The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

My return caused enough panic for people to cut corners, which were better left rounded. I did not have time to step into a much-needed shower before the wolves arrived at my hotel room door.

I turned when the door opened and studied the women who entered. Twins were an elegant touch, brunettes with dark brown eyes. Five years had passed since my last woman so I appreciated the effort spent on tempting me to lower my guard.

“May I help you?” I asked.

“Are you Jason, the Director’s Hope?” the one on the right asked. They reached for each other to hold hands tightly, as if the question drained their courage.

“Yes,” I replied after taking time to study them. Their bodies were symmetrical, with curves no amount of athleticism could make unfeminine. They wore clothing that hugged the relevant parts and hung loosely everywhere else.

“You’re back,” the one on the left said. I nodded and turned to stare out the window.

“What are your names?”

“Can’t you read our minds?” they asked at the same time.

“With lovers, I prefer proper introductions,” I replied.

“We’re not here to...”

“I know why you’re here,” I said turning and leaning back against the window. “I have a better use for you.”

“You can’t...”

“By law, I can,” I said. “I’m glad they sent two; one would have it rough.”

“I don’t understand!” the one on the right said.

“You’ve been programmed not to,” I told them. They turned to look at each other in fear.

“Put the knives down, ladies,” I ordered, reinforcing it with a directive through my jacks. Stilettos were drawn from sheathes sewn into their clothing. They walked to the bed and stabbed the blades into the headboard.

“We didn’t know,” they said, stepping away from the bed. I nodded; their programming was excellent but not everything had been as carefully done.

“Let me help,” I said.

I jacked them into each other and reconstructed what had been done from the bits and pieces left behind in each. Not only was the mind-wipe sloppy, but it had been a mistake to choose two girls, one would not have been enough to build a complete picture.

They fell to their knees as I finished weaving their memories together. The men in their lives enjoyed seeing them like that, on their knees with tears staining their cheeks. There was beauty in it, but nothing like when I used my jacks to inject them with thin rivulets of pleasure.

“How could they do that to us?!?”

“What are your names?” I asked again.

“Mary.”

“Magdalene.”

“What are you doing to me?” Mary asked curiously.

“I’m blocking your mind from processing what has been done to you,” I replied. “You need an Empathic to help you cope, but I need to... I need.”

“A Positive did this to us,” Magdalene said glancing at the knives.

“Telepathic programming to kill,” I told them. “She did a good job. Blanking your conscious awareness is a subtle addition; most don’t bother, instead relying on the lack of hesitation to land the strike.”

“What are you going to do with us?” Mary asked.

“I want your bodies,” I replied. “Then we’ll go downstairs and see what the penalty for that is.”

They did not understand, but I had not expected them to. I pushed their worries aside and made them aware of my jack as a bolt of pleasure lancing down their spinal column. They had been used before with no attention to their pleasure. I did not have the patience for unselfishness so I chose the hammer instead of the razor.

“Come with me,” I said and walked into the bathroom. Like with many things, I had not been clean for a long time.

I linked the girls to each other and myself in a triangle-loop; the excitement each felt would increase the other’s but not as much as my pleasure would increase theirs. I used my jacks as leading reins so they knew exactly what I wanted and did it without words needing to be exchanged.

I wanted the twins naked so as soon as they stepped into the bathroom, they began to remove clothing slowly; Magdalene took Mary’s clothes off, and Mary returned the favor. I guided them to take mine off without me being consciously aware of anything but the desire to remove the clothing I had worn for three months straight.

Mary stepped into the shower and turned it on. She did not flinch as the cold water hit her; she adjusted the temperature to what she knew I wanted and let it wash over her body. Magdalene stroked my dick as her sister painted herself with water. Mary turned and leaned against the back wall in an open invitation to join her.

The water and heat felt good; months of sweat and dirt sloughed down to stain the white of the shower floor. The twins put soapy hands on me and chased away the filth that would not go willingly. I knelt down, and Magdalene pulled my head back to wash my hair while Mary applied another layer of soap on me.

They took a step back, like I wanted, and let me enjoy the water taking away the last five years of my life for a few minutes. I did what was necessary, but even I could wish it had not been.

Magdalene pressed up against my back while Mary came around front. Magdalene pushed her body against mine, and Mary brought my face down for a kiss. Their hands met at my dick, and they used fleeting touches to excite me nearly to the point of emptying myself.

Mary kissed her way down my chest. Magdalene wrapped her arms around my torso and pulled me backwards. It pushed my dick towards Mary, who took it into her mouth.

Their minds were intertwined with mine; their need was my need; my pleasure was theirs.

