The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The cops took Nina away. We aren’t going to be charged with anything. All we did was show up to join a band. Rachel, or Veronica rather, is being treated by a specialist. They hope she’ll make a full recovery. Ms. Strand, that lovely talent scout that found me, apparently used to work for another bird-themed record label. Her real name is Sally Hernandez. Apparently Nina went far enough to have some facial work done on her.

Sally is in treatment too.

As it turns out the paper trails to prove we were being paid really did mean we all had money sitting in the bank. Good money. I even heard us a couple times on the radio during my first day alone since leaving Midas. I never spent much time alone in Midas, but this is a little different.

I’ve been sitting in my decently furnished living room listening to the radio. Thinking. I think part of it is just the delight in doing what I want to do, and there’s not a lot that I want to do. Every so often I change the station simply because I can. It looses its thrill pretty quick. That doesn’t stop me from doing it, but it does make me wish I could think of anything exciting to do. I don’t know anyone here besides the band, and I was the one helping Nina reinforce their obedience. The police ruled it wasn’t of my own volition, but a part of me worries I might have helped, forced or not.

It’s getting late. Outside it’s getting darker and darker, and my thoughts turn darker right along with the sky. Maybe I should jump out the window. I don’t want to, but it’s something to do, and something Nina never would have let me do.

She never would have let me go out and buy ice cream to drown my sorrows either. Maybe I should just go for a walk. New York isn’t supposed to be that dangerous anymore. I have my mist and the pretty silver streams inside of it if anything happens.

Besides, if something happens I just might like it.

My apartment was full of normal clothes that fit me, but I don’t want to wear them. Mistress—Nina – had several versions of my concert outfit made. They’re here too. I slide into one of those, and even put the silver navel ring back into place. I don’t want the wound to heal, even if it might be a good idea. It’s a pretty piece of jewelry. I don’t want to be weighed down by it. I want to make use of it.

For some reason this outfit makes me wish I had a mask. It would fit. This really is a costume. No normal person would wear this outside. I don’t know why, but I feel compelled. I want to stick out like a sore thumb. I want to look sexy for my own sake. I want to take what Nina forced on me and make it a choice so I can cope with it.

I wish I had a leather jacket, or a trench coat, or something to wear over this. My body rarely gets cold from a little breeze, but it’d be nice to have if only for effect. Oh well. I’ll survive. I’ve lived through worse.

With a sigh I shove my debit card and ID into my top and head out the door. I don’t bother locking up behind me. Nothing in there is really mine anyway. I don’t care if someone steals a few outfits or the stereo. It is a nice stereo, but it isn’t really mine. I might buy another and donate that one to a school or something. Maybe I should donate all of it. I didn’t really earn it.

It would be good press for our CDs. No subliminals were found, and the band and I agreed we should keep selling them till they run out. The publicity means they’re probably selling like dust. Should give us enough money till we find something else to supply an income.

If I ever find the person who coined the phrase “too good to be true” I’m going to break their nose.

Night in New York feels a lot like night in Midas. There are plenty of people still awake, but most of them aren’t people I want to deal with. I bet I could get into a bar or a club if I wanted to, but that really isn’t my scene. Loss of control is the last thing I want right now. I feel something else simmering right under the surface, some craving, some desire, but it’s not something I can name.

All I know for certain is that it isn’t a craving for sex. I’m not about to think about how little I need sex, but I just don’t feel a need for it right now. Even if I had a whip or something it wouldn’t be fulfilling. I’ve had so much sex and so little of anything else.

It’s a little colder here. Maybe it’s being closer to water that makes the air so different. The streets look a lot different, too. It’s an older city than Midas by a longshot. There are so many alleyways between tall buildings. There are so many old buildings with fancy architecture even though they’re just pawnshops or apartments or even restaurants. It feels like someone built the whole place to be important, and then forgot to actually plan half of it.

It’s a nice enough place to call home.

I walk until my legs are sore, only entering a store once to grab a Diet Coke. I can really see why they call this place the city that never sleeps. As it gets later and the sunlight fades, the streetlights get brighter to compensate. There aren’t really any fewer people walking around. Nothing seems to close. It makes me wonder if this isn’t the cultural equivalent of those long days in Alaska.

