Catch the honey in a honeypot

Rod decided that to catch this woman, he needed to set a honeypot trap to find her. She obviously had mind control powers and they may even rival his own.

He needed a sidekick. Backup would be needed at some point and it was something he was sorely lacking.

Being somewhat old school, he posted an ad in the Manwhacket Gazette.

SIDEKICK WANTED: Seeking a dynamic female partner for a high-stakes, nocturnal lifestyle. Must be energetic, adaptable, and comfortable in high-pressure situations. The ideal candidate is a quick study, possesses a flair for the dramatic, and understands the importance of teamwork. Strong physical stamina and a willingness to work closely and collaboratively are essential. This is a demanding role requiring dedication and a certain je ne sais quoi. Serious inquiries only. Please call 1-69-8008135

To his surprise, he actually got a number of calls and scheduled some interviews in an abandoned warehouse nearby for the next day.

The air in the abandoned warehouse tasted of rust and decay. A single, bare bulb hung from the high ceiling, its weak light carving a trembling circle in the oppressive darkness. Below it sat three women, perched on mismatched wooden crates. They were the finalists, chosen from hundreds, each radiating a different flavor of confidence. There was the sharp, corporate type in a tailored pantsuit; the lithe, edgy artist with ink creeping up her neck; and the quiet, athletic one who hadn’t stopped observing since she arrived.

“Welcome,” his voice was a low rumble that seemed to come from the walls themselves. “The job is demanding. It requires more than strength. It requires instinct. Let’s see what you have.”

He pointed toward a corner of the warehouse where a maze of rusted pipes, broken catwalks, and chained-shut doors formed a treacherous obstacle course to a single, glowing green button on the far wall.

“First to the button, moves on,” he said simply. “Go.”

The corporate woman, Clara, bolted immediately, her expensive heels a poor choice. She clattered across the concrete, trying to find a logical path, but a loose pipe sent her sprawling. She was eliminated before she’d even truly begun.

The artist, Luna, was faster and more agile. She flowed over the obstacles like water, a natural. She was ten feet from the button, a triumphant smirk on her face, when Phallix spoke again.

“Luna. Your phone is ringing.”

It was a lie, of course. But it was a test. Her head snapped toward the sound, her focus broken. In that split second of distraction, the athletic woman, Joss, who had been moving with a steady, unhurried deliberation, sailed past her. Her movements were economical, precise. She never looked away from her goal. She pressed the button, and a soft chime echoed through the cavernous space. Luna stood there, defeated by a simple trick. Phallix gestured toward the warehouse door. She left without a word.

Now it was just Joss. She stood calmly in the circle of light, her breathing even.

“Final test,” Phallix said, stepping out of the shadows. He pointed to a large, steel locker, its door slightly ajar. “Your uniform is inside. Get changed.”

Joss nodded and walked to the locker. Phallix followed, standing just behind her. As she pulled the heavy door open, he “stumbled,” his hand shooting out to steady himself on the door frame. The motion was a calculated shove. The door slammed shut, and the jolt dislodged a heavy, coiled fire hose from a rusted bracket directly above her.

The thick canvas hose, heavy and stiff with age, dropped straight down the back of her shirt. It snagged on the fabric and, with the weight of its metal nozzle, yanked her shirt and sports bra clean off her shoulders and down her arms, tangling them at her elbows. She stood there, half-naked from the waist up in the cold, damp air, trapped for a moment by her own clothing.

Phallix watched, his expression unreadable. This was it. The moment of truth.

Joss didn’t flinch. She didn’t gasp or scream. She didn’t even try to cover herself. She simply stood there, her chest bare in the dim light, and assessed the situation with a calm, analytical gaze. She looked down at the hose trapping her arms, then up at the empty bracket, then finally at him. Her eyes held no embarrassment, no fear. Only a clear, piercing intelligence. A slow, deliberate smile touched her lips.

“Clever,” she said, her voice steady. “Was that supposed to impress me?”

She wriggled one arm free with a fluid shrug, then the other, letting the ruined shirt fall to the filthy floor. She stood before him, exposed but utterly in command, waiting for the real challenge to begin.

Phallix felt a rare, genuine smile of his own form. He tossed her a small, black duffel bag he’d been holding. “The uniform is in there. Welcome to the team.”

"Clara and Luna, as the runners up I have a consolation prize for you" he stepped into the moon light and pulled the quick release on his suit, letting his hard cock spring forth.

This was the last test. He intentionally did not mind control Joss to see how she would respond to his true nature. She didn't flinch, just sat and admired.

Phallix mind controlled the others, guiding them to their knees and removing their tops. He had them kiss while topless and then slid his cock between their mouths as they did.

Joss, unprompted, came over after removing the rest of her clothing.

Phallix asked her, "Are you ok with this?"

"I'm not really sure, it seems like something changed in them when you took your dick out."

"I am mind controlling them." said Phallix.

"Oh... So they didn't consent to this?" asked Joss.

"No, they didn't. But they won't remember it and my cum also has healing properties if they consume it."

"That, still doesn't seem quite right. Will you do this to me?"

"Never" said Phallix.

"Ok, then I guess it is fine with me."

"Do you have any more questions?"

"Lots, but there will be time for that later." she said, separating the women and getting close to Phallix and straddling his cock.

His slobber covered dick felt warm against her as she slid herself back and forth against it.

"I want you to fuck me" she said.

He picked her up as she was quite slender. She guided his cock to her wet opening. He slid inside slowly as she was quite tight.

The mind controlled women sat there, expressionless watching his cock penetrate her tight hole.

"Don't just sit there" commanded Phallix.

The women approached and knelt down closer to them, Clara focused on licking Joss's clit and Luna on Phallix's balls.

"Oh fuck yeah", said Phallix, continuing to hold her up.

"Let me fuck that tight little pussy, you... Vixen."

"Vixen, what the fuck is that?" she asked, still getting pounded.

"A vixen is a.."

"I know what it is, why did you call me that?"

"I don't know. I thought it would be sexy" said Phallix.

"It's a bit weird." she replied.

"I'm go.." he started to say before she cut him off.

"It is such an old school thing to say, why did you go to that so fast?"

"I'm going to.." she interrupted him again.

"Slut, sexy, whore. There are so many things you could have called me"

"Too late" replied Phallix, finally getting a word in.

"I know, you already said it." she replied.

"Not that, I was trying to let you know that I was going to cum."

"Oh shit, what happened." she asked.

"I don't need to cum anymore" he replied.

"That's goo..."

He cut her off, "Because I already did."

The two women began to slurp up the cum that was dripping out of her pussy and down his balls.

"Seems like you couldn't handle this... vixen" she said mockingly as he let her down to the ground.

"The next thing you are going to tell me is that will be my sidekick name..." she replied.

"Uh, it's funny you say that." replied Phallix, pulling the uniform out of the duffel bag.

A large V was emblazoned onto the chest.