Pheromone Wars Ch. 02

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An agent is trained; A Girl is Rescued.
11.2k words
4.49
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Part 3 of the 5 part series

Updated 12/13/2023
Created 01/10/2019
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All Characters are over the age of 18.

Cast of Characters:

The Covenant, a secret patriarchal terrorist organization that uses pheromone technology to undermine the United States Government

Rachel, 18 years old, brunette, kidnapped by the Covenant

Kitty, 18 years old, her lover, kitty fetish, brought together by the Covenant.

Jaren Carter, FBI agent, Rising Star, Approached by Omega

Gina Francis, Jonah's partner, affair, kidnapped by Covenant.

Rosenda, Jaren's wife, affected by Jaren's latent telepathy.

Miranda, a tall curvy brunette, wears a catsuit, mysterious.

Nurse Nala, Head of the psychic program, Indian, beautiful.

Omega Control, a top-secret organization, created by President Jimmy Carter to combat the Covenant. Omega Control recruits latent telepaths and trains them.

******

Jaren Carter sat against the concrete wall stunned, EMS technicians hovering overhead like flies. The events of the past hour seemed to replay themselves in his head like a bad dream.

His partner is dragged into the van, as he lifts his arms. No, no, his mind screams. The van pulls around the corner, his arms slowly rising to try and get a shot. Bullets crack around him; the bullets in Carter's own gun hit a man standing by the other van. Another man is in the truck, and Jaren begins running.

He doesn't know how he does it, but at the garage entrance, as the truck is turning out onto the street, Jaren catches up. He sees the man, perfectly framed in the driver's side window like a shooting gallery target, and reflex kicks in. He fires, the glass shatters into a spider-web, and the car veers across the street and then ricochets off a guardrail.

Now the EMS agents were alternating shining lights in his eyes. FBI agent Franks stood behind them with his notebook in hand, a scowl on his face. In the distance, Jaren could see female agents wrapping blankets around the girls.

Jaren pushed the man's flashlight aside and eyeballed Franks, "Am I free to go now, Sir? I want to help with the manhunt."

Franks looked at the EMS guys, and they nodded their heads. "We got your report, you're damn lucky. I don't know what the hell you were thinking of going up against a dozen guys like that. You better believe this is going in my report. Consider yourself on suspens-"

Franks's voice was cut off by the sound of rotor blades.

A black helicopter wheeled around the side of the building, the force from the rotors blasting hats off heads, and landed in the street. A dozen agents in dark suits jumped out, followed by a brunette in a skintight catsuit and black aviator rims. She moved with a commanding strut on six-inch stilettos followed by men in black who clearly deferred to her. Flippantly, she pulled out an ID from her belt.

She looked like a slutty Halloween costume version of a secret agent.

"Thank you, commander, we'll take it from here. I need to see the witness now. You can go. We need to take the girls you found into our custody as well."

Franks's face was apoplectic. "Who the hell do you..."

The women cut him off, "You should be getting a call from the police commissioner in about five seconds. He'll explain everything."

"Hold on a damn minute here." All of a sudden, Franks's phone cell phone started to ring. He pulled it out of his pocket while glaring at the woman in front of him. His eyes dropped down to the screen.

"Dammit!" He pressed reply.

"Sir. Yes, Sir, of course, Sir."

As Franks talked on the phone, the beautiful woman grabbed Jaren and started walking him over to the helicopter. "You need to come with us."

"Who are you?"

She pulled her glasses down to look at him. Her eyes were mesmerizingly amethyst.

"You can call me Miranda. I'm going to cut to the chase because I don't have time for this. I work for a government agency similar to the CIA and NSA but with some broader discretion. Our sole purpose is to counter a terrorist threat that has gained the capacity to use mind control to take over our country. They are called the Covenant. But now we need to know who you are. Doctor."

Jaren turned to see another woman in a lab coat step out of the helicopter. She appeared to be Indian with dark brown skin and refined features set behind thin-framed black glasses. Her hair was coiled back into a bun, and she had a colored lavender Sari dot on her face. The coat barely contained a ripe figure.

She jabbed a large microphone looking device in his face.

"Beta waves are off the chart. I believe his subliminal is already trying to attack our psych guards. He's not even aware he's doing it."

The woman spoke in a refined Oxford accent.

Miranda smiled at Jaren, and his cock surged erect. Her jumpsuit was partially unzipped, revealing ample breasts pushed up by what must have been an impressive push-up bra.