Sighing, I stop and lean against a lamppost. It’s late. The sky is dark, even if I can’t see any stars. Mom would always say when she moved to Midas and encountered a starless night sky she’d shoot a spark or two up into the sky to try and feel a little less homesick. I wish I could do the same.

“Hey . . . come on . . . Just let me go . . .!” A woman half-falls out of a nearby alleyway, and I feel my head moving so quick my neck stings. She’s dressed nicely, a little too nicely to be out so late, but who am I to judge dressed like this?

Her power suit is a tasteful dark blue, which for some reason makes the lightest flecks of color in her eyes loud even under the artificial light. She’s a blond, the kind of blond whose tied-back hair just makes you want to tear out the tie and look into her eyes. Her bare legs look gorgeous sans a bruise or two where it looks like she fell. Recently. I stand a little straighter, and take a step towards her.

Then I take a step back. What would I do? Mom and Aurora are the superheroes in the family. Even Valerie decided it wasn’t for her after a few missions with Mom. I don’t have to do something just because I have special powers. My luck they’d be immune or something anyway.

Two women step out from the alley after her, dressed a little too nicely to be normal street thugs. They aren’t wearing suits or anything, but they look a little too professional. For one, they’re both dressed the same, identically, in crisp white.

“Let you go? Why would we let you go if we chased after you this far? We don’t get paid to stalk and then shimmy away. We get paid for results. You notice a little too much, you don’t notice much after that. She was pretty clear.” The woman to the left, shorter, reaches into her pocket for something, and I’m so thankful when it’s just a cellphone. She acts like she’s checking a text message, then puts it away. “Yup. Instructions were pretty clear.”

My earlier craving starts to twitch inside of me. It feels familiar, embarrassingly familiar, but I can’t quite figure out what it is. It’s getting harder to just watch. I wish I had a cellphone. I’d call Mom. She can teleport. Maybe I’d just call the cops. They wouldn’t want the police’s attention, right?

The other woman, a little stockier, clicks her tongue and steps a little closer to the poor woman. She looks petrified. “This feels so old-fashioned, but you ran out of the office a little too quick for anything else. Just had to go prying around . . .”

Deep inside of me, between my eyes, and inside of my clenching fists, I can feel just what that desire was. Mother was in my mind, Sarah was in my mind, and now I can feel little remnants of her thoughts tingling inside of me. I wanted to prowl the streets and look for someone to save, to feel like I had some kind of purpose. Now I’ve found a woman that needs my help. I need to help her, I can’t just let them hurt her, or kill her! I take a step towards her, and then another. I wish I’d prepared for this better, but I can’t let that stop me!

The stockier woman turns to me and smirks. “You might wanna turn around and walk the other way, freaklet. Mutant, fashion show reject, whatever the hell you are, you’d really be better off leaving this one to us. Trust me.”

“Oh, I trust you. I’ll just be on my way. I don’t want to cause any trouble.” The words flow out of my mouth, and something about them makes me smile more and more as they slip out. Poor blond in peril – she looks even more scared as I walk behind the two women threatening her. Then, she looks very confused as I stop. This is understandable. “My way over here anyway. And I think not making any trouble kinda includes making you stop. Not part of the solution, you know?”

They look each other in the eye incredulously before starting to laugh. The blond squeaks as the shorter one pulls out a knife. I don’t like knives. I also know I’m not fast enough to disarm her before she might try something. My energy isn’t quick-moving, even if it is fast-acting. So I wait, and take a showy pose, fluffing my hair and arching defiantly.

“Really. You might wanna scoot, kid. You’re hot stuff, but this is really important business, and scrapping a kid so we get rid of a nuisance before anyone actually threatening shows up, well, that’s a priority.” A second knife. Damn it.

