The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Aureus is unusually quiet underneath me as we patrol the city alone. Counter Spell and Mina are out seeing a play. It wasn’t one of our nights off, but Counter Spell really wanted to go and Mina said she’d feel better with the company. The reason I took on Counter as my partner was to put her on the straight and narrow while showing her the ropes. That doesn’t mean forcing her to stick to a rigid schedule until she snaps and unleashes a thousand years of darkness or something like that.

Besides, a little quiet time never hurt me. Sylvia is finally going to be back in the states next week, and I’m really looking forward to that. We’ll be able to talk without worrying about waking the other up in the middle of the night. We’ve talked a little, but it’s been awhile.

I miss her.

Even with Dust on the lookout I’ve had no more leads. Wherever Mom is, I’m no closer to finding her. None of her rogues gallery has been causing any more or less trouble. The city has had it’s troubles but nothing that wasn’t transitory.

Valerie says she’s holding out hope. Maybe she is. It’s hard to tell if she’s trying to encourage me or stop me from feeling like I’ve lost two parents. We talk more than we did when I was in California, a lot more, but I’ve been busy trying to keep myself busy. Lots of patrols. Lots of detective work. Everyone, from scientists to magicians, says she’s just ‘gone’.

Sylvia believes I’m right. That means a lot. Sarah is out there somewhere, and I’m going to find her.

Midas City, my city, surrounds me with a feeling of hope. When I left for California I felt like this city was my mother’s and that I had no place in it. I thought that I needed to run far away and find my place just like she did. Instead, I’m finding I feel more at home here than ever. Olivia only ever left the bay because of Monique. Maybe I’m more like her than I’ve let myself hope.

Back when Mom was telling me about how it felt to be the protector of a city I didn’t really understand it. I wanted to be heroic. I wanted to save the world. I wanted to make mommy proud. Now I think I understand. You don’t decide when you’ve found your place. It chooses you.

Every turn, I know what I’ll find. I know the usual suspects. I know where they’ll try to run, which alleyways are too narrow for a car but easy as pie for Aureus to blaze down. I know the gangs. I know the architecture. I know the people that make this city great. Their hopes, their dreams, their fears . . . that’s why I’m here.

Solo patrols aren’t really smart. A lucky shot and no one knows your missing. All the same, I’m out tonight because of the weather. It’s a hot night. It’s the sort of night where someone right on the edge just needing a reason to jump over is going to cause some trouble. I’m not going to let it happen on my watch. Counter Spell can keep Mina safe. That lets me relax. I’m actually driving slower than I ever drive with her here. Whether its because I don’t need to prove myself or I don’t feel its as essential to find a reason for her to be there I’m not sure.

It makes me wonder how fast Sylvia drives her namesake. Did she bring it with her? I didn’t ask. I wish we’d done more talking before she had to go. I wish we’d done more fucking too, so . . .

Crash.

Glass rains down onto the street just far enough ahead to give me time to see it fall in front of me, and beside me. I’m in a better neighborhood, surrounded by buildings of steel and glass with people and businesses inside worth more than any of the money I could ever make in my life. Rebecca would probably feel right at home. The window is at least twenty stories up. Damn it.

I let Aureus take a nap, giving her gas tank a soft pat. A promise I’ll be back. Counter Spell finally put some magic on her. I just need to call out her name, and I’ll be able to feel how far she is, and in what direction. Makes it easier to just leave her behind when I know even if some thug takes her off my hands I’ll have her back within the hour.

Metal wraps around my body as I kick off of the sidewalk and ascend up towards that window. Flying is probably the most useful super power. By itself it’s not much more useful than being able to guess how many gumballs are in a jar, but without it I don’t think my metal or my sparks would be quite as useful. I’ve been trying to fly more, to get used to it as much as I can. Using it too much makes me cold as sparking too much, but I need the practice.

The window isn’t neatly broken. Jagged edges of glass cling to the edges of the pane. Each shard is bent towards the street. It was broken from the inside. With nothing coming out of the pane besides glass it doesn’t add up. Who breaks a window from the inside in the middle of the night?

I glance deeper inside. Nothing special. It looks like a small throw away condo. Nothing looks personal about it at all. There are picture frames, but they’re all full of the placeholders. The magazines on the coffee table show no particular interest. There are no knickknacks. Nobody lives here, and I doubt there’s anything of value here besides the large TV in the corner. It’s not even hooked in to cable.

