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From: A Strange Geek <astraYOURngegMINDeek@comcast.net>
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Subject: {ASSM} Subject MC5 Has Escaped <*> (MF Mdom mc nc scifi)
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Date: Thu, 11 May 2006 09:10:02 -0400
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<1st attachment, "SubjectMCFive.txt" begin>

WARNING: This is a work of erotic fiction. It contains depictions of
nudity and graphic sex.

Author: A Strange Geek
Title: Subject MC5 Has Escaped
Summary: An experimental test subject escapes from a government
facility and is on the run from the law, as well as as own conscience.

Keywords: MF, Mdom, mc, nc, scifi

Copyright A Strange Geek, 2006

Feedback welcome! Please email me at astraYOURngegeek@comMINDcast.net
( lose YOUR MIND to email me )

Or to send anonymous feedback, use the form at bottom of HTML version:

/~A_Strange_Geek/short_stories/SubjectMCFive.html

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This was originally written for a writing contest on the
MCforums site. The idea was to take a popular movie and base a work of
mind control fiction off a premise or plot device in the movie. I won't
mention which movie it is, but if you spot it and see a similar theme,
this is intentional. Please, no "you ripped off ..." emails. This is
NOT fan-fiction. The plot and characters are entirely my own creation.

---------------

Bastard.

Yeah, fine, don't stop, you fucker. I'm a serial killer. I'm a rapist.
I'm some bum that's gonna carjack you soon as you stop. I broke out of
the mental ward. I'm a psycho off his meds. I'm a druggie looking for
my next crack fix.

Fuck.

I probably look exactly like any of those. I wouldn't stop for me
either.

Hey, you know what's really freakin' hilarious? Get this: I'm more
dangerous than any of them put together. So how come I'm left walking
the side of the road in a dirty trench coat, three days of growth on my
face, in need of a shower and a meal, trying to thumb a ride from
anyone that's dumb enough to stop for me?

Because either they didn't finish the programming, or I'm just a
dumbfuck after all.

A truck comes up behind me. He doesn't stop either. Or the minivan
after him. Hell, he sped up when he saw me. Had a load of kids. Yeah, I
probably look like a pedophile, too. Amazing what people fill in when
they have little information to go on.

Problem is, I'm getting frustrated. I get frustrated, I get tense. I
get tense, I start bursting. Goddamn. I really am a dumbfuck. I
should've put off my escape til they fixed that.

Oh, wait, another car coming. Damn, can't see who's inside, windows are
tinted. Is he slowing down? Yeah, he ... no he's not! ... fuck! /FUCK!/

Suddenly there's a screech, burned rubber, and the car comes to a stop.

Shit. Burst. Please, just be a neuromotor response. Please.

I run up to the car. I don't know who is in it, but I can sense one
mind. I stop at the passenger side and try to smile. Then a gentle
push. /Gentle/. Just lower the window.

The window hums and lowers, and I blink in surprise. It's a woman.

Geez, she's gorgeous. A real sight for sore eyes. Tall, sort of
sandy-haired. Big blue eyes to get lost in. Wearing a blouse that's
tight enough to show off her figure, not so tight that it looks slutty.
Nice skirt, showing off her legs.

I finally notice one of those legs has the brake stomped to the floor.
I look in her mind. Thank you. Neuromotor response only. I smooth it
over, she eases off the brake.

She's frightened. No, come on, babe, I'm not going to hurt you. Really.
See my smile? Okay, just another nudge. Easy, easy. That's better.
She's a little more relaxed. Her eyes don't have the
deer-in-the-headlights look anymore. Still nervous, though. That's
okay. Get out of her mind, Jack. Don't push it, no matter how much
those government bastards would want you to do if you were still back
in their lab.

I try to make my voice sound as soft as possible. "I just need a ride
to the next town. That's all. Really appreciate it if you could help a
guy who's just had a bad break or two."

Okay, I have to nudge her again. But just a little. She has a Good
Samaritan streak in her. She feels guilty for almost going past me,
though she's obviously confused about why she stopped. I smile again.
That's it, just relax. I'm harmless.

She unlocks the door. I scramble in and we are on our way. And I have
another few hours freedom.



Shit. Half hour into the drive, radio news announces the APB for me. I
have to get in her head again, make the information just flit through
her mind without sticking. She still glances at me nervously, but keeps
driving. Damn, that was close.

