The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Duck.”

“But sensei…”

“I said duck. Do not make me repeat myself, apprentice.”

Jezz, short for Jezebel, sighed. The brown-haired, athletic woman was in her late twenties and could name any number of food items she preferred above duck. A great number of items. But when her sensei Edge was in this mood, there was no deterring him.

“Yes, sensei,” she said. “Of course we’ll have duck tonight. Again.”

Edge, master of Tae Kwon Heat, nodded, managing to make the motion seem regal, despite being only a couple of inches over five feet tall. Although he appeared to be around 80 years old—and Jezz knew he was much older—his hair was full and long, with a goatee that dangled several inches below his chin. He walked with the aid of a staff nearly as tall as he, although Jezz knew it to be a prop every bit as illusionary as any frailty the old man might claim.

“And rice, apprentice. Duck and rice work together in tandem, much like the jiggling cheeks of your soft bottom.”

Jezz rolled her eyes. “Of course rice,” she said. “Again. Who could possibly even consider duck without rice? After all, it’s not a hamburger, right? A nice juicy hamburger. With french fries. And onion rings. And a soda. And—“

Edge assumed a lofty expression. “It is as the great philosopher For-Chun Koo Qi said: ‘Each day, compel yourself to do something you would rather not do.’ To sup on duck and rice is the path of wisdom for you, apprentice.”

Jezz gave Edge a dark look. “The great philosopher For-Chun Koo Qi? Seriously? That’s what you’re calling the fortune cookie factory now?”

Edge walked on as if he hadn’t heard.

Thirty minutes later, they were seated at a table at the Chrystal Heights House of Duck. Neither of them looked at a menu. The waitress approached.

“Good evening,” she said, her Asian features courteous. “Welcome once again to the House of Duck. Would you like to try our special?”

Edge looked at the young woman suspiciously. “Does the special consist of duck and rice?”

The waitress shook her head. “No.”

“Then no,” said Edge. “We require two plates of duck and rice.”

No stranger to this order, the waitress turned and headed for the kitchen.

Jezz stood then. “Pardon me for a moment, revered teacher,” she said. Then she followed the waitress to the kitchen.

“One moment, miss,” said Jezz to the waitress. “The gentleman at my table forgot a small part of the order.”

Jezz spoke for a few moments, then turned and walked back to the table. When she got there, she was surprised to see someone sitting at the table with Edge.

The man was non-descript in every way. His suit was good quality, but didn’t stand out in any way. He was average height, average weight, average looking. One could pass him in the street and have no recollection of having seen anyone. He blended into every background.

“Oh,” said Jezz. “It’s you. What do you want, Garage?”

The man Jezz knew as Mr. Garage smiled. “Good evening, Legs. What makes you think I want something?”

Jezz rolled her eyes. “I have told you repeatedly not to call me that. And of course you want something. You always want something. How did you know we were here, anyway?”

“How did I know you’d be at the same restaurant you’ve been at every night for the past two weeks?” said Garage. “Just took a great leap of faith, I suppose. Besides, I love this place. I come for the strudel. It’s great.”

Jezz sat down with a grunt. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Idle hands, yada yada,” said Garage. “The bad guys never sleep.”

Edge nodded. “This is true, apprentice. Did you not know that the busiest of persons has the largest amount of time?”

Jezz rolled her eyes again. “Ignore him,” she said to Garage. “He only speaks fortune cookie these days. That’s why we’ve had to eat here every night for the last two weeks.”

Mr. Garage looked at Edge. “You follow the teachings of For-Chun Koo Qi? ‘He who knows others is wise. He who knows himself is enlightened.’”

“I do indeed,” said Edge, “but my apprentice is unable to appreciate such wisdom. But it is as Koo Qi says: ‘He who expects no gratitude shall never be disappointed.’”

Garage nodded. “These kids today, right? Like Koo Qi said, if certainty were truth, they’d never be wrong.”

Jezz gave them a flat stare. “What do you want, Garage? Let me guess. Lost agents. Mind-control. You want me to get them.”

