tagMind ControlAlan Ch. 18

Alan Ch. 18

byjuliancoreto©

Training

Karick and Swindon-Smythe sat in the small office and waited for their boss to arrive. As the newest employees of the Cyaxares corporation they were unsure of what their jobs would entail. Both put their coffee cups down as they heard the outside door of the suite open, and stood when Alan and Mr. Wilkins entered. Alan gestured for them to sit, and they did.

Karick figured his job would be primarily concerned with security; he was, after all, a former intelligence agent. Swindon-Smythe was less sure. The last month had been rough on him, mostly imprisoned in the secure office two doors down from Wilkins's own space. The new office was just a few floors down from his former jail, in the same building in midtown Manhattan, almost all the way east, near the United Nations. Three or four evenings a week, as his end of the semester schedule allowed, Alan had come to question him, and though he did not want to betray any of the secrets of his former employer, Lord Thornbow, all of the confidences came pouring out of him in a torrent of candor; he knew why he was unable to hold back, and it softened the blow.

Karick had approached Alan, at home in Westchester, two days after Christmas. He had watched Mr. and Mrs. Marshall leave the house, all dressed up for a night out, and then knocked on the door. Alan had answered, and they stared at each other for more than a few seconds, and something weird happened inside Karick's mind, something he didn't quite understand even now, two weeks later. All of the details of his operation against the boy came spilling out of him as they sat in the den of the Marshall house. In the end Karick was worried that Alan was going to have him eliminated, but these fears turned out to be groundless; instead an offer of employment was proffered and promptly accepted. Alan gave him two weeks of leave to gather up his wife and daughter, and with the new identities provided by Mr. Wilkins, relocate them out of harm's way; as Karick sat in his new office across a table from his boss and his boss's lawyer the tan he had acquired in Australia, where he got his family settled, was only just starting to fade. He felt fit and alive, a stark change from the past year which had mostly been spend sitting in cars and offices on stake-outs, first watching Jean-Pierre Massimo, and then Alan.

Alan had breezed through his exams and papers; his power allowed inhuman bouts of concentration coupled with the ability to eschew sleep as was his will. He spent a minimum of two hours of each day honing his mental abilities, and slept only every other day for three hours, with short naps after exercising his mind powers. He began with a process he called memory mining, for lack of a better term. Until then he had mostly limited himself to using the powers of Paishiya'uvada to compel people to do his biding; he got information from his subject by compelling them to speak to him truthfully. Now, with barely an effort after hours of tiring practice he could actually dig into people's minds, finding all he needed within them, and without their needing to be questioned. All of his other free hours had been dedicated to plowing through Massimo's notes. He also practiced planting false memories into others, but for some reason found that more difficult.

When Karick had returned from Down Under two evenings earlier Alan had spent a good deal of time inside his head with his new skill; Swindon-Smythe had been "mined" previously, and what he had learned from him, coupled with what had come out in the interrogation sessions had at once chilled him and reassured him. Thornbow, though very knowledgeable about the Seeds of Paishiya'uvada and the Orbis Tertius, possessed far far less than what was contained in Massimo's files.

The meeting went quickly; Karick indeed was put in charge of security, primarily Alan's personal security, and Swindon-Smythe was assigned the task of retrieving the rest of Jean-Pierre's research, scattered as it were across the globe in four locations. Alan left the details to be spelled out by Wilkins, who in addition to his lawyerly duties was now the CEO of Cyaxares LLC, ostensibly an international consulting company dealing in all things concerning archeology; Alan was the president of the company, but the lawyer was going to do most of the work.

The company did in fact have a number of fairly lucrative contracts with various Middle Eastern and Central Asian countries, most prominently with the government of Israel, and had a staff of fifty or so antiquarians and researchers, based out of an office in Rome, though they spent most of their time in the field. The head of operations, a former university professor named Bernard Lawson, had flown in the week before to meet Alan and Wilkins to update them on the current status of the company's projects and contracts. Alan had been impressed with the man's erudition and management skills; Lawson agreed to the contract extension he and Wilkins offered him.

