Horror ** A BATTLE OF MINDS SERIES (Horror + Erotica) ** - Completed

[Sr. Diablo]

A BATTLE OF MINDS (Horror + Erotica)​

The following story takes place in a fictional small town in Eastern Germany, sometime in the late 1990s. Due to the German school system of that time (starting relatively late, and leading until 13th grade for those who want to attend university), most students were 18 or older during their last two years of school. This is also the case for all school students in this story.

Please forgive my mistakes, I am not a native speaker of English.

This story is fictional. Any similarities to real people or events are a coincidence.

★ INDEX ★
☟​

♡ PART - 1 ♡​

Update 01	update 02	update 03	update 04	update 05
update 06	update 07

♡ PART - 2 ♡

Update 01

update 02

update 03

update 04

update 05

♡ PART -3 ♡

Update 01

update 02

update 03

♡ PART -4 ♡​

Update 01

update 02

update 03

 

[Sr. Diablo]

Last update of Part 2, of the series is posted.

Readers let me know how you liked the part 2, i will post another part soon. Thanks keep reading

 

[Sr. Diablo]

DEAR READERS,


SOON I WAS START POSTING PART 3 OF SERIES, THE BATTLE OF SERIES.
Thanks.

 

[Sr. Diablo]

THE BATTLE OF MINDS PART - 3
UPDATE - 1​

This is the third chapter in a longer story which mainly is situated in the mind control category. This chapter, however, is posted in the non-consent category and contains also elements of incest -- please be aware of this before reading.

I recommend reading the whole story, but since this chapter is an interlude to the general story line, it can also be read by itself -- to know who the characters are, however, I will give a short summary of what has happened so far:

