The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Rain poured down on the city as bright peals of lightning arced across the sky. The thunder that followed momentarily was enough to penetrate the thick walls of Sparro’s home, though inside the mighty pounding was reduced to a low rumble. The noise was muted, but still proved intense enough to wake the dead.

Green eyes opened in the dark, and looked about the room slowly. They held a slight, unnatural glow, and penetrated the shadow far more than was humanly possible, because they were no longer human. Mara James had never had poor eyesight, but what she was experiencing now was no less than near perfect vision in almost complete darkness.

Slowly, carefully, she pushed herself up from the couch. It was as comfortable now as it had been some hours before, though closer inspection revealed it to be badly stained. The stains in particular seemed to glow under her scrutiny, and she knew them immediately for what they were: blood.

The smell of blood tickled in her nose, and she began to feel thirsty. It was a thirst unlike any she had known before, a deep longing, an urgent need. She licked her lips, considered, then lowered her head to the cushions, and began licking them.

“I would greatly prefer if you didn’t do that, my dear.”

Snarling, Mara crouched low, ready pounce, her eyes blinking in the light that suddenly flooded the room. The tall man standing before her was familiar somehow, though she couldn’t place why, exactly. “Who are you?”

He smiled, an infuriatingly superior expression. “Has it been so long, Mara? But Damien hinted it might be like this. I am Sparro, and would rather not watch you lick your own dried blood off of my couch. You see, I am a man of somewhat... tender... sensibilities.” At these words he laughed.

The thirst called, and instinctively Mara answered, leaping from the couch and running at him as fast as she could, which was considerably faster than she ever could before. She had just long enough to see another sparkle of amusement enter his eyes when he raised his hand. “Stop.”

Suddenly, it was as if the air around her had become solid as stone, and she could move no farther, frozen in place like a statute, excepting only her grinding teeth. He watched her for a moment, then nodded. “Please, sit back down. We have much to discuss.”

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than she felt her self walking back to the couch, feeling a distinct prickle of pleasure as she sat upon the blood stains. He studied her for a minute, then smiled. “I have it. I’ve been trying to classify you, you see. Everyone here has a specific niche... and you of course will have to have yours. Angelica!”

A gorgeous blond entered from a side door. Mara could almost feel the heat of the woman’s pumping blood, and again felt thirsty, but was unable to leave the couch. Sparro glanced at her, and then turned his attention back to the blond, who had knelt beside him. “I think we finally have a perfect match for the dark room, Angelica. Take her there and dress her properly.” With that he turned back to Mara. “We will proceed with your training later. For now, though... you will obey Angelica here as you do me. You are not to harm her or any of my pets without my express permission, and you are not to feed at all without my blessing. Now, don’t pout. Run along and be a good girl, I’ll train you soon enough.”

It wasn’t until Mara was meekly following the blond, finding her bad mood dissolving, that she completely registered what he had said. Angelica turned to her, with a slight grin. “You’ll get used to it after awhile. Now, enjoy yourself! A whole new life is opening to you!”

And with that, Mara was suddenly having an excellent time.

The storm was blowing more and more fiercely all the time, and Kyle only barely made it to Sparro’s apartments without wrecking his car. It occurred to him that it could be easily replaced, but that wasn’t the point. Rushing to get slightly less than completely soaked, he pulled open the door and entered the old warehouse, taking the elevator up to where the old Mashiekeh lived.

The rooms were mostly empty, with the occasional pet taking a brief moment to kneel before resuming their chores. Sparro certainly kept them busy. Molly, an exquisite redhead acquired in Edinburgh, was posing mostly naked in the East sitting room, various erotic poses that must have required a certain level of Yoga to reach, her silk semi-covering perfectly matching the surrounding furniture. Kyle sat down to wait for Sparro, admiring Molly and wondering how Allie would like such a role.

“Well now, my young friend. You seem rather satisfied. I assume your, ah, concert went as planned?”

Kyle looked up at Sparro. Something about the old man radiated gluttony momentarily fulfilled. Considering the Mashiekeh’s appetite, that was saying something. “Yes, it went quite well. You were right, as usual. I see you’ve also been eating well.”

Sparro smiled. “As complete a meal as I’ve had in centuries, young master. Sexual pleasure is the finest taste, but variety makes the meal, as I’ve always said. I’ll spare you the details for now.” He glanced at Molly, who after a moment prostrated on the floor had resumed her poses. “I see you noticed my Molly. Would you like her? I haven’t yet given you a present: it’s customary for the old Mashiekeh to help the new begin his collection. You can try her out now, if you like.”

