Pheromone Wars Ch. 03

"Bambi, I want you to slap her titties while I fuck her. When you're done, they better be bright red. Understand?"

Justine's eyes rolled back into her head as Jaren entered her. "Yeah, baby, slap mamma's titties. Please!"

Jaren began to fuck her hard, thrusting his dick deep into her pussy and pounding her into the chair. Bambi started to open-hand slap her tits as they bounce with each thrust.

"O, God. Fuck mommy. Mommy hasn't been fucked in so long. She needs your cock. Oh God, it hurts. Spank my fat tits." Jaren had his hands in her hair like he was holding on to reins as he fucked her harder than he had fucked any woman before.

Justine started coming as Bambi improvised, spitting in her face slapping her and calling her a fat cow. She leaned forward and began to violently kiss her open, drooling mouth.

Jaren pulled out and shoved his cock in her ass while she squealed around Bambi's mouth. She came again from the ass fucking. Bambi had both of her hands wrapped around mounds of tit flesh, squeezing painfully.

"Thank you, Bambi. You can go help the other girls." As Bambi left, Jaren turned Justine over. Her face was a wet mess of spit and tears. There were bruises all over her tits. Jaren hoped it was enough for her to subconsciously identify him as one of the Collective.

"Does this mean you are taking us back to the compound? Please, I want to see my girls again. I promise my daughters, and I will put on a show for you. I know you want to watch me fuck them, and I miss them so much!"

Jaren had no idea what she was talking about, "I can see about getting you a chance to see your girls again. But first, you need to obey me." He put his dick up to her face. "Clean me."

She reached forward, holding her mouth open until his cock was in the back of her throat, then closing it tight around him. She slid her mouth back, sucking all of his cum and her juices off of his cock.

He wiped what was left on her red tit.

"Now there were two young girls that came here earlier. I need to know where they were taken."

******

"How did you know?"

Jaren looked at Miranda. "I figured that the pheromone controls the Covenant used worked on sex triggers. If we could sexually humiliate the girls, their minds would associate me with the organization they belonged to.

"It was still a risk," Miranda said.

"It occurred to me when we found the other girls before. How quickly they looked to me to be their master. I think the Covenant made a mistake. The backdoor to get into the girl's head is through sexually dominating them."

"Good work. We have a location where the Covenant brought the two girls. It's a compound to the north of here. We are going to raid it in the morning."

******

"How do you like it when I fuck your face with my pussy?" Ms. Steffans moaned.

Even if Rachel could answer with her mouth pressed tight against Ms. Steffans' clit, she wouldn't have. She had enough experience now at the academy to recognize the question as obviously rhetorical. She just moaned appreciatively and erotically as possible as Steffans ground her pussy into Rachel's face with both of her hands.

The hierarchy at the Covenant was byzantine with girls promoted and demoted at the whim of men. Some women like headmistress Constance were a voice of calm, an older sister, and sexual comfort, but most women in charge were always envious of each other, and just as bad as the men.

Ms. Steffans had taken a liking to Rachel and had enough authority to bring her to her room.

"Lick my pussy. Suffocate on my pussy, you stupid slut. I know what you sluts are like thinking you can replace me, but it's not going to happen, brainless bimbo."

As Ms. Steffans poured out the torrents of abuse upon her, Rachel mainly ignored it. Her training as an agent at the academy gave her a new focus and made it easy for her to filter out the punishment.

On the surface, she kept her eyes open with fear and her tongue out lapping (She knew it would only get worse if Steffans felt like she wasn't punished enough). Inside her head, she was mainly going over the ambassadorial protocols at official functions. They would have a test tomorrow, and she wanted to pass.

Her mind absently brought up Kitty. She wondered where she was now. Rachel thought, perhaps, there was something wrong with herself. The pheromones were supposed to condition the brain to detach emotions when girls separated. The Patriarch didn't want real lesbians, only sapphic girls, for their entertainment. They allowed a certain amount of interaction amongst the girls because, at this point, there were far more girl slaves than men, and some sexual release was good for morale, but girls weren't supposed to have long-term attachments.

Rachel wondered if Kitty was thinking of her wherever she was. She missed her; she wanted her back. In her first mental subordination since being captured, Rachel decided to get her back. Ms. Steffans came on her face, clenching her thighs hard.

