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From: laff@sal.cs.uiuc.edu (Joshua A Laff)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: ARCHIVE: the-book.Z
Message-ID: <2u0uqf$7mf@vixen.cso.uiuc.edu>
Date: 19 Jun 1994 08:15:11 GMT
Reply-To: laff@sal.cs.uiuc.edu
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Organization: University of Illinois at Urbana
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This story is another from the archives, and is not written by me.
Requests for just about anything concerning these posts will be ignored.
See the FAQ in a.s.s.d for more information. And stop sending talk
requests. Even when I'm logged in to this posting site, I usually
have the window closed, and if I don't, it's because I'm WORKING
From: an21262@anon.penet.fi (Blackie)
Date: Thu, 3 Jun 1993 22:59:24 GMT
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.bondage
Subject: Repost: The Book
Reposted per requests
This is a mind control story... pure adolescent male fantasy.
I just had to do one, since I haven't seen any I liked for a while,
not that there aren't any good ones...
Non-consensual m/f (non-violent)
_The Book_
Bob had lived in the house for five years before he found the book.
One day he was cleaning the crawl space, for the first time, when he
spotted a small brown cover under the ancient dust. It was no more
than a quarter inch thick, but was not noticeably different from some
of the unevenly laid boards. He only found it when he placed his hand
on the flooring to brace himself, only to slide six or seven inches.
The brown little binder reminded him of the little accounting notepads
he'd seen at the office supply store. It was 5 inches wide, 7 inches
tall, with no title or markings on the outside. Inside were
handwritten scrawls he simply couldn't make out in the dark of the
crawl space. So finally, after clearing the years of dust away, he
tucked the book into his back pocket.
During one of his trips downstairs he dropped it onto his desk. Now
it rested in a small pile of other papers he meant to clear away, as
soon as the chance arose.
The chance didn't arise that day, and by the end of the week the stack
paper had grown enough to conceal the book again. Bob forgot it for a
time. When he remembered it one night, it was beyond his memory where
he placed the book.
So there it remained; buried in papers, on his desk, for months. Bob
wasn't very prompt clearing away his old bills and letters. The book
was there waiting though, when the time came.
====
Betty was seeing Bob now. She was a pert 5 foot 6 inch beauty with
long dark hair, weighing in at about 115 pounds. Bob liked to look at
her, almost as much as he would like to spend a few private hours
exploring her naked body. He imagined her firm breasts, the soft feel
of her skin, and the contours of her naked ass often. But although
they'd been dating for 5 months, the closest he'd come was a
disappointing necking session. It lasted only long enough for her to
point out the food he was cooking would burn.
She would also boss him around a bit. It seemed to him as though his
vacation with her was entirely her idea, including his paying for it.
Yet they slept separately. And when he suggested that the vacation was
her doing, she pointed out that he brought the idea up, hadn't he? He
was at a loss how that happened.
If they went out for dinner, she chose the cuisine, whether he liked
it or not. Seeing a movie frequently meant one she wanted to see,
although it kept sounding like it was his idea. He wasn't entirely
sure how it kept happening. She seemed pretty pleased with him
though, but sex was not part of the arrangement.
She also had a brutal temper when offended. He was starting to wonder
if the list of offensive issues was too long to continue seeing her.
Still, he hadn't had any other dates lately and she was friendly
enough for most activities.
Betty also came to his house regularly for meals, TV, and rental
movies. Bob didn't mind much, except he'd also like some intimacy to
go with the other social activities. But now she'd decided he needed
to straighten up the house a bit, since she was there more often.
Since he wasn't doing the cleaning, she took a hand in the process,
and if he didn't watch closely, he had to fish things out of the
trash.
She would only pout and ask "what do you need that old thing for
anyway?" By the time he finished explaining, it was something else
that required rescuing from the sanitary engineers.
Bob suspected she had a permanent relationship in mind, particularly
since the cleaning assault started. When he confronted her about
getting more intimate, she told him "I'm waiting, soon enough either
we'll be getting married or not seeing each other any more. I'm saving
sex for marriage. You wouldn't like damaged goods would you?" Bob
tacitly agreed, but thought, I don't believe it makes anyone damaged.
She cooled to him for a while, and getting her to be sociable became
more difficult. But when the subject didn't come up again for a while,
everything returned to normal. Sort of.
During her cleaning project on his house, his desk became one of her
afternoon cleaning sessions. She was sorting the papers into neat
piles. That is when the book resurfaced.
"What's this?" She asked.
"I dunno," he replied, "I found it while cleaning the crawl space.
Thought I'd lost it."
"Well, here," she said, tossing the book to him, "You find it a home,
it doesn't seem to belong with the rest of your papers." And so saying
she went back to organizing, sorting and cleaning. And Bob thought to
himself, taking over my life, sigh. It wouldn't be so bad if I got
laid out of all this. He watched her backside for time as she
flattened the sheets of paper and stacked them neatly for storage.
He looked at the book for a minute and went to the living room.
Dropping into his favorite chair, he opened the book to see what was
in it. He had to turn on the reading lamp to make out the writing.
At first he thought it was gibberish. In fact, although he could make
out the characters clearly now, it was in no script or language he'd
ever seen before. The unusual writing was done in a neat, practiced
hand, with embellishments that came from frequent use. He felt certain
the author had used the letters many times before and was accustomed
to writing in small script. The book was confusing to thumb through.
After a few pages though it started to make sense, even though he
could still see only nonsense characters. He went back to the first
page.
He translated the title page loosely in his mind, _being an effort to
document the control of response from experimental subjects_. As he
read the book, he found the notes documenting symbology for a proposed
language to communicate thought. This lead to discussion, he thought,
of some kind of experiment to pass ideas to others without speaking.
When he got to the end of the notebook, he vaguely understood the
symbols outlined, but concluded the book was nonsense. He was still
inclined to keep it, but couldn't say why.
"Well, what is that thing?" Betty's voice came from the door to the
kitchen.
"I think some kid was trying to write some kind of prank about their
science class, you want to look?"
"Sure," she said walking over towards him sensually, the usual fluid
wave motion her hips moved in when she walked. He still couldn't
understand how she could be so lithe and sexy, yet have no inclination
to arousal. She took the book and opened it to the first page. After
squinting and staring, her tongue lightly caressing her lips as she
obviously struggled to make out the characters.
"What language is this in?"
"I couldn't tell you. Never saw it before in my life."
"I'd say someone was doodling if it weren't so consistent and smoothly
written."
"Well, from what I can make out..."
"What!," She interrupted, "you can read this gibberish?"
"Well, kind of..."
"Oh, sure! and I'm a monkey." She was starting to show severe signs of
mad, "If you never saw anything like it before, you aren't going to
tell me you can read this!" She threw the book at him and stormed out
of the room. Seductively waving, Bob thought to himself, her little
ass all the way.
Bob sighed. Then he put the book in a storage box in his basement,
along with many other books he figured to have on shelves when they
got built. The box itself got stacked with the rest of the boxes. And
by Saturday, if Bob was asked, he wouldn't remember which.
The book had found itself a new place to hide. If a book could be
believed to have such plans and schemes.
====
A week or so later, Bob thought about the contents of the book as he
went to talk to his boss at work about getting off friday as
compensation for extra time he'd worked last month. It never worked
to ask, but he kept trying anyway.
Bob decided to try the symbols in his mind. As he walked into the
office he pushed the idea of the day off towards his boss.
"George, I'd like some of my time back from last month. I know I'm
salaried, but I keep having to work a lot of extra hours, and it's
getting to be too regular."
"Bob, you come in it seems, every other month or so with this
request." The man at the desk leaned back as if thinking it over. He
always did.
"Yes, but this is getting to be the norm rather than the exception."
Bob had decided to try this approach, but at the same time he reached
out with the book's symbols trying to impress the reasonableness of
his request.
"This time I guess I agree with you," responded George. "Just let
Marcy know. I'm not promising this will happen again though."
Surprised, but not certain how persuasive the symbols from the book
were, as opposed to how George may have simply decided to reward his
hard work, Bob stopped to talk to Marcy. Marcy, the secretary working
with George and his group, made note of the day as a compensation day.
====================++
As he walked to the mens room he thought about the results of his
experiment. It was awfully convenient, possibly coincidental. He
couldn't be sure if something had happened or not.
An extremely attractive blond, willowy figured with her hair in a bun,
and boobs, as Bob thought of them, too large for her frame and
weight, was walking the other way.
Amusing himself, Bob imagined himself reaching out with the symbols of
the book to her. Turn around, he thought, and walk to the storage room
at the end of the hall, get undressed quickly for me...
To his amazement, she smiled coyly at him, spun on her heals and
walked smoothly down the hall to the storage room. With one hand she
was unhooking her dress, the other was opening the door. Then she was
inside, and Bob was still stunned as he looked down the hall.
He warily stepped down the hall and through the still open door. The
light was still off, so he flicked the switch as he closed the door
behind him.
Before him, hands on her naked knees, sitting demurely atop her
discarded clothing, she smiled, lightly tilted her head and slowly
pushed her chin forward as if posing for a photographer.
Bob knew this woman. This was Fran from the purchasing department. He
knew she was married, and confirmed this again by looking at her ring
finger. Sure enough there were two rings, a wedding ring and an
engagement ring. Her hair still in a bun, she looked about 28 or 29
years old. Not certain how to approach this opportunity, he stood
taking in the glorious view.
"Do this often?," He finally asked feeling more than a little awkward
and uncertain.
"I just thought it would be nice to let you see how nice I look
without my clothes," then she frowned, one of those little 'how did
that happen' frowns that looks as though it would be nice to have
happen again. "I can't imagine why I've never done this for you
before. I'd be glad to undress for you any time though."
Bob crossed the room and reached out to touch her breast. Shocked and
startled she slapped his hand away. She shook an attractive finger at
him.
"Look, don't touch," was her pronouncement, "You may see everything
you want, but I'm married." She slowly got to her feet again and did
a small pirouette as he admired her tight bottom, and large tits. Her
hands caressed both the curve of her hips and the undersides of the
still firm breasts as she turned for him to look.
Bob suddenly felt vaguely guilty, taking advantage of a married woman.
But the thought quickly passed. Bob brought the symbols back into his
thoughts and pushed thoughts of being aroused towards her. He also
worked in the idea that she would like him to take care of her aroused
state.
"unggghh," she moaned lowly. This time as she turned her eyelids were
gently fluttering to half open and her tongue showed ever so slightly
between her lips. "I think, unggh, you better help me with this..."
she trailed off into another light moan.
This time as he reached out to her breast, she took his hand and led
it directly to the nipple. Fran immediately shuddered with his touch.
The heat of the act rose in his groin. Her eyes, a light blue with
touches of silver, opened wide, looking deeply into his. A groan of
ecstasy crossed her lips. Suddenly her pelvis began to thrust wildly
as she went into orgasm. Fran came quickly, before he could touch more
than her nipple, pulling and pinching it.
To Bob's disappointment, she was now coming down physically from her
sex act. He was still rising. She folded back into the
kneeling/sitting position on her clothes, panting with the look of
after sex distraction. Another light shudder from Fran gave Bob
another strong pulsation in his groin. But he could clearly see she
was spent. He figured he could make her reach that peak again, but
thought he'd like better control over the process.
He realized he didn't quite understand his new found ability yet. He
would need to try some other way to use it before he did this again.
On the other hand, he thought, Fran will make a great toy while I
learn. He smiled. In her recovery, she curled the corners of her mouth
up in an almost lecherous grin,.. almost. As one last moan seeped
out, her eyes drooped and her chin strained forward again. God!, she
really responded like dynamite, thought Bob.
"Well," she said, "I'm afraid they'll start missing me soon if I don't
get back. We'll have to find a better way to do this," she coyly
licked her lips looking at him, "I don't know what to tell Joe though,
he won't want me to leave him, but that was better than any orgasm
I've ever had before."
Whooooops, "Why do you need to tell Joe," her husband, he realized.
"Why don't we keep this our secret?"
She pouted. "Oh, but I can't let this stop, its better than I've ever
known it could be. Besides, I need you soo bad, I don't think I can go
without you now."
With this she virtually plastered her body to his and sank her tongue
into his mouth in one pulsating kiss, one hand gently caressing his
crotch through his pants. This served only to remind him that he
hadn't gotten off yet, and was very excited himself.
"Do you think you could take care of my...," he started, and realized
he had a meeting he'd be late for already. He'd miss it completely if
he continued to play. He sighed.
Instead he pushed the thoughts at her that this tryst was their
secret, only they should know about it, and she would forget about any
sexual activities with him when he wasn't around. He add the last for
fear her husband might worm it out of her anyway... as she turned to
leave, he ran his fingers across her breasts, down her side, and
carefully rubbed her bottom, sliding his middle finger along the
crack between her cheeks. Fran lightly breathed an animalistic
groan as she left.
Somewhat frustrated, but intrigued by this power, he slipped into the
meeting. For effect he projected to everyone that he'd been there all
along.
====
That night he began to dig through boxes in the basement. If he could
find the book, maybe, just maybe there was something to explain
controlling subjects better.
He dug through the boxes for almost two hours before he finally
found the book. It was as he remembered it, brown and small. He took
it up to his bedroom to examine.
The rest of the evening Bob spent studying and re-studying the book's
narration. The symbols became easier to translate, and he found
himself thinking in terms of the symbols rather than english for the
concepts. He realized it didn't matter because he was never going to
explain these concepts to anyone. The easier it became to think this
way, the more he could feel the symbols in his head.
Finally, he looked at the clock and saw it was nearly 1:00 AM. He
needed to work Thursday, and he needed sleep. Before going to sleep
he decided this book required a good safe place for keeping it. He
didn't want anyone else to see it or get a chance to read it.
The only other person that knew about it was Betty. Bob figured she'd
shown no interest, and was confused or unable to decipher the symbols.
She'd probably already forgotten it. If she ever asked, he could tell
her the book was thrown out.
It occurred to Bob that if anyone found out what he could do, there
would be problems. Notorious secret agencies and spies, etc. Suddenly
this became very frightening. He had no idea who or what would want
to have this knowledge but he could imagine many people that would
kill to get it.
He went to sleep thinking of this.
Not surprisingly, his dreams were filled with hostile agents and 'men
from the government, here to help you'. At one point, Betty was
sucking his cock and saying between licks, "now remember, I agreed to
do this if you just hand over the book." He woke up startled and
aroused. It took seconds to see that nobody was in his bedroom with
him.
He managed a shaky shower, dressed, and carefully embedded the book
back into the box in the basement. If it took him two hours to find
it there, it would be unlikely anyone else would find it quickly
burgling his house.
He ate his breakfast with abandon, and rushed off to work.
====
It was Thursday and Bob couldn't keep his mind on work. He thought
about the fun he'd had playing in the storage room with Fran the day
before. He began to wonder if he could get her there again today.
He wandered by Fran's desk, but she wasn't there. Asking after her,
he discovered she was out for the morning at a vendor site for
contract work. Disappointed, he thought about looking around the
building for another prospective subject.
After a moment though, he thought better of the idea and went back to
work. Fran was someone he'd already touched. It might be a good idea
to use only the subject he already had worked on before moving to
someone else. So instead he wrapped himself in the design he was
working up and shortly, was very involved.
After rereading a new section he'd written, he looked up and around
the office. Something different was going on in his mind today.
He looked an Randi, the brunette across the aisle from him. He could
see, at least in his mind, the book's symbols moving through her mind.
With a little effort he could make out her thoughts, piecemeal, as she
worked. A stream of ideas and actions melded together as Randi worked
her project. He wondered if he could just block them for a moment.
As as he thought of this, he tried it. He instinctively knew which
symbol to use and where to insert it. He realized after he'd done it
that he'd intended to behave himself until Fran was back. Well, after
all, my patience is thin today, he thought.
Meanwhile, Randi, had sat back and looked stumped. She started to
scowl. The same problem kept spinning in the patterns in her mind, and
every time the solution she'd been working towards came up, Bob's
symbol blocked it out. He grinned to himself, and withdrew the
symbol. She immediately smiled to herself and scrambled to commit the
solution to paper.
Bob remembered Randi at a party he'd had for the office. His house
was a mess afterwards, and she'd attended with a skinny bookish
fellow. She'd kept that guy on a short leash all night. In fact the
only time he saw the guy away from her was when he'd gone to the can.
Bob looked at Randi closely as though for the first time. Her hair was
down to her shoulders with decorative clips one either side above her
ears. Today she was wearing a trousers and blouse combination.
