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   Copyright 1998 by EzRiter.

   Email address: ezriter@hotmail.com Comments, please!



   THE ULTIMATE MIND CONTROL

   "Dr.  Richard McRichards, Code 10, SRL 2; Dr.  Richard McRichards, Code
10, SRL 2"

   "Oh, no," Dr.  McRichards groaned in disappointment as he stopped,
pulling his cock out of the women he was fucking.  "No, baby, I need you in
me," she whimpered.  "Please, please, fuck me some more.  I need your big
cock."

   "Inactive," he said, noting her strong resemblance to Yasmine Bleeth. 
He saw her eyes flutter in response to the programmed command as she
relaxed and drifted off to sleep.  He tried to stuff his stiff pecker back
down inside his pants and tuck in his shirt.  While everyone knew he was
very involved in quality control, there was no need to flaunt it.  He
hurried down the hall toward the laboratory area.

   "Doctor," he said to Bruce Davenport, his trusted assistant.

   "Doctor," Bruce replied.

   "What's the problem, doctor?"

   "The $20,000,000 woman is in the building, doctor.  They have her
through preliminaries, measurements, basic interrogation and IQ sections.
She'll be in the SRL in a moment."

   Dr.  McRichards looked around, noting the continual movement of people,
all busy at their jobs, which was to be expected in a well run, major
company.  He smiled thinking how the company made $20 million pure after
tax profit last year and he owned it, lock, stock and barrel.

   Next month should be the best month in the company's history.  That's
when the conditioning of Lisa Winters would be finished and his client
would pay him $20 million for her.  It was the highest price he had ever
received for a woman.

   Lisa Winters.  She was only seventeen but his client had specified her.
His investigation revealed a unique young woman.  Besides placing in the
top three in a national teen beauty pageant and winning Miss Congeniality,
she was the valedictorian in one of the finest prep schools in America with
an IQ of 172.  Moreover, she was reputed to be bubbly, positive, very sweet
and very, very sexy.

   "EMERGENCY!  Security, Code Red 11, SRL 2.  Security, Code Red 11, SRL
2."

   "What the hell?" McRichards exclaimed.  He grabbed a vapor protection
mask off the wall, snapping it around his head.  He had not heard a "Red
11" called in years.

   Pheronome overload.  The smell of pussy.  It could drive a man mad.

   Security men rushed by him headed for the lab entry corridor.  "I can
walk by myself," he heard a female voice say.  His initial thought was of
bell chimes.  His second thought was the sound of the Sirens, those
mythical Greek characters whose voice lured men to their doom.

   All movement in the hall had ceased.  Two men without masks ran
screaming by him, their minds overloaded, their trousers tented.  Then,
there wasn't a sound.  He saw security and other personnel backing up out
of the corridor.

   He saw her.

   You must understand since Dr.  Richard McRichards founded CyberPersonnel
ten years ago, quality control was the key to his success.  Every single
placement had to be a wild, wonderful, hot, sweating, hard fucking woman.
He had personally conducted quality control of the approximately 10,000
women his firm had located, acquired, trained and sold to clients around
the world.  Every one of them was special.  Every one of them was sexy,
sensual, and beautiful.

   Since his firm was now processing approximately five women a day, five
days a week and Dr.  McRichards' quality control with each of them lasted
approximately two hours, he was spending fifty hours a week fucking the
most beautiful, slutty, well-trained sex slaves in the world.

   It was a hard job but somebody had to do it.  However, as a result, Dr.
McRichards was becoming jaded to the beauty of the female form.  So, you
can only imagine how good Lisa Winters looked when Dr.  Dick said, "Jesus
Christ.  Look at that!"

   She was walking toward him like a lioness stalking her prey.  His cock
was hard as steel and he was quivering.  Every man in sight had the same
response.  Suddenly, her eyes began to flutter and she fell to the floor at
his feet, unconscious.  The spell was broken.

   The staff quickly returned to action.  Lisa Winters was carefully lifted
and taken to SRL 2.