“Good work, Legs,” said Garage. “I’m glad we had a chance to have this little talk.”

“Funny, Garage,” said Jezz dryly. “How about some details?”

“Ask and you shall receive,” he said. “Are you familiar with Billy the Boulevard?”

Jezz shook her head. “No. Should I be?”

“All right, let’s start a little simpler. Are you familiar with Chrystal Heights?”

“I’m losing patience, Garage, and interest as well,” said Jezz. “Get to the point, please.”

“Billy the Boulevard is a Chrystal Heights phenomenon,” said Garage. “It’s a city street several blocks long. It appears in a location and stays there for an undetermined amount of time. Then it moves and relocates to another part of the city.”

Jezz blinked. “It just…relocates itself? An entire road?”

Garage nodded. “Yup. Entire boulevard, actually. It’s a trans-street.”

Jezz took a swallow of water. “A trans-street, you say? Please do go on.”

Garage shrugged. “It used to be Annie the Avenue, but apparently it now identifies as a boulevard and goes by Billy. Still only runs north-south, though.”

Jezz closed her eyes. “Garage, either tell me what’s going on or go away. My preference is for you to go away.”

The waitress arrived with their food. She placed a plate of duck and rice in front of Edge and another in front of Jezz. Then she placed a plate in front of Mr. Garage.

Jezz looked at Garage’s plate. “What is that?”

“Strudel.”

The waitress placed another dish in front of Jezz. Then she turned and walked back to the kitchen.

Edge looked at the offending dish. “Apprentice, what is that on your plate that assaults my senses like a rock disturbing the stillness of a pond?”

Jezz stabbed a fork into the plate and took a bite, her face taking on a dreamy look of pleasure. “It is chicken prepared as dictated by the great philosopher General Tso.”

“I see,” said Edge, his face expressionless. “And you find General Tso to be a greater source of wisdom than your instructor?”

“Nope,” said Jezz, taking another bite. “Just tastier.”

Jezz started sliding herself out of reach, but it was too late. Edge reached over and struck her in several places. He did not strike her with punches or kicks, however, but rather with a series of finger-pokes and light slaps in a very specifically timed sequence.

Jezz tried to move from her chair, but found herself dropping to a knee. Her heartbeat had shifted, pulsating with a slightly different cadence. The thumping was sending an electric energy throughout her body, causing her limbs to move in patterns she was unable to control.

“Sensei!” said Jezz, rising against her will to her feet. Her hips began swaying, rolling evocatively. “No, sensei! Not the dance! I’ll eat the duck! I’ll eat the duck!”

Garage looked at Edge. “The dance?”

Edge nodded. “Yes. The Dance of the Helpless Playtoy. It is what happens to one who better serves as a vessel of pleasure than as a mighty warrior.”

Jezz clenched her teeth, but couldn’t stop the erotic movements of her body. The Dance of the Helpless Playtoy was one of the 32 elements of the hierarchy of heat and she was now locked into the dance, unable to will her body to stop. Hips rolling, she felt herself kicking off her shoes, moving barefoot over the carpet.

She knew what would happen next and she tried to control her movements, to break the flow, but her arms moved straight up, removing her top and bra in one movement. Hips rolling, her bare midsection undulated as she danced topless, clad only in her stretch pants.

And the building heat in her lower belly told her that the worst was yet to come.

“One word, Garage,” said Jezz, speaking through clenched teeth as she shook her shoulders side-to-side, causing her boobs to jiggle erotically. “Just one word and you will be found tomorrow with strudel stuck in places you couldn’t dream of.”

Absolute professionalism, superlative self-control and untold years of experience allowed Mr. Garage to maintain a completely innocent expression in the face of danger and bare boobs shaking within inches of his face.

Jezz twirled, her feet moving to unheard music, her body flowing to an unheard beat. Her nipples were hard now and she was lubricating inside her jeans. It was a hot, sensuous dance, and the longer the dance went on, the more overheated she would become. If she didn’t stop soon, she’d be putting on an even more embarrassing show for the restaurant customers.

