Pheromone Wars Ch. 02

Miranda turned around. All of a sudden, the window flickered and became a monitor. Was Jaren in a skyscraper? Was he underground?

"In 1865, some of the most powerful aristocracy of the South, along with a few industrialists from the North, made a secret pact to take over America. They saw what they feared to be the destruction of this country based on the rise of suffrage, abolitionism, and Tammany Hall democracy. These powerful men, coming from a line of Knight Templars, vowed to secretly take over the government of this country and to reshape it into a new order where democracy was replaced by a new aristocracy, women are redefined as chattel, and the majority of the citizenry are turned into slaves by subconscious messages within the television and lithium slowly distributed in the water supply."

As she talked, Miranda reached behind Nala and began to unzip her skirt. Nala leaned forward, grasping onto the table, and lifted each leg to let the skirt fall to the ground. She was only wearing stockings and a garter belt. Her pussy was shaven.

Images of old white men vaguely familiar to Jaren from history textbooks flickered across the screen.

"These folks are two-parts mystic cult, one part terrorist cell. And we have been mandated by the secret edict of Jimmy Carter, probably the greatest American defender against democracy, to root them out and destroy them. We are a secret organization with broad discretion."

"But what is up with everyone dressed in fetish gear?"

Jaren tried to ignore Nala as she clung to the desk and panted. Her legs had spread wide. And without taking attention away from Jaren, Miranda was slowly running her fingers along Nala's clit.

"The vestigial part of our brain that holds the mental controls is neurally connected to the sexual centers of our brains. They share a holistic connection that our scientists are just trying to figure out. Needless to say, the quickest and easiest way to "tap" into anyone's consciousness is through their sex drive, it renders most of their mental defenses powerless. At the same end, you're going to need to learn a stronger control of your own to defend yourself against a psychic attack. At 0800, we have tantric training to build up psychic resistance. But I'll show you what you're going to have to deal with."

Miranda lashed out. Jaren could see the presence of her mind tentacles whipping towards him. Quickly, he tried to mimic her actions using his own mind. He reached forward to grasp at the aura emanating from her head. She smiled; you need to think a little lower, he heard her think. Jaren looked down. One of her tentacles had come up behind him, and it had wrapped around his cock. He felt a warm heat as the energy spread up through his core. His body began to jerk like a puppet on strings.

He reached down and pulled down his zipper, letting his hard cock flop out. His bulbous head pointed at Miranda. She stood up and unzipped her catsuit, wiggling it off her body, and for the first time, Jaren saw her completely naked. She was a brunette goddess, her dark hair enveloping her face like a dark halo. Her large natural breasts sagged slightly but bounced with every movement she made. Her hips widened out to a shapely round ass, and little landing strip of dark curling hair adorned her fleshy pussy. A tattoo of an omega sign was inked above her pelvis.

She lay back in her office chair, and spread her legs, dropping her ankles over each side of the armrests. Nala immediately turned around and moved beside her, bending down to kiss her.

Jaren jerked forward. He was frantically trying to pull himself free of Miranda's mental controls, but he was trapped like a fly in a spider's web. He fell to his knees before the smiling Miranda brought his face to her pussy and began to give it long slow licks. Jaren always considered himself good at eating pussy. Still, he marveled at the subtle modifications Miranda was able to make to his mind to transform him into an expert at cunnilingus. So, these mental controls he heard her in his head, they can be a scalpel as well as a hammer.

Jaren struggled to resist her, but every psychic attack was deflected by her own. As if to add insult to injury, she clutched his hair. "Good boy," she moaned, "Nala, suck on my titties. I'll let you use his cock all you want."

Jaren stopped trying to resist her and let his mind go free. He relaxed and focused on exploring her pussy with his tongue, waiting for the right moment. Miranda guided his tongue, using him as a toy to get her off.

Jaren could feel Nala leaning across him and latching on to Miranda's nipple with her mouth.

"Nala was a bright young psychologist working out of Oxford, but when I saw her, I knew I had to personally recruit her. As an agent, you are allowed some discretions. Almost all of us here have our own personal pets."

