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Archive name: Sabah (MF, mc)
Authors name: Homer Vargas (vargas111@yahoo.com)
Story title : Sabah

-----------------------------------------------------
(c) 2001 Copyright Homer Vargas. This work is
copyrighted to the author, with all rights reserved.
This story may be archived and displayed on non-
commercial web sites without permission, but please
make no changes to the text and do not remove the
author name or address.   Thank you
-----------------------------------------------------

Sabah
by Homer Vargas
vargas111@yahoo.com

The following is a revision of the "Lilith" half of 
the story "From Whose Bourne No Traveler 
Returns/Lilith" by Trey Gallant and me. "Lilith" is 
his character. I needed my own to continue the story 
along my lines, as he has his. This is the proper 
prequel to "Sabah and Rod."

**

The wind and snow mixed with rain lashed the windows 
of the stately house on the hill in the countryside. 
Through the clamor of the snowstorm, Sabah heard a 
car's engine begin to sputter and miss. Few women 
could have caught the sound over the storm rattling 
the windows, but her hearing was more acute than any 
ordinary woman's. All her senses were - as were her 
urges. And those senses informed her that as the 
desperate driver turned off the road into her 
driveway as his motor died, leaving it to roll to a 
stop near her entrance gate. She pursed her brow to 
ensure he didn't miss seeing it.

She was not expecting company on such a night. She 
had dressed for the evening alone. But also for a 
tete-a-tete. Always be prepared, she chuckled. Her 
house was set well back the road, and the wet snow 
was accumulating quickly. Out here, forty miles from 
the city there were no near neighbors. There was no 
help for it, the driver of the stricken vehicle would 
have to seek refuge at her door. He was going to be 
frozen by the ten-minute walk to her door. Or she? 
No. Sabah knew the driver was male, a young male. A 
handsome and virile young male, she smiled, her 
nostrils wide with excitement. Somehow, whenever her 
hunger reached this level, a prey appeared. Her 
nerves tingled in expectation, and all her appetites 
stirred. It would take him a few more minutes to make 
his way here. More than enough time to prepare.

She opened the satin robe, black as her hair, 
exposing the shorter nightgown of the same material. 
She appraised her appearance in the mirror in the 
hall, noting with approval how the gown and robe set 
off her fair, almost pale skin. Her eyes were dark, 
mysterious, an effect many women tried to imitate 
with make-up. She needed none. Her ensemble clung to 
her slender yet voluptuous figure. Her bosoms were 
twin snowy mounds with a deeply shadowed valley 
between. This would do very well. Experience gave her 
confidence in her powers.

She was ready by the entrance when the doorbell rang. 
She let it ring a second time -- she wanted him to 
feel like a supplicant -- then opened the door. She 
studied the young man standing there while her 
appearance had its desired effect on him. He was well 
made, better than she had hoped. His face was 
ruggedly strong rather than handsome. No little 
intelligence, and even more strength of character 
looked out of his blue eyes. His hair was wetly 
plastered to his head; she could not judge the color. 
In spite of being miserably cold, he radiated vigor 
and vitality. She suppressed an urge to lick her 
lips. She could not have chosen better. His stunned 
reaction indicated a healthy masculine 
heterosexuality. Very good. This would make her task 
easier ... and more pleasant. She allowed him to 
stare for a few seconds longer.

"Yes?" she said finally. He came to himself with a 
start. He seemed embarrassed by his speechlessness, 
as if it was the fault of his rudeness rather than 
her calculated effort. She eyed him with amusement.

"My car broke down." He gestured towards the gate of 
her drive, although human eyes probably could not see 
it through the storm. "I wanted to use your 'phone to 
call the auto club?"

"They warn single women alone never to let a strange 
man into her house," she replied in a teasing tone. 
"And the traveler-in-distress is the most transparent 
ploy ..." She should know; she had used it often 
enough in the past herself. Her accent reflected her 
long cosmopolitan life. Of course she did not show 
the least sign of apprehension.

"Yes, Ma'am," the distressed traveler answered, 
taking her at her word. "This whole situation is 
right out of a B-movie script. Could you call them 
for me, then? Here is my membership card with my 
member number. tell them I'll wait for them in my 
car. It's a gray..."