Faintly, through the blouse, he could see a thin bra, although he
couldn't make out her nipples. Her breasts were small, but round
enough to give her more than a boyish shape. She had dark eyes with a
thin nose nestled between and below. Her lips were moist and smooth
with just a touch of teeth or tongue occasionally showing as she
appeared to mutter to herself.
Bob checked the time. Fran wouldn't be back yet for two more hours.
Since he was toying with Randi now, well, what the heck. He started
to examine her closely to see what the symbols looked like when she
thought.
He discovered there was more than one stream of thought in process.
Apparently, most of the nervous system was passing symbols about. He
wondered that so many streams could run at once, but the conscious
stream was the strongest, most active. He tried inserting an itch
sensation into the stream from her shoulder.
Immediately, without dropping any other activity, Randi began to
scratch her shoulder. He dropped the sensation and she stopped
scratching.
Now, that was something! He pushed a tickle and tingle sensation into
her nipples. He was satisfied to see them pop visibly hard under her
blouse and bra. She took in a sharp breath but continued to work,
resisting the new urge to pay attention to the arousal of her tits.
The result seemed to enhance her state so she began to squirm a bit in
her seat. A bead of sweat rolled down to her eyebrows.
Now Bob was excited. He wanted to see if her could make her orgasm
publicly without any contact. So now he reached out into her body to
stimulate the nerves in her crotch. Without dropping the manipulation
of her tits, he moved to a sensation from the lips of her pussy, to
the clit itself, gently increasing the strength without controlling
any other body functions.
She visibly lost her concentration on the project now. Looking around
she saw Bob looking at her, and developed a look of panic. Her breath
was coming in panting rhythm and her hips had begun a slight sway. She
clearly suffered embarrassment at her sudden loss of control. He saw
her suppress a moan. He kept moving the sensations and increasing the
strength. He eyelids drooped, her tongue moistened her lips and she
began to stretch her head and neck from side to side.
Randi turned red with obvious embarrassment. Amused, Bob shot her his
best quizzical look. Her stifled moans were turning into sharp grunts.
Her hand moved to her crotch. Seemingly she struggled, twisting in
her chair a few moments, hoping to suppress the unexpected bodily
activity. It was hopeless though. She gave in to her body and slipped
the hand into her pants. Bob could only see her arm go under the
desk, but he knew exactly what she was fingering. Looking around to
see if anyone else could see, Randi gave up the idea of keeping Bob
from seeing her condition. A moment later her other hand caressed and
twisted her nipples, allowing Bob a view of her delicately red painted
fingernails.
She came with a loud thump, almost convulsively, as she suppressed as
much sound as she could, jamming her fist in her mouth, her teeth
biting down on the knuckles. The stifling little gasps and sobs that
followed were a delight to Bob's ears.
As she finished Randi hung her head to her chest, tucked her feet
under the chair spreading her knees, both hands embraced the desk
about 4 feet apart. She gasped in the air to stabilize her body. Her
hair curtained her face.
Finally, after regaining some composure, she looked up at Bob. He was
still watching her with an intensity given of a man who was horny.
"I don't know what came over me," again she flushed with embarrassment.
"I found that very exciting, myself. Do you have this happen often?"
he asked as innocently as possible. He really didn't want to give
himself away. Looking at the clock, he realized that this had only
used 15 minutes of the 2 hours before Fran returned. An hour and
three quarters remained. Should he take Randi, certainly not here,
but should he take her, too?
"You certainly got a cheap thrill at my expense then, didn't you?!" she
snapped, anger rising in her.
"Don't blame me, I never touched you or even got close."
"Yeah," she eased back. "I guess I lost control. That never happened
to me before!"
"You have a boyfriend?, I mean do you get enough or maybe do you get
excited sensually by yourself when you aren't getting any?"
"I just broke up with John. I don't need to, um, get any, to be just
fine thank you." That did it. He looked for the stream from her eyes
and added a touch of excitement to it whenever she looked his way.
Just a touch.
"Well, I can't figure it out, but I really liked watching you."
"Look you, I don't need you watching me masturbate at work," then she
looked at him again, and this time she half lurched. "on the other
hand..." She had that look of realization cross her face. That look
someone gets as if seeing something they've seen before in a whole new
light. "Um, let's not talk about this now, okay?"
"Okay." he replied. "Instead, let's find a place to fuck."
"Whatever do you think I am!?," He reached under her conscious
controls and planted suggestions to meet him in the storage room in 5
minutes. "Some kind of whore? You animal , Bob, you'd better leave me
alone or so help me, you'll never hear the end of this."
"Okay Randi, but don't blame me if you can't control those spontaneous
orgasms. You did so well with that last one, I hardly noticed. By the
way, I'll try the storage room and wait there for you."
Humiliated by her own body, she turned away from him in anger. He just
got up and walked down the hall to the storage room to wait. "You'll
wait a long time," she called out to him.
Shortly after he'd closed the door, Randi came storming in. He tried
to look a little surprised, after all she thought he'd been told off.
"What are you doing?," she demanded.
"What do you mean?" Again he reached under the conscious level and
instructed her body to find the clothing very uncomfortable in his
presence.
"Whatever makes you think I'd want to screw a twerp like you!?" That
stung, but he was in control of what her body was doing, she was still
only acting out rage at being caught in a public orgasm.
She turned towards the door. Instead of exiting though, she took off
her shoes and started unbuttoning the pants.
Bob reached around her and began to play with her nipples through the
blouse. He tweaked the body controls to prevent her from stopping him.
Her body went loose from the arousal.
"You are making it difficult to undress, jerk. Why am I undressing?"
She was startled to find her body was still not following the
conscious decisions she made to avoid this encounter.
He withdrew his hands and took off his clothing, then locked the door.
It hadn't occurred to him anyone would bother them, but what the heck.
"I really don't want to do this Bob." Randi continued to protest as
she fondled his now rigid manhood.
"Your lying. Now maybe since you used the term, I'll just call you a
whore when we're in private."
She was clearly stunned at the abusive tone he'd begun to take. But
she knelt down and tenderly licked his prick. Rubbing the flat sides
of her teeth along the length of it she also began playing with his
balls.
"You must be some kind of whore, or you wouldn't have come straight
here to be fucked" Bob reiterated, pushing the humiliation buttons in
her head too. She opened her beautiful moist lips and engulfed the
head of his penis. Although not 'hung' as porn stars, Bob had a good
sized cock, about 6+7 inches long, but thicker than most. She
struggled trying to get it all the way back to her throat. He could
feel her tongue wrapping lightly around the glans as she closed her
eyes and tried to vacuum an eruption from him.
Bob could feel motion build inside himself as he pressed her head
against his cock. Her lips and teeth continued to reach for the root
of the organ, and he could see that she was starting to become aroused
again herself.
He pulled out of her mouth.
"Stand up, lean against the shelves over there." He pointed out a low
shelf that would force her into a bent in the middle position.
"No fucking way, you animal, I don't want to do this with you."
"I'm not keeping you here, by all means leave," he lied. She could no
more leave now than he could fly. She couldn't tell that though.
Meekly, she assumed the position he suggested.
"Okay, but try not to hurt me." she was resigned to this performance.
He had to do something to perk her up, so he planted the same raging
heat in her that made her come at her desk. "hnuhn" came moaning from
her now as he touched her. He guided his prick into her cunt while
she clutched the shelf with her hands. A throaty, "yesssss" rewarded
his penetration. He began to pump away, slowly at first and then
faster. She continued to "yesss" and "unngg ooooh, plleeeease" as he
thrust in again and again. He reached under her as his hips whacked
her ass, and found her little tits.
A sharp twist of the nipples generated another series of outrageous
moaning from his personal whore. She began to come. Her pelvis humped
as hard as it could against his manhood. She suppressed the scream
into an almost barking cough, but he didn't let up. He forced her body
right back into aroused state by pushing the correct symbols back in
place. Already exhausted, she pumped with the adrenaline of another
rising orgasm.
Up from his scrotum built a liquid fire sensation that he'd never felt
before. He didn't stop pumping the liquid fire into her for what
seemed like forever. He finally pulled out washed with pleasure and
joy. That was his first fuck in almost a year.
"Happy you scum?" She was flushed with that freshly fucked look, but
still was hostile consciously about what was happening. He found that
exciting too.
"Lick me clean, whore." She shook her head, but to her own amazement
was soon carefully washing his cock and balls of her juices and his
come, with her tongue.
"I don't know why I did this with you," she worked in between licks,
"But you better not tell anyone or so help me..."
"Come to my house after work tomorrow." He answered. He simply added
this as an unconscious command rather than justify himself verbally.
This could be real fun. I gotta do Fran today too, he thought.
"No fuckin' way, bastard," she continued to lick. He was up again and
pulled her face into his prick. She opened her mouth and took it in
again with a little maneuvering. Her tongue felt good working the
seam on the bottom, and before he knew it, the come spurted into her
mouth, and as he pulled out, all over her face.
"Now look what you've done!" she snapped.
"Hard to avoid with your pretty little whore face. Before you leave
hadn't you better get dressed." She snarled in his general direction
as she pulled on her pants. He walked up behind her while she snapped
them closed, and took the opportunity for another grasp at those lovely
little tits. "You also best admit you are my whore to use, or everyone
in the office will hear, and maybe several others will take turns
too."
She blanched. "I,uh,I..." She realized she couldn't let anyone know
she'd done this. She might lose her job. How could she have allow Bob
the liberties he'd just taken with her?
"Come on slut, you can say it. Tell me you're my property and you
really want to be my whore."
"Fuck you!" she was confused still over her bodily responsiveness.
"Tut tut, you could be in the sack with someone really repulsive if
you keep that up."
"I'm your fuckin' whore, goddamnit"
"Not good enough, bitch." He waited, brutally twisting her nipples now
to stress the point. He could see the shot of pain/pleasure rise
through her chest to her throat. To her astonishment the humiliation
was beginning to excite her too. She couldn't tell this had been Bob's
doing also.
"I'm your whore, your personal slut." she finally got out in a demure,
half seductive, half aroused voice.
"Fine, I'll expect you at seven tomorrow. Come dressed nicely." She
slipped away finally and Bob pulled his own clothes on. He relished
the thought of having Randi and Fran at his beck and call.
====
He stopped by Purchasing that afternoon. Randi had been avoiding his
eyes since this morning, but he knew she'd show up Friday night. It
was time to get Fran in line as well.
This time the blond was sitting at her desk. Her lovely lips moved as
she spoke into the phone. He could make out her nipples through the
blouse and bra she wore. He slipped up behind her and leaned across
her shoulders. Her cleavage was unstable as she moved her shoulders
back so he'd get a better view. She smiled up at him and licked her
lips as she spoke to someone apparently chasing a Purchase Order.
He could easily make out his control symbols imposed on her
personality. Yesterday, he'd been pretty clumsy with the process,
but today he could see more subtle paths to manipulate the responses.
He spent a few minutes adjusting her view of him as her secret lover,
and her assumptions about what he was entitled to do. Of course, he
left the control that she'd forget about all this when not with him.
He looked around. Her low cubical walls wouldn't hide much, but no one
was around. He slid his hand inside and down the back of her skirt,
slipping a finger into the crack of her ass. She frantically looked
around to reassure herself no one was watching, but kept talking on the
phone.
After fingering Fran for a moment, with the delight catches in her
breath while she spoke on the phone, Bob decided they should retire to
a more private location. He scribbled a note, 'when you get free,
call me'. Before he left he gently palmed both of her breasts and
tweaked the nipples, this elicited a moan she had to cover the phone
to conceal. She looked at the note and nodded.
He wanted to take her right there while she was on the phone, those
big tits were so damned tempting, and the idea of putting her through
the paces while talking on the phone really turned him on. He would
wait though until she called. He went back to his desk.
Shortly the phone rang. Fran for certain.
"Hiya," nope it was Betty. "I need to you remember to get some glue
for that project I'm working on."
"Right, uh, Betty could you come by on Saturday instead of tomorrow
night," he had completely forgotten their date, "something came up."
"Well, if you say so, what's doing?"
"Um, I gotta see Ben," yeah that's it, "He's going to help me rebuild
the speakers for my stereo."
"Oh." the pause wasn't too long, "Okay, be there in the morning then.
Ta!" Click!
Before he could pin down when she'd come by, she'd disconnected. Shit.
He wasn't sure he wanted to adjust her to conceal knowledge of his new
pets. He was beginning to suspect the adjustments should be much more
subtle than he'd managed so far... then the phone range again.
"Hello?"
"Bob, this is Fran," she didn't sound too busy to provide the service
he needed now. "Why am I supposed to call you?"
Ooops, he thought.
"We're supposed to meet this afternoon." he waited with concern.
"Why?, I don't handle purchases for your group any more. And there's
nothing on this note to indicate we were to meet."
Bob suppressed a rising panic. The symbols had failed to hold! Wait!
the instructions she was given were valid when they were together! She
just didn't see them being together right now, so of course she was
forgetting everything. He tried to reach out over to her through the
phone. All he could sense was a wisp of the symbols, and even that
wasn't over the phone, it was through the building... What to do?
"Tell you what, I'll come to your desk and explain it to you."
"That'll do, bring the paperwork for whatever this is about, and we'll
figure out who should really be taking care of you." click! He'd show
her who should take care of him!
"Hey Randi," he called across to the brunette. She looked up, somewhat
apprehensive, remembering her unwilling pleasure that morning. "Look
after my phone for a while, I'm going to see someone in purchasing."
She nodded. For the sake of the leisure fun of it he inserted a
suggestion in her to slip off to the woman room to masturbate again,
thinking of course of him. He stopped at her desk a moment, long
enough to see her eyes pick up the lustful droop and her nipples
harden up in response. She looked up at him.
"Oh no," she had a bit of panic as well as lust in her voice, "Bob,
its happening again" this last she whispered, but followed with a
moan.
"Maybe you better go to the can for some privacy this time, whore."
She scrambled to her feet and started down the corridor. He could
see her buns squeezing together in spasms of anticipation.
When he got to Fran's desk, she had on a pair of glasses and was
gripping a pencil between her luscious lips as she typed at her
terminal. Seeing him, her eyes widened, the pencil dropped, and she
reached up to take off the glasses.
"Leave them on," he told her, "they look sexy. Now, why don't you get
us a nice private conference room for the next hour." She smiled,
nodded and started calling the secretary that booked the conference
rooms.
While she did this Bob concentrated on another problem. He needed to
implant some code that he could use on the phone to get her attention.
He did so, using a phrase that would seem to make sense to anyone
that overheard, "purchase order 002x". Fit her job, somewhat, but bore
no resemblance to a real PO number.
He saw several other people working in her area now, so he would have
to wait until they reached the conference room to play. Bob clasped
his hands behind his back and waited patiently. Soon Fran's phone
calls came up with a private site.
"Mr Gunderson is out of town today. His secretary took the day off
and his office is listed as available to the end of the day. I took
the liberty of reserving it for the rest of the day..." She looked to
him for approval.
"I'll meet you there in 5 minutes." as he walked away, she cleaned up
the task she'd been working on before he'd gotten to her.
The walk to Gunderson's office took him past the women's room. He
paused and listened. He could hear Randi clearly making herself come
again. She was talking to herself though, "fuck that bastard, how dare
he use me like that, uhnng! uhnnng! uhnng!, who does, uhnng!, he think
he is?...unhhnhg!! God he was good!, nnnng unnggg innna aaaaah!"
He pulled open the door and called in, "Only a whore makes so much
noise, right Randi?"
"uhnhhg!," came the response.
He continued on.
When he got to Gunderson's office one of the other secretaries
unlocked the door for him. She was familiar, but he'd no idea who she
was. Nice legs, he thought, I like the twinkle in her eyes. Behave, he
told himself, Fran will be here soon.
As if to make the point, he saw her down the hall now. She'd left her
glasses on, nice touch. Her legs were visible from the knees down.
Today she had on a short skirt, a fairly flimsy white blouse, and the
nicest red high heel shoes. He reflected a moment on how nice Fran's
legs looked while she wore high heels. Come to think of it, she had
some really attractive ankles too. Good choice of toy, even if he'd
selected her as much by accident as anything else.
She stepped into the office ahead of him, snarling a little. "yes,
this should do." With a wave of her hand she dismissed the secretary,
who wandered down to the desk at the end of the hall as he watched.
"You can't have both of us you know," he heard her say. If only she
knew. Of course he could. But he was going to wait until he had this
power under complete control before he added anyone else to his toy
chest.
He stepped in and closed the door.