Mary stroked me with her hands and mouth almost violently. Magdalene dragged her nails across my chest. When it came, my release was almost absolution.

The twins could not handle the feedback striking them through the loop. Mary fell back; Magdalene released me and stepped away. My dick shot cum onto Mary making her convulse as she experienced an orgasm for the first time in her life. Magdalene screamed behind me, crumbling against my legs. A second shot of cum hit Mary and through the jacks I felt them lose consciousness.

“Get dressed,” I said when they came to. I wanted more time with them, but it would have to wait until we arrived at the Institute. There were people coming for me and others waiting to see what happened with the twins.

Everyone turned towards us when the elevator doors opened, and we stepped into the hotel lobby. There was disappointment on the faces of three men. A couple of others stepped forward with holo-cameras on their shoulders; my return was newsworthy but the excitement on their faces said they expected more.

“What did you do to my sisters?” the youngest of the three men said.

“This is the best you could do?” I asked the one wearing the robe of a New Christian priest.

“Mary, Magdalene,” the oldest male said looking behind me. “Did this monster hurt you?!?”

“I expected better from Abbas Matthew,” I said looking into one of the cameras, knowing he would be watching. “But New Christians like sending lambs to the slaughter.”

I tossed the stilettos the women had been armed with at the father and brother.

“Elijah will be here any minute,” I said to them.

The twins were a distraction; the real focus of the attack was the men. Their training was Telepathic-aided; no one else could move as smoothly and work together so seamlessly.

But they were still human.

I moved to the left so the boy, who was a hair quicker, stepped in front of his father. I danced outside the reach of his blade and passed him while sliding my knife on the inside of his thigh. I kept going, under the blade of his father and behind him. My knife penetrated at the base of the man’s skull, stabbing into his spinal cord. I turned and moved to stand over the brother. I stepped on his knife hand and watched life pour out of his femoral artery.

I took a deep breath before looking at everyone in the room.

“You are a monster!” the priest said from behind me.

“I don’t think you really believe that,” I said. “If you were going to make a monster, wouldn’t you make it something to fear?”

I walked up to him slowly. He tried to move; my jack ordered his body to disobey.

“If you really believed the Director created a monster, you would have run when they told you to try this.”

I put my hand over his forehead and slid it down to close his eyes.

“I’ll give you the time for a last prayer, priest,” I whispered into his ear.

“You can’t tell me that wasn’t murder,” Elijah said from the door.

I pushed the arm of the priest’s robe up to expose his hand.

“The feint, the strike, and the subtle knife,” I said nodding at the twins, the fallen father and brother, and to the dead priest. “Abbas Matthew has certain preferences.”

“I don’t get it,” Elijah said. “Not one confrontation with the New Christian Church in five years; your ship docked less than two hours ago and already a dead priest.”

Being the Operative the Director drew when a situation got ugly aged Elijah prematurely.

“The ladies are coming with me,” I told the room and used the jacks to direct the women outside. Elijah raised an eyebrow.

“They did their job,” I told him. “It’s not their fault their men couldn’t.”

“Someone had reason to believe the men could?” Elijah asked holding the door open for me.

“Telepathic trained,” I said.

“Who?” Elijah asked in an angry voice.

“An Operative,” I replied.

“Not one of mine,” he said between his teeth.

“Before your time,” I said.

“There’s only...”

“It’s my responsibility, Elijah.”

He opened the grav-car door for me, and I sat inside. The twins had company in the backseat.

“And you are?” I asked the woman.

“Eleanor is my Watcher,” Elijah answered, getting into the driver’s seat.

“What’s a Watcher?”

“You don’t know,” Elijah asked surprised. “I thought you kept in touch with the Director and Sarah.”

“I don’t think the President considers us important enough to mention to the legendary Jason while he’s doing his master’s bidding,” Eleanor said with no inflection to her voice.

“Legendary?” I asked.

“I have to admit to disappointment,” she told me. “I was expecting sharper teeth.”

“My brother and father probably thought his teeth were sharp enough,” Mary said.

“At least, his knife,” Magdalene added.

“And then there’s the dead priest,” Elijah snorted. Eleanor stared at me for a few seconds before looking out the grav-car window.

“You should try to be more like your mentor, Elijah,” she said.

“Taking a sabbatical was a good idea, Jason,” Elijah said, ignoring her. “The God Apart Cult has grown and so have the Zealots. I was free to recruit because the Church hasn’t tried anything with me, like they did in the hotel.”

“It wouldn’t be worth it,” I said. “You might be the leader of the Institute Zealots, but you’re human.”

“While something as inhuman as Jason lives, there’s no point in trying to bring you down, lover,” the Eleanor said to Elijah.

