Mark's Mutation - Cover

Mark's Mutation

Copyright© 2006 by JoeStag

Chapter 1

Mind Control Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Mark Garner is a thirteen year old runaway. Alone and escaping his past, Mark struggles to understand the nature of his genetic mutation, which causes women to become obsessed with him upon touching his skin. WARNING: Check the CODES. If you don't agree with certain codes, please don't read any further. I'm getting comments from a few who dont like certain aspects of the story and are demanding that I change it.

Caution: This Mind Control Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/Fa   Fa/ft   girl   Mult   Teenagers   Lolita   Reluctant   Mind Control   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Cheating   Slut Wife   Wimp Husband   Incest   Mother   Daughter   MaleDom   FemaleDom   Spanking   Rough   Swinging   Group Sex   Harem   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Sex Toys   Squirting   Water Sports   Voyeurism   Foot Fetish  

I saw the flashing lights of the patrol car come up behind me, and I got a little nervous as I walked along the side of the road on my way to nowhere. Hearing the car slow down, I didn't really know what to do. So I just kept walking along the curb with my hands in my pocket.

I knew the car had stopped right before my heels. A car door slam later and I heard the distinct sounds of feet walking towards me.

I slowed my steps but didn't turn around. That was until she shined a flashlight on my back and shouted, "Hey you, kid!"

Carefully I turned around and saw the bobbing flashlight come towards me. It blinded me and I could only make out the silhouette of the police officer. I already knew from the sound of the voice that the officer was female. My nerves already began to crawl, given my... condition.

My curse... my mutation.

Females were not safe around me. I knew this now.

As she approached she tilted the flashlight a little bit and I could start to see her shape. She was kind of short, maybe a few inches taller than me. Her uniform didn't do her much justice because up top she looked to be wearing a bulletproof vest under her shirt.

When I could finally focus my eyes her face started to come into view. Her skin was naturally tan, possibly Latino. Very beautiful but with an attitude. Those pretty, narrow slits for eyes told you that she wasn't someone you wanted to piss off. Her ethnicity was only confirmed when she spoke to me. Probably Mexican or some South American country she immigrated from years ago. Maybe her parents moved here when she was very young. Her English was excellent, so I guessed the latter.

"Whatcha doin' out here at this hour kid? Do you have any idea what time it is?" She asked me as though she were my mother wondering why I was late getting home from a friend's house.

Her dark hair was pulled back into an unattractive bun near the nape of her neck. She looked to be in her mid to late twenties. I couldn't help but wonder what she looked like without all the cop gear. With her hair down and a tight shirt she was probably a knockout.

She raised an eyebrow at me as she examined what I was wearing. A long sleeve green shirt, and black gloves. The only skin showing was my face.

"Ain't it a bit warm out for gloves?" She asked plainly.

The name pin on her lapel said Vasquez. "Actually, you're right. But I have to keep these gloves on for your protection."

She squinted at me cautiously. I took note how her other hand was poised over her holster. It must've been a cop reflex because I certainly wasn't that threatening to her.

"Protection from what? Are you getting ready to knock over a convenient store or somethin'?"

"No it's not that. It's just..." I was weary about telling the Officer anything. I didn't want her to think I was a nut job and haul me away to the Looney bin. I said, "... It's just, when people touch my skin... lets just say, bad things happen."

Officer Vasquez's face scrunched up. I noticed how her dark full lips looked beautiful even when she was disgusted. "You don't got one of those fungal things, do ya? I don't want to pass anything contagious over to my daughter!"

"No, no. It's nothing like that." I started to explain when she cut me off.

"What's your name kid?"

"Mark. Mark Garner."

"How old are you Mark?"

"Thirteen."

"Do your parents know that you roam around the streets at night Mr. Garner?"

"I haven't seen my parents in over a month." Oops. Wrong thing to say to a cop when you're a minor out on the streets by yourself. I could feel Officer Vasquez staring a hole through me.

"Then whom are you staying with then?" She asked me concerned.

I closed my eyes. I've already spilled too much. There was no way she was going to just let me go now. I swallowed hard and decided to fold. It was useless now. No amount of excuses would help me now.

I just bowed my head. "Nobody. I've been taking care of myself for the past month."

"You mean to tell me you've been livin' on your own? Alone?"

I nodded.

"Mr. Garner..." She crooked a finger at me. "You're comin with me."

She reached out to grab my arm, but my reflexes were very jumpy. I recoiled a bit. Officer Vasquez noticed my nervousness and decided to put her hand down.

She opened the passenger side of her squad car and motioned for me to get in. This confused me.

"Shouldn't I get in the backseat? You know, with the bars between us?"