"Oh, _do_ come in!" she interrupted a trifle 
impatiently. His misplaced gallantry would spoil her 
plans. "I think I'm in no danger from YOU. You'll 
have to take your chances with me, however. No auto 
club could reach here, anyway. We're likely to be 
snowbound for days," she chuckled. "Now, get in her 
before you catch your death standing there in the 
snow!" She stepped aside and opened the door fully.

He did not hesitate, but entered quickly, visibly 
glad to get out of the cold and wind. He was in the 
entrance hall, with the gleaming white tiled kitchen 
off the right, and the living room/parlor straight 
ahead. The darkened hall to the left led to her 
boudoir. Why on Earth had THAT word popped into his 
mind? The living room was furnished in white: deep 
carpets, plush overstuffed furniture. A fire burned 
in the white brick fireplace and mixed with the smell 
of oak was incense of a most peculiar sort. Music was 
playing softly in the background; although the volume 
was low, he could feel the bass line from the 
powerful speakers.

"Heavens! Don't just stand there dripping on my 
carpet, my young friend" she smiled. "Go into the 
kitchen and get out of those wet things. I'll bring 
you something to put on." She went down the hall to 
the linen closet. From her vantage point in the dark, 
she watched his eyes try to follow her. He went into 
the kitchen, took off his coat and draped it over a 
chair. He removed his shoes, then hesitated. She 
returned to the foyer and tossed him a large, fluffy 
towel through the kitchen door. She laughed. "Go on! 
Get undressed! I won't peek," she lied. "Dry off!"

He blushed (how charming, she thought), but disrobed 
as she instructed and dried himself. She busied 
herself preparing the living room for the next stage, 
surreptitiously looking in on him as he finished and 
wrapped the towel around his body. She felt a spasm 
of desire. She had been far too long without a male 
essence and she had to exercise control to proceed 
methodically. When he had tucked the ends in to 
secure the bath sheet in place, she returned as if by 
coincidence with a white terry cloth kimono. "Here," 
she said not unsympathetically, handing him the robe. 
"Put this on. I'll make you some tea and join you in 
the living room."

He donned the robe and went into the other room. 
While he was in the kitchen, she had turned down the 
lights, and changed the music to something soft and 
dreamy, vaguely oriental, very quiet but with a slow 
pulsing base. "Sit down and make yourself 
comfortable," Sabah called to him from the kitchen. 
"I've turned up the heat, to help take the chill out 
of you."

She watched until he sank into the plush upholstery 
and soft cushions of the over-stuffed couch with a 
sigh. The warmth of the fire, the sensuous feel of 
the velvety pile and the music would coax him into 
the mood she wanted. She saw him hesitate, them put 
his head back, giving in to the music's invitation to 
let go. She smiled to herself and put the kettle on. 
Soothing and mildly sedative herbs were ready in an 
infusion bag. She let the relaxing and erotic 
suggestions she had implanted in the living room 
music take effect while the kettle boiled and the 
brew steeped. When it had reached the right strength 
and temperature, she poured a cup for him, and 
returned to the living room.

His eyes were closed as she expected. She sat by his 
side, curling one leg up under her so she was facing 
him, regarding him for a few moments. Her nostrils 
flared. He would do; he would more than do. Belatedly 
sensing her presence, he blinked, and raised his head 
to look at her. She handed him the faintly steaming 
mug with a smile. "Comfy? Might as well make the best 
of it Look's like you're stuck here with me for 
several days, so you might as well feel at home. 
Here, drink this."

Her fingers lightly brushed his own as she handed him 
the mug. He sipped the sweet fragrant liquid, 
somewhere between warm and hot, to encourage him to 
drink. It was delicious. He sipped again. As she 
watched, she could almost see its soothing effect 
speed through him, relieving the chill and stiffness 
of the drenching he had received, as it gently 
relaxed his muscles, stirred his passions, and 
beguiled his defenses. He glanced at her over the rim 
of the cup. Her robe was open and flowed behind her. 
The gown was slit to the hip, and she had seated 
herself in a position calculated to open it and 
subtly display her smooth, shapely legs. The neckline 
of her gown was disconcertingly low, and contrasted 
strikingly with her milk white bosom. He realized he 
was staring, and jerked his eyes up to her face. She 
saw his confusion, and smiled again.