Kyle felt a moment of revulsion. Sparro felt no more connection to the human being before him than he did the carpet she danced upon. For a moment he wondered if he would ever be that way... he saw that Molly had dropped to her knees before him, waiting for any command. He reached out a hand to her face, caressing it. She responded for a moment, closing her eyes and slightly nuzzling his hand, then glanced at Sparro and resumed her expressionless waiting. He wanted her, he realized. And she would welcome it... she had little enough real contact in Sparro’s rooms. It would be so easy to take her, introduce her to Allie and Andrea... and then he remembered Marlena.

“No, Sparro. I appreciate the offer but as you said, I am already quite... satisfied.”

Sparro tilted his head slightly. “Your mind is chaotic today. May I ask what the trouble is?”

Kyle considered the question, watching Molly stretch into a seemingly impossible pose. Well trained, indeed. “I am merely getting used to this life. It is little more than culture shock, I suppose. If it persists I will let you know.”

There was a moment of pause as Kyle kept his eyes on Molly’s undulating figure. A lie, straight out. He knew that if Allie, Andrea, or any human attempted the same on him, he would know it in an instant, and he wondered if he was yet as open as a book to Sparro. For some reason, he didn’t want Sparro to know about Marlena—not yet. That time would come later.

The hesitation was brief, but then Sparro sat in another chair. “Very well. I am glad you have come, for I have a favor to ask. I have business that I will be several days attending to, which will take me away from here. Normally I would merely leave one of my pets in charge, but it is always better to leave such things in more capable hands. Would you stay here, and see to the well-being of my pets and other affairs?”

Kyle considered, then nodded. It wasn’t as if he had anything better to do. With a glance at Molly, he grinned. “I think I can do that for you.”

Sparro followed Kyle’s eyes, and had a grin of his own. “Feel free to sample as you wish, I will only take one or two of my domestics with me. If you so desire, there is also room for your two pets here as well.”

Kyle thought about this, then shrugged noncommittally and stood. “It’s settled then. When will you be leaving?”

“In a few hours time. Oh, do be sure to follow my instructions considering my newest pet... acquired only last night. She will require special care; all the more reason to leave you in charge. And be careful of Damien. Imprecise orders with that one could lead to disaster. Permit him to feed if he pleases you and let him help you as needed, all will be clear when you read my instructions.” And with that, Sparro rose, shook Kyle’s hand, and walked from the room. With a last glance at Molly, Kyle followed him and began planning the next two days. What was he going to do about Marlena?

It was nearly noon when Allie awoke from a lovely dream involving herself, Master, and Mistress, with the two of them eating a meal she prepared and served them, then using her in turns on the kitchen table while she orgasmed continuously. Her dreams of late had all seemed to take such turns... these days as she walked down the street, (when mistress permitted her to do so,) she found herself eyeing the women as much as the men, wondering what it would be like to be used by each of them in turn.

It took a moment to disengage from such daydreaming, but she suddenly realized she had work to do. Rising quickly, she paused only long enough to check her hair before rushing into Mistress’ room, quickly but carefully untying each rope. As she freed the second ankle, Mistress’ eyes opened and watched her finish, but she didn’t say anything for some time. Finally, when all was done and Allie was kneeling at attention beyond the foot of the bed, Andrea finally spoke.

“Last night was, difficult, for me, Allie.” That wasn’t Allie’s recollection of it at all. She clearly remembered Andrea screaming, begging, promising anything including freedom, as if Allie wanted that, if only Allie let her go. Only Master’s orders had prevented her from obeying. But one did not contradict one’s Mistress, and so Allie only nodded. Andrea continued watching her for a moment, then sighed.

“I suppose you may as well prepare breakfast, I seem unable to punish you.” Allie gave a sigh of disappointment... some punishments could be fun, after all... and went to the kitchen to prepare the ordered meal.

As she began getting busy, Allie selected an apron. Not long ago, she had owned no aprons, but recent events had changed things. She had noticed a look in Master’s eyes once, seeing her dressed in nothing but an apron, and Allie lived to bring Master pleasure. This apron had been a gift from Mistress, when Andrea had decided that a proper slave needed a proper wardrobe. The apron was made of transparent rubber, and fitted in order to hold her in proper curves while cooking. The feel of the cool plastic against her body made Allie tremble for a moment, but she quickly got to work, preparing eggs, bacon, and toast, all exactly as Mistress liked it. Once all was as it should be, she knelt on her little rug beside the table and began reciting her new and improved mantra. During the dream, she had never stopped reciting it, except, of course, when screaming in orgasm.

“Obedience. I am obedient, I must obey. Master. I must obey Master. I belong to Master. Master commands obedience. I will obey Master. I love to obey Master. Mistress. Master commands me to obey Mistress. I want only to obey Master and Mistress. Master holds my mind, my will, my soul, and my life. I am obedience, I am submission, I am a slave, a good slave, a slutty slave, my body will be used, I love to be used, I want Master to use me, I want Mistress to use me, I want to be a good slave...”