"Darling, I could hardly wait to see you again." She stepped forward
assuming perfectly her role as secret lover. "Do you still like what
you see?" Her face smoothly adopted an approval begging pout. Her
tongue licking her lips, with anticipation. She brushed back a wisp
of silky blond hair and sulkily drew her fingers down her neck, along
her collar bone to the valley between her boobs. Then she traced a
path with her her palm over the right tit, finishing by drawing her
hand down the sleek side of her body to her hip.
She stood in the middle of a large office with drawn blinds, a big
clean oak desk, and to one side was a couch suitable to the exercise
they would soon perform. The lush carpeting made the room very still.
He appreciated that immediately.
He walked around her slowly, admiring her large bust, and tight tush.
She stood posed for him, arms at her side palms out, elbows in. Her
long slender legs were only slightly parted, with her left knee bent
as though she was waiting for a photographer.
"Remain standing like that." He felt somewhat inspired by this goddess
vision before him. Her tits thrust forward so the little points and
the surrounding circles of her nipples stood out through her blouse
and bra. With a single finger he reached out to the left breast and
flicked the tip offered to him. The nipple rose further against the
restraining cloth.
"ooohh," she licked her lips again as her eyes faded to passion.
Whispering she uttered, "god, I love your touch."
"Move an inch and I'll have to punish you." Stepping behind her, he
hiked up her dress to her waist. He could see the cheeks of her ass
twitching from the hairsbreadth contact he'd made. Her breath caught
as he traced circles lazily on her right cheek over her panties.
"I don't like you wearing underwear when we meet." She flushed red for
a moment.
"Yes, lover. I'll remember to take them off before we meet next time."
He smiled at her response.
"And perhaps you should refer to me as Master, rather than Lover."
"But Bob," he waved her to silence.
"NO buts!, what I say goes, do we understand each other?"
"Yes master." She smiled but kept her stance as he had commanded
earlier.
Pulling the elastic of her panties and stockings back, he slid his
right hand down along the crack between her ass cheeks. Standing at
her left shoulder he could see her chin quiver with excitement at his
touch.
"What do we have here, toy?" She shuddered at this description of her
station.
"My ass.... master." Her head started to droop to her chest, but she
remembered before he said anything. Her head snapped back up, but her
eyes remained faded away as he touched her. He began to work his
middle finger into her asshole. She squeaked.
"Master, no I, uh, I don't like being touched there." She remained
true to her instructions but a strong apprehensive look came over her
face. Bob reached out with the symbols to the stream from her ass. He
could see it in his mind, she was only receiving pain messages from
the pucker his finger had invaded. He adjusted the stream a bit so
the pleasant sensations, which were there but blocked, became far
stronger. The pain sensations ebbed completely on their own. For a
moment, Bob allowed himself to be pleased with what he'd learned.
"unhh, ooh!" Fran muttered as she began now to thrust her anus onto
his finger. "God! give me more, I beg master, fuck me, I need to
coooommee...."
Still standing poised as though for a picture, Fran looked delectable
this way. All Bob had was two knuckles up her ass, yet she was visibly
shaking, having a hell of a time keeping her breasts jutting out and
hands open and out at her side. He could see her legs trying to raise
and drop her bottom onto his teasing finger, as she also tried to
squeeze her thighs together to get relief for her crotch as well. He
rather enjoyed the way her tongue kept trying to hang from the corners
of her mouth, and the bobbing motion her head had begun to make.
He withdrew his finger.
"Oh, pleease master, I want to come." She panted.
"Well, I think you can wait." He sat down on the edge of the couch,
and listened to her ravaged breathing as she stood before him, still as
he commanded. "Undress for me, slowly."
She moved gracefully to face him and began by unbuttoning her skirt.
After this dropped to the floor, she undid the buttons on her blouse,
one by one, watching him the entire time. Standing before him in her
Bra, panties, stockings and high heeled shoes, she lifted one leg at a
time to remove the shoes. Turning away, and looking at him over her
shoulder, she began to remove the straps of her bra, then undid the
clasp, dropping it well to one side before turning. She showed him the
huge, fleshy breasts, holding one in each hand, pinching her own
nipples between thumbs and forefingers. Awkwardly, she stepped out of
the panties and stockings last.
"Now come over here, undo my pants and blow me." She knelt down
between his legs and with both hands, with worshipful tenderness
unzipped his pants, pulling out his dick. As she held his cock in her
hand it became harder than it already had been. Now Bob leaned back as
she wrapped her lips briefly around the tip and licked the underside
of the head.
"Oh, yeah baby. That's what I need, some tender affection to my prick.
ahhhh." Her mouth began to engulf more of the object of her new desire
each time she leaned forward until he had struck the rear teeth. "Open
wider bitch, get it all down!" he commanded.
"MMMrgph!" was her only reply as her fingers worked the base of his
prick, and aroused his balls. She drove the cock into her throat. Wide
as his prick was, this was far less than an easy task. He saw her
determined look as her tongue finally started to wash his flopping
balls and upper lip reached the root of his cock. She began to pump
up and down, three, four time, pause, pump again.
"Ungh!, Ungh!, Ungh!, " he uttered with each stroke. As his come
started to rise in his balls he stopped her, "Up." he commanded.
Staggering to his feet he arranged her on the floor, shapely legs
parted for his entry, and had her grasp her knees. He entered Fran
for the first time to the sound of her groaning pleasure.
"ooohhh, god, oohh, god, oh, god!" she moaned and made animalistic
guttural grunts as he thrust his meat as deep as he could manage. She
was tight enough for him to feel a grip to her. But her cunt was also
soaking wet by now.
Her pelvis was pulsing with his motions now as much as she could
manage without losing him. She clearly wanted to scream as she clamped
her teeth down on her hand. Bob could feel Fran's orgasm come in a
shuddering quake that started at her crotch and expanded to encompass
her entire body. Once she'd come though, she kept moving, building
another from the ashes of the last... His orgasm started to build too,
and as she approached her second, his cock loosed a torrent of come
into her dripping hot cunt. He smothered her lips with his, forcing
his tongue past hers to explore those pearly teeth she'd been licking
to entice him earlier.
She came again squealing into his mouth as he finished, pounding
against the floor so hard, Bob was certain someone would hear and
investigate. But he was to far gone to care about interruptions now.
He rolled off and looked at this woman, glowing with joy and sexual
pleasure. She struggled, staggering a bit, to her knees and began to
suck him again, cleaning the fluids off as she went. To his surprise,
this made his cock rise from retirement. He enjoyed the sensations her
tongue, lips and teeth gave him until he was stiff as when he first
entered her.
"Now, you will remain kneeling but lower your shoulders to the floor."
He moved to his knees and worked around behind her. Juices from her
cunt had dribbled down to her ass pucker, she wouldn't need much more
moisture, especially since she'd lubricated his cock with her mouth.
He spread her cheeks and began rubbing her anus with his cock's
tip. This aroused her a bit. Just as his finger had earlier, now that
he'd 'adjusted' her response. Bob grinned to himself.
As he pressed the head of his penis into her ass, she moaned into the
rug. It took work to move in, even with her help, but inch by inch he
slid into her ass. "no, aaahh, no, yessssss," she groaned. "my god, I
can't believe I'm getting it up up up... mmmmunnnngh, my, goddam ass!"
He finally drove the last inch home, she lifted her head in surprise
and pleasure. He started the first pull back and she started to cry
out "More, pleeassee fuck my ass, god yesss god yesss god yesss!" and
he built up the speed, little at a time.
She moved her hand to her clit and rubbed her pussy lips as well.
Leaning against her right ear, she used her other hand to pull and
pinch her nipple on the left side. She shuddered with orgasm, and
stifled the scream for another. Bob could tell another was
coming soon.
Bob had built up to his own release by now. The heat in his loins was
strong and rising. The pressure was pushing, and the tightness of her
butt was pure heaven. Coming in her ass with a stream of jism, he
grunted his own pleasure in thumping motions.
Pulling out was a sensation in pleasure too, his cock felt like it was
being milked for any extra drops left in the tip. He drew aside on the
couch, still panting, and admired the cum dripping down Fran's legs.
Fran cleaned herself and sank into the couch beside Bob. She snuggled
in like an adolescent lover, and radiated an after sex joy he hadn't
seen a woman display for quite some time. Bob just relaxed and
enjoyed her proximity, playing from time to time with her nipples.
Checking his watch, Bob realized the work day was at an end and
someone might interrupt at any time. Instructing Fran to get dressed,
he thought about his plans for the weekend.
"Fran, listen carefully."
"Yes master!"
"Tomorrow evening, you will find an excuse to leave home. I want you
at my house promptly at 6:30 PM. Got that!?"
"Yes master." She pouted for a moment, then grinned. "My girlfriends
are having a party. I'll be gone most of the night I guess."
"Very good. Do you have any good slutty clothing?"
"I don't know what you mean, I don't have slutty things."
Of course she wouldn't he thought. "Do you own any slinky seductress
outfits? Perhaps a french maid outfit?"
"Oh yes master!" She positively beamed, her pink tongue slightly
touching her lips in anticipation.
"Bring them with you tomorrow. Tidy this place up before you leave,
and remember we had a very productive meeting if anyone should ask..."
Silently, he reinforced his instructions underneath her conscious
mind and slipped out of the office.
He was delighted with the results of his new powers so far, now if
only it works as well on Betty. But Friday night was going to be
delightful, possibly exhausting as well.
====
More soon. _A Weekend by the Book_, if/when I get to it.
-Blackie
--
I will ignore all requests for: reposts, e-mailing parts, ftp/gif/archive
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From: laff@sal.cs.uiuc.edu (Joshua A Laff)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: ARCHIVE: the-book-2.Z
Message-ID: <2tuaec$br0@vixen.cso.uiuc.edu>
Date: 18 Jun 1994 08:15:08 GMT
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This story is another from the archives, and is not written by me.
Requests for just about anything concerning these posts will be ignored.
See the FAQ in a.s.s.d for more information. And stop sending talk
requests. Even when I'm logged in to this posting site, I usually
have the window closed, and if I don't, it's because I'm WORKING
From: an21262@anon.penet.fi (Blackie)
Date: Thu, 3 Jun 1993 23:01:28 GMT
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Repost: A Weekend by the Book Pt 1
Reposted per requests...
This is more of _The Book_ mind control story, pure adolescent fantasy.
m/f, f/f non-consensual (no violence)
_A Weekend by the Book_
section (a)
Those wonderful, slightly chill mornings with the birds chirping
noisily outside his bedroom window always made Bob want to stay in
bed. The silky touch of his comforter against his naked legs was a
sensual pleasure he enjoyed almost as much as sex itself. He hadn't
opened his eyes yet, and wasn't sure he wanted to.
He was lingering over the dream he'd had as he awoke, a dream in soft
cushioned heavens with a soft supple woman he'd never seen before.
Literally an angel, wings although no halo, she'd taken him to the
peaks of ecstasy in his dream. He could remember a ledge, and
clouds, but very little else. The haze of passing dream memory made
her even more attractive as his wakening mind tried to recreate the
lushness of their acts together.
He finally rose from bed, and happily relished the fact of today as a
holiday. Looking at the clock, he could tell he'd slept a sinful
extra half hour to almost 8:00 AM.
He leaned against the wall in the shower. The water flowed in little
waterfalls over his shoulders, arms, and chest. This sensation also
gave a smooth relief of pleasure, while he reflected back on the
preceding day's activities. He wanted to believe it wasn't all a
dream, along with the angelic visitor of his sleep. He knew it wasn't
because despite the free fall way his life had become, he could see
the symbols. The Book's symbols. He saw the passage of the symbols
along his own legs and arms, even the tiny streams along the surface
of his skin. They paralleled the streams of water, glistening in the
morning light.
He finished the shower knowing today would be another shining wonder
in his life.
Bob dressed in his jeans and a tee-shirt, ate breakfast, and cleaned
the mess from breakfast. It was about 9:00 and he needed to run some
errands at the stores and the mall.
==========
He did some grocery shopping first. The supplies were to last him the
next week, but Bob wanted to be prepared for the possible activities,
so he stocked up more heavily than usual. After he paid, it occurred
to him, payment was totally unnecessary. He was glad he'd paid
anyway.
After unloading the groceries at home, he grabbed his speakers,
shoved them in the car and drove to his friend Ben's stereo repair
shop. They'd been performing poorly for a month or so. He hadn't
meant to get them fixed today, but his lie to Betty had to be made
good.
He went in the store from the back door. Ben owned the shop, although
he was the service expert as well. None of his employees could hold a
candle to his talents with electronics. Ben was proud of his high
school buddy.
"Ben," Bob's friend was about 6 feet tall, 4 inches shorter than Bob,
with a dark complexion and a pudgy tummy. "how long to fix these?"
"Bob! Let's see," He picked up one of the boxes, "It'll take a while
to get you an estimate, you know that?"
"Yeah, well, I've got a woman coming over tonight," he looked around
quickly and gave Ben one of those 'manly' knowing looks, "it's not
Betty and I don't want her to know. I told her you were going to help
me with these..."
"Geeze Bob", shaking his head, Ben opened the backs of the speakers
to examine them, "you know I'll help if I can, but man, I don't know
whats wrong without checking these out first."
"I know, I know. Just tell me what you can do."
"So your working on two babes at once, eh?"
"Well, let's just say I've lucked into some nice ass while Betty is
stringing me along..."
"You know, if you're horny, we can work something out with Janet."
Janet was Ben's wife. Ben and Janet had an open arrangement, partly
because Ben got off on seeing his wife with another man. Bob hadn't
liked the idea before, especially since Janet really didn't like Bob
much. He wasn't sure why, he figured it had something to do with Bob
dragging Ben off to poker games occasionally. "I know she doesn't
like you much, but if I talk to her, she'll do just about anything."
"Actually Ben, I think I could talk her into spreading for me without
your help. I'm just not so sure its a real good idea."
Ben snorted out a laugh. He'd gotten both speakers open by now, and
had to step back while laughing so as to avoid damage.
"Forgive me Bob," he wiped his eyes and suppressed, badly, the huge
grin creeping across his face. "Janet would do it if I asked, not for
any other reason. I've had to put up with her bitching about you."
"Oh?" Ben was curious, "What IS her complaint with me anyway?"
"She thinks you are not good enough to be my friend. She keeps
telling me you haven't got enough class, you abuse our friendship,
you spend too much time drinking and crap like that." Well, at least
the drinking wasn't true.
"So?, why'd she marry you then?, you and I move in the same circles,
so to speak."
"I dunno. She fell head over heels in love or lust or somethin'."
"I'll tell you what Ben. I'll bet you double or nothing the cost of
the repair, I go to your house and fuck her silly while you wait
here."
"You think so!? I'll bite, what's the gimmick? You get some film of
her doing something you can blackmail her with? Fat chance!"
"Nothing like it. I'll even get her to call you to talk while I'm
making her, how's that?"
"Oh, man, I'd love that. I'd fix your speakers for nuthin' just for
the opportunity to watch or listen to her being humped, and you know
it. It ain't gonna happen though."
"Okay, you got it! I'm on my way."
"You sure you don't want me to call her first? She really doesn't like
you much. I wasn't kidding."
"I don't care if she throws darts at my photo in your wedding pics.
She'll beg for a repeat performance when you get home."
"Shit." was the last word from Ben before Bob left.
Bob glowed inside with the knowledge he couldn't lose this bet, and
Ben wouldn't be hurt by his project. Every encounter gave him extra
valuable knowledge, and this would be no different.
===========
Bob got to Ben's house at 10:20 AM. The house was an old two story,
fairly attractive in light blue. Bob smiled at the sight of the white
picket fence around the yard. The house was on a corner and he'd
never quite got into the habit of walking all the way around the
corner to the front gate. He usually parked around the side by the
back of the house.
Once again, he jumped the fence. Musing, he figured this was easily
another influence effecting why Janet didn't like him as any.
He walked through the back porch door, and rang the bell next to the
kitchen door. Reaching out, he could feel the symbols down the
basement. She was coming up the stairs, he judged, and had seen him
jump the fence through the basement window. He could feel her ankles
rise and drop climbing each step. She radiated symbols strongly
shouting 'disapproval'.
The door opened, and there, in a glorious ray of sunlight, stood
Janet. She was about 5 foot 8 inches. Her slightly auburn hair was
nicely set off by her freckles. She had a hostile frown on her plush
lips and the wrinkles around her eyes show more concern than he'd
remembered being there. Dressed in a sweat suit for house work, he
could only see some of her curves he had admired in the past. He
knew her chest was larger than her frame would suggest, and her
slender legs rivaled those of the best dancers. He was somewhat
curious as to the color of pubic hair in the past, and figured he'd
find out today for certain.