Okay, no more. Stay the fuck out of her head. I have to keep trying to
convince myself I don't want to use this power. Damn, but it's a rush.
Knowing you can just walk through someone's head like that. Dammit, no!
The fuckers in the government did this to you! All you had was that
damn mutation. Hardly did more than just make people like me and get me
laid more often than most guys. Then those monsters blow it up into
this!

So I let her drive on. Plan is to have her let me off at a truck stop
or something where I can get a shower, then just mentally nudge someone
into dropping a ten spot so I can get a decent meal. Until it dawns on
me. Everyone else heard the APB, too. This gal is the only one in the
three state area that hasn't.

I look at her. Damn, she's pretty. Wouldn't mind ...

No.

Concentrate. Just your immediate needs.

I start working on her. I strike up a conversation. Much easier to do
while she's talking, all those neural whatchamacallits lighting up in
her head, makes it easier to find the right paths. Gentle, Jack,
gentle! You don't know how much power they gave you!

Okay, it's working. I get her to smile at me. She's got a pretty smile,
too. Oops, she's anxious again, the whole "why am I doing this" shtick.
Something else is bothering her, too. I don't push at it. It's
something she can't deal with right now.

I'm having trouble juggling her emotions. Am I being too delicate?
Fuck, I don't want to alter her. I push a little harder. Okay, I think
that's fine. She's relaxing again. Still troubled, though, and
confused.

Damn, this better be all I need to do. I don't want to mess with her
head any more than this.



Amazing the wonders a hot shower does for you.

I even manage to get over my guilt. I had to get in her mind again. She
got real skittish when we were in the house alone. I had to kinda keep
my distance from her. Even then I had to suppress her urge to call the
cops.

Okay, in and out. Shower, a little schmoozing to get some money, and
outta here. I'll take my chances. No more messing with this cutie.

I get out the shower and look at myself in the mirror. I look halfway
decent again. Sure wish I can do something about the stubble, though.
For the hell of it, I glance in the medicine cabinet. My lucky day. A
man's razor and shaving cream.

Wait, a man's ...? Aw, shit. She's married, or living with someone. I
gotta get out of here before he gets home.

I shave as fast as I dare, dress, and go looking for her. I surprise
her in the kitchen. She gives me this look, like she never saw me
before. Yeah, babe, I'm not the lunatic you thought I was, huh? Anyway,
I just need some money for a meal. Another little nudge to make her
more willing.

But she doesn't give me the money. She invites me to stay for dinner.

Shit. I messed with her too much, that's it. She can't possibly want me
to stay. But she's adamant about it. Claims she's a good cook. In a
panic, I look in her mind. Personality okay. Emotions are jumbled, but
not sure if that's my doing or not.

I agree to stay.



Her name is Carol.

She gets friendly with me while she makes dinner and it comes out. She
lives alone. Divorced. Damn. She doesn't say it but I can see in her
mind. It was really painful for her. This is the first time she's
cooked for anyone other than herself in over a year. She's lonely.

She wants to know about me. I have to make up a cock-and-bull story. I
tell her my name's Jack, give her a sob story about losing my job,
tough economy, blah blah blah. Truth is, I'm not sure what my real name
was. To the feds I'm "Subject MC5". Yeah, I know what you're thinking.
Where's MC1 through MC4. "Not entirely successful" the feds said. Which
means their brains turned to mulch.

Could've happened to me. Decided to get the fuck out of there before it
did.

She looks like she's going to burst into tears at one point. I can't
stand seeing that. I smooth things out for her, make her feel better.
It passes.

Shit, I did it again. I messed with her mind. I have to stop.



Carol wasn't kidding. She's a damn good cook. Best meal I had in years.

My instinct says to leave. She's going to cry again. Why? I don't get
it. I can't leave her like that. I get in her head again, try to smooth
it out. Instead, I trigger something else. I can't do the delicate
stuff as well. Suddenly she's telling me things that are very private.

How much she missed Dave, her ex; how lonely she's been without him;
how she's not so much as dated anyone else after the divorce. I try to
stop her, but something's wrong. I've screwed with her too much,
removed some inhibition somewhere. She tells me about him. Intimate
details. What he liked to do with her in bed.

Goddamn.



I'm sorry.