Fake.

I carefully glide in, trying to make the settling of my boots on the carpet as quiet as possible.

Smoke billows out from the shadows, a dim orange ember glowing for just a moment. Metal, cigarette smoke is about as dangerous to me as dust. I recognize the brand. When the ember glows again, I can see the black dress, the trench coat, and the sunglasses I expected to see.

“What the hell are you doing in my city?” I don’t restrain myself. Tunnel Vision is part of Monique’s corps of misfit supers. I made it perfectly clear after Prism visited that they weren’t welcome here with their shady ethics.

Already I wish I’d gone to see that stupid play too.

“Two reasons.” Tunnel gasps as my metal melts away, and a silver light glows right between her eyes. The light makes her sunglasses practically opaque, but the trembling of her lips, and the tightening of her shoulders lets me know she takes the motion exactly as I’d intended it. “Hey, hey! We’re old teammates, remember? Hope, Flower Chylde, Psiona, Electrum, and Tunnel Vision.”

“You lost the right to call me a teammate when you sold us out to Lys. Don’t think I believe your redemption for a minute. You’re an opportunist. Talk. Quickly.” I flick my finger, and let a second spark hover right at the glowing end of her cigarette. “I don’t really have a lot of patience for backstabbers.”

She doesn’t move a muscle. Being the kind of heroine who dresses all in white and generally tries to be a little silly I don’t get a lot of moments like this. Fear is a usual reaction to being caught. Terror that you’re about to be fried into a lump of silvery nothing? That’s different. I don’t like being so rough, but I can’t let my guard down. If she even inches her glasses down a little she’ll be mewling out my name faster than Rebecca would.

Hmm. Unresolved issues there.

When she finally moves, it’s the faintest nod I’ve ever seen. Smoke rises elegantly from the end of her cigarette, gray and fragrant, but she doesn’t move to take another drag. “First, Monique sent me. She wanted to apologize for Prism’s actions. She wanted it clear . . . that we’re here to work with people like you. We’re here to help the good guys, not give them a hard time. Kelly got reprimanded hard. She’s on leave till she can get her shit together. Good riddance if she can’t. Our organization doesn’t care much for hotheads. Of course, when one of your bosses is Mourning Frost, that kinda makes sense.”

She smirks, but its still a nervous smirk.

I pull the sparks back, just an inch, and let them burst into bright silvery light. She gasps, taking another long slow drag. The way the smoke rolls past her lips, like airy silk, is almost enough to make me shudder. She looks entirely too good wrapped up in that little dress under that oversized jacket.

Bad girls are not something I need an appetite for. Romances with bad girls never work out. Besides, I have Sylvia.

“Cool. Tell her I said thanks. Still, you said two things . . . and breaking windows? She has my number. She has my address. This place is too obviously not a home. It’s out of a magazine.” I frown, and grab up the remote. The TV isn’t even plugged in, and pressing the power button doesn’t even light up the remote. “Kind of a crappy safe house if it’s so blatantly not lived in.”

“Not one of the organization’s. Theirs are more . . . discreet. Underground. Less prestigious. Besides, why have finances pointing back to you when dollar bills and a hotel just link back to an agent? I’m not staying here. This is part of that second bit.” Tunnel rolls her eyes, and sucks at that cigarette like she thinks it might be the last one she ever has. “Plus, she wouldn’t appreciate me breaking the window if it was theirs. They like to keep expenses low. They pay well enough . . . but not that well. I woulda made more off of your shiny ass.”

I frown, and pop a spark out of my fingertip. Keeping it there I point between her eyes and scowl deeper. “Not very endearing. You don’t have a lot of time to tell me the other reason. Though, you can also tell Monique that I said thanks for letting me see you working as her little bitch.”

Tunnel winces. Perfect. It didn’t occur to me at first, but that was definitely the purpose. Kelly was a friend who stabbed me right in the face while working for Monique. Tunnel is the best way to apologize.

“I was in town to pass some messages to some other agents on the way through. Standard. But right when I finished paying for my hotel room, and was making my way into the room . . . the phone rang. Voice on the other side offered me a lot of money just to deliver Aurora LaSilvas a very important message.” Tunnel sighs, and taps her cigarette until a long stretch of ash collapses down onto the carpet. “The method of delivery was very . . . specific.”

