A mind control story. I considered non-human as well, but opted for the mind control.
Thanks to Sulk for her comments and help during the development of the story. I think she had fun! Thanks also to Private Label for the proof and the edit.
Now it's up to you - read and (I hope) enjoy.
I know where this story is going and will be starting Chapter Two shortly, if the feedback warrants it.
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The hotel room would be adequate for a few days until Riga could move his guests to the country house, the house in which he would finally bring his lascivious plan to fruition. He didn't actually need or desire much in the way of comfort for himself, and he was satisfied with the level of his current accommodation. The depraved nature of his plans, and the time he required to fully complete his task meant that a more private and secluded location was essential. Inquisitive neighbours were most definitely not featured in the plan, and if any were ...unfortunate enough to discover what was taking place - well, they would pay a high price.
Yes, the room in the hotel would suit for the time being, the location close to the heart of the Capital would provide him with an easy starting point to locate the girls he had chosen. The time was upon him, the conjunction of the planets, the position of the moon, and the timing for midsummer; all perfect. Now, all that remained was to meet the women.
Riga left the building and walked to the tube station in his elegant, unhurried way. His attire perfectly matched the way he moved. Like a chameleon he camouflaged himself to blend with his surroundings. Somehow managing to look cool despite the warmth he wore a tailored Savile Row suit; and it fit his frame perfectly. Riga was supremely confident of his dapper appearance, and knew that as he moved along the city streets women were casting surreptitious glances at him. He had the high cheekbones, pouting mouth, and dark hair of a matured Johnny Depp. His eyes were of an indeterminate colour; not that anyone who had ever looked into those eyes could recall what colour they were, and depending upon Riga's mood at the time, any woman who did linger as she looked directly into those disconcerting pools found herself having the most vividly erotic dreams for many disturbed nights to follow.
He emerged from the chaotic depths of the tube station at Covent Garden and took a seat at one of the café bars close to the market. The warmth of the early June sun influenced the mood of the thronging crowd, and Riga sat unnoticed amidst the excited babble. He quietly sipped at his cappuccino and eyed the multitudes as they passed by. He sensed that the girl – one of the girls he needed would be passing by very soon. His nostrils flared like a jungle predator on a scent trail, his nerves tingled with the anticipation of the first meeting, she was close – he could feel her.
His cup clinked onto the saucer as a lupine smile curled the edges of his delicate mouth. There in the crowd, not twenty feet from him, the ubiquitous small daysack on her back stood the dark haired girl. She was enthralled by the comic antics of a street entertainer and was completely oblivious of Riga's appraisal.
The entertainer juggled, and the girl continued to watch, totally enthralled and delighted. Her pretty face, with the cute, upturned nose was lit by her bright smile. Her teeth were white against the pink background of her succulent mouth and the light tan of her face. Her cleavage was deeply emphasized by the compressing effect of her tight, black sleeveless top, and the roundness of her full breasts were like a magnet to the watcher's enigmatic eyes as he studied the girl from his table. Her buttocks and legs were hidden in a pair of voluminous combat pants, but the exposed expanse of lightly tanned midriff between the waist of her low slung trousers and her clinging top showed Riga that the girl was more than suitably physically desirable. Again Riga cast an appreciative eye over the girl's ripe, curvaceous figure, and he nodded his head in an unconscious gesture of approval.
She would do nicely – very nicely indeed.
Riga stood when he saw the girl was about to leave. He left a careless ten-pound note under the saucer, an extraordinary tip even for a pricey establishment in central London, and now that the prey was in his sight Riga moved for the kill.
The girl turned when she felt a presence behind her. She shivered despite the warmth of the early summer sun, and then uttered a slight gasp of surprise when she turned to find Riga standing so close.
'I'm sorry,' he said quietly in his cultured English tone. 'Did I startle you? I really must apologize.'
'Well...' The girl faltered. This guy was creepy; she couldn't put her finger on why, but he somehow felt... bad. He was dressed nicely enough, very nicely she had time to notice, and he was very good looking, maybe a little old for her, but... Still, there was just something fundamentally wrong about him; and she was suddenly cold...
'My dear girl,' Riga said, in the same, quiet voice, 'I really didn't mean to startle you like that, how terribly rude of me.'