The story takes place in the small town of Leskow, in Eastern Germany, sometime in the late 1990s or early 2000s. During the last two years, Laura's life has been turned upside down. With the help of a mysterious locket, first her classmate Martin and later her former math teacher Mr. Seger -- believed dead by everyone -- have succeeded to control the young woman's mind and actions. While Martin was mainly concerned with his own sexual pleasures, Mr. Seger forced her to sell her body to other students. Since Laura is developing the necessary mental strength to break free of that control, Mr. Seger fears she might become a danger to him -- after all she put Martin into a coma a year earlier. Thus he arranges for Laura to be arrested.

~~~

Dark and quiet are the waters of Lake Leskow under the night sky. Reed is swaying gently in the soft breeze; little waves are cutting the moon's reflection into a million dancing pieces. Somewhere at the Western shore, the small town of Leskow is asleep, the windows of its houses dark, the streets empty. In the Grünenberger forest, reaching the lake's Southern and Eastern shores, it is quiet as well, almost every living being is asleep, hiding in trees, under shrubs, or in small caves; just an owl disturbs the silence of the summer night a few times with its cries.

Then, however, the sound of footsteps is tearing into the quiet of the night, a strange sound that doesn't seem to belong here. The sound of heavy feet, a menacing sound in a night like this, announces the approach of a dark figure making its way through the thickest part of the forest before reaching a clearing. The figure walks across it to a small bay in the South Eastern corner of the lake. Finally the figure reaches the water, and pauses for a few moments. Now, that it is unmoving, it can hardly be seen underneath the trees; a shapeless dark shadow, looking out over the water into the night.

Then, this shadow turns away again, returns into the forest, and disappears between trees and shrubs. Twigs break under the heavy feet, right by the edge of the clearing. Finally, however, the sound of the footsteps stops suddenly, and for just a few moments, the silence of the night returns.

For a few moments, all that is heard is the rustle of leafs in the wind. Then, the sound of a loud, demanding knock against a wooden door wakes up the birds all animals sleeping near the clearing.

***

"Murder, Laura?"

The sound of complete and utter disbelief still remained in police chief Stefan Rombach's voice, even though he had asked this very question an uncounted number of times throughout the past week.

"You have gone through a lot, of course... I can understand your behavior during the last months, after what has happened. Of course I don't condone it, but it is understandable, it's a phase. But... killing someone?"

On the floor there was a little stone, maybe it had stuck to someone's shoe, and had thus journeyed into the interrogation room along with the wearer of said shoe, before falling off and staying here, on the floor. Laura gave the stone a little kick with the tip of her left foot and watched it roll over the floor towards her right foot. Then she kicked it with her right foot, so it rolled back to her left one. Just very light kicks, so the movement of her legs would barely be noticeable to anyone but her.

"At least look at me, damn it!"

The words came out louder than he had intended, and two of the other police officers present in the interrogation room looked at each other, pulling up their eyebrows, concern in their eyes. The police chief stopped yelling and just stared at the girl in front of him, as if he had gotten scared by the sound of his own voice. His shoulders were hanging down, and he looked like he had aged about ten years during the last week.

A small drop of saliva landed on Laura's forehead; she felt the liquid on her skin like a small, burning spot, like acid, eating its way into her. Of course, she knew it was just a bit of spit, but it seemed to itch, grow into huge proportions, making her unable to concentrate on anything else. She was tempted to lift her hand and wipe over her forehead. However, any reaction at all to the fact that her uncle was standing in front of her and had just yelled at her seemed senseless, even dangerous. She just stared back into his face, into those eyes that had always looked at her lovingly. Now, there were deep shadows under Uncle Stefan's blue eyes, showing the exhaustion those last few days had meant for police chief Rombach.

None of the police officers in the room dared as much as breathe, while uncle and niece stared silently into each other's eyes. The whole world seemed to have stopped turning. Only the ticking of a clock disturbed the silence.

The ticking of a clock. Laura's mind searched for a link -- she knew that kind of ticking. Her head started aching, and the ticking seemed to increase in volume. She kept staring into her uncle's face, did not dare close her eyes even for a second. She felt them burn, her eyes, but she could not stop staring at him. His eyes were tired, red. Red like blood. Blood. The ticking of the clock. The pale hand behind the sofa. The ticking grew louder and louder, it seemed to make the walls of the room shake. It surrounded her; there was no way to escape that ticking sound.

Finally, the girl broke the silence.

"Please, can someone stop that clock?" she whispered.

For a few moments, the echo of her words seemed to linger in the air, mingling with the silence of the police officers and the ticking clock. Police chief Rombach's face looked down on her in disbelief. Then, slowly, his features distorted in anger.

"Are you completely out of your mind?!" he screamed. This time, the sound of his own voice did not seem to scare him, and the long-dried drop of spit on Laura's face got the company of several more. Police chief Rombach was still shouting, and Laura could not understand what he was saying -- and she was not trying, either. She was just glad that his voice was loud enough for her not to hear that horrible ticking sound anymore.

***

Mrs. Meyer opened the door to the small shop with such force, that the quaint little bronze bell, hanging inside the bakery at Leskow's main street to announce customers, started swinging wildly enough to almost do a full turn. Behind Mrs. Meyer, mercilessly pulled onwards with a red leather leash, followed Fifi, her tiny but rather round black poodle. The overweight animal was panting, apparently it had been forced to run, and on its owner's pudgy cheeks, overgrown with a fine layer of black hair, there were bright red spots. People that knew Mrs. Meyer, and in fact almost everyone in Leskow did know her, were aware that this was a clear sign of her being highly agitated. You could always tell easily what state Mrs. Meyer was in, and agitation was one of her more common states.

Mrs. Meyer had spent her whole life in Leskow, not only did almost everyone know her, but more importantly, she knew all people of the little town -- even those few that were not aware of her existence. And not only did she know everyone, but she also knew the darkest secrets about them, those that they would not even tell their closest friends. Mrs. Meyer's great talent was finding out news, and passing them on.

And she had news right now -- that was something you could tell by just one look into her shining eyes. As soon as Mrs. Meyer crossed the threshold into the bakery, she already blurted out that one sentence, with which she started any conversation:

"Have you already heard...?"

Mrs. Meyer did not wait for the young woman behind the bakery's counter to react to this question. "He has woken up!" she continued, with a triumphant expression.

The young shop clerk gaped at the older lady, her open mouth giving her expression a less than intelligent appearance. 'Her jacket does not at all go well with the color she died her hair in', she thought. Being a fashionable young woman, the shop clerk herself always made sure her clothes fit with the bright but artificial blond of her hair. Of course, the old lady in front of her had dyed her hair in such a vile purple, it was almost impossible to find appropriate clothing. As the young woman pondered this, she slowly realized that Mrs. Meyer was silent now and staring at her expectantly. Apparently she had to show some kind of reaction.

"Who?"

"That boy... the one who won the diving contest last year. Don't you know? The one that had been lying in a coma for all those months!" Mrs. Meyer said quickly. After that, she hesitated for a moment, as if to catch breath, before she added: "One whole meal bread, please. And ten bread rolls."

***

"Murder, Laura?"

The echo of that word would be etched into Laura's brain forever. The essence of all those questions that she had been asked in the last week, and the questions she was asking herself, constantly, when she was lying awake in her cell every night.

"Why did you do it? Why did you kill the Kopnickys?"

The Kopnickys. The name still made Laura's heart give a jump. Daniel's family. His face, a face she had not thought about much during her few waking moments in the last months, appeared inside her head painfully clearly. She had lost him forever. Until yesterday, she had asked herself again and again, whether she had killed him as well. The idea had been too much to bear -- but not knowing was even worse. How could she find out, though? How could she ask something like that? Yesterday, eventually, after many hours of tiresome interrogations, all of which she had met with silence, she overcame her fear.

"What about Daniel?"

The policeman she had asked pulled his eyebrows together and looked at her darkly. He had known Laura since she was a little girl, had seen her many times when she came to the police station to visit her uncle. And the whole town knew she had been going out with Daniel Kopnicky, until their sudden break-up two years ago.

"We have informed Daniel Kopnicky about what has happened. Currently he is on his way back to Germany. You will have to face him whenever your case is brought to court."

Despite everything, Laura had felt a certain relief when she heard those news, even something like happiness, if that type of feeling was still possible for her. Daniel was alive! He had not been home, not even in town. She had not killed him.

Her happiness, of course, did not last long. Now that her mind was free again, she found herself thinking of him constantly. Again and again she imagined the pain he would be feeling now, the hatred against her, and again and again the vision of the Kopnickys' living room appeared in her mind, this familiar room that was suddenly filled with the sickening smell of blood and a horrible silence that was disturbed only by the ticking of a clock. And slowly, the realization sank in: She had killed Mr. and Mrs. Kopnicky.

***

"Hey, are you even listening?"

The police chief's questions tore Laura from her thoughts. She was still sitting on the same chair, her uncle was still towering in front of her, the other three policemen were still watching her with worried expressions, and even the clock was still ticking as annoyingly as ever.

Laura could not see any changes in the little interrogation cell, and yet, something had changed. Something was not alright; something was not as it should be. Nothing was as it should be, Laura thought grimly. For the past two years, nothing had been as it should be. Her whole life was not alright anymore.

Just now, however, something was even less alright than usual. There was something in the air, it felt as if the soft breeze that had entered the interrogation cell through the tiny window just moments earlier, did not carry in fresh air, but rather made the air thicker, impenetrable somehow, giving it a different taste and quality that Laura could not quite describe, but that she knew just too well. The locket! That mysterious locket, used to control her, first by Martin, her classmate that the whole town believed to be her boyfriend, and then by her former math teacher Mr. Seger that the whole town believed to be dead -- the locket was close by. Laura could feel its presence.

Her heart started beating faster, the dread and hopelessness she had felt until now changed into panic. Had Mr. Seger come to the police station? Did he want to get her back, or force her to admit her crime, so that she would end up behind bars, and be safely out of his way?

Laura had to tread cautiously now. She could not be sure what new dangers were awaiting her. Instead of answering her uncle, the police chief, she used all power of concentration that she had to secure her mind against the influence of the locket. She had learned to fight against it, she knew she was strong, but the locket was a force to be reckoned with. One moment of carelessness would rob her of her own free will.

Nothing happened, however. The strange feeling disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared. The air felt normal again, like the locket was far away.

"Can I have something to drink?" Laura asked finally.

Police chief Romback nodded, looking tired. He left the room in person to get a glass of water for Laura. After just a few moments, he returned carrying a plastic cup. Laura lifted her hand to take her drink -- but before she could close her fingers around it, her uncle suddenly jerked forwards, and she felt something cold and wet on her chest: police chief Rombach had emptied the cup, suddenly and without warning, but quite obviously on purpose, onto her shirt.

"Hey!"

Laura glared at her uncle reproachfully. He, however, did not react or even look her into the eyes -- instead, he stared at the result of his own clumsiness: Laura's thin T-shirt, appropriate for the hot august weather outside and the stuffy air inside, was now hugging her small round breasts tightly. She was wearing a very light-colored shirt, the type that became transparent when wet. In reaction to the cold water, her nipples had stiffened and were clearly visible under the wet textile.

Uncle Stefan wore an expression like he was somewhere in a different world. His eyes were fixed onto Laura's breasts, and slowly, as if in a trance, he lifted a hand. When his fingers made contact with the wet cloth of Laura's shirt, her tongue, locked in an astonished speechlessness thus far, suddenly loosened.

"Have you gone mad?" she shrieked, unable to hide the fear in her voice.

From his lack of reaction, however, Laura suspected that her words never reached her uncle's brain. There was something dangerously familiar in his expression. The way his eyes were clouded and his features were relaxed made him seem remote, like he was not even consciously present in the room. He looked almost dreamy, as he smiled down at the wet fabric clinging to her breasts, and at his own hand, tenderly fondling one of the small orbs.

The very moment Laura realized this, though, the police chief's expression changed into one of confusion. He pulled back his hand with a sudden movement, as if it had been burned. The other police officers, who thus far had been standing by motionless, started stirring again. They looked disoriented, as if they were just waking up from a long and deep sleep.

"I am sorry, I didn't mean to do that," police chief Rombach said. "Wait, I will get you something dry to wear."

He walked towards the door. The other three police officers seemed undecided whether they should follow him or stay here, with Laura. Before the police chief had reached the door of the small room, however, he abruptly turned around and looked at his niece once more.

"Better take off that shirt, it is soaked, you will catch a cold if you sit there in wet clothing."

His voice sounded somewhat strange, different from the voice Laura was used to. She could not say, of what this difference consisted, whether it was the sound of the voice itself, or the way he pronounced the words. She just knew that this was not quite her uncle's voice.

Quickly, Laura shook her head, but police chief Rombach did not even seem to notice. He abandoned his plan of looking for a dry shirt, and instead returned to his niece. In shock, Laura realized what her uncle was about to do. She opened her mouth, searching for the right words to express her protest -- but she found she was rendered speechless, frozen to her chair in the middle of the room. Her own lack of reaction was not the locket's doing, she knew. After all, she was fully conscious of everything around her. It was fear that made her unable to defend herself.

"Help her!" the police chief ordered the other three officers.

One of them, a big-boned, elderly man with a gray moustache, reacted instantly, hurrying over to Laura. Before the girl could as much as squirm away, he had grabbed the hem of her shirt and started jerking it upwards. On his face, Laura could see the same expression as on her uncle's features -- a somewhat distant, unfocused expression, as if he was not fully there. Then, the shirt obscured her view, as he pulled it over her head.

***

For about the twentieth time, the young shop clerk looked at her watch. The first few looks had been sneaky, barely noticeable, or at least meant as such. After all, she was supposed to treat her customers well, and talkative old ladies were customers too. By now she stared at her watch in such an obvious way, though, that anyone near her was bound to notice she was losing her patience.

The only person nearby, however, was Mrs. Meyer herself, and Mrs. Meyer was much too immersed in what she was saying to pay much attention to the young woman's bored yawns. She had things to say, important things, and such a young thing could learn a lot if she just listened to her. Just now, she had started on the general deterioration of moral in today's youth -- back in her own time, young people had dressed properly, had organized friendship evenings and done activities in the local youth organization, or had helped the elderly with their shopping instead of going to parties or playing computer games, and anyway, back in the old times not everything had been bad, people had done their jobs instead of arguing about politics, and if she had any say...

The little bell on top of the bakery's door interrupted her speech, and Mrs. Meyer turned around to see a burly young man with very short hair entering the little shop. Staring at him, she fell silent, while the shop clerk obviously forgot to close her mouth again after the hearty yawn she had given just moments earlier. They both knew this young man -- they had talked about his strange awakening from a coma just minutes earlier.

Martin was somewhat paler than he had been a year ago, but rather than looking happy about his mysterious cure, his expression was just as bored as usual -- and a little distant, as if nothing truly concerned him. He did not seem to notice the shock his appearance had caused, but greeted the shop clerk in a slow, drawling voice. The words came out slightly garbled, however, as if he was tripping over his own tongue, and his voice sounded hoarse from lack of use. He sounded like someone that had not said anything in a long time. Like the order for an éclair and two doughnuts were the first words crossing his lips since he woke up from the coma.

 

[Werewolf]

You are doing a marvelous work here. Keep doing that. I haven't started reading your work right now but it's definitely on my list. And I'll soon finish this once I get free from pending works. Don't get disheartened because of less views and less comments. Even if there's a single reader, don't stop and keep writing.
(◍•ᴗ•◍)

 

[Sr. Diablo]

You are doing a marvelous work here. Keep doing that. I haven't started reading your work right now but it's definitely on my list. And I'll soon finish this once I get free from pending works. Don't get disheartened because of less views and less comments. Even if there's a single reader, don't stop and keep writing.
(◍•ᴗ•◍)

Thank you for your appreciation sir. you are always welcomed here to read and enjoy my stories. i hope to see more of you here.

 

[Sr. Diablo]

THE BATTLE OF MINDS PART - 3
UPDATE - 2 ​

The young shop clerk needed a few moments to even understand that he was speaking to her, and she needed yet longer to close her mouth and start putting the cake Martin had ordered onto paper plates. Once she was done with that, she wrapped it in colorful paper with the bakery's name and the words "fresh and tasty -- only the best at our bakery" printed onto it. After handing Martin the cake, she then fumbled with the cash register for quite a while. Her voice slightly shaky, she finally named the amount that was shown in brightly green numbers on the cash register's display:

"Two fifty."

