Second That Emotion
Chapter 38

Copyright© 2006 by Latikia

Mind Control Sex Story: Chapter 38 - A young boy discovers he has empathic abilities. How will this gift/curse affect his life? Story code note: Slavery is not a significant part of this story.

Caution: This Mind Control Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Ma/ft   Mult   Consensual   Mind Control   Slavery   Heterosexual   Science Fiction   Extra Sensory Perception   Incest   Brother   Sister   Spanking   Torture   Harem   Violence  

As we followed Charlie thru the entryway I checked out the décor. It wasn't so much Hammer Horror chic' as it was Sunset Boulevard noir. The huge sweeping staircase before us reminded me of a tongue sticking obscenely out of a widely grinning maw. Neither Christopher Lee nor Gloria Swanson would have looked out of place sweeping down that elevated expanse of crimson carpet.

"Jeez, Charlie... where's the butler and all the maids?" Peggy asked.

Charlie grinned. "Probably hiding from Mama, if they know what's good for them."

"Charlene!" a booming, cold, harsh voice echoed thru the large room, seeming to come from all directions at the same time.

From out of the shadows at the top of the stairs emerged a tall, iron gray haired woman, her pinched features set in an expression of extreme displeasure. I could see shades of the beauty that had once been hers and which she had passed on to her daughters, but that beauty had long since faded into harsh lines, wrinkles and a sallow complexion. She moved along with a slow, stately grace that reminded me of a float in the Rose Parade, not so much walking as gliding or rolling along. And she did sweep down the stairs like Gloria Swanson.

"Hello, Mama." Charlie said, no hint of warmth or affection in her voice. "I've invited some friends of mine over for dinner."

The woman stopped on the third step from the bottom and cast a lemony eye over the four of us, coming to rest on me last of all.

Her face went from displeasure to outright hatred in the blink of an eye.

"How dare you bring this... this creature into my home!" she demanded. "I told the Sheriff to lock you up!"

I let a soft smile form on my lips, never allowing it to reach my eyes.

Charlie watched us stare at one another, and the lovely grin she'd shown Peggy got even bigger.

"The Sheriff decided that it wasn't in his best interest to try and arrest a Federal Marshall." she told her mother.

Mrs. Van Luten glared daggers at me then snapped her scornful gaze back to her daughter.

"You have no right to bring this man here. You knew I would not approve."

"Of course I knew. That's why I insisted they come with me. I wanted you and Daddy to meet your son-in-law."

"Get them out now!" she demanded.

"No. They are my guests, and this is still my home, so I'll invite whomever I like. Where's Daddy?"

"In the dining room." she said gratingly and swept past us.

Charlie smirked and waved her hand indicating we should follow along. We all trailed along in the wake of her mother into the bowels of their home. We emerged from the dim hall into a badly lit room filled by an enormous wooden dining table surrounded by tall straight backed chairs. On the table were four multi armed candelabras, the five candles in each one were lit and filled the room with smoke and the scent of bee's wax. At the far end of the table sat a hunched man in a wheelchair.

He looked to be in his early fifties, and from the width of his shoulders he'd once been a powerful physical specimen. His full head of dark brown hair was white at the temples and the full mustache on his upper lip was shot thru with white hairs.

Mrs. Van Luten floated down along the wall and took up a position next to the man.

Charlie led us down the length of the table until we were only a few feet from the pair.

"Hello, Daddy. How are you feeling this evening?" she asked. There was much more feeling in her words to her father.

The man lifted his head and looked towards her; his eyes were damp and cloudy.

"Charlie? Where have you been all day?" His voice was deep and strong.

"I went to visit Carlie and I ran into some people there that I'd like you to meet."

Squinting slightly, he looked past Charlie and took notice of the four of us standing behind his daughter.

Charlie stepped to one side. "My parents, Gustav and Margaret Van Luten." she said. "Mama, Daddy... this is Peggy, and Lilly, Izzy... and this, this is Ike Blacktower."

"Ike Blacktower?" Mr. Van Luten muttered. "I know that name, don't I?"

"Yes Daddy. Ike was Carlie's husband."

His features quickly changed from confused to angry. His big gnarled hands gripped the arms of the wheelchair and the large shoulder muscles bunched as he shoved himself up out of the device and stood upright.

The man was stooped and hunched, but he was still taller than I was by a couple of inches. In his prime he'd have been a monster, probably six seven or eight and would have easily weighed close to three hundred pounds.

"You killed my little girl, you sonofabitch!" he growled and clenched his hands into fists.

"No, Mr. Van Luten. I was with her when she died, but I didn't kill her." I said, speaking for the first time.

"You were supposed to protect her!"

"Mr. Van Luten, you know better than that. Carlie was a strong willed, independent woman. You and your wife couldn't make her do what you wanted, what makes you think I could have made her do anything she didn't want to? Carlie shared her life with me... she didn't give it to me."