“Shh...” Allie cut off immediately as Andrea walked into the room and sat at the table. “Its bad enough to have you simpering all the time, but that litany of yours is just plain creepy.”

“Yes Mistress. I’m sorry, Mistress.”

Andrea paused in eating, looking down at Allie, curious. “I wonder if Master is still upset with me...” And suddenly she cut off, her eyes widening.

Allie was delighted! Mistress had always called Master “Kyle,” which Allie was not permitted to do unless in public. It had hurt, to hear so great a man slandered by unnecessary use of his name. Andrea had learned her lesson well the previous night, it seemed. Allie felt that she should be rewarded.

“Do you require any service, Mistress?” Slyly, undulating forward, she placed her head in Mistress’ lap. “Any at all?”

Andrea hadn’t noticed. “I called him Master. He told me to, and I am. He’s not even here...” Allie blinked for a moment. If Master commanded, Master was obeyed, no matter where he was. Deciding that Mistress was talking to herself, she began nuzzling Andrea’s crotch... remembering the warm wetness that could be found just under the bathrobe.

Andrea suddenly looked down, startled. “I... I can’t even say his name. Ky... Ky... damn it... Ky...”

Allie looked up. Mistress was definitely addressing her now. “Master, you mean?” Of course that was what she meant. She just needed to learn it for herself. Allie had, after all.

For a second, Andrea nodded. “Yes, Master... No!“ Shoving Allie off, Andrea jumped up from the chair, her back to the wall, looking around wildly. “What has he done to us, Allie? I can’t say his name, I jump when he crooks his finger, I can’t even orgasm without his permission!“ The horror grew. Allie walked towards her, slowly. She knew exactly what Mistress needed.

Andrea’s eyes widened in horror. “And forget me, look at you! Five days ago you were twisting boys around your finger; now look at you! Look at us! I call him Master, have to call him master...”

“Need to call him master?” Allie suggested. She was now nearly nose to nose with Andrea, her apron still fluttering to the floor behind her.

Andrea’s eyes couldn’t get any wider, but looked as though they were going to have a good try. “God help me, yes. He did this to us... look at us; you’re his slave...”

“Not just his slave; your slave too, Mistress.” Allie’s hands went to the fastenings that held Andrea’s bathrobe loosely together.

“Yes... you see? You see what he...”

“Not he, Mistress. You. You did this, remember? You made me your slave... you wanted me to be your slave.”

Andrea’s hands tried to push Allie’s away, but Allie knew what was required of her. Mistress’s hands might be saying one thing, but her eyes were saying quite another. “You know what else, Mistress? I know why you did it. You wanted this. You wanted me. And now you have me.” The fastenings undone, Allie’s hands quickly pulled the robe away from Andrea’s shoulders, allowing the material to fall loosely down her body, hanging from her wrists. Allie took a moment to admire... Mistress had the finest breasts.

“No... No... I...” It was barely a whisper. Lust was growing in Andrea’s eyes, her breasts swaying alluringly as she started panting.

Allie smiled, cupping Andrea’s breasts with her hands, lightly playing with each nipple. “You know what else, Mistress. I love it. I love being your slave, being Master’s slave. I am yours, you are his, and you will love it too. It is what I am, it is what you will be, but you will always be my Mistress. I will always love this...” And with that, she kissed Andrea with passion. The hunger in Allie grew... and slowly she lowered herself down, dragging her lips down Andrea’s neck, over the collarbone, taking a moment to suckle lightly on the right breast, then the left. Suddenly a hand was placed on her head, and Allie allowed herself to be pushed to her knees. She looked up with hunger. “Let me serve you, mistress.” It was almost a command.

Andrea’s eyes flashed with desire; passions aroused within her that needed to be fulfilled for fear they might consume her. As she looked down, she took hold of Allie’s head in both hands. “I do love it, slave. You may serve me.”

It was some time before either spoke coherently again. In the end, Allie was carefully kissing every square inch of Andrea’s body, while Mistress stared blankly at the ceiling. Remembering how often she had done the same after that night in the Golden Dancer, Allie knew that Master would be pleased.

The very thought sent her into an excruciatingly violent orgasm.

Sparro had never liked airports. Flight patterns were something that even he could not control, and he had a history of disliking anything that fell outside his realm of dominance. By those grounds, he was learning to almost dislike Kyle, whose powers were growing at an alarmingly fast rate.

