The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The surface of the disc shimmered, its mirrored surface swirling with rainbow colours. Claire couldn’t stare at it for long; there was just something about the warp that felt ‘off’. Space around the device was hazy, and that made its surroundings seem fluid, as if the angles were wrong. She took a breath, forcing down the irrational fear. Today was the culmination of several lifetimes of work, and her primitive reactions were not going to get in the way.

Claire glanced across the hanger, towards the second disc. At a distance, the effects were less noticeable, but it was still more than enough to stir primeval memories. There was something almost atavistic about it, and despite years of exposure, she couldn’t quite suppress her shudder. The framework that supported each field was clearly man-made, but that description just couldn’t be extended to the warps themselves.

The technology behind the Mobius field had been in development for decades. The boffins at Aldermaston had perfected it, just in time to bring the Eurowars to a satisfyingly explosive conclusion. But while the field had been more than capable of accommodating technology, its inherent instabilities meant that organic material couldn’t survive the transition. At least, that had always been the case, until Clare’s father had taken over the project.

They had already completely second and third phase animal testing, with no discernable adverse effects. Today would be a fitting tribute to the man whose dedication had led them to this point. If he could have just hung on for another few weeks, then he would have seen it for himself. But, as it was, she had to believe that somehow, somewhere he was watching. The thought spurred her on, letting her bask in his imagined approval.

Claire rubbed her hands over the cool smoothness of her nanofibre jumpsuit, trying to dry her suddenly damp palms. The hanger had been cleared completely, and only the ubiquitous telefactors stayed behind to monitor her progress. The backwash of Hawking radiation that followed each activation, was hazardous, and if something went wrong. Well, that was how they’d lost Campbell.

The compact blonde-woman looked up at the nearest camera, and ‘chopped off’ a mock salute. Then, relying on the sense of bravado, she stepped lightly up the steps and paused for a moment only inches away from the rippling surface. Claire took another breath, feeling how the field raised her flesh into shivering goosebumps. A sense of unreality gripped her, body and mind abruptly disconnected. She muttered a prayer with a lack of conviction she found shocking, and then she stepped.

Transference was supposed to be instantaneous, and certainly none of the recording devices had ever shown anything of note during their transitions. But, that just made it all the more baffling, when Claire stepped through the disc and into a long, dimly-lit corridor. The walls and ceiling were wreathed in mist, which also pooled and puddled around her feet.

What the …

Her thoughts seemed to echo, reverberating through the narrow confines. Claire turned very slowly, until she could see what must be the inner aspect of the field. There was a slight feeling of pressure, a gentle push that seemed to urge her along the path. The analytical part of her brain battled with superstition, searching for a logical explanation. But her efforts weren’t helped by the way in which every worry and concern clung on tenaciously, echoes repeating off into infinity.

The urge to move grew slowly, eventually forcing Claire to take a step. The momentum built, as though she were running down an increasingly steep gradient. Then, the first wisps of smoke began to coil around her, as she walked. Their touch was like ice water, and the chill seemed to pass straight through her suit. The mist clung tightly, not slowing her movements at first, but draining the heat from her limbs.

She tried to break into a jog, recognising the need to speed her progress. But, the strength flowed from her, sucked away by the freezing fog. It climbed up her legs, wrapping around her thighs, reaching through the thin material, and just touching the delta of her sex. The ice made her burn, stirring a flush of heat that only seemed to accentuate how cold she was.

Claire’s steps became more unsteady, and her arousal resounded to the rhythm of her thoughts, each reinforcing the other. Ahead, she could just make out the other portal, and estimated that she had travelled half the length of the corridor. The mists thickened, forcing themselves more deeply inside, and wreathing her now aching clit in hoar frost. More chill vapour pooled around the curve of her breasts. Then, it crested the swollen globes and wrapped itself around her nipples, teasing them to shivering erectness.

Every step plunged her more deeply into the cold, and in turn, allowed it to penetrate her more completely. Claire felt weak and shivery, but her body sent confused signals, which flickered between the limits of both fire and frost. A thin tendril of ice crawled slowly over her clavicles, before wrapping itself almost lovingly around her neck. The breath caught in her throat, as icicles slipped up into her mouth.