Sighing, I move closer and wrap myself around the arm holding the knife, fluttering my lashes. “Oh come on . . . There’s plenty threatening about a nebula. Space is full of unnatural phenomena, and I’m very unusual.” I half-roll the ‘r’ in very, and start to pour my mist out. Purple with streaks of silver, it flows faster than I’m used to feeling it flow. It feels more forceful, happier to be used. Already the woman is arching closer to me, the knife shaking in her hand. Her eyes are twitching faintly. It’s soothing as it sizzles, making twitches of pleasure lead to sighs of relaxing misted bliss.

Through my power I can feel her confusion, and I try not to take too much of a thrill in her aroused confusion at my young body so close to hers. I can feel a little more than I usually would, but it might be a temporary surge of something in her connecting with something in me.

Inside of the sizzling reverie there’s some glimmer of understanding in her eyes. She tries to move her arm, but it just slackens as I force more of my power through her. It’s more than just heat, energy, or mist. The nebula, the combined power of both, it’s different. It’s not just mist with silver sparkles, it’s mine, my power, my gift, and I can taste her half-moment of fright when she realizes even with a knife so close to my flesh there’s nothing she can do unless I want her to do it. I can feel her thoughts. I can feel her.

Need to . . . nnn . . . oh . . . Freaklet is doing . . . something . . . feels hard to move, but good, really, really fucking good. Not good. Not good. Boss will be angry, boss . . . ooooh . . . Boss ain’t here . . . Miss White doesn’t need to know this even ever happened. Can find . . . a way to stop shaking . . . I pour more into her, and smile. She fuckin’ . . . she knows . . . can’t even tell Mikela to stop her . . . Nnnn . . .

“You’re going to go night-night now, all coiled up in a warm nebula . . . but I promise you’ll be okay. Can’t promise what will happen in the long-term, but that’s your fault anyway.” Careful not to give her an opportunity to thrust the knife into me, I lean closer to her and press my lips into the stocky woman’s cheek.

Gonna . . . nnnn fuuuck . . .

Her thoughts flutter out as I pour as much of my power as I can right into the place those thoughts came from. Syllables pour into my mind: nonsense syllables, half words, half thoughts, before all I can feel is her exhaustion. She sinks to her knees.

I step back and sigh, rubbing my hands off against each other. I’m surrounded by an aura-like fog, shimmering and pulsing as it uncoils from the fallen woman. She’s unharmed and the blond looks a little less scared. She looks a little more confused, but confusion is a lot easier to fix up than fear.

The only downside is now the other woman is on guard. I really don’t know what to do about a knife. I just know I need to stop her. I need to save the damsel in distress. Beyond that she’s a cutie, it’s my duty. It’s who I am. It’s who I was born to be. It’s what I was meant to do.

Before I can part my lips to speak she lunges at me over her fallen friend, and I twirl on the balls of my feet to dodge. If I’m ever going to get into a fight with heels again, I’m going to need to learn how to fly. Moving on muscle memory in ways I’ve never moved before I reach out and channel my nebula into the woman’s arm, hard, making her hand clench tightly around the knife, and then pull it back. Her hand trembles and drops the knife. I drop my foot on top of it. Her first thought was that she needed to get it back. That’s a very bad thought for her to have.

To stop her, I twirl behind her, half-dancing to a song only I can hear, and push her over her collapsed friend. As she falls I direct more of my power along her spine, that same tight clenching and all of her body arches hard as she falls. Falling, shit, need to stay standing, need to stop her, need . . . aw fu . . . nnnn . . . uuuhhnnn! I pull my power back, and I can feel her thoughts fade as it pulls back into me.

So much of it still hovers around me, but more like leftover energy. It’s not as active, but I can still feel it there as it sizzles, crackles, and fades into purple wisps and then nothing. Once all of it fades a wave of dizziness pulses in my head.

What did I just do . . .?

I was seeing that woman, the woman coming towards me, about to get attacked. I saved her. My knees feel wobbly, and my skin feels clammy. My head aches. I saved her. She doesn’t look scared now, just worried. “Thank you so much! You just saved my life! Hey . . . are you all right? You don’t look so good . . . Do you want me to call you a doctor? You look a little sick. I hope that didn’t hurt.”