Martin did not react. For a very short moment, it was completely and utterly silent in the small bakery, as the shop clerk waited for her money, and Martin stared down onto his feet, as if concentrating on some thought that had wandered into his mind. Then, Mrs. Meyer opened her mouth.

"Put it on my bill," she said. "The boy definitely deserves some cake after what he has gone through."

The shop clerk shrugged -- she did not care who she got the money from, as long as someone paid the cake. Miraculous awakening or not, she was most certainly not paying for it out of her own wages. If that old hag Mrs. Meyer found it worth a few Marks to have another story to tell, however, good for her.

Martin took the wrapped packages of cake and turned around without a single word of thanks. He did not even seem surprised at Mrs. Meyer's kindness. His expression was as bored as ever. The little bell above the bakery's door rang as he opened the door and then shut it behind him. Then it was quiet again in the little shop.

***

Laura struggled against the handcuffs a few times, even though she knew it was in vain. She couldn't get them off her hands; of course not. Those were real handcuffs; after all she was at a police station here. Wriggling and trying to pull her arms away from her back was little use. Just as her attempt at defending herself had been little use when the policemen bound her hands. She had scratched and bitten them, but they were much stronger than her, and never seemed to even notice her attempts to injure them. Effortlessly they pulled her arms behind her back, and cuffed her to the chair on which she was sitting.

The whole time, none of the four policemen uttered a word. Their unfocussed eyes confirmed Laura's suspicions: They were not themselves, not in their right mind. Nothing they did was out of their own free will. And for her, this meant that any resistance, as well as any attempt to reason with them, was useless. They would just go on doing whatever they had been ordered to do.

But why? Mr. Seger wanted to get rid of her, he was scared of her; that much Laura could deduct from the events of the last week. And he had succeeded, the way things seemed, she would spend more than a few years in prison. Wasn't that enough? Why did he have to go on torturing her?

She was yanked out of her musings, as she felt hands grip tightly around her breasts. Her uncle, the police chief, was standing in front of Laura, leaning towards her, cupping each of the soft globes with one of his hands, kneading them roughly. When she looked up, Laura could see right into his face. Even though he was looking back at her, his eyes seemed not to be focusing on the girl. Rather, they were staring into some unknown distance, not seeing what was right in front of him. Police chief Rombach's mouth stood open, a tiny bit of drool had appeared in one of its corners. Still, though he was not aware of what was going on, it seemed to affect him physically. Laura could hear her uncle's breath getting heavier.

Then one of his hands let go of her breast, instead cupping Laura's chin and turning her face closer towards his own with a slow but irresistible movement. Laura saw his lips approach her mouth. Underneath the thick moustache they seemed swollen and bulgy. Uncle Stefan's moustache -- Laura suddenly remembered teasing him about it a few years ago, when he first grew it. A moustache is only for old men, she used to say. The uncle's mouth by now was so close that she could not see it clearly anymore. Instead, she felt his breath on her face, smelled him.

A wave of disgust welled up inside Laura, and panicking she tried to turn away, to remove her face from his aim, to avoid the unavoidable. The firm grip on her chin tightened. Laura closed her eyes in resignation, as the pain forced her to open her mouth. Then, Uncle Stefan's lips touched hers. They were surprisingly soft and moist, and his tongue, a slimy muscle, like a slug, snaked its way past her lips. Unrelenting it searched out every corner of her mouth, ran along her teeth, swirled around and pushed aside her own tongue, forced its way towards her throat. Then Uncle Stefan's tongue retreated, and instead he sucked her tongue into his own mouth, the iron grip of his hand continuously around her chin, the other hand still on her breast, he forced her to obey. Laura believed to taste something familiar, like fried potatoes, eggs and beer maybe, when her uncle's saliva filled her mouth and ran down her throat. She felt sick.

One of the other policemen approached Laura from the back, and suddenly she felt her handcuffs being opened. Before she could enjoy that newly won freedom, however, and maybe push her uncle away, Uncle Stefan let go of her other breast and grabbed one of her hands instead, yanking it forwards. Laura's hand was pressed against the coarse material of his trousers and the cold metal of the buckle of his belt. Underneath the textile, she could feel something warm reacting to her touch -- twitching slightly, and growing. She wanted to pull away her hand, but her uncle had his hand on top of hers, pressing it mercilessly against his manhood, forcing her to rub it through the fabric of his trousers in slow circling movements.

Then, finally, he let go of her hand, and the grip around her chin loosened as well. The slug-like tongue withdrew from her mouth. Police chief Rombach straightened up, stood tall in front of his niece, looking down at her. Laura opened her eyes, tears were stinging in them, and the skin around her mouth felt sticky and irritated.

Laura's voice was hoarse as she spat out the words that she seemed to have been shouting inside her head throughout the whole ordeal -- she was not speaking to her uncle or the other policemen, but to someone who had to be somewhere out there, maybe even far away, but she was sure he would be able to hear her, somehow, even if she whispered. So she shouted not so much for the sake of being heard, but for the benefit of relieving her own frustration:

"Why? What have I done to you, Mr. Seger?"

She did not receive an answer, she had not expected one either. Instead of Mr. Seger, her uncle spoke to her again. His features were distorted as he looked down on her. In fact, the scornful look he wore made it seem more like it was her former teacher speaking to her, than her uncle. Even his voice sounded different: hard and unfriendly.

"Come on Laura, don't make such a fuss. After all you have fucked half your school, so what speaks against us having a little fun with you too?"

***

Mrs. Meyer couldn't take the silence in the shop for long; it was not in her nature just to stand around with an open mouth. For a few minutes, she had joined the shop clerk in staring through the window onto the empty road, after Martin had disappeared around a corner. In the end, though, she broke the silence.

"I wonder why they allowed him to leave the hospital right away, after just waking up. I mean, looking at him you could barely tell that he had been in a coma for such a long time, he looked fine to me. But isn't it dangerous? Doesn't he have to be monitored or something? But that's what it's like these days. It costs money to keep people in hospitals, so they get kicked out as soon as they can stand on their own legs..."

The young shop clerk kept staring out at the street that Martin had crossed a few minutes earlier. For a while, she let Mrs. Meyer just talk, barely listening to her words. When she finally replied, her voice sounded almost dreamy.

"Maybe he asked them to let him leave the hospital against the doctor's advice? I think you can do that. I think to do that you just have to sign something that it is on your own responsibility. That's what I've seen on TV anyway, in all those hospital shows..."

"Either way, it is a miracle. He looked completely cured."

Now it was Mrs. Meyer who checked her watch.

"Oh no, did you see the time? It's quite late already. Time just passes too quickly when you have so many interesting things to discuss, doesn't it? But now I really have to go."

Mrs. Meyer packed her shopping into a colorful shopping bag that she always carried with her, commanded Fifi to follow her, and left the bakery. The young shop clerk remained on her spot, unmoving. Two customers at the same time, at this time of day, was more than the little bakery usually saw, she was sure that now it would take more than a bit before she would have to do anything again. Dreamily the young women kept staring out the window; her eyes followed Mrs. Meyer as she crossed the street. The old woman was walking surprisingly fast. Soon she turned into the same little side street that Martin had disappeared into earlier.

***

Laura knelt on the ground; her hands cuffed behind her back again. Her uncle was standing next to her; just a few moments earlier he had pushed her off her chair, so she had fallen onto the ground, and then forced her into this position. His hand was lying on top of her head, heavy and unmoving, by its mere presence preventing her from standing up. Laura's face was turned downwards; in front of her eyes the patterns on the linoleum floor became blurry. Her lower lip was trembling a little bit; otherwise she was completely motionless as she waited for what was now to follow.

Police chief Rombach gave the other police officers a sign. He did not say a word, however, and the others were silent too. In reaction to Rombach's sign, one of the police men stepped closer to the chair Laura was sitting on. It was the same short, moustached man who had taken off her shirt. He was maybe fifty years of age, and quite visibly exceeded his ideal body weight. Laura had always known him as a friendly, relaxed person. When she was a little girl, he had some sweets for her, whenever she visited her uncle at work. Of course, this was because his desk drawer was full of chocolates at any time, not just before her visits -- but he had always shared with his boss' little niece.

Laura kept staring at the ground, pretending the policeman wasn't standing right in front of her, blocking her vision to anywhere else. He was much too close to her for comfort, and Laura believed to make out a slight smell of sweat. Then, while she was still looking down, she heard the sound of fingers on fabric, and then of a zipper being pulled down. She did not want to see it, she did not want to know, but his feet were right there, at the dirty little patch of linoleum floor she was staring at, and a moment later that floor was covered with his trousers, as he had pushed them down. She still refused to look up, until a sharp pain tore through her scalp. Her uncle had grabbed a fistful of her hair, to force her to turn up her face. His grip was so tight; she would not be surprised if he pulled out half her hair.

Through eyelashes that hung heavy with her tears, she could make out the police man's half-erect cock. Police chief Rombach's hand remained on her head, heavy, his fingers entangled into her hair, like a threat: Should she dare to turn her face away, the pain in her scalp would return.

She tried anyway, when the overweight police officer took his dick into his hand, drawing back the foreskin and approaching its shiny head, on which there sat a few sparkling drops of precum, to Laura's mouth. Just before he could touch her lips, rub the sticky liquid onto her skin, she jerked her head to the side and tried to stand up quickly, hoping against hope that she might be able to flee. There had to be people somewhere out there that weren't under Mr. Seger's control.

"Help me! Please! Help me", Laura cried as loud as her voice allowed -- until her uncle mercilessly pulled at her hair with such strength, that she feared he might now indeed pull it out. The searing pain in her skull disturbed the coherence of her words, and all she could utter was a loud moan.

A loud clicking sound caught Laura's attention immediately, cutting off her screams. One hand still in her hair, Uncle Stefan was holding his gun in the other, pointing it directly at Laura's temple. He still remained silent. Now that Laura had ceased her screams there was no sound to be heard. Silently, the police chief tugged at her hair, making his niece turn her head back to the other police man's crotch. He followed the movement with his gun, Laura felt the cold metal touch her skin lightly, while her uncle's fingers seemed to cut into her skull.

The police officer in front of Laura had one of his hands wrapped around his dick, with the other hand he now cupped Laura's chin to guide her face exactly to where he wanted it. Slowly, he rubbed the swollen tip of his cock over her lips. Laura could taste the salty bitterness of the sticky drops of his precum on her mouth. Her eyes fell onto the dark, curly pubic hair of the police man, and onto the hairy curve of his belly. The big bulb was only halfway covered by his police shirt and seemed to linger threateningly over her face. She had to close her eyes, Laura realized, if she wanted to keep from panicking again. It was better not to see him.

Then the police officer spoke. Laura had chatted with him more than once, and though she was not as familiar with his voice as with Uncle Stefan's, she could tell that this was not his normal manner of speaking either. Not only the words themselves, which did not befit this usually soft-spoken man, but his manner of pronouncing them. There was a harsh sound to his voice that made her wince before she could even take in what he said.

"Open your fucking mouth, slut. You have shown your whole school what a little whore you are, so you can show us now, too."

Again, cold metal touched Laura's temple, reminding her of the presence of the gun. Mr. Seger was not here, he would not have to see her die, would not have to pull the trigger himself. Laura knew he would not hesitate to give the order. And despite everything, she did not want to die.

Slowly, fighting against her inner resistance, against all her instincts, Laura opened her mouth. She moved her tongue once over her lips and could distinguish more clearly the salty taste of the policeman's precum. It tasted strangely familiar, even though she did not remember ever tasting anything like that before. Suppressing another wave of disgust, Laura forced herself not to move away, to move her tongue further out of her mouth, until it came into contact with the smooth skin of the man's cock, and to slowly lick another drop of precum from its head.

Somewhere above Laura a low moan seemed to fill the room, amplified by the silence of the other men. The police officer put his hands on Laura's head. As her uncle let go of her hair, he entangled his own fingers into the long red curls, so she was unable to avoid his cock that he pushed in between her lips. However, due to the looming threat of the gun pointed at her, Laura did not even consider resistance any more. Instead, she opened her mouth willingly.

With slow but determined movements, the police officer relentlessly pushed his cock into Laura's mouth again and again, pushing in deeper every time, until he reached the girl's throat. A few times she thought she would suffocate as she struggled against the gag reflex. At those moments, Laura forgot about the gun. The instincts that told her to fight back, to turn away from this man, got the better of her -- but then the hand tightened its grip on her hair, twisting it a little. The tearing pain reminded her of her place. She could not get away.

"Your tongue! I can't feel your tongue, bitch!"

As she felt the his hand once again twisting her hair painfully, Laura started running her tongue up and down the police officer's cock quickly. To her relief, the grip loosened slightly. For a few moments he even stopped pulling at her hair altogether. Instead, he just enjoyed the feeling of Laura's tongue, working eagerly up and down the shaft. Though she still felt sick to her stomach, the girl was now more concerned with keeping him from hurting her, and she knew this was the only way. If she would give him all she got, she thought, maybe he would finish quickly, and then, maybe, the police men... or rather, Mr. Seger... would let her go.

She heard the police man moan again, while she let her tongue dance along his cock. Then she took his manhood as deeply into her mouth as was possible for her. His pubic hair tickled her nose. Laura could sense the smell of his sex, and to her surprise she did not find it as repulsive as she had a few moments ago -- in fact, while she had never done anything like this while being conscious, it all seemed familiar to her. Instinctively she knew what to do, how to best get this man off. Her body remembered what it had done so many other times, under Mr. Seger's control.

Then Laura felt a movement behind her. Someone touched her legs: A third police officer had stepped to her, apparently following a sign made by her uncle, who was still pointing the gun at her head.

The hands of that third policeman were now pushing their way in between her legs, prying them apart. At first he was stroking up and down her inner thighs, carefully, almost tenderly, but bit by bit the fingers approached Laura's sex. When she felt the first contact of the man's fingertips with her labia, Laura tried to move away, but the fingers unrelentingly followed her movement. She forgot to concentrate on the job in front of her, and within seconds the grip on her hair tightened again, and her head was pushed down deeper onto the second police man's cock. At the same time, Uncle Stefan was leaning forward, Laura felt his breath touch her ear, and heard his voice, very quietly, but with a tone that sent chills up her spine:

"If you want to get out of this alive you better let him do what he wants."

Laura was trembling, but she obeyed. The fat police officer in front of her started moving his hips, thrusting his cock again and again into Laura's throat, deep enough to make her gag. At the same time, the other man forced a finger into her sex -- she was dry enough to make this not an easy task, but he did not seem to care. As he slowly moved his finger in and out of her womanhood, he started kneading her behind with his other hand. The motion of the finger got easier, as her body automatically started producing some of the liquids needed to make this less painful. As her body reacted, a new sensation rose somewhere deep inside of Laura, despite all her fear and shame and disgust. A feeling that Laura barely knew but recognized immediately. And immediately she tried to push this emotion back down; she did not want to feel like this, she did not want to be aroused by what Mr. Seger made these men do. She just wanted it to be over soon, so she could leave -- even if she did not know what would follow, what else Mr. Seger had planned for her. After all, it could not get much worse than this.

Again and again the policeman forced his finger into Laura, soon adding a second one. Laura was unable to resist the effect this assault had on her body: A strange mixture of pain and -- she could not deny it -- arousal, surged into her, and it was all she could do not to moan loudly, whether of pleasure, or of pain. She remained silent, however. Even though she knew that the policemen did not consciously realize any of what they were doing, she did not want to give them the satisfaction of hearing her voice.

More updates are coming, stay tuned...............

 

[Sr. Diablo]

THE BATTLE OF MINDS PART - 3
UPDATE - 3 ​

Finally the police man withdrew his fingers from Laura's sex; Laura suspected that they were now dripping from the liquids her body had produced. A strange mixture of relief and disappointment washed over her -- she felt strangely empty. Only moments later, however, she felt something else pushing against the entrance of her sex, and it did not take her long to guess what it was. Her heart beating faster, she prepared herself for the inevitable.

The policeman seemed to hold his cock in his hand and rub its head up and down her labia, before slowly, bit by bit, pushing it into her. When his cock had entered her deep enough to not need the guidance of his hand anymore, the man grabbed Laura's hips with both of his hands, making it impossible for her to move away.

Slowly, but without ever pausing, the man had entered her, and pushed deeper and deeper into her sex without hesitation. Despite the liquids her body had produced in defense from the onslaught of his fingers, the man's cock met with resistance from her flesh, but he did not seem to care -- while every inch inside of Laura's sex seemed to burn. Finally he had buried the whole length of his cock inside of her, and for a few moments he remained still, before he pulled back out and then started thrusting into her again and again, with strong, rhythmical movements.