Officer Vasquez laughed. It was the first time I had seen her exhibit another emotion besides frustration. Her smile caught me off guard. She was stunning when she smiled. Like it bumped her up on the attractiveness meter.

She leaned against the side of the car, her hand on her curved out hip.

"You afraid of me little man? You think I bite or som'thin?"

"No. I'm afraid for you. Maybe I should sit in the back... for your protection."

Officer Vasquez rolled her eyes. "Look at you, actin like you all that. I think I can handle a thirteen-year-old white boy. I've had training. Now get in."

"Where are we going?" I asked uncomfortably as I sat down in the front seat of the squad car and leaned back into the black leather upholstery. Officer Vasquez reached up to the radio transmitter on her left shoulder, pressed and held a button. She spoke into the radio, "Vasquez 77. I gotta code 15 out on I-40. No ID, no parental information. Request instructions, out."

Officer Vasquez simply winked at me as she shut the door. She walked around the front of the car. As she passed in front of the headlights the low beams cast shadows on the back of her thighs which appeared to be toned and athletic, and seemed to be straining against the fabric. Her rear was a sight to behold. There was a definite sway to her hips that I hadn't noticed until now, and I now was in awe of her rear as the headlights bathed them in fluorescent light.

I was jolted back to the here and now as Officer Vasquez opened the driver's side door and proceeded to get in. The dispatcher's crackling voice could be heard as she eased herself down into the seat next to me.

Dispatch, "Copy that Vasquez. Proceed to Juvenile facility Constance Home for boys. A social worker will get with him in the morning. Copy that?"

Officer Vasquez pressed her face to her left shoulder. "10-4 Dispatch. Vasquez out."

She then looked over at me and grinned as though everything was just fine.

I was outraged. I knew what was going on. All that CB-mumbo-jumbo couldn't hide the fact that she was going to dump me at some halfway house for juvenile delinquents. I had managed just fine on my own. I may be a kid, but I didn't feel young. I felt the burden of responsibility every day. My curse, as it were, kept me in line. It kept me alert. I knew how to take care of myself.

I knew how to get food, shelter, and showers. I knew how to get money when I really needed it. I had been doing it for the better part of a month now. I needed to get out of her.

Officer Vasquez hit the gas pedal and we were off down the street. A flip of a switch above her face and the flashing lights on top of the squad car turned off.

I turned to her and pleaded, "Please Officer, don't dump me in some two-bit weigh station for troublesome teens. I beg you. Just let me go. I promise I can take care of myself."

"That's not the point kid. You're just a teenager. You're not equipped to handle the streets. I found you in one of the worst parts of the city. It's just plain dumb luck that I came across you before somebody else did."

I shook my head in frustration and looked out my window. "Whatever."

"So its like that huh?"

I didn't respond. I was so upset with the situation I was in. I didn't feel like talking anymore. Especially to little miss Latino and her I know what's best for you attitude. I would've been content to just stay silent for the rest of the journey.

Officer Vasquez then asked, "So did you run away from home then?"

I puffed a little, "No. I dunno. Maybe."

She laughed again, "Well that didn't make any sense at all."

I turned to her frowning, "I did run away, but it was to protect friends and family."

"Ahh, I remember. To protect them from your skin disorder. Right. Gotcha." She made a gun with thumb and forefinger, and then made a click sound with the side of her mouth.

"You don't believe me?" I asked upset.

She looked at me sidelong. "Well kid, you haven't told me what you skin problem is yet."

"Could you stop calling me kid? I have a name. It's Mark Garner."

"Fine, Mark. What's with this problem of yours?"

"I can't tell you. You'll think I'm crazy."

"Oh I already think that."

"Thanks." I sighed and looked out the side window as we passed a bus stop.

It seemed I wasn't going to get out of this mess, so I tried to be as cordial as possible on our way to the halfway house. I decided to make conversation with Officer Vasquez.

"So what's your name?" I asked, turning to her.

"Eva."

"Eva," I repeated like a moron, "That's pretty."

"Thanks." She responded as though I just complimented her shoes.

"And you're originally from..."

She pursed her lips as though she was tired of getting this question. A deep sigh later she said, "... Mexico."

I could tell that her past was a touchy subject so decided not to push it. Instead I asked her about her job. Why she had become a cop and so forth. She said she had grown up in a neighborhood like this one. One that was run down and crime was everywhere. And after a stint in petty crime herself, she decided to change her life around after she got busted one too many times. The last time she was arrested for shoplifting, she was nineteen. The officer that took her away was Juan Vasquez. She explained that he inspired her, and they hit it off immediately. A year later they were married. Then they had a child. A little girl. They named her Pita. She was 9 now. Juan was killed in the line of duty a year ago and now Eva was alone to raise their daughter.