"It is all right," she spoke in a tone of quiet 
amusement. "Finish your tea. I want you to feel 
comfortable here."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare," he stammered, 
then sipped more of the herbal brew to cover his 
embarrassment.

"It really is all right," she assured him. "It is 
hard not to look at me, isn't it? Don't worry, if 
looking at me helps you relax and feel comfortable, 
be my guest."

He blushed furiously. How sweet, she thought, to find 
a man who can blush these days. Plainly to cover his 
confusion, he raised one eyebrow quizzically. She 
laughed musically and placed her right hand on his 
thigh.

"Would I dress like this if I didn't enjoy having men 
look at me. I LIKE the reaction. Especially of a nice 
YOUNG man." She smiled and leaned her face in her 
left hand, resting that elbow on the back of the 
couch. She gazed steadily into his eyes as she 
continued speaking. "And you do enjoy looking at my 
breasts, don't you?" She did not remove her hand from 
his lap, but let it drift lightly up towards his 
crotch.

"Er...yes, yes I ... I do," he admitted nervously.

"Of course you do," she repeated with mock coyness. 
"I can tell," she went on, trailing her fingers 
across his groin. "I believe looking at my cleavage 
could even be getting you a little bit turned on. 
Don't be embarrassed. It happens frequently when I 
show young men my breasts." She paused to gauge his 
reaction; she didn't want to frighten him ... too 
much. The tea was doing its work, keeping his 
skittishness in check.

"I'm flattered when a man cannot keep his eyes off my 
bosom. I like it even better when he tries to peek up 
my gown as you are doing." His eyes dropped to her 
lap in response to the implicit suggestion. "Trying 
to see if I have on panties?" she teased. She didn't, 
of course, and his eyes were riveted to the narrow 
gap at the top of the slit in her gown by the hint of 
a confirming glimpse. She reached out and took the 
now empty cup from his unfeeling fingers. "Tell me 
your name," she said, abruptly changing the subject.

"Ah ... my name? Oh, Rod," he stammered, blinking and 
dragging his eyes back up to meet her own. "My name 
is Rod ..."

"Rod," she interrupted. "That's a nice name, a 
strong, masculine name. You like being here with me, 
don't you, Rod? Not waiting for an answer, she put 
the cup down on the coffee table, and slipped her 
hand inside the robe he was wearing, grazing her 
fingertips down his bare thigh. "Are you feeling 
relaxed and comfortable, Rod?"

"Oh, sure," he replied hastily, clearly trying not to 
show just how un-comfortable he really was. He tried 
to return her steady look, but her gaze was too 
intense, and the pull of her low neckline was so 
strong, that his eyes kept drifting back into the 
shadowed cleft between her creamy breasts.

This was too good! This delectable male morsel was 
struggling, not to defend himself from seduction by a 
dangerous woman, but to be a gentleman. Such 
innocence! Such naivete! Such a hunk! She could feel 
her pussy grow moist in anticipation of the feeding.

"I don't think you are telling me the truth, Rod," 
she smiled. "It's all right. Like most men, you are
a little bit afraid of me. I am a mysterious, sexy 
woman and I am wearing clothes that make it 
impossible not to look at me. I think this negligee 
with its low neckline intimidates you. You are 
feeling a little aroused. Perhaps you are worried 
that I might seduce you, try to take advantage of 
you. After all, the lights are dim, the room is warm 
and cozy. I have you all alone with no one to see 
what I am doing to you. I could caress you and you 
might become hopelessly aroused." Her palm rested 
warmly against the inside of his thigh, while her 
fingers moved dreamily in little circles, barely 
touching his skin. "Are you afraid that I might make 
you have sex with me against your will?"

"Yes...," he answered abstractedly, his eyes and mind 
elsewhere, as she had arranged.