The fat police man, standing before Laura, now started picking up speed as well. He rammed his dick into her mouth faster and faster. Soon enough, being able to breathe was Laura's main worry. Still, as she heard the groans of both men, again that strange mixture of arousal and disgust rose in her, mingling with panic. She was not sure what would happen once those two were done, and she was unable to move or defend herself at all. Finally, without warning, the police man in front of her let go of her head and automatically Laura pulled away from him; his cock slid out of her mouth, which again caused an unexpected feeling of emptiness. Then, the very next moment, something warm splashed onto her face. The policeman renewed his grip into her hair while spurt after spurt of cum landed on Laura's eyes and cheeks and nose.

***

As they approached the forest, Fifi grew excited; Mrs. Meyer did not have to drag him along on his leash anymore. Usually the little dog had to struggle to keep the little legs under its round body moving, but now it jumped forward happily. The poodle did not get to go to the forest very often, and trees and grass were a never ending source of interest to the animal. Happily it started jumping here and there, sniffing anything that came under its nose. Mrs. Meyer tried to calm him, however -- even though Martin was quite far ahead, he might notice them if the dog started barking. And she did not want to be noticed.

What was the boy doing here, in the forest? This really was not the place a person should go to shortly after waking up from a coma, Mrs. Meyer was quite convinced of that. Shouldn't he be with his friends and family, celebrating his miraculous recovery? But maybe, she pondered, he was looking for some peace and quiet, to be alone, readjust to being back in this world. That might have been an explanation, but Martin's fast pace did not seem to fit with this theory. Mrs. Meyer could barely keep up with him.

The old lady swore under her breath, as she tripped over one of those annoying little roots for the umpteenth time. These trees seemed to enjoy nothing better than stretching their roots across the forest path. The forest really was not the right place for an old lady like her either. Angrily she jerked at Fifi's leash, and the little poodle squealed accusingly. Within minutes, however, it had forgotten the affront and started jumping happily around her. The forest seemed to turn him crazy, Mrs. Meyer watched the fat little dog in disbelief; she hardly recognized her pet. No, no, this was not what she had in mind. This was no proper behavior for an animal living with her. With surprising agility she scooped it up, ignoring its disappointed whining -- she needed to think, and for that she could not use its shenanigans.

When she looked up again, however, the bulky shape of Martin in front of her on the forest path had disappeared. For a few moments Mrs. Meyer stood frozen in her place, her struggling poodle clasped tightly to her chest. What should she do now?

"Where can he have gone to?" she asked Fifi, but the little dog did not answer; rather, it just stared longingly into the forest.

Mrs. Meyer decided to just keep walking. He had to be somewhere, and she was resolved to find the boy -- she was sure that she would learn something or other, which was worth telling the whole town about. And really, after stumbling along the sandy forest path, just as she was approaching the shores of Lake Leskow, she could hear voices. At the edge of a small, lonesome bay Martin was standing, his shoulders slumped as usual, and talking to someone. The person he was talking to was obscured by a tree and Mrs. Meyer could only faintly make out his voice -- she was still too far away to hear what this stranger and Martin were speaking about.

As silently as it was possible for heavy-set Mrs. Meyer, she tip toed yet a few steps closer, hiding in the shade of the trees, until she was in hearing range of the two men's quiet conversation.

Just then, the stranger turned around, looking directly into Mrs. Meyer's eyes. He seemed to have no trouble seeing her in the darkness under the trees, like someone who is used to being in the forest. His own face was suddenly hit by the light of a sunray passing through the trees, so Mrs. Meyer could also see it clearly -- and she recognized it right away. Her scream echoed through the forest, for a short moment only; then the old woman fell to the ground with a thump, where she stayed unconscious.

***

The fat policeman now was holding the gun in his hand, pointing it at Laura's head, while he used his other hand to stuff away his limp and sticky cock. Then he pulled up the fly of his trousers. The other policeman had let go of her as well, and for a few moments Laura remained untouched, trembling as she knelt on the cold floor.

The other policeman slowly walked around her, stopping in front of her and sitting down on the ground. He spread his legs slightly, his manhood stood in front of her like a tower. Laura tried to look away, but an inner force prevented her from doing just that. Some uncontrollable curiosity made her stare at his erection, which was still glistening from her own fluids.

Strong hands closed around Laura's hips -- she assumed it was her uncle -- and pushed her forward, towards the other police man. Laura wanted to struggle, fight back; not because she thought she had any chance of escape, but just because she had to. The struggle did not take long. Her uncle's strength far exceeded hers. His unrelenting grip soon forced Laura to come to squat over the policeman, her own legs spread widely. She felt her sex brush against the tip of his cock.

Laura's sex was still somewhat moist, and the policeman managed to enter her without causing her too much pain. His strong grip now replaced her uncle's hands around her waist. He held on to her as he thrust upwards, entering her deeply several times -- and now it started hurting. She was not sure what was worse: His unrelenting thrusts, or his grip, with his fingers digging deep into her skin. Laura had given up her attempts of getting away, she could not do anything. As the police man forced his large cock deeper and deeper into her, bruising her inside, she doubled up with pain. Her uncle still stood behind her, and suddenly she felt his hands on her body again. They were lying heavily on her back, keeping her from straightening up.

Then Laura felt him leaning over her. She felt the heat of his body, heard his breath. His hands ceased pressing her down; instead they moved along her back softly, caressing her almost tenderly, until they reached the small of her back. Then, brusquely, his touch became rough again, as his grip around the round cheeks of her ass tightened and his fingernails dug into her tender flesh, pulling it apart. She could almost sense his stare on her rosette.

The other police officer was still sitting underneath Laura, his cock buried deep inside her. He had stopped thrusting, however, and remained almost motionless, waiting eagerly for what would happen next. He was looking into her face, imbibing every change in her expression, as her uncle tried to push past the barrier of her sphincter muscle with his finger. Of course, Laura knew that the police officer did not really see her, but she wondered whether Mr. Seger was somehow watching her reactions through his eyes. She tried not to show her pain and disgust -- she did not want to give him that satisfaction. Instead, she felt anger rise up in her. Despite the gun still being pointed at her head, and despite the inevitability of the whole situation, Laura found the only outlet of that anger in resistance. She started struggling again, tried to stand up, to push away her uncle. She wanted to kick him, make him stop in some way.

His grip, however, was relentless. The weight of his body supported on his hands, he was much too heavy for Laura to resist. She did not have the strength to fight him off. The fingernails of his right hand started digging deeper into her skin. Momentarily they took her attention away from that one index finger, that was slowly but mercilessly entering her tight hole.

"If you don't stop this and lie still, it is going to hurt a lot more."

Uncle Stefan's voice sounded strange and somehow like none of this really concerned him. Not like his real voice, not like this was really him -- and in a way, Laura knew, it wasn't. She was not sure, however, if she should see that as some kind of comfort, or if that only made everything worse. She tried to wriggle away one more time, but her resources for resistance were used up. Resigned, she gave herself over to her fate.

The pressure on her rosette increased, and Laura could feel her uncle's finger slowly progressing its forced entry into the small hole. It hurt less now, much less than she had feared it would, as the man under Laura remained motionless and she had stopped her struggle; Uncle Stefan indeed was almost careful in his undertaking. She started hoping that she might get through all this alright, somehow, as much as anything could be alright for her since that fateful day almost two years ago. She remained compliant; let him do what he wanted. She could not suppress the little sobs that escaped her mouth occasionally, but they did not seem to bother anyone.

After a little while, the pressure increased. Laura had the impression that it was more than one finger which the police chief was thrusting into her asshole in faster and faster movements. They moved inside her with ease, the instinctive resistance of her body had ceased. And suddenly she realized that her own sobs had started sounding rather like moans. The invasion of her uncle's fingers into her asshole hurt only slightly now. In fact, in a strange way, it even felt good.

Then, for a moment, Uncle Stefan withdrew his fingers, and a strange mixture of relief and emptiness swept through her. She knew it was not over, but was somehow unable to think clearly about what was to follow. For a moment she forgot what they had told her, tried to turn her head, to see what was going on. Before she could finish the motion, however, the policeman under her grabbed her head. His cock still motionless but hard like a big piece of wood inside her, he pulled down her face to his own, pressing her mouth against his lips. His tongue forced its way between her lips and violently swirled around inside her mouth.

At the same time, she felt her uncle's fingers at her asshole again -- no, not his fingers. There was pressure, but what tried to enter there was considerably bigger than a finger. Instinctively, Laura's whole body tensed up again, but it was to no avail. Police chief Rombach uttered a low groan as he, bit by bit, pushed past Laura's defenses. Then, suddenly, he stopped. Laura could hear his breath, somewhere above her. She was sure that the head of his cock must be entirely inside her smallest hole now, and though it felt far from comfortable, she tried to grow accustomed to this new sensation. The fingers had not hurt anymore after a while, and maybe she could get used to this too.

Just when she thought she could cope with it, however, a new and violent pain made her scream uncontrollably, as without warning her uncle forced the full length of his cock into her with one fast thrust. She felt his balls slap once against her pussy. Again, he remained still for a moment, his crotch now pressed closely to Laura's behind; then he pulled out a bit again and started thrusting into her in fast, rhythmical movements. Laura stopped screaming soon, and her sobs could not cover up the smacking sounds of Uncle Stefan's lap colliding with her ass again and again.

The other police man now let go of Laura's head again. He pushed her a bit further up, and his hands grabbed her breasts and started handling them roughly, kneading the tender flesh and pinching her nipples occasionally. He also started moving again, pushing his cock up inside her, fucking her in a rhythm adapted perfectly to that of the police chief. Laura was barely able to take in anything of the room around her anymore. She knew there was somewhere a third police man holding a gun to her head and rubbing his own dick at the same time. And there was a fourth man sitting on a chair in a corner of the room, watching them with interest. She did not care. She did not think that the two men fucking her were her uncle and a man she would have called a friend for many years. All she felt, all she could think about was the two cocks. They were filling her so completely she thought she might split open. They were gliding in and out of her relentlessly, slick with juices her body was producing against her own will.

The room seemed to grow blurry in front of her eyes. She felt dizzy and her eyes were strangely hot and dry, for some reason Laura was unable to produce any more tears. Her own screams seemed to her like coming from a different person. She heard her own voice like from a distance; it sounded hoarse. Then it seemed to grow darker around her. Her mind was pulled down, toward a dark abyss. She wanted to fall into it, wanted to give up any knowledge of what was going on -- but again and again the sensation of pain pulled her back into reality. Her whole body hurt, but the only pain she could fully appreciate was the one the relentless thrusts into her pussy caused, and the one of her uncle's cock almost tearing apart her asshole... as if the rest of her body did not exist anymore.

Laura yearned for that abyss of unconsciousness, on the brink of which she seemed to be lingering for hours. She wanted to fall back into darkness, in which there was no thought, no Being. She wanted to forget, but the two men -- or Mr. Seger, or whoever was behind all this -- did not allow her that relief. Again and again they changed their rhythm, paused or started thrusting harder and faster, dug their fingers into her skin or squeezed her breasts and the cheeks of her behind, threw her body around between them like she was a rag doll... Again and again new types of pain pulled her back into reality.

Then, finally, they started hammering into Laura's bruised body with a speed that made her believe she would now, finally be torn into pieces -- however, before that could happen, she felt a shiver go through both men at the same time. Her uncle groaned loudly, the police man under Laura on the other hand was almost completely silent, as both came into her at the same time. Something warm and sticky landed in Laura's face -- the third policeman reached his release at the same time as his two colleagues.

And while her uncle above her sagged down, onto Laura's sweaty body, she finally drifted away into the darkness of unconsciousness that she had been longing for.

***

Fifi's excited barks rang through the darkness of her mind. Slowly, painfully, Mrs. Meyer opened her eyes. It took her a moment to focus on the blurred shapes of tall trees standing against the bright blue sky above her. She was in the forest, she realized, and it was a beautiful summer's day. Fifi had stopped barking now, and instead was licking her face with devotion.

Mrs. Meyer wanted to chase her little dog away, tell it off for this most unacceptable behavior, but somehow that just wouldn't work. She was lying on her back on the slightly moist forest floor, and to her horror she found that she could not move at all. She could not even open her mouth and scream for help.

Somewhere nearby there was the sound of heavy footsteps, stepping uncaringly over leaves and little dry twigs, but she could not see who was walking there. All she could do was stare up at the tree tops and the sky. Every now and then her vision was obscured by Fifi's furry little head, as he had now started exploring the area around her nose with his rough little dog tongue.

"Awake at last?" a voice said.

Then a shadow approached her, fell over her face, blocking out the light of the sun. Fifi stopped showing its affection to Mrs. Meyer; instead the little dog uttered a whimpering sound in a surprisingly small and scared voice, and withdrew from the scene. Someone leaned over the old lady, and a moment later her eyes focused on Martin's face.

"Well, that was not nice of you at all," he said, his face blank as always, his voice mocking her with fake seriousness. "You know, you aren't supposed to snoop around and follow people so you can gossip about them. You really shouldn't have done that -- then you wouldn't have seen my friend here, and things might have been much easier for you."

With these words, a second shadow approached her, and a moment later a second face appeared in Mrs. Meyer's field of vision. The face of the mathematics teacher Frank Seger. Mrs. Meyer knew him, as she knew everyone in town -- there could be no doubt, it was him.

Suddenly the paralysis of her face vanished, though Mrs. Meyer remained unable to move any other part of her heavy body. She could at least open her eyes further, to see the people above her more clearly, and she could move her lips and speak, though she stuttered in a voice that was unusually quiet, betraying the horror she felt:

"But isn't he... aren't you... aren't you..."

"Dead?"

It was Martin who addressed her. Mr. Seger remained silent and after looking down at her for another few moments with a strangely unconcerned expression on his face, he withdrew from her field of vision.

"Well", Martin went on, "I would not quite call him dead, but I suppose he doesn't really have the chance to enjoy being alive anymore. You know, he kind of got himself involved in things that weren't any of his business. And if you do that, you got to live with the consequences, if you know what I mean. Anyway, we should hurry; I still have other things to do today."

"What..." Mrs. Meyer did not get any further in her question. Martin was staring down, directly into her eyes, and her vision, her thoughts, her whole consciousness turned strangely blurry. She felt like the air around her was growing thicker, enveloping her, muffling all her thoughts. Then everything turned dark.

***

Her whole body was sticky. Laura was not quite sure if this was due to her own sweat, or the sweat of the policemen. She had trouble breathing, as the heavy weight of her uncle was pressing her down to the floor. She could feel his slow breaths by the movements of his belly against the small of her back. Her hands were still tied, so it seemed impossible to her to find any position in which she could push the unconscious man off her.




It was completely silent in the small police post, not a voice had been heard in several minutes. Laura wondered what to expect next -- was she to lie here like this forever? Mr. Seger had to turn up at some point; he had to have a plan. He always seemed to have a plan. She was unable to flee, lying here imprisoned between the sweaty bodies of two unconscious police officers. And even if she could get away, Laura knew it was no use. The last few hours had taught her to give up hope. She was Mr. Seger's prisoner, to do with as he wanted, as long as he wanted -- even after she had learned to free her mind.
Finally she could hear footsteps, approaching the door. While Laura felt how a small thread of saliva ran out of the corner of her uncle's mouth, onto her shoulder, the door slowly opened. Then it was silent again. She could only lift her head a little bit, so in the dull light in the room, Laura could only make out a vague shape in the door, against the light of the bright neon lamps outside in the hallway. She could not see the face.
Still, she gathered all her remaining strength to utter a few, angry words.
"Why? Why did you do that to me Mr. Seger? What have I done to you?"
The voice that answered her, however, was not the one of the teacher.
"You know quite well what you did to me," Martin said as he entered the room.

 

[Sr. Diablo]

next chapter of this story will be posted VERY SOON......KEEP READING​

 

[Sr. Diablo]

THE BATTLE OF MINDS PART - 4
UPDATE - 1 ​

This is the fourth chapter of a story mainly placed in the "Mind Control" category. Though I put this chapter into the category of "Erotic Horror", there are elements of Mind Control and Non Consent.

I recommend reading all chapters of the story. However, for those who want to start by reading this chapter, here is a short summary of what happened so far:

A mysterious locket has appeared in the small German town of Leskow. This locket supplies its bearer with the power to control other people's minds. Laura is one of the first victims of this power: She finds herself under complete control of her class mate Martin, and later of her teacher Mr. Seger. However, she learns to free herself from the influence of the locket -- but since he can still control all the people around her, Martin, after recovering the locket from the teacher, has captured Laura.