“No . . . Was my duty. Had to help you. Too powerful not to. Was born special, means I have to help . . . You know, you’re really pretty . . .?” I feel the world fall backwards before I stumble to compensate. Dazed. Dizzy. I feel hungry. I haven’t had anything to eat all day. I never eat much, but I usually don’t do things like that.

She rushes forward, and grabs me just as I start to fall. Or catches me. I’m not sure. She’s soft. Really soft. Giggling, I nuzzle very faintly against her. “Thanks . . . That woulda hurt. Sorry, didn’t mean to fall like that. I think I just need to lie down. Would it be okay if I did that right here? Sorry . . . Supposed to be the saver, not the saved . . .” My eyelids feel so heavy. They almost feel the kind of heavy where it hurts to try to keep holding them up, that quivering struggling kind of heavy, so I let them hood a little. That feels better.

“Really, it’s okay . . . You just saved my life. You can do anything you want. But for now I’ll . . . I’ll find a place for you to sit down, and I’ll get you something to eat, okay?” I nod, and smile as she starts to walk. I just walk with her, and sigh. She really is soft. “I can’t thank you enough. My name is . . . Hey, are you there? Come on, don’t pass ou . . . hey . . . at least tell me your name!”

“Mmmmm . . . My name is . . .” It’s not Silver Girl, that’s my mommy’s real name. My real name is . . . “Nebula. You can call me Nebula.”

The world around me is soft and warm. I wasn’t horizontal before so I must have moved, but I don’t really mind. I was about to either trip over my own feet or collapse on top of that poor woman. She was soft and warm, too. It was embarrassing to do that, to practically fall into her chest, but it was pretty obviously not purposeful. She caught me, anyway. That was really sweet of her. It makes me wish she were here to hold.

Those women only had knives. Knives can still kill, but why not something more? Guns can be quiet, but I guess it’s harder to melt a gun down, easier to break a knife? I don’t know which would be easier evidence to dispose of. No, Mom told me about telekinetics she’s worked with who were able to literally take apart a gun and make the bullets all very gracefully fly into their palms.

My eyes are open to the back of a couch, and I let them fall back shut. I’m too comfy to rush waking up. My thoughts are racing, but it’s a lot to take in. I saved a woman’s life. It was a real . . . rush.

If I learned to use my powers like Sarah and Aurora, I think I could be pretty good at that. I already have a uniform. Damn it, I’m calling it a uniform just like Sarah would. It’s a costume. My hair is a bit unique, as are my eyes, but I am tempted to get a mask just for the sake of having one. Sarah told me some superheroes wear masks just so when they don’t wear one people don’t assume they’re on duty.

After last night . . . I don’t think a heroine ever truly gets a day off. I was just having a walk outside to be outside and see the world around me. I didn’t expect to do that. I didn’t expect to feel so compelled either. Having Sarah in my head, I should have known that would have left some kind of echo.

Feeling like that, thinking like that, I can understand why Sarah does what she does. She was born special, and she wanted to be a heroine. She wanted to save lives. She wanted to be the good guy.

I feel so bad for thinking this was something silly. This is as serious as being a doctor or a police officer. The police can’t be everywhere, and some of the people Mother has faced would do horrible things to the police. Some of them actually have. I’m so glad I got to feel this, to understand this.

I understand her and Aurora both so much better now.

“You awake . . .? Please, wake up. You’re looking a lot better but you should still eat some food.” The woman I saved has such a pretty voice. It’s warm and caring with a gentle edge. I’d nuzzle into her voice if I could. I sigh and roll over, slowly fluttering my eyes. The world is still fuzzy, but at least eye-fluttering is a universal sign of waking up. “Oh, thank goodness. I was starting to get scared. When you fainted against me, I called the cops and then brought you home with me. Letting them take you to a hospital didn’t seem a fair way to thank you.”

“Thanks . . . Don’t trust most doctors. Not normal, weird body.” My throat feels sore. Really, all of me feels sore, but not really sore. When Sarah used too much of her power, she always said she’d get really cold and hungry. When Valerie did, she said she felt supremely relaxed. I feel used up, but like I got a nice long massage afterward.