The warp almost filled her vision, painfully close but still a world away. She could feel the field’s touch, and it seemed suddenly gentle in comparison to the caress of the mists. It was an effort to merely put one foot in front of the other. Still the steam fought to engulf her, and as it touched her face, Claire could almost feel the icy cloud seeping into her mind. The woman’s thoughts began to slow, stiffening into frozen ideas.

Then, her foot hit the top stair with a metallic clang and she stumbled back into the hanger. She almost fell, as her body struggled to recover from whatever had happened. Claire was panting, and, although the chill had left her almost instantly, still its after-effects lingered. Her neck tingled, breasts burnt and her pussy clenched and unclenched spasmodically searching for the memory of what had filled her.

Even Claire’s chronometer agreed that the elapsed time had been exactly zero. The bioscanners hadn’t picked up anything untoward until she emerged, and the team were putting that down as a ‘stress reaction’. Even her personal recording device denied that she had ever been in the corridor. There was no question; she had to keep it to herself. Without evidence to back up her story, they were going to assume that she was crazy and bounce her off the project. That could never be allowed to happen.

Claire smiled sweetly throughout the debriefing, and lied through her teeth. Vague feelings of paranoia began to gnaw at her, as she sat and answered Director Jenkins’ questions. The pencil-pusher had never liked her. In fact, she had always seemed to resent Claire and had made no secret of the fact that she thought the scientist had gotten her position only because of her father. Pure nepotism, she had spat, ignoring Claire’s qualifications and experience.

The bureaucrat and her tame doctor kept coming back to Claire’s physical reactions. They tried to look concerned, but it was clear that this was just an excuse to embarrass her. She ground her teeth, knowing that any delay would not be tolerated. Room 38 wanted this technology, and if she couldn’t provide it for them on time, they would simply find someone else who could. This wasn’t about her; it was about her father, and his legacy.

She looked at the two women, and realised that she hated them both. The depth of her feeling surprised Claire; she could feel her anger, cold and calculated. They were trying to destroy her, and that made them her enemies. Deep down, she knew that the situation was hardly that black and white, but that didn’t stop it feeling right.

The meeting dragged on, ending with vague threats and a freeze on any further testing until the investigation was complete. Claire’s anger simmered quietly, just beneath the surface. It pushed at her, and all she could do with it was to keep swallowing. Now was not the time, she had too much to lose. But if she was patient, then eventually there would come a time.

Dr. Bryant lingered a little longer than the administrator, making a great deal out of stowing her datapad. Only once it was clear that Jenkins was no about to return, did she speak.

“I didn’t say anything before,” she began, “But there were some anomalous readings in your bioscan. Readings that don’t tally with your story.”

Claire’s eyes narrowed. She could sense some kind of trap, but the details seemed beyond her. She didn’t know Bryant, except my reputation. Word onsite was that she knew her business, but that she was very much Jenkins’ ‘creature’. It seemed unlikely that she was about to jump ship, but Claire could see no reason not to listen to what she had to say.

“What do you want, Bryant?” she asked flatly.

“Come down to sickbay with me,” the doctor suggested, “Then we can talk about the truth.”

“I lied,” the doctor said as soon as they reached the sterile confines of the sickbay, “When I wrote in the report that your bioreadings indicated abnormal levels of stress.”

Claire tried to keep her face impassive, as she waited for Bryant to continue. There had to be an angle here, but for the moment, she couldn’t quite see it. Blackmail seemed unlikely, and surely there were more sophisticated ways to set up a ‘sting’.

“I’ve seen enough traces to recognise arousal when I see it,” the dark-haired woman continued, apparently trying to stare Claire down.

Claire would have shrugged, but the doctor’s words seemed to stir memories. She could remember the bone-deep chill, and the incongruous heat that it had brought with it. In response, her channel convulsed, suddenly slippery, as it grasped for the memory. She felt the flush rising up over her chest and into her neck.