It's too tempting, dammit. That's what's wrong with this power. It's
too easy. I can't help it. I hadn't been with a woman for so long.
She's already pining for her lost ex. She hadn't had sex since they
divorced. It doesn't take much.

A few nudges, and her defenses come down. She's getting affectionate,
snuggling with me on the sofa. I try to restrain myself, but it's hard.
I keep telling myself I'll stop. No more. Just take this and be happy
with it.

But then I feel her all warm and soft against me and I just naturally
want more. I mean, come on, what guy wouldn't try to make the move on
her now? Fine, make a move, don't get into her mind, don't ...

Aw, shit.

It's almost a reflex.

I had tried pulling her closer to me and felt her resist just a bit. I
couldn't stop myself. I was in her mind before I realized it. Why did
they have to make it so damn automatic, those bastards!

Now when I pull her close, there's no hesitation. I kiss her and she
kisses back. It just cascades from there. I want her so badly now. She
kisses me harder and starts to moan. I find myself apologizing to her
even as I'm making her horny as hell. She's barely listening to me.

She starts to take her clothes off. I tell her to stop. I want to do it
myself. It's just something I like to do with a girl. To me it's like
unwrapping a present.

It's only halfway through this that I realize I'm almost torturing her.
I got her so aroused she's trembling and panting. I should go in and
smooth it out, pull her back a bit, but I can't. I'm getting off on
this.

Fuck. Did the feds make me a damn pervert or was I just this way all
the time?

It's worse because I just want to look at her while I'm stripping her.
God, she's pretty. Can't believe some guy would leave a chick like
this. Nice, full tits, not too big. Nipples already hard thanks to me.
She moans when I take her panties off. They're soaked through. Oh man,
she shaves. Completely. Damn, I like that.

I like it so much I want a taste of it.

I sit her on the sofa and spread her. She's quivering. Her pussy is
practically dripping. She starts moaning like crazy soon as I start
licking her, and she doesn't stop. Maybe giving her pleasure like this
first will make me feel less guilty for messing with her mind in the
first place.

But really, I didn't harm her! I didn't do anything permanent! Once I'm
gone, she'll go back to normal. She /will/. I didn't want a fucking sex
slave.

She's so excited, she's cumming already. I just keep going. She's
writhing like crazy. I send her up again. I'm not doing this. I'm not
making her super-sensitive or something. She's cumming like this on her
own. She's just one really sexy chick.

And some guy /left/ her. Fucking asshole.

After that, I'm just to damn hard to want to wait any longer. She's
still excited.

We go into her bedroom. She's desperate for me to get my clothes off.
She wants me really bad. She kisses me again, hard. She's crazy with
lust. Holy shit. I have to look in her mind to see if I did that. Only
some of it. A lot of it is from her.

It makes me feel a little better.

I don't hold back anymore. I grab her and pull her onto the bed. I want
her, and I want her /now/. She can't open her legs fast enough for me.
No delicacy anymore, I just plunge into her.

And she /loves/ it.

Am I making her love it? I can't tell, I'm too caught up in it. She's
goddamn wet, I know that. She clutches at me, her nails biting into my
arms. I'm fucking her hard, and she's still begging for more. She's
panting so hard, I'm almost worried she can't breathe.

Oh, man. She's cumming again. Her hips keep bucking under me. I pound
into her even harder, forcing her to remain still. She lifts herself to
me, making me really go deep. Our bodies are slapping together like in
some fucking cheap porno flick. And she's just eating this up, begging
me not to stop.

Finally I'm getting to the end. I'm ready to go. Her cries are getting
more shrill. She's building up to a big one. Oh man, she's hot. Shit,
what I wouldn't do to be able to just stay here and ...

No way. I can't. I said I didn't want a sex slave, and that's all she'd
be to me.

I get there first. Oh fuck! Her cunt just suddenly squeezes around my
cock really hard as I start to cum, and then she's practically
screaming like a banshee. Shit, I can actually feel her pussy
throbbing. Oh man. Never had it that good.

In fact, this is the first time I've had sex since they started
conditioning me.

Fuck. Does this mean it will be this good every time? Just because I
can mess with her mind?

We're panting like crazy when it's over. We're both sweating. Shit, I
need a shower again. I flit into her mind again, just one last time.
She's happy. Very happy. I can only hope that will ease the shock later
once she figures out what happened.



Damn. Somehow the feds picked up the scent.