Karick began assembling a team to keep Alan from being kidnapped again, and another to begin surveillance on Thornbow. Alan had insisted, and Karick had agreed (though it made the task more difficult) that Alan's security be as unobtrusive as possible. He wanted guards, he just didn't want to see them. He also agreed to have a miniscule transponder implanted subdermally, so that if he ever was taken again the security would be able to track him electronically, and he had a panic button installed on his cell phone.

By the end of the week Swindon-Smythe was ready to leave. His appearance was altered by Alan. Formerly he was a slight man of average height, dark brown hair and brown eyes. Now he stood six feet even, light blue eyes, light brown hair, and a broad beefy frame. Wilkins arranged for papers in his new name, Harry Medford; his flight to Lisbon left Saturday morning. A town car picked him up from his corporate apartment. Alan expected him back in a month, for after Portugal he was headed to Damascus, then to Singapore, and finally to San Francisco; in each city the arrangements would take a week or longer to deal with; his orders were to contract with bonded couriers to fly from New York and meet him in each city once he had retrieved his bundle, and customs officials had to be bribed. * * *

Kate was looking forward to going back to school. It wasn't that she disliked being home, but the freedom of college living agreed with her. It was somewhat startling that first night home when her parents asked her where she was going as she was preparing to leave after dinner. She was just so used to coming and going as she pleased without informing them; she didn't resent it, and in fact her relationship with her folks had never been better, a combination of the two of them seeing her as an adult now that she was an undergraduate, and Kate's own regimen of self-improvement. She kept up with her volunteer work, and was in general far more nice to people then she was before, less inclined to judge people by their social standing and popularity.

This "new" Kate was working for her, and she had far more friends then she used to have, and the quality of her friendships was much better than in the past. Take Scarlet, example; the "old" Kate would have barely tolerated her as a roommate, to say nothing of a friend. OK, she was a nice enough person to be sure, but she didn't dress as fashionably as girls she used to pick as friends--she wasn't as cool.

But she liked her. A lot. Maybe too much. Especially since Scarlet's revelation that she was bisexual and confining her partners to other women for the duration of her college years.

The dreams were getting to her. Every so often Kate had wildly erotic dreams about being with other women sexually. The first was the night after Scarlet told her that she was a Lesbian Until Graduation. So potent were these dreams that whenever she had them she awoke to drenched bedclothes and sheets. Each time she was jerked out of her slumber by these powerful fantasies she had to masturbate, further wetting herself with vaginal secretions. She had asked Scarlet what she should get her for Christmas, and her roommate had asked her to consider girl-girl sex. They laughed, Kate nervously, Scarlet jokingly, but Kate was indeed considering it. She had, since last March, always used Alan as her jerk off fantasy, but more and more the thoughts of sex between her and Scarlet, or her and other attractive girls she knew, were intruding . Sometimes they even popped into her mind when she was having sex with Alan, especially when he went down on her.

Now, with just three days remaining before the dorms reopened on Monday, she was almost going out of her mind with anxiety. It was becoming harder and harder for to deny the fact that she was attracted to girls, and the conflict brewing within her soul was almost sickening. It was early evening, and she was waiting to hear from Alan. His parents were leaving for a long weekend in Caribbean and she was going to drive over after they left for the airport.

"You're biting your nails again, sis," Pauline called over from the other side of the Van Devanter's living room. "Anything the matter?" her sister asked, putting down the paper.

Kate ceased and desisted from chewing a cuticle, and look over at Pauline. She was dressed up for a date with her new boyfriend, Brian Lacy, waiting for him to pick her up.

"Nah, s'nuthin. I'm OK."

"Good," her sister responded, punctuating this with a warm smile.

"Thanks for asking. So how are things with you and Brian going?"

"Really good. He's such a gentleman, maybe too much of a gentleman."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, you know. He's very nervous around me, around girls in general. He might be a really handsome guy, and a jock n'all, but he could barely work up the nerve to hold my hand at the movie on our first date. I'm loosening him up though," she added with a giggle.

Kate giggled too. "How loose?"

"Well," Pauline laughed, "last week at the movies he managed to put his arm around me, but he did recoil when I put his hand on my boob."

"Maybe he's gay," Kate joked.

"No, I'm pretty sure he's not. After awhile he did put his hand back, plus he's a real good kisser. It's kind of a nice change, you know, being the assertive one, you know after Alan. God, Alan was so commanding. I gave him my virginity before I even knew what was hap--"

"You what!" Kate shrieked bemusedly, knowing that Alan had fucked her.