The moment taken up by reflection passed. She began an irritated
pout, and brushed back her hair.
"So Bob!" she spurted out. "To what do I owe this visit? I know you're
aware that Ben is at work."
He stepped past her, and he spoke, "I know, just came from his shop. I
never did find out why you let him work there, since you guys have all
that money from your father." She followed him to the living room,
where as Bob recalled, there was a perfectly comfortable lounge chair
with a phone on the table next to it. Excellent, he thought.
"He needs to work, to keep his hands busy, you know that." snarling.
"Yep," he grinned lecherously, "keeps his hands off you, I'm sure."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I made a bet with Ben, that I'd seduce you today."
She stared dumbstruck at him for a minute, then laughed hysterically.
Bob just waited, knowing with his new talent, nothing she did would
stop him from taking her. She finally collapsed in the chair, and
calmed herself a bit.
"You know, even if you had any chance before," she still giggled
between words, "you couldn't do it now that you've warned me. You
might as well leave now."
"I don't think there'll be a problem. Before you know it, you'll want
me in you so bad you won't care about the bet at all."
"You're pretty sure of yourself for someone so full of shit." she
crossed her arms over her chest, allowing him some view of the curves
concealed by the sweat shirt. "You are beginning to get me pissed, and
believe me, that ain't gonna help a sorry little sot like you get
anywhere." She grinned in a sadistic manner, "besides I've screwed
just about everyone else Ben knows, at his request I might add, and he
has never, thank the heavens, asked me to do anything with you. If he
does, it will be the first and only time I refuse. It might be the
grounds for our divorce, happy though he makes me otherwise." It was
clear she thought she'd stung him.
Bob finally started exerting some changes in the thought streams her
body was using. As he laughed back, he insinuated the tendrils of
pleasure up through her thighs and along the back of her neck.
"I think you will shortly find your opinion unreliable, even for your
own judgment of your own actions..." He reached directly to the nerve
streams her groin used and slid the symbols in that caused sexual
heat to rise from within. "Shall we get started or would you like to
deny your own body's lust a while longer?"
She twisted head to the side a bit, gritting her teeth. "How do you
expect me to be aroused by such a lousy approach?"
"Actually, I've suspected for some time you want me. You always react
hostily to me, but I always suspected you want to cajole me into
sexual action with you. Ben may have his desires, this struck me as
one of yours." Of course, he knew she was being aroused by his mental
manipulation of her nervous system, but he wanted her consciousness to
believe she'd simply suppressed her desires.
"You're nuts," by this time he'd sent a few tingles through her cunt
lips, and clit, she was twisting in the lounge chair trying not to
show her arousal, "you are imagining things. <unggh>"
Bob began to undress. His penis was nestled, retracted, in amongst his
balls. As the hanging silence became more pronounced, he knelt before
her, and pulled her running shoes off. By now, her head was lolling
back and a few drops of sweat were rolling off her forehead. He could
make out the pale bottom of her chin as he rolled her sweat pants down
her legs. "Unngh oooohh," she loosed the groans with reluctant
acknowledgment of her heightened state of arousal. Her panties, a
pale pink frilly pair, wet and smelling uniquely of woman, came off
through his administration next.
"I can't, aahh, be so, eeaa, so hot, gggnnn, hot from arggggg, arguing
with yyyaaahhh, you.... oh god yes" he was gently tickling the lips of
her pussy with his fingers. He had a fine view now of her luscious
slender legs, which were stretching out to point the toes in pulsing
motions. "ggnnnnggoooood, oooohhh mooorre"
He lifted the sweat shirt up over her breasts. Delightfully, her
melon sized boobs were unencumbered by a bra. The lovely freckles,
so attractive on her countenance, also graced the pale skin of her
tits. He could almost see little circles form by the little dots
as the two orbs bounced and wobbled from the motions Janet was now
making.
"Lift your arms." She did as instructed and he pulled off the top over
her head. Her hair, fell through the neck of the sweat shirt, almost
in slow motion, gliding across her smooth, naked shoulders. He felt
his own arousal as his prick began to stiffen.
"Oh Bobbbb," she had now yielded to his physical advances. He stroked
the nipples of one tit, watching it grow to attention as he sucked
the other nipple into his mouth, teasing it inside with his tongue.
"oh yessss, suck me, suck suck suck... me" her lithe fingers stroked
through his hair, smoothing the errant strays while pulling, and
sinking his head into the breast he was attacking. He blocked the
orgasm he saw developing in her, coming mostly from the stimulation
of her breasts.
He had a call to make first.
"Mmnnph!," he pulled back against the pressure of both of her arms
now. God!, she's strong, he thought. "pick up the phone, call Ben."
"Unnh, don't stop. don't don't." she muttered, apparently at the brink
but unable to breach the barrier. "why, inuhhhh, call Ben? just fuck
me, oh god please fuck me...unng.."
"Don't you think he'd like to hear you coming?" He clamped his finger
and thumb tightly on her nipple, twisting sharply <nnng, uuuuuuahhh>.
He could see she was expecting that to send her over, but instead it
just sent her pelvis into deeper thrusts, seeking cock that hadn't
been inserted yet. Her fulfillment would wait a touch longer.
She fumbled, and between grunts and moans, managed to dial the
number. She strained her eyes open and closed as the other end rang.
And when the voice answering was not Ben, she struggled to suppress
the sounds her throat was forcing past her tongue.
"Hi, <ahemmm> this is Janet, can I <cough> speak with my husband."
She barely managed to contain her voice as Bob pulled her legs up
over the arms of the chair and began to slide his hand over her ass.
She shouldn't bother hiding her activities, he thought. Everyone who
works with Ben knows how you two operate. "unghh!, please, unhgg,
ooohhh pleeease!"
"Hello, <grnnnt> Ben?," the voice seemed to confirm it, "Bob is here,
and he tells me, ugnngh, you guys made a bet of ooaaah, some kind...
uh uh uh uh" Bob had inserted two fingers in her cunt and was
starting to thrust them.
"Here," she panted as she held out the phone, "he wants <rrrrggggh> to
talk, mmmmmm, to you."
"Bob!?, Bob!?, Bob!?"
"Yup," Bob had to exert a measure of self control to keep from
breathing heavily into the phone, "she's hot to trot, ready for
fucking. How would you like me to take her?"
"I don't believe,... never mind! I don't care, I just want to hear
her while she's coming!" Ben responded.
"Okay, you listen, she'll hold the phone to her throat..."
He handed the phone back to Janet. Obedient to the instructions, she
pinned the phone where the receiver would pick up every throaty sound
she loosed.
"Okay Janet, since Ben hasn't got a preference, and you're so convinced
I can't get in your pants, how do you want it?"
"Oh Bob, I uh uh uh, I'm sorry, uh uh uh, fuck me Bob, fuck me! please
fuck me! god!! fuck fuck fuck, pleeeese."
He worked himself up into position to enter, and in a single lunge,
thrust the length of his cock deep inside her. "OooooooOH!" was her
immediate response. As he thrust, he let himself come pretty quickly,
a fountain of come flooding freely through his prick. He kept pounding
to her thumping grunts and slowly released the block on her orgasm,
causing her building heat to rise higher still.
"YESSSS!, YES YES YES YES, oh FUCK SHIT FUCK GOD!" she screamed,
completely without restraint as the sensation drew her on. In one
final screaming pitch, she pounded up and down so hard, he thought the
chair was creaking louder than it should. She released completely with
an ear piercing primal scream.
She lay panting frantically on the chair as he stood up. She was
clearly used up, needing to recover before she could even speak. The
sweat dripped into a puddle on the chairs arms, head rest, back and
elsewhere, competing with the puddle of sexual juices by her ass.
"Hello? Hello?" squawked from the phone. Bob picked it up. Janet was
in no condition to do so.
"Ben, you still there."
"Goddamn, I wet my pants." came Ben's voice calmly as though he'd
dropped a screw driver.
"Well, you lose the bet lad."
"I guess so, who'd of guessed."
"Talk to you later."
"Later." and the phone clicked as Ben hung up.
Janet just sat there, eyes closed, panting, helpless before him. Bob
enjoyed this view and toyed with her hair while he stood beside her.
"We'll do this again won't we Janet?" She opened her eyes and looked
at him with astonishment. Gulping, she straightened up a bit.
"I h-h-hope so. I'd never would've thought you'd be the best sex I'd
ever had. I want more, but I'm burnt out."
"There'll be another time." He began to dress.
"I'm sorry about the things I said... stay, we can screw again in a
little while."
"Its okay, like I said, I think you were using it to build sexual
tension or some such shit."
"Yeah, well, that was the best fuck I can remember." Still naked she
walked to the kitchen with him. "I want to repeat the experience
often. Ben won't mind, honest."
"I know, gotta go now." With this Bob turned and embraced her in his
arms. He kissed her passionately, as she returned the kiss with her
tongue caressing his lips.
Bob was pleased, he'd only controlled some of her physical reactions.
Not at all like Fran, whose mind was completely adjusted to meet his
demands. Nor like Randi, who he'd taken over control her body with
some reaction control. Now with a little work he could manipulate
women without bending them into entirely new personalities.
Somewhat satisfied that nothing could go wrong now, that his talent
was beginning to grow. He drove over to the Mall, there were a few
more things he'd need before tonight!
====
The mall was full of mothers with children, college students who
didn't have classes or were cutting, and the odd couple here and there
with a day off. Bob was concentrating on getting to the book store,
when something jolted his reverie...
There was a very attractive young girl, although as he looked she
appeared to be older, sitting in front of a shoe store. She had long
black hair, a clear complexion, and was thin but not bony. What
snapped him loose from daydreaming about screwing Janet was
her intensity as she watched women walking by...
Bob sat down across from the Shoe store, pretending to check his
purchases. He reached out with a tendril of thought to probe her. He
was curious. Taking out a pen, he slipped into her subconscious and
found her name and address. This information written down for later
use, he made an effort to monitor her thoughts.
For a moment, he could see through her eyes as she appraised the
curves of a woman walking by with a stroller. This was new! He could
feel her salivating at the idea of sucking milk from the new mother's
teat. He could sense the arousal in her loins and found that his
manhood was straining in response to her lust.
Knowing he couldn't get his chores done, and explore this hot little
lesbian tart, he double checked the address he'd written down and
pulled his tendril of thought back.
He got a second surprise...
Someone was frantically trying to hide their mind, and doing a poor
job of it. He'd never of noticed, but for his little probe activity.
Bob began to seek out the consciousness trying to hide. It was
wandering the mall, but he couldn't tell where...
{who??} came a symbol from this mystery person, {not them?}
Bob, stunned that anyone else knew the symbols, much less could
manipulate them, paused before responding.
{I am learning} he tried to be somewhat evasive. Worried about the
reactions of others to his experiments, it didn't seem a good idea to
expose himself either. {why do you hide?}
{hunters!, you can be found, be careful} and the other mind modified
it's concealment, vanishing from Bob's inexperienced probing.
Someone else slapped out at him with an entirely unsubtle probe at his
mind. Pulling back into himself he displayed a set of surface
thoughts about shopping. Hunters?, what hunters? Telepaths with
hostility towards other telepaths? It was a shock to learn there were
others who knew the symbols. He decided caution was in order.
Bob's consciousness slipped down inside himself. He filled out the
artificial consciousness he left showing, so telepathic probes wouldn't
detect him. This probe was pure energy though, no symbols apparent.
Could the phony him pass if whoever looked closely?
The probe passed, Bob allowed himself an internal sigh of relief.
What he'd done seemed to have worked. He checked the artificial
personality he displayed. He was certain it was untouched. He
wondered who the phantom he'd communicated with was, but was relieved
to avoid the 'hunters'.
In an unhurried manner, watching anxiously for the 'hunters', he
completed his errands. He still couldn't keep from shaking somewhat.
Once he was back on the road, he couldn't resist speeding. He had to
adjust a cop to ignore him as he drove past. Just another price of
the fun he now enjoyed.
====
"Hi Ben."
"Bob!"
"Speakers ready yet?" Bob was still shaking. He wasn't used to the
idea that other people were looking for him, as a telepath that is.
"Hey bud," Ben jibed, "Screwing Janet give you a case of nerves?"
"Naw, close call on the highway." Bob lied. You don't have the
talent, you shouldn't know about it, he thought.
"That was one intense phone call by the way. Ran home for an hour and
we had a quickie on the kitchen floor." Ben lifted the speakers from
behind his work desk. "Funny thing though, Janet seemed let down
afterwards..."
"Aw, she'll be okay. Twice, so close together, probably just a case of
stamina failure."
"Well, you musta given her some work out, she was still naked in the
kitchen. Said she was feeling kind of limp. It was great for me
though."
"Heh heh, thanks for fixing the speakers, Janet was real fun. If you
don't mind maybe she and I can...." he let the thought trail off. It
wouldn't do to have Ben think he was too far gone to appreciate a good
fuck.
"You bet. I'd like to watch though, you know what a thrill I get outa
seeing her get laid..."
"Right, sure. When the opportunity arises, I guess."
====
As evening approached, Bob felt much better. He realized the
'hunters', as he thought of them, could never get hold of him if they
couldn't spot him. Everything was cool again, he thought. He'd just
have to be careful to keep up a good front. He'd have to look at the
Book, to see if any other telepaths are mentioned. Specifically he
wanted to see if he'd overlooked any reference to hostile groups, or
some kind of association of telepaths.
He pushed it to the back of his mind for now. He wanted to be ready
for his private party. So he went back to clearing away the living
room's clutter and straightened up the bedroom. This was going to be
an interesting evening.
====
When the doorbell rang promptly at 6:30, Bob rushed to open it. There
was Fran, and as he'd come to expect, she was striking sexy poses
whenever opportune, as if the photographer would snap a picture at any
moment. Mostly this showed her bust line and hips to great effect, but
the coy come hither looks she shot off were most effective.
She walked in as he directed carrying a large and tattered shopping
bag. She stood in the living room for a moment, gathering in the
view, neither approving nor disapproving. Bob closed the door and
walked up behind her.
"Oh darling, um, master, I've looked forward to this all day!" She
hadn't of course, but she didn't know that. Bob adjusted the
instructions he'd given her to allow her to remain in secret lover
personality while in his home tonight. He reached around her and
cupped the undersides of her tits. They were delightfully round and
soft. Clearly she'd successfully removed her underthings before
coming. He fingered her nipples and licked the back of her neck.
She cocked one knee up a bit and began to squeeze her thighs in to
stimulate her groin. "oh, master, oh please yes." He stopped after a
few moments, to her obvious disappointment.
Lifting the back of her skirt, he was pleased to learn that she'd
gotten the panties off too. Rubbing her bottom he slowly slipped his
middle finger into her asshole. "Eeek!, aaahhh..." Startled at first,
she allowed herself to relax and accept the intrusion.
"March as I lead." he began to direct her by his finger to the
bedroom. Each step was arousing her more as he finger fucked her anus
with every up and down motion. Her face took on a flushed color and
little gasps came after the first few steps.
"You brought your uniform?" He removed his finger. Disappointment
rose again within her. She apparently was expecting to be well fucked
first thing. She'd have to wait.
"Yes master, a beautiful maids outfit. I've worn it once before, but
Joe didn't really care for it."
"Put it on, I'll be in the kitchen." He turned and left her, wanting
to be surprised at least a little bit.
A few minutes later as she came into the kitchen, he turned and was
extremely pleased.
She wore a frilly top blouse with red cups under the breasts, only
barely covering her nipples. Tightly, the white blouse clung to her
middle and a black little skirt fluffed up stiffly, lace patterned
frills underneath showed her upper thighs adorned with garters. Her
legs were decorated with skin colored stockings with the seam in the
back straight as an arrow. Her ankles were adorned with a white lace
loop and turned, ever so lovely, in the high heels she wore. Similar
lace wraps adorned her wrists, displaying her hands and fingers
nicely. She'd removed her wedding and engagement rings, probably to
please her lover. A delightful touch, that added enormously, was the
jet black choker around her neck. She pirouetted for his pleasure.
"Good. Now set the dining room table for two. I'm having Randi over
for dinner. We'll probably fuck afterwards. You will be serving us."
He could sense the anger rising in her. Why should she share him
with anyone! Then he could see the resignation, as she decided she'd
do anything for her secret lover. Interestingly, she began to twitch
with excitement at the humiliation of having to serve his other lover
dinner. She also seem to reflect on how much better a lover she must
be, to be able to accept this role from him.
"Yes master." she meekly said.
Amazing, he thought, I didn't even plant that stream in her to
accept... I think. Aroused himself, he had to struggle not to take
Fran immediately.