"Here," She said, sweetly, "We'll explain everything back at headquarters."

She unzipped her rubber catsuit, and her large pendulous breasts fell out, bouncing in front of him. Miranda reached over and pulled Jaren towards her. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the woman in the lab coat smiling, her hands squeezing her own more modest-sized breasts. But mainly, all he could see were Miranda's rosy fat nipples rocking like a metronome.

He felt a yanking in his mind like a string attached to his consciousness pulling him into this strange woman's bosom. His face fell into the cleavage of her breasts. He could feel her full tits pressed against each cheek, and his face was soon smothered by warm flesh. Suddenly, there was a pinch on the back of his neck.

"What?" His head flew back. Miranda had a small needle attached to a ring on her finger. She was slowly zipping her tits back into her outfit as Jaren fell back on the floor.

"What is..." He mumbled, and the last thing he could hear was the beating of the helicopter rotors taking off and then black.

***

"Jaren. Jaren. Wake up."

Jaren opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was the reflection of himself in the dark mirror in front of him. His body was reclined in a metal chair, and he was stripped down to his boxer shorts. His hands were handcuffed to the chair behind him. Various ECG wires were attached to his chest and forehead and wound their way downwards toward a dark machine blinking and beeping behind him.

Another voice came into the intercom. It was the British voice of the Indian doctor he saw earlier. Even over the throbbing headache that he was beginning to notice, he could recall her face and body clearly.

"His Subliminals are already seeking out for contact. His heart rate is elevated."

Jaren groaned. It sounded like psychobabble to him. He flexed his arms, trying to see if he could find any weak spots in the cuffs behind him. He began to survey the room as well for a possible escape.

The room was a bare concrete block, much like the interrogation room back at headquarters. There was a metallic, futuristic sliding door on his left side that he could barely see through the corners of his eyes.

That's the way out, he thought.

In the front corner, there was a television screen mounted to the wall. Next to it was a polished see-through mirror that showed his reflection.

Or maybe I use the chair to break through that, he reconsidered.

"Jaren, you need to calm down and pay attention. You have officially had your citizenship revoked under the 'Individuals with Special Powers' act. This will be hard to accept. You need to realize that we are the good guys. You're going to have to trust me."

All of a sudden, the mirror lit up, and Jaren could see into the next room. The four women from the van were sitting in chairs just like Jaren, lined up and facing him. It was clear that the women couldn't see through the mirror at Jaren, but Jaren could see them. The women were stripped to their lingerie.

Each was wearing different colored sets; the brunette was in a black garter belt and stockings, and an open cup bra revealing rings in her nipples, the redhead was in a burgundy bra and panty set and a matching pair of red high heels, the Blonde was in a fishnet bodysuit that wrapped around her curvaceous older body, and the black girl was a young college girl in light burgundy panties and a white cotton bra and rainbow knee socks.

The door slid open with a whirr, and a nurse walked into the room. She was wearing a white nurse uniform that ended right below her crotch. The front was barely zipped, revealing her large fake breasts. She sauntered into the room in black heels holding a metal tray. Jaren began to struggle as she put one hand against the back of his neck and stuck him with a needle.

Jaren's nostrils flared. All of a sudden, he could see the room in stark relief. He could feel the heat of the nurse's body, and he could sense a dizzying cloud of thoughts and emotions coming from behind him.

"Jaren, I need you to focus on the television."

The television screen flickered to life, revealing bloody carnage; it was a terrible milieu of burning bodies, mass graves, gunfire, and screams. The nurse grabbed him and yanked his head towards the screen.

"You're fucking crazy!" Screamed Jaren.

"You need to watch this, Jaren. We need you to synch up with the girls and to do that you need--- we need--- to induce a large emotional shock." Jaren watched the screen in front of him with growing horror. Out of the corner of his eyes, the four girls were squirming their eyes white with fear. Jaren could hear the woman on the intercom.

"Girl's adrenaline levels are rising along with heart rates. Girl # 1 synching up with his neural web, Girl # 2, All girls are synching up."

The television in the corner suddenly switched. On the screen, a blond porn star was riding a man's dick while another man pushed himself into her ass from behind. The nurse moved in front of Jaren and kneeled. She started to run her hands over his hardening cock.

"What the hell," Growled Jaren. The nurse looked up at Jaren with a sultry smirk.