The doctor smile was vicious, and seemed a perfect counterpoint to the look of triumph on her otherwise pretty features. But Claire was prepared to look past that, because at that moment, all that was driving her, was an almost uncontrollable need. She ached, a hollow emptiness that begged to be filled.

“God,” Bryant gasped, “Look at you. Jillian was right; a slut like you couldn’t possibly have gotten here without daddy’s help. But, tell me, who else did you have to bang?”

But Claire wasn’t listening; there was something about the doctor’s manner that set off alarm bells. Looking back, she couldn’t be sure what it was that alerted her. It might have been intuition, or just blind luck. But, despite how casual Bryant’s movements were, Claire could almost feel what was about to happen.

The hypo seemed to come out of nowhere, but Claire was already in motion. She parried the doctor’s attack, locking up Bryant’s arm and then twisting savagely. They stared into each other’s eyes, and Claire found herself enjoying the fear that flashed across the doctor’s face, as the business end of the injector touched her skin.

“What’s the payload?” she hissed angrily.

“Gamma tubocurarine,” Bryant gasped, as the strain on her elbow joint increased.

Claire forced their fingers down on the discharge button, and was rewarded with a sharp crack. Bryant’s cry of anguish was almost instantly silenced, as her muscles began to shut down. Genetically modified, the toxin was both more and less potent that its naturally occurring variant. It worked far more rapidly, but it spared the victim’s involuntary muscles, and that’s what kept the doctor from suffocating.

The frost chose that moment to return with more force, the heat of her flush froze, as it reached into her throat. The cold touch made her gasp, and when she looked back at her captive, that soft gasp became a moan. The ache had grown, the surge of adrenaline adding its own frisson to the mix. Bryant lay at her feet, helpless and wide-eyed. The doctor really was quite attractive, now she came to really look at her. She was small, almost elfin, and with a softness that the drug only built upon.

You could just take her, right here on the floor. Strip her out of her jumpsuit, and make her cum over and over. It’s hard to know what it would feel like, to be forced to orgasm like that, while your body was paralysed. But, it seems safe to imagine that it would be pretty intense. Then, once you were satisfied, you could restrain her somehow, and when she recovered you could force her to return the pleasure that you had already given to her.

But, eventually, Claire knew that she would have to let the doctor go, and that was when her problems would really begin. In the end, she would the one who had assaulted another staff member. Any doubts as to her mental stability would be proven beyond any reasonable doubt. Claire felt the certainly solidify, as the icy touch burnt into her mind. First she would take her pleasure, and then they would both need to take a short trip.

Even though her fingers trembled with both urgency and anxiety, it was a simple matter for Claire to unseam the doctor’s jumpsuit. As was the fashion, Bryant wore nothing beneath the security of her nanofibre garment. But, Claire was more than a little surprised to find evidence of the other woman’s arousal.

She realised that the doctor’s breasts were surprisingly large now that they had been freed from the skin-tight material. Dark nipples stood out sharply against pale heavy flesh. The skin had dimpled, and seemed tensed in anticipation. Claire licked her suddenly dry lips, and tried to understand what she was doing. Ever since she had stepped, this is what she had wanted, but it made no sense.

More ice water dribbled into her thoughts, and the cold band tightened around her throat. She couldn’t breathe, and yet somehow that made it all the more intoxicating. Her vision began to dim, becoming a dark tunnel that seemed to focus only on the doctor’s paralysed body. Bryant’s exposed sex glistened, with a thin sheen of her desire and as the curtain of darkness descended, Claire became acutely aware of the scent of arousal.

Claire had no idea when she had lost her own suit. It had just happened, and even as the realisation dawned, it was becoming increasingly less important. Then Claire lowered herself onto her helpless captive. She knelt astride the doctor, and then very slowly bent forwards before wrapping her arms around Bryant’s knees. This left the young woman practically smothered by Claire’s already hot and dripping pussy. Drowning in the scent of arousal, but unable to so much as twitch.