   "Bruce, I want a security report immediately.  And I need damages.  We
must find out what caused this."

   "Immediately, doctor," came the response.

   Dr.  Dick watched through the glass window as Lisa was laid on the
gynecological examining table which was standard equipment in all the
Sexual Response Laboratories.  He saw security attach the restraints to her
wrists, then fit her feet in the stirrups, opening her legs, making her
available.  The ankle restraints were quickly fastened.

   He couldn't take his eyes off her.  Either feature by feature or
considered as a package, she was the most perfect woman he'd ever seen. 
Her head was slightly raised on the pillow, her rich, full, red lips
slightly parted as she slept.  Her golden hair which sparkled even in the
labs flourescent lights lay around her like spun gold.  Everything was
perfect:
her nose, her dimples, her eye brows and lashes.  He was so stunned by

her face he had not even looked below her neck yet, and, that's saying
something.

   He watched as the lab technicians putting all the measuring and
evaluating equipment in place.  He moved to look toward that sweetness
between her legs.  A more beautiful pussy he had never seen.  It was a
perfect rose.  He could see the juice dripping from her and the swollen,
full lips.

   "Walters!" he snapped.

   "Yes, sir," his trusted aide replied, stepping to his side.

   "Has she been sexually stimulated?  Has anyone touched her?"

   "I'll check, doctor."

   Dr.  Dick was mesmerized as he watched the young beauty laying so inert.
Her eyes began to flutter.

   "No!  Where am I?" she wailed.  He ran to her side.  "Are you from Mars?
Have I been captured by aliens?" she sobbed.

   "Sorry," he mumbled as he removed the gas mask.  Pheronome hit him like
an ocean wave, almost knocking him over.  He tried to clear his head.

   "Lisa?"

   "Yes.  Who are you?"

   "I'm Dr.  McRichards.  You're safe.  No harm will come to you here."

   "I'm naked.  Please, why am I naked and attached to this table?"

   "We're going to run some tests on you, dear.  That's all." She began to
cry.

   "Give her five ccs of BMC2 stat," Dr.  Dick ordered the nurse at his
side.  The nurse quickly drew the medicine from its container with a
needle. She was reaching for Lisa's arm when "Wait!  That may be the
problem!"

   "What is, doctor?"

   "BMC2.  Has she been given any previously?"

   "I'll check, doctor," the nurse replied.

   "Dr.  McRichards?"

   "Yes, Walters?"

   "No one has given her any sex drugs or sexually stimulated her."

   Dr.  Dick looked back at Lisa who had stopped crying and was watching
them intently.

   "Has anyone touched you sexually, Lisa?"

   "Of course.  I mean, I am seventeen."

   "No, dear.  I meant here, today?"

   "No, sir," she answered, disappointment evident in her voice.

   Dr.  Dick led his team out of earshot.  "It may be the whole sexual
explosion was generated by her naturally."

   "No way!  No woman has that much sexual power," Dr.  Bruce exclaimed.

   "No woman we have tested, you mean," Dr.  Dick replied.

   They looked back at the girl on the table who was staring at them.

   "Reinforce her ankle and wrist restraints.  Add upper arm restraints and
around the knee.  Then, start the tests."

   "Yes, sir," came the swift reply.

   The Sexual Response Laboratory was designed to test, monitor and
evaluate sexual data about women.  Besides monitoring blood pressure,
pulse, heart rate, and other such items, the Laboratory had developed other
tests.  The SEEG was the Sexual Electroencephalogram to measure brain waves
and chemistry.  Several tests measured the power of her kissing, the heat
of her skin, the physical impact of her touch (in pounds per square inch).

   The PIP (Pussy Internal Pressure) test measured the amount and direction
of force applied by vaginal muscles at a depth of four inches.  The DPIP
(Deep PIP) measured at eight inches.  The PEP (Pussy External Pressure)
test measured force at one-half inch and included the effect of the inner
lips.  The PIT (Pussy Internal Temperature) test measured the heat of the
pussy itself at four inches.