Deciding to veer away from such unpleasant thoughts, Sparro took a moment to turn to his companion for the weekend. Whenever his plans required flying, Sparro’s first choice of companion was always Cheri... the voluptuous redhead had actually been acquired during a flight from France, and so was a bit of comfort during such trying times.

Cheri’s normal attire usually consisted of varying styles of the standard French Maid uniform, an indulgence to Sparro’s sense of traditionalism. Today she wore an outfit that was almost a business suit, the kind that would give any CEO dreams of potential board room encounters. He had given her instructions carefully while preparing to leave.

“While we are in public, you are my younger secretary who is desperately in love with me. You will treat any man who shows you attention coldly, but will hang on my every word, as though desperate for my attention.”

It was a calculated pose, designed to frustrate the other passengers on the flight. To have such an Ice Princess melt for someone else was enough to cause any man to feel desire for her, and such emotions could keep him going throughout the flight. Perhaps, if one of the stewardesses was acceptable, he could involve her as well.

Their flight was called. Nodding to the attendant (who had only recently bumped two first class passengers in preparation for the new arrivals) Sparro led Cheri onto the aircraft, locating their seats and placing her at the window. He smiled, and whispered to her as they sat. “You are doing quite well, Cheri. Perhaps, when this is done, you shall have a reward...” and with that, he slipped a hand under her jacket to briefly fondle a breast, ignoring the gasp from the stewardess immediately behind him. A glance showed that she was quite young, and though not good enough to keep, enough for a bit of diversion on the flight. He had but to smile, and the stewardess was shocked to find a sense of arousal filling her entire body...

Two hours later, as Sparro walked off the plane with Cheri on his arm, he briefly entertained the idea that perhaps flying wasn’t so bad after all. As the Stewardess disembarked, he noticed a slight glaze in her eyes... memory removal often had that effect. Her crewmates suspected, of course, but it would all fade in time. They were busy. Suddenly, he heard a voice that caught his full attention. “Hello, Sparro.”

Sparro turned to face the speaker, a rather tall man whose dark complexion and bold features seemed to give him a sense of presence even without the other factors. He was dressed, like Sparro, in a finely cut suit, which Sparro suspected had been made by the same tailor, a rather exclusive one in Vienna. He nodded. “Hello, Gustav. I suppose you have a reason for summoning me all the way out here? I do have business matters of my own, you know.”

Gustav snorted. “You have only the business of pleasure, old friend, and there is plenty to be had here, I assure you. If you will accompany me, my rooms are not far from here. We have room for your pet, as well.”

“Too kind of you. Have I shown you my Cheri before?”

“Yes, I see her so often I wonder if you have any others. Come.”

There was a moment of irritation as Sparro began following, which he was not used to doing. For a moment, he sent out a probe of the room... families being separated and united, business people late for their flights, a cacophony of emotion that seemed to be funneling towards them. In truth, it was funneling into Gustav, who never gave up a chance to feed. Sparro contented himself to merely wait. They were in Gustav’s territory, after all. The answers would come in time.

Though none of the rooms in Sparro’s apartments had outside windows, most at least were cunningly designed to look like they did, each with a view of a specially designed landscape carefully crafted, and lit to imitate the warm rays of the sun. Kyle stood in a room now, though, that was the exception. It was not the innermost chamber (those were Sparro’s private rooms, where no pets were allowed,) but it was close, with at least two other rooms between it and the outer walls of the warehouse in all directions. Kyle had never seen it before, and wasn’t sure he believed his eyes even now.

Whereas the rest of the apartments were well lit, this one was dark, illuminated only by candles, carefully tended. The lone “window” painting was also unique in that it showed a night sky complete with moon. This moon revealed a nearly barren landscape, with mountains in the distance and the silhouette of a castle set vaguely against the moon. Kyle had seen enough vampire movies to recognize a stylized view of the Transylvanian countryside, and knew enough of his teacher that it was probably more true to form that most would give it credit for.

The room was, in fact, admirably fitted to its newest occupant. Mara stood before the bed, looking at him defiantly. She was as different from Sparro’s other domestics as the room was from the rest of Sparro’s apartments. Where Angelica was soft and submissive, Mara looked powerful and dominant. Whereas the other girls wore little other than silk, Mara donned a leather outfit that shaped everything while concealing little.

The note had, of course, explained everything. She was the newest pet, an experiment of Sparro’s. She was Nosferatu, something Kyle had known as soon as he opened the door. The bitterness of her emotions was not as powerful as Damien’s, but clearly showed she was no more human than he was. What he couldn’t figure out was how she had been acquired.