“So you’re a messenger girl now. Didn’t see you lowering yourself so quickly to make a buck.”

She grins. “For this amount of money? All I had to do was break a window. She owns the building, by the way. It’s perfectly legal. Made sure the glass wouldn’t fall on anyone. You know it’s not my style to be such a sore thumb. She was just very—”

“—Specific. You told me. So what was this message? Who was it?”

“You aren’t going to believe me, but you know me. I never lied to you, ’Rora. I hid things from you, and I betrayed the whole team, but I never looked you right in the eyes and lied to you. That was more ’Becca’s thing than mine.” She doesn’t lower her glasses. Sometimes I wonder if she thinks of them as part of her face more than a mask. She’s also right. I let my body relax, and sigh.

Something tells me that whatever this message was, I really don’t want to know.

I really didn’t want to know.

White knuckle tight is a good description for my grip on Aureus, but when your knuckles can be a silvery-gold without it being a stretch that expression just feels strange.

All Tunnel had for me was an address, and a brief little message. I wanted to doubt her.

For all of her flaws, Tunnel isn’t a liar. Trusting her might be stupid calling her a friend would be worse, but she wouldn’t lie to me like that. It would be pointless. Everything she said made too much sense.

Midas rushes around me as I speed through her reckless as ever. There are a lot of people that it would be weird to get a message from. A message from Mind Bore would be very weird because she bled out in Mom’s old apartment. This isn’t quite that spooky, but it’s pretty close. Some people aren’t dead but they’re supposed to be good as dead. You put them out of your mind and only think of them in a very, very distant way.

This day just keeps getting better.

I park in front of another tall, tall building. It isn’t a hundred stories tall, but it feels like it should be. Stone instead of steel, but just as plated with glass. I shouldn’t be going in alone. It’s another condo building, in the better part of town, but I shouldn’t be going in without at least telling someone where I am. Yet . . . here I am.

I’m not that smart sometimes. I’m brash, impulsive, and immature. I don’t always think of the consequences. When Sarah used to tell stories about her earlier adventures she always mentioned hesitation.

She always hesitated, and it landed her in a lot of trouble.

I can’t do that. I have to dive in, even if it’s stupid. This might be a lead. It might be a red herring. No matter what it is, I have to go right for the deep end. Either I learn to swim or I drown.

The door woman smiles as I walk past her. She doesn’t try to make conversation. Either I’m that expected, or she doesn’t want any trouble with Silver Girl. Either way, bonus points for me. I dodge the elevator. The top floor penthouse is my destination. I’m going to take the stairs. I don’t need the workout, but I don’t trust the elevator. Maybe that’s paranoia speaking but I have my reasons, and very good ones. If this is a trap taking every little side step I can oughta help even out the odds.

I hope, anyway.

Entirely too quickly I’m at the top of the stairs. There’s no one waiting for me outside of the door. Why would there be? Why would I even be here? If I was smart I’d have just gone back home to wait for Mina and Counter.

Contrary to knowing all that, I ring the bell.

The door opens. No ones there. Rebecca joked once that she’d install doors she could open remotely if I didn’t calm down about her giving me a key. She actually showed me the diagrams of how they’d work. It’s still unsettling. Then again, most things that make me think of Rebecca are unsettling.

As soon as I’m inside, the door closes behind me. Expensive is the first word that comes to mind. Framed art on the walls, a Persian Rug at the door, and any other number of little touches – not to mention the plush over the top furniture – scream wealth. It matches up to what I was expecting without missing a single little detail. The lights are on, but no one is in the room. The closest thing is a silhouette “You came as soon as she delivered the message.” It’s not a question. I wish it were.

“Like I could just sit around aft—”

“Just like your mother when I met her.” Her voice is powerful, smooth, and confident. The silhouette steps closer, and I freeze. I’ve seen her picture before. She’s aged since those pictures, and incredibly well too. The only startling difference is the black eye patch resting over her right eye. “I almost expected you sooner.”