"Well, you are right to be concerned. It would be 
easy, so easy to manipulate your mind to take 
advantage of you." Just as I have been doing, she 
thought. "But you do not need to worry, Rod. Relax. 
I never make love to a man against his will. No man 
comes to my bed until I have made him very, very 
willing. If we make love tonight, I will make sure 
you really want it first. So you can put those fears 
out of your mind."

"All right." he murmured compliantly, knowing somehow 
that he should not.

"Let me help you forget your fears. You can relax. 
You can trust me." She slid her hand up to his waist 
and unfastened the robe. She smiled a twisted little 
smile, almost a smirk, and dropped her hand to his 
lap. she began a slow gentle stroking of his crotch. 
"We will just talk. You can tell me anything, and 
listen carefully to everything I say."

"Uh, ma'am... Oh! . You shouldn't. . Please don't do 
that!"

"No?" She didn't pause even for an instant as she 
replied. "Do you not like a woman's soft warm hand on 
your sex?"

"Aahh...yes. But it is getting me aroused!"

"That's just the point. Your prick is already getting 
nicely big and hard!"

"But..."

"Do not fight it, Rod. It's to help us become 
friends. I want you to be completely open and at ease 
with me. Open to me. I want you aroused. Getting a 
man aroused makes him docile and obedient. Does not 
my playing with your penis make you feel like doing 
anything I tell you?"

"Oh, yeess, Ma'am," Rod sighed.

"That's right. Good. Very good. Now close your eyes 
and tell me everything about yourself," she 
commanded.

"Yes, Ma'am," Rod murmured as he drifted slowly down 
through the dreamy mood her hand on his cock induced 
and to the threshold of trance she had prepared him 
for. His eyelids drifted shut. She spoke to him 
softly, her lips next to his ear. She knew he was 
hearing her voice as if from a long way off. She 
asked him about his name, where he lived, his 
friends, his family, his job.... He answered 
automatically, without thinking. Eventually, using 
the information she gleaned, she began turning the 
questions around, twisting his answers into 
contradictions, confusing him, rendering the things 
he had told her meaningless. The facts of his life 
grew fuzzy and unimportant to him.

Making him forget the pretty little blonde fiancee 
was a little harder, but so satisfying. Interesting 
material in that relationship. Blondie apparently was 
sexually repressed and Rod was too nice to show how 
badly she frustrated him. The silly filly not only 
often refused him intercourse, she wouldn't even let 
Rod go down on her, despite his pleas, probably 
because she didn't want to have to return the favor. 
It had been weeks since she had let him have 
missionary sex. Very useful.

Eventually it was impossible for him to follow what 
she was doing in the hazy sensual fog with which she 
surrounded him, saturated him. Finally, she recalled 
him to consciousness. "You may open your eyes, rod." 
She made sure he heard in her tone her use of the 
lower case initial letter of his name, turning it 
into a diminutive.

His eyes fluttered open, as if he were reluctant to 
leave the pleasant daze. She gazed intently into his 
face from up close. Her perfume was a fragrant cloud 
around him, making his head swim. She had opened his 
robe, and unwrapped his towel, but he barely seemed 
to notice. He stirred slightly, trying to move. She 
knew he would feel light headed and leaden limbed.

"What happened, Ma'am," he asked. "And what IS your 
name? I can't just keep calling you 'Ma'am'."

"You may call me Sabah, for now, my pet" she replied. 
"What happened is what is still happening, what is 
going to happen, what I am going to do ... to you." 
She continued to caress his manhood, which was by now 
quite engorged and erect.

"Doing to me, Sabah?" he asked, looking helpless and 
confused.

"Do you not even suspect, rod? You Americans have 
forgotten so much history and folklore. It makes you 
so vulnerable, so easy to take advantage of." She 
smiled triumphantly. Her teeth were very white, and 
her lips had become rosy and full. She saw he noticed 
the change. "The tea, of course, was drugged, my 
darling. Nothing strong, just some herbs to make you 
deliciously horny and rather sleepy. You really 
should not accept food or drink from strangers, you 
know." He struggled to sit up, evidently finding it 
extraordinarily difficult. She placed a gentle 
restraining hand on his bare chest, easily pushing 
him back down. "Don't bother trying, love. You are 
too dizzy to get up," she suggested. She began to 
play with his nipples. "And then I aroused you, as I 
am still doing. That makes it easy to cast my spell 
over you. You would say I hypnotized you."

