NewU
Copyright© 2022 by TheNovalist
Chapter 43
Mind Control Sex Story: Chapter 43 - Pete is a normal guy. A college student, a friend, and the quintessential black sheep of his family. That all changes one rainy autumn night at the hands of an out-of-control car and a well-placed tree. Waking up in hospital, he realizes that something is different. A whole new world opens up to him. New friends, hot nurses, cities of the mind, and a butler that only he can see. But the shadowy specter of unknown enemies lurk in the background, ever watching and ever waiting.
Caution: This Mind Control Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Mind Control Romantic Heterosexual Fiction Horror Humor Mystery Restart Superhero Science Fiction Extra Sensory Perception Paranormal Magic BDSM DomSub Rough Anal Sex Cream Pie Facial Oral Sex Squirting Tit-Fucking Big Breasts Body Modification Doctor/Nurse Small Breasts Geeks Revenge Slow Violence
It had been about another hour of mindscape time before we returned to the real world; the sudden revelation, as innocently as it had been discovered, had put something of a damper on the rest of Emma’s exploration.
It would have been a lie to say that this was something that I had considered before, but now that it had been said out loud, I couldn’t help but marvel at the obviousness of it and the mental gymnastics I must have put myself through to have never considered it before.
At least one of my parents wasn’t my real parent.
Of course, there were a whole bunch of possibilities. The first was that one of them had cheated on the other, and the betrayed parent had simply tried to forgive and forget. The question was, which one? The obvious answer to that was that it was my mother, Debbie, who had cheated on my father, had the child of some random guy, and Phil had, for whatever reason, decided to stay. But there were problems with that theory.
The first was that no matter how much I despised my mother before her death, even I could see the way she looked at my father; she was completely and utterly in love with him. She had never been the abusive one of my parents. Still, she had willingly turned a blind eye to what my father had done to me and tried to force me to accept not only the insultingly transparent explanations but also forced me to lie to people like my school teachers when certain injuries couldn’t be hidden from sight. The point of saying this is to highlight the fact that Debbie never, not once, went against Phil in any way at all, not in thought, not in action, not even in sentiment. If my father did something to me, Debbie automatically supported it, simply by virtue of the fact that he had done it, and he would have had a good reason. The levels of faith and support she gave that man were absolute, so much so that under any other circumstances, I would have always considered her the benchmark for what a loving, devoted woman should look like.
The chances of her cheating on him were absurd.
Of course, there was always the possibility that she hadn’t always been like that, and the way she acted toward Phil was just overcompensating for something she had done in the past. After all, if an affair on her part had resulted in my birth, then, by definition, any action she was atoning for had taken place when I wasn’t around to witness it. Maybe those levels of love and loyalty that she epitomized really were all an act to make up for her infidelity before I was born. I couldn’t really say. I had no knowledge of who she was or what she was like before, but I found it very hard to believe that she had been any different then to how she had always been after I came along. It just didn’t seem like her.
The second option was that my father had cheated and had forced some other woman’s baby on my mother. In some ways, this seemed the more likely option. First of all, it would explain why my mother exhibited none of the maternal protective instincts with me that every other woman on earth seemed to possess. Secondly, of the two of them, Phil was easily the one who cared about the relationship the least. He did what he wanted to, and everyone else was just expected to go along with it.
But therein also lay the problem with that theory. Phil could be described as a lot of things, none of them positive, but if you were to look at him from the perspective of someone outside the family - namely someone who didn’t know about the zeal in which he tortured me during my childhood - there was one thing that stood out among all others.
Apathy.
Phil simply couldn’t muster the energy needed to care, not about anything. It was hard, sometimes, to even see that he acknowledged the fact that he had a wife, let alone imagine him summoning the enthusiasm needed to cheat on her. Then to care about a child of that fling enough to take custody of me away from his other woman? That was almost comically out of character. It simply wasn’t possible. And yes, it would have had to have been a fling, there is no conceivable way Phil Roberts could possibly give a shit about something as in depth as a full blown affair. That was simply too much like hard work. It was a bit of a contradiction when I thought about it: the fervor in which he punished me for even the slightest perceived wrong, but his total lack of enthusiasm for literally anything else in his life.