His instructions were to permit her to feed, in limited amounts, on the other pets. He wondered if any would try to shy away, given that their lives would not be in danger, particularly considering the pleasure involved. For them, like their master, hedonism had become a way of life. For a guilty minute, he thought of Allie and Andrea. They were his own creations, and as dominated by their sex-drives as any of Sparro’s pets. One thing was for certain... he would never let the same thing happen to Marlena.

He had his instructions for now, though. He decided to carry them out. Addressing Mara in a strict tone, he said; “It is time for your exercises, dark one. You are to submit.”

Her reaction was not exactly to Kyle’s tastes, but even he could appreciate what others would get from it. Her defiance never died, rather it grew and bloomed, often with snarls and spitting. Where the other girls shaped themselves to the commands of Mashiekeh like water flows into a container, Mara had to be bent, fighting the orders even as she succumbed.

The instructions concerning her were explicit. She has been only partially trained, and I would not waste such valuable training time as this. Part of her will want to obey, but that will be slowly pushed to a subconscious thing. Her resistance is that of her kind, refusing to accept any hold on them. She will resist, then be broken, and feel shame in the pleasure at the end. She is a special taste, a change of pace. Enjoy her as you will, but maintain her feeding and training.

Kyle twisted his face into a frown. At least the others enjoyed what happened to them, Sparro left them no will in the matter. This one would be in a life of longing and fighting, unable to even lose herself in the pleasure gained at the end. He had no desire for her, but knew what she needed as she finished her dance before him.

“You may pleasure yourself tonight. No, you will pleasure yourself tonight, repeatedly, until your daily rest. We will meet again soon.” With that, he left quickly, closing and locking the door behind him. He wouldn’t have to choose a target for her feeding until tomorrow, and that, at least, was a relief.

When he entered the main room, he found himself faced by Angelica, dressed entirely in loose flows of almost transparent red silk. Since his conversion, he had gotten to know most of Sparro’s domestics at least by sight, but Angelica remained special, familiar to him, his first real feeding. She smiled at him slowly, as she dropped to her knees before him. “Is all as you wish, Master?”

Not for the first time, Kyle wondered at her past. Captured (or collected, as Sparro preferred) when she was a fifteen year-old runaway, Sparro had spent much of the last ten years shaping her into the perfect domestic. There was nothing waifish about her now. Before him knelt a bombshell, the likes of which even Hollywood would drool over, carefully crafted in every detail. Kyle wondered how much of her mind was still her own, if any of it was.

“All is well, though if I remember the schedule correctly, tonight was to be one of rest for you. You do seem paler than usual.”

She shivered slightly, then removed the red velvet choker she’d been wearing. Underneath were barely visible bite marks. “Mara was hungry, and Master commanded me to...” as her fingers touched the small punctures, her eyes rolled for a moment, and Kyle felt her entire psyche leap in remembrance of the fear and the pleasure. She hurriedly replaced the choker. “She did not take much, as commanded, but Master wanted no risks.”

Kyle nodded slowly. “That still does not answer why you are not resting.”

She blushed, if faintly. Her ability to do so shocked Kyle. Perhaps Sparro had left some of her in his molding. “I remembered your first night, Master, and wanted to know if you would like... company... tonight. Nicola was supposed to ask you, but I told her that I would... Master did not leave specific orders,” she ended lamely.

Of all the things he had expected, a proposition was not among them. Carefully he probed her mind. The stirrings of sex were there of course, though difficult to distinguish from the residue of Mara’s feeding. The shyness, however, was not feigned, and there was desire, a desire for him. A possessive desire, which was perhaps the greatest shock of all. He wondered for a moment how she had diverted Nicola, who was almost as much a nymphomaniac as Andrea.

Lost in his thoughts, Kyle didn’t notice her crawling forward until she was immediately before him. Slowly she stood up, shyly meeting and holding his eyes. “This slave will do as Master commands, of course. But this slave, but I, would greatly enjoy serving Master tonight.”

Kyle felt a flush of emotion towards her. She was asking for him to take her, desiring it beyond anything he’d felt in Allie or Andrea. It was almost as powerful as the feelings Marlena had. He couldn’t resist, and upon consideration, didn’t want to. His arms wrapped around her, and she snuggled in tight against him. Satisfaction rolled off of her in waves, and in that Kyle realized that it was this, not the sex, that she truly wanted.

Sparro was not a person easily impressed, but the new surroundings that Gustav had arranged for himself were certainly admirable. On the top of a high-rise downtown, surrounded by windows that looked down on a scurrying population, the penthouse was the very picture of modern ultra-affluence. Sparro preferred tradition, but to each his own. It was the last of a series of strongholds that Gustav had shown him, taking up most of the last two days. His reasons for summoning Sparro, however, had not yet been revealed.