“So what is a Watcher?” I asked her.

“An illusion to let people think they have some say in the nastier things Operatives do,” she replied smiling.

“What’s the point?” I asked.

“Between Eleanor and me,” Elijah said laughing, “I’m the reasonable one.”

“You’re too gentle, my love,” Eleanor said softly. “I’m glad Jason’s back. The Director is right—survival shouldn’t be left to chance.”

“All the Watchers are that crazy,” Elijah said starting the grav-car. “I can’t wait to see who Sarah hand-picked for you. Someone who can make Jason seem reasonable? I’ll remember not to piss her off.”

“Are all Watchers women?” I asked.

“We’re paired by sexual preference,” Eleanor replied. “You’ll be assigned a woman. You have to love a President who takes the time to play matchmaker. Obviously, Sarah has her priorities straight.”

“Why have you been gone so long?” Elijah asked carefully.

“I had large mess to clean up,” I said and closed my eyes.

He was waiting at the entrance to the Institute grounds. I knelt beside his grav-chair.

“You haven’t been eating,” he said. “Is it done?”

I nodded.

“How many children are you behind now?” he asked.

“I stopped counting, sir.”

“I was afraid of that,” he said. “Take a week off, Jason.”

“An Operative programmed assassins to kill me,” I told him.

“I saw the holo-cast,” he replied. “She can wait. Take those lovely ladies and lock yourself in a bedroom.”

“Yes, sir.”

The twins had a busy three days between nights with me and days being rebalanced by Empathics. It would have been a busy week, except that on the fourth morning the shepherd’s flock stampeded.

The Scream cut into my sleep; I got out of bed after putting the twins down hard and dressed in my grays. Outside the door, the hallway was full of Positives.

“Go back to bed,” I said.

“There was something wrong with that Scream, Jason,” a Telepathic said.

“I think it was a baby,” another said.

I nodded and walked past them. Elijah and two other Operatives waited with the Director in the main conference room.

“I’m sorry, son,” the Director said. “I’m going to have to cut your vacation short.”

“Sir, the Scream came from a baby,” an Operative said. Elijah had mentored both Operatives in the room.

The door opened behind me; Eleanor and two men entered.

“I heard the Scream,” Eleanor said sitting down. “I’ve been hit with a couple on case files; this didn’t feel anything like those.”

“It was a baby,” Elijah said.

“But a baby can’t...” she stopped and looked at the Director.

“Only Pheromonics manifest solely upon bio-sexual maturity,” he informed her. “Empathics and Symbolics need other things to occur.”

“Empathics need to achieve some level of emotional maturity,” Elijah said. “Symbolics have to come to an understanding about the world around them.”

“But what about Simon?” a Watcher asked.

“A Symbolic’s mental language needs to describe their world, not yours,” I said. “Entire books have been written about death; Simon needed one word, ‘Gone’.”

“You didn’t include Telepathics in your explanation,” Eleanor said, staring at the Director warily.

“Telepathics develop in two stages,” the Director told her. “In the first stage, they are only able to communicate with others of their kind. The second stage allows them to exercise their power on anyone.”

“Is that a theory?” she asked.

“It was,” he said. “One out of five hundred thousand people is born Positive, but it’s almost one in five million for a Telepathic. With those odds, we needed a Telepathic child to be born within the walls of the Institute to prove my theory.”

“Amada’s daughter in the Asia-Institute,” Elijah said to Eleanor.

“A secret?” she asked him between her teeth. Eleanor was smart enough not to question the Institute keeping secrets, but Elijah had no excuse in her mind. “We had a talk about those.”

“I tell you mine,” he replied staring at her hard. “Not the Institute’s or anyone else’s.”

“Amada’s daughter gave every Telepathic migraines with her complaints about being taken out of her mother’s tummy,” an Operative added, trying to hide a smile.

“Except for Operatives, Telepathics tend to stay near the Institute,” the Director said. “So, unlike Amada’s daughter, they don’t get the opportunity to develop their mental voices as children.”

“I’m not Telepathic, but I heard the baby’s Scream,” Eleanor argued.

“A certain amount of trauma is needed to push a Telepathic into their development stages,” the Director said. “Birth takes care of the first, further trauma is required to force a Telepathic into the second.”

“But that would mean every Telepathic needs to suffer to come into their power,” she said.

“Being a teenager can be pretty rough,” Elijah said gently.

“Tell them,” I said.

“The tests are run the way they are because a Telepathic is required at each,” he said to the Watchers.

“We Scream in a mental range only Telepathics can hear,” an Operative said. “Anyone who reacts is one of us.”