I don’t know; maybe he wasn’t always like that. Maybe he used to be ... well, not a nice guy, but perhaps a normal one, and his wife having an affair had knocked all of that out of him. Maybe I was a constant reminder of the pain my mother inflicted on him, and I was an easy target. Yet, out of the two of them, he was easily the one I would have said was more likely to cheat.
Okay, yes, the possibility that I was adopted crossed my mind, but really? That was even more absurd. Why the hell would you adopt a child just to abuse him for eighteen years, then pretend he didn’t exist for the years afterward? On top of that, I had no real understanding of the adoption process, but surely there had to be checks of some sort on the prospective parents, right? Social services involvement, background checks, follow ups; I had memories of my childhood going all the way back to when the human mind was physically capable of storing long term memories - about two years old - and I couldn’t remember anything like that ever happening. And, again, the idea that Phil adopted a baby? Even if Debbie wanted one? No, sorry, I just couldn’t see it. He was too lazy, he was too selfish, he would have immediately known that kids are hard work, and hard work was the one thing he avoided above all else.
Phil Roberts wanted a quiet life. He didn’t want power, he didn’t want fame, he didn’t want success or money or status, he wanted easy. And Debbie wanted Phil. That was it. That was the sum of their life’s ambitions, and I had never understood where I fitted into any of that. Now that it was abundantly clear that I wasn’t the biological child of one of them, I had even less of an idea of who the hell I was when it came to my family.
Those thoughts, standing outside the library in my city, had brought up a whole host of disturbingly unpleasant memories, ones that Emma - being right there with me - was subjected to whether either of us was ready for it or not. She saw it all; she didn’t quite feel what I felt, she never felt the pain I had gone through as a child, but the memories were vivid enough for it to be pretty easy for her to imagine. The hiss and the smell of my skin when Phil put a cigarette out on my arm, the sound of the crack when he broke it a few years later. The ringing in my ears when he threw a full beer can at my head, the dizziness and the fever when he had decided I was faking an illness, then the barely caught septic infection when he finally understood I wasn’t, the unbelievable cold and fatigue in my body when he had made me walk the four miles home from school in my gym clothes in the snow because I was three minutes late getting to the car when he was waiting for me. The hours I had spent on my D-Day diorama, only for Phil to step on it and destroy it on his way to get a snack from the kitchen and then the boot to the ribs on his way back because I had made a mess, then the beating I got for throwing up on the carpet from the pain and shock of a grown ass man kicking the twelve year old me in the side.
It was a vicious cycle. A memory would jump into my head, not one that I was consciously trying to remember, but it was the “don’t look down” sort of logic; the more I tried to push those memories back down, the more they would jump out at me, and Emma would experience them all with me in real time. It’s not that I didn’t want her to see them; I was happy for her to see everything, but considering the fact that she’d had a great man as a father, and he had just given his life to save hers, this was not the time for her to be exposed to all this. But my mind didn’t seem to give a shit what the rest of me wanted, and the memories kept coming, and Emma’s face fell more and more as each memory was relived in stunning, crystal-clear clarity.
“Pete, I ... I’m...” She looked up at me, her eyes filled with something that blurred the lines between pity and horror.
I took her hand and shook my head. “It’s okay. We should go. These won’t stop for a while.”
“No, I need to see this,” she tucked herself closer to me.
“Maybe, but not right now. It’s too much.”
“This is what Rhodri was talking about, wasn’t it?” She looked up at me. “When he said you seemed like you were always waiting for the next attack. It’s because you were. You’ve never known safety.”
I swallowed hard and nodded again. “Yeah, I guess he saw more than I expected him to. It’s time to go, Emma.”
She didn’t say anything; she just took one last look around my city and gave a short, resigned nod. “Okay.”
A moment later, we both emerged back in the real world, naked and holding each other after our passionate coupling a little while earlier. Emma looked up at me, then down at my body, then down at herself, then back up at me again. “We’re still naked,” she blushed. “How long were we in there?”
“You tell me,” I smiled back at her. “You should have an innate understanding of the passing of time.”
