was told. Maura secured the first cuff on Sawyer’s right wrist and guided her arms down behind her back to secure the second. She lifted Sawyer to her feet then noticed a blanket on the nearby couch. She wrapped it around Sawyer’s shoulders and led her out of the office.

“You have the right to remain silent,” Maura began, stifling a laugh as she did. She’d always been a behind the scenes player. In all her years with the FBI, Prof. Sawyer was the first person Maura ever arrested.

She led Sawyer out of the house and down the drive. As they approached the guard shack, some of the Prof.’s former thralls noticed her and began screeching hate and invective. If Sawyer noticed, she gave no indication. Maura passed her off to a clean cut kid whose whole look screamed “Federal”.

“Isolate her. Don’t let her near any of the others,” Maura cautioned.

“Will do, ma’am,” the kid said and led Sawyer away.

An older looking Fed took the kid’s place, “You Hunt?”

Maura nodded.

“You mind telling me what the hell is going on here?”

Maura smiled ever so slightly, “Homeland Security here yet?”

Another older Fed stepped forward, hand raised, “Bob Loosey.”

Maura’s smile broke wide open. She placed the bag on the hood of a nearby car, “Loosey, you got some ‘splainin’ to do.”

“It’s nice things are getting back to normal,” Bridget thought as she drove past the guard shack to Victoria’s house; Chuck’s only reaction being a friendly wave hello. She parked in her usual spot and let herself in. She couldn’t detect the reek from Prof. Sawyer’s days anymore … and it had only taken a month and a half to clear the funk out!

“Yes,” she thought again, “definitely nicer.”

She found Victoria in her office, reviewing some notes. The older woman waved Bridget into a chair.

“Spring break next week, I see,” she began.

“Yup.”

“Got any plans?”

“I was thinking about a long weekend out of town. After that, play it by ear.”

“I think you should. Lord knows you’ve earned it.”

Bridget smiled. That went easier than she’d hoped, “What have we got today?”

Victoria’s agenda was brief: Reviewing how their Coven was reintegrating into The Association and how their girls were reintegrating into their Coven. All in all, Bridget and Victoria agreed, it could have been worse. Much worse.

“Which leaves only two issues,” Victoria concluded.

Bridget could only think of one, “Leslie?”

“Leslie,” Victoria confirmed.

Prof. Sawyer had claimed four members of their Coven: Leslie, Tammi, Allie and Victoria. All of them had eagerly chosen to return to The Association. All of them except Leslie.

“I’ve been speaking with the Covenheads,” Victoria continued. “They’d like to know what you think should be done about her.”

“Keep an eye on her,” Bridget said immediately, “but let her go.”

“Are you sure that’s wise?”

“I don’t know about wise. I think it’s the better of two bad choices,” Bridget said. “Let’s face it, she’s smart and she’s driven, so I don’t think there’s much we can offer her that she can’t get for herself, and she knows it. Plus she’s an Alpha female … she just isn’t cut out to take orders from you or me or anyone else. She’s got to do her thing, her way and she can’t do that with us.”

“You aren’t worried about someone not in The Association knowing about us?”

“Sure I am. But she’s smart enough to keep her mouth shut, and if she talks, who’s going to believe her?”

“The Covenheads felt much the same. Leslie will be allowed to go her own way,” Victoria said as she made a note in her log.

On a level that surprised her, Bridget felt happy for Leslie, “So, what’s the other issue?”

“The other issue, my dear, is you.”

Bridget blinked, “Me?”

Victoria nodded, “Everyone’s please, of course, that things are getting back to normal so quickly, but the Covenheads feel some changes need to be made here. I’ll be staying on, at least until you finish school, but my role will be more like an advisor.”

She paused to gather herself, “As of right now, however, you are the new Covenhead.”

“No!” Bridget exploded. “That isn’t fair. What happened was not your fault!”

“No one is saying it was my fault,” Victoria replied. “But there’s a sense that I’ve been … compromised and I don’t disagree with that view.”