Traveling by day is just not possible anymore. First time I did that,
they nearly got me. Had to just lash out and temporarily mind-blank
some of them until I could get away. Shit. I /hope/ it was temporary.

So now I move only at night. I have to break into houses like a common
thief to get food and supplies. I seem to have some skills in that
area. Fuck, was I just some street thug before the feds started messing
with me?

I manage to avoid getting caught for a bit. Most of what I want is in
the kitchen anyway. My luck runs out about the fourth night. Suddenly I
look up and there's someone standing in the doorway.

Both of us are too stunned to move for a moment. Her because there's
some creep in her house, me because she's a pretty redhead in a
see-through nightgown and no underwear.

I manage to recover first and I get into her mind. I calm her enough
that she doesn't scream, but she's backing away. I stop her, but it's
hard. She's really fighting me, and I don't want to damage her. Shit, I
need to distract her somehow! Just occupy her until I can get what I
want and leave.

An idea comes to me, and before I can stop it, it just happens.

Suddenly she's trembling. She staggers and clutches at the door frame.
She starts panting, her eyes open wide in both fear and astonishment.
She tries to think, tries to go back to wanting to get away, but it's
too strong for her to ignore. She moans and slowly sinks to her knees.
Seconds later, she's whimpering and her hips are jerking as she cums.

Yeah, that's right, I'm a fucking pervert after all. I'm making her
have an orgasm. But at least it will distract her and it's pleasant for
her.

She tries to say something to me as I quickly grab what I need from her
fridge, but I'm still in her mind. Just don't fight it babe. I'm giving
you another one. Just ride it out. I'll be gone soon.

She collapses to the floor, moaning loudly, pleasure overwhelming her.
She gasps when she cums again.

I take one last look at her. Damn. I'd really like to ...

No. Not this time. I've done more than enough.

I trip into her brain again and set her to have one more really nice
one as I make my getaway.



I have to stop this.

I have to find a haven somewhere.

I get caught three more times. Each time by a lovely lady. Dammit, why
always the women? Two times I resist my urges, the third time I don't.

She was awake already. A sexy little petite brunette. She obviously
isn't expecting to actually see someone in her kitchen. In fact, she's
already chastising someone named "Fluffster" as she comes in, which I
assume is her cat. Shit, I hope it is. Hate to think of a dog going
through life with a dumb name like that.

When she sees me, I know exactly what she was doing. She's naked, her
pussy's wet, and so are some of the fingers of one of her hands.

Fuck, how can I resist that?

This time I try a different tack. When I get in her head, I don't try
to calm her. Instead, I turn up the heat on her desire. She's already
wet and excited. I make her hot and horny. She's so aroused she can't
think. Or at least not think about screaming or calling the cops. It's
easier when she's already halfway there.

Even then, she's way too compliant when I take her on the sofa. She
barely fights me, either physically or mentally. Soon as I'm inside
her, she's jamming her hips against me. No matter how hard I fuck her,
she wants it harder.

I get into her mind. Shit. She has rape fantasies, and I'm fulfilling
one. She's even disappointed I'm not slapping her around or being
brutal with her. Sorry, babe, that ain't my style. I smooth it out and
soon she's enjoying what I give her a lot more.

I leave her with a smile on her face. At least with her and her dark
fantasies, I know it will stick.



I'm being tracked. I know I am. Someone is following me. How do I know?
I just know.

In case you haven't figured it out yet, I can do more than just rewire
people's neurons. I can read them. Well, a little. I can't pluck out of
your head the thing you always wanted that you got for Christmas when
you were seven, but if you're giving me a look I don't like, I can tell
what your intentions are. "Surface thoughts" they call them.

And I can sense when people are near me. No two minds are alike. And
I've sensed the same one, hovering just out of reach of my abilities,
for the past few days.

And now it looks like my luck has run out.

Barely after dusk, and they're on me. Every fucking FBI agent in
America must've been brought to that little town I'm in. Too many of
them. They finally figured out a weakness. I can't just sweep through
people with my power. I have to focus on one at a time. No way can I
hold off an onslaught. Only my ability to sense them coming keeps me
free a little while longer.

Or alive. I hear bullets crack by overhead. Guess they figure I could
still be a use to them dead.

Suddenly I'm cut off. Big black limo pulls up as I'm trying to cross a
road. Fuck, why didn't I sense it? Why ...