She began to work on setting the table, a difficult task in the outfit
she now wore. Watching her move in that outfit, he thought, was one
hell of a reward in itself. The motions showed off her flesh with
grace, and her poise was such, Bob could believe she was aroused just
from being watched.
Fortunately the doorbell rang again. He answered the door to find
Randi, as he expected.
She was beautiful. She wore a red, ankle length, shoulderless dress,
that accented her smaller breasts and the incredible curve of her
hips. Her hair was waved slightly, and the red lipstick was glossy
enough to accent the light pucker her lips were displaying. She was
wearing black high heels, and an ankle bracelet glinted briefly in the
waning sunlight.
A cloud of confusion and irritation hung over her as he waved her in.
"I really didn't want to come, you know. I just had to see if this
stupid lack of control is something that happens only around you!" She
stomped into the livingroom on 3 inch heels without the flowing grace
the dress suggested. He figured he could work on that...
"Oh, I love it when you're angry. Do sit down, our servant for the
evening will have dinner ready soon, I'm sure..."
"Our what!? Oh, your not going to embarrass me in front of a stranger,
you know! I can just leave right now!"
"Nothing of the sort. You know Fran. Fran! Come in here please."
In walked the lovely, willowy blond, displaying herself in her maid's
outfit. She capped her entrance with a delicate curtsy, almost sliding
her breasts free from her blouse on the bounce.
"Yes master?" she put out with the sexiest breathy voice she could
manage.
"Dinner is on the stove and in the oven. When the timer rings, the
chicken should be ready. Set out the food, and call us in. Bring us a
glass of wine each, please."
"Will that be all master?"
"Yes Fran, that will be all."
"That isn't our Fran, from work I mean!?" Randi appeared a little
shocked by Fran's appearance. But her eyes had lingered on Fran's
legs and ass as she wandered back to the kitchen.
"Oh, she likes performing this little role of hers. Don't be alarmed.
We will have dinner, chat for a while, and see what happens."
Randi opened her lovely lips, but rather than speak, she just licked
them. Bob recognized the reaction from the girl in the Mall. He
hadn't expected Randi to have that response. Oh ho!, he thought,
maybe I know what became of the old boyfriend.
Fran brought the wine in, and Randi's eyes didn't stray from her. She
finally looked at Bob again after Fran left the room.
"If you like, I'll let you eat her for dessert." He tested the
waters, deliberately avoiding monitoring her thoughts.
Stunned, Randi looked down at her lap. "I don't know what you're
talking about!" Her voice was much smaller, and somewhat broken up by
the attempt to reply immediately to his insinuation. Her hands were
clasped, palms up in her lap, and looked sweaty. He knew he had
appraised her reaction correctly. Before the conversation continued
however, Fran called that dinner was ready.
Sitting down to candle light, being served by the attractive blond,
and eating dinner with another woman that would be at his command
later, Bob felt a certain contentment. Satisfaction and comfort
settled in while he ate the food Fran placed before him. She stroked
him with those lovely boobs whenever she could work around his side or
back. While she did this, he slipped a suggestion into her mind that
she do the same for Randi.
Fran, consciously trying to please Bob, now began to perform the same
little enticing movements against Randi. Bob watched Randi's eyes pop
wide open at one point when Fran dipped her cleavage low so Randi
couldn't miss it. Randi's tongue explored her own lips and seemed to
have no active control while her eyes followed Fran around the room.
At one point, she brushed her own breast as Fran rubbed up against her
back.
Bob's reactions were astounding, he couldn't keep his prick down when
he saw Randi's behavior.
Fran did well serving the salad, main course, and the cake he had
bought. She made every step to and from the kitchen an exciting
luscious erotic treat as well. But after she cleared the dessert
dishes, he had her bring out coffee. He was looking forward to being
awake for some time yet! Once the coffee was out, he looked at a very
horny Randi sitting opposite.
"Still hungry?"
"Well, no, dinner was very good, thank you." She remained pensive, and
somewhat ill at ease. Bob was delighted, this was all very exciting,
influencing his state of arousal.
"Very well, Fran come in here."
The blond bounced into the dining room quickly, almost coming out of
the weak restraint of her blouse.
"Yes master?"
Bob got up and moved behind Fran, turning her to face Randi. Her body
moved longingly at his every touch. Looking over Fran's shoulder, he
could see Randi lick her lips, and struggle at restraining her own
reactions. Fran tensed a little as she realized he might use her
there before this other lover, but relaxed again, determined she would
show herself the better choice.
He reached for the back of her neck, with his palm arched, he lightly
felt the smooth skin around to her chin and slipped a finger into her
mouth. She took the finger and sucked it with worshipful motions,
licking the air behind as he pulled away from time to time. Bob could
see her eyes were closed in passion. He glanced at Randi, who by now
had her right hand up to her mouth, the knuckles of her forefinger
sucked between her lips, the white of her teeth showing against the
skin. Her desire to participate was very clear.
"Come into the living room, both of you." He directed, as soon as he
could draw himself under control a bit. "Randi, you take the larger
chair, by the bookcase." He slipped his hand under the diminutive
skirt Fran was wearing and grabbed a handful of cheek to guide her in
front of Randi, back about 3 feet. Randi, lost in her own lust,
simply did as commanded. He was delighted that he'd been able to avoid
any further probing, and adjustment to fulfill his desires so far.
He slipped his hand past Fran's anus and pulled back on her crotch
while pushing forward on her shoulders with the other hand. "Ommph!"
she spouted as her hands grabbed the arms of Randi's chair and she
leaned over displaying her bountiful chest to the elegantly dressed
woman beneath.
"Good. Now Randi, since you've been enjoying watching Fran's tits
throughout dinner, you will arouse them for me."
Shamed by her body's hot desire, Randi began to reach up for those
gifts Bob was giving her. She began by unbuttoning the blouse Fran
had so tightly wrapped around herself earlier.
Fran was helplessly trapped in this position, the strain on her arms
noticibly caused discomfort, but as Randi started tracing the shapes
of Fran's huge tits by the tiniest finger traces, a sigh of delight
escaped from within.
While Randi was exploring, Bob dropped his trousers, kicking them and
his shoes aside for now. His view was enhanced by the great mirror
over the mantle of his fireplace. He also reached out to see through
Randi what she saw and felt. As he did this he could feel the growing
lust raging in her and saw the tip of her tongue wrap itself around
Fran's nipple. Fran let out a solid low moan. Bob stepped up behind
her. He lifter her skimpy skirt to expose naked ass and pussy. He slid
his cock straight into her cunt, by now soaked with vaginal juices, to
the hilt.
"gnnn! ooohhh god!" he could feel her clenching her teeth with the
sensation of her nipples being aroused from one side as he plunged her
depths from behind. Unable to do much more than wobble in place
against him, she pressed back whenever she could. The high heels she
wore made this task less than simple.
Bob blocked her orgasm, as he had earlier with Janet. He let it
build. The streams of pleasurable arousal grew, but failed to
release. "unh unh unh" she throbbed rhythmically, pulsing as he
continued to pound her cunt and Randi got more enthusiastic with her
tits. Randi bit down hard once, eliciting a great "ggaaawwdddd
yessss!" as Fran lurched with the strokes. Fran's head was now shaking
wildly from side to side, tossing droplets of sweat left and right as
she strove to reach the plateau... which Bob finally allowed,
unlocking the stream for her. "AAAHHHHAAHHHHHHHHHH! GOOOOOODDD!
FU..." and she went from total animal screech to whimpering little
girl slowly through the orgasm.
No one could say how long she had been in a state of orgasm, but when
she was done, there was just a shell of child, leaning against the
chair. Bob carried her to the other chair and sat her down. Still in
her maids uniform, Fran looked a little like a broken doll.
Checking she was actually still there and breathing, Bob cupped her
face in his hands. She smiled, but didn't open her eyes.
Bob turned back to Randi. She was virtually drooling, gulping with
desire and anticipation. Her hands were rubbing across the fabric of
her dress, over her breasts.
"I'll do anything you want," she breathed seductively. He knew he had
her hooked, more than controlled. "I'll be your whore," she went on,
"anytime, just help me, uh, please, I want to cum like that!" she
ended in a stammering whisper. He could see her shudder lightly as
he approached her.
His cock, wet from Fran, was still standing erect. He stood by the
side of Randi's chair.
"Darling Randi, I think you can start by cleaning Fran's juices off my
prick."
"Yes, er, should I call you master too?" she spoke directly at his
prick, now in her hand.
"Eventually, maybe. Tonight you are my date, Fran is being our
entertainment, a toy for both of us to play with." Randi was wrapping
her lips about the tip of his cock, "a toy for your pleasure too. But
you will be my Lady, an exceptional consort for this night."
She was delighting in tasting the juices Fran covered him with, he
could feel the passion in her lips and tongue. As she began diving
against his groin, the flood of energy built in his balls, surging to
rise above the base of his organ. He felt her slide further towards
the root of his stiffness. Her teeth digging gently against the body
of his cock. Pulling her head harder against him he unleashed a
torrent of cum down her throat. Remarkably, she sucked harder to
swallow what he'd delivered. When his release ended, he stood back
appraising her appearance.
She licked her lips clean, clearing every drop of the hard won semen
from her chin, she was still unquestionably squealching her own desire
to orgasm. She had given over to his control, he would let her come
when she was ripe, improving the inevitable orgasm beyond her normal
expectations. She was obviously certain of this.
Drop and give me fifty, he chuckled to himself. Oh, the enticing
thrill of having two such lovely toys, all to himself. Well, he
couldn't leave her quite like this all night.
"Go in the bedroom, get your underwear off. Then we'll make a short
trip out. You will enjoy yourself, I'm sure."
Reluctantly, knowing she'd now have to wait for her anticipated
release, she stepped down the hall. Bob turned to Fran who had
recovered enough to watch the end of Randi's administrations to his
prick.
"Clean yourself up. I want the kitchen clean by the time we get back
and yourself in pristine condition, prepared for our leisure."
"Yes master," she managed, still hovering about the plateau she hit
when her orgasm ended. He sensed she'd gotten a thrill from the use
Randi had made of her, he'd expected no less.
He put his pants back on, finishing the knots on his shoes when Randi
came back out. Her makeup straightened out, she had taken on the
appearance of someone set to go to the opera. She had turned her
curvaceous assets into a work of art.
"Before we go, why don't you go in to Fran and feel up her cunt? You
might feel better for it... if all goes well, I'll let you use her
later as well..." She flashed him a wicked lustful glance, and
stepped into the kitchen.
"Yipppp!, oh mistress!" He heard while he found his keys and wallet.
"unnnh!, mmmmph!" A few more muffled moans and sighs were followed
by an "oh please!"
Momentarily, with a satisfied grin, Randi stepped back in. Her
lipstick was slightly disrupted, but she seemed gloriously pleased
with herself.
She fixed the makeup again in the car.
====
The two of them went to a few dance places he'd used to visit,
trolling for dates, before he'd met Betty. She danced impeccably. He
teased her, making her dance with several other men with verbal
instructions to make the tiniest of come ons to them. Randi obviously
felt a little humiliated, but also found each act of humiliation to be
another inch forward in her arousal.
He, for his part, danced with as many other women as he could entice to
the dance floor. Some of them never noticed his hands cupping their
breasts. Some did, but didn't want him to stop.
But after a few hours, Bob took Randi back to his home. She was now
so hot, she figured the doorknob looked good. He told her to use Fran
to get her relief, when they got inside.
As they entered, Fran stepped up with hot cocoa.
"I thought you'd like something when you got in, master."
Bob took his cup, but Randi set hers aside. In moments she had pulled
Fran to the floor, plunging her tongue into the other woman's throat.
The temporary servant was moaning herself at this assault like advance
and began to feel Randi's curves through her dress. Shortly it was
Fran who had rolled Randi over and was thrusting her tongue down the
brunette's throat. Gasps of pleasure worked free from both women.
Bob was very pleased with the turn of events.
Randi and Fran allowed him to interrupt. After pointing out the
bedroom would be much more comfortable, he watched as they scrambled
to the other room together. He slipped the orgasm block into both of
them, and went down the basement.
Shortly he'd found the book and went into the living room, sitting in
the same chair he'd had Randi in earlier. Sipping his drink, he
listened to the stream of moans and begging "fuck me, please, oooohh"
sounds from the bedroom. His vicarious pleasure was about to begin.
He'd planned this since he saw the little tart at the mall.
He reached out to feel the two women, entering into the streams Randi
was putting out. He could feel her lips brush the nipples of the
other woman. Her heat filled his loins, the pleasure and pain of the
nips at her own nipples flooded his chest. He could feel the fingers
invading her cunt. He sensed the dripping fluids dribbling down her
legs. His own pelvis lifted and pulsed in rhythm with hers. Fran
became pinned under her, as she thrust her groin into the blond's
face. Clearly the blond was easily as far gone by now, as Randi dug
her tongue between Fran's cut lips, the fluids flowed into her mouth.
He could feel the twist of Fran's fingers, reaching Randi's tits.
Bob released the block on Randi's orgasm while he was inside her mind
stream, wallowing in the symbols spelling out the thrusting surge. He
felt her muscled contraction tightly, again, and then again, and once
again. He was certain he was wet in exactly the same way. Then he
slipped into Fran's stream of consciousness, feeling a similar punch
of pleasure rising in her/his groin. Randi chose the moment to lunge
her fingers into Fran's cunt, several, maybe an entire fist. Fuck!,
god that was good, he released Fran too and she went screaming, at
the top of her lungs, over the edge.
Releasing the probe into the women, Bob relaxed. Oh shit, he looked
down. He'd orgasmed, messing his pants and his chair. How
embarrassing. Planning hadn't foreseen this, he decided.
====
He cleaned up the mess. Looking in on his toys, he saw they'd fallen
asleep, cuddled in each other's arms.
Very well, he thought. I'm pretty well burnt out anyway. Time to
check out the book. He began to search for references to
organizations of telepaths, hunters, anything. It was 2:00 AM when he
gave up. There were no clues to anyone, not even the original author.
He virtually had the Book memorized now.
He finally put it away again.
Thinking about the two women together, his cock rose again. He
slipped in next to Fran. He woke her with a shush...
With Randi still asleep, he had Fran suck his cock, lubricating him
with her spit. Turning her around, he arranged her on her knees on
the bed. Her head next to Randi, her shoulders embedded in a pillow,
her ass jutting up at him. He spread her cheeks. She made a small
whimper of joy, and he shushed her again. His cock worked its way
into her ass slowly. She bit down on the pillow. He plunged in and
began to work up a rhythm. Fran grunted a pleased sigh. He pumped and
felt the flood coming again. His groin squeezed the liquid fire
through his prick one more time for the night.
Randi slept through everything this time, even Fran's screaming orgasm.
And then he felt spent. Fran dripped with come, and he watched her
waiting permission to get up. With hesitation, he had her gather her
things and go home.
He gave Fran a farewell kiss at the front door, and intimately drew
his fingers over each breast and her cunt before she departed.
====
He woke up Randi, telling her to go home. Randi seemed reluctant to
depart. She wanted to stay for more of his special treatment.
"Don't worry, we'll get together again, soon."
"I'm prepared to move in, if you'll have me." she whispered.
"You want Fran, not me." He knew what brought out her heat, she'd
missed it all along. His new talent had helped see through her thin
veneer.
"Yes, but you gave her to me tonight. The whole thing wouldn't have
worked if I'd tried to pick her up myself..." Her eyes begged him for
more, both the humiliation and the control over other women. "But
she is only one woman. You are a treasure chest of unbriddled
sexual pleasure."
"So you think you want to be my whore? You want me to pimp women for
your use?"
"I'd pay for what you've given me, er, master." with this she
announced her servitude.
"You will pay. You'll find that if I own you, I'll used you often.
I'll think it over. Go home."
She pouted at him, but left as commanded. He watched her car drive
away in the darkness.
Clearing away the mess in the bed room, he collapsed into a solid
crashing sleep.
He dreamed of being 'hunted' by predatory villains, wielding ray guns
and carrying manacles. The terror woke him, but he managed to drop off
again, repeating the nightmare a few times...
Betty would visit tomorrow.
====
Oh sigh, more of _A Weekend by the Book_ when time permits...