"Oops! Little too much information there, huh, sis? Oh well, wasn't a secret or anything, just don't tell mom or dad."

"So how was he, Alan, I mean?" Kate asked, her high level of interest shining across her face.

"Unbelievable," Pauline sighed, not knowing that Kate was one person who really could believe it. Pauline was lost on her reverie for a few seconds, broken only by the sound of the doorbell ringing and Conchita letting Brian inside. "If I can't bring Brian along soon I might just give Alan a call. I'm kidding, of course, I'd never do that to Brian, but the thought is very tempting." She exited to the giggling all around.

Kate sat around for most of another hour waiting for Alan to call, reading the latest New Yorker. She was going to give that guy a piece of her mind. The nerve! Stealing the innocence of her underage sister!

* * *

When she pulled into the Marshall's driveway Alan was waiting there, and before she could cut the engine and get out of the car he opened the passenger door and slipped in next to her.

"Where are we going?"

"Video store and take-out. OK?"

"Sure," she said, a small smile on her lips. "What do you want for take-out, pizza or Chinese?" she asked when she stopped at the stop sign before the turn onto Westervelt Road.

"In the mood for some Thai? There's that new little place on State Street that I've been wanting to try."

In response she punched him in the arm.

"What he hell was that for?" he asked, grinning, The blow not being very hard. "OK, OK, no Thai. Pizza?"

"Thai is fine," she mock-snarled. "That was for Pauline. She sorta let it slip before that you took her virginity, and I had to pretend I didn't know."

"Oh. That. It was last spring. Does it bother you? I didn't hurt her."

Kate paused before answering, biting her lip. "No, not really. I mean, she was your girlfriend and all. I mean, when I slept with you I actually had a boyfriend, and I never thought what we did was wrong. Well, I did at the beginning, but that soon passed," she chuckled. "She said you were unbelievably good, and I held my tongue at that. I know how good you are."

"You're giving me a swelled head!"

They got a movie first, and then to the Thai place where they got green curry with chicken, pad thai, and sticky jasmine rice. Back at his house Kate unpacked the bags while Alan was in the kitchen retrieving dishes, flatware, soft drinks, and glasses. They started the movie and sat in the den, eating off the coffee table. When the food was consumed they paused the tape and did the dishes together. When they went back to the couch Kate curled up in his arms.

"So how was she? Pauline, I mean. We, uh, never really talked about it before," she asked as the end credits rolled up the television.

"Do you really want to know?" he asked suspiciously

"Yeah. I promise, it wont bother me."

Alan took his time in framing his response. "Uh, different than you."

"Good answer. Very," she paused searching out the right word, "Diplomatic."

He laughed. "I'll show you 'diplomatic,' lassie," he bellowed as he grabbed her and pushed her off the couch and then chased her up to his bedroom, Kate cackling all the way. She stopped short at the entrance and Alan crashed into her, sending the pair of them tumbling through the doorway and falling over onto the carpeting. Alan picked her up and stood, throwing her onto the bed, and she loosed a giddy scream. Almost instantly he was on top of her, caressing her body through her clothes, his lips plastered to hers. They made out for a while, and then Alan rolled onto his back while the two of them caught their breath.

"What are you in the mood for tonight?"

"Surprise me," she said looking into his eyes, her own twinkling.

"Wait here," he said after a short kiss and then got off the bed and went over to the closet, and Kate slipped out of her clothes. He pulled a small bag from the closet and carried to his bed stand. The first thing he pulled out was her old butt plug, a device Kate hadn't seen in months, since high school. She giggled, but her arousal increased just by looking at it. Not asking her permission to insert it he gave her a light smack on her thigh, and she rolled over dutifully. He slowly pushed it up her hairless pussy, hearing a throaty moan in response. Once it was sufficiently lubricated he worked it up her tightest passage, and she couldn't help but to pant and purr.

"Feels so good, Alan. Yesssssss."

"What did you call me?"

"Master," she quickly corrected. "Feels so good, Master." He couldn't see her face because she was facing away and face down, but she was lit up like Shea Stadium for a night game.