He turned from a window overlooking the bay to see a tea service being placed. The girl placing it was beautiful, if not quite up to Sparro’s standards visually. Knowing Gustav, she had a very specific reason for being there.

Gustav gestured to her as he entered the room. “One of my newer acquisitions. Caught her just before she graduated from law school. She had actually managed to trace several of my accounts to this address, and tried to have an interview with the seventh richest man in the world, who was apparently completely unknown to the world.” He laughed. “How could I refuse such a pretty face? I decided to let her graduate, so she’s only here nights. High Powered attorney by day, mindless meat at night. Exquisite, no?”

Sparro nodded silently. Her attire, the ultimate in slut-ware, fitting for a porno, made her role as attorney difficult to imagine, but Gustav could be heavy-handed with his irony at points. She certainly played the role of meat well, though. Gustav slapped her finely shaped ass as she walked past him, and she giggled loudly, an octave higher than necessary. He grabbed her arm and pulled her sharply downward. Another giggle, then she quickly unzipped his pants, and got started with her mouth. Sparro, disgusted, suspected that more than her attire changed after work. Her gag reflex had certainly been removed.

After sipping tea quietly, Sparro looked his colleague in the eyes. Gustav was voracious, vulgar, and heavy handed, but powerful in more than the world of business. Mashiekeh did not make a habit of measuring comparative strengths, but Sparro suspected that this room held two of the most powerful Mashiekeh in the world.

“I am, of course, quite impressed with your new home, as well as your new domestic, but I trust you invited me here to do more than show off.” Though he disliked it, Sparro was capable of being quite to the point when he so desired.

Gustav snorted, then leaned forward. The girl backed off, wiping her mouth daintily, then laid back and began masturbating on the floor. “I had not finished my story yet, entirely. That,” he indicated the girl with a jerk of his head, “traced my assets specifically through a chain of restaurants I own. I have no desire for the idiots of this country to bother me about my money, and so I covered my tracks as I could. Among these restaurants is the Golden Dancer, which you may know is one of the more profitable such establishments that I own.”

Sparro frowned. “If this is a matter of territory, Gustav, you realize that your restaurant exists in a neighborhood well known to be mine. I have permitted this because of our understanding, and I can’t imagine what problem might have arisen now.”

It was Gustav’s turn to frown. “I am fully aware of your territory, Sparro, and of course any patrons of the Golden Dancer are available to you. Its staff, however, as my employees, clearly fall under my jurisdiction.”

Now Sparro was confused. It made him angry. “I have never gone near any of your staff for that very reason. If you wish to make baseless accusations against...”

“I haven’t accused anyone, Sparro. Yet. But I am about to. I am not speaking about you but that apprentice you decided to bring about. You do like popping them off, don’t you? This is what, your fourth?”

“That’s right.” Sparro’s voice was testy. He had brought about more apprentices than any of the others, save his own teacher, and the others often gave him grief about it. The moans of the sexpot on the floor did not aid his mood. “In any case, I have been very careful with him. He did go to the Golden Dancer, and did interact with a waitress, but I took special care to place another target, one under my jurisdiction, forward instead, and made sure that he bit. He was not even awakened yet at that point.”

Gustav’s eyes flashed. “It seems you have grown lax in your watchfulness, Sparro. He did meet again with that waitress, when your watching eye must have been elsewhere. They spent the night together, three nights ago. She has not been to work since, and so far I have been too busy to track her. I trust, however, that you will see that this situation is dealt with. If she is alive, she is to be returned to me. If dead, I will want a replacement.” He nodded at Cheri. “This one will do in a snap.” Cheri, who had been gazing with interest at the masturbating girl, looked up with a start, then shot a frightened glance at Sparro.

Sparro growled. No one threatened his property. “My pets are my own, Gustav. This one will return with me, tonight. My apprentice has domestics of his own, and any reparations that need to be made will be made by him, personally. I will see to it. This meeting is at an end. Cheri, with me.”

Gustav stood. “This is not to my liking, Sparro. A newly caught domestic, barely trained by an apprentice Mashiekeh...”

“Is more than a replacement for a potential domestic who had not even been marked yet.” Sparro turned a disdainful eye to meet Gustav’s. “Indeed, I shall have to give him one of my own in apology for not warning him of the Dancer within a week after he was turned. I will offer no more, unless you wish to challenge me.”

The tension grew as the great minds examined each other, searching for weaknesses. Rarely did Mashiekeh match wills, for the most part they were above that. Gustav was not likely to risk it in his own home, where his numerous domestics offered plenty of strength for both. Gustav broke the contact first. Rare were such encounters, but Sparro had not lost one yet, as was well known. “Go then. Pamper your apprentice. If the girl is not returned, or replaced, within a week, I will call for a reckoning.”