~~~

The waters of Lake Leskow are calm, not one wave curls up on its dark surface. Nor does any leaf stir on the tall trees of the Grünenberger forest. And Leskow itself, a small town at the banks of the lake, is strangely quiet. The sun is still up, yet the town's inhabitants have withdrawn into their houses. They seem to be waiting for something they can barely comprehend. The whole town is holding its breath.

If there was a stranger walking down the lonely streets, he might feel the urge to leave those empty roads. He might want to enter one of the tidy little houses, just to confirm that other living beings still exist on this planet. If there was such a stranger, and if he should indeed do so, however, he would enter silent, ghostly rooms.

The good people of Leskow are indeed all inside their houses: The evening is still early, and the inhabitants of the houses are sitting around their tables for their daily family dinners, as it is customary at this time of day in a town like Leskow. Here, the day still has a specific order and there is a right time for everything -- and everything is done at the allotted time. However, if that hypothetical intruder approached the people, looked at them, tried to talk to them -- he would find himself looking at strangely empty, expressionless faces of silent people. He would see men and women and even children sitting at the table almost motionless, eating their dinner without enjoyment. He would hear none of the usual happy conversations about the past day, nor would he hear the arguments that occasionally take place on such occasions. He would hear no parent asking their children whether they have remembered to do their homework, no adult complaining about problems at work, and no comments on the quality of today's meal. The people of Leskow eat in silence, without appetite or joy; and yet, even the children finish their vegetables without protest.

The whole town is waiting in silence. It is as calm and quiet as the lake and the forest. The whole world seems to be holding its breath, waiting.

***

The light of the setting sun was shining through the trees. Its deep red color reminded of flames. For a moment, the whole forest seemed ablaze. Soon, however, this last light of day would be replaced by a soothing darkness.

It was the beginning of September. As long as the sun was up, the evening air was still mild, but Laura could clearly remember the cold of the past night. With a shiver she realized that this was just the beginning -- it would get worse, colder and colder, with every night that passed. And soon the daily rains and autumn storms would start. Was she to freeze to death out here? The girl stood up and grabbed the lattice of her cage with both hands, shaking it with all her remaining strength.

"Martin! Martin! I need a blanket, and I need it now!"

No reaction came from the little house, standing about twenty meters from Laura's cage. Nothing indicated that she had been heard. Whoever was inside the house, decided to remain silent. Other than the girl in the cage and a few lost mosquitoes clinging on to the last remains of summer, the whole clearing seemed lifeless. Just the smoke, rising up in a straight line from the chimney of the hut, proved that the little house was indeed inhabited.

"Martin!"

This time the young woman's voice was louder, angrier, almost shrill. And apparently volume had been the key, as this time she managed to provoke a reaction: Inside the house, a dog started barking like mad.

"Martin!"

Finally the door opened, and an elderly, roundly shaped woman stepped onto the clearing. Her hair was in a mess, gray strands hanging into her face or standing up straight into the air, their tips still purple. But it was obvious that she had not renewed her hair dye in months. The woman's clothing, which must have been expensive at one time, was now dirty and torn. Her face reflected exhaustion, other than that, however, it was completely void of any expression. The woman was accompanied by a small, black poodle that was jumping around her and barking loudly and desperately. The old lady, however, did not react to the animal's obvious plea for attention.

When the woman reached the cage, the dog squeezed through the lattice. This worked much easier than it had a few weeks ago, when it was still summer and the poodle and its mama had first started living in the forest: As time went by, the little dog was losing a lot of its excess weight and learning to move with an agility no one would have believed possible. Inside the cage, the small animal greeted the girl, Laura, by wagging its tiny tail eagerly. Then it took to licking the girl's hands with devotion. Automatically, Laura started petting the animal, but she was not looking at it. Her eyes were not focused on the woman either; rather, she was looking past her, towards the door of the wooden hut.

"Master Martin has sent me to tell Miss Laura that he is going to shoot her, should she not shut up this very instant", the woman said in a monotonous voice.

"Master Martin!" Laura laughed despite herself; it was not a joyful laugh though. „That's how he has you call him these days? Well then, go and tell Master Martin that I am cold and that I will freeze to death one of these days, if he goes on making me sit around naked like this."

The old woman turned back to the hut, dragging her feet behind her as she walked, and the poodle stayed with Laura, looking at her with trustful eyes. The animal knew that something was not quite right with its mama, and the other people around here seemed to behave strangely as well. Fifi sensed that they were not really there; even though he could smell them and see them walking around and even hear them speak. The only two that even seemed to have any kind of awareness of what they were doing, where this young woman, sitting naked in a big metal cage, and the strange man.

The poodle did not like the strange man at all. Nor did the man seem to like Fifi a whole lot. At first he had always shouted at the animal, even tried to kick it. At some point he stopped doing that, instead taking up a peculiar interest in the little dog that was even worse. Again and again the strange man had stared at it, and then Fifi could feel a strange prickling sensation in its head that drove it crazy. It was as if the air and everything around it was growing thicker. Usually it fled as soon as it felt this happening again; hiding in the forest or in the woman's cage. Sometimes, however, before it could flee, a strange darkness rose around the dog, and then it suddenly found itself to be at a completely different place than before. Once, it was even sitting on the lower branches of a tall tree, two meters above ground.

The woman in the cage was much, much nicer than the strange man; Fifi learned that quickly. Whenever the poodle squeezed inside her prison, she would pet it and talk to it in a soft voice, like it was the only being that understood her or cared what she had to say. Her voice, however, always sounded sad. And she disliked the strange man just as much as Fifi did, or even more. But while the man had no fear of the little poodle, he never dared to approach the cage more than five meters, and Fifi could clearly taste the aroma of the man's fear in the air when he had to speak to the woman in the cage directly.

The hut's door opened again, and Fifi's mama slowly crossed the clearing, dragging her feet towards the cage. The little dog got up with a sigh, pushed its body through the lattice, and trotted towards the old lady. She had not called it, she never called it anymore, and she never as much as looked at her pet. Despite everything, however, she was still its mama, and Fifi was not the type of dog that would turn away from its human just like that.

The old lady was carrying a brown bundle in her arms, pressed tightly to her chest. After reaching the cage, she squeezed it through the lattice without a word. Then she turned around and walked back to the hut, followed by her poodle. It was time for her to prepare dinner, the little dog knew that. His mama's main job was to cook for the mean man. She did this with precision and apparent dedication, conjuring up complex meals she had never succeeded in preparing back in the old times, when they still lived in their little apartment in Leskow. At the same time, however, her lack of attention towards her pet came in useful at those occasions: She never noticed it stealing a few lumps of meat -- and as Fifi was not being fed by anyone intentionally, the dog depended on those stolen bites for its survival.

***

With a sigh, Laura wrapped the blanket around her naked body. Though it was getting later in the evening, some of the day's warmth still remained. However, this was the first time for many weeks that she had a chance to hide her body, and it was a comfort she had barely hoped for anymore. Of course, except for Martin, there was no one around to consciously see her; but being naked all the time made her feel even more vulnerable than the fact that she was imprisoned in this cage. Now, with the blanket, she had won back a little bit of her privacy.

Almost two months had passed by now, since Martin, with the help of her uncle's gun, forced her to walk through the whole city He spent great attention to that she was always at least a Meter in front of him. Laura realized quite quickly that he would not dare to use the locket's powers against her anymore. His memories of how he had fared with this a year earlier were still too fresh. The gun, on the other hand, he would not hesitate to use if it became necessary, and Laura still had enough of a survival instinct to do what he told her.

She was still naked as they walked through town, adorned with the juices and the sweat of the policemen that had tormented her on Martin's orders. Their dried semen between her legs made her skin itch. Her insides felt raw enough, her body exhausted enough to make every step hurt. The perfectly blue sky and the sun burning down on her were little comfort. Laura was shivering; there was a coldness inside her that would not leave anymore.

The town had not been empty at all that summer afternoon; they met many people along the way. However, no one seemed to even notice Laura and Martin's presence. The faces of Leskow's inhabitants were expressionless; they passed them without as much as a glance towards the naked girl and the miraculously awoken boy.

Laura could not help admiring Martin's newfound mastery with the locket -- Mr. Seger had, as far as she knew, usually influenced only her mind or that of another victim with the help of the thing, and sometimes that of two or three people at the same time. Martin, on the other hand, seemed to be in control of the entire town at once. Or at least, of all the people who approached them.

Laura had seen more than one of her friends during that fateful walk toward the forest. Once she even called out the name of one of her former school mates in desperation. The girl stopped, but in her dull eyes there was no sign of recognition, no understanding of the situation. She seemed to gaze past Laura. Martin, however, suddenly stopped pointing his gun at Laura's head. Instead, he turned to the blond girl, who was standing there motionless. The girl did not stir, as her former school mate pointed the gun at her head now, her vague smile never left her lips.

Martin's voice was calm, but it cut into Laura's heart like a knife: "If you try anything -- anything at all -- I kill her first. And then some of the others. I know which people you care about most. I've known you since you were a child, Laura. And in fact, I don't even have to waste my ammunition on them. I can make the whole town kill each other, and doesn't cost me more than a thought."

After that, Laura didn't dare resist anymore. She followed Martin without another word. Her eyes glued to the ground, she did not look up at all the familiar faces, and the familiar sight of her home town.

In the forest, Martin had taken up his camp in Mr. Seger's hut. Mr. Seger was still there, however, but without free will. The teacher was as much a slave to Martin now, as Laura had once been to him. He tied Laura to a tree on Martin's orders -- Martin himself still did not dare to even touch the girl. Soon after, other people from Leskow came into the forest, Martin surrounded himself with the most thuggish of his former school mates, with the strongest guys -- he seemed to like having a personal guard, even if there was no one who could harm him in any way. Some of his guards took turns in watching Laura, making sure she could not shake off her ties. For the time being, they left her alone at least, they did not even notice that the girl was naked. Finally, some men brought a big metal cage into the forest, and Laura could move into a slightly more comfortable prison: Rather than standing all the time, the coarse rope cutting into her hands, she could sit down or even lie down now. The cage had been a relief at first, but she had soon grown tired of it. Still, it remained her prison to this day.