“Garage!” said Jezz. “Get on with it!”

Mr. Garage watched the topless Jezz dance for another few seconds, then shrugged. Apparently he’d done stranger things than talk to a topless martial artist doing a hoochie dance in an Asian restaurant.

“Anyway, Billy the Boulevard moves around,” said Garage, resuming his presentation. “It’s actually kind of a popular place. A lot of different clubs and businesses set up shop there because it’s pretty much unregulated. And people like to party there for the same reason. You can do a lot of things there that you couldn’t do in a more mainstream club in downtown Heights.”

Jezz ran a tongue across her upper lip, then twirled. “Unregulated?”

“More or less,” said Garage. “There’s an understanding between Billy the Boulevard and the Heights’s powers-that-be. Billy polices himself and the authorities leave him alone.”

Jezz twirled again, then sat on Garage’s lap, her back to him, wriggling her bottom. “Remember. A single word and you’ll need to have that strudel surgically removed. Now what’s the problem with Billy?”

Garage continued. “The problem is a circus has set up shop along the Boulevard. A circus with a bad reputation. It seems that some people who attend this circus suddenly get an uncontrollable urge to join this circus.”

“So?” said Jezz, her knees widening, her hands pressing between her thighs. Her voice was strained. “Is that every kid’s dream? To join the circus?”

Mr. Garage took a bite of his food. “Oh, yes. This place does strudel right. Anyway, ordinarily I’d agree with you, Legs, but I wanted to find out for sure. Just curious, you know?”

Edge nodded. “Curiosity kills boredom. Nothing can kill curiosity.”

“Right you are,” said Garage. “Anyway, I sent in a team to check things out, see if they could see anything. I couldn’t send them with their equipment, since we weren’t supposed to be there, but still, they were a good team. I figured they could nose around quietly.”

Jezz’s hips were wriggling. She forced the words out. “Shocked to hear you were playing on the wrong side of the border. I’m assuming you haven’t heard back from them. Almost certainly a mind-control situation. Got it. What’s the pay?”

Garage named a figure.

Jezz writhed on his lap, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. She shook her head.

Garage named a larger figure.

Jezz, her knees wider, body trembling, shook her head again.

Garage took another bite of his strudel, then wiped his mouth and stated another, much larger figure.

Jezz was silent for a moment. Then her head went back against Garage’s chest and her hips began bucking. “Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!”

Mr. Garage allowed himself a grin as Jezz writhed in helpless release on his lap. “This is the most enthusiastic you’ve ever been about a job, Legs.”

Jezz and Edge stood inside the big top. People streamed around them on their way inside.

Jezz shrugged. She’d had a non-stop blush since her public orgasm on Mr. Garage’s lap but was determined to act as if nothing happened. “Looks like a normal circus so far, but something feels off.”

Edge was holding a cotton candy in one hand and candied peanuts in the other. “Indeed. Society prepares the crime. The criminal commits it.”

Jezz nodded. “Exactly. Wait, what?”

“Society prepares the—“

“Never mind,” said Jezz. “You’re still in fortune cookie mode.”

“For-chun Koo Qui.”

“Whatever,” said Jezz. “I’m going this way. You check out those booths over there.”

Jezz followed the booths and kiosks, carefully scanning the crowds as well. There were no obvious dangers or threats.

Then she saw the monkey.

It was a cute monkey, dressed in a red vest and hat. He was eating a peanut. When the monkey saw Jezz, he dropped the peanut and doffed his hat. Then the tinny music from the organ grinder’s music box sounded and the monkey started doing tricks.

Jezz watched politely for several seconds, then prepared to continue forward. She glanced at the organ grinder, however, and saw his eyes slide directly to the right side. The music stopped then, and the monkey ran into the makeshift passage. The same passage the organ grinder was looking at surreptitiously.

Nothing screamed ‘trap’ like a monkey dashing into a side-passage. Okay, many things screamed ‘trap’ louder than a monkey dashing into a side-passage, but whatever. Jezz decided to spring whatever trap was waiting for her.