Sparro gestured to Cheri, then left without a word, the orgasmic screams of the former paralegal following him out the door.

Bendetti’s was a gem of a place, a small family-owned Italian restaurant just outside town limits. It was protected from large crowds by careful word of mouth advertising, friends informing friends but no one else. Even so, it was nearly impossible to get seats without reservation, often a week in advance. Kyle, however, discovered that he was able to manage.

Marlena was looking beautiful in a simple yet exquisite blue silk dress. Kyle had bought it for her only a few hours previously, when she had shyly confessed that she didn’t own anything suitable for Bendetti’s. The Golden Dancer, it seemed, was not as generous as it was popular. She had also been very quiet all evening.

“Something’s wrong.” Kyle said suddenly over his fettuccine alfredo. “What is it?”

She put her fork down. She had barely touched her salad anyway. “It just seems too good to be true.”

“What does?”

“All of this. You. I meet a young, talented musician. He plays the coffee shop circuit, but also has enough clout to get into Bendetti’s without a reservation, money to buy me this dress, and is, well, amazing in bed.” She smiled for a moment, blushing slightly, then continued. “Seriously though, I feel that there is something that you’re not telling me. There has to be a catch, Kyle.”

Kyle looked at her for a long time. It would be no problem to tell her not to worry about it... particularly with the knowledge that she would do just that if told to. He didn’t want to do that, however. Not with her. “You’re right, partly. There are some things I haven’t told you yet. We’ve hardly had the time, after all. I don’t really understand it all myself, yet.” He took a deep breath, and began to tell her, when she interrupted him.

“Wait... not yet. Not here. Not until you’re ready. It’s just good to know that you will tell me, eventually.” Her tension seemed to melt away. “For now, though, let’s enjoy this evening, and pretend that there is nothing else.”

Kyle smiled. At that moment, the piano player began a tune, a slow waltz, and he knew what to do. “Would you like to dance?”

She joined him in the smile and stood up quickly. “Yes, I would.” With that, he took her hand and led her onto the floor, basking in her eyes as they began to spin. He knew that her association with him would bring her into danger, of course, but Sparro need never know about her. Somehow, he would protect her from the others. She would be his, and no one else’s. He just had to find a way to keep his promise.

“Oh, shit.” As always, he sensed Sparro coming before the old Mashiekeh actually arrived. This time, however, Sparro was still at least a mile away, but getting closer all the time, and was undeniably heading to Bendetti’s. Normally, Sparro had exquisite control over emotion, to broadcast his emotions, anger specifically, was as far from good as could be possible. Something had happened. Sparro was getting still closer.

A hand turned his face, and he found himself looking into Marlena’s eyes. “What is it?” she whispered. “Something’s happened.”

He nodded. “Something’s happened. You have to get out of here. Now.”

“No.” Her look had firmed. “You have your secrets. I’ve accepted that. But something’s happened, and you think there may be danger involved. I don’t know what is, but I won’t leave you to it. Not now.”

Kyle froze. She was reading him well... better than even Sparro could at this point unless he lost control. She needed to be gone, and he could handle that, of course... but... he couldn’t. Not to her. “Damn,” he whispered. Then he made his decision. “Listen, someone is coming, someone powerful and dangerous. Things will happen then that might be difficult to understand...” Sparro was almost there... “But I promise when it does, I’ll protect you.” With that, he kissed her, and then turned. Sparro had arrived.

It was a very relieved Sparro who sat in the front of the vehicle as Kyle walked Marlena back into her apartment. When Kyle returned to the car, they rode for a few moments in silence, en route to Sparro’s apartments. Kyle spoke first.

“I haven’t felt you that angry before, Sparro. If all you wanted was some of Bendetti’s wine and a chat with me, why did you feel like you were ready to tear the building down on my head?”

Sparro grinned. Kyle’s sensitivity was stronger than he gave himself credit for. It was something to be proud of, providing Kyle did not presume too far with his power. “Not on your head, lad, but someone else’s. I am very glad to see the girl is alive, I was worried that perhaps you had finally decided to taste that final spark.”

“And what if I had? What interest have you in her?”

“Not me, specifically, but a colleague of mine. Another one of us. He owns the Golden Dancer, you see, and is very mindful of his property. As an employee of his, she falls under his jurisdiction. Still, she is alive, so no matter. She will simply be returned to him and all of this mess will go away. If she had been dead, you would have had to give him one of yours in return. Of course, my offer of one of mine remains open. Whichever you chose to give would be easily replaced.” He sighed. “I have not seen Gustav that angry for a long time, Kyle. And I do mean a very long time.”

Kyle fell into silence again. “What is this Gustav like? Why hadn’t you mentioned him before?”