The door opens. A woman's voice says, "Get in."

Now I understand. I was focusing on people with the intent to kill or
capture me, so I didn't sense her. Which means she's not with them.
That's good enough for me.

I scramble in and I'm barely inside when the woman barks an order to
the driver and the limo peels away from the curb, nearly throwing me
back out.

"You're safe now," the woman says.

I look at her. She has dark hair, done in a big pony-tail. Large-lensed
glasses. Can't see much detail of her body. It's dark and she dresses
conservatively. Gives me this prim-and-proper look.

I check out her mind. No need to do anything with her. No hostile
intentions.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Joanne. That's all you need to know."

"Fuckin' hell it isn't. I ..."

"You are /safe/. I will tell you more later, now ..."

"Ma'am?" says the driver suddenly. "Roadblock."

"Take care of them."

"Yes, ma'am."

Take care of them? What the hell did she mean by that?

Somehow I expect this dude to floor it and plow through the blockade
with a gun blazing in his hand. Shit. Been watching too many bad spy
movies back at the government compound.

We stop at that blockade. Feds swarm around us. Some peer right in but
don't see anything. One-way glass, I figure. Driver speaks softly to
them. Can't hear what he's saying, but whatever it is, a minute later
we're passed on through.

Goddamn.

Joanne touches my hand. "Please," she says. "Just relax. They will not
follow."

Maybe that was true of the feds. But no sooner than we left the
roadblock behind that I feel that other mind again, just out of reach.



Holy shit. This chick has serious money.

Yeah, I'm safe. Feds don't bother people with money like this. Not if
the politicos don't want to lose their nice fat wads of campaign
contributions. I'm still suspicious, though. Not because of Joanne. I
do feel a little bit of excitement from her, but that's all. No
duplicity whatsoever. In a way, it's almost as if she's letting me into
her mind.

We drive up to this huge-ass mansion. Joanne doesn't say much to me.
Once we're in the place, I can see her more clearly. She's actually
attractive, but hides it. Slim build, hint of nice legs under her
full-length skirt. Two pert orbs on her chest. Full lips.

She sees me noticing her, and her eyes shy away from mine. "This way,"
she says crisply.

She takes me to a really posh suite. Huge bed, kitchenette, plasma HDTV
with surround-sound, the works. Bathroom even has a freaking Jacuzzi.
Dresser has fresh clothes. Fuck, I could get used to this.

"If you need anything, ring for the servants," Joanne says and starts
to leave.

"Hey, wait!"

She stops at the door and turns. "Yes?"

"Why the hell are you doing all this?"

She adjusts her glasses and gives me a prim look. "I do what the owner
of this house tells me to do."

"Wait, you're not the owner? Then who is?"

"I cannot tell you that now. You will know soon enough. For now, you
are safe."

"Yeah, so you claim."

"If I were law enforcement, why go through this ruse? Why did I not
turn you over at the roadblock?"

I don't have an answer for that.

"You are safe, and you will know more in the morning. Good night," she
says, and quickly leaves.



I treat myself with a soak in the Jacuzzi, shave, fix my hair. I think
about calling a servant for some dinner, but the kitchenette has enough
stuff, so I just snack in front of the tube for a bit. I start to feel
human again.

But I can't shake the feeling that something is wrong.

That mind is still out there. Still just out of reach. Still lingering.
Now I wonder if it's just me. Maybe they fucked with my sanity as well
as my genetics. Shit, I hope not. If I start going crazy, I could hurt
someone with this power. I'd rather be dead than do that.

I decide to turn in, but sleep doesn't come to me, even with as
comfortable the bed is. After sitting in the dark for awhile, I sense
something out in the hall. Seconds later, the door to my suite opens.

"Hello."

It's Joanne. Before I can say anything, she steps inside and closes the
door. She quietly pads over to my bed and turns on the lamp on the
night table. She's dressed in a full-length nightgown.

"What do you want?" I ask.

She pauses and looks at me. She's scared. I flit into her mind. She's
excited as well.

"I know what you can do," she says softly.

I stare at her and sit up in bed, tensing as if someone is about to
attack me.

"You can get into people's minds. You can change them. You can mold
them." Her voice is husky.

I frown at her. "I don't want to. I do it because I have to."

"Even when you enjoy it?

"I don't enjoy it!"