“But I’m not ready.”

“Bridget, there’s very little left that I can teach you. And as to out late crisis, you showed courage, you showed initiative, you showed creativity and you showed wisdom, more than I did, certainly. Those are qualities anyone would want in a leader.”

Bridget felt miserable, “But I don’t want it.”

“Dear, the decision has already been made,” Victoria said kindly. “This is what you’ve been groomed for since I met you. I know you thought you’d build a coven of your own. I thought so also. But we need you here. There’s no one else who can do this.”

Bridget cast a helpless glance out the window. It was inescapable.

The doctors the government people had referred her to helped, so did the pills the doctors gave her for when she felt stressed. She talked once a week with the doctors about what happened to her and how she was going to get past it. She felt like she was getting past it. Then she’d seen something, and heard some other things, and Cindy realized that whatever healing was going on, there were things she was avoiding, things she felt deep in her soul, and these things needed to be confronted.

It began with her younger sister on a Friday night. Cindy had moved back home afterwards; it was just her, her mother and her Holly now. Her older sister, Laurie, had moved out years ago and was trying to put that life back together on her own. Her father was living in an apartment across town … her parents marriage had been one of the casualties of what she now called the “whole Prof. Sawyer thing”.

Cindy had stayed in that night, it was easier for her that way. She was watching movies when a car pulled into the drive way, its headlights traced a path across the darkened living room, but there’d been no following sound of doors opening and closing, no one calling “good bye” or “good night”. Curious, Cindy had peeked out a front window. She recognized the car, it belonged to Holly’s friend Elizabeth. She recognized Holly and Elizabeth in the car, locked in a clinch and sharing the kind of kiss lovers gave each other. Cindy ran back to the couch, focused on the movie and successfully beat down the yearnings that were so much a part of her privacy lately.

She watched Holly closely over the next few days. Of all the women in her family, she’d suspected Holly was dealing the best with their shared trauma. She seemed to be the one most rapidly recovering her strength, her normalcy, her equilibrium. And, Cindy now noticed, she was spending a lot of time with Elizabeth.

The second thing came during a phone call to Laurie. There’d been no agenda, no secret purpose; she’d just wanted to chat with her sister. And they had been chatting right up to the moment Cindy heard a female voice in the background ask if Laurie wanted to go out for dinner or stay in. The last part had been said in a way that promised something far more. Cindy had recognized the voice, it came back to Cindy in a rush, that day at Gracie’s house when her sisters and her mother had been taken. Dana had taken Laurie.

Dana … sucking at Laurie’s box … and Laurie unable to stop her … not wanting to stop her … Dana … with that adorable little tuft of hair right over her puss … and that round ass ... and the thick auburn hair … and those gorgeous tits …

In the silent interval, Laurie realized Cindy had heard and remembered. She excused herself quickly and hung up.

The final thing came a few days later, when she’d gone to the State Forest, expecting to spend the day. She usually found the long walks among the trees calming, but she hadn’t been feeling it that day, and she’d cut the trip short. Her Mom’s car was in the driveway when she got home, but there was nothing unusual in that. What had been unusual was her Mom being so hard to find. She wasn’t in the kitchen, or the living room, or the laundry. Cindy went upstairs, close enough now to hear the noises coming from her mother’s bedroom: The squeak of the springs, the bang of the headboard and the cries of a woman loving how she was being fucked, a woman being fucked by Cindy’s mother.

“Oh God … Oh my God … Yes Maddie … Like that, yes … Oh God … Where did you learn THAT!”

The others had made their choice and now it was time for hers.

She chose to drive north, three hours, to the college town where it all began for her, to the little house off campus where she’d spent so much time after it all began.

“Go away,” Gracie hissed when she saw Cindy and tried to close the door.

Cindy jammed her foot against the door, “I just want to talk.”

“No!”

“Please,” Cindy begged. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Gracie stopped pushing, but gave no ground, “It isn’t real … it was all her!”