"But why?" Rod gasped.

"Why?" Sabah tossed her hair back. "Why does the 
parasitic wasp paralyze her larger prey? Because she 
does not want her victim to struggle while she feeds. 
I need to feed off the sexual energy of men who are 
careless enough to let me seduce them. Do you know 
what a succubus is?" She slipped off her robe, 
leaving only the black satin gown clinging to her 
lush body.

"Some kind of demon of lust?" Rod answered. She 
sensed him struggling to comprehend and resist what 
was happening. Such great strength of will, such 
steely character. His resistance excited her.

"That is medieval superstition," Sabah responded 
scornfully. "I am as natural a creature as you. 
According to your Professor Gould, our two kinds must 
even have had a common ancestor in the Neolithic. I 
could bear a child by you, if I chose to. But tonight 
we will merely have sex." She smiled wickedly. "That 
is how I feed, you know. I will arouse you to 
unbearable heights. Then I will take you and at your 
climax, drain from you the sexual energy that I need. 
Afterwards, if I let you leave here, you would not 
have noticed. You would have only a fuzzy memory of 
some amazing sex with a mysterious woman. Of course, 
you would be completely exhausted for a week or more, 
but you would recover, none the wiser."

"Then why are you telling me this? What do you mean, 
'if you let me leave'" Rod asked, suspiciously.

"Because I have decided I will NOT let leave here, 
darling. When I pick up occasional men, I am forced 
to gorge myself, which leaves them useless to me for 
weeks, so I discard them. It is more healthful for 
me, however, and more pleasant for the man," she 
smiled seductively, "If I have a regular lover from 
whom I can take smaller amounts of sexual energy more 
frequently. Until he passed away, Charles was a 
wonderful slave who met my needs several times a 
week, several times daily, when he was younger, like 
you. Since then, I have not been able to feed nearly 
often enough. It is dangerous picking up strange men, 
you know. There are too many diseases out there now."

"Then, too, a strong man around a big house like this 
come in handy, you know," she added, running her 
fingers through his hair, almost tenderly. "I need a 
new slave and you'll be perfect."

"Slave?" Fear filled his eyes.

"Or lover," she reassured. Whatever you call it, all 
I have to do is take you to bed with me. I'll make 
you enjoy it so much that after a while, you will 
never want to leave. "Gladly you will become my 
devoted servant and passionate lover. You have what I 
need, and soon you will need what I have, what only 
can give you, rod." She saw fear in his eyes, fear 
fighting with lust. She touched his cheek "Fear not, 
my sweet, I always make sure men enjoy serving and 
feeding me."

"Sabah!" he protested. "You can't do ... I won't ..."

"Hush," she said tenderly and kissed him, taking hold 
of his cock again and starting to rub it vigorously 
but deliciously. "Do not say silly things. I know 
what I can do to you, what I have done to you. I am 
now your succubus. I have been in your mind. After 
our little chat, I understand you completely. I know 
your weaknesses and how to take advantage of them. I 
know how to turn you on, rod, whether you want to be 
or not. Like most human males, you have a secret 
desire to be bedded and dominated by a beautiful 
woman. With me, I will fulfill your deepest wish."

"No, Sabah, I don't want that!" he protested. "I 
won't let you ..."

"Yes, Rod, domination. Enthrallment. I control your 
desires, can make you screw me any time I want," she 
smiled hungrily. "And since I have not had a man in 
several days, I want you now!" She arose from the 
couch in a fluid movement. "You will watch me closely 
while I remove my gown." She shrugged her shoulders 
and the jet satin flowed to the floor. Her pale flesh 
gleamed in the dim light. "Seeing me naked is 
arousing you intensely. You are becoming very 
excited, Rod. Having intercourse with me is the 
capstone of the spell of enslavement. It will seal 
the trance that will make you mine forever."

"I won't let you do that," he objected. "I wont!"