-Blackie
--
I will ignore all requests for: reposts, e-mailing parts, ftp/gif/archive
sites, and subscription requests. These stories get deleted immediately after
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Path: holytoy!seunet!seunet!sunic!news.funet.fi!news.eunet.fi!EU.net!howland.reston.ans.net!vixen.cso.uiuc.edu!laff
From: laff@sal.cs.uiuc.edu (Joshua A Laff)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: ARCHIVE: the-book-3.Z
Message-ID: <2tuaed$br1@vixen.cso.uiuc.edu>
Date: 18 Jun 1994 08:15:09 GMT
Reply-To: laff@sal.cs.uiuc.edu
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Organization: University of Illinois at Urbana
Lines: 1016
NNTP-Posting-Host: sal.cs.uiuc.edu
This story is another from the archives, and is not written by me.
Requests for just about anything concerning these posts will be ignored.
See the FAQ in a.s.s.d for more information. And stop sending talk
requests. Even when I'm logged in to this posting site, I usually
have the window closed, and if I don't, it's because I'm WORKING
From: an21262@anon.penet.fi (Blackie)
Date: Thu, 3 Jun 1993 23:05:08 GMT
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Repost: A Weekend by the Book Pt 2
Reposted per requests...
This is more of _The Book_, a mind control story.
m/f non-consensual,
this simply remains an adolescent fantasy, and fantasies
are harmless until you try to live them out (without consenting
partners)
Oh yeah, any resemblance between characters living/dead/or even
fictional, remains entirely coincidental, remarkable, but
coincidental. Good? good.
This is partly for jhs, who would probably roll in his grave...
_A Weekend by the Book_
section (b)
Saturday morning, a dreamy semi-spring day crept up on Bob. He
managed to get out of bed anyway. He knew the morning would give him
little time to get chores out of the way...
Bob could feel the detergent powder against his skin after putting the
bed clothes in to wash. The odor of sex had turned sour during the night,
and he had felt obliged to get his house into a more pristine condition
before Betty showed up.
Randi had left her panties and bra behind. He felt like a teenager,
finding forbidden fruit. He was going to stow them away to return later.
As he did, he noticed her fragrance had remained on the lingerie. He
hesitated for a moment, then put them in a plastic bag in the crawl
space. He didn't think Betty would explore there.
Musing, he considered the practicalities of Randi moving in as his slave.
Although she volunteered, he didn't see any practical means of keeping
her in line without 'adjustment'.
Not that he was bothered by the power he had over her, but it was
somehow more enjoyable when she *had* to cooperate without
manipulation.
Not that he'd ever be able to explain to Betty.
He turned on some music, an old Beatles album. About the time he heard
the line "she came in through the bathroom window..." the doorbell rang.
====
Betty was in the study, working on an art project. Sometimes when she
came over, it was to make use of the extra space his home afforded. She
lived in an apartment about 30 minutes away, so while convenient, it
wasn't exactly a trip she would make for only one purpose.
She realized that if she'd done this Friday night, she and Bob wouldn't
have any time together. She was somewhat pleased that the speakers
were fixed now too. She brushed something off her slacks.
Maybe, she thought, maybe Bob's the one. A real keeper, the 'Man of my
dreams'. He'd stopped pushing her about sex lately too. This was a 'Good
Thing' and to be admired, since it meant she could control that silly
activity if they ever got married.
She dismissed the whole stream of thoughts for now, since, after all,
marriage is a serious topic. She was still having fun with Bob, not ready
to be completely serious yet.
She struggled to straighten out the mat she had cut for her art.
====
Bob, in the other room, smiled to himself after eavesdropping on her
thoughts. Controlling sex was a trivial issue now that he could slip a
new chain of symbols into her nervous system.
He was satisfied with reading her mind at the moment. The time would
come to strip her of the misconception sex was silly. It just would
have to wait.
"How long is a china man?" he called to her.
"What?" he'd gotten her attention.
"When are you going to be finished?," he shouted. "I've some yard work to
do, but I might need to run some errands too."
"Go ahead, I could be a few hours. Then maybe we can go out for dinner!"
she called back. He shuddered, wondering what type of culinary horror
she would foist upon him this time.
He stepped out to the garage, getting the lawnmower out. Soon, he was
lost in the numbing vibrations, watching the clippings that escaped
through the gap between the housing and the ground. He contemplated
the fate of these small clippings.
====
He could feel people around him.
Betty, most certainly. But across the street he could sense the kids
playing on the swingset/kid fort behind the house. He could feel the
couple next door, working separately on household chores. Two
teenagers were hiding behind a garage making out. Mr. Graenspin two
blocks over had a whale of a hangover.
The drivers of cars passing by sent out mixed signals of braking,
accelerating. The mailman was frustrated by sorting the goddamn mail
for the twerps in 352, but he was looking forward to delivering to that
divorced Mrs. Lansing. A bicyclist was staring at the tire before him
rolling along the road.
The rolling murmur of mind voices started as a trickle but was starting
to roar. It was building to a shouting crescendo! Bob dropped to his
knees, clutching his hands over his ears and scream, at least he thought
he did. The book had done this! He hadn't expected to hear everyone at
once!
Seal them out, seal them out! The alien thoughts were pounding at the
gates of his mind... he had to stop them. When he could work in a few
thoughts of his own he imagined a curtain around his mind. He drew it
about that thing which was 'Bob' and closed in underneath.
The mass of minds quieted. He could still feel the plundering assault in
throbbing waves, a little like the water of a shower pushing the curtain
back. Realization dawned that his range had steadily increased and was
undergoing another enormous growth. What he needed was some kind of
filter, a bubble, some kind of shield he could selectively see through...
and as he thought it, the shield began to form.
He found he was kneeling in the grass. Certain the entire crisis had
lasted less than a handful of seconds, he continued to kneel, panting
from the released pressure. It would pass, but the exertion of fighting
off the effects of his power left him weak.
He had only a few more passes to make with the mower. He fought
through it tenaciously.
====
He'd gone in the bathroom to recover. Betty, who was still diligently
working, wouldn't disturb him in here. She seemed to respect some
activities as sacrosanct.
He stretched out in the tub, fully dressed and leaned back. There must be
a suitable way to relax after that experience. He thought his head would
burst like a bad scene in a horror flick.
The best relaxation he could think of was sex.
Well, with Betty here, that was out for sure. Then the glimmerings of a
plan came up from the cellars of his mind.
Testing his control of the shield he'd constructed, he looked in on the
neighboring couple. He couldn't remember their names, but he could find
out as he slipped into their minds.
The woman was easy to find. He was getting used to exploring women's
thoughts...
She was taking a breather, sitting on the edge of her bed. She wasn't bad
to look at, thought Bob, seeing her in the mirror through her own eyes.
Her brown/blonde hair was styled into a fluffy perm. Her face without
make up was attractive, high cheeks, narrow nose, expressive mouth,
with a round, smooth chin. Her body was athletic, not real busty, but
curved and rounded at the chest. From what he could make out of her
legs, she was sculpted nicely there too.
The decision came upon him, he wanted to make her, right now! It was
just a matter of how to go about taking her. Thinking of his remote
experience last night with his slave toys, the plan continued to grow in
his mind.
He insinuated a control over the woman, making her wait at the edge of
the bed.
Seeking out her husband, Bob slipped his consciousness into the man. He
suppressed the other man's self into a sleep. Bob looked at his new
hands, rough and callused from physical labor.
He saw he was in the man's workshop, and had been running a lathe. He
cut the power to the device. It took a little searching in the man's head
to sort out the layout of the house. In short order he was at the door to
the bedroom.
Before him, sat his lovely wife. Whoooops! Boy, did the native mind's
thoughts crept up on him. Bob sat beside her inside this other body,
turning her towards him for a light lip brushing kiss. She dropped her
eyes.
"Oh honey, it's the middle of the day..." Bob tickled the nerves to send
signals of mild arousal through her back, legs, arms and neck.
"I'll try to make it as though we've never touched before..." he whispered
into an ear he had lifted a wisp of hair away from.
She silently acquiesced to his advances.
Kicking his shoes off, he laid her back over the freshly made bed. She
set her arms above her head and allowed him to sink his tongue into her
mouth. Their tongues wrestled. Occasionally, he sucked one, then the
other lip between his own, striving to created the physical sensations
he could feel she craved. With fingertips afire, he traced the muscles
of her neck. He followed the same path afterwards with the tip of his,
er, her husband's, tongue.
After a moments pause to contemplate her engrossed expression, he
carefully unbuttoned the first of her blouse's buttons. The skin exposed
by this was treated to a gentle nibbling by his lips. Tactile sensations
flooded outward from each spot he touched. He could feel the surge of
excitement radiating within his own, er the other man's, body as well.
Another button, another worshipful engagement of skin. He undid the
third button, exposing the clasp of her bra. As he finished the skin to
skin communication this time, he undid the bra's clasp, but stayed his
hand from curling back the clothe.
By now she was squirming with luxurious joy. It was quiet, she, unlike
his other recent conquests, was remarkably silent in her repose. When
he pulled back the sides of her blouse, she began to pull it off herself,
but he stopped her. She allowed him to roll her sleeves down from the
shoulders one at a time, and as he did, his lips and tongue came to
explore the newly exposed skin. She finally release a single low moan.
Bob reached across with a sliver of thought an magnified the sensation
for her. He could see within her that she no longer had any control over
her responsiveness.
Speeding the process a bit, he pulled her shorts away, leaving her clad
now only in a partially opened bra, and her panties. Edging a hand down
into the back of her panties, he brushed the backs of her cheeks. They
clenched together under his hand beginning a hip motion of incredible
delight to Bob.
The nameless woman before him watched his own motions as he stripped
himself of the clothes he'd worn into the room. Moving on her own, she
cupped his erect cock, a fairly normal size, in her hands and performed
some of her own worshipful contact touches. He lay on his back and she
began to trace her tongue all over him, with sensual little nips at his
nipples.
She tossed the now useless bra aside and putting her two slender legs
together, she slid the panties off over her knees, ankles, then toes. He
could see the panties were drenched. Undressed, the view of her was
glorious. Her pussy hair was short and curly, forming a vase shape over
her crotch. Her tits were little more than an handful, with erect pointing
nipples begging for attention.
He reached out to caress them. She slipped her lips over his prick. The
tongue gently tickling the head of his prick, she took little nips at the
skin along the length. He was surprised how agile she was at this. Then
she vacuumed the entire length right down into her throat! He strained
not to come yet. She began to turn this into a serious problem, diving up
and down a few times, pausing, then repeating the performance.
On one of her thrusts, with penis lodged deeply in her throat, he loosed a
torrent of come. He could make out the swallowing muscles on the side
of her neck.
She sat up and smiled, licking any remaining drops from her lips. There
was a self satisfied, somewhat superior look on her face.
Not to be completely outdone, he turned her on her back and lifted her
hips. He started nibbling at her thighs, creamy soft on the surface, strong
and well exercised thighs. Working his tongue amongst the folds of skin
between her legs, he rapidly found the little boat her slit enfolded into.
There at the apex, was the knob of flesh he was seeking. Bob added a
little stimulus to the already twitching nerves, a surge of pleasant
symbols tickling in amongst the others her body already was producing.
Holding her hips up, he worked around so his host's balls hung over
her face, her knees resting on his shoulders. This exposed her ass to
penetration by his fingers. Feeling the apprehension at her ass being
invaded, he found the symbols in the nerve stream were countering the
gentle brushes his fingertips were making. He eased the pain symbols
out of the stream, and suddenly the arousal increased accordingly.
With the backdoor open to his gentle touch, he lubricated his fingers in
her cunt to a growing stream of quiet suppressed moans. He continued to
lick the lips of her cunt, but began sliding first one, then two, then
three fingers in passed her sphincter.
To his delight she was trying to press the fingers in deeper. By now she
had found his cock hanging before her face enticing. He was being
sucked, nibbled and licked back to stiffness.
Finally, hard again, he stood on the bed. Continuing to hold her hips up
off the bed, he entered the darkest cavern she held. He pressed his hosts
cock into her anus until his balls rested, nestled between her ass
cheeks. She, lost in her new sensations, went into overdrive.
She pummeled her ass against him, seething with desire to suck the rest
of him into her rectum. He reached down and began to brutalize her
nipples, now raging with a sensitivity to the surge of pain/pleasure that
drove through her tits to her throat.
"Gaaaaaawwwddddaammmnnniitt!" she burst out from her throat with all
the pent up lust contained in their actions. "FUGMEEEEE!" as she worked
through the wild thrashing and to her climax.
He pulled out of her ass and entered her now steaming pussy. Wet and
surging, her muscles squeezed the invading prick, causing another
spreading ejaculation. He was able to unleash another flood, enough so
that the new made bed would require changing again.
"unnnghh..." he muttered. Looking at the doll like woman before him, he saw
she was wasted from her exertion.
"You never made love to my ass before, sweetheart." she whispered in
oblivion.
"I told you it would be as though we'd never touched before..." He let the
man, his host, collapse. He planted a memory of this pleasant experience
behind and looked up at the shower curtain. Oddly, his own body felt alien
to him on returning.
This time Bob hadn't messed himself. He was completely thrilled at the
remote control sex he'd orchestrated. He felt refreshed from the
experience, not burnt out. And Betty was still working away downstairs,
none the wiser...
=====
They'd ended up at an Italian restaurant. It was a well hidden place named
Lorenzo's. The checkered tablecloths covered small tables crowded
together in such a way as to prevent two people from sitting back to back.
He ordered the Fettucini, she ordered Linguini in Clam Sauce. While they
waited for dinner, the waiter had left bread sticks for them.
He wasn't feeling very talkative, so Betty had let him be so far.
He watched with interest as she picked up her bread stick, slipped it into
her mouth and pulled the little seeds off by pulling the stick out of her
mouth. She had to repeat this several times to get all the seeds off. Then
she'd turn it around and work on the other end.
When she found several seeds remained, he found, she began to use her
little pink tongue to wet them down so they'd pop loose.
The images of bread sticks licked seductively, plunging them in and out
of her sweet lips, left his manhood strained against the crotch of his
pants. He determined it would be a bad time to stand up.
She was as deep in thought as he and was, as he watch, closing her eyes,
and opening her mouth a fraction of an inch. He found he could spot her
teeth closed lightly on the tip of her tongue when she did this. It
infuriated him to know she insisted on waiting until they got married to
share any real intimacy.
He wondered if she knew about the little turn on motions she made, or if
it was all just a part of her mannerism.
And wondering was the same as acting, for in an instant he had a thread
into her mind.
She was considering the wisdom of having expresso after the meal. She
knew it would keep her up most of the night, but she liked the strong
coffee flavor after pasta. She could tell Bob was tense, but why, she
asked herself.
He had been fine around the house, she thought he was developing some
real talents for property upkeep. In fact when she'd gotten to his house
this morning, the kitchen was spotless. She could almost believe he'd
spent much of the evening cleaning last night.
She enjoyed having him treat her well. This dinner was excellent,
although she really should have insisted on the Thai cuisine she was
more interested in tonight. He hadn't quite allowed her to manipulate
the decision as smoothly as usual. Somehow she miscalculated his
willingness to yield to her wants and was surprised when he hadn't
given in when she agreed to Italian. The ploy had always worked before.
She would make him take her to a movie. This would help both of them,
she decided. He'd lose the tension he was displaying with a nice
dramatic romance movie, she was sure. The care and feeding of Bob, she
thought, I'm becoming the expert.
Annoyed, Bob withdrew the thread. He should have realized there was no
conscious effort to be sexy, seductive or mildly enticing on her part.
She was above such things in her own mind. A touch manipulative, but
she wasn't aware of those little sex cues she sent out in body language.
Maybe he should re-evaluate the relationship with her... no, he should
just modify it a bit. He grinned.
Betty took this as a sign he was perking up. There was no way for her to
know how this would change her life...
====
They were at the movie. It was some poor excuse for an artsy dramatic
romance. He was bored.
If only the flick had a touch of humor, rather than drowsy monotone
conversations, he might enjoy it. He liked romance, even tear jerkers,
but not painfully dragging ones. The only thing worse would be watching
nothing but TV commercials for two hours running.
So he began to scan the near vicinity for interesting minds to explore.
A narrow trail of thought wandering the neighborhood almost escaped
his attention. Not really thought, but in the spectrum he saw the
symbols in. It was narrow and straight, a bright beam of thought energy.
But Bob couldn't sense any symbols within the path, rather maybe he
could. It looked like a simple imperative demand for a subconscious
response, a sort of feedback ping.
Watching it closely, Bob concluded it was traversing a circle, not unlike
a radar. He traced back towards its source, but the closer his own probe
reached for the source, the harder it was to dodge away so the beam
missed him.
A quick jab at the heart of the beacon gave him a view of three men
sitting with a stack of electronic gear. He pulled back just in time not
to come in contact with the beacon... Could these be the 'hunters' from
yesterday's encounter?