She knew what Gracie meant by “her”. The Prof. Sawyer Thing, “It isn’t all her. Every time I thing about her I want to throw up, but that’s not how I feel when I think about you.”

Cindy could hear Gracie’s breathing, “I miss you, and I know you miss me too … I know it! Can’t we please just talk about it?”

The resistance behind the door slackened and Cindy stepped inside. Gracie looked at her with a melancholy smile. Cindy returned it with real smile, bright and wide. She held out her arms. Gracie stepped into them.

Bridget shifted the pack slung over her shoulder and whistled absentmindedly as the elevator made its way up. She stepped out when the doors opened and looked the hallway over carefully. Same rug … same wallpaper, not that she’d really expected any drastic changes. She’d been gone less than two months. It was just that when she’d left the Lexington Hotel, she was sure she’d never come back. But she was looking forward to this. Somehow her surrounding should have reflected that. But they didn’t.

The room was halfway down the hall. Bridget knocked, then wondered why she did, considering she’d been given a key at the front desk.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me. C’mon, let me in. I’m tired.”

Maura wore only a sheer negligee, a blunt indication of what she had in mind for their long weekend together. Bridget altogether approved, especially when Maura pulled her into the room, gathered her up and planted an emphatically non-platonic kiss on the redhead’s mouth.

“Congratulations on your promotion, by the way,” she purred before they kissed again.

Afterwards. After the dinner, after the show and after the sex, as they lay panting and sweaty on the bed, Maura ran her hand along Bridget’s hip.

“What’s on your mind?”

“What makes you think something is on my mind?”

“You’ve seemed kind of distant all night.”

“I’m sorry,” Bridget whispered and rolled on her side to look at Maura.

“It’s okay, I’m not mad. Just curious.”

“Heard anything about Prof. Sawyer lately?”

Maura laughed, “Not a thing, and that’s no accident. I doubt they’ll risk anything as messy or public as an indictment, let alone a trial. I’m sure, by now, they’ve found her a very pleasant, very comfortable place to live in the middle of nowhere and she’ll be allowed to live pleasantly and comfortably for however long she decided to help them make control spheres or until they figure out how to make them without her help. After that …”

Maura shrugged, “… who knows? One way or another, we’ve heard the last of her. Why do you ask?”

“I’ve been thinking about her lately … a lot.”

“And?”

Bridget sighed heavily, “And I’m thinking we really aren’t that different or better than she was.”

“That isn’t true! You of all people should know better!”

“It’s because I know better that I think it may be true.”

“We’re completely different.”

“How? Because I’m not seeing it.”

“We’re different because The Association doesn’t turn people into slaves,” Maura said. “We’re different because we reward out people and open doors for them, we’re different because we give our people choices …”

“Choices,” Bridget repeated. “That’s an interesting word. Did The Association give you a choice when they inducted you? Did they give me one? No. They just took what they wanted and the reason the Covenheads are so bent out of shape over the whole Prof. Sawyer thing is they don’t like the shoe on the other foot. And even after all of that, they didn’t give me a choice when they made me a Covenhead. I just had to take it. And did you know they’re actually talking about inducting some of the women Prof. Sawyer captured, like these people haven’t been through enough already. They haven’t learned a thing.”

“Okay,” Maura nodded reasonably. “But The Association gave Victoria, Allie, Tammi and Leslie the choice to come back and 3 out of four took it. With those kind of odds, we can’t be all bad.”

“I’m not saying we’re all bad, just that there are a few lessons from this whole thing we could be absorbing, but we aren’t,” Bridget replied. “And if three out of four women will freely choose to join us, then why can’t we do that all the time? When we need to recruit, why can’t we just show the girls what we’re about and ask them to decide.”

“I don’t know,” Maura smiled and gave Bridget a fortifying kiss, “but you’re asking the wrong person. You’re a Covenhead now, you can do something about it.”

Maura snuggled up against Bridget and in a few seconds was asleep. For the longest time, before she fell asleep, Bridget stared at the ceiling and felt wholly inadequate to the task she’d been given.