“If they’re not second stage, we take care of it,” the other Operative finished.

“If this baby is manifesting this early, he or she is suffering!” Eleanor said connecting the dots.

“Suffered,” I said.

“This can’t be the only child to have ever suffered badly enough to be pushed into their next stage of Telepathic development,” Eleanor said, ignoring the implication of my words.

“The child abuse laws,” the Director said. She leaned back and stared at the ceiling.

“They’re so strict it requires a psychological pathology to break them,” she said. “Combined with the Institute profiling for hopeful parents, there are very few incidents. Considering the odds of being Positive and on top of them the odds of being Telepathic, it is possible it never happened before.”

“Santos,” the Director said in a toneless voice. “His experiences and full Telepathic maturity at eight is what made my wife shove those laws down the throat of any politician she got her mind into.”

“What are we going to do?” a Watcher asked.

“I jacked into the baby,” I said. “I don’t know where she died, but I know what it looks like.”

“She’s dead?” he asked. I chose not to repeat myself.

“The inside of a house isn’t going to do much good,” Eleanor said after a few seconds.

“She was stoned in the town square,” I replied. “They knocked her unconscious before I could jack from her to someone else.”

“If non-Telepathics heard it, the range is limited, at least somewhat,” Elijah said.

“She had power, Elijah,” an Operative said.

“We can query federal employees to get a search circle,” Eleanor said.

“She might have shouted directionally,” Elijah warned.

“Don’t bother,” I told them. “I’ll do this alone; I want to give the storm time to gather.”

“What do you mean?” Eleanor asked.

“They wanted a war,” my Creator replied. “My son wanted a crusade.”

It was a beautiful day: a cloudless sky with a crowning sun, a cool breeze from the north, the air smelled of spring standing victorious over the last vestiges of winter.

I walked through the middle of the main street while eyes followed me, their hatred palpable. The brave ones formed a group behind me as I entered the Children’s Cemetery.

She was buried next to the only tree in the small plot of land. A New Christian priest, head bowed in prayer, knelt at the foot of her grave.

“So tell me, priest,” I said. “Who has it the worst? A man of faith who loses it, or a man of the cloth who finds it.”

He looked behind me to see the entire town had found the courage to face someone bigger than a newborn.

“Go home!” he shouted at them.

“What’s he doing here?” someone yelled back. I stabbed the shovel into the ground and started digging.

“How dare you!” the priest screamed.

“I mean no offense by undoing your work,” I said looking at him. “I need physical evidence to punish the people involved. I must admit surprise at needing a shovel.”

“She was just a baby,” he replied with tears forming.

“Put the shovel down!” someone said, cocking a shotgun. I sighed and extended a hand. The shotgun was deposited into it. I took the time to study it; it was an antique unlike my own gun, which was a faithful re-creation using modern manufacturing. I shot the man who had given me the order. Before tossing it aside, I emptied the shotgun into him.

After a quick study of the crowd, I pointed to a young woman and waved her forward. She weaved through the crowd until she stood in front me.

“You can’t do this to us,” a man in the front shouted at me. His eyes were terrified as his body refused run away from me.

“The penalty for child abuse is death,” I said. “It requires physical and Telepathic confirmation, if both are available the sentence is automatic.”

Everyone in the crowd could hear my words through the jacks in their minds.

“You can’t tell who killed her!” the mother of the baby spat at me.

“Anyone who did not throw a stone is free to go,” I replied.

No one moved.

“The girl suffered before she died,” I told them. “You will too.”

Everyone except the priest and I collapsed. Their mouths opened to let out screams of pain but made no sound.

“Why spare me?” the priest asked.

“You dug the girl’s grave with your hands,” I said. “Pain would be a sanctuary from your crisis of cloth.”

“There are cameras watching,” he told me.

“It wouldn’t be much of a trap without them,” I said and looked at the grave. The work would be hot; I decided musical accompaniment was called for and turned the screams on.

I took my time.

Opening the casket made the priest crawl away to retch.

“You didn’t have to make me look,” he said finally. “I put her in there.”

“I’m sorry,” I told him. “I’m not human, so there are moments of awkward social behavior. No one told me justice couldn’t be fun. I’ll remember that punishing the murderers of children is a somber event.”

The screams died suddenly; the priest looked at the townsfolk.

“I have the body, and I have the confession of their minds,” I said. “The sentence is death.”

“Why don’t you get it over with?” the priest asked when the strongest recovered enough to look around.

I did not reply.

He ministered to his congregation as more shook off the effects of my punishment. The ones who understood what was still to come knelt in prayer. I did not let anyone beg for his or her life.

“How did they know the child was Telepathic?” I asked the priest when he was done.