Claire eased the doctor’s legs apart, letting cool air caress her trembling lips. Then, she dived, face-first into the other woman, biting, nuzzling, and making little animal noises in the back of her throat. Bryant’s helplessness magnified everything. Even when she began to make her own pitiful mewling responses, it just forced Claire to clench and quiver, her juices dribbling over the doctor’s face.

Sensing that Bryant was beginning to recover, Claire simply took hold of her labia, and just chewed. Each wet snap pushed any other thought from the other woman’s mind. Claire’s own arousal didn’t slow her down; instead it seemed to push her towards even greater efforts. She brought her tongue to bear, teasing her captive’s overly sensitive clit in wide smooth circles. At the same time, she bore down with her weight, crushing her cunt into Bryant’s face, and grinding herself in equally distracting circles.

It was only later that it occurred to her just how many times Bryant might have climaxed before the drugs began to wear off. As it was, the first time she could be sure was when the doctor managed a little cry and the softest of shivers. It was as if a switch had been thrown. Suddenly the sickbay felt like an extremely unsafe place to be. Even restrained, it was going to be a risk moving the doctor through the base.

Claire weighed her options for only a moment, and then jabbed the hypo against the pulse in Bryant’s throat. The drug’s delivery system would prevent an overdose, and like this she was going to be a lot easier to transport. Then, once she had again donned her discarded suit, she began to search for a suitable container. After all, if she were discovered, the doctor’s naked body was going to be pretty difficult to explain.

The biohazard container had been the perfect choice. Anyone who saw it knew instantly that they were supposed to give it a wide berth. Fear generally trumped curiosity, and it allowed her to make her way back to the hanger, unchallenged. Claire made sure that the recording systems were powered down, and then put the test chamber into lockdown.

The idea had come to her like a bolt from the blue, and it was so crazy that it seemed possible that it might even work. She needed somewhere to hide Bryant, while she tried to figure out what was happening. Somewhere that the doctor could be put, ‘on ice’, and it was that thought, which had triggered her revelation. She would leave her in the corridor; somewhere that no one else knew existed. She’d be perfectly safe, in fact, she might even enjoy it.

A tiny pang of uncertainty tried to raise itself into awareness. But, tiny crystals of ice ruthlessly froze it, and dashed the thought into splinters, before it could make itself heard. Carefully, she hoisted the doctor’s unresisting body out of the coffin-like cylinder. Her body was heavier than Claire had expected, her dead-weight making it all the more difficult. But she was a woman on a mission, and ponderously, she made her way up the steep steps.

Safety interlocks meant that the system would not shut down, until the subject had passed through the second gate. So, Claire couldn’t just toss Bryant through the warp. Instead, she had to undertake another trip through the strange mist-shrouded path. Of course, in some ways that would be better. Not least because it gave her the chance to find out exactly what the doctor had been planning to do with her.

Passing through the field a second time, was strangely comforting. But, Claire didn’t really have a chance to dwell on that. Instead she busied herself, using roll after roll of semi-autonomous medical membrane to thoroughly bind the doctor. She could feel Bryant beginning to stir, but it really was too little, too late. By the time her muscles had anything like the strength she would need, she had been effectively mummified.

The membrane clung tightly, and, given time, it would form a permanent bond to the ‘patient’. It wasn’t enough to endanger life, and several layers of safeguards ensured this. But, it was more than enough to make sure that Bryant wouldn’t be going anywhere, without outside help.

Claire squatted and waited, enjoying the feel of the thin mist, as it swirled around her. She hardly noticed the way that vapour was washing back and forth over her captive. The frost had returned, stronger than ever, but somehow Claire knew that she had nothing to worry about.

By the time Bryant was co-ordinated enough to speak, the frost had begun to seep into her mind as well. Claire didn’t really register the thin band of ice that seemed to coalesce around the doctor’s throat. Her attention was focussed only on getting some answers to her questions.

“What’ve you done?” the doctor slurred angrily, “You sick bitch.”