Edge made his way along the other side, observing the service booths. Perhaps there was more exotic foods to be found, such as caramel apples or pretzels.

Disappointed in the lack of interesting food kiosks, he walked briskly along the path. He sensed no menace from the gypsy fortune-teller and he had no desire to decorate his flesh with India ink. Then he noticed the tent of the portrait painter and he stopped.

This did not go unnoticed. The vendor of the tent, a blonde, barefoot woman in overalls with a blue streak of paint on her cheek, noticed Edge’s pause and hailed him.

“Cheers, granddad,” she said. “Do you fancy a portrait? I could knock one out for you in no time.”

“I am unsure, young woman,” said Edge. “Are you able to reproduce greatness as that which stands before you now?”

“It won’t be easy with features as refined as yours, granddad, but I think I could bring out that eminence you have hovering just beneath the surface.”

Edge nodded, pleased. Rarely did one find such wisdom in one so young. “Lead on, young woman. You display insight beyond your years.”

Jezz found herself in a small tent, with several folding chairs sitting in rows before a small stage. The monkey was sitting in a front-row seat.

Jezz didn’t sit down. A dark-haired, exotic woman entered. She wore a glittering tiara. Her warm mocha skin contrasted exotically with the pink circus outfit she wore. It was sleeveless, with a short, wide skirt that required only a slight lean forward to reveal her pantied bottom. Fishnet stockings and sparkly high heels completed the outfit. She held up a large placard reading ‘Ivan Steele—the World’s Strongest Man!’ and walked across the front of the stage, her hips rolling erotically.

Jezz’s eyes narrowed as she watched the girly fluff in pink cross the stage. She was pretty sure she was looking at agent Valencia Vaughn, leader of the team Garage had sent in. Before she could speak to the fluff, though, Ivan entered the stage.

The large, baldheaded man with the truly impressive handlebar mustache ignored Jezz as stepped up to the barbell. He powdered his hands, then leaned down and grasped the barbell.

Jezz ignored the strongman and concentrated on Valencia. The exotic pink fluff was off to the side of the stage, her gloved hands pointing toward Ivan. Her big, bright smile was as empty as her eyes.

Ivan grasped the barbell and brought it to his chest. He struggled with the weight for a moment, then pushed the barbell straight up. The effort required to keep the barbell aloft was obvious. Sweat broke out on the strongman’s brow. The scent of his musk filled the tent.

Jezz filled her lungs with the scent, surprised at how good he smelled, how powerful his scent was. There was a depth to it, a dominant masculinity. She breathed it in again.

Her nipples were hard.

It was that which set off the alarm bells. One who trained under Master Edge was not going to become overwhelmed by some guy picking up a barbell. An outside agent was acting on her.

Jezz looked to the pink fluff, but she remained next to the stage, smiling brightly, her assets on display for anyone with eyes. It wasn’t her.

Jezz’s eyes snapped back to Ivan. He was looking directly at Jezz now. And smiling.

Jezz looked down at her hard nipples pressing against her top, then looked back at Ivan. She grinned and feigned a big yawn.

Ivan’s face colored at the mockery. He dropped the barbell back to his chest, then to the floor. He stared at Val and breathed in, causing his upper torso to swell in a manner that made Ivan look even bigger. Then he growled the type of growl that emerges when one wants to let someone nearby know that things are going badly for them.

Jezz knew the type. He would lumber around and beat his chest for a minute or two to work himself up, but sooner or later he’d get there. Since waiting for that to happen seemed like a bad idea, Jezz decided to use the element of surprise. She sprinted forward and leaped at him, catching him squarely in the midsection with the blade of her foot.

Ivan huffed, but seemed otherwise unimpressed. He reached out to grab her, but Jezz danced back a step, then dropped and whirled, striking his knee with her heel.

She might as well have kicked a tree. Ivan winced slightly, then roared and brought up a mighty foot. Jezz rolled away just as he stomped the floor where she had been a moment before.

Jezz reassessed. Ivan was big, strong and could take a hit. She was going to have to cheat.