“You like to play games, don’t you?” he asked angrily. I patted my earcell.

“The public Operative case files,” he sighed and nodded. “Answer this first, how did the girl manage to Scream?”

“The child abuse laws are for your protection also. It’s not a good idea to harm a child,” I replied. “They might harm back. You were unlucky that she cried for her mother instead of lashing out.”

“Is that what she did?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I replied. “Maybe it was your God she cried out to.”

He nodded.

“The Zealot Operative, Elijah, visited us with his Watcher,” he said. “They entertained themselves in town for a couple of days. As instructed by the Church, I used the incident and the pregnancy to... I didn’t know they would go this far.”

“You pushed for ten months, priest,” I said. “Where did you expect this to end?”

He fell to his knees.

“I would have liked to let you live; you would have suffered more,” I said. “Unfortunately, the murder of his daughter could make it necessary for me to kill an Operative they already speak of in the same tone as Santos.”

I shot him in the head and turned towards the townsfolk. I pulled the jacks out of them and jacked back into them painfully. They were adult babies when I finished my first wave of manipulations, innocent but with a full understanding of their pain.

Their mother threw the first stone.

Their mother threw the stone that killed them.

Unsurprisingly, it took time for the others to build up the bravado to come for me. The reporters were first, but they were more interested in close-ups of the bodies than asking me questions. When I did not kill the reporters, the federal agents felt it safe to approach me.

“You murdered a whole town,” an agent said.

“I’m glad to see your talents were not wasted,” I told him. He was the agent whose spying I reported to Jacob.

“I’ve waited a long time for this,” he said almost crowing. “You’ve gone too far. The Director and the President cannot keep you from justice now.”

“Is it the townspeople Abbas Matthew and his political allies expected me to kill or all of you?” I asked meeting his eyes.

Every agent took a step back and put a hand on their weapons. I shook my head.

“Lead,” I said. “I am a willing lamb.”

I stood chained by my wrists to a small platform. The politicians were speechifying for the holo-cameras. Abbas Matthew’s view of justice did not seem to include anyone speaking for the condemned.

The roll call of politicians and supporters of the Institute who had seen the light and therefore needed to show avid and public support for the Church gave me time to try getting used to the orange prisoner’s jumpsuit. I had seen the Institute tapes of the Director taking me out of my incubation chamber, and Sarah wrapping me in a blanket of Operative gray. The trial was the first time I remembered wearing anything else.

Finally, the politicians wound down and Abbas Matthew stood. He was not a man to gainsay advantage so he did it slowly as if age bore him down; the act faltered some when he walked towards me with strong steps.

“Are we certain he is contained?” the Abbas asked over his shoulder.

“Every Operative and Operative candidate from the Institute, the Asia-Institute, and the Euro-Institute is holding him in place, Abbas,” Elijah said. “It is enough, even for Jason.”

“Can you trust him?” I asked, leaning towards the Abbas. “You did kill his daughter.”

He slapped me.

“Silence, spawn of Satan!” he said with fire and brimstone.

“I should have killed you sooner,” I told him.

“God protected me.”

“I guess that’s true. My Creator had more important things for me to do, and it kept you breathing,” I replied and went back to studying the horrible color I was wearing.

The Abbas was an incredible orator with natural rhythm, a beautiful flow of words, and a voice that rose slowly towards a towering crescendo. It helped that he probably rewrote the speech several hundred times praying for this day to come.

“What has this abomination been doing for these last five years?” he shouted at his audience near the end. “Why are we kept in the dark about the Director’s instruction to his—his—, this thing which calls itself the Director’s creation?”

“Killing Positives,” I replied. He froze, unsure of himself. The curiosity was naked in his eyes but to ask would distract from the climax of his speech.

“My trials are quicker,” I explained. “I don’t have to ask questions.”

“What?” he asked. “He sent you to...”

“Kill Positives,” I said. “I’ve spent the last five years killing Positives in countries outside the world-regional reach of the three Institutes.”

“But why? They are...”

“In the eyes of my God, they were sinners,” I interrupted. “Not all of them exhibited the hubris and cruelty of minor deities, but the ones who did are dead now.”

“How many?”

“There were countries I walked from one end to the other killing every Positive,” I said. “Some tried to flee into the ocean, but it did not put them out of my reach. Those I drowned though.”

“But why would you do this? They were God’s tools, tasked with the continuation of his greatest creation!”

“Because I knew I had to turn around and give their victims a merciful death,” I replied. “It did not seem enough to just kill them; I wanted them to suffer some of the pain they brought into this world.”

“That’s not what I meant!” the Abbas yelled.