I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman with an eye patch. She doesn’t make it look like a pirate costume at all. She makes it look dignified and elegant. Black, just as black as her dark hair, the strap disappears seamlessly amongst her dark locks. I’m in the same room with Jesse Colloten, The Lady, and all I can do is stare at her eye patch and find it amazingly stylish. There’s something wrong with this.

It’s not the kind of something wrong that screams she has something special in that eye patch. Just to make sure I look away, shake my head, and look back. Nothing feels any different. She’s the woman who almost took me away from my mother. She’s the reason Sylvia’s mother became The Domina.

Her quest to save this Jesse from the same fate did lead to Sylvia. I still don’t feel like thanking her.

“I was hoping this was a cruel prank, and that you’d end up being . . . someone else. But you’re you. Her. The Lady.” Shouldn’t she still be in jail? It hasn’t even been twenty years since that happened.

Some questions you don’t need to ask.

Jesse Colloten slowly moves over to her full, lush couch, sitting on the far side before gesturing to the other. She’s wearing a form fitted black blouse that reminds me of the one I was shot in, and a short black skirt. I can see why she liked to use her legs as a distraction. Curvy, long, gorgeous, they’re legs that make me wish I was going home to Sylvia later.

“Sorry, but I’m not really in the mood to sit. Your message was pretty simple. Jesse Colloten wants to talk, and an address. Not to mention the fact that you had it come from . . . well . . .” Tunnel Vision is an old teammate. Her reasons for being in town did have to do with me, but that doesn’t mean that Jesse knows anything about Tunnel’s involvement with Mourning Frost and the rest of their little organization.

If I can avoid getting on her bad side that sounds the better option. Blowing their cover sounds the way to do that. This is Jesse Colloten. Believing that she’s on the level . . . Chronos, the Midas City Badged Supers . . .

She doesn’t look surprised. Her lips curve into a smirk, but it isn’t a cruel one. Jesse looks more amused than cruel. Getting me all riled up, bringing me here, did she imagine I’d be agreeable? If she has my mother, then I’ll be leaving here with both of them. One of them won’t be thinking again. She’ll wish she ended up like the Jesse from The Domina’s timeline.

The silence is intimidating. I melt away my metal and let a few small sparks slide from my fingertips. Things feel a lot more even now.

“From Tunnel Vision. It seemed the best source. Plus it made me feel nostalgic. Seeing the gray in your eyes does more of the same. I never imagined that Silver’s daughter would be a duster.” Jesse is very observant. Maybe she’s not as knowledgeable as I was afraid (all I need is another Doctor Lys who knows all there is to know about me) but she’s still quick witted enough to give me a little pause.

I shake my head. “I’m not a duster.”

“Of course not. You’ve just been attending special events with the source herself, haven’t you?” Maybe she does know things I wish she didn’t. Her smirk grows faintly as she recrosses her legs, and I try not to be particularly interested. It’s hard not to be. “I have my sources. You’re here, because I want to offer my help.”

“Everyone’s been doing that lately. Pretty much what Dust said too.” There’s no point in objecting to anything else she’s said. It’s true. Going to a rave with Dust is a blast. It’s only been twice, but both times have been enough to get my roommates off my back about never leaving the apartmentt for a little R&R. “With her, I could buy it. Sarah helped Dust out in the past. She’d never kept her as a pet or anything silly like that. You, on the other hand . . .”

Jesse nods. The Lady nods. How do you think about a woman like that, anyway? Does she deserve her special title, or is it more a matter of not giving her a real name? I’m not sure which is better. I just know I feel pretty confused.

This woman made my mother melt into a puddle at her feet. She made those gorgeous legs of hers wrapped round my mother’s mind. Now she’s acting practically chummy. If she could help Sarah I have to at least hear her out. It would be selfish to blow her off just because I felt a little confused around the edges.

“I guess I’m just the big bad wolf, hmm?” The Lady smirks, and I realize I’m staring at her eye patch entirely too much. How do you look away from something like that? I don’t know. “Makes sense. You don’t really have any reason to trust me. But . . .” Her voice trails off like a velvet cloth being pulled slowly away from my ears. The very edge makes me shudder and clench my whole self tight. I can see how she pulled off being The Lady. Pulls it off, from how she’s acting with me.

“But?”