That exhaustion hit me so suddenly. I’ll need to learn to feel that before it hits. Eating more is a good idea too. I might need to get a belt I can fill with energy bars. I’d use it for more than just that, but it is a fun thought.

She’s standing over me with a smile. She took me home with her. I’m still rather dressed under the blanket she put over me, so it’s not hard to believe she feels thankful. A silly part of me wants to play with her hair, but I resist. She’s too tall for me to do that anyway. Instead, I stretch and arch dramatically. Considering that’s the first time I’ve ever saved anyone from anything, I think I did a damn good job.

I look around me slowly, and smile. Now this place looks lived in. It doesn’t exactly look cheap, either. The furniture is all very new, very plush, and very white. The walls are white, but it’s an apartment or a condo, so that’s to be expected. There are paintings on the wall that don’t look like posters in cheap frames. I can’t see a TV anywhere.

She does have a stereo, a large collection of CDs, and a few very full bookshelves. She’s not wearing her business suit anymore. Instead she’s wearing a flowing black dress that clutches to her just enough to show off a little of her body and be a little more than just a dress to wear when you’re alone and wanting to be comfortable. Did she dress up for me? “Thank you, really, for taking me here and not to a hospital. I have my ID on me, but I really don’t want them to call for my medical records anyway. My mother is a doctor, and if she knew I’d done that . . . I mean she’d be proud, but worried and I’d never hear the end of it.”

There’s no need to tell her that my mother isn’t anywhere nearby. No need to tell her I’m from Midas City. It feels strange to talk with someone that knows nothing about my family. It’s nice. She might, but so far she hasn’t hinted at it.

“Really, it was the least I could do. You saved my life. They really would have killed me. If there’s any way I can thank you . . .” A blush rises to her cheeks. It’s the kind of blush that screams, “it wouldn’t be twisting my arm,” and I admit it makes me squirm. “I made you some dinner for when you came to. It’s not much, just some salad. I don’t know really anything that you like, so I tried something fairly neutral. Oh, I can’t believe I forgot to tell you my name. I’m Dianne, Dianne Lee.”

“Salad right now sounds divine.” I stretch a little more before shakily standing up. “Dianne, that’s a really pretty name. I told you my nickname, hero name, whatever you call it, but I guess I never did tell you my real name. Since I kinda stand out in a crowd, and contacts and a wig is too extreme for me to keep up, my name is Sylvia LaSilvas.”

She stares at me, eyes wide. “I thought something about you was familiar. I actually stole a couple of your songs when the first bootleg CDs started circulating. You have a great singing voice. You’re a lot prettier than the pictures.”

This is the first time anyone has ever acted like this towards me and I haven’t blushed. Instead I feel confident. I even feel a little sexy. “Thanks. I thought the hair would give it away, but you were pretty panicked, and I guess that means you weren’t staring at me while I was passed out.”

“No, and you haven’t been passed out long. I was actually pretty close to home. I only had time to throw some veggies in a bowl. Well, and change. I don’t like being dressed for work when I’m at home.” She shifts a little, just enough to make her dress shift cutely. She notices me watching her. Damn, she blushes so cutely. “You want to eat on the couch? I can bring your food over here, or we can eat at the table. Whatever you want, really. I really want to thank you. I can’t say it enough.”

“Here, but only if you’ll sit beside me.” I smile softly and rub the spot beside me. Dianne turns a darker crimson and I smile a little wider. “I don’t like eating alone. Things have been . . . unusual for me lately. Some contact would be nice.”

Dianne smiles brightly and nods as she bounces out of the room. She has a cute ass. I really shouldn’t be thinking like this. I’m still recovering. The only reason I don’t feel like crap right now is because I’m probably still riding a little bit of Mother’s empathic shadow. Honestly, I don’t care. I feel so good. I feel so me. There’s no compulsion to seek out justice, though I do want to keep Dianne safe. She makes me squirm with how thankful she is. She makes me want to sing a song just for her.