The fire in his eyes dimmed slightly and his posture relaxed.

"She always was a feisty little thing. Fought against my authority... against me every single day of her life." He murmured fondly.

"She was an ungrateful little trollop is what she was!" Mrs. Van Luten spat out angrily.

"I'd suggest you watch your tongue, lady." I growled at her, menace spilled out of me and began filling the room.

Her already pinched and pale face went even paler and she clamped her mouth shut and moved behind her husband. He was watching me carefully, but his large fists opened and I thought I saw a flash of admiration cross his face.

"You loved my little girl?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Why did she die? The police never would give us anything resembling a straight answer. Can you tell me?"

I blinked slowly and then nodded my head. "Yes, I can tell you. The answer won't make your pain go away; in fact it might make things worse."

"I'd like to know anyway." he said. "Please, sit down, all of you."

I pulled out a chair and waited for the girls to take their seats before sitting. Mr. Van Luten eased himself back into his wheelchair and Mrs. Van Luten pushed him closer to the table and then took a seat on his right.

I explained what had happened that day, from the time Carlie had left the house until I blacked out on the roadside, leaving out my having linked with her. I didn't figure they needed to know.

"The police had this Lattimor person in custody and they let him go?" he gasped.

I told him what the cop on the phone had told me, that a rookie had screwed up the booking and Harve had been released due to a technicality.

"They never told me this. I was told the man had vanished and couldn't be found... that he'd probably fled into Mexico."

"Oh, he vanished alright. How do you think I found out what happened? Harve told me. I just had to ask several times and use a little force to get the story from him. He didn't really want to talk."

"And what did he tell you?" Mrs. Van Luten demanded.

I told her what Harve had told me. Tears formed in her eyes and she turned her head away. Mr. Van Luten was livid, his hands clutching the arm rests of his wheelchair. Charlie's face was ashen. Even my girls, who'd already heard the story before, were upset.

Mr. Van Luten glared across the space between us. "And then... ?"

I shrugged. "I killed him."

"That's it? You killed him?"

I fixed my eyes on his and matched his glare with one of my own. "How strong is your stomach, Mr. Van Luten? Do you want your wife and daughter to have those images burned into their memories? I don't want my girls hearing the details. Suffice it to say that he suffered. Not as much as he should have, or as much as he deserved, but as much as I could manage under the circumstances."

He nodded his acceptance. "I think we may have badly misjudged you, young man."

"Mr. Van Luten, you judged and convicted without ever getting to know me. You automatically assumed that I wasn't good enough for your daughter. I have no idea what you would consider 'good enough', but you assumed that whoever she picked would be chosen solely to piss you off. You misjudged Carlie and dismissed me out of hand."

"We thought you married our daughter for her money." Mrs. Van Luten said, a tad defensively I thought.

"I'm aware of that. Carlie knew it too. She didn't appreciate that her parents had so little regard for her ability to make her own decisions. You shut her out because she insisted on living her life her way and not yours. And when she died you brought her back here and turned her memory into some kind of shrine to assuage your guilt. Then, to top it all off, you went and started treating Charlie like an afterthought. So she grows up hating the sister she'd once loved and admired, resenting the way you belittle, degrade and ignore her to the point where just the mention of her sister's name causes her to break out into hysterical laughter. You owe your apologies to her, not me. All you ever did to me was threaten to have me killed."

"You're a hard nosed, blunt speaking, opinionated bastard, aren't you?" Van Luten said crossly.

"I've had a few lousy years. There always seems to be some shit-head who wants to arrest, kidnap, stab, shoot or kill me or someone I love. Those sorts of things aren't likely to make a fella mellow or easygoing."

"No, I suppose not. But that doesn't give you any right to come into my house and criticize how I live my life or raise my children."

"As much right as you or your wife had to threaten my life back then or try to have the local sheriff arrest me today on some trumped up charge. You figured you had the power and that was all the right you needed. You shouldn't be surprised when other folks take the same view of things."

"I can still bring him back here and have you hauled away... Federal Marshall or not."

I stood up and removed my coat, letting Van Luten and his wife see the twin pistols hanging under my arms before sitting back down.

"Bring him back. Bring the entire Dover sheriff's department if you like. I'm not really a Federal Marshall. The ID I showed him earlier is forged."

"Where did you get forged Federal ID?"

"The CIA made them for me a few days ago."

Mr. Van Luten gave me an appraising look. "And just why would they do that?"

I gave him a grim smile. "I've been working for the Director of Internal Security for the past month, hunting for security leaks and espionage agents. In the course of my work I discovered a conspiracy between a Senator, a Congressman and the Director of the CIA. They learned about my investigation and tried to kidnap and kill me. In order to present my findings and elicit confessions from the two members of Congress I had to pose as a Federal Marshall."

 
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