Her brow furrowed for a moment before. “About thirteen hours in the mindscape, which is...” she blinked, “ ... about twenty minutes out here? That can’t be right.”
“Time works differently in there, remember, so yeah, we’ve only been in there about twenty minutes.”
“Wow, that’s pretty cool. I can see why you’d use that to sleep.”
“Next time we go in,” I pulled her close, running my fingers through her hair. “We’ll look around your palace properly and find your office. You should have your own bed in there.”
She shook her head vigorously. “No, I don’t want to sleep in my own bed. I don’t ever want to sleep apart from you again. Can I sleep in your bed with you?”
“I...” It was my turn to frown. “I don’t know. I don’t see why not. Jeeves?”
“She is able to access all of you, Sir.” My friendly, aged butler answered almost immediately. “Including your bunker, at any time.”
“I heard him!” Emma beamed, looking up at me again. “This is so cool! I can hear your subconscious!”
“I think he said he was our subconscious,” I chuckled back at her.
“That’s even cooler!”
I rolled my eyes playfully, then leaned down to kiss her. She moaned softly as she melted into my lips, her hand coming up to rest on my cheek, holding me in place as mine kept running through her hair. “Okay, what do we do now?” she smiled up at me after we finally broke apart.
“We need to move soon,” I sighed. “We’re okay here for a little longer, but the more time we give them, the more likely they are to find us or maybe just set up some sort of cordon to stop us from leaving the area.”
She nodded. “How are you feeling? You said you needed to rest to get your energy back before we moved again. I don’t think you were asleep for very long.”
I did a quick internal check. “No, I wasn’t,” I frowned. “But I think I’m okay in terms of power. I’m not full, but I’m a lot fuller than I expected to be after such a short time. It must be you.”
“Me?”
“Yup, apparently all I needed was the love of a good woman.” I nudged her with a smile.
“Well, good, ‘cause you’ve got it.” She leaned up and pressed another kiss to my lips.
“Are you okay?” I asked as gently as I was able. “That was a lot for you to take in, in one go.”
Her smile faltered a little. “Which part?”
“All of it, I guess. Your city, my city, everything you learned ... everything you saw.”
“From when you were young?”
I nodded after a beat of silence. “Yeah, that too.”
She sighed and leaned her head back onto my shoulder. “My city is amazing. I don’t know why, but I feel like I’ve only just scratched the surface of what it all means. I suppose if I have the ability to sleep at that faster rate, I’ll have a lot more free time to explore it properly, which I can’t wait for. Your city was even better; it’s just so ... big, and strong, and powerful, and ... I don’t know. It feels like it’s been there forever, just waiting for you to find it.”
“That’s funny,” I nodded. “I thought the same thing about yours.”
“You did?”
“Mmhmm.”
“That’s interesting.” She started running her fingers over my chest. “Mine felt new to me. I wonder why we both had the same thoughts about each other’s cities but not about our own. Have you felt that way about any others?”
“No, just yours.”
“So many puzzles.” She mused for a moment. “And then there were all the things I learned from your library. God, I hope I’m able to store information like you are; that would make things so much easier.”
“Yeah, it’s useful, but there are downsides, as well.”
Her fingers froze on my chest. “Your childhood,” she nodded. “That was ... I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I don’t know what else to say. I can’t believe there are people out there who can be so cruel. I feel like such an idiot now.”
“Why?”
“Because in the office, I practically screamed at you that violence was never the answer, that you just enjoyed it, and I didn’t have the first idea how much you had been the victim of it, or how violence had basically shaped the entirety of your childhood and your formative years. No wonder you were ready for a fight at the party and when you found out about the Praetorians. You had been waiting for it for your entire life. I can see now how stupidly naive I was, thinking that just because I had a good upbringing, you must have had one as well. I’m sorry.”
I shook my head. “You don’t have to be sorry. Your parents gave you the best life they could, mine chose another direction. That’s not your fault.”
“No, but being a sheltered little princess with some very strong opinions is.”
“Have your opinions changed?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
“You had those opinions before ... well, before everything that’s happened and before you learned everything you did at my library. Do you still have those opinions now?”