She glanced around the room. She had little to use against the strongman outside of an aluminum chair or the monkey. Jezz grabbed a chair and brought it down with full force against his big bald head.

There was a loud ringing thump. Ivan paused for a second and looked at the chair in Jezz’s hand. There was a rounded dent in the seat of the chair.

Jezz looked at the chair, then at Ivan. Outside of a trickle of blood running from Ivan’s forehead down the bridge of his nose, the strongman appeared unaffected.

Jezz dropped the chair. Okay, now she was going to have to cheat. She stepped forward, pivoted her hips and aimed a powerful kick for Ivan’s balls.

Unfortunately the strongman was too experienced a fighter to leave that area open. His arms crossed low, blocking the kick and trapping Jezz’s foot as well. Ivan grabbed Jezz by the front of her shirt, then lifted her in the air. He shook her several times, then tossed her into the row of chairs with a clatter.

Dazed, Jezz sat up and waited for her head to clear. Although he was relatively unhurt, the fight had worked Ivan to the point where his powerful musk had filled the tent. Jezz knew intellectually that she had to fight Ivan, but her lungs were saturated with his pheromones and her body was responding to his proximity. She was a wet mess.

“Ha!” said Ivan. “You think you can take down Ivan that easy! You are too pretty to fight like this! Come with Ivan and we make the beast with two backs.”

Ivan was an idiot. Jezz rolled to her feet. Then she took a step forward, snatched the monkey from the seat where he still sat and threw him at Ivan’s face.

Ivan roared as he tried to swat the angry, scrambling simian off his face. The monkey screeched and leaped just in time, causing the huge strongman to smack himself in the face. And while he was doing that, Jezz stepped forward and kicked him in the balls.

The strongman’s eyes bulged and he made a high-pitched gurgling sound. Then he cupped his heavy testicles and dropped to his knees.

Val, long lashes fluttering, stood with her hand covering her mouth in apparent shock.

Jezz wanted to get the agent out of there, but she wasn’t sure how deep Val was and didn’t know how long Ivan was out of action. She’d have to come back for her later. Jezz moved past the circus girl and moved deeper into the big top.

Edge entered the booth of Vivian van Gogh.

The blonde painter moved to her easel and indicated for Edge to sit on the chair. “Get comfortable, sir. This won’t take long. You’ll soon have a memorable portrait.”

Edge moved to the chair and sat down. He watched as the woman’s paint brush flew over the canvas.

As promised, a full portrait of Edge emerged.

Edge nodded in satisfaction. The woman appeared to be every bit as good as she said. “An excellent reproduction,” he said. “It will be perfect for my apprentice to look at and meditate.”

Vivian smiled. “Perhaps,” she said, “or perhaps not. Allow me a minute or two to add a few final touches.”

Edge shifted slightly to allow the painter woman a better angle for assessing his obviously strong presence and physical character. An outside observer might have thought he was striking a pose, but Edge knew that a true artist would understand his actions.

Jezz made her way through the entrance that Ivan had come from. She followed the hallway around until she found herself back out in the main common area. She followed that to the back of the tent. She realized she was on the far side of the circus now, near the back exit of the big top, where the performers apparently entered. Jezz decided that warranted investigation.

She slipped through the back of the big top and made her way straight back to another tent that was smaller than the big top, but larger than the surrounding storage tents. Not seeing anyone in the immediate area, Jezz entered the tent.

It appeared to be a supply tent for the performers. There were racks of costumes everywhere, with only a small pathway down the center to what appeared to be a changing area. The tent appeared to be empty, but Jezz knew better. She made her way down the center aisle until she found herself in the center changing area. Then she waited.

It didn’t take long. Two female mimes attacked silently, striking from opposite sides. Jezz shifted his stance slightly, avoiding one lunging kick while re-directing the other. The two mimes whirled with follow-up attacks, both of which were handled by Jezz. Jezz took on a battle stance, but both mimes disappeared into the surrounding racks of clothes.