Claire felt her anger try to rise again. But, even before she could react, it just seemed to drain out of her. The ghost of a smile played across her lips, and she let her hand rest lightly on Bryant’s belly. She was blanketed by a great sense of calm; it cushioned her thoughts, but didn’t take away from the growing sense of excitement. The doctor flinched at her touch, but there was no way for her to escape it.

“I can’t keep calling you Dr. Bryant now can I?” she told her, tracing an ever-growing spiral on the other woman’s stomach, “Now, I’ve got so many questions for you. But, let’s start with an easy one … what’s your name?”

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” she demanded, “Can’t you feel what this place is?”

Claire thought about the question for a moment, and then she understood. It was so obvious when she thought about it. She sprung nimbly to her feet, muscles suddenly reinvigorated, and then she took hold of her captive’s ankles. For the first few steps, it was hard work, dragging the madly struggling and squirming woman. But then, abruptly it became easier.

Bryant screamed as the mists swallowed her completely. Claire could feel the ice touches again, but where before they had been frightening, now they were just soothing. Then, somewhere amidst the heat and fog, she could hear a faint buzzing. It seemed to grow in intensity, as the doctor’s cries became less urgent and finally ceased altogether. The further they moved down the corridor, the easier everything became.

“Your name?” Claire asked, once she was sure that Bryant was listening.

“Deborah,” the doctor replied, almost dreamily.

“And how do you feel now, Deborah?”

“Cold,” she moaned, “Weak … wonderful.”

The buzzing resolved itself into words, each falling upon her with the weight of a thousand promises. Claire groaned, as the ice pierced her. It poured into her, filling her once more and making her hips pump and muscles spasm against the phantom invader.

She is weak. But, you … you are strong. Twice you have stepped between worlds, and still you hold onto yourself.

“But,” Claire managed to gasp, “What’s happening to me? Who are you?”

Nothing passes through this place without being changed. Despite your strength, you are not immune to this rule. I am a prisoner … but now you carry a piece of me within you. As does your … friend … although she is not nearly as worthy as you … and so little of her now remains.

“And her plan for me?” she asked, with surprising calm, “Do you know what she intended?”

An accident. But … do not judge her too harshly. She was weak and easily controlled. The plan to kill you came from elsewhere.

“Jenkins,” she breathed.

Yes … she is powerful, and is owed many favours … but, if you bring her to me … I will give you the vengeance that you seek ... for your father …

“My father?” Claire blurted.

The cancer, the one that no treatment could touch … you thought that was natural?

She was reeling, staggered both physically and mentally. Claire blundered into the second warp, and exited back into the hanger. The last thing she saw, as the corridor vanished, was Deborah squirming sensuously inside her second skin, as the fog poured over her once more.

Outside again, it was easier to think and easier to recognise the chill touch of the prisoner’s thoughts. She could feel its mark upon her, the ice that clung to her body and wrapped her heart. It could have been lying, but she found that she didn’t care. She was going to hand Jenkins over to it, and whatever the final outcome, so long as she got hers, that would be enough.

It occurred to Claire that her thoughts might not be entirely her own anymore. But, she could tell, in her heart that this is what she wanted, and no amount of subterfuge was this flawless. At least, that’s what she kept telling herself.

Claire realised that she didn’t have any kind of plan and she was running out of time. As soon as Deborah’s absence was noted, the base would go onto alert. After that, it would be almost impossible to do anything. She was certain that she hadn’t covered her tracks nearly cleverly enough. If an investigation started, then she would find herself having to answer some very difficult questions.

She fingered her base ID badge, and was about to head directly to the nearest armoury, when new knowledge simply trickled into her mind. The presence touched her lightly, the chill pale in comparison to what she had felt before. But it was enough, Deborah’s access codes flashed brilliantly behind her eyes, and as quickly as that, she had a better idea.

The message she sent was simple, there was no point in complicating the issue. The less she said, the more chance there was of making the deception work. Claire implied that the ‘job’ had been done, hinted that she felt a more substantial remuneration was required and demanded a meeting. Jenkins’ response was as prompt as it was terse. It was clear that the director wasn’t in the mood to renegotiate. But even the threat of exposure was apparently enough to make her re-evaluate.