Jaren knew this was some sort of a test, but was at a loss for how he was going to stop Miranda. Her defenses were impenetrable; however, Nala's mind was awash in orgasmic energy and far less controlled.

Miranda laughed as Nala violently grabbed her wrists and pulled them above her head.

"Clever boy," she said, as dusky scientist pressed her breasts across Miranda's face. It was all the distraction Jaren needed to break free. Still lashing at Miranda's pussy with his tongue, he connected his power source to hers.

As her body writhed around his head, her mental control slackened, and Jaren soon had her mentally bonded to him. His tendrils wrapped themselves around wrists and ankles, spreading her out further on the chair. He rose from his kneeling position, positioned his cock at her wet slit, and pushed in. She smiled at him from below, already planning her counter-attack.

Miranda smiled. "You learn fast."

Suddenly, Nala was kissing him. Her body was straddling Miranda, and his hands clung to her breasts.

Afterward, as Miranda was tucking her breasts back into her bodysuit, and Nala put her hair back into a professional bun, Jaren asked. "It's going to be hard to control using this. The temptation has to always be there."

Miranda turned to him. "Jaren, with the constant pressure put upon our agents, we certainly understand and turn our eye to occasional discretion. Nala will show you the paperwork that needs to be filled out for every person who you interfere with during off duty hours. We find that the threat of bureaucratic tapes tends to keep our agents from overdoing anything. You just need to remember that now you are a representative of the United States government. One night stand with a cheerleader is alright; three-week orgy with the Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders is another thing, and the punishment is filling out reams of paperwork."

Jaren nodded. Things weren't so different from the FBI, after all.

***

Rosenda waited patiently at the kitchen table. She had just gotten off the phone with Jaren's boss at FBI headquarters after being passed around from one nervous deputy agent to the next. The man's response was cryptic; Jaren was away on government business, a particular case, and the FBI could not reveal confidential information that might jeopardize the case.

After ten minutes of getting the runaround, Rosenda finally hung up. She got up to put hot water on the kettle and started making tea. She hoped the soothing hot liquid would calm her nerves.

Rosenda had been used to Jaren working long hours, but even on the overnight trips, he had always taken time to call her and say goodnight. She worried about him, and knew that something was eating him up inside, something he wanted to tell her, but was afraid to. She expected that he was cheating on her, and that scared her because she couldn't bear the thought of him leaving her. She knew that if he was cheating on her, then she was supposed to leave him, that her friends would judge her if she didn't leave him, but she also knew that she wouldn't do it.

Rosenda's girlfriends had long since told her to dump Jaren. You are beautiful, they said, you look just like Eva Longoria, with your dark hair and slim figure. The late hours and absent weekends weren't worth it.

She couldn't explain what she saw in Jaren. His presence made her feel relaxed and domesticated, and his absence left her feeling stressed, nervous, and a little nauseous. He was a drug to her. She didn't want to admit how weak that made her sound.

He was her first lover and the only man in her life. Before him, Rosenda felt secure and independent, but after he shoved his cock inside that night in high school, she felt as if God had sold her to him.

He owned her wholly, and even when he nervously asked her to marry him, what she wanted to tell him was that for her, it was more than just a marriage of equals, but that he owned her body and soul. She knew that he wanted more from her sexually. But she was too embarrassed to give it to him because she didn't know how, and he never asked.

Lately, she had been fantasizing about taking him in her mouth. Her girlfriend had complained the weekend before that it was something her husband always wanted, and she was sick of him asking. Rosenda was shocked that a woman could do such a thing. Her body melted, imagining Jaren placing his hard cock against her lips, pressing them against her obstinate lips until they parted, slowly pushing his length into her mouth. She had told herself that next time she would hold her courage together and ask him if he would like her to do that for him.

Her fantasy was interrupted by a knock on the door. She rushed to open it, knocking over her hot tea. There was Jaren standing sheepishly in the doorframe. She fell into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck, and began to sob. "I thought something terrible had happened to you. They wouldn't tell me anything."

Jaren carried her into the house as she cried against his shoulder. He took her into the kitchen, sat down in the chair, and held her in his lap. Then he let her cry. When she was finished, he pulled her away from him so that he could look her in the eyes.