"Liar."

I blink in surprise.

She sits down on the edge of the bed. "You can make women have sex with
you."

"What the fuck would you know about that?"

"You can make a woman act any way you please. You can make her sexy.
You can make her lustful. You ... you can enslave her if you wished."

I stare at her. "Look, why the hell are you telling me this? Trying to
make me feel guilty? Intend to blackmail me or something? Don't pull
/any/ of that shit on me."

Now she pauses. She looks like she's struggling with something. "I want
... I want you to ... to do it to me."

Now I really do stare at her. Was she some kind of lunatic?

"You need to do it," she says. Her eyes are intense. "You'll never stop
using your power. You like it too much."

"I had to use it," I insist, though the conviction is weak. Yeah, sure.
Just like I /had/ to fuck Carol, or I /had/ to fuck that brunette with
the rape fantasies. Right.

Joanne slides closer to me. "You want to stop using it on all those
women? You want to stop messing with their heads? Then take someone who
wants to be taken ... Take me."

She can't be serious! Fuming, I enter her head, intending to show her
what a silly notion this was.

Fuck. She's not lying.

She does want it. She almost feels a sense of duty to it. But she's
still scared. And she has a ton of inhibitions in the way. But she's
willing. And she's also excited.

I'm still not sure I could do it.

"You want to do it!" she exclaims softly, as if sensing my hesitation.
"You know you do. Stop denying it."

Damn her. "And if I fuck it up? If I leave you freaking brainless?"

"You won't. You're too good at it."

"Yeah? How the fuck do you know?"

She pauses. "I can't tell you that now. But it's very important you do
this for me now."

"Why? Let me guess ... you can't tell me that right now, either."

She gives me a forlorn look. I can sense in her mind that she doesn't
like keeping me in the dark either. That makes me feel a little better
about it.

"All right. I'll try."

Joanne gives me a small smile and stands. She slips her glasses off and
puts them on the night stand. Damn, she has really beautiful brown eyes
now that they're not behind the lenses. She looks at me expectantly.

I don't know whether she expects a fanfare or not. She'll be
disappointed if she does.

First off, she's too scared. I smooth that out.

"Are ... are you doing it?" Joanne asks softly. "I feel more relaxed."

"Yes, that was the first bit," I tell her. "Now ... just hush."

Now her inhibitions. I can't just rip them out. I have to take then
down slowly. Gently. Like taking apart a wall brick by brick.

A look of astonishment slowly crosses Joanne's face. She's feeling
thoughts and desires that she always had bottled up. Maybe that's
another reason she wants me to do this to her. Now they were tumbling
through her mind. Some of them were erotic in nature. I find those and
focus them.

Joanne's lips part. Her eyes take on a more sultry look. Her body
untenses. She stands less rigidly and more like how I think a woman
should.

Now I pause. I have an attack of conscience. I'm seriously messing with
her mind. I'm not entirely sure I could put everything back. I start to
reverse it a bit, just to make sure I can.

Joanne gasps. "No, don't!" she cries. Her voice is a little breathy.
Side-effect of what I'm doing to her, I didn't "program" her for that.
"Please! Don't take it back! If you can't go forward, don't take back
what you've given me."

Fuck. She's terrified I'd put her back the way she was, and I'm barely
finished with her. She hates all those inhibitions that much.

"It's all right, babe. I won't do that."

"Please keep going. Please ..."

I continue. And then I know I can't stop. She's right. I do enjoy it
too much. Dammit.

I smooth out pathways in her mind, the ones to the sexy, erotic
thoughts. I don't make them overwhelm her. I just make it so they
easily bubble up to the surface. I put in a very simple trigger.

It's only after I stand up and look at her that I have a scary thought.

It was so easy. I knew how to do all of it. I never had put a trigger
in before. Yet when I take her hand, it works perfectly. In seconds
she's panting lightly and quivering with desire.

I have her slip out of her nightgown, and then her underwear. She does
it willingly. Her biggest inhibition was being nude, and now she strips
herself with ease. She's gorgeous. Her tits are small, but as
beautifully shaped as I had thought they would be.

"You've changed me, haven't you?" Joanne says softly, looking at me
wide-eyed. "You must have."

"As you wanted."

"Yes ... as I wanted."