"His sexual impulses are beginning their sync phase. He's entering protector stage. He'll have full control of the girls in forty-five seconds."

Jaren had to look away from the nurse breathing hotly on his dick. The women were now writhing in their chairs. Jaren couldn't hear through the glass, but he could see the women's faces moaning in orgasm.

"You're doing this to them, Jaren. You're making them orgasm. You've always been able to do this." The nurse between Jaren's legs took a deep breath and began to suck his cock. Her mouth slid down to the root. Her eyes were glossy.

"I know you don't believe me, but you have been able to do this for years, likely since puberty."

"What the hell! Let me out of here!" Jaren had a difficult time controlling his breathing as she sucked harder.

"You had to know that something was different about you. Things have come easy for you. We know about your success with women. We know about your partner, and we've seen the picture of your wife in your files. Jaren, You're good looking, but not good looking enough to keep women like that on a cop's salary."

Jaren thought back to when he first met his future wife at St. Mary's parochial school. She was just virginal waif of a girl, yet still an angelic beauty. She was being encouraged to go into modeling after school. Though no one of her friends or family liked him, she gravitated towards the young, gangly Irish boy. He had managed to convince her to go with him to the high school prom, a feat no one could believe. And even though she had made a promise to save herself until marriage, in an unlocked classroom after the dance, she had willingly, eagerly, and hungrily gave herself to this shocked senior. No one could believe it when she got pregnant. They married shortly afterward.

Even after all of his indiscretions, the guilt that ate him up inside, his wife never appeared suspicious. As the years progressed, her natural fire and teenage intensity dimmed, as she transformed into a sweet, attentive, and submissive housewife.

At headquarters, Jaren would hear the other guys complain about their wives and girlfriends. As a cop, working long hours for low pay, marriage was considered a pain in the ass. But when Jaren got home, his wife would be waiting for him in a white silk shift, a hot plate of food on the table, and as he ate, she would massage his back, and wait patiently to take him up the bedroom and fuck him hard. Jaren thought it was strange how lucky he had it, compared to the other guys, and this only led to more shame on his part at all the accidental affairs he had behind her back.

"Let's look at your record, Jaren. Your last lieutenant swore that you had an intuitive knack for getting confessions out of suspects. He says he never saw anything like it in his life. Nurse Cindy, you can stop please, we need to administer the adrenaline shot."

Nurse Cindy slid her mouth off of Jaren's cock and looked up at him with pleading eyes.

"Yes, Mam," she said in a forlorn voice and stood up to retrieve the needle.

"Nurse Cindy needs to administer an adrenaline shot. Right now, your powers are dormant, Jaren, but we have figured out a way to activate them. Jaren, you need to believe me that you are now a weapon of the United States Government against its enemies, foreign, but more importantly, domestic. We have a snake in our garden, Jaren."

Through the window, Jaren could see nurses checking the kidnapped girls, and making sure they were secure in their harnesses.

There was a small pinch in his back, and immediately his spine bent in half. Jaren felt as if searing lava was being poured into his brain. A burning heat flashed in front of his eyes, and suddenly he could see waves of energy emanating from the women in front of him.

Long tendrils of energy leaped out like solar sunspots from the four women and the three nurses in the next room. Behind, he could sense every strand of energy coming from Nurse Cindy as well. Glowing star-like projections were somehow visible through the now transparent walls of the cell. Emanating from his chest was a cephalopod-like glowing mass with tendrils shooting outwards, each one leading to the center of every woman he could see.

In amazement, Jaren saw that he could control the tendrils with his mind as easily as if he could move his arms. He whipped one back to latch on to the energy surge that was Cindy behind him.

He didn't even know how he did it, but somehow without being able to see her, he was able to shut her down. He heard a long wet moan and the noise of a body slumping to the ground. All of a sudden, Klaxons started to go off in the room.

"Fuck, he's learning faster then I've ever seen. We need to get in there."

Jaren grinned.

Quickly, while still connecting to Cindy, he shot some more tendrils outward towards the nurses. Cocoon like force fields projected themselves around two of them, but Jaren was quick enough to catch the third and latch on to her energy. He could feel her mind fight for control. He intuitively felt what he thought were the gross motor controls and had the nurse walk, like a struggling puppet, over to the machine, pick it up and fling it through the mirror with a crash.

"Now, come here." Thought Jaren. "Come here and get these handcuffs off me."