“But you’re here. You could have just told Tunnel Vision where she could put that cigarette. You could have sent a message. But no. You came.” She shrugs, and crosses her legs in the slowest most distracting way. “Should I still be locked away? Maybe. But I’m not. They let me out. One more slip up and I probably won’t get out again. Maybe I bribed my way out. Maybe I . . . talked . . . my way out. Regardless, here I am. And there you are. Which means you’re just as desperate to see her again as I am.”

Words won’t escape my lips. She’s the woman who almost took my mommy away from me. She’s the woman who turned my mother into a slave.

Considering my fists are still metal, she has a lot of nerve.

Her eyebrow quirks, and she adjusts her eyepatch just enough to scream she’s noticed my gaze. “Don’t give me that look. Your mother is the one woman who could bring me down. She struggled free enough to send Jade after Chronos, and then she made sure that window gave me an eye patch instead of a coffin. Then, trading favors for information, I come to learn that the whole Argentum Project was one big plan of hers to find me. Another her, but still my silver.“

Her legs stretch, those long alluring legs, before she stands and moves out of view. I stay where I am and watch. For a woman that my mother told me so many stories about I don’t think I ever heard one where she sounded human as she is right now. Jesse’s voice is full of longing, of love, of . . . genuine emotion. Maybe not love. Maybe it’s more full of possessive longing instead of love, but there’s honesty in her words. She misses my mother as much as I do. She’s even kept tabs on me. She didn’t need to see my eyes to know about the gray flecks.

When Jesse steps back into the room she has two glasses in her hands. Wineglasses. “You’ve lost a mother. What I’ve lost is different, but no less real. I tried to smash your mother’s will to bits. I tried to make her my toy. I glued her mind together piece at a time after that woman snapped her apart. And still she broke free.” She offers me a glass, and though I don’t drink from it I accept it all the same. She sips, and looks into its depths sorrowfully. “I blotted out her mind with chemicals. I almost had all of my old recruiters back again . . . and then . . . spark! She’s in my office, acting defiant as the first time I reminded her of her trigger.”

I don’t think anyone could find it in themselves to interrupt her. Her voice is like liquid silk. Every syllable is carefully chosen, yet so effortlessly used. Her cadence makes such simple words flow together in a way that feels almost magical.

Maybe its how much of a sweet talker it is, or maybe it’s that I just feel really alone . . . but either way I take a drink, and finally melt down into her sofa. I don’t really drink much. Most of it tastes too bitter. This is sweet. It almost tastes like candy. I’ll need to be careful.

Her single bared eye shimmers as she sits on the opposite side of the couch, that beautiful voice of hers paused only long enough for its return to feel more noticeable. “Then, after she defeats me, she saves me. She won’t even let me die after almost taking her family away – the family I didn’t even know she had. I knew she had Olivia, but who would even think they’d have a daughter? I would have done things differently. Probably. That’s what I tell myself.”

“And now she’s gone. Probably dead. That’s pretty much what everyone thinks. It feels like she only went missing yesterday and everyone is so convinced . . .” I gulp down more of whatever entirely too sweet drink she brought. All I know is that it’s green. “But you don’t seem particularly convinced.”

“No. I’m not.” Jesse smirks. It’s the kind of smirk a woman gives to a red light before speeding across a busy intersection. “Because nothing could stop her. A giant space station, witches, so many other people tried. I tried. She’s disappeared for so long before, and come back just fine. This is Silver Girl we’re talking about. Mind Bore had her for how long, and she came back without a scratch. I had her for longer. I know all about Quillspawn, all about the Domina Argenti. Your mother doesn’t go down without a trace. She’ll outlive us all, and not even look a day over twenty five doing it.”

Either I’ve finished more than the one empty glass in my hand, or she sounds just as passionate about my mother’s survival as I am.

With a shrug I set down the empty glass and let a spark dance out over my fingertips. Jesse’s eye widens, and then faintly hoods. “Yeah . . . but there’s no trace. Nothing magic, nothing tech . . . One day she was here, one day she’s just . . . gone. I can appreciate how you feel, but . . . well . . . that doesn’t do me a lot of good. Or her.”

Before I can pull the spark away from her, she leans forward and wraps her hand around it. She shudders as the silver runs through her, making her eyes flutter and a slow moan drip out. I clench a little tighter and try not to gaze to her cleavage made so much more obvious, or her eyepatch made so much closer. She might be old enough to have used my mother as a sex slave before I was even born but that doesn’t mean she isn’t still sexy.