"So what's your story?" She asked, and I assumed she meant my past rather than my 'skin problem' as she dubbed it.

I explained briefly that I was in the 8th grade. My Mom was a housewife and mother to me, my little sister Lindsay, and my big sister Kate. Dad is a chartered bus driver, a job that takes him around the country. We're not rich by any stretch of the imagination, but we do have a little money in the bank thanks to my grandparents on my mother's side. When they died they left a nice little chunk of a nest egg for Mom. That's how my family is able to survive on just my Dad's job. My sister Kate is in college, living the best lesbian lifestyle she can with her girlfriend Piper. My little sister Lindsay is a pain in my ass. She's only 10 and thinks she's the smartest person in the world. She likes to humiliate me whenever possible by trying to make me look stupid in front of other people. After going into this brief history of my family, Officer Vasquez looked over at me.

"Your family must miss you if you've been gone for a month like you say."

I shrugged noncommittally, "Yeah, I guess. I mean... I miss them too. Its just I want to protect them from my... problem."

Officer Vasquez slapped the steering wheel. "Okay kid... sorry, I mean Mark. Lets see if we can pinpoint this problem you're having. We still have some free time before we reach the shelter. Lets see if we can't fix what ails you on the way."

My stomach started to turn, "I don't think that's a good idea Officer."

"Stop that, call me Eva. If I can't call you kid, then you cant call me Officer. My name is Eva."

"Fine Eva. I still don't think we should get into it. It's kind of embarrassing."

If she only knew how much.

She wasn't going to take 'no comment' for an answer. She wanted to help. She thought of herself as a pretty damn good listener when she wanted to be. If anything, she could just hear me out.

She said, "Look Mark, what have you got to lose. What's the worst that can happen? Nothing. Nada. I wont be able to fix anything? Fine, but at least you'll get it off your chest. Talk to me, otherwise this trip is going to be a boring one."

I threw up my hands, "Alright, alright..." a couple of deep breaths later I started in on what happened that led me to where I was at now.

I said, "The first girl I ever kissed... ended up in the emergency room and put under sedation for... well, how should I put this..." There was no delicate way to phrase it, so I just let loose, "... for masturbating herself into unconsciousness."

Officer Vasquez, or Eva now, turned her head slowly to look at me with one eyebrow raised, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"So you're that good of a kisser eh? The poor girl couldn't take it and frigged herself into oblivion? Is that about right?"

"Yes, that's what I'm saying. Not about the good kisser part, but all I can say, and don't ask me how I know this, but when her lips touched mine I felt something pass between us. Actually, it was more like I was passing something into her. I just felt it deep within me. When she made contact with me, she lost all self control and wanted nothing more than physical pleasure from me."

Eva started laughing. I knew she would. It's a pretty outrageous story. I wouldn't have believed it if I heard someone else tell it, so I don't know why I expected Eva to understand. She finally came down off her laughing high.

"So Mark. Does the lucky lass have a name?"

"Gretchen. We're in the same grade. We've been best friends for five years."

"So what happened exactly?"

"Well, the tension between us had been growing for the last year or so. She was starting to develop, and I was growing also. It seemed like every time I looked at her lately, she was becoming more and more attractive."

Eva nodded. "That's understandable. That tends to happen when you hit the teenage years. It happened for me when I was your age."

"Well anyway, Gretchen's always been the brainy type. Always getting good grades, where I would be struggling. But she was always willing to help me. She came over just about everyday anyway, and on this particular day we were both up in my room studying."

Eva interrupted, "Your parents didn't mind that you had a girl up in your room?"

"No, Mom doesn't care. It was just Gretchen. She didn't notice how we'd been getting closer."

"Oh I'm sure that's not true. Mothers always know. Trust me. I know everything my daughter is doing. Call it instinctual."

"You think so?"

"Oh yeah. Anyway, continue please."

"Yeah, so Gretchen was lying across my bed and I was on the floor with my back to the bed. My book was in my lap and Gretchen was looking down over my shoulder. We were going over Geometry. Suddenly I looked up and Gretchen's face was right there. We were practically cheek-to-cheek. She saw me looking at her and we stopped what we were doing and just stared at each other. It was really weird. I've never had a moment like that with Gretchen before. We just looked into each other's eyes. I felt my whole body tense up and knew something was going to happen, but I didn't know what. I could feel my body temperature begin to rise, and my heart began pounding in my chest."

Eva was noticeably redder, but she kept silent and listened to me finish the story.

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