Claire raced back to the hanger, eager to make the most of what little time she had. Nervously, she powered up the fields, half expecting Deborah to emerge from the second warp. But, instead, thin foggy streamers began to trickle down the steps. She could feel the temperature in the hanger begin to dip, and then the ice was coating her thoughts once more.

Jenkins crashed through the door, her face like thunder. But, as soon as she saw that the warp was active, her anger seemed to evaporate. Claire took the opportunity to put the chamber back into lockdown. She could feel the director’s uncertainty shifting towards fear.

“Bryant?” the woman called out, “Mysterious doesn’t suit you, girl. Now get out here, before you get yourself into even more trouble!”

Claire waited just a little longer, watching how Jenkins kept glancing anxiously at the warp field. Determination gripped her and she used the other woman’s distraction to move even closer. She had already discounted using the hypo again, its reservoir was nearly exhausted, but more importantly, she relished the opportunity to finally ‘get physical’ with the source of her irritation.

“Deborah couldn’t make it,” she said, enjoying the way that the director jumped.

Jenkins whirled, but by then, Claire had hopped nimbly onto the steps. She stretched out her hand, until it was almost touching the face of the disc. Energy crawled over her skin, but she forced herself to ignore the sensation.

“You’re coming with me,” she said calmly, “There are questions that I need answered.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jenkins replied, but her voice was shaking.

“Jenkins,” Claire began, “Perhaps you don’t understand. I’m stepping through the warp, and when I do it will flood the hanger with so much radiation that even a cockroach would have a hard time surviving. So, you can either join me, or die a particularly nasty death … like the one my father suffered.”

The tableaux held for a moment, while they tried to gauge each other’s resolve. But there was nothing except cold conviction behind the scientist’s eyes, and they both knew that she would do exactly as she threatened. Claire was too close to the field. If she so much as twitched, then some part of her would touch the event horizon and she would be sucked through.

“You’re mad!” Jenkins cried out, but that didn’t stop her from stepped reluctantly towards the warp.

Claire ignored her words, instead holding out her other hand and beckoning the director towards her. Hesitantly, Jenkins took her hand, and Claire gripped tight. Their eyes locked, and then the scientist just allowed herself to fall backwards, dragging the startled woman with her. Jenkins had an instant to scream, and then they were gone.

Claire rolled with the impact, coming back to her feet in the now-familiar corridor. Approval washed into her, nearly driving her back to the floor. But, the most delicious feeling, was the one she got when she looked into the director’s terrified face. It took her a moment to realise that Jenkins was staring past her, and she completed her own slow turn already half-expecting what sight would greet her.

Deborah had been freed from her membranous cocoon, but the soft tape had clearly been replaced with bonds of a different kind. The doctor knelt in the swirling mists, head raised, chest thrust forward and her arms clasped behind her. A thick transparent band adorned her throat, and instinctively, Claire knew that similar bands decorated the woman’s wrists and ankles.

Everything about the doctor’s posture spoke of helplessness, and the buzz of her thoughts was as open as her body. Claire sensed the director’s start of horror, and knew that she could feel some of it too. She turned back to Jenkins and struggled not to laugh, as the woman tried to push her way back through the warp.

“It only works one way,” she grinned, with evil humour, “To get out, you have to reach the far end. Deborah tried, but as you can see, she didn’t make it. She wasn’t very strong, in the end. Although, I suspect that you already knew that. Do you think you’ll be strong enough, Jenkins? Or will the two of you end up side by side, sisters under the skin?”

“Fuck you!” Jenkins screamed, and suddenly she had a weapon trained on the scientist.

Claire recognised the holdout graser, but couldn’t understand how the director has gotten hold of it. The woman’s fear still predominated, but now it was bolstered by a level of bravado that you only got from high-energy weapons. Claire did her best to ignore the culminating barrel, and tried to keep her voice level.

“What good do you think that’s going to do you?” Claire asked carefully.