Odd. Jezz glanced around, but they were nowhere to be seen and Jezz wasn’t going to give them the advantage by moving through a maze to find them. “C’mon out and play, guys,” she said out loud into the silent tent. “We can do unspeakable things to each other. Unspeakable…ha! See what I did there?”

She was answered only by silence.

Jezz sensed rather than heard the next attack. She whirled and ducked just in time to avoid another pair of mimes attempting to attack her from behind. The pair attempted to strike her simultaneously, but Jezz blocked their blows easily. There was a brief exchange, and then the pair of mimes disappeared into the maze of clothing racks as well.

Jezz shook her head in irritation. “C’mon, guys. Why can’t we just get along. No need to give me the silent treatment. Silent treatment…ha!”

Playing hide-and-seek didn’t appeal to her and Jezz was getting tired of the silent, phantom attacks, so when the next attack came, she immediately went into action. A pair of the mimes came at her from behind, one kicking high, one kicking low. Jezz leaped and pivoted, causing both attempted kicks to miss. Still elevated, Jezz twisted and drove the blade of her foot into a mime’s stomach, causing her to exhale and bend over, breathless and hurt. Jezz landed lightly on her feet, then whirled and struck the other mime, knocking her back several steps.

Their shadow attacks disrupted, the other pair of mimes leaped into the area and engaged as well. The four mimes were surprisingly disciplined and fought well as a team. It was a silent battle, going back and forth across the center changing area, the only sounds being the thuds and grunts of blows landing to strong effect.

Jezz blocked, weaved and struck. She could easily have defeated any single one of them, but they worked together well as a team and Jezz respected their ability. But it was soon apparent that the battle mimes had no chance of taking down Jezz and she was about to gain the advantage.

“Thank you for playing,” said Jezz, “but your lack of communication skills are starting to make me feel boxed in. Boxed in…ha! See what I did there?”

The mimes resumed their attacks with renewed ferocity. Apparently they despised mime humor.

It was a strange, silent back-and-forth battle. Something was off. The mimes didn’t seem to be attacking to hurt her. They were attacking to make her react, it seemed, rather than to injure.

Jezz finally paused, dropping her stance, inviting an attack. Rather than move in, however, the battle mimes melted back into the shadows. Then Jezz realized that another figure had entered the immediate area.

It was not a mime, however. It was a clown. The clown was in full clown regalia—a red clown suit, oversized shoes, red hair. It was a female clown, and she was unbuttoning the top of her clown suit, revealing surprisingly lush cleavage. There was a gold coin hanging from a chain nestled at the top of her breasts. A pretty, glittering coin.

The clown leaned closer, making sure Jezz’s eyes remained locked on the coin. “There you go,” purred the clown. ”Watch the pretty coin of gold, and you will do what you are told. You are relaxed, and now you’ll find, your body and your will are mine.”

Jezz’s eyes glazed over, her facial features relaxing.

The clown continued, her voice seemingly amplified by the amulet. ”Watch the pretty coin of gold; I’ve got your will and your soul. You are relaxed, you love my bust; and now your body is full of lust.”

Jezz continued gazing at the amulet nestled in the clown’s impressive cleavage. Then, almost casually, she struck the clown in her mid-section, knocking the breath out of her. The clown dropped to her knees, clutching her middle, gasping for air.

The clown looked stunned. “How?! You should be deeply under my power by now!”

Jezz smiled. “Two reasons. Reason number one is mental discipline on a level you can’t understand with the right training.”

The clown looked unconvinced. She said, “And the other reason?”

“The other reason is that I hate fucking clowns,” said Jezz. Her hand flashed forward, snatching the gold coin amulet from between the clown’s lush cleavage.

“Hey!” said the clown.

Jezz glared at her and held the gold coin directly in front of the clown’s face. “Watch the pretty coin of gold and you will do what you are told. You’ve lost this fight, that’s how it goes, so you will now remove your clothes.”

The clown rolled her eyes. “Very funny. That’s not how the power works.”

Jezz grinned. “I know,” she said. Then her hands flew as she shredded the clown’s outfit in seconds, leaving a very naked woman in a red wig and clown shoes. Jezz then interrogated the naked ex-hypno-clown.