He jabbed out and back again, trying to pull an impression from one of
the men. He no sooner established contact than it was over. There
wasn't any way to learn from this without being trapped in the
mysterious beacon. Where were these guys at least?
Then the beam stopped sweeping. He could sense they had locked onto
something. He pushed in again to see what he'd found. Tapping into the
senses of one of the men he found himself looking on as another pulled a
wirelike helmet over his head.
"Probably another guy, figured out he was telepathic, screwing anything
in skirts he can find." he heard a voice.
"That or some jerk, just taking things away from other people. They get
that way when they figure out no one can stop them. Usually, the
property branch can pick them up just by following the weird police
reports. You know, 'I lost my car- I gave it away, but I don't know how or
why', some Sparks got no imagination."
"Yeah, but it can go for months without one of the creeps popping up."
"The naturals are rare, ya know. You ain't gonna find large numbers of
them."
Bob realized the man he had probed was a trainee and the explanations
were for his benefit, so to speak. Two great coincidental events!, the telepath
popping up just now, and a newly indoctrinated trainee to delve for info.
He dug in for information from this man. These were the 'hunters', he
was sure. They were trying to find telepaths. No big surprise so far. They
worked for some kind of super secret research project. It was vague,
vaporous even, the mystery source of funds and the authority behind the
project.
"My god!, its a woman!" One of the hunters exclaimed. "There aren't many
of them at the institute. The White Coats always wants another to study,
we may get a bonus!"
Suddenly interested, Bob determined this woman was one telepath that
would slip free of their net. First, with speed he didn't know he could
muster, he traced down their scanning beam, finding the woman.
{Flee, conceal your talent!} he sent.
{Who} she radiated {where are you?}
{hunters follow} he threw out cryptically {they'll catch you.} He
pulled her home address from her mind before slipping back to the
hunters.
He quickly realized he'd made some kind of error, there were all kinds of
alarms going off. The trainee was fumbling with a small electronic
device, trying to get it over his right ear.
"hurry, we can't let her know anymore than she already does!" The other
man was helping the trainee. Suddenly, there was no one there for him
to read. Three lumps of emptiness he could feel but couldn't penetrate
had taken the place of the hunters he'd been watching.
Allowing himself to snap free, he found his constructed defense
personality had escorted Betty back to the car. My, he thought, it's nice
to be able to do two things at once.
====
Back at the house, he invited her in for a cup of Java. It was rare
for him to do this, but not unusual. He knew she'd insist on tea though.
"Oh Bob, I'd love to come in, but how about tea rather than coffee. It is so
much better for you at the end of the day."
She swept into the kitchen to start the water. Her hips moving with a
grace he'd admired before, but now he knew for certain how unconscious it
was on her part.
He only turned on the one lamp by the window. And he settled into his
favorite chair to wait Betty's return. Tonight he was determined to have
his coffee. He slipped a suggestion into Betty, the first he'd ever made to
Betty, that it would be a nice treat to make coffee for him this time. That
he'd be more malleable to her manipulation if she did something for him.
He could see her mind fight against the idea, eventually yielding before it
despite counter arguments from within her psyche. Egocentric little bitch,
he reflected.
She came out of the kitchen with two mugs.
"Surprise, I made your coffee anyway, but don't start a habit of drinking
this stuff at bed time, I won't stand for it!" She announced, presenting
herself as the authoritative decision maker. It was time for this to
change, he decided. He made a small adjustment, a little series of symbols
to magnify the importance of his opinions in her mind. To back it up, he
added a little program to make her question her own decisions whenever
they affected other people.
"Actually, I believe a cup of coffee is superior to tea late in the evening.
Helps keep you alert for those end of the day thoughts."
"Yes, yes. I suppose you're right." She confirmed smiling at him as though
her agreement was natural. She curled up on the floor, about six or seven
feet away from his chair. He watched her hover over her tea, sipping it
reflectively. Her head was bent slightly, and with the angle exposed to
him, he could make out the lines of her muscles and the supple skin from
her hair line to her shoulders. Her hair, draped as it was across her
shoulder, reached to her lap.
He realized his reluctance to adjust her was fading, knowing just how self
centered she was. He was tempted to turn her into a little nymphomaniac
and set her loose in a football team locker, but no...
Bob put aside the coffee mug, and sidled up against her on the floor.
Startled, a bit, she looked up at him.
"Yes?" she spoke, as though the presidential debates was under
discussion.
"Shhhh," he whispered. Bending his own head forward, he made a first,
almost puritanical kiss on her lips. He followed with a second, less
reserved entry in the same place. She allowed his tongue entry, but
didn't make any motion towards improving the embrace.
Leaning his forehead against hers, "come on Betty, open up a little bit,
enjoy some tenderness."
"Bob if this is leading to another discussion on sex, you can just forget
it right now!" He teased the nerves of her pussy and clitoris a touch.
From below he could see her body was already pushing a strong desire
up from the waist. He was stung by her venom, not the words, and
another discovery, that she was suppressing the heat herself from some
unconscious source.
"Relax a bit Betty." he commanded twice, with his voice and also with
the now all too familiar symbols from the book. She eased back,
emotionally.
He put her mug aside, still within reach. Then pulled her face gently to
his own, giving the best kiss he could bring from within himself. She
reluctantly cooperated, but didn't display the same passion.
He began to seek out the source of resistance from her mind.
Tracing back the streams of suppression into her unconscious, he found
the image of a little girl and a towering woman. The woman was
shouting about the evils men do, the horrors of submitting to sex, the
terrors of marriage, men must be controlled! He recognized the little
girl as Betty. Who was the woman though? she only bore a superficial
resemblance to Betty.
He formed an image of himself next to the little girl, staunchly
receiving a continuous lecture.
{who is that?} he whispered to her.
{That's mama, she knows everything.} replied the child worshipfully.
{Oh} He began to form another image of the woman, right next to the
first one. She began to lecture on the evils of self righteous behavior,
failure to live your own life, trying to run the lives of others. He
grinned. It might not be consistent to apply this debate to him, but it
might diffuse this fear Betty had of sex.
He hoped.
Slowly at first, but more quickly after a moment, the towering women
began to shrink and the little girl image began to fade into a more
mature image, more like the grown woman he knew.
He withdrew from her unconscious, and was pleased to see her body was
beginning to respond to the lusty necking session.
It was time to take the next step.
He pushed her onto her back, and began to shower her face and neck with
little kisses and love bites. Her lovely hair splayed out behind her head.
He brought a hand along the expanse of her shoulders, and drew it down
towards her breast.
"Please, Bob, don't" she whispered, following with a slight whimper as
his palm drew over the nipple. "oh!"
He concentrated on caressing the underside of her chin and neck with
his lips while he teased her breast with the most whispered touches.
"oh, Bob, I, I, I shouldn't. I can't, aaah, oh no."
"You are overdue, little child, and you will find no better man to yield to
than me." He allowed himself a touch of ego for the moment.
Watching her face, he began to unbutton her blouse. She turned her head
away, a tear, from confusion, drew a line across her nose.
He reached under the blouse to feel her tit. He was still massaging over
the fabric of her bra, but the nipple had become erect. Taking the tip
between his forefinger and thumb, Bob rolled the nipple tighter.
"Ooooh Bob." Her hips had begun to writhe against his legs. She let out
another reluctant moan.
He stood up slowly, lifting her in his arms. She draped her arms over his
shoulders, around his neck. She burrowed her face into his armpit.
"No, Bob, no, please let me go home. I can't do this."
He ignored her plea.
He carried her to the bed, placing her on her back. She looked away as he
stripped off her blouse and bra, but moaned whenever he flicked his
tongue around her nipples.
She was still putting up a week resistance as he undid her pants and
drew them off of her glorious legs. He always did get a thrill from
admiring her well turned ankles. So he spent a interval providing a
teasing tongue lashing to those newly exposed appendages. She
whimpered and sighed, apparently uncertain what to expect.
He stepped out of his clothes, and lay alongside the nearly naked woman.
She didn't exactly refuse his embrace as he re-initiated the exploration
of her lips an mouth, but she wasn't enthusiastically joining in either.
Bob slipped another little control into her, pushing the hesitancy aside,
pulling her excitement forward. She started to make a few affirmative
actions on her own. Her hands started to trace across his chest,
exploring the handful of curly black hairs, discovering the shapes of his
nipples.
He reached for her crotch, finding her panties were still in place. They
were skimpy, and showing a little age, holes in places near the elastic.
He hooked his fingers in them and ripped them away, eliciting a startled
gasp from Betty. Smiling, he worked his hand down between her legs and
cupped her womanhood.
"Bob, this is, Bob, we shouldn't, Bob" she was muttering, barely
comprehensible.
She wasn't aware that she no longer had any choice. Even if she resisted
further, he had determined what he'd adjust, and how, to enforce her
cooperation. This didn't prove necessary, however, and she plastered her
body against him, plunging her tongue into his mouth.
Disengaging his mouth, entering her cunt with a finger, gave her a
wicked, possessive look.
"Want it, or not, Betty, I'm taking you tonight. You will be my
property from now on." she pouted at his pronouncement, "You will
remain my chattel, and you will agree before you leave."
"But," and she loosed a groan of unadulterated lust, thrusting against his
fingers, "ooooh Bob!" He could feel the wave of lust washing her insides,
and along with it a sense of shame over her lost control.
Bob reached inside the bedstand drawer near at hand, pulling out a
condom. He'd gotten these yesterday just for Betty. He knew she
wouldn't be on the pill, but he wasn't going to let her escape his
penetration tonight.
"Watch now, you may be asked to do this for me later, and you wouldn't
want to make any mistakes." She watched as he rolled the latex mitten
over his erect penis, licking her lips anxiously as he did. He was
uncertain if she was worried about his entry or getting it right later.
"Oh Bob, your thing is so big." Her eyes were open as wide as he'd ever
seen them.
"Cock, Betty, say cock, or prick, or penis, or meat, or tool, or... Well,
Don't call it a thing, not ever again."
"Oh!" her eyes were wide open at the tone of command in his voice.
"Spread your legs now, wide enough to let me get my body in between."
She pulled her knees up towards her shoulder, craning her neck to see
what he planned to do. He moved his cock along the tender lips of her
cunt, teasing her a little. She gasped out a sound of mixed surprise and
pleasure, followed by little panting noises. Her hips seemed to try to
reach for him. He started to push into her recessed opening.
"Aaaah, Bob, I forgot, aaaahh." He paused a moment, to let her speak.
"You see, Bob, I've never, I mean, you know."
He smiled, "I already know you're a virgin, Betty." Her eyes showed he'd
understood, and she nodding affirmatively. Then he inched his way in,
pressed against an obstruction he'd never encountered before in sex.
She was his first virgin, although he was determined she would be only
his first. She squealed in sharp pain as the hymen snapped. After a few
more strokes though, she was in ecstasy again.
"ooooh, Bob!" was followed by incoherent moaning and an occasional
whimper. He took his own time, because he liked watching the series of
pleasure/pain faces she was making. <gggnnnnh!> she was heaving
herself against his penis, attempting to drive him deeper. She suddenly
went wild, lunging her hips, thrashing her head from side to side until
the long dark hair he admired covered her face.
His come started to flow internally. His eyes clenched he pulsed as the
tide of orgasm leapt within and erupted from his cock. She screamed
with delight from a wrenching orgasm of her own.
Probably, he reflected, her first and only so far. She came down from it
quickly enough, still panting from the physical release.
He rolled off and out of her. He patted her thighs before he got up to
dispose of the cum filled condom.
"On Monday, you go to your OBY/GYN and get a prescription for the pill so
we can do this any time." he announced. She simply nodded, and curled up
in pleasant repose.
====
He had gone to the bathroom. She was grinning at him when he returned.
"I made that pretty difficult to get to, didn't I." she was trying to re-
establish some kind of control. He could tell, and wasn't having any.
"As I said earlier, you are now my chattel. My personal property. Do you
know what I meant?"
"Not entirely, but I'll be your property if you'll be mine," she offered,
trying to entice him to relinquish some of his control. If she'd made an
offer like this two weeks earlier, he might be making wedding plans
with her right now. She was still egocentric, and he had already laid the
program in place for her change in attitude.
"No, I think you will become my pet. A sex slave and lover. My property
to use or dispose of as I will. You behaved very badly making me listen
to you whimper that we shouldn't screw. Now I think you need to be
punished."
"But," and he could clearly see in her hesitation the internal questioning
of her own views and justification of his. Her shame at the behavior she
still thought of as slutty also rose. Who better to punish her for
enjoying sex than Bob. "ohhh!"
"Why don't you take the cover to the laundry, right now, and get the
blood you dripped off?"
"But Bob, it's midnight!, I've got to get home or I won't get any sleep!"
"You're staying the night. In the morning, I want bacon and eggs, say an
omelet, ready by the time I get out of the shower."
His change in demeanor had her stumped. But she apparently felt his
assertions were appropriate. She folded the cover into a mass she could
carry and took it, stark naked, to the laundry downstairs.
He turned down the sheets and allowed himself a short nap while she
worked.
====
Bob felt Betty watching him with tenderness.
She had the cover folded on her naked lap as she sat on the edge of the
bed. He could sense within her a thought he hadn't planted intentionally.
She had developed an obsession for him. Seeking inside her the source of
this obsession led him back to the source of resistance he'd dissolve
earlier.
Instead of the towering mother image before the little girl, there was
now a towering image of himself speaking to the grown Betty who was
virtually worshipping at his feet. The image was telling her she was
his property, she had to do as he said.
He withdrew the probe and opened his eyes. Well, he thought, interesting
that she needs an internal governor to keep her content. Now that she's
rid of mommy as a moral monitor, she'd selected him instead. Good
enough for now.
"Put it over the bed and get in. I want to sleep now." She nodded and
slipped between the covers. He felt her nestle her bare little tush
against his flaccid organ. He reached around her to cuddle her, cupping
one of her tits in his hand.
Shortly, he slept again.
====
He awoke, finding Betty with her eyes open. She didn't seem to want to
move, since he still had her wrapped in his arms. She smiled as his eyes
connected with hers.
"Good morning." she whispered, as though the neighbors might hear.
Little did she know, the neighbors were likely to be too busy with each
other to care if she stayed overnight.
"Mmmm, yeah." He untangled himself from her and looked at the clock.
"Well, I gotta get up. You can make breakfast, just the way you are."
Her face fell the tiniest bit, but perked right up again.
"Right away!" she zipped out of the room.
Bob took another slow, sensuous shower, enjoying the water's warmth.
He got himself thoroughly cleaned up, shaved, and dressed. When he got
downstairs, Betty had managed, even naked, to get the table set, make
the omelet and bacon he'd ordered last night, and clean some of the
associated mess in the kitchen. Good girl, he thought.
"May I get dressed now, Bob?" she inquired. Her dark hair was tickling
the top of her ass, and where strands of it dropped down the front, it
almost slipped into her delectable little pussy.
"Ah, no, I'm enjoying the view." he muttered, wondering if he could hold
his urges back until after he ate. She shrugged and sat at the other plate
she'd put out.
He added some salt and pepper to the omelet, and began to eat. She
waited with her hands in her lap.
"You may eat too, I wouldn't want you to go hungry." She gave a wanton
look at him and began to dig in.
"Now, this week I expect you to start the process of moving in here. And
I don't want any little nonsensical garbage taking up too much space, so
check with me if you've any doubt what can stay."
"Oh, really!, I can probably move everything in by Wednesday!" She was
now rather gleeful as she attacked the bacon. He hung on every glimpse
of her pink tongue darting for the corners of her mouth.
"And you'll help Randi move in too." he added. The seemed to shake her
like a thunderbolt!
"Who?"
"Randi, another sex toy I own, a lot like you, only I think she likes
girls a bit."
Apprehension overtook the naked girl, she was suddenly trying to cope
with the concept of sharing him, and possibly fending off the advances
of a predatory lesbian!
"She's very nice, I assure you. The two of you will get along
famously." He added, watching her struggle with his evidently
superior opinion against her childhood trained fears. He threw in
something else to get her mind on something else, "I'd like you to
try harder to wear sexier outfits around the house too."
"Okay Bob, if you'd like that, I'll see what I can do."
Soon he'd finished eating. He pushed his chair out and watched her clean
the plate before her.
"Since you are being so helpful this morning, you'd better take care of
another little detail right now."
"Oh, what...?" she looked puzzled. He beckoned her to him.
She had the same sexy walk without the encumbering clothing although,
he felt, some concealment added a touch to the effect. She stepped to
him and brushed her hair back over her shoulders.