"Honey, we need to talk."

"I don't want to talk. Just hold me."

"No, I haven't dared to tell you the truth. I haven't been a man and less of a husband. But now that doesn't matter."

"Jaren, what are you talking about? You're scaring me."

"Honey, I realize now that I shouldn't have felt guilty. The power I have is a part of me. It is a part of me, like my faith, or my dad and my granddad being cops. It is who I am, and I'm o.k. with that now." He smiled at her.

"Baby, there are going to be a few changes, but I want you to know that I love you more than anyone in the world. You are the only one I love."

"I love you too." Hearing him say he loved her, Rosenda sighed, and the old feeling of being possessed came back to her with gushing warmth.

"But I have been cheating on you. I've been fucking multiple women, including my partner."

"What?" Rosenda stared at him in shock. This could not be happening. She felt like she was in a nightmare.

"God help me, I couldn't tell you because I knew I would lose you. But now I don't have to lose you. Now we can both be honest with each other and happy."

"How dare you." Rosenda reached over to slap him across the face.

"Stop," Jaren said it as a whispered growl, and Rosenda felt a strange alien force strike her through the heart, and hook on to it. Her body went rigid.

Jaren reached up gently and pulled her hand down to her side from where it had almost struck his face. "It might not be fair, but I promise you that you will be happy. In fact, this is the only way that I can be assured that you will be happy with me gone all the time."

"First, let's turn off the anger." Rosenda felt her impotent fury drain out her body, leaving her completely empty. With the anger gone, the more subtle feelings of inadequacy that were beneath it were now visible.

Rosenda stared at Jaren, frozen like a marble statue with her mouth open in a scream. Fear and confusing bubbled up inside her and mixed with her feelings of self-loathing. Jaren was talking almost to himself, and staring with his brow furrowed, looking like he was trying to untie some sort of knot.

"I never realized that you felt like that. When we met, you were so confident and free, but I think my powers on a subconscious level transferred over my own negative feelings to you. I was mentally conditioning you to be the kind of slut that I wanted, but also transferring over my guilt at desiring those things from you as well. You must have felt horrible."

He touched her cheek. "First, I'm going to make you see yourself the way I see you." All of a sudden, a new emotion erupted in Rosenda's mind like a tidal wave that crashed over her negative feelings tearing their foundations down.

"But," he said, "So that I don't do it again, I need to remake you into the women I secretly fantasize about. Don't worry, I won't change your core personality; just brush away the cobwebs of parental and societal expectations to reveal the slut underneath.

Rosenda felt flush with arousal. Her pussy became permanently wet, and her nipples hardened. She moaned, and her eyes scanned down Jaren's body to his crotch.

"Listen," Said Jaren, "You are going to love me unconditionally. You're going to forgive me for sleeping with those women. You love me and know that as a man, it is perfectly fine for me to fuck other sluts. You want me to be happy. You are also going to fully embrace your submissiveness. You know that I love you for your wit and intelligence and fiery spirit, and that won't change. Still, you also trust that ultimately, as your husband and provider that I know best for you, and you will always defer to me in the decision making. The thought of submitting to me feels natural and makes you horny. You are not jealous or fearful of the other women. You know that will never replace you in my heart and that I will always love you. You are incredibly sexually attracted to me, and you are committed to being the sexiest, sluttiest woman in my life."

"You will learn every sexual fantasy I want and strive to give it to me before I even ask it. You will dedicate yourself to be the best, sexiest little housewife. To keeping the house clean and making a good dinner, to always be dressed to entice me. When I am gone, you will watch porn and learn how to be the sluttiest slut possible on the inside, while on the outside still being my innocent little housewife. You know that your entire body, including your mouth, pussy, and asshole belongs to me completely, and you won't hesitate to give them to me. You are sexually attracted to other women first because you are bisexual and second because you know it turns me on to watch you with other women. While I am gone, I have given you my permission to bring home women to our bedroom, and you will actively look for other women for us to share."