Jezz made her way back into the big top. It was time to wrap up this case.

It didn’t take her long to find her target. Ringmistress Lady Morganna, head of the Circus DeFay. Lady Morganna stood in the center ring, preparing for the show that was scheduled to start shortly. The ringmistress was six feet tall and made taller by custom-made thigh-high leather stiletto boots. A short, tight leather skirt hugged her hips, with a few inches of fishnet visible between the bottom hem of the skirt and the top of the boots. A black and white corset put her ample cleavage on display, framed by a red master of ceremonies jacket. A black cape with yellow inlay hung from her shoulders. Her top hat was deep red, with a black band above the brim. She wore a black choker and her black-gloved hands held a riding crop.

Three women dressed in revealing sparkly circus outfits stood close to Lady Morganna, smiling blankly and waving at the crowd. Wolf-whistles sounded as the circus bimbos performed their sole duty, which was to be pretty. Jezz recognized one as Valencia, lead agent of the team Garage had sent in, and she recognized another as Kendra, the commando agent. She didn’t recognize the third bimbo, a lush, exotic blonde Asian.

Lady Morganna watched as Jezz made her way into the center of the ring. She waited until Jezz stood before her to speak.

“So you’re the one who’s been stirring up so much chaos around my circus,” said the ringmistress. “You and that old man.”

“That old man is my sensei,” said Jezz. “You ran into him?”

Morganna’s face darkened. “Yes, he’s around. You wouldn’t believe what he did to my art mage.”

Jezz sighed. “If you’re referring to what I think you’re referring to, yes, I’d believe it. He’s pretty vigorous. Swelling bellies is sort of a trophy thing to him.”

“For fuck’s sake! He put her out of action for months, you know. Her gift doesn’t work while she’s pregnant.”

Jezz shrugged. “To the victor goes the spoils, yada yada. It’s what he does.”

Lady Morganna put her hand on her waist and cocked a hip. “And what’s he going to do when I turn you into a piece of blank fluff, smiling for the audience and looking pretty? And in your case, working a back tent on your knees?”

Jezz shrugged again. “He’d say I was yours by right of victory.”

The ringmistress shook her head. “You two are weird.”

Jezz grinned. “You have no idea.”

“At any rate,” said Morganna, “although I’d have no problem taking you down myself, I have a show coming up and I have no intention of ruining my makeup, so I’ll let my mimes deal with you instead.”

As if on cue, the four battle mimes moved into view, forming a half-circle around Jezz.

Jezz glanced around. “Normally I’d have no problem taking them out and then dealing with you, but I’ve had enough of this weird circus and I want to get out of here soon-ishly. So, Edge, please deliver some mime justice to these four while I take down Lady Morganna DeFay.”

All four mimes spun, suddenly realizing Edge was standing behind them. As a group, they scowled. They were the silent shadow warriors and they didn’t like someone else taking on that role.

Lady Morganna raised her eyebrows. “You’re sending one old man to fight a team of warriors?”

Jezz shrugged. “Like I said, he’s vigorous.”

“Enough talk,” snapped Morganna. “Let’s get this over with.”

Lady Morganna held up her riding crop and narrowed her eyes. Within the space of three heartbeats, the riding crop had extended and become far more flexible, turning into a whip. The ringmistress lifted the whip and curled it over her head.

Jezz moved in, hands held at the ready. Lady Morganna brought the whip down in a single lightning move. Jezz caught the whip and curled it around her wrist.

Then Jezz gasped as pure exotic heat shot through her arm to her shoulder. Jezz dropped to her knees, gasping as the current of unfiltered arousal flowed through her. She lubricated instantly, completely, her nipples rock-solid nubs. Her hips bucked uncontrollably.

“That’s my girl,” purred Morganna. “Let go. Let the heat take you. All you have to do is let go and be pretty. Such a good girl…”

Jezz shuddered and let the heat run through her, her thoughts swirling. Years of intense training under Edge, however, had honed her self-control and she slowly regained command of her body. Enough, at least, to take a firmer grip on the whip and suddenly yank it.