“Shut up!” the director screeched, “And get me the hell out of here.”

“I told you,” Claire explained patiently, “The only exit is at the other end of this path.”

“No more lies!” the other woman screamed, her eyes wild, “Tell me, or so help me I’ll kill you where you stand.”

Claire let the sigh die before it was born, and then flinched away from the director’s ire, taking a stumbling backward step. Predictably, keen to press her advantage, Jenkins matched her, triumph shining from her twisted features. Claire caught the slight widening of her eyes, and took another step.

“You can feel it now,” she asked softly, “Can’t you Jenkins?”

Jenkins merely shivered, and the derringer began to waver even more. Claire saw the knuckles whiten, almost at the same moment as the director’s thoughts seemed to crystallise out of the relentless buzzing. She couldn’t keep herself from tensing, even though she felt sure that she knew what would happen. The other woman’s response was almost comical, gazing at her weapon in confused panic.

“Tech doesn’t work the same here,” Claire explained, “That’s why this place never showed up in any of the test runs. So, now that you’ve shot your bolt … and missed, I still have my questions. Think very carefully before you answer, the choice of whether you get to walk out of here, or end up like Deborah, is entirely up to you.”

For a moment, Claire thought that the woman was going to try to rush her, and she shifted her weight in preparation. But, the frost was already affecting her, and without the weapon to use as a talisman, Jenkins’ resolve was rapidly crumbling. The director wasn’t quite ready to give up and roll over, but the moment was fast approaching.

“What?” Jenkins asked almost too softly to be heard.

“Why did you kill my father?” she hissed, shocked at her own venom.

If she was surprised by the question, it didn’t show on the director’s face. Her shoulders slumped just a little more, and the mist began to wrap itself around her. Jenkins groaned, and the buzzing shifted again. Claire felt the reply, even before the words had been uttered.

“Because he was stupid,” Jenkins said bitterly, “Because he wouldn’t be bought, and because he was going to expose me.”

“Expose you?” Claire asked reflexively, but she already knew the answer, “You sold us out?”

The director didn’t speak, but her thoughts had become almost deafening. She had been contacted by old enemies, still eager to continue the futile cycle of death and destruction. They made her a better offer, and all she had to do was give up our secrets. But betrayal was never as simple as it first appeared, and my father’s curiosity had turned him into another complication.

“And me?” she gasped, sickened by the woman before her, “Why kill me?”

“Because you’re your father’s daughter,” Jenkins spat, “And because if you killed yourself after the first test, it would delay the research long enough for the other side to use your data to take the lead.”

Claire’s blood chilled, she had expected something more than just grudges and expediency. But, she didn’t have the luxury of doubt. She could hear the other woman’s thoughts, as clearly as if she were speaking them out loud. Jenkins didn’t care about anyone or anything, except herself. Angrily, Claire took hold of the director’s wrist and began to lead her down the corridor.

“Come on, Jill,” she shouted, as she dragged the other woman along, “Time to take a walk.”

She had plucked the name out of the mishmash of thoughts and ideas, but the other woman didn’t seem to notice. Claire knew that Jill’s strength was draining out of her with each step, and yet her own seemed to be growing. If anything, the director seemed to be fading even more rapidly than Deborah had.

“You see that,” Claire told her angrily, stabbing a finger towards the doctor, “That’s you, in just another couple of steps.”

Jill’s only response was a series of increasingly desperate whimpers. Her struggles had all but ceased, and she just let Claire draw her on. The scientist exulted, sensing that her enemy was all but defeated. Then, the presence took them both in its icy grip, and held them tight.

Thank you … she will be sufficient for my purposes … you have done well. She has power, as well as a certain moral flexibility … and yet her will is weak. This one will not survive the transition … unchanged.

Claire tried to break the presence’s hold on her, but it was useless. All of her earlier strength just seemed to have melted away. She could only watch, as the fog finished wrapping Jill’s body. A process that was strangely reminiscent of how she had trapped Deborah before. The other woman’s eyes flashed into brilliant blue, as if illuminated by an inner light.