Jesse smiles, teasing her fingertips along my hand. Her touch is so tender, and my skin feels so sensitive. I don’t feel as needy as when I met Dust, and the boose shouldn’t be hitting me already, but . . . I am thinking so many things I shouldn’t.

“Aurora . . . are you listening?”

“Buh . . .? Oh! Oh uhm . . .” My cheeks burn, and I look away. “Maybe not. Maybe not . . . but uhm . . . could you say that again?” Her voice . . . I was a million miles away, or just a few inches away buried in her cleavage or in a dream.

She laughs, and her hand falls onto my thigh. When did she get over here from the other side of the couch? Her leg presses warm against mine. I try not to enjoy it too much. Unsuccessfully. “Your sparks, those pretty, lovely little silver lights. They take a lot out of you, don’t they?”

“O-only if I use them too much at once. I’m getting better . . . slowly by slowly. Using yourself as a battery can be a little exhausting.” Battery. Ouch. I don’t tend to zing myself, but that felt cold even to me. Her hand on my thigh is still as warm as you’d expect, especially as it traces warm little circles. “Why . . .? Do you want . . . me to . . . oh wait, is it because I’m dressed up like . . . do you want me to . . . didn’t think you’d be into being sparked . . .”

“Shh . . . and take another sip.” Her glass is against my lips. I shouldn’t swallow the sweet green taste that fills my mouth, but I do. It feels so warm, so good, so . . . sexy. Her fingers tease under my sorts, and I gasp. “That’s a good girl. You think too much. Mmm. Like your mother . . . but no. I want to help you. I don’t know where your mother is. I’ve spent good money tracking down magical explanations, something more mundane . . . I’ve snuck funding to Tunnel Vision’s little group . . . Nothing has lead anyone anywhere. I can’t find her . . . but I can help you.”

The room feels too hot, too warm. Slick. No, I’m slick, I . . . Dizzy. I’m dizzy. I try to get up, and just feel the couch pulling me into it’s plushy warmth. Her fingers are teasing so so close to that slick warm feeling. I feel so . . . runny, like a candle with way too big of a flame.

I know I should say no when she starts to pull my top down past my breasts, but then she squeezes and my vision goes all fuzzy. It’s hard to hear her when I can’t stop mewling and she’s whispering so soft.

“I can make it so you’ll never need to stop sparking. It was a fun little machine that helped your mother . . . and we can use the same fun machine on you. Shouldn’t take nearly as long, either. Sound fun, being trained just like . . .” She licks a fingertip, and rubs it slowly over my silver nipple until I squeal with how stiff and hot it feels. “Just like mommy . . . ”

“Mmmm trained like mommy . . . mmmm . . . you drugged me . . . Mmmust be magic like... Like when Lyss...nnnn . . . your voice . . . you . . . Nnnn stooop . . .” Her finger keeps rubbing my nipple, so I make it spark as hard as I can. Her fingers clamp tight around my flesh, twisting it so hard I scream until my voice cracks. The room spins around me, everything feeling held between her thumb and forefinger as she twists and tugs, twists and tugs twists and . . .

Fingers hook under my shorts, and I can’t fight them being pulled away. The breeze against my pussy makes my whole body shudder. So slick, so runny drippy hot. Mmmm I want her, but she’s doing something bad . . .

Bad . . . and wrong . . .

Her body is pressed so tight against mine, her fingers stroking into that slick heat. My hips buck on their own, and my eyes can’t stay open. “Shhh. Silly girl. Always thinking too much. Mmm. I’m not going to make you a recruiter. I’d be found out so fast . . . and I’m not going to be locked away again. I’m just going to fuck you, make you worship my voice, my name, my body . . . make that battery of yours a little stronger . . . then let you go. But that’s not for a long time. No one is waiting for you back at home. You’re all mine, little ’rora. Say it.”

“All . . . y-oursss? Oooh fuck!” Fingers pinching, rubbing, twisting, doing hot yummy things I can’t remember the words for. What she’s doing should make me scared, make me wanna get away, but she just makes it feel so right. I don’t want anything else. Besides maybe for her to have a nebula . . .