Laura eventually gave up on wracking her brain, trying to figure out what exactly Martin was up to. She was sure he had some kind of plan. Else, why would he hide here in the forest rather than enjoy the comforts of the town? His power was strong enough to remain unnoticed in plain view of everyone; he had no reason to hide, as Mr. Seger might have had. And why would he keep her alive despite his obvious fear of her? There had to be an explanation for all this, and Laura was sure she would not like it one bit; but it was moot to think about all this. As long as she sat locked up here, there wasn't much she could do about it.

The sun had gone down over all those thoughts and musings. 'I should sleep', Laura thought. She was pretty sure she would not receive any food today anymore, and to be honest, she was not surprised. This was not the first time Martin forgot to send her something to eat, and after her demand of a blanket he might even let her be hungry out of spite. Laura closed her eyes, snuggling up into the comfort of the blanket. It was an old and rough piece of textile, but it was better than anything in her life during the last weeks. Within minutes she drifted away into sleep.

***

There it was again, a strange buzzing feeling in the air, everything growing more solid in a way, and the impression of standing at the edge of a dark precipice. Fifi got up and growled, the hair on its neck standing up. Opposite the little dog, Martin was sitting on his bed and staring at the animal. Until a moment ago, Fifi had been sleeping, hiding in the darkest corner of the hut, as always. However, the dog always woke up when Martin tried to control it.

"Come on, stupid mutt. You are supposed to dance on your hind legs," Martin murmured, without turning his gaze from the growling poodle. The locket was hanging down from its chain around his neck; Martin could feel the strength that was emanating from it. This strength, this power helped him to control many people at once. Why was it so much harder to control one little dog? Martin suspected that it might be even more difficult with beings that were yet smaller, simpler, less like human beings -- like a fly, or an ant for example. Still, it should be possible to control even those, if he could just learn to think like them, feel like them. He was going to learn it, he was sure. One day, he would be in control of everything around him.

The strange feeling in Fifi had diminished, and with a sigh the poodle lay back down on its usual spot. It did not trust the strange man. As long as Martin was here, the dog knew it had to stay alert. If his mama were not here and would not insist on staying in this horrible house, it would have long ago disappeared into the forest.

For a moment, all was calm, and the poodle decided to have a little nap. However, before it had time to drift off to sleep, the strange feeling was back. Fifi gave an angry bark, but this time the precipice was stronger than ever, pulling the animal down into its darkness. The dog jerked and growled, trying to resist its force, but it was a lost fight. Within seconds, everything turned black inside Fifi; the dog only vaguely felt its body lifting up onto its hind legs.

***

Raindrops were drumming down onto the big plastic plane, set up on Martin's orders Martin a few days ago to cover Laura's cage. The plastic sheet helped against most of the rain, but constant moisture crept into everything anyway. Everything was moldy, and even Laura's skin felt swollen, though that was probably just her imagination. With a shiver the girl wrapped her clam sleeping bag more tightly around her body. This was another novelty, given to her by Martin, along with the plane and a comment on his own graciousness. It had been more than time for her to receive better protection against the autumn weather; otherwise, she might have frozen to death during the last nights. It was much too cold for just a thin blanket by now; after all it was October already.

Time passed slowly in the cage. Martin still did not dare to approach her more than a few meters. Every now and then the old woman brought her some food, but she was completely under Martin's control. Her eyes were empty and her face expressionless, no matter what Laura did to catch her attention. It was no different with Mr. Seger, who had affixed the plane over her cage. At times, some boys from Laura's and Martin's school class turned up as well, but they never spent any attention to Laura. Laura had no idea what Martin was up to with them or with Leskow in general. Sometimes she wondered if he really had a plan after all. He could control big groups of people at once now, without any problems, giving them different tasks each -- and he did not even have to be anywhere near them. Laura did not understand why he kept living in this hut in the forest; there was no reason for him to hide.

Then, sometimes, girls turned up on the clearing; Laura knew most of them from school as well. However, the knowledge that they were no different off than she had been a few years ago, did not touch her; she had long given up on emotions like sympathy, or sadness. She was not sure why she did not just give up in general, why she was still trying to talk sense into Martin, why she still wanted to figure him out. It was no use, after all, but somewhere inside her there was still some instinct that told her to survive, to get out of this alive. Her life in the cage did not make much sense; she had nothing to live for really. And it would be easy to end it all; just one night without her sleeping bag and her blanket, and it might all be over soon.

Something kept her from giving up. Somehow, she still clung to the idea that there was some hope, however small it was. She kept thinking that there was a chance for her to get out of here one day. After all, Martin was afraid of her, he could not control her. And Laura was probably the only person in the whole town of Leskow who knew what was happening. Bit by bit, Martin seemed to be getting the whole town under his control. He seemed to think of this place, the town he grew up and spent his whole life in, as his personal playground. To him, Leskow was nothing but the stage for his strange schemes. And once he was in complete control of Leskow, how would he go on? No, this could not be allowed to happen. No matter what it meant for her, if there was any remote chance of her preventing whatever Martin was planning on, Laura had to stay alive to use it. She was the only one who could,

More updates are coming, stay tuned...............

 

[Sr. Diablo]

THE BATTLE OF MINDS PART - 4
UPDATE - 2 ​

A slight tickling in her face pulled Laura out of her thoughts. She rubbed her cheek with the back of her hand. Now something small, dark, was sitting right on her hand. Laura's eyes opened widely in disgust: A spider! She hated those little things. She had been scared of them since her earliest childhood, the thought of touching one of them made her shiver. Now, for a moment, she sat motionless, unable to react as the spider hurriedly ran towards her arm, its eight hairy little legs causing a tingling sensation on her skin. Then she pulled herself together, held her hand out of the lattice of her cage and shook it quickly. The small animal fell down into the brownish dry grass.

Laura felt better again; her heart was still beating wildly in her chest from the scare, but it was calming down already. Why did that silly spider have to come into her cage? Didn't they hide at these temperatures; flee into houses or dark corners? Laura wondered if the warmth of her own body might have attracted the thing. She decided to shake her sleeping bag out very thoroughly, turn it inside out even, as soon as the sun was up. For now, she had to sleep -- and for that, she had to keep her inner eye from displaying the image of hundreds of those small, eight legged creatures crawling through her cage. The longer she tried to sleep, the better Laura knew that she would not close an eye the entire night.

***

"Have a wonderful good morning!"

There was an unaccustomed joyfulness in Martin's voice that for a short moment made Laura smile, as she opened her eyes and looked into a surprisingly warm and sunny October day. Martin was standing outside her cage, very close by. He pressed his pudgy face against the lattice, as if he would not be able to see her well enough otherwise. The grin he wore seemed somewhat foreign on his face; he was not used to expressing any kind of emotion. Martin was not alone, there were two young men standing next to him. They stayed back a step and gazed into the forest, as if the cage and the girl were not there. Laura had seen both of them before. She was sure they went to her school a few years earlier, though she did not know their names and doubted she had ever spoken to either of them. They were probably a few years older than her, so she just never had anything to do with them.

The smile disappeared from Laura's face as quickly as it had appeared. As her mind cleared of the drowsiness of sleep, her awareness of where she was and why she was here returned -- and the memory of who was talking to her there. Martin's happiness could surely not mean anything good for her. Still, some kind of morbid curiosity enticed her to crawl at least a little bit out of her sleeping bag, so she could have a better look at what was going on outside her cage. While she was sitting up, she quickly swiped another spider off the sleeping bag with her left hand -- by now she found a few of the ugly little creatures every morning. Their presence still made her shudder, though she had gotten used to them at least to a degree, by pure necessity. There was just no way of getting rid of them.

"And, how did you sleep?" Martin spoke to her in a friendly, normal tone, as one might speak to a house guest who just appeared in the kitchen for breakfast. And he still did not move, but stood as close to her as he had not dared to in months.

Laura did not reply.

"Look, I have brought two old friends along", Martin continued, unfazed by her silence. "Do you remember those two?"

Laura took another, closer look at the two men flanking Martin. They had been at their school, she was sure of that now. One of them had graduated two or three years ago already, but had stayed in town and worked in some small shop on the main road. The other looked younger after all. He must have been in her grade, but not in any of her classes -- or maybe he was a year younger than her -- and Laura suspected that during the past year he might have been one of her "costumers". That was pure speculation of course; she did not remember anything of that time. Still, the more she thought about it, the more certain she grew that this might be the case.

Now the two of them displayed the same, absent expression that Laura already knew from the old woman, from Mr. Seger, and from any other person near Martin. Suddenly the memory of those horrible hours she had spent in the small interrogation room at the police station flashed through her mind. The very same expression had been present on her uncle's, police chief Stefan Rombach's, face. Laura felt panic surge up in her. Martin had not brought these two guys to do some random job for him. They weren't here to repair something in the house or fix a new plastic plane over her cage. There was a reason for his good mood...

"Open the cage."

He spoke before Laura could even finish her thought, and the two men obeyed as soon as he uttered the words. She was still sitting on the ground, most of her body wrapped into the sleeping back, but she crawled backwards in a speed she would not have thought her body capable of -- until the iron bars of the opposite end of the cage stopped her. Moments later, two pairs of strong hands took hold of Laura and she was dragged out into the sunny forest clearing. Even as she struggled helplessly against the iron grip of the two men, for a short moment her mind was able to appreciate the surroundings: It was indeed a beautiful day, the trees around the clearing had not yet lost their leaves and were blazing in red and yellow, while the sky above contrasted them with the brightest blue. This was surely not a day to...

With all her might, Laura tried to kick one of the men between his legs, but she lost balance and for a moment was only supported by their hold to her arms. Martin stood by the whole scene, grinning as the two men let go of Laura so she hit the ground with a groan. He looked as if all of this was just about the funniest thing he had seen in his whole life.

"I thought you might enjoy some diversion", he said with a smile. Then he leaned forward, his face suddenly directly above Laura's, and watched as she was turned onto her back and pinned to the ground by the two guys. Their combined weight made it impossible for her to as much as move.

Laura knew that he only dared to come close to her because she was, for now, completely helpless. She knew that as long as he had control over people who were stronger than her, she was in his hands, yet she only felt disgust at Martin's cowardice. Though the knowledge of what was to follow caused her a certain panic, her fear was not directed at Martin. All she felt for him was contempt. Instead of answering him, she thus lifted her head as good as she could, and spit into his face. The punishment was instantaneous and took the form of a hand colliding painfully with her cheek. The force of the blow made her head fall back hard onto the cold forest ground. It had not been Martin's hand that struck her; it had been one of the two men. Through the drumming in her head, Laura felt a certain grim satisfaction: Martin still did not dare to touch her.

For a few moments Laura felt numb. Then, slowly, the burning ache on her face registered in her brain. She opened her eyes again, and Martin's face was still hovering above hers, though now at a greater distance -- and he was still wearing the same, smug grin.

"Laura, Laura, Laura," he said calmly, as he wiped her saliva off his face. "Don't you think that was a little bit childish?" He turned to the two men. "Well then," he said. "let's get started."

With this, Martin stopped talking, but cocked his head sideways in amused curiosity. He watched with interest, as one of his helpers took hold of Laura's legs and forcefully pulled them apart, while the other kept pressing her upper body to the ground. He then stepped around her to enjoy the free view of her sex. The grin to dominate his face became full of lust. He slowly moved in more closely, this time his face was hovering over Laura's pussy, close enough for him to take in every detail, though never so close that he might be able to touch her. He uttered a content sigh.

"Hmm, this view certainly gives me some nice memories..." He clicked his tongue, as if remembering a particularly nice meal. "But I guess I got my share of that often enough. Today we should allow our two friends here some fun. Or what do you think, Laura?"

"I think you are a complete asshole," Laura pressed out between clenched teeth. Pronouncing the insult caused her a brief moment of satisfaction: It was something the old Laura would never have said. The innocent girl she once used to be would never have uttered such profanities -- then again, she never had the need to say them, either.