“No, of course not, how could I?”
“Exactly.” I smiled. “There’s nothing wrong with thinking a certain way. You’re only in the wrong if you keep thinking those things after you learn something that should change your mind. You were misinformed, not stubbornly holding onto stupid ideas. So what about the Praetorians? Still think they can be reasoned with?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted after a moment. “I’d like to believe that some of them have been led down that path by people who know better. That they’ve had things hidden from them or have outright been lied to or manipulated into believing the things they do. Those people? Maybe they can be reasoned with. I mean, you did manage to convert a bunch of them at the compound. But the people in charge, the people who know what they’re doing? No, they need to meet Elliot.”
Who?” I scrunched up my face.
“Elliot. Haven’t you ever seen Pete’s Dragon?”
“Um, I don’t think so.”
She giggled. “It was a movie when I was a kid. Pete was a kid and he was friends with a big green dragon, and the dragon’s name was Elliot. Your name is Pete. You have a Dragon, so ... I thought the name would fit.”
There was a heartbeat of silence, then I snorted out a laugh. “Okay, that’s a good one.” I chuckled. “But, you understand what will happen when they do meet ... Elliot, right? What will happen to them? What I might need to do?”
“I do, yes.”
“And that doesn’t bother you anymore?”
She opened her mouth to answer but paused. “It’s not that the idea of killing doesn’t bother me anymore, it does, but ... I don’t know. Now I can see that if I ever want peace for our people, if there’s any hope for our survival, then you were right: it’s them or us. If they have to die for the rest of our people to live, then that’s for the Dragon to decide. If he says they do, then they do. Some people are just beyond redemption. And if anyone is stupid enough to stand in the way of you getting to them, I’d like to think you’d give them every chance you could to let them stand down, but at the end of the day, it’s their choice to take that chance or not.”
I nodded slowly. That’s what I needed to hear. As much as my bonding to Emma was quickly becoming a cornerstone of who I was, as much as I loved her, I still had a job that needed doing. Now that I had fully accepted my role as the Mantle, the option to simply give up and live the quiet life was gone. As I had said to Bob, this war was going to end, one way or another, and I would much rather have Emma’s support and understanding than have to do this alone.
“Thank you,” I whispered, the relief evident in my voice, even to me.
“Pete,” Emma said, looking up at me. “We’re in this together. You don’t have to worry about me going off on you like I did in the castle. Look at Ian; he would have killed me, he wanted to kill me, he did kill my uncle Marcella. He lied to me and to my family for years, and I saw the look on his face when he thought he’d caught us. He was happy. He was excited. People like him need to go if we are going to have any chance of surviving as a species, let alone unifying as one. I understand that now, and I understand the burden that’s been put on your shoulders, having to deal with all of that.”
I nodded again. “I appreciate that. I’m sorry about your uncle.”
“He was a good man. He used to tease me all the time when I was little,” she said with a smile. “Him and my Dad used to...” the words died on her lips. I knew what she was feeling; I didn’t need my powers or our bond for that. I pulled her in a little tighter.
“I know. I’m sorry.” I said softly, holding her naked body against mine.
“It still doesn’t feel real,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Like, logically, I know he’s gone, but the rest of me refuses to believe it. I’m still expecting to get back home, the castle still in one piece, Mum and Dad waiting for me, Jamie, Raj, all the others, still alive and well, Uncle Marcella tapping his watch at me; you know, everything the way I left it. I know that isn’t going to happen, but ... I don’t know. Sometimes, it just hits me, and the pain is overwhelming, but other times, like now, it’s still there, but it’s as if it’s in the background. Just waiting to jump out at me.”
I nodded again, just letting her talk. I knew that sort of pain all too well, but hers was so much worse than anything I had felt before. The only silver lining for her, one that I had never had, was that she could never argue that any of it was her own fault. I’d had no such luxury; all the deaths that had occurred around me had been directly tied to the fact that they were in my life. If they hadn’t been, they would probably still be alive and well, too.
It wasn’t much of a mercy, but it was something, and I was grateful that she had at least that.