“Oh! I understand,” I said smiling and looking into the holo-cameras for the first time. “I was sent from this Garden, the Director made for you, to bring justice to those Positives who forgot their humanity.”

“You and your father go to far!” the Abbas whispered in horror. “You go too far!”

“I gave mercy to thousands for every Positive I hunted down in my Creator’s name,” I said.

“I have seen a man with her power, considered the weakest,” I continued pointing to Lucinda, “erect an altar of Abraham and make women pour their children’s blood on it to be his. Speak to me of too far, priest, when you have lived the least of what I witnessed these past five years.”

“I SAID HE WAS TO BE STRIPPED OF HIS UNIFORM!” the Abbas screamed at Elijah. I had discarded the orange.

The Operative studied my uniform and shrugged. He preferred to see me in gray even if it meant the Abbas spent a few breaths ranting and raving at him.

“It does not matter what you wear, demon,” the Abbas said turning back to me. “Your maker has abandoned you. The Institute has abandoned you. Your time on this world has come to end. I will set everything right in God’s name.”

“But even Satan can speak truth,” he said turning to his audience. “Positives can turn against God’s mission. The Institute and its sexual privilege guarantee it. It has made them sinners, taking advantage of the gifts God gave them to serve us.”

“Only the Church can guide them in God’s work!” he pronounced.

The chains holding me in place struck the ground, making an almost musical sound. The Abbas turned in time to see me step off the platform and point to the left edge of the audience. As my hand moved to the right edge, I made everyone I had jacked aware of my backing out of their mind. To all of them, the political hall changed to the Institute auditorium; the politicians became a gathering of all Institute Positives; the Operatives and Operative candidates from other Institutes disappeared to leave Elijah and the Operatives he mentored surrounding Lianne.

Elijah’s face flowed from the serenity of accepted duty that the Abbas imagined to one of destructive hatred aimed at the Church. Eleanor’s hand on his arm seemed to be the only thing that stopped him from storming the stage to kill the Abbas.

Most of the holo-reporters dropped their cameras; the Abbas took a few steps back while his entourage looked around madly. I waited for the holo-reporters to recover their instincts and point the cameras at me.

“Can you imagine what your sheep have thought during these weeks of my ‘captivity’, priest?” I asked without looking at the Abbas. “Listening to sermons shouted from Church pulpits, hearing the reporters talking about my prison uniform and my shackles, and yet their eyes saw...”

“The truth,” I said turning towards him. “You are right; Positives are something to be feared. I have walked across miles populated by soulless flesh a Telepathic called his kingdom so I know better than any of you how much they are to be feared.”

I turned and walked to stand in front of the Abbas.

“You are evil,” he whispered.

“Kneel, priest,” I ordered after jacking into him. He collapsed at my feet.

“It was never Erotic Mind Control Positive,” I said. “The sex was a reward the Director convinced you to give, and them to accept for not—.”

I sighed and stroked the man’s cheek.

“It was always about power but you knew that, didn’t you?” I asked. “It’s why you want control of the Institute.”

I turned at looked at the cameras.

“Now that they have watched the Church and holo-press dance at the end of my marionette strings, I hope they understand. I have shown them power, and what it would be like to live in the world of one man’s creation.”

“You are not a man,” the Abbas said.

“No, I am not,” I said kneeling with him.

“You are nothing,” he whispered. “God hates you! You have don’t even have a soul. You will not escape God’s justice, demon. He will strike you down!”

I grabbed the Abbas’s face in both hands and squeezed.

“I’ve always wondered who had it better or worse, priest,” I said smiling. “You walk this earth asking ‘Why am I here?’ Your priests say what they do is a ‘calling’ yet in someone like you, at your center where God should be, I find doubt. I can walk into his office, kneel, cry out ‘Lord, I beseech thee, what is my Purpose?’, and he replies.”

“He is no God,” the Abbas said spitting in my face.

“But you have never looked upon the face of God and seen disappointment at your failures,” I continued. “Disappointed, not in you, but himself for not making you better than those failures and forcing you to suffer for his inadequacies.”

I sat back and made him feel like I was invading every part of his being with my jack.

“The day will come, priest, when I will know your doubt,” I said. “I find it unfair I will experience that, but none of you will ever feel the smallest part of what I have.”

I put my hand over his heart and shoved what it meant to be a flawed creation in the eyes of your God into him.

He screamed.

I stood up and watched him writhe around while continuing to scream in despair for a few minutes. I turned and climbed down from the stage to stand face to face with Elijah. He continued looking over my shoulder at the Abbas.

“I cannot have children, nor do I feel the things you do,” I told him. “The only vengeance you will have is what I have already given you—except this.”