"Yes, you will. You will because I will use a drug 
on you that will destroy your mind's last defenses 
against my control. It will make you weak and permit 
me to do with you as I wish. It is a powerful drug, 
Rod, much more so than the silly potion I put in your 
tea. It will put you into a deep, deep sleep." She 
moved back to the couch and spread her legs for him.

"A drug?" Rod said skeptically, looking around for 
any sign of a hypodermic or pills. She could see that 
he was regaining some control of his speech and 
thoughts. Soon voluntary control of his limbs would 
creep back into his body, as the effects of the 
drugged tea faded. He was almost dangerous. 
Magnificent! She must act in time.

Sabah laughed. "We succubae have been using this drug 
to make men ours for eons. Men know and fear its 
power. It is a drug, which can become a habit, a drug 
that the man instinctively knows can make him a slave 
to the woman who gives it to him. You know what I 
mean, Rod. Why do so many men resist going down on 
their women? They fear the power of the drug. But 
when a female of my kind offers a man the potion, he 
cannot help taking it. YOU cannot help taking it," 
she said, her eyes glowing into his.

He shook his head, his eyes glazed with both lust 
and horror. He tried to avert his gaze, but he was 
powerless to prevent her from opening her sex to him. 
He could not avert his gaze from the wet, inviting 
sight. She was beginning to tease her slit. With the 
other hand she caressed his face, his shoulders and 
chest, and gently brought his face closer to her warm 
moist pussy. "Men allow us to drug you because you 
enjoy too much they way we administer it," she 
gloated. "Drink!"

"Sabah, stop!" he pleaded, looking up into her eyes.

"Are you sure you want me to stop?" she smiled, 
teasing her pussy with her supple fingers as she drew 
his mouth slowly closer. "We give you the drug with 
our pussies, Rod. I secrete a mind-controlling 
hormone from between my legs. Drink it, Rod. It will 
be absorbed by your mouth when you eat me. It goes 
into your blood and flows to your brain. It will make 
you my slave. Don't make me stop, Rod. You will love 
the way I drug you. You will come back to me for it 
often. You will have to keep coming back to me again 
and again for additional doses."

Amazingly his head moved no closer. He was struggling 
to break free. Sabah had never seen such force of 
will. It frightened her and excited her as she had 
never felt. She MUST have him!

"Look at my breasts!" Her tone changed as she changed 
the subject, confusing him further. "I want you to 
kiss my tits." She leaned closer, flaunting her bosom 
inches from his face, bringing her nipples, so 
proudly erect, close to his lips. "Kiss them," she 
coaxed. "Lick them. Suck on them."

The languor which arose from her hand stroking his 
prick had spread through his body and mind, making 
further resistance unthinkable. She slipped one hand 
to the back of his neck and drew his face to her 
bosom. He moaned as his face sank into her voluptuous 
breasts. His obedient mouth found her nipple.

Now he was hers! She had rubbed her breasts with the 
philters and tranquilizing herbs. He was sinking 
quickly, his resistance gone. "Ah...that is so nice," 
the seductress sighed, her voice deepening with 
hunger and lust. "You do that very well, as I knew 
you would. I will teach you a thousand ways to please 
me. You are going to be a wonderful slave," she 
sighed as she pushed his head downward and released 
it. He needed no further guidance. His own fantasies 
took over as he fell to worshiping her pussy.

Sabah did not have long to wait until Rod's tongue 
and lips found her secret self. Aroused for hours, 
she came quickly and filled his mouth with her cum. 
He licked every drop, but he didn't stop! Even with 
her control, she had never been able to get Charles 
to do this. Rod was loving her sex with an enthusiasm 
Sabah had never experienced. Though she didn't think 
it possible, Rod brought her to a second and a third 
orgasm. She closed her eyes and let the waves of 
pleasure flood over her. Could he be the one?

At last her breathing returned to normal and she 
moved to straddle his hips. She took his face in her 
hands and spoke. "Tonight, darling, it is not just 
to feed on your energy, you know, nor even just to 
enslave you. I also have a woman's needs." she guided 
his penis between her vaginal lips. "You have come 
very far, and done very well. Please me once again 
and I will give you the reward I have made you long 
for."