She crawled off of Rachel. "God, you have a hot little body. I envy the men you seduce for the Covenant."

All of a sudden, klaxon bells went off in the compound. Rachel knew what that meant. They were under attack.

"Shit. I need to get to the intake office and erase the biographical forms." Steffans started for the door. Rachel knew the biographical forms had the whereabouts of every woman captured by the Collective. If they disappeared, so would Rachel's chances of ever finding out who had Kitty.

She started to panic. "Stop!" She screamed.

All of a sudden, Ms. Steffans froze. Fear was on her face.

"How did you do that?" growled Ms. Steffan.

Rachel didn't know, but she didn't have time to find out. She ran out of the door.

She could hear submachine guns firing throughout the compound as she ran.

In the main yard, the men of the Covenant were firing machine guns at men in dark suits who were racing into the compound. One of the members of the Patriarch went down. Rachel felt a surge of sadness and then shook off the programming.

"Rachel," She turned.

It was Ginger running towards her with a Sig Sauer P228 in her hand.

"What are you doing? We need to defend the Academy."

"I have to get to the impound."

"Baby, what are you talking about? Constance wants us back at the Academy. We have to secure it until she can erase all of the files."

Rachel punched her in the face. Rachel's training had done her well, and Ginger went down unconscious. Rachel took her pistol and snuck into the building. She hoped Ginger would be okay; the girl had always been kind to her.

The files were in the building somewhere on a computer. Rachel ran past a couple of girls sobbing on the ground and up some stairs.

There was a guard at the end of the hall. He started to ask her what she was doing there when she shot him. She was surprised when she did it. The pheromones were supposed to not allow her to do that. What was wrong with her?

She ran into the room. There was the database with all the files on it. She ran up and began to scan.

"Don't move. I have a gun on you."

She heard the voice behind her. For a second, she thought about going for her gun.

"Stop that thought right there. You'd never make it."

"Turn around." She could feel something pulling at her mind. Feeling a strange urge to obey the man, she turned.

It was one of the intruders, a man in a dark suit and glasses.

"Listen," She said. "I have information that can help you, but first, I need to check the computers. I have to find my friend."

"Amazing." Said the man, "You have latent psychic powers. I can actually see your mind psychically repairing the genetic changes in your code."

"I don't know what you're talking about. But they are going to attack the president. I can tell you everything, but you need to help me find my friend."

The man put down his gun. "Who is going to attack the president?"

"His college aged daughters. Sandi and Sara Boyle."

******

Rachel was outside wrapped in a blanket. After she had confessed to the man, he quickly brought in a woman named Miranda, who seemed to be in charge. They talked a little about Rachel's psychic abilities, but their main concern was the threat against the president. Soon they had both left by helicopter leaving her at the facility.

Rachel watched as Mistress Constance and the girls were handcuffed and taken away. Ginger glared at her with hatred. The other girls looked on with shock and sadness. Most of the men were dead or escaped. She was alone.

An Indian woman, in a business suit, walked up to her. "Hello, my name is Nurse Nala. I work for Miranda. You must be Rachel. "

Nala looked down at the young adult girl with concern. "I've found the location of the girl you were looking for. She is in Dubai, sold to an oil sheik."

"Really." Rachel was struck with sadness. Nala pulled her close for a hug. "Don't worry. We will get her back for you. But I want to talk to you about something. How would you feel about joining our organization as an agent and fighting the people who did this to you?"

The military helicopter raced across the Virginia landscape, its belly barely passing over the tree line, on its way to Washington, DC.

Jaren stared out the window at the blurred landscape flying by. Through the headphones, he could hear the radio screeching as the pilot cleared the way for the helicopter to land at the White House. Miranda had made contact with an Omega agent working inside and was having him change protocol so they would have access to the building. However, the agent wasn't high enough in the chain of command to get them to the President. Jaren and Miranda were going to have to use their psychic powers for that.

"You're telling me that we don't have psychic or chemical scanners inside the White House," Jaren yelled into the intercom.

"We couldn't risk having the Secret Service aware of our presence," Said Miranda, "I was able to put in a mole in the staff, but we never could get psychic or pheromone scanners into the building. Listen."