“You said it’ll never get better, didn’t you?” She asked after a while.
I shook my head. “It’ll never really go away,” I answered honestly after a pause of my own. “It’s more like it gets easier to handle. I’m here, though. If you ever need to talk, or vent, or just ... let it out, I’m here.”
“I know,” she said. I could feel her cheek move with her soft smile against my shoulder. “You don’t know what that means to me. You really are my rock. Thank you.”
I smiled and nodded, letting her lay there in silence for a little while, letting her process some tiny fraction of all the things that had happened to her in the last day, before I spoke again. “Your Dad said we needed to meet him at the place you vacationed when you were six, we have to assume your mother is headed there too. If we’re going to link up with her again, we need to know which direction we need to head in.”
She huffed out a short laugh. “Yeah, that was always my favorite. Mykonos, one of the Greek Islands. I always wanted to go back there.”
“Well, I guess you’re getting your chance now,” I smiled before turning my attention inwards. “Jeeves?”
“You would need to get to an airport, Sir, and the one you arrived at is almost certainly being watched. I would recommend you make your way to the nearest international airport and blend in with the crowd. A plane to Mykanos would be fairly simple from there.”
“Sounds simple enough. Where’s the nearest airport?”
“Salzburg, just over the border in Austria.”
“Hmmm, what about passports and stuff?”
“I’m sure a man of your particular talents could conjure up something appropriate, Sir.”
I rolled my eyes but chuckled. “Okay, looks like we’re headed to Slazburg first to get a flight.”
“But how?” Emma asked with a frown, looking up at me. “We don’t have any money or anything to get there.”
“Leave that with me. I can get us there.”
Her frown deepened. “You’re not going to steal money, are you? You’ve managed to convince me that you may have to be violent sometimes, but stealing some normal person’s car or robbing them blind is not something I’m okay with.”
“Hmm, how do you feel about banks?”
“I hate them.”
“Then we won’t have a problem.”
“You’re going to rob a bank?”
“Not in the way you mean,” I laughed. “I just convinced my bank that my account has a bottomless amount in it. I can spend what I want and nobody would ever notice.”
Emma seemed to think about that for a moment before she shrugged. “Yeah, that works. Corrupt bastards deserve it,” she grinned up at me. “That means we’re going to have to get up, though, doesn’t it?”
“‘Fraid so,” I smiled.
She groaned loudly but pulled herself up into a sitting position. I moaned just as loudly as I got another good look at her perfectly hanging chest. She looked down at the object of my focus, turned to face me a little more, gave one of them a firm squeeze, and purred at me. “They’re all yours. Just like the rest of me.”
Okay, even I can admit that we got lucky.
By the time we had gotten dressed—which, in itself, took a lot longer than strictly necessary because of all the looks we were giving each other, not to mention the many occasions we succumbed to temptation to have a good caress of each other—and then climbed out of the cave and back to the surface, night was well and truly upon us. The day that had been so gloriously sunny, cloudless, and with a gentle breeze from the east, had turned quite miserable over the course of our time in the cave. The cloud cover blotted out the moon, which significantly hindered the natural ambient light levels on the mountainside when we finally stepped out of the cave’s entrance.
The Praetorians were everywhere on the mountain, moving in groups of three or four, but with the darkness from the clouds, it meant that all of them were searching by torchlight and hence could be spotted from a literal mile away. Despite how many of them there were, none of them were particularly close to us, nor were they close enough together to stop us from slipping between their patrols with next to no effort. It was more a matter of knowledge and skill than luck that Emma knew precisely where we were on the mountain and how to get to the nearest road, but more impressive was that she was able to navigate us around that particular road - which turned out to be pretty heavily guarded - and to a little dirt track that the Praetorians didn’t seem to know existed.
In just a few hours of careful, quiet walking, she managed to lead us off the mountain without so much as a hiccup. I’d been all for fighting our way down; there was still a large part of me that wanted every last one of those fuckers to pay for the audacity of hunting us. But Emma only had to give me one look to rein that impulse in. She understood how I felt—hell, after the day we’d had, she had every reason to want to obliterate them too—but slipping away undetected gave us the best shot at getting out for good.