With a complex flexing of her lower abdominal 
muscles, her nether lips reached out and sucked his 
cock inside her. "Best of all," she continued, 
leading his mind to be enveloped by hers as his 
manhood was swallowed within her body, "You do not 
have to do a thing. Just lie back, my darling, and 
let me work my will. Feel my pussy close around your 
cock. Feel it riding up and down the shaft of your 
manhood. You like this, don't you? Up ... and down, 
taking you deeper and deeper into me each time. From 
now on, I will take charge of your sex life and make 
you love it. It is so easy, rod. You love the way I 
fuck you. My pussy goes up ... and down ... up ... 
and down ... deeper and deeper. ... It is so 
relaxing, rod. You are going to close your eyes and 
surrender to the pleasure I am giving you. Close 
your eyes and let me fuck you...fuck you..."

"No, Sabah," he protested with the last of his 
strength and will. He was drunk on her love juices, 
almost overwhelmed by the sensual pleasure of her 
pussy around his cock, she saw, but that strength of 
character she had seen in him from the first instant 
rose up to defend his autonomy from her soft assault. 
How marvelous to find prey worthy of her powers and 
skills. She beamed down at him with admiration, as 
she continued to rock him into submission. He looked 
directly at her, and accused, "You ... can't ... 
hypnotize ... me!"

"But I can, Rod. I am strengthening the hypnotic 
control I already have. You started going under when 
you first saw me. You drifted into a medium trance 
while we were talking as you drank my tea, right 
after you came in. Post-hypnotic suggestion left you 
weak and easy to arouse sexually. Now you are going 
under my spell again, deeply. Each time I fuck you, 
it will get easier to take you under my control, the 
control you will come to crave. Now be still and let 
me continue."

"No," he moaned vainly.

"Yes, Rod. This feels too good to resist. You are 
getting so weak, my darling, and it feels so good to 
sink into my power. You are so drowsy, angel. You are 
struggling so hard to stay awake, my sweet. It's so 
tiring. Don't fight it, love. Close your eyes, my 
darling, and let me fuck you. Won't it be wonderful 
to fall asleep in my arms, rod? Let me put you into a 
deep sleep and when you awake you will be my happy 
sex slave. You'll no longer remember your former 
life. You will not need to think about anything but 
pleasing me. Serving me, feeding me, pleasing me will 
be your whole life, Rod. I demand your all, Rod, but 
the rewards are great."

She watched her words defeat him. She smiled as his 
eyes reluctantly closed and the determined expression 
on his face faded.

"Now relax completely, my sweet, while my cunt goes 
up and down on your cock and puts you to sleep ... up 
... and down ... fucks you ... up ... and down .... 
Putting you to sleep ... up ... and down ... deeper 
... up ... and down ... puts you to sleep ... fucks 
you to sleep ... fucks you ... to sleep.." Her voice 
became softer and her movements accelerated as she 
rode him towards orgasm.

"Now, my precious! Now!" He came at her command and 
she reached out with the immaterial part of herself, 
her own approaching orgasm enveloping and absorbing 
his sexual energy, feeding on it, as her body fed on 
his cum. Only when she felt him slacken and fall limp 
did she allow a her own fourth climax to wash over 
her.

She lay next to him for long delicious minutes as she 
felt the ebb of power from his body to hers, re-
energizing her, nourishing her, rejuvenating her. 
Then, sated for a time, she looked down on the young 
man lying beneath her. Drained now, sleeping so 
peacefully, so profoundly. He was hers now, but what 
a possession! Surprisingly, she found she actually 
felt strong affection for him. He was innocent yet 
strong. He would serve her well for many years. The 
service would take its toll, of course, but with 
proper care, for many years just the same. She had 
never been particularly good at caring for her men. 
But this one seemed special. She would see that the 
years would be happy ones, filled with pleasure. 
Pleasure in serving her.

Perhaps, even ... it was too soon to think about that 
yet, even she could not know when the time would 
come, ... perhaps he would be the one chosen to give 
her the long-desired daughter. Perhaps he already 
had, she thought as she snuggled against his hard 
young body and joined him in sleep.

The End?

No. The story continues in "Sabah and Rod."

Comments are welcomed at vargas111@yahoo.com