I extended my gun to him. He took it and walked past me. I grabbed Eleanor’s arm as she tried to follow him onto the stage. Our eyes met; she understood how it would end if Elijah did not let it die there.

“His salvation lies in the reflection he sees in your mind,” I told her. She nodded and walked to stand beside Elijah.

I almost killed you after the twins, Lianne.

BASTARD!

You were usefully subtle at the beginning, but the more lead I gave, the sloppier you became. I had to improvise those ‘weeks of captivity’ to make up for your flawed work or I might not have gotten my point across. ‘Spawn of Satan’! Did you have to let the idiot write his own lines? I’m disappointed in you, Lianne.

You knew! YOU USED ME!

The gunshot from the stage made me turn around. Eleanor had her hands wrapped around Elijah’s; she helped him pull the trigger and empty the gun into the Abbas.

Another generation or two, and the Church could have grabbed what you made them reach for too soon, Lianne.

“You were a good Operative once,” I said kissing her forehead. The holo-cameras moved to give the audience a view of the Operative-to-Operative confrontation.

“I did God’s work,” Lianne said, exactly like I instructed her to through my jack.

Had I allowed the Church the time, destroying it might have taken the Institute down. I don’t need the Institute to fulfill my God’s Will, but it would make a fitting monument to him.

I reached down and pulled Lianne’s weapon from its holster.

Not an easy problem to solve. I was about to resort to snuffing the brighter lights in the priesthood when you triggered the shields I maintain on the Director.

What shields?!?

“You have enabled so many transgressions by the Church, Lianne,” I said meeting her eyes. “An Operative so diligent in stamping that kind of thing out, and YOU helped a father rape his daughters, a brother rape his sisters.”

I gestured towards Mary and Magdalene. Some of the holo-interviews had been real even if the content was not what Church bureaucracy and reporters heard.

“The Abbas was right!” she yelled at me. “You are evil! Whatever had to be done to destroy you, God would have forgiven!”

I killed my first Positive when I was three years old. He was subtle like you were at the beginning. He got by the Operative shields on the Director but had the bad luck to choose a time during my lessons.

“By your religion, I am evil,” I replied. “In mine, I have served my God’s Purpose.”

There were no shields!

Until you, Lianne, no one survived coming into contact with them. It was a close thing; I would have killed you if the residue of your playtime with a pair of priests weren’t fresh. I would have killed you anyway, but the little prize you left in their minds made me curious about your religious affiliation.

“The Institute thanks you for your service, Operative,” I said solemnly to her.

You were exactly what I wanted. I only had to kill any other option you might take to grab power, and you ate your way up the Church hierarchy.

“I thank you for your service,” I said taking a step back and pointing the gun at her head.

“You are an abomination to God,” she said raising her chin proudly.

No matter what you call him, Jason, your father is not God. He made you to stay in power!

My faith does not require yours, but who did you serve in all of this?

You made me do it.

“Not to mine, Lianne,” I said.

I allow you to die believing that.

Her blood and brain matter spattered Positives ten rows back from where she died.

Kneeling down, I put Lianne’s gun back in the holster. I turned around, walked to the center front of the stage, and looked around at the audience of Positives.

“You have power. They...” I said gestured towards the holo-cameras and to the audience beyond. “Need that power. Need you.”

I jacked into every Positive hard so my words would echo in their minds as I spoke them.

“I was sent into the wilderness to learn what you are capable of. I will kill any who sets foot beyond the privilege given to them. If necessary, I will kill all of you and allow your race a dignified extinction.”

I released my jacks letting them breathe again. Turning to the holo-cameras, I addressed everyone watching.

“You do not have to understand me,” I said. “But know this, someday all I will have of my... father...is you.”

The Director was waiting when I exited the auditorium. He nodded towards the back of his grav-chair.

“Push me to the gardens,” he said smiling as I got behind the chair.

When I was young, I measured my growth by how high I could put my hands on his grav-chair and how easy it was to guide it where he wanted to go.

“You’ve served me well, my son,” he said. “Very well.”

Author’s Note: Case File #101 should be read prior to this story.

“Is it actually necessary to live in a see-through house, Jason?” Eve asked walking up behind me.

“Being able to watch me comforts them.”

“The human race can deal with giving you a little privacy,” she said.

“I’m the head of the Institute.”

“And I thought I had it bad!” she sighed. “Being the first unmarried President makes the holo-reporters go insane if I have a late meeting. God forbid it be with a Positive!”

“We had to rush a Healer to the hospital for the holo-reporter who fell off the roof that one time,” I said.