She handed him a tablet with a schematic of the White House interior. "We have clearance to land and get in through the press access, but beyond there, we are officially breaking into the White House, and probably committing treason as well."

"Right now, the president is in the Oval Office with his daughters. He's asked to not be disturbed. The secret service agent guarding the door is assigned to the daughters, so we have to assume that she's been indoctrinated and needs to be subdued as well."

"Understood." Said Jaren.

The helicopter swooped over the iron gates and banked to land on the White House lawn. There was a metallic chunk as the side doors slid apart, and Jaren and Miranda leaped out of the roaring machine.

Racing to the press entrance, the air whipping about, made Jaren's heart beat hard in his chest. An agent was waiting for them at the gate with key cards. "The president has been alone with his daughters for the last thirty minutes," said the agent. "No one suspects anything is going wrong."

Miranda turned towards Jaren. "We need to make sure that you're not reported on camera, I am going to find the surveillance room and mind-lock the operators. You'll need to get to the president and get him away from his daughters. You'll need at least a twenty-foot perimeter around you, where no one can see. Do you think you can do that?"

Jaren nodded; He had trained for this scenario. Jaren slipped his mental net out, a thousand silver strands disentangled from his body, and spread through walls to latch onto Secret Service Agents and office workers.

Jaren began to move slowly through the building. His mental concentration spread to the max, forcing his movements to be slow and meticulous. Walking and directing himself was at the periphery of his consciousness. He was wholly focused on finding and mentally connecting with the myriad of people around him and then scrubbing himself from their short-term memories.

Slowly, he passed through the building, the white house staff oblivious to his presence, and headed for the stairwell that was on the schematic.

Jaren moved up to the second floor and took a break inside an empty cabinet room. He was mentally exhausted. Persuading someone subconsciously was a reasonably straightforward affair, but making their brains mentally unaware of you was far more complicated. As the number of people increased, the difficulty increased exponentially.

Miranda radioed him." I'm watching you through the surveillance crew's eyes. You are all clear. Only two more hallways, and you'll be outside the president's quarters."

Jaren slowly inched across the hallway.

Jaren used the tactical mirror to look around the corner. The rogue secret service agent, a beautiful statuesque black woman, stood at attention outside the bedroom. Miranda whispered in Josh's ear, "We only have one chance at this if we can't take her out quietly, then who knows what President Robert Boyle's daughters have been trained to do."

Jaren reached outward with his mind, slowly penetrating the agent's consciousness, and was blocked by a dark mental shield. Like the other girls captured by the collective, the pheromone controls had modified their brain to be shielded from psychic control. Jaren would have to slowly inch his way in through the back door.

Suddenly, his earpiece squealed. "Jaren, the secret service was sending their signal to an off-site location. They've seen you. There's an assault team coming in behind you ETA five minutes."

Suddenly, the African-American agent put her head to her ear and listened to a message on her earphone. Jaren had to work fast. He built up all of his psychic energy into one massive ball and flung it at the agent. It was everything that he had in him.

The blast knocked the agent backward and her eye rolled into the back of her head as she fell to the floor.

Jaren knew that he was too exhausted to use his mental powers. Finally, just like in the beginning, he had to rely on his training as an FBI agent. He ran towards the door.

Jaren burst into the oval office. The executive desk was cleared of everything but the president's twin daughters. One was on her back, her legs in the air kicking, her knee-highs still on. The president was between her legs, fucking her madly while holding onto her ankles. The other daughter had her pussy planted on her sister's face and was grounding herself against her tongue. She had a hold of her father's tie and was pulling him towards her and tongue fucking his mouth.

Josh didn't have much time. Who knew what the girls were trained to do if discovered? He sprinted across the oval office, and vaulted across the table, tackling the nineteen year-old girl, landing on the other side in a pile of flailing naked appendages.

A bony white hand flashed out, trying to break Josh's nose. He ducked at the last minute, the blow glancing off his cheek with surprising force, and grabbed the girl by the wrists. Suddenly another pair of arms were around his neck, blocking his windpipe, and snarling teeth, the sound of a she-bitch, was snapping at his ears.