I touch her again, sliding my hand up her arm, caressing her cheek. She
moans and becomes horny. The more I touch her, the more aroused she
gets, until she's trembling and softly begging me for relief.

I take her into bed and make her please me every way that I like. I go
into her mind to make her enjoy it as well, but there is little I have
to do. She's had enough of her own thoughts and fantasies bottled up
for so long she doesn't need any help.

All that's missing is skill. She's not a virgin, but she's not
experienced. I guide her. Damn, I never knew "training" someone like
this could be so enjoyable. She's eager to learn. I didn't program that
into her. She just /is/ that way.

Maybe now I'll stop feeling guilty for making her into a sex slave.

Well, partial sex slave. When we both get tired and I can no longer
respond, I mentally nudge her erotic thoughts back. She calms and
relaxes in my arms. She's no longer a slave, not totally. She knows I
can bring her back into it at any time if I touch her the right way.
Now my touch just makes her content.

As she drifts off to sleep, I sift through her mind. Her personality is
intact. Muted, but intact. I feel a sense of relief.

Shit. She was right. I am too good to mess her up.

And that scares the crap out of me.



I awake with a start.

It's just before dawn. The sky outside is getting lighter. Joanne is
still curled up asleep next to me. It's all really calm and peaceful.
But I'm suddenly tense.

Takes me only seconds to figure it out. That mind I had detected, the
one that was following me all that time, it's a lot closer. And getting
even closer. Fast.

Fuck!

I jump out of bed and start getting dressed in a hurry. Joanne wakes up
and looks at me questioningly.

"So was that the plan all along, huh?" I snap at her. "Distract me with
your stupid sex slave fantasies?"

"What? I don't understand."

I check her mind. She's being sincere. Shit. It would have been so easy
just to blame her for this.

"Well, all right. But someone is using you to get to me, babe."

"Using me? Oh, wait, no, you don't understand, that's ..."

"Oh, I understand plenty! And I'm getting the fuck out of here before I
understand just a little too much!"

I race out of there, Joanne calling to me and begging me to stop. I
consider trying to undo some of what I did to her last night, but I
can't do it delicately enough in a hurry. Dammit. She'll always be left
with that little bit of need that will never be satisfied. Now I hate
this bastard even more.

I try to find my way out of the house. It's a fucking maze. That mind
is really close. It's in the mansion with me. I can't risk getting
caught and taken back to the feds. I lash out at the mind, intending to
seize it long enough to blank it for a bit, just enough to ...

Suddenly I'm on the floor, and my head feels like someone just drove a
spike into it.

I hear people running up to me. They pick me up from the floor. My
limbs feel like lead and I get dry heaves from the pain in my head.

"I am sorry about that, Jack. I didn't expect you to try to attack me.
You didn't give me time for finesse. You're that good."

It's a woman's voice. Not Joanne's. Shit, I wish everything would stop
spinning.

"Here, put him in the chair, he'll be fine in a few moments. I didn't
do any permanent damage. Then leave us."

I'm so out of it I don't realize they're carrying me all this time. I'm
dropped into a comfortable chair. Something touches my forehead. I try
to flail at it, but my arms are only barely responding.

"Stop trying to fight, you'll only make it worse."

The woman's voice again. This time it sounds soothing to me. Fuck.
She's doing something to me. I want to resist it until I realize that
the pain is going away and my limbs are responding again. Finally my
senses return to me enough to know there's a hand on my forehead.

I blink a few times and now I can see the rest of her. She gives me a
small smile as she withdraws her slim hand from me. She's an older
lady, but still attractive, with long, straight blond hair and intense
blue-gray eyes. She's also in a wheelchair. Behind her is Joanne,
looking at me with concern. She's still nude.

"Is the pain gone?" the wheelchair lady asks.

"Uh, yeah, it is." Very tentatively, I reach out to her mentally. She's
the same mind I've been detecting all along. And she's completely
closed to me.

Her lips curl. "Yes, I can feel you trying to probe me. You'll forgive
me if I shield against it for now."

I'm suddenly very alert, but I don't feel the need to run for the
moment. "Okay, so how the fuck are you doing it?"

"Because I'm just like you, Jack. I have the same genetic mutation you
do. The same one that gives you your powers."

"The government bastards gave me this power!" I spat.

She shakes her head. "No. You had it all along. They just helped you
focus it."

"Yeah, sure, focus it. Tell that to MC1 through MC4."