Unknown to Jezz, part of the whip’s properties was that it could not be forced from the wielder’s hand. So when Jezz yanked the whip with desperate intensity, Lady Morganna was pulled over as well. And because Lady Morganna had been unprepared for the sudden show of resistance, she crashed into Jezz and they both tumbled to the ground, tangled in the coils of the whip.

Ensconced in sudden, complete arousal, the two women suddenly found themselves kissing with desperate ferocity. The martial artist and circus ringmistress rolled around, bellies pressed together, frantically trying to pull away from the impossibly-heated kissing and caressing and just as urgently pressing into it. The crowd watched in stunned silence.

Having never experienced the whip’s effects before and lacking Jezz’s self-awareness, Morganna was unable to control herself. Pressed against Jezz’s body, her arousal complete, Morganna orgasmed, hips bucking as her lips explored Jezz’s. And while the ringmistress helplessly came again and again, Jezz rolled free of the coils of the tentacle-like whip.

After that, it was a simple matter of binding Morganna’s wrists with the decadent whip, leaving the ringmistress to wriggle and writhe helplessly as the whip forced orgasm after orgasm from her exhausted, defeated body. The crowd applauded appreciatively.

And then, for the final touch, Jezz reached down and removed the ringmistress’s top hat.

The bright, empty smiles disappeared from the faces of the circus girl bimbos. Their eyes became clear and intelligent once again.

Kendra looked down at her glittery, revealing circus bimbo outfit. “Not a word,” she said to the other two. “Not a word will ever be said about this to anyone or I will kill you.”

Valencia looked down on her sparkly outfit. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

The third ex-bimbo was swearing, although with the body she was displaying, it was difficult to call her an ex-bimbo.

Jezz walked over to Val and Kendra. “What’s wrong with her? Isn’t she happy she isn’t under Morganna’s dominance anymore? Who is she, anyway?”

Kendra grinned. “That’s Gwen, the third member of our team. Apparently the art mage did a number on her.”

Jezz opened her mouth to reply, then closed it again. Then she said, “Okay, I can see why she might be a little upset, but it’s not a big deal. The art mage can fix her now, right?”

Valencia chuckled. “Not while she’s pregnant. Your sensei knocked up the art mage, remember? Gwen’s stuck like that for nine months.”

Jezz blinked. “Oh. Oh, yeah. Um, good point.”

Gwen, hips rolling helplessly as she cutely stomped over to Edge, was ranting incoherently, pointing at the old man and then pointing at her own chest. Edge listened impassively for several seconds. Then he touched Gwen in several places faster than the eye could follow. A moment later, Gwen was dancing erotically around the ring, her sensuous wriggles sparking cheers and wolf-whistles from the enthralled crowd.

Kendra grinned openly. “It’s hysterical. I’m going to get her drunk. I can’t wait until the first time she wakes up next to a strange guy wondering how the hell she got there.”

Jezz handed the top hat to Valencia. “Give this to your boss. Make sure it doesn’t get back on Morganna’s head. This, along the whip, is what gave her those abilities. Without them, this should go back to being a regular circus.”

Val nodded. “We’ll finish up here. Thanks for the assist.”

“No problem.”

They were quiet for a few moments. Then Val spoke again. “Look, I have to ask. Is what your sensei is doing to the mimes and Morganna completely appropriate…?”

Jezz sighed. “Bellies, trophies, yada yada. It’s what he does. You can try to stop him if you like, but you’d only end up in the same condition. Besides, mime justice is a thing. They have it coming.”

Val stared in surprise. “He’s trying to impregnate the entire mime battle squad…?”

Jezz nodded. “And the ringmistress too. Yeah. In fact, we can’t leave until he’s done. Trust me.”

Kendra, impressed, watched enthusiastically. “I’d say it’s more than trying, Val. Pretty sure he got them all. That old guy’s got some stamina, yeah? There’re gonna be bellies all over this circus.”

Val gave Kendra a look, then walked over to try to help the still-helplessly-dancing Gwen.