It didn't really matter much what Riga said or did to hold the girl's attention, all that was required was that the girl stayed in his immediate vicinity for a few moments longer. He knew she was instinctively repelled by the aura of his malevolence, but a few moments were all he needed.
'Please,' Riga continued, 'perhaps we should go somewhere less busy. I could buy you a drink to apologize.'
The girl's mind was in a whirl of confusion. She didn't want to go for a drink with this man. He was scaring her; he'd only startled her a little and is insistent offer of a drink was way too much - But...
'I dunno...' the girl began, the soft drawl of her accent indicated that she was from North America. 'Really it's not necessary, I'm Ok, really.'
Riga moved closer, his face perfectly composed. 'Oh but my dear, Jennifer, I insist.'
Jennifer's eyes widened at the use of her name. How could this man know? Her stomach flipped greasily with fright. He was scaring her properly now, but his eyes...
'It will be alright,' Riga whispered quietly.
'Well, Ok, I guess it'd be cool,' Jennifer appeared to capitulate.
Riga could have taken Jennifer under his influence with no effort whatsoever. In fact, his entire plan was unnecessary since he could take what he wanted, or rather give what he had to give without the woman even knowing he'd defiled her – But it was so much more fun this way. He viewed people as his playthings; something to be used and then discarded; a consumable commodity, and he adored playing with delicious young ladies.
Minutes later Jennifer was sitting in a pub, a glass of coke fizzing on the table in front of her. Riga spoke to her quietly, Jennifer's reaction limited to nodding her head. 'Now, shall we go?' Riga's question was purely academic since Jennifer was truly in the grip of Riga's will. The barman didn't give the couple a second glance as the pretty girl followed the gentleman out of the pub. Outwardly Jennifer gave no sign that she was behaving out of character, and even in her own mind she was quite content to follow Riga anywhere. She would pander to his every whim, perform whatever act or function he desired, she was a slave to his desires and didn't care.
'After you, my dear,' Riga said and stepped aside to allow Jennifer into the room.
'Wow!' the girl exclaimed in admiration. 'What a great room.'
'Indeed,' Riga replied, amused. Then, as though he was turning a thermostat to adjust the room temperature he allowed Jennifer enough of her own free will to realize that she really didn't want to be in that room with him. He watched detached as the girl's facial expression changed from benign acceptance to being deeply disturbed.
'I...' she began then faltered. 'I'm sorry, I've made a mistake, and I really shouldn't be here.'
Despite being under Riga's influence, Jennifer had complete recollection of the circumstances that had led her to this current situation. She was confused by how easily she had complied with Riga's suggestion, but now she was beginning to grow desperate.
'Shut up you prissy bitch!' Riga hissed at the horrified girl. His face contorted into a mask of fury, the cords on his neck bulged, and Jennifer felt the hot burst of urine jet quickly into her panties. He advanced towards the trembling girl and reached out to cup her breast in his palm. 'Remove that shirt,' he ordered simply.
'No... Please.' A single tear rolled heavily down Jennifer's cheek.
'Yes,' whispered Riga. With no effort whatsoever his will dominated Jennifer to the point where she would comply. 'And the rest,' Riga continued when Jennifer stood bare breasted in front of him.
When Jennifer was naked, Riga took a long, lingering look, appraising the girl's firm, ripe body, and he licked his lips with lascivious anticipation. It would be two weeks until the time was right, but he fully intended to make the most of the opportunity that was present in the meantime.
He knew that Jennifer was, on the whole a good and decent girl. Oh, she was no paragon of virtue, she'd had a handful of lovers up to her twentieth year, but generally she was a morally aware girl, kind hearted and of good character, and it was this innate goodness that made the game so much more delightful to Riga. He was looking forward hugely to the depravity to which he was going to introduce Jennifer. She smelled so pure at the moment, and Riga chuckled darkly as he thought of how the stink of corruption would soon cling to Jennifer's aura.
Riga unbuttoned the flies of his suit trousers and pulled his thick cock from within. Expressionless, Jennifer looked at the intimidating girth and then looked up into Riga's face.
'Kneel before me, my little beauty,' Riga spoke quietly, his eyebrows raised.