"I regret I did not learn of their experiment until now. Had we got to
them first and used our own methods to help bring out their powers,
they ..."

"Wait a minute, lady. Who the hell is 'we'?"

"My organization," she says. "A group of people like you. People who
have the same mutation. My name is Professor Melinda Zanna. I help
train people like you to use their powers properly."

I snort at her. "Yeah, I guess I fail that, huh?"

"On the contrary, Jack, you're a rare success story for someone that
hasn't been trained by me."

"I haven't exactly been 'proper'."

"You misunderstand me. You have a gift. You are expected to use it."

"Like I did on all those women? On Joanne?"

The lady prof smiles at me. "You didn't harm any of them. In fact, you
gave them each a bit of pleasure. Hardly improper. And I checked each
of them myself in your wake. You did them no damage."

"And I wanted you to do it to me, Jack," Joanne says, coming over to
me. She crouches next to my chair and smiles, touching my hand. "I
wanted to be yours."

"Yeah? Why?"

Now Joanne's eyes look subdued and she glances over to Melinda.

"Her parents had dormant copies of the mutated gene," Melinda explains.
"The crude attempt to activate them ... failed. You knew them as MC2
and MC3."

I stare at her, and then Joanne. Her eyes are glistening. Holy fuck. I
heard some really bad shit happened to those two before their brains
finally became mush.

"Joanne doesn't have the mutation. But she was desperate to help us, to
do something to help stop it from happening again. She doesn't want to
see what happened to her parents happen to anyone else ever again. So
when she learned about you, she offered herself."

"What, to be my damn sex slave?" I ask incredulously.

Joanne runs her hand up my arm. "Just when you want me to be," she says
softly. "If it will make you stay. If it will make you help them. We
need you that much."

"She did of her own free will," Melinda says. "I went into her mind and
made absolutely sure of that when she offered. And I know you well
enough that I'm confident you'll never hurt her."

I glance back at Joanne for a moment. "And what about all those
inhibitions I took out? Is that 'proper'? Or even ethical?"

Joanne just smiles at me tenderly.

"Jack, last night was the first time Joanne truly enjoyed sex," Melinda
says. "She's had two years of psychiatric counseling to get her over
her inhibitions with no luck. You did her a huge favor."

I don't know what to say at this point. It's all too much to take in.

Melinda rolls her wheelchair away from me and raises her arms. "All
this is a front. Below us, under the mansion, is a large underground
complex. Living quarters, training facilities, and so on. That is where
our organization resides."

"Yeah? How come I can't sense any of them?"

"The stronger of us take turns shielding it from detection. In case any
other organization succeeds in developing their own mind controller.
Like they almost did with you."

She rolls her chair back to me. "Join us, Jack. We have big plans.
Plans to help change the world for the better. Think of it. Influence a
key person here, another one there, and we could end much of the
suffering this world endures."

I frown at her. "I'm not sure I want to go fucking with the world like
that. I might make it worse."

"Do you want to leave it to them? The ones that were one step away from
making you their agent? You were there first success. Even without you,
they'll figure out what they did right and do it again. It's going to
be open war after that. What side do you want to be on when that
comes?"

"Goddamn. You don't make it easy for me, do you, lady?"

The prof just smiles at me knowingly. Joanne rests her head against my
arm.

"Most of all, Jack," Melinda says, giving me a meaningful look. "We
look out for our own. We'll protect you, and you will help protect us.
We all work together. And now you'll have a group of people that
understand exactly what you go through. They've worked through all the
moral and ethical dilemmas. You can't ask for a better support group
than that."

I look over to Joanne and place a hand against her cheek. She moans
softly and shivers with pleasure at my touch. "And fringe benefits," I
say.

Melinda grins. "Yes, and that. You're not the only one of us with a
companion like her."

I sigh. What choice do I really have? Maybe this will work out after
all.

I stroke Joanne's arm. She clutches at me and quivers with renewed
desire.

"Feel free to return to your room for a bit this morning, Jack,"
Melinda says as she rolls away from us. "It will take me a little time
to set things up for you in our facilities. Welcome aboard."

I stand and take Joanne's hand. She whimpers softly with growing lust.

"A guy can get used to this, you know," I tell her.

"I certainly hope so," she moans. "But ... please ... right now ... I
need you ..."

I smile to her and take her upstairs.



END
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