The next blow into her face followed without hesitation. For a moment, the world around Laura became dark, but all too soon her mind focused again. Martin was still grinning.

"Tsss, tsss, what kind of words are those, Laura? I thought you were a young lady..."

What made Laura most angry wasn't the humiliation of Martin once more doing with her as he pleased, as if she was his toy. It wasn't the hands of the two men rendering her defenseless. It wasn't the fact that they now started to greedily handle and knead all parts of her body they could reach, digging their fingers into her breasts and her ass. It was the smugness in Martin's voice that was worst. The memory of the police station still fresh in her mind, she knew that it was no use to fight back, and she knew she ought to be scared rather than angry. Still, this was too familiar for her to feel real fear. And though she knew she would be punished, Laura started struggling again, trying to wriggle out of the two guys' hold. Finally she could free one of her arms and started slapping it around wildly, trying to beat her torturers away.

One of the two men now took hold of both Laura's arms and with a brusque movement pulled them upwards, over her head, where he pressed her wrists onto the ground. Holding onto to her wrists, he now sat down on Laura's chest; his weight causing her to gasp for air. He had big hands, and easily managed to hold on to both Laura's arms with just one of them. He wrapped his other hand around Laura's head, pushing it up and against the fly of his jeans, smothering her face against the fabric. The trousers were still closed, but his cock was straining against the material. Laura could tell how hard he was.

Finally he let go of her again. When she found that both her head and her arms were free, Laura tried again to fight him off her. She attempted to push him away, but the weight of the man's body on her chest remained, she stood no chance. Martin stood by and grinned at her useless struggles, as the guy on top of Laura slowly reached down to the fly of his trousers and pulled it open. Then he got up onto his knees again, which he had placed each on one side of Laura's body. This gave Laura's lungs a short moment of relief, and she breathed in deeply, before the man settled back down onto her chest and made breathing difficult once more. He had pulled down his jeans and underwear now, though just far enough for his quite large manhood to be enjoying its newly won freedom. It stood proud, pointing up into the air just in front of Laura's face.

After having helped his cock out of the prison of his jeans, he now had his hands free again for other uses. He entangled one of them into the girl's hair, pulling at it so violently that she had no choice but to lift her head. Laura had to move face into the desired direction if she did not want him to tear her scalp right off her head. The man's other hand was now cupping her chin. The pressure of his fingers on her jaw forced her to open her mouth, and he pushed his cock in between her lips before Laura could even think of resisting him. She felt the slightly salty taste of his pre-cum stinging on her tongue.

Once again, she wanted to refuse, fight against him; she even considered just closing her teeth around him, biting him -- but his relentless grip in her hair and on her chin made it impossible to think of anything but minimizing this pain as much as she could. Thus, Laura allowed him to enter her mouth, thrust into her throat as deeply as he wanted. When he started pulling at her hair to move her head towards his crotch again and again, she followed those movements as best as she could. It took them a while to find a rhythm to follow, but finally each movement of Laura's head met one of his thrusts.

The depth of those thrusts caused Laura to gag more than once, and sometimes she was sure she would suffocate if this was not over soon. At those times, the reflex of getting away from him fought against her reflex to comply, just so he wouldn't hurt her more. For quite a while all she could concentrate on was the constant pain on her scalp, on trying to catch a little bit of breath every now and then, and on hoping that she would not end up vomiting. The knowledge that there was yet another man present, and that Martin was nearby, almost escaped her mind.

Then Laura suddenly felt two hands grabbing her thighs and pressing them apart violently: Of course it was not enough for Martin what she was going through already. He let the other man walk up behind her. Laura could not see him there, but she was quite sure he also had gotten rid of his trousers by now.

She felt his hand roughly groping at her sex, his fingers searching entrance. Soon, one of his fingers slipped into her pussy. Despite the pain this rough entrance caused her, she felt her body reacting almost immediately. The guy was moving the finger in and out with some difficulty at first, but soon the movement grew more fluid as its entrance was eased the lubrication her body produced -- whether in self-defense or in some twisted memory of the many sexual encounters it had endured when Laura's mind had been gone from her body, she did not know.

Finally the assaulting finger withdrew, and now Laura felt the man's body shift. She felt his weight on her own body, and she felt the heat emanating from his body. As he was touching her sex again, she knew that he would now attempt to enter her with his cock instead. She started twisting her lower body to the side, wanting to escape him. The other man, however, was still holding her down with his weight, half-sitting on her chest. Escape seemed impossible. Resigned, Laura kept still, enduring the sensation of his manhood slowly entering her. She felt it slipping into her sex, bit by bit. The other man did not cease in his assault of her mouth in the meantime.

Lying on her back on the forest floor, Laura had to allow them to fuck her mouth and her pussy for Martin's entertainment. They soon found a similar rhythm, the speed and depth of both their thrusts growing, while Laura tried to minimize the pain this caused her by letting her own body go as limp as possible. This, too, would be over at some point.

Finally at least one of the guys, the one enjoying Laura's mouth, stopped his incessant assault for a moment. He pulled out of her and even let go of her hair, so Laura had a chance to turn her head a little bit and catch some breath. Her lips felt swollen and sore, her jaw tense. The other man, however, kept thumping into her sex. Now that she did not worry about suffocation anymore, Laura felt the bruising thrusts deep inside her more clearly and painfully.

During the past minutes -- or had it been hours? -- she had almost forgotten about Martin, but now she saw him again: He was sitting in the grass, at a safe distance from the three of them, though close enough to observe everything in detail. He seemed mesmerized. His mouth stood wide open, his eyes did not turn from them for even the fraction of a second. His trousers were open too, and he held his dick in a firm grip, rubbing it furiously.

Laura felt disgust that made her almost forget the painful intrusion her body was still experiencing; then the second of her torturers tightened his hold of her hair and chin again, forcing his cock back into the girl's mouth. Laura closed her eyes -- she had given up resistance, all she could do was hope that all of this would be over soon and she would be allowed back into her cage.

Finally, as the thrusts of both men picked up speed and became slightly shallower, Laura knew that this ordeal was close to an end. Soon she felt the semen of one of them splashing into her throat, while the other spilled his cum into her pussy almost simultaneously -- and at the same time, there was a third load of sticky, warm liquid soiling her forehead and her hair, before slowly dropping down to her cheeks. She opened one of her eyes; the lids of the other stuck together from a few drops of cum from Martin, who she now saw standing over her again. He had forgotten his fear for a moment, stepped closer as his orgasm approached, and had come at the same time as the other two guys -- or rather, she supposed, they had come at the same time as him.

***

Blurgh! The little dog retched and shook its body. There was a fish in front of it, half of its body chewed off. The animal had just spat other half back out. How in the world had that gotten into its mouth? It hated fish, of course, like any self-respecting dog. Still, the fishy taste remained, and the dead eyes of the maimed fish stared at Fifi in accusation.

Fifi stood up, running quickly to the lake, it needed water now! When it leant down its head to drink, however, its nose bumped into something cold and hard: The lake was covered with ice. Had the little poodle known anything about the seasons and their natural order, it would have realized that something strange was going on here too -- after all, as far as the animal remembered, it had not been more than five minutes since it had been lying in front of the hut enjoying the last sun rays of a warm September evening.

This, however, was not something the little dog thought much about. It wanted to drink and started turning wildly in circles, wondering where to get water from. Before it could get far in this quest, though, everything turned black in front of its eyes again. It did not know that a moment later it returned to the fish and continued chewing up the slimy cold thing, nor did it notice the strange man, Martin, the man it hated, squatting down next to it, petting its black curls and murmuring:

"See, no problem at all. Who would have thought that it is that easy with dogs? All I have to do is think in simpler terms, then you are all mine..."

***

Spiders, spiders everywhere. They were following Laura even into her dreams, their hairy legs scurrying over the ground, over the lattice of her cage, over her skin. She had no idea how the little beasts managed to run around outside in the cold, in the middle of January, nor why they had chosen her cage, of all places, as the place they wanted to be. She had long ago given up picking them off her sleeping bag, or out of her hair. Instead she just kept trying to comfort herself with the thought that there were no poisonous spiders in this part of the world -- at least she hoped so. Her fear of the small animals had decreased -- one gets used to everything, and Laura was getting used to the spiders; but that did not mean she started liking them.

In her nightmares they sometimes grew though, until their round bodies were the size of her head and she could hear the clicking of their pincers and make out every individual hair on their legs. In such nights she woke up screaming. When she found herself in the forest, in her cage, she would shake out her sleeping bag until she was absolutely sure it was free of spiders. Then she would wrap herself tightly again, and stay awake until sunrise, sitting upright and staring at the floor of the cage to make sure none of the animals was there with her now. After those dreams it would take her a few days to grow used to their constant presence again.

Other than that, Laura's life had become quiet once more. And cold. Every now and then Martin still brought along the two young men from their school. Laura dreaded those days, but somehow even that did not really get to her anymore. She knew exactly what would happen, and she knew when it would be over. Her body was adapting fast, she barely felt pain, and learned to just block out all emotions during such moment. It was, as if it wasn't her who was experiencing this, as if she was still sitting in the safety of her cage, watching the two guys abuse a lifeless body that just happened to look a lot like her own.

Besides those occasions, Martin left her alone. Most days, Laura was sitting in her cage almost motionless for hours, wrapped in the sleeping bag and a blanket. Of course, she was still shivering from the icy cold, her breath forming little clouds in the winter air. At least, however, she was free to let her thoughts wander. She was herself, and that was more than she what she had during the past years. Martin spent most of his time in Leskow now, and Laura wondered what he was up to there.

Another spider. It crawled along Laura's sleeping bag, distracting her from her musings. These creatures really seemed to have a preference for her cage. And sitting inside her sleeping bag seemed to be what they liked best. This little thing there was obviously searching for a way in. Laura shook her head in disgust. They made her almost wish for a harsher winter, some more snow -- of course the cold would probably kill her, too, but hopefully it would also chase away all those spiders.

A deep growl of her stomach steered Laura's thoughts into yet another direction. Hunger was an all too familiar feeling lately. It had to have been a few days since she last got anything to bite. A dry bit of bread and a small bowl of soup, if she remembered right. Laura tried to think back: When had that been? When had she last seen the old woman? Two days had passed at the very least since then. So she hadn't received any food for at least two days -- that wasn't too bad, but it was definitely longer than to call this a good hotel service. Laura snorted at the idea of calling her cage a hotel room. Yes, why had she never seen that? Her sleeping bag was obviously a nice king sized bed with fluffy cushions. And the view: So many windows, right into the forest. With her own shower too: She only needed to move over into one corner of her cage where the plastic plane was kind of broken. And the air conditioning was highly efficient. Just the heating didn't seem to work.

She needed food though. 'Room service', Laura mumbled to herself, and imagined Mr. Seger in a fancy waiter's uniform. He turned up once or twice a day. His expression always absent, his eyes empty and he never deemed Laura worthy of as much as a look. But each time he showed up, he put a new bottle of mineral water into her cage and removed the old one, which was usually empty or frozen. But no food. He never brought food. Laura's stomach grumbled again.

A few times when Mr. Seger showed up, Laura tried to speak to him -- after all he had once worn the locket himself. He had to be stronger than the old woman, maybe he could learn to fight off its influence. If she could get through to him somehow, she could show him how. It was no use though. She never saw as much as the shadow of a reaction on the teacher's face. He was Martin's puppet.

Laura sighed. The truth was that she was getting bored. She wasn't scared of Martin or of his two cronies anymore. Disgusted and angry, yes. She hated what he did to her, but even that was part of the routine now. Nor did she truly fear the spiders, despite the nightmares. Laura wondered if she even was still capable of feeling fear. Fear was an emotion. It wasn't boring. Something truly scary might be entertaining in a way. Or if nothing scary could happen, then something else. If only something would just finally happen. Or if there finally was a chance to get out of this cage, instead of always sitting here. Every day, just sitting motionless staring over the clearing to the little hut. Staring and waiting for food or new humiliations and wondering what Martin was up to...

***

Warm rays of sun fell through the window into her room. There were voices around her. "Happy birthday! You are a big girl now." That was mom's voice. She blinked. Daddy was there too. And grandma and grandpa. They were all standing around a huge pink cake, adorned with five burning candles. She looked down at herself: That was her body, those were her legs, but she was wearing a pink princess dress.