   The most sophisticated and newest test was the PIWA (Pussy Internal Wave
Action) test.  This measured the effect of the internal pussy muscles to
create a wave like motion to draw the male cock deeper into itself and
massage it there.  Research showed the PIWA factor to be essential to
ultimate physical pleasure.

   It was the POP (Pussy Odor Power) test McRichards believed to be the
most crucial in this instance.  It measured the release of female phenormes
at the labia and at five feet away.

   Dr.  Richard McRichards stared down at his pants.  He checked his watch.
He had now been constantly hard for almost two hours and just from watching
Lisa Winters.  Never in his life had a woman had this effect on him.  He
noted the men in the area were all tenting.  The ones in the lab itself
appeared almost to be in agony and they couldn't take their eyes off her.

   Suddenly, they saw Lisa's hips began to undulate.  The lab technician
grabbed for a vapor mask.  He was too late.  His screams of madness filled
the air as he buried his face between Lisa's legs.  The loud slurping
sounds droned out her moans of desire as he slurped away, never breathing,
never wanting his intake of her to end, until he fell dead.

   It was a horrible sight.  They would autopsy to determine if he
suffocated or died of a hard . . .  er, heart attack.

   Lisa gasped and fainted, her needs temporarily met.  Dr.  McRichards
called an emergency security meeting.  The staff was close to panic.  His
organization was in danger.  It was then his assistant had a brilliant
idea.

   "Capture her mother.  Bring her here.  Maybe she can shed light on this
problem."

   "Brilliant idea, doctor."

   "Thank you, doctor."

   "In the meantime, doctor, continue the testing with additional
anti-chemical-warfare protection."

   "Yes, doctor."

   Hours later, Dr.  McRichards stood over Lisa Winters.  He looked at this
beautiful, sweet young woman.  Then, he looked back at his test results. 
Every test . . .  every single goddamned test . . .  they gave her showed
she was so far over maximum, they could not measure it.  No woman could
have this much sexual power.  He had to risk a personal interview.

   "Lisa," he asked, his voice muffled by the brand new high tech Vapor
Lock 2000 gas mask.

   "Yes, doctor," she replied softly, her voice like the sounds of angels
wings.

   Why did he have the desire to fall to his knees and beg to kiss her
pussy every time she spoke?  His audio testing procedures, which were still
in development, needed to be brought to production immediately.

   "Have you had problems with men before?"

   "Oh, no, sir.  All men do what I want them to."

   "I know that!" McRichards thought.  "No, dear.  I mean, do you cause men
to go mad, into convulsions, that sort of thing."

   "Just once.  My mother taught me how to control it." He fought the
desire to kneel.

   "Your mother?"

   "Yes.  She's really the beautiful and sexy one in the family."

   "WHAT!!"

   "My mother's the beautiful and sexy one," Lisa said.

   "Noooo!" he thought.

   The mother had been captured.  She was in the building.  McRichards ran
from the SRL.  The first thing he noticed was the deathly quiet in the
hallway.  Where was everyone?  Then, he heard the sound of laughter.  It
was coming his way.  Quickly, he injected a dose of anti-chemical
protection into his arm.  The noise was getting closer.

   Then, he saw her.

   If Lisa Winters was a Mercedes, Stella Winters was a Rolls Royce.  If
Lisa was a princess, Stella was a queen.  She was the mold from which Lisa
was made.  But, now thirty-five and in the full flower of her feminity, she
made Lisa pale by comparison.

   He knew it was all over.  He knew it was too late.  A life times work .
. .  destroyed.  Dr.  Richard McRichards could not move.  Stella was
walking toward him, her eyes holding him in place like a tractor beam from
the Enterprise.  He could only do what men have done for millenniums when
faced by insurmountable danger.  He prayed.

   "Please, God.  Don't let her undress."

   Stella's mouth curled in a sweet, shy and very sexy smile as she stopped
before the frozen scientist.