“It’s your fault,” she accused. “Your sex life is so accessible, people expect every media figure to fuck on camera. Of course, nobody can get your ratings. What was your last get-together? Four women! ‘It’s a powerless grav-plate, Mr. Director. Can we spend the weekend in your bed?’ I wish I knew you were that easy to get into bed when I was your Watcher.”

“It makes people feel better to see...”

“Please!”

“As I remember, your last visit to the Institute put two Positives in...”

“So why did you ask me over?” she said, cutting me off. I put my head against the wall and closed my eyes.

“A pair of twins tested Symbolic,” I said. “Another pair, in the same town, tested as Healers.”

She was quiet, absorbing the information.

“What’s in the water of that town?” she asked.

“It gets better,” I said.

“Let me sit down,” she replied. I heard the clicking of her heels. “Hit me.”

“The children were raised according to the Director’s specifications for twins,” I said.

“Nobody does that,” she said. “Everyone says they do, but nobody does.”

“The mothers had their instructions directly from the Director,” I said.

“Why would he do that?”

“They’re my children.”

“That’s impossible,” she said. “I’ve read the reports; you’re sterile.”

“The bio-techs have altered their diagnosis to ‘most likely biologically immature at the time of testing’,” I said.

“What?!?” she exclaimed and took a harsh breath suddenly. “Amada’s children! Two children, two Positives!”

I waited for her to put it together.

“There’s only been three children with a Healer parent,” she said. “The bio-techs thought I might be the anomaly and not Amada’s daughters. I wondered why she chose to go to the Asia-Institute.”

“She was carrying my child,” I said, “A secret the Director wanted kept.”

“How many children do you have?”

“Eleven.”

“It’s impossible,” she insisted. “You can’t keep that kind of secret from Telepathics, especially you.”

“There is a way,” I sighed. “Most Telepathics use the hammer, which tends to leave things in a mind-wipe, but a careful one won’t even leave ripples behind.”

“The bio-techs still have to do the work, Jason!”

“Symbolic programming.”

“The Symbolic programs the behavior, and the Telepathic wipes any trace of what happened,” Eve said. “It’s too subtle for Operatives, even Santos.”

I turned to look at her.

“The Director’s wife,” she said finally. “I keep forgetting she was a Telepathic.”

“How did you figure it out?” she asked.

“Mary and Magdalene are the mothers,” I said.

“Those two are unforgettable,” she snorted.

“A quick scan of them revealed the truth,” I continued. “I watched the bio-techs edit the results of the children’s genetic lineage without realizing what they were doing.”

“Some of those bio-techs have to be new,” she said.

I tilted my head.

“Positives programmed to program others,” she said leaning her head back. She broke out laughing.

“You father was a piece of work,” she said five minutes later. “I wonder which HE thought he was, our Savior or Satan.”

She stood up and undid the buttons of her blouse.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Have you seen my poll numbers?” she asked, dropping the blouse beside the seat and working on her pants. “I’m getting killed on not doing my maternal duty. Why would I let those years of holding your Operative leash go to waste? You’re already trained.”

“Concentrate real hard on making our son Telepathic,” she said walking towards my bedroom. “I want to yell and have him hear me in the next state!”

I learned through years of working with her that while my policy of not having sex with my Watcher was a good one, orgasms were the only way of getting a word in edgewise sometimes.

Eve gasped as I made her forcefully aware of the jack I maintained in her at all times.

“God Apart!” she screamed, collapsing in the doorway of my bedroom. The first orgasm was only a distraction so I could map her nervous system.

“FUCK!

The second orgasm wrapped around her like second skin and sunk deep into her core. She watched as I undid my robe and dropped it; I was naked underneath.

“You knew,” she breathed.

“As you are fond of telling me,” I replied, “I am the mind reader.”

“Bastard!”

“I told you about the twins having the same Symbolic language days ago and that they figured out how to Heal with their power,” I said standing over her. “Their Healer cousins were your favorite though.”

“I only had to touch my father to be Healed. With family Healers behind them, your Symbolic twins will be far more effective.”

“Stand,” I ordered. She bit her lip and tried to resist my command to no avail.

“So why did you pick here?” I asked. “I know you don’t like the cameras.”

“Women can fuck you, even have your children, but you belong to me,” she said addressing a bank of holo-cameras.

She danced back at my command and threw herself backwards onto my bed. The fall lasted a minor eternity for her during which she crashed through levels of heightening pleasure. I was above her, looking into her eyes, and entering her when she landed on the bed. Her hands caressed my sides as she gazed inside me.

“What were you thinking when you fucked into me?” she asked much later.

A Telepathic’s secrets are not all their own; this one, though, belonged to Eve.

“So—this is hope.”