"I want presents!" That was her own voice, though she was speaking in a strangely high tone -- and a demanding tone, at the same time.

Suddenly a huge pile of colorfully wrapped packages appeared, while parents and grandparents were still standing around the cake. They were smiling expectantly, pointing at the presents.

„Go on, unwrap them. They are for you."

In three big steps she was by the pile and grabbed the package on top of it. Without hesitation, she started tearing sparkly red paper off it. The package was big and heavy.

'Maybe it is a new doll!' she thought hopefully.

Then, something moved in the package. The sound of paper breaking, and then something made its way out of a hole in the wrapping. It was a leg. A long, thin, hairy leg. With a small scream she dropped the package. A big spider crawled out of the broken paper.

She jumped to the side to get out of the animal's way. Then she took the next package from the pile. She opened the paper a bit more carefully now: and dropped it again, as another huge, eight legged beast tried to crawl up her arm.

In shock, she turned to her parents. They were still smiling, unaware of the accusation in her eyes. They pointed at the pile and spoke together in one cheerful voice.

"Open them all. They are your birthday presents."

"I don't want any more presents," she whispered.

Her parents' faces changed. They suddenly became more round, formless, ugly, but still smiling.

"Come on, open them. They're all yours."

A sound emanated from the mountain of parcels and presents: The sound of paper being shredded to pieces. The presents started opening themselves. Everywhere from under the red and green and pink paper appeared long, hairy legs and small, round bodies; spiders of all sizes started crawling over the floor, towards her.

In panic, she turned to her parents and grandparents again, but suddenly she realized that all four of them looked exactly the same. They looked... like Martin!

And suddenly Laura realized that she was not five years old anymore; she was twenty, and she was not wearing a little pink princess dress but was naked inside her musty old sleeping bag. And this sleeping bag was covered entirely by spiders, some of them tiny, others quite big, and all of them were crawling towards her unprotected face.

Laura wanted to scream, but some of the spiders had gotten dangerously close to her face. She pressed her lips together as tightly as she could and dared no more than to utter a terrified whine. Holding her arms protectively in front of her face, she did not know where to turn. Everywhere, on the tender skin of her neck, in her hair, on her arms and hands, and soon also inside the sleeping bag she felt the tickling sensation of hundreds of small spider legs crawling over her.

Then, through her panic, she heard the sound of laughter. Martin!

Laura tried to open her eyes, tried to peek past the protective shield of her arms -- but her whole field of vision was covered up by the small, dark bodies of the spiders. They tried to push past her arms, past her closed lips, crawl through any small gap they could find. She felt them creeping along her tummy, her breasts, her legs. They were everywhere. They were going to kill her, suffocate her, Laura was sure of that.

And then, finally, as if following a silent command, all spiders vacated her body, scurrying off into various directions. Only seconds passed until not one of them was inside her cage anymore. Laura sat up. Her whole body was trembling, she believed to still feel a creeping eight legged creature here or there, on her back, in her hair, at her neck -- but when she raised her hand to check, nothing was there anymore.

Martin was standing not too far from her cage, staring at her; his hair was wild, his expression that of a mad man. For a moment he did not move. Then he threw up his arms into the air.

"There are no limits to my power anymore!" he screamed triumphantly. "Soon I will control everything! Everything!"

He turned around and hurried back to the house. Once more, Laura was alone. She pulled her legs up close to her body, wrapping her arms around her shins, and put her head on her knees. She had not cried in what seemed an eternity, but now there was no stopping the tears that were running down her face.

***

Drip. Drip.

The sun was shining down onto her cage, and onto the heavy load of snow lying on the plastic plane. Its weight was pushing the plastic down. However, the snow was slowly but steadily melting in the warmth of a new spring, causing water drops to drip down into Laura's cage. One drop after the other, again and again.

Drip. Drip.

Laura was lying on the floor, awake -- it seemed like days had passed since she had last been able to sleep. She was staring into the direction of Martin's hut. It had been four days since she had last seen him, and just as long since she had last received anything to eat or a bottle of water -- though her thirst, at least, could be stilled by eating the half-molten snow. It was the hunger that was slowly but surely driving her crazy. Of course, this was not the first time Martin forgot about her for a while, but it was so far the longest time that she had not seen any sign of him.

Somewhere near the house there was some movement. Laura jumped up. The next moment, she had to hold on to the bars of her cage, to steady herself against an onslaught of dizziness; she was, in fact, too weak for such sudden movements. As soon as her head stopped spinning, she pressed her face against the bars, as though that would help her to see better through them. After a little while she could make out Mr. Seger, who was carrying a strange collection of items in his arms. He was hurrying towards the entrance of the little house.

"Hey! Come here! Please!"

She knew that shouting and shaking the bars would not have any effect on the man, but somehow it seemed a good way to let out some of her frustration. At least it felt like she was doing something. To Laura's surprise, however, Mr. Seger suddenly stopped and looked up. For a few moments he stared across the clearing towards Laura -- then he turned away again and continued with his work.

***

'It's a trap. It's got to be a trap', Laura thought for what seemed the thousandth time.

Still, she kept staring to the door of her cage, never taking her eyes off the little key. There was an iron chain holding the door of the cage closed, and keeping this chain together was a lock. Only Martin had the key to this lock. Sometimes he gave it to Mr. Seger or whoever else he needed to get to Laura, but he always took back the key afterwards and hid it in his pocket. Now, that very key was inside the lock, and there was no one around but her. Laura was sure she could reach the key, if she just put her hands through the lattice.

Someone had brought her something to eat during the night, without waking her up. As the first rays of sun crept over the clearing, Laura had awoken and found the small bowl of soup and the big lump of bread. She hungrily devoured it all, before even looking up and discovering the key. Since then she was sitting here and pondering whether this was a trap, some kind of trick, and what Martin would do to her if he found that she had attempted to escape. Maybe all he was waiting for was a reason to kill her. But... why would he need a reason? Wasn't it also possible that the key was there indeed just out of coincidence? If Mr. Seger or the old woman, or someone else brought her food, was it possible for them to make mistakes? Martin might not have been nearby; maybe his control was weaker, when he was further away... Was he still able to keep track of such details like a forgotten key, if he was busy with something else? Could it slip their mind to retrieve something because it wasn't present in his mind anymore?

And if this really was a trap -- how much worse could her life get? What did she really have to fear? It was spring, the morning sun shone warmly into her cage. It had to be April at the very least, more likely it was already May. So she had been sitting in this cage for eight or nine months by now, Laura calculated. Eight or nine months with no one she could talk to, no diversion. Every day like the other, other than the fact that every now and then Martin amused himself with watching her being taken by some of his drones. There was nothing in her life she enjoyed, except maybe the feeling of the sun on her skin, or the smell of melting snow and growing grass... But even that was somehow not the same anymore. If Martin killed her, or rather, had someone kill her -- was that really so much worse than this?

With a deep breath, Laura peeled out of her sleeping bag. She stood up and slowly put her hand through the bars. A slight spring breeze brushed past her. Laura shivered a little bit. Without her sleeping bag she was naked -- but she did not care. Her fingers soon caught hold of the small, metal key. For a moment she held her breath, just enjoying the sensation of the artifact under her fingers and of all the possibilities its possession entailed. The wind grew stronger. Without letting go of the key, and without retrieving it, Laura looked up to the sky: Dark clouds were pushing in front of the sun, hiding it from view. A storm seemed to be approaching from the direction of the lake.

'Now or never', Laura decided, and after another deep breath she turned the key in the lock. All her muscles were tense, her whole body ready to run, or jump back into the safety of her sleeping bag. She was almost sure Martin would be standing somewhere, hidden from view, just waiting for her to try to escape.

But nothing happened. Only the cage's door opened. The creaking of the rusty metal hinges made Laura stop for a moment -- however, no one but her was there to hear it. Carefully, slowly, Laura set one foot outside. Soft grass tickled the soles of her feet. Only recently, the spring sun had called these young stalks out of their sleep under ground. Dew was covering them, moistening Laura's feet. A raindrop fell onto her face, but nothing else happened.

Another step. Somewhere in the distance a bird was chirping, else it was quiet. Another step. And another. Step by step, Laura got faster. She felt the blood starting to run through her legs, felt her muscles at work. Like a thousand little needles, as if her body had been numb before and was now waking up. Laura knew that she would not be able to walk very far or run very fast: Her body was not used to such exertions anymore. Her only option was to disappear into the forest and find a good hiding place, where she could think. She might have time; after all, Martin seemed constantly busy lately. Who knew when he would notice she was gone.

The wind increased, and somewhere far away Laura heard the grumbling sound of thunder. She looked around. Why did there have to be a thunderstorm coming up now of all times? A new breeze of wind swept over the clearing, stronger than before. The trees started swaying threateningly. They almost looked as if they were reaching for Laura. The sky was dark now, covered by black clouds. Hadn't it been sunny just a few minutes ago?

'I have to hurry and find a place to hide', Laura thought.

The edge of the clearing was near. Laura could see the thick undergrowth of the forest, promising shelter. Another step and another. She could almost touch the first shrubs and bushes. Just a few more steps... A scream cut through the air somewhere behind her. A dark, thundering scream. A loud roar, like she had never heard one before. Unwillingly, Laura's head turned, and she stopped short in her flight, petrified by fear: Martin was standing in the door frame of his hut.

"Stop!"

He looked different than usual. His hair was longer, hanging wildly into his face, obstructing his view. Still, Laura could recognize that his eyebrows were pulled together, giving his expression a more dangerous appearance. In fact, his whole face somehow seemed darker, angrier -- only Martin's eyes were light. Even from the distance, standing on the other side of the clearing, Laura had the impression that his eyes were burning into her, like two flames. Martin stretched his arms up into the air, as if reaching for the sky. At that very moment the dark clouds burst into flood of rain, splashing down onto the forest with such force that the ground under Laura's feet turned into mud within just a few moments. Within seconds the whole scenery changed: Laura could barely see further than a few meters now -- but Martin's shape, though much further away from her, still was recognizable. He was standing unmoving by his house, like a dark threat. Laura knew that he could still see her, too.

"Stop!"

His voice sounded like the grumbling of thunder. It carried across the clearing, easily audible over the roar of the rain. For another moment Martin stood still, staring at her, and then he started walking across the clearing towards Laura. With each of his steps, a flash of lightning burst across the sky, so bright that Laura feared she might go blind.

'It's him! He is making the lightning and the thunder!'

The realization flashed through her mind. How could she not have realized it before? And now, for the first time in months, she felt true fear again.

Slowly Laura stumbled backwards, no other thought on her mind than that she had to get away from here. Martin kept walking, slowly, each of his steps apparently shaking the ground as another flash of lightning lit up the forest, accompanied by deafening thunder. Still, Laura was sure he would not dare to use the locket against her. She just had to run, he wasn't getting any faster. Once she was in the forest he would not be able to find her, and if he let the storm continue for days. All she had to do was run.

Laura turned around. Her knees shook slightly, but her legs automatically began moving faster, her feet splashing into the ankle deep water that covered the forest ground. The wind increased; thick raindrops and wet leaves hit against her face. Despite her effort, she could barely move against the storm at all. The wind stood like an invincible wall, pushing her back onto the clearing again and again. The cold air was cutting into her lungs; Laura was out of breath within seconds. Still, finally she reached the safe haven of the forest's edge. She was underneath the trees already. Not much of the rain could reach her now, the heavy rain drops were blocked by the trees. Laura could see the forest ground again, and she could go faster now. She had made it. She would be out of Martin's sight soon.

"Stop!" Martin's voice rang over the storm for the third time, but Laura ran on.

Then, suddenly, her foot was stopped by something. It got caught in a root, or a dead branch on the ground, and she fell, face down, onto the ground. She was sure that the path in front of her had been free of obstacles. Behind her, she could feel Martin approaching. She could feel the ground tremble under his heavy footsteps. Quickly Laura started getting up again. She had to keep going, she had to get away. A blow against the back of her head made her fall forward again. For a moment, Laura's vision blurred, it took up all her strength to keep herself from passing out. What had made her fall? Martin was still a few meters away -- she could feel his approach, she knew he wasn't there yet.


More updates are coming, stay tuned...............