He gave her a playful swat on her rear and ordered her to turn over and put her hands up over her head. Before she knew what was happening each of her wrists was attached to separate restraints which Alan then tied to the headboard with a length of cord.


"Hmmm. This is new, Master. I think I'm gonna like this," she whispered.

"I'm sure you will," he shot back, slowly drawing his fingers across her moistening pussy, eliciting a soft groan. Alan laid down on the bed, his mouth inches from Kate's wet cleft. The sensation of his warm breath against her nether lips was insanely maddening to her, the teasing of the act almost unbearable. Her pink nipples firmed up, the rings shining in the soft lighting of his bedroom.

"Please," she whined. "Lick me, please."

"'Lick me please, Master,'" he reminded her, tapping lightly on the protruding end of her butt plug to emphasize his point.

"Yes," she gasped. "Maaaaasterrrrr." Her entire body began to heave as best it could in the bonds as Alan stuck his tongue in her, tracing light patterns over her labia, but exasperatingly he was avoiding her hot clit for the most part. To make matters worse for her, just as she was about to reach her peak he stopped and withdrew his head from between her thighs.

"Hmmm," he said languidly as he inserted one of his fingers halfway up her tight pussy before using it to slowly stir her juices around. "I wonder."

"Wonder what? Master," she managed to say through her panting and gasping. So close! So very close!

"Well, you seem to like it when I play with your pussy, don't you, slave? When I lick it." Kate nodded vigorously.

"I wonder," he repeated, trailing off.

"Ah ah ah. W-wonder what, M-master?"

"When I was eating you, what were you thinking about? Who were you thinking about?"

Kate flushed, redness spreading all over her face and chest. He knew! How the fuck did he know? As Alan licked and played with her just now she wasn't thinking about him, but rather Scarlet. The shame of the idea of being with her bi roommate was furthering her arousal, and somehow Alan sensed this. Son of a bitch. "What are you talking about, Alan, I mean, Master?"

"You were thinking of Scarlet, weren't ya?"

"No," she gasped. Alan had increased the rhythm of his manipulations upon saying Scarlet's name, and she realized that her lie was pathetic.

"Admit it," he cajoled, sinking another finger to her soupy channel, and Kate groaned in response, afraid to speak lest she spill the beans. "Come on, say it. You think about Scarlet eating your pussy when I go down on you."

"Noooooo," she moaned, and Alan slowed his fingering.

"Say it, and I'll let you come, slave."

"P-p-please, please let me come," Kate gasped.

"Admit it, slave, you fantasize about being with Scarlet. It makes you wet."

Kate's eyes shot open, thinking about all the soaked sheets and panties she had washed in the last month. An orgasm of epic proportions was building within her, and she shook her head from side to side in an attempt to deny what Alan was suggesting. Droplets of sweat flew off the ends of her hair, spraying about his bedroom, but her mouth gave in at last. "Yesssss, Scarlet," she screamed, her body racked with tremors. Juice spurted from her folds, drenching Alan's hand as she shook and trembled in orgasm. Her thighs clamped together, trapping his hand in her hot pussy while she cried in release. The shakes finally passed and Alan extricated his hand from her pussy, and had positioned himself next to her on the bed, gently kissing her face, licking the drool of from around her lips.

"Feel better?"

She nodded.

"The truth always feels better, doesn't it?"

She nodded again, looking down across her body in the process. Her thighs were glistening with her girl-come, gleaming from her pussy straight down past her knees. It already began to feel sticky down there, and she would have liked a shower, or, at the very least, the opportunity to wipe herself down with a towel, but she was still tied to the headboard, and thought better of asking Alan--tonight, her Master--for the chance to clean up. She let out a satisfied sigh and looked at his face.

"How, how did you know?" she asked, her embarrassment written across her once-again blushing face.

"When the subject is 'What turns on Katie Van Devanter' I consider myself an expert," he retorted with a laugh, and she laughed with him.

"Yeah, you push my buttons like no one can."

"So, are you going to?" he asked a little while later, breaking off a hot and heavy kissing session.

"Am I going to, what? Master."

"Scarlet," he said, grinning slightly.

"Are Scarlet and I going to, uh, do it? Is that what you're asking, Master."

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