When she comes back she hands me a bowl full of lettuce and other yummy vegetables. I pick up the fork and take a bite, mewling instantly. It’s nothing comparable with ambrosia, but it does taste really good and I really am starving. It is very simple, but I can’t stop eating it. It’s not that I feel compelled, it’s more that it’s yummy.

She watches me eat as she nibbles at her own food. She doesn’t stare, she’s more . . . admiring. It’s a nice feeling. She’s really enjoying being near me, and for something I did. Sure I was a little pushed into it, but I wouldn’t have let them kill her. Sarah just helped me realize that quickly enough. I squirm the faintest bit closer to her, and pause my eating to savor the resurgence of her blush.

“Thanks a lot. This is really delicious. I really should have had some food. I was just walking around feeling sorry for myself. I don’t feel so sorry anymore.” I’m being a little bit more flirtatious than I should, but she’s eating it up, so why not? I’m young. I deserve to be able to act like this. It’s not like I’m jailbait.

“What happened? Should I know? I can be a little bit unaware of current events. I don’t get out much.” She has a lovely pale complexion that corroborates. Corroborates. Damn it, I’m starting to sound like Aurora. “Are you okay?”

I use food to make it so I can’t talk and softly nod. After a lot more swallowing I think I can answer a little better. “I’m okay. I don’t know how public it is, since all I’ve done since is listen to the radio. My record label had a very young, enterprising CEO with a taste for mind control. She had me and my band at her beck and call, singing her songs, going where she wanted us to go, and doing whatever she wanted us to do. Yesterday I was saved from it, and she was busted. No one knows what’s going to happen to the company. My chance at a career in singing is probably over.”

“With a voice like yours? Hell no. Temporary setback. They’ll get a new CEO, and beg for you to work for them to make up for the horrible PR. If the rest of the band won’t come back, your next CD will be under the name Sylvia instead of Symphonic Nebula. You have the kind of lungs to make it anywhere.” Dianne sounds so confident. Her blush is still there, but she’s not smiling like she’s blushing. She’s smiling like she knows she’s right. “Trust me. The suit isn’t for show.”

I shove more food in my mouth to busy it with things other than kissing her. It also makes my hands busy with activities that aren’t tearing off her clothes. She’s making me feel so good about myself – hell, she’s making me feel so good period. I want to thank her for that.

Soon the bowl is empty, and I set it down on her coffee table. One of my hands is on her thigh. It’s comfortable so I leave it there. She shifts closer, so I let my fingertips idly caress faintly through the fabric of her dress. Her thigh is so warm, warmer the higher I let myself tease. I know she wants me. I saved her life. I could say she owed it to me, but I wouldn’t want her to think it was an act that requires payment. But, if she wants me to, why do I feel so hesitant?

Dianne finishes her own food, and sets the bowl down beside mine. Her hand rests over mine, and gently squeezes. “If that doesn’t happen, I know people that know people. I’m not in the music industry, but business is business. This is not one of the anything for the woman who saved my life options. That’s anything for a woman with such a pretty voice.”

“I don’t know if you should keep saying things like that to me. I’m in a vulnerable spot right now. That’s not as much dangerous for me, as for you.” My fingers wrap around her thigh and sweetly squeeze. “I should try to find my way home. I don’t even know where I am, but I’m sure I can manage it. We both might end up doing something we’ll really regret later. You’re gorgeous, sweet . . . I just don’t know. This is my first night as a super heroine.”

“Well . . . then let me teach you a lesson?” She leans closer to me. Dianne has hazel eyes, gorgeous hazel eyes, and I let my gaze wander inside of them. “When you save a woman’s life, and she offers herself to you, it doesn’t mean she feels obligated. She’s not expecting you to promise to always be there. She just wants to make you feel good.”

Dianne’s other hand pulls away the blanket and rests on my bare thigh. I tremble closer as my legs part. Her hands are so smooth. “Mmm . . . I might get attached though . . . I’m recovering from moving away from everything I know, my family, lost my first girlfriend ever . . . and I can make you want me. I can use a little of my power and a few well-whispered words to make you crave me for the rest of your life. I could be very, very dangerous.”