"Lastly, you are going to be completely content and completely happy. You will love to exercise and stay healthy. Other hobbies or interests that you had before, you have my permission to explore as much as you like as long as it doesn't interfere with our marriage. You will be thrilled with your new life."

Rosenda came back to consciousness like she was walking out of a deep fog. With glassy eyes, she looked up at her husband. She adored him; she couldn't understand how she could be angry that he fucked around behind her back. She was only irritated that he hadn't brought the women home to share with her. For a second, she pictured Jaren's female partner sandwiched between Jaren and herself, then she focused on Jaren's face.

"Oh, baby, I love you so much. I promise that I will be the best wife ever." She reached up and gave him a long hot kiss. When it broke, she asked him sweetly,

"Honey, would you like it if I put my mouth around your cock and licked it. I don't know if I'm any good, but I promise I will try my best."

Jaren smiled. "That's called a blowjob, honey, and don't worry, you'll be getting lots of practice at that until your able to do it exactly the way that I like, but first you need to get changed. We're going out."

Rosenda was confused and disappointed. "But baby." She ground her thighs against his leg. "I thought we might go upstairs, and you know..." She looked at him shyly and bit her bottom lip.

"Honey, you need to do what I say and be an obedient wifey; unless you want a spanking, that is."

Rosenda suddenly realized that she might really like being spanked, but she knew she had to be a good wife.

Jaren squeezed her ass, "hurry it up, you have half an hour to get ready, and make sure you're sexy and just a little slutty."

"Yes, Sir."

Rosenda slowly walked up the stairs to their bedroom, looking coyly behind her at Jaren. Jaren smiled at her, "I'll wait right here for you. Surprise me."

When Rosenda came down, Jaren was stunned. Rosenda wore a red cocktail dress that hugged every curve of her body. The hem ended far above the knee, and there were slits in the side to show. The top was more modest, but still tight along her bust, showcasing her natural curves. Rosenda's hair was done in silky dark waves that trailed down her back. She looked absolutely gorgeous.

She smiled at the expression on his face. "So, where are we going?"

"We're going out to find you a beautiful woman to fuck."

"Ooo, are you going to fuck her too?"

"No, I'm going to watch. I've been with so many women without you, I want to even the score. I want you to go to the club and dance your heart out while I watch. I want you to flirt with every woman you find attractive. When you find the one you want to sleep with for the first time, I want you to tell me, and I will take it from there."

Rosenda smiled and laughed. "You're such a romantic."

***

Rosenda danced wildly to the Latin rhythms of the dance club. The club was a kaleidoscope of bright strobe lights that throbbed with the bass and dark shadows where bodies pressed against bodies.

The writhing bodies of college girls surrounded Rosenda. She danced with a wild abandon that soon had girls drawn to her hot body like moths to a flame. A brunette in hip hugger jeans and a tight top had slid in behind her and placed her hands around her waist. A shorthaired redhead had backed her body up against her and was rolling her ass along her body. Rosenda's hands were sliding up the young girl's taunt stomach to just below her breasts. Sheets of sweat covered their bodies as the girls danced together in synchronized sexuality.

Rosenda could sense the presence of her husband and master at the periphery of the club. She knew that he could see her through the crowd. She knew he was watching her body, wrapped tightly in a slinky red dress. She knew that he could see the look of rapture on her face, could see the hands of the other women slyly running over her ass and stomach, could see her eyes closed and her mouth opened in a moan of sapphic desire.

The redhead turned around and wrapped her arms around Rosenda. Their hips rocked together to the music as Rosenda reached down to cup the girl's ass. Rosenda reached down and kissed the surprised girl on the lips. She took the girl by the hand and led her out of the group.

Outside of the dance floor, Rosenda got a good look at her conquest. The girl's hair was a dark natural burgundy cut into a pixie-like haircut that showcased her cute, round nose, and round cheekbones. The girl's face was more attractive than beautiful, and her body was thin and wiry. She wore a dark purple frilly halter top and a push-up bra to give her meager portions of breasts a lift and black tights that showcased her best feature, her ass, and coltish legs.

The most appealing thing about her, according to a newly bi-sexual Rosenda, was the way the girl looked at her like a lost puppy wanting to follow her home.