"Jaren, you need to stop this." The voice was no longer coming from the intercom; instead, it was coming from inside the room. Miranda was standing there in front of him, her mind strangely devoid of energy signatures.

Jaren lashed out with his tendrils, energy walls formed around her blocking each attack. A tendril shot from her mind. Jaren tried to bat it away with his own projectile, but her mind attack was quicker. It entwined itself with him, sliding up the arm like a snake, and latching on to him like some sort of parasite. Suddenly, all of the aggression drained out of his body, leaving him exhausted.

"How did you do this?" Groaned Jaren.

"We didn't, Jaren. You did. You've always had this power. We just gave you the ability to directly control it. We're not the bad guys Jaren, We're the good guys, and now you're one of us."

***

The nurses quickly led Jaren away to a medical room. Miranda's energy leached away all his will, and, like a zombie, Jaren complied. Cindy and another nurse tucked him into sleep, but not before Cindy hungrily grabbed hold of his cock and gave it a squeeze. She licked her lips, but the other nurse pulled her away.

Jaren drifted off, exhausted from the ordeal, and wondering when his wife would start to question where he had gone.

When Jaren woke up, Miranda was sitting by his bed, waiting.

"Finally awake," She said.

Jaren looked at her with suspicion, "Where am I?"

She smiled, "All in good time. First, put on some clothes and come with me."

There was a dark suit neatly pressed beside the bed. Jaren got up and turned his back to her.

"Come on, it's not like I haven't seen it before. You have a marvelous cock, don't be shy with it."

Jaren glared at her but started putting on the clothes. When he was done, she got up, pointedly dragging her eyes away from his dick. She smiled and asked, "Can you feel it?"

Jaren's eyes widened. He could feel the energy; almost see it in fact, beyond his eyesight. Strands of energy floated in an unseen current throughout the room. Some trailed outwards through the door; many of them emanated from Miranda herself.

Miranda smiled warmly. "Yes, it's still there, not as powerful perhaps as when you were doped up with adrenaline, psilocybin, mescaline, and LSD, but you sense it now. Let me show you how to use it."

She walked him out of the room into a massive complex; men were walking about in dark suits like the one Jaren wore. The women wore the same, except with skirts and stockings. Nurses were moving about too, all dressed in ridiculously sexy nurse outfits. Jaren was shocked when he walked by a cubicle to see one of them on her knees, sucking off one of the MIB.

An elevator ride later ou hand Miranda guided Jaren to her office. He was in a skyscraper, likely thirty floors up, a large window overlooking the Hudson Bay.

She sat down in her chair, facing him.

"Sit." She said. Jaren sat down.

"Thirty years previous to my own initiation, I was a cop like yourself. I know you want answers. I will get them for you. I work for an organization called Omega Control. Our job is to protect this country from the threat of the Covenant."

Jaren fumbled for words. He thought about asking about his job at the FBI, then realized that all of that felt ridiculously small considering everything he had seen.

"What about my abilities? What the hell did I just see in there? That felt like magic, like an out-of-body experience."

Miranda smiled. "Perhaps someone with more of a scientific background should explain this."

She clicked on an intercom. Professor Nala, could you please come in?"

The dusky hued Indian woman stepped into the room. She was smartly dressed in a conservative blouse and jacket and a skirt that only accentuated her full ass. Her wireframe glasses gave her the look of a stereotypical scientist. She stepped over to Miranda's side and started to provide a report.

"Using full-spectrum scanning, we've discovered that every living being emits tachyon fields that can link and interface with the fields of others. We suspect humans have been using these fields for years, which might explain charisma motivator behavior theories that have been developed to explain the particular success some people have at manipulating others."

Her explanation was crisp and English. It only faltered when Miranda reached forward and casually put her hand on Nala's ass.

"Basically," said Miranda, "Government scientists have found a secret energy source that emanates from human bodies. It turns out that all of the old Hindu mind-body energy stuff is more than just new-age bullshit. Psychic energy exists. These waves are emitted from all human beings, but a few still have vestigial DNA that allows them to control it. You are one of those people. Our branch has been secretly observing the American public, finding those who have your powers, and requisitioning them for our fight against the Covenant. The energy you have makes you one of the most significant beings on the planet. If you wished you could take over a small country. You could turn Jessica Alba into your own personal slave. Others, private actors, have already done so. What we want is to use your power for the good of this great country. Protect it from its enemies. We know you are a patriot and a believer in law and order. We wish for you to use your powers for the good of your country. "