Teeth tug my ear, and I coo. “You moan just like she did. You squirm just like she did. Just younger . . . a little less silver . . . a little more . . . pink. Let go, Aurora. Be aurora for me, instead. Mommy told you all about how I take away a girl’s uppercase, didn’t she? How you can’t resist, just drip away, just moan and let Jesse make you writhe and obey . . . She told you all those things, didn’t she?”

“Yes! Yessss! Mmmade her ssssilver! Herrrr . . . Always l-l-lowercase with you! Mmmmm make me aurora for you! Neeeed it!” Needed it before she reminded me I needed it. Been so in control, been so . . . responsible. I’ve been so independent, so . . . mmm not drippy runny gooey obedient. That’s what I want. What I need.

“Most women can’t hear a capital letter, or a lowercase. We’re very special women, aurora. Don’t ever forget that.” Her fingers feel like they’re in my pussy, over my tits, in my mouth, over my scalp . . . either she’s got a million hands or my brain is going so slow I can’t keep track. Or I’m already so mind fucked I can’t care. “Your mommy made you so perfect for this. I wondered if you’d taste like her. I think you might even taste better. Don’t hold back, little ’rora . . . mmm I think instead of feeling it dawn on you, you should go supernova.”

Supernova . . . how long has she been doing this? How long have I been here? As soon as she says those words my whole body fels like it’s sparking itself, and all I can do is scream as everything gushes and flows and bursts into a wet hot sticky mess with me in the middle.

Silver busting inside of me, over and over again, and all I can do is scream.

No . . . all i can do is scream.

When I wake up, I’m inside of a glass tube. My clothes are gone, and small suction cups are hugging my body in places that feel entirely too fun. I rest my head against the tube, and sigh at how cool it feels.

“The first treatment was a success, I think.” She’s there on the other side of the tube. Her. The Lady. I can still feel her fingers in me, over me, her voice in my head. My thighs feel slick just trying to remember the gap between the orgasms and now. “How many more does it look like she’ll need?”

Giggles chime in from out of my vision. I can’t bring myself to look away from Her. So beautiful. So powerful. So sexy. So in control . . . “Another . . . uhm . . . three? Four? Three! I still think she could use some candy.”

“Maybe later. Maybe she can take some home, and give you a call while she rolls around in bed rubbing her sticky hands everywhere. Would you like that?” She looks away, and I whimper. It stings. It also feels . . . strange. I know She did something to me. A lot to me. But . . . I can still feel, still know, that I wish Sylvie was doing this to me with her. “Nevermind. She’s awake. Isn’t she, aurora?”

She says my name, and I groan as my thighs feel so much slicker. “Yessss . . . Awake . . . Just fuzzy, groggy, confused . . . You’re fucking my mind, but going to let me . . . go . . .?”

“Supernova, aurora. We have more work to do.”

Silver, sizzling, sparkling, exploding silver, and everything is gone all over again.

“You’ll need to come back next week.” My clothes are wrapped around my body again. We’re on the couch . . . and She’s smiling at me so knowingly. “To finish the treatment. You took two just fine. In a week, come back, and you should be able to spark to your heart’s content.”

“Jesse . . . Lady . . . I . . . i . . .”

“Shh, aurora. This isn’t about you. This is about winning. Your mother isn’t here, but I have you. Then, you’ll be on your merry way and you’ll help bring her back from wherever she’s gone. She won’t be mine . . . but I’ll get to see her again . . . and she’ll know I helped. She’ll know I was a par of it. She’ll know that I really did love her too, as much as I can love anything.” She laughs, and teases a finger along the strap of her patch. “An eye for an eye.”

“Would you have . . . made my mother give me away . . .?” The reason mommy broke free of her control was Pink telling her that. Saying she’d lose me, that I’d lose her. And now, here with Her, I have to know.

She grins, and shakes her head. “Of course not. I would have sent her back home, as controlled as ever, and made your whole little family a pet project. And then, when you’d have reached about . . . sixteen . . . maybe eighteen if I had any self control, I’d have formalized the arrangement. But that didn’t happen. Go home, little ’rora. Come back next week.”

I want to say no, to fight with her, but she hoods her eye more, and shakes her head. “Supernova, ’rora.”

Silver bursts through my vision, and I don’t remember ever hearing my scream end.