He swung out, blind, and somehow connected. There were a crack and a whimper that could have been the president or his daughters at this point. Jaren could hear loud shouts, and Miranda's voice calling out as black spots bounced around in front of his eyes. He clawed at the surprisingly strong youthful arms around his neck.

Jaren woke up to a nice pair of breasts, almond-toned, popping out of a white blouse. He looked up to Nurse Nala, smiling down at him, her warm dark face filled with concern.

"Good, you're up." She smiled.

Jaren was lying against the wall of the Oval Office. He looked past Nala and saw the two adult blonds, cuffed, and lying on their stomachs. The president was sitting in his chair, clothed but still disheveled, and Miranda was sitting in front of him, whispering. Jaren could see a white line of energy passing through her to him.

"Yeah," said Nala, "the cat is out of the bag now. She's not controlling him, but it's easier if she just mentally uploads an explanation into his head rather than explain."

"What about the president's daughters?"

"I guess they were trained to blackmail the president. It was a good thing you stopped them. If they were to be discovered, their next task was to kill their father. Congratulations Jaren, you just saved that president's life."

Nala looked at the president's daughters, they mewed and squirmed across the eagle-adorned blue carpet. "It is a shame about the president's family. We haven't been able to reverse the effect of the pheromone conditioning. The girls will be nymphomaniacs for life."

"What will we do with them?"

"Omega force has started a girl's boarding school as a front to keep all of the girls until we figure out what to do with them. I guess they will have to live there. The president will have to visit them, of course. To keep them from going insane."

"He's going to have to fuck them again, isn't he, or they'll die."

Nala smiled. "Don't be too judgmental. I've heard what you've done with your wife. Speaking of which, you should introduce us." Nurse Nala reached up and squeezed her breast.

Jaren smiled weakly. "I guess we'll have to have you over for dinner."

******

Kitty awoke to a softly rocking yacht, the hum of its engine vibrating through the wood-paneled floor and her soft bed of blankets and pillows on the floor.

As Kitty, naked except for her red collar and ears, arched her back up off the floor, the bell on her collar rung softly. She crawled on hands and knees across the floor with her tail siding behind her. Kitty ignored the faux fur tail hanging from the anal plug inserted inside of her. It was a part of her now.

Three months of being the Saudi prince's personal pet, and Kitty intelligence had regressed to that of a domesticated animal. She was rendered dumb, unable to speak, and, in her head, referred to herself only as Kitty.

Kitty lowered her head to the bowl and lapped up the cream with her tongue. It never even occurred to her to use her hands to drink.

There was a quiet "fewwt" and a dull thud as something hit the floor outside the main cabin. Kitty looked up in alarm. The Prince's men generally guarded the cabin door. The door slowly opened, and a small woman in a dark burka stepped through. Behind her, the guard was slumped to the ground with a dart in his neck. Kitty hissed at her.

The woman pulled the shawl up over her head. A cascade of auburn hair fell out. Somewhere in the back of Kitty's mind, she recognized the face like that of a long-lost friend and lover. Heat rose inside Kitty's body. Rachel.

Rachel kneeled and took Kitty's face in her hand. "Baby, what did they do to you?"

Kitty mewed and began to lick her lap at her palm.

"Don't worry, Kitty. I am getting you out of here. You are going to be my pet now." Kitty lifted herself resting her hands on Rachel's body. Rachel caressed her small breasts and leaned in to kiss her.

******

Rosenda was bending over, wearing only heels, pearls, and an apron to pull out a smoked ham when Jaren stepped through the door. When she heard the door shut, and his voice calling for her, she squealed and ran ungainly through the kitchen into the living room and launched herself into his arms. Jaren rocked backward and dropped a package he was holding on the ground.

"Ooh, a present," thought Rosenda.

She arched her head back and pulled him in for a deep kiss, while his hands slid down to squeeze her ass. It was only when she finished that she noticed that Jaren brought company, a sheepish-looking brunette in a silvery blouse and suit pants.

"More presents!" Rosenda thought.

While holding on to her husband, Rosenda coyly looked at the woman as if she was fresh meat. The woman was in her thirties and in excellent shape. From her slim athletic figure and long auburn hair, Rosenda recognized her as Jaren's old partner from the FBI, Gina Francis.