Jill stretched, flexing her body experimentally, and then returned her gaze to the frozen woman. Except, long before that happened, Claire had already guessed that this wasn’t Jill anymore. Ice tightened around her body, forming the same shackles that Deborah wore. Jill stepped over to the scientist, and with the lightest touch, pushed her down onto her knees.

“Claire,” she whispered in greeting, her voice brimming with icy promises, “It is time for your reward.”

“Who are you?” Claire moaned, even those three words costing almost more than she had to give.

“You have earned that right,” she replied after a moment, “I am Facet, and this is my prison.”

She slipped her fingers into the neck of Claire’s suit, and in one quick movement, ripped the material down to the kneeling woman’s navel. Claire mewled softly, suddenly exposed, and then Facet pushed her gently, knocking her onto her back.

“Accept me, Claire,” she breathed, suddenly close, “and there will be nothing that is beyond us.”

“And if I choose not to?” Claire asked, feeling the weight of her bonds double.

Facet gestured towards Deborah, and left the threat unspoken. But even without her thoughts buzzing in Claire’s brain, the woman’s meaning would have been clear. Weak as she was, the scientist couldn’t afford to simply trade one enemy for another, and, appealing as Deborah looked in her new role, it was not a position that Claire was keen to occupy.

“Okay,” she agreed, choosing her fate and also sealing it.

Claire’s frozen collar tightened and then Facet was pressing against her. The fog seemed to entwine their bodies, and the other woman’s touch held both fire and ice. Small hands cupped her breasts, burning their imprint into the taut skin. She cried out as first one and then both nipples were caught and trapped. A tiny sliver of frost slid into her tender flesh, piercing and making her scream.

Agony and ecstasy warred within her, every sensation pushing her pleasure to the boundaries, finding the limits where it blended into the most delicious pain. Facet’s hands became her world, as they stroked and pinched their way over her body. Then, just as the frozen flames began to lift her, the other woman’s hand closed over her shivering mound and ran in streams of absolute cold, up and down the wet promise of her slit.

Claire screamed, wanting to cum, needing that release, and yet somehow knowing that it was being denied her. She never reached the brink; Facet just kept lifting her, higher and higher. Her fingers dipped inside, working more urgently and leaving silvery trails in their wake. She froze Claire’s clit, coating the trembling nub in a glacial sheen, and then left it to burn.

In contrast, Facet’s lips were hot, melting her in ways that left her unable to do more than shudder. Claire’s body lurched between the two extremes, as it was repeatedly forged and quenched. Then, when everything had contracted down to that undeniable need, Facet’s mouth closed over her frost-caked pussy. Her tongue slipped past Claire’s glisten lips and into the ice-filled channel. The scientist’s cunt seemed to explode, steam igniting into an expanding ball of absolute fulfilment.

Claire came, every part of her body, every molecule of her being, united in that perfect moment. A moment that stretched on and on, reverberating in the confines of Mobius space for an eternal instant. Feedback and echoes drove her down into darkness, even as she soared towards the light.

They stepped through the warp, and into a world forever changed by their actions. Deborah and Claire were naked, save for their Mistress’ icy bands. Only Facet had retained her jumpsuit, and that was really only for appearance’s sake. Claire glanced at the other two women, recognising how little of her enemies remained. She could feel the faintest echoes of Jill’s anger, but from Deborah came only open acceptance. The doctor seemed happy with her lot, and in that at least they shared a common bond.

The thought made Claire reach up and stroke the cool surface of her collar. Facet had been as good as her word. Her father’s killers had been punished, and his work completed. The strange woman had promised Claire that she would never be forced to act against her conscience and that she would never be asked to betray either friend or country.

It was a near perfect arrangement. Claire switched the old director for someone more amenable to her way of thinking. She was able to continue her work, thereby supply Facet with an eager stream of new recruits. But, best of all, she started and finished each day with her new lover. Even the changes wrought by her passage through the misty corridor were minimal. At least, that’s what Facet said, and the one thing that Claire knew with certainty was that she could be trusted.