Sparro grimaced. “Must we speak of this? Oh, very well. Gustav is an animal. Cunning, no doubt, but without any sense of subtlety. He is periodically detected by the humans because of it, but he makes do, as we all do. Heavy handed with his powers as well, guts his domestics of any will or sense of self. They’re practically puppets by the time he’s through with them, and I’ve never heard of another killing so many by merely over-indulging, without meaning to. Do not worry though, he is rather aloof with newcomers. You should be spared the burden of his company for some years yet, decades if you’re lucky.”

“Such luck,” Kyle muttered. “Marlena is to be returned to him, then?”

“Yes. Directly to his harem, I believe. He won’t risk losing her again. I’m amazed that he waited as long as he did, she is quite the specimen. I do not blame you for your choice of prey. Were it not for the rules, I would have taken her long before.”

“Rules?”

“More like guidelines, though armored in millennia of tradition. We do not infringe on each other’s jurisdictions. Small as this world has become, there is still plenty of humanity for us all. There will be others, choicer even than this one, if you know where to hunt.”

It was a quiet ride back to the apartments, where Sparro was pleased to find everything as he had ordered. Later, he found Kyle staring at Angelica, watching her pose carefully, excited as always by the attention but hiding it well.

“You hide your mind, young friend, but you cannot hide that you are doing so. What is it?”

“I’m not going to return her, Sparro.”

Shock. It had been quite some time since any desire of his had been denied, much less in his own apartments. Anger rose again. “Yes, you will, apprentice, or things will go worse for us both. You do not understand what you are talking about. You will go now, and bring her here. I will return her myself.” Every ounce of command that he could muster was poured into his words. Let the young Mashiekeh feel real power.

Kyle raised his eyes, and to Sparro’s further shock, matched him will to will. “It is you who does not understand, Sparro. I will not return Marlena, Master, because I cannot. She is not mine to give, unlike like Andrea or Allie. I will protect her, however. I will not let so vile a creature as you have described get his hands on her, Mashiekeh or no.”

Sparro snarled. “You mean to challenge me in my own house?”

Kyle shrugged. “I will if I must. Things need to change, and now is as good a time as any. I will protect her from you, as well as him, if need be.”

Sparro spoke quietly. “And do you think you could do so? Here? Now? You will see, my apprentice, that you have much to learn.” And with that, he attacked.

There was no arm swinging or shouting, but an effort of will poured into the breaking of another. Battle such as this was rare because often the loser found themselves weakened nearly beyond recall, and without others to feed upon, left to wither to a wraithlike existence, bereft of will. Sparro hoped, however, that Kyle would be more able to take direction after...

His attack hit a wall, glanced aside, and before Sparro knew what was happening he was being attacked in kind. An assault like none he had felt before was pouring onto his defenses, and he found himself having to defend. Another attack... blocked. And again, he had to defend. His snarls grew deeper. Perhaps he would not permit Kyle to recuperate, after all.

Sweat beaded onto Kyle’s face. He did not really know what he was doing, only playing as felt natural, but it was clear that he was fighting for his life, despite the fact that neither had moved from where they stood. Angelica, however, seemed aware of what was happening, and watched them both, terrified.

It was exhausting, concentrating his will in such a way. He felt a need to feed deeper, but had not yet mastered how to do so from a distance, and now was not the time to feel a way out. As his weakness grew, he took a step back, breathing more and more deeply. Sparro was speaking, but Kyle could not make out what was being said. He could only assume that he had done well so far, but Sparro was far more experienced, and stronger in will despite all Kyle could do. He was going to lose, and he had no idea what would happen to him if he did. Then it occurred to him what would happen to Marlena, and a moment of misery almost defeated him. Sparro, a triumphant look in his eyes, stepped forward to finish it, when...

CRASH! A vase, nearly a thousand years old, shattered over Sparro’s head. Coupled with his exertion, the old Mashiekeh was knocked unconscious. Holding what was left of it was Angelica. She stared at her hands, as if unable to believe what she had done. “He... he told me to help...” she glanced at Sparro. “He never said who. He’ll feed me to her, for sure, for this. For keeps.” No need to ask who her was.

Kyle had to think quickly. He knew that. But his head was spinning. “Do you have any street clothes you could wear? I mean that wouldn’t draw too much attention?” She nodded, still staring at Sparro, horrified. “Change into it. You’re coming with me.”

She looked up at that. “Where are we going?”

Kyle shook his head, because he didn’ know. They needed to run, far away, beyond the reach of anyone. It would take time to get Marlena, Allie, and Andrea, never mind get them outside of Sparro’s reach, if such a place existed. They needed to run. He just didn’t know where.