Maybe I would be more convincing if my voice wasn’t coming out so breathy. I don’t mean to spread my legs wider. Her fingers are stroking in just the right way along the inside of my leg, just above my knee, making it feel like she’s forcing my legs apart with a secret switch. I can’t say I mind. She guides my own hand higher up her thigh and presses it against an inner curve.

She’s definitely the one in control here, but at the same time she’s not forcing anything. She’s touching me to show me what she wants to do. She’s trying to tell me to do what I want to do. If I said no, this would stop. I almost want to say it just to assert my authority, but I resist.

Her hand slides tentatively higher, fingertips stopping just before my panties start. “So you’re threatening me with needing a woman with a voice that makes me quiver, a body that makes me mewl, and a dash of heroism that excited and protected me? If that happens, it happens. I’ll just have to hope you never get caught. Then my life would be dull.” Her finger traces the edge of my panties. Her nail teases at slipping under, tearing a groan out of my throat. “If you want me to stop, tell me. If you want more, just relax, or take me. I’m yours for tonight. In any, and every, way you want me.”

I look into her gorgeous warm eyes, and look for any sign of coercion. I try to find any bit of reluctance. I try to see something that looks too much like Aurora. I can’t find any of it, so I melt back into the couch. “Don’t you dare stop, but don’t you dare think that means I’m going to go easy on you.”

“I’d be disappointed. For a super power that stopped a couple of knives, it looked like it felt pretty good.” Her finger finally dives under my panties before tugging them to the side. I’m already so wet, and being exposed, even with the skirt still covering me, sends a cool shudder down my spine. “Not that I’m telling you that you have to. I’m just saying you have permission, and I want it. I want everything you have to give.”

“Ooooh keep touching me and I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself!” Her elegant finger strokes along my slit, making my eyes pull back into my head. Lips press to my neck, wet full lips, suckling and kissing a path first down my neck and then back up to my ear. Her finger slides inside of me slowly, trembling enough to feel as it moves. I’m in heaven.

Her teeth press against my ear, nibbling down and then back up to the tip just like with my neck. It feels special, almost as special as her hot breath on my ear and her hot fingers sliding inside of my pussy. “Your moans are like music. I couldn’t stop if I wanted to.” Her hand on mine slides away to pull up my top, freeing my breasts from confinement. Instead of her lips kissing back down, or her hand grasping a nipple, her hand just strokes over the recently revealed skin. Each fingertip half-kneads as it caresses, feeling me, learning my body, and I buck my hips faster as her fingers move quicker.

I didn’t even realize I was moaning, but now I do. I’m just so focused on the way she’s touching me. Each time she pulls her fingers back a little to push them deeper I tremble with anticipation. She’s not fucking me to control me or because she’s controlled. She’s fucking me because she wants to make me feel good. I feel like a goddess.

She hasn’t been touching me nearly long enough for my thighs to shake this hard, but they are. She looks into my eyes, her face so close to mine, and rubs her forehead against mine. I wish I could stop moaning long enough to catch her lips with mine, but I can’t manage to make them stay together long enough. Dianne brushes her lips against mine, and that small gesture, as if she knows what I want, what I need, is enough to send me over the edge. My thighs close around her hand, and I scream her name so loud my ears ring.

My thighs feel so slick as I buck and grind against her in the throes of pleasure, in the loss of self inside of the orgasm that feels like it redefines the experience. I’ve done so much, with Nina, Nikki, the rest of the band, and Aurora, but none of it ever felt like this.

“Unless you mind terribly, I think I’ll have a taste.” Her lips kiss my lips as soon as I can stop panting hard enough to kiss her back. They trace down the center of my chest right between my breasts. She slides off of the couch and leans over me before they press just above the piercing, and then right below. She pushes up my skirt, bunching it around my waist, and kisses down my thighs before kissing back up. Her tongue sneaks out on every other kiss, and it feels like she’s coaxing out more of the afterglow.

I would respond, but I think Dianne knows I can’t. Her blond hair is still tied up, and I surrender to the desire and pull the elastic band free from her hair. It falls like yellow silk, shining so beautifully. My fingers slide through her hair, feeling her hair, her scalp, her trembling as her tongue teases higher and higher.