   "Dickie," she said softly.  He felt the chains surround his mind.

   "Here, let me remove that ugly old mask.  Now, isn't that better."

   Pheronome flowed over him.  He thought he would lose consciousness but
her finger under his chin kept him alert.

   "It's OK, Dickie.  I won't hurt you," she said as she kissed him.

   The feelings of being enveloped in pure goodness, like returning to the
womb, flowed from her lips to his.  Her nipples against his chest were a
counterpoint, like two small electric prods sending raw power through him.
He felt faint from the blood rushing from his head to his cock which was
filled to bursting.

   "Is my daughter safe?" Stella asked.

   "Yes," he whimpered.

   "I knew you were a good man and wouldn't hurt my baby.  Thanks for
keeping her safe, Dickie."

   The pressure of her fingers on his arm was the equivalent, in terms of
physical characteristics, of a light summer breeze, but, it was the
equivalent of three NFL linemen holding him when measured in control of the
subject.

   "How can I make you happy, Stella?" he gasped.

   "I'm just like any woman," she said shyly.  "I need a big strong man to
care for me.  I need a husband, Dickie."

   Lisa Winters dropped out of high school.  Now, executive vice president
and director of male operations at CyberPersonnel, she and her mother were
responsible for the changes in corporate policies and operations which had
doubled Company profit is a year by training and selling men as well as
women.

   Like her step father, she believed quality control was the key to
success.  For that reason, she did it personally.

   Naked, legs spread, Lisa was in her office on her quality control
testing apparatus (called a bed when not for official company use). 
Between her legs was a man who was a dead ringer for George Clooney and had
a foot long cock.

   Lisa was hot and sweaty.  She had orgasmed eleven times with Subject
00769, as the man had been renamed when taken by CyberPersonnel.  But he
had been sold to the woman Prime Minster of a major foreign power and
CyberPersonnel wanted him to be perfect.  This was an opportunity to
penetrate new markets, so to speak.  She groaned and tightened her legs
around him as orgasm twelve flowed over her.

   "Now, take a deep breath," she ordered, pushing the man between her
legs. She felt the breeze tickle her clit as he inhaled.  "Like that smell,
69?" she said, calling him by his nick-number.

   "Yes, Miss Winters," he moaned.  "I can never get enough."

   "That's the whole point," she thought.  She kissed his cheek and
dismissed him.

   "Please, Miss Winters, we have been screwing for an hour and I have not
orgasmed.  May I cum?"

   "Your new owner will be here shortly, 69.  I am sure she would love
having your huge balls unloaded in her."

   "Thank you, Miss Winters," he whimpered as he left for the Exit Station,
carefully holding his bloated and painful balls.

   Lisa slipped on a robe to go see her parents.  When she exited her
office, two technicians walking by fell to their knees, sobbing.  "Damn.  I
need to shower.  I can't let my pheronome interfere with smooth corporate
operations." Now clean, her blonde hair still wet around her head, Lisa
walked through the halls of CyberPersonnel.

   "Hi, Dr.  Bruce.  Where are mom and dad?"

   "They're in their office, Lisa," the doctor replied, feeling his
erection snap upward as his knees buckled and he kneeled.

   She opened the door and smiled, seeing her step father naked and on his
back, her mother over him, his cock buried in her.  Lisa could see the
barely perceptible movement of her mother's body.  Dr.  McRichards looked
as if rigor mortis had set in, totally stiff and death like.

   "Mom, how long has it been?"

   "Three hours and five minutes, honey."

   "Isn't than a long time for a man to fuck?  I mean, has he been in you
the whole time?"

   "We're going for a new record.  Anyway, he loves it.  Don't you,
Dickie?"

   Stella brushed her nipple across his cheek.  She enjoyed seeing him jump
when she did that.  It was as if she had put a cattle prod to his skin.

   His involuntary twitch was his only movement . . .  except for a smile
which grew across his face.

   The End

   Please!  Give me your comments!

   E-mail address: ezriter@hotmail.com