It took us about two hours to get off the mountain and another two to reach the nearest town—far enough from the castle ruins to finally exhale the breaths we’d been holding. And, in a rare break from tradition, things just kept going our way.
The sun was already rising by the time we hit town, and with it came signs of life. Shops opened, shutters rolled up, and lights flicked on. That meant one thing: breakfast. A small diner just off Main Street gave us hot food and coffee- well, coffee for Emma, I just had a coke. Even better, the local car hire dealership—the one that usually catered to ski tourists—was open too.
One quick stop later, and we were on the road in a sleek, top-end SUV. Some forged paperwork, a few mysteriously malfunctioning cameras, a small dent to my bottomless, untraceable bank account, and a helpful attendant with a sudden case of selective amnesia ensured that nobody would remember we’d ever been there.
After that, the miles seemed to melt away with the rising of the sun. It only took another ninety minutes to get to the border town of Bad Reichenhall and only another forty-five minutes longer to finally cross the border into Austria. The border guard at the checkpoint, as far as he and his computer were concerned, had nodded through a perfectly normal looking vehicle, with a perfectly normal couple inside, about twenty seconds before a random computer glitch caused all evidence of it, and us, to mysteriously vanish, along with the guard’s memory of it. There were no actual passport checks, fortunately, I’m not sure how I would have managed if there wereThere was no force on earth that would ever be able to have tracked that SUV from any point since we had picked it up. In fact, the GPS low-jack on the car was currently showing it bouncing between locations in Mumbai, Sydney, and Northern Florida, seemingly at random, every few seconds.
Thirty miles of Austrian highway later, we were pulling into the main entrance of Salzburg International Airport. We returned the car to the airport branch of the rental company, along with a computer glitch that made their systems think it had been there the whole time, walked to the ticket desk, and booked the next flight to where we needed to go. Same routine as we had used to cross the Austrian-German border, and we were away. There was a bit of a wait in the departure lounge, but fourteen and a half hours after we stepped out of that cave, we were boarding a flight to the Aegean Sea and the stunning island gem of Mykonos.
Throughout that whole fourteen hours, our conversation swung between easy chats and comfortable silences. We both had a lot to process, Emma more so than me, but both of us seemed perfectly content to just be in each other’s company while we sat with our thoughts. At other times, we just played games to pass the time. For the entire car journey to Salzburg, we played a game by trying to make a swear word, or the closest thing to an insult, out of the letters we saw on other cars’ number plates, or tried to see how many other countries’ nationalities were represented by the passing traffic. Sure, it was fun, it passed the time, and it let us get to know each other a little better without delving back into the deep stuff, but what surprised me most of all was just how easy it all was. I’d known Emma for a little over two days; a good chunk of that first day was spent with us hating each other, then fighting for our lives at the castle, so as far as our relationship and our friendship was concerned, we had been together for less than twenty-four hours, and yet it felt like we’d known each other forever. Not months, not years, forever. Today didn’t feel like the beginning; it didn’t feel like the start of something beautiful; it felt like just another day that we were together, one that had already happened countless times before and one that would happen countless more times in the future. I had no idea what made me feel that way, but it was marrow deep. Whatever it was, I liked it. No, I didn’t just like it; I loved it. I loved how I felt around her; I loved how easy it was to be myself around her; I loved how comfortable we felt around each other. I loved the easy way her hand slipped into mine or mine rested on the small of her back. Sure, there was some sexual tension in the air, and I wanted to rip her clothes off and ravish her at every opportunity we had, but what made it real, what made it more, was the fact that the tension was very much secondary to everything else we were both feeling.
But my favorite part of that whole time, by far, was the moment she rested her head on my shoulder as the plane leveled off, closed her eyes, fell asleep, and crawled into my bed - no, our bed - in my bunker and pulled me in with her. As well as I had slept in that bed for every night I had used it, that was the best night’s sleep I could ever remember having.
The flight itself was short, only about two hours, but - with Emma’s presence right next to me - that was apparently all I needed to completely replenish the last of my energy reserves and top myself up back to full.