Her tongue is so warm and wet, drawing out more of my moans as she slides is along my slit. I can’t resist the temptation anymore. I slide my power in through her scalp, just enough to feel, and buck against her tongue. Her thoughts filter into mine . . . She’s so . . . Mmmmm she’s doing it to me . . . she’s fuzzing my mind . . . but I can still think . . . goodness she’s so hot. I hope this won’t be just for tonight. I hope she wants me. I want her so bad.

I can feel her arousal as much as I can feel my own. I can taste myself on her lips if I focus hard enough, but it’s hard to focus that much with toes that want to curl on their own. I force more of my power through her and her lips vibrate against me as she groans and opens her mind wider. God she’s doing it more! Nnnno wonder they couldn’t stay standing . . . I wouldn’t be able to stand either . . . already on my knees for her . . . Tastes so good . . . Hope she stays the night . . . I force my nebula to grow around her, to curl around every curve of her body, to tease along her thighs, and I can feel the volume of her mind dim. She’s like a drug, or a goddess . . . my goddesss of lust and song . . . need . .. want . . . oh god how can she curl it around my clit like-oh!

Tasting thoughts like this is so fucking hot. I can feel her sincerity. I don’t have to feel any doubt at all Using my powers so much on the band, using them without thinking on those thugs, I feel so much more opened up for it. I can feel when her hips buck, when her thighs clench and when she moans because a stream of my celestial kiss teases across a nipple just right.

Looking down at her as she suckles and laps, my eyes crossing and fuzzing, she’s trapped in a cloud of my power that sparkles and swirls against her. She can still think, even if not very well, but she’s so focused on me. I force the shimmering, soothing flow into her breasts, making it fire off all of the right nerves, into her pussy to fill her with pleasure, and along her back to shudder and claw from just below her neck to right above her ass with pure pleasure. Nothing has ever felt this hot, and my thighs are already shaking again.

Makes it . . . oooh so hard to . . . hard to think . . . mmmmmm tastes like silver and lavender and sex and her voice . . . she’s fucking me without even needing to move . . . I’m trapped in it and . . . oooh . . . Syyylvia . . . I’m yours if you want me . . .! She doesn’t even know I can hear her and still she says just the right things. I grasp her hair tight, and arch hard as she trembles and suckles harder with vibrating lips.

“Dianne . . . Dianne I do want you . . . Oh Dianne you’re so hot, think such hot thoughts . . . Dianne, cum with me!” I try as hard as I can to force my nebula to sizzle with those extra silver sparkles, and all of her skin glistens silver as she screams along with me, and we reach our peak together.

I almost cum again just from the flat-lining of every thought besides my name.

She falls onto her back when I start to let my nebula disperse, and I let myself slide off of the couch. My fingers slide over her dress. I grind my body against hers, savoring the friction. My whole body is still trembling when I kiss her ear and whisper inside. “You’re going to let me stay the night . . . and if you don’t, I’m going to fuck your mind until you let me . . . but I think I’ve already done that, haven’t I?”

“Yessss . . . oh yes Sylvia . . . So hard to think . . . Nnnn . . . Don’t want to think about anything but you . . . Sylvia . . .” Dianne’s arms curl around me and hold me against her so tight but not tight enough to seem anything but craving. She wants me. She really wants me. I did enhance it a little, but it’d be simple enough to fix, not that she wants me to.

I groan and let my legs rub against hers, and my hand fall onto her breast before I close my eyes. We’re on the floor. We could be in her bed. For some reason this seems sexier.

“Close your eyes . . . sleep . . . You can make me waffles or something in the morning . . .” Immediately her body goes limp against me, and I grind closer before I let my own body go just as limp. Dianne really is such a pretty name, and a pretty woman. I think I’m going to like New York after all.

Be sure to keep checking out the blot. Look out next week for Electrum Volume 8. It’s going to be in a different style, and the blot will discuss how, and why. Thanks for reading, and I hope you check back in when Nebula resumes in two weeks for Volume VIII. You won’t want to miss it.