"Kneel down." still puzzled she did, "now you are going to blow me."
Shocked, she shook her head with terror, as though he was about to
throw her to wild tigers. He grinned.
"You will do this for me, but since you are frightened, why don't you
tell me what scares you about going down on me."
"I, I just couldn't take your th.., cock in my mouth! Its dirty! and,
er, disgusting..." He eased each of her fears aside within her, as
she mentioned them. Taking control of her volitional muscles he began
bringing her lips to his prick. He pushed the control to the point her
lips opened and that favorite little pink tongue he liked to watch
snaked out and slid across the head of his organ. Gawd, that felt
good.
"I, <gulp>, can't do this. It, <slurp> its vulgar!" She said between
licks. He firmly took a handful of the long dark hair in his fist,
holding it so she couldn't move away. Not that this was necessary,
but it felt so good to hold while he fucked her tender face.
"You'll do it, and probably find you like it." a fact he was sure of,
although he didn't enforce this enjoyment on her part yet. "Open up a
bit."
Taking the head into her mouth she rolled his cock between both sets
of teeth. She was still somewhat repulsed at this demanding method of
entry to her body, but she was showing determination to please Bob.
"Eventually, I will take your ass too. You should get used to the idea
that I will take you whenever and where-ever I want. Agreed?" He
pulled out to let her speak.
"Oh, uh, yes Bob, any time, any place." She dove into her new task
with energy, if not experience. He relented a little, opening the
paths of symbols that would allow her enjoyment while blowing him.
She became more enthusiastic, almost immediately. She found any loose
edge or surface on his prick to reach her tongue around. He started
pulling her head towards him, starting her retching from the
autonomic response of gagging. He allowed her to pull back to
recover. While she did he moved her hands for her to wrap around his
cock, she got the idea quickly and massaged it until she could get
her lips back in place around her new project. He thrust towards the
back of her throat and allowed his orgasm to build.
"I'mmm commming," he admitted as he pushed towards the back of her
mouth. She looked concerned, but as his semen lurched from his penis
to her mouth she closed her eyes and swallowed. Pulling back, while
he was still coming, some of his come splattered over her face.
He settled back, enjoying the post orgasm buzz.
She reached for a napkin. He stopped her hand with his. She looked
quizzically at him.
"You will clean up after breakfast without removing the semen from
your face. This will serve to remind you who you belong to. Then you
may take a shower and dress. Get to work."
"Yes Bob." she responded.
"One more thing."
"Yes?"
"When we are alone or with my other sex toys, you will address me as
'master'." She looked down, as though this was another slap in the
face. But he could feel the humiliation bringing heat to her loins. It
would wait, just as he'd waited months before taking her.
"Yes master." was the simple reply.
He zipped up his pants.
====
"Hello?" came the woman's voice on the phone.
"Randi, this is Bob."
"Yes, Bo..., er master?"
"I want you to start the process to move in here, you will find Betty
here this afternoon. She will give you a copy of the house key." "Oh yes!,
I mean, yes master!" She'd certainly turned, he thought. "One other
thing. You don't touch her. Do you hear me?"
"Yes master."
"She will have as much right to tell you what to do as I do, at least for
now, do you understand?"
"Um, yes master."
"Bye." Click.
====
About noon, the doorbell rang. Pretty quick for Randi to get here,
thought Bob. Since Betty was in the shower, he knew she hadn't stepped
out to get anything.
At the door was a tall woman, about 5'11" wearing a dress suit in gray.
She had very short brownish hair, almost as if it had been shaved off
and had just grown back in enough to look presentable. She was slender,
very busty, and had attractive ankles showing above the flats she was
wearing.
"Hello." she said in a deep throaty voice. A whiskey tenor perhaps.
"How may I help you?" he asked. The temptation to reach out and probe
this stranger was strong, but he resisted.
"May I come in? The institute knows me by face and may have searchers
anywhere."
"The what?" He replied, stunned by the implication that she had found
him, rather than the other way around.
"At the mall Friday, you diverted them away from me. Please?" She
waved her hand inwards.
Bob stood aside, letting the other telepath into his home, wondering
what her story was.
====
More, again... if/when, as before
-Blackie
--
I will ignore all requests for: reposts, e-mailing parts, ftp/gif/archive
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Path: holytoy!seunet!seunet!sunic!news.funet.fi!news.eunet.fi!EU.net!howland.reston.ans.net!vixen.cso.uiuc.edu!laff
From: laff@sal.cs.uiuc.edu (Joshua A Laff)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: ARCHIVE: the-book-4.Z
Message-ID: <2tuaef$br2@vixen.cso.uiuc.edu>
Date: 18 Jun 1994 08:15:11 GMT
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Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Organization: University of Illinois at Urbana
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This story is another from the archives, and is not written by me.
Requests for just about anything concerning these posts will be ignored.
See the FAQ in a.s.s.d for more information. And stop sending talk
requests. Even when I'm logged in to this posting site, I usually
have the window closed, and if I don't, it's because I'm WORKING
The further adventures in _The Book_ series, an adolescent fantasy
Nonconsensual, m/f,f/f, some mild violence, nursing woman...
The story follows this
***** Public Service Statement *****
The following story contains a 'scene' with a lactating woman.
This is at least in part because of the number of responses I
received from a number of readers who caught the mild hint in an
earlier entry of _The Book_ series. Apparently many people share this
particular fetish, although it is not a simple task to attain the
experience. In part, this is because women who are nursing may or may
not let the kid's father nurse, but a woman would need a very special
relationship to nurse another woman. Them's da breaks.
A few items of interest on nursing mothers...
** A MOTHER NURSING HER BABY IS NOT EVEN REMOTELY SEXY ** If she is
nursing her baby, she is feeding the child, not posing for someone's
fantasy. It is hard enough to nurse an infant, don't make it harder on
any woman you happen to see in the middle of the act. Ignore it, look
the other way, or even better, treat it as a natural act- the same as
walking or talking. Do not annoy someone trying to raise their baby
properly.
More mothers are nursing children on the recommendation of doctors for
a simple reason. It's healthier for the baby to nurse. Doctors in the
US will acknowledge the child's first 3-6 months should be nourished
by nursing.
There are a reasons it is healthier for the baby, including the
biological-chemical signals from the mother's immune system to the
baby delivered via the milk.
It's also healthy for the mother; a significant percentage reduction
in the risk of breast cancer results from nursing for a reasonable
duration (I forget the actual statistic, does it matter?).
Lastly, it is probably the most important part of emotional bonding
between the mother and the infant. In their entire lives, there is no
more intimate act the two will perform together. This assertion TM by
a variety of child care pundits.
If you are interesting in Breast Feeding your child (not the adult
infant you keep as a pet), I strongly recommend you contact, in the
US anyway, the _La Leche League_ (I've been known to call them 'the
leaky league'). They have active chapters in most communities.
Although I personally feel they have an anti-male bias, frequently
ignoring an important support element of the mother's family - the
father; I assure you they are a good organization, helping mothers
learn to nurse their children in the face of social stigma and
ignorance.
Interesting points... 1) a woman need not go through child birth to
begin lactation, 2) lactating doesn't protect against pregnancy
(contrary to popular myth), 3) Men *can* lactate, but the conditions
permitting this biological oddity are brutally unhealthy.
End of religious diatribe.
** THAT SAID **
There is *enormous* sensual pleasure suckling at a lactating woman's
breast. The act is more giving and emotional on both parties part in
addition to the simple sensualistic performance. This can lead to
several fun scenes, which may be explored in the story line
following. Wanna lay odds on that?
_Book, What Book?_
Bob looked at the clock. It was a little after noon.
The tall woman in the gray suit now sat in his arm chair, drinking a
cup of caf. Bob had a plastic cup filled with soda. She said her name
was Kim, and that was all she'd offered so far.
Betty had gotten the woman her hot drink. Kim had snorted at her and
dismissing her as unimportant, at least for now. Betty hovered in the
kitchen, spying whenever possible on this unusual visitor.
"How did you discover you've got the 'ability'?" asked Kim.
"I read a book."
"A what!?!"
"A book. I found a book filled with interesting notes. Before I knew
it, I could read mind and influence people. Honest."
"Oh, such as your friend?" she waved her head in the direction of
the kitchen, where Betty was noisily putting the breakfast dishes away.
"I never had it so good, I didn't get any lectures or notes. So what
have you done with the little tart so far?"
His ears burned red with embarrassment, "Never mind her. Where did
you learn how to, um, well, you know..."
At this she snaked out a telepathic probe towards Betty. Quickly, Bob
intercepted it and slapped it aside. Startled, she sent a probe towards
him. It slithered around, confused in the phony personality he'd
created for telepaths to see. He just sat back, pleased with her
confusion, feeling his safety was assured.
"Oh, my... protective too," she said, eyeing him closely. The look in
her eyes akin to fear.
"Stick with the subject at hand. Where did you learn to use your,
'ability' did you call it?"
"Ability, yes, ability... well," she became reflective, "for me, you
see, before life turned upside down I was a Buyer, for Cheney's.
Perhaps you've heard of them? The department store chain?"
He nodded an affirmative, but didn't speak, encouraging her dialogue.
"I never would have developed my 'ability' if it weren't for Harry...
I was just briefly in town for a new line of merchandise, never mind
what, it no longer matters. That's when I saw Harry for the first
time. The real problem wasn't me seeing him; it was unquestionably an
issue of him seeing me..."
====
She entered the store in her favorite silk pattern blouse, and a knee
length skirt when he spotted her. Her hair was in a mane like perm,
down to her shoulder blades and dyed blonde in an almost undetectable
way, except her complexion was a little dark to make a good fit.
She had soft brown eyes he could see from the corner of the room. Her
lips formed a lush cupid's bow, and her nose was perfectly framed in
the center of the other lovely features of her face. Her expression,
a seductive perpetual pout with her eyelids lightly drooped, was
unintentional.
She was tall to begin with and wore 3 inch heel shoes in an 1940's
style he could only remember seeing before in old movies. Her shape
through the hips was only slightly curved, but her chest, well her
chest stood out indescribably far.
He had been using his power for a day when he'd seen her, but he knew
immediately he had to have her. His approach was simple and direct,
he ordered her to turn about immediately and go to his home.
He picked up the packages he'd 'purchased' so far, making the sales
girl believe he was entitled to such gifts.
Of course, the other gifts he accepted from her before he left included
squeezing her tits, groping her cunt, and that great blow job. He made
sure to get her phone number, ordering her to forget the encounter.
She even told him how wonderful it was to serve him, with a
godalmighty radiant smile. He'd told her to, after all.
The power made him giddy. Harry, oh you know, he was the kind of guy
who now believed he was God. He'd always knew he was entitled to
anything he wanted, no matter how he got it, and now, well, now he got
it.
====
She was waiting, somewhat glossy eyed at the door to his apartment
when he arrived. His command of the talent was a little odd. He seemed
to think it was hypnosis, and his orders tended put his chosen ones
into trances.
"I'm going to take some of my orders off you. When I do, you will be
unable to leave, but able to speak your on your own. You understand?"
She didn't respond. It took him a moment to figure he hadn't let go
enough to let her do so. This was new for him too. Up until now, all
he did was force girls he'd taken to perform sex with him. This was
making him happy so far. But he was gonna step up. She was gonna talk
to him too.
"What have you done to me?" she demanded. She would have stamped a
foot, but didn't seem able to move it.
"Taken control. You will do anything I say, and at least act like you
like it too." he answered.
"You disgusting brute. There are names for creatures like you, but I
won't insult the others by associating you with them!"
"Step inside please," he said opening the door.
"Not on your fucking life!, I'm going to scream!" She began to do so,
but, Harry's seen that before. He smiled.
"Every time you scream for help, instead you will beg for me to hit
you. If you try to call or ask for help when other folks are around,
you will have an urge to nibble sexily on my ear."
"Please hit me," came from her mouth, much to her surprise. "oh, no."
she clasped her hands over her disobedient lips.
He waved her inside. Kim found her feet and legs were answering to
another set of commands than her own. She walked inside.
The apartment was a dump. No one had cleaned inside for at least a
week. The art on the walls was mostly pin-ups from pornographic
magazines, or tasteless posters for violent horror movies.
"You don't really expect me to stay, do you?" she tried again to turn
and leave, "I simply won't put up with this!"
"Oh, you have no choice. If I want, you'll crawl to me on your belly
and beg me to keep you in a kennel. Good thing for you all I want is
a good fuck. You'll like it."
"That's it!" and she walked, no she didn't! so she said "hit me, I beg
you, hit me." Tears ran down her cheeks.
He was giggling, in a sneering sort of way. Harry thought this was
more fun than just turning the other girls into pliant blow-up dolls.
She stood, stunned at her inability to control her own body.
"Get undressed in the bedroom. I'm gonna get a beer, and I'll be in
in a moment." He sneered a little. She realized his sneer could get
worse.
Her volition missing, she went to the bedroom. This proved to be a
room strewn with clothing, probably the pile against the corner were
the clean ones. A mattress lay on the floor. The sheet was loosely
tucked under it in a few places.
Her beautiful silk blouse she folded up next to her shoes. The skirt
was placed upon the blouse. Her high heels were put along to one
side. She was unsnapping the bra when Harry came in.
"WOW." he exclaimed. "Those are the largest fucking bazooms I've ever
seen on a broad." He took the immediate liberty of wrapping both hands
around one breast and squeezing.
His expectation of her response didn't mesh with her actual response.
He wanted a moan or a sigh, and when this didn't come he frowned. He
added a new command.
"You'll get hot every time I touch you. This will make you get horny
and want to come. But you can't come 'til I say so." and then he
used the power to make her do as he said.
Harry was very sexy. She could now see how handsome he was. He had
her nipples between his fingers and was twisting them, very hard.
This had an effect of drawing sexual heat through her chest. Her
knees wanted to buckle, but she had to get to the bed.
She was kissing Harry. She just wrapped her arms around his neck and
dove into his lips. He was great! There wasn't enough to him to get
her desires fulfilled. She didn't know how she had missed it before!
She rubbed her breasts on either side of his lust covered face. Her
feminine hands felt for Harry's prick in his crotch.
Since his pants were in the way, she began to strip them off him. She
couldn't move far without rubbing her crotch against some part of
Harry's body. The more she touched him or the more he touched her, the
farther she went down the path of desire. Yet it was a yearning for
an orgasm that wasn't coming.
"Okay slut. You're so fucking hot. You gotta get me hot. Start suckin'
my wang." he pushed her head down to his crotch.
She'd actually never performed oral sex before. As she placed the male
organ in her mouth, she began to suck it like a straw. This made her
hot too, since just touching Harry was enough to make her lust for
orgasm, and desparate for more. Unsastified by her clumsy efforts, he
fucked her wet mouth with force, plunging against the teeth at the back,
unconcerned how it worked out.
"Suck it, cunt. Yeah suck it." He continued to pump, thrilled about
the incredible woman wringing his juices out of his cock. "oooohh,
yeaa.. fukit fukit... uhhh."
A surge of come entered her mouth, she choked, not thinking to
swallow. The come dribbled out the sides of her mouth and down her
chin to drip on Harry's legs.
"You fukin' bitch! Don't you know enough to swallow it?" He shouted,
his displeasure overriding his enjoyment. Somehow, he overlooked his
explicit control of her behavior.
She shook her head, upset that she'd failed to please Harry. She
swallowed what was left, and began to clean him off with her tongue
and lips.
"Yeah, use your tongue bitch! Clean it all off." She did as told,
aroused again by the contact. Her body was humping at the hips madly.
Her legs were squeezing together in sheer lust. She began to feel her
own cunt and clit, trying to get off without success.
She was licking the come off his balls and cock. Soon it began to stiffen
up again. She was pleased. Now he could get her off. She wanted his
cock inside her. She didn't care how brutal he acted as long as she
got to have him.
"All right!" He slammed her onto her back. She anxiously, with
excitement, pulled her legs apart so he could gain easy access. He
couldn't get in her womanly box fast enough for her.
He pinned each of her wrists above her head, allowing himself a better
view of the helpless woman. She could sense that bruises would grace
both arms and wrists afterwards. Fighting through the haze of
orgasmic lust, she hoped for the release to come. Hoping the
frustrating wait for orgasm would reward her with the energy it was
promising.
He pushed his prick between her cunt lips, thrusting his entry once
the head was in. The heat surged upwards from her groin, not yet
breaching her chest and throat. She pulsed against his cock, hoping
for each pistoned join to throw her over, glad of the chance to
take such pleasure with Harry.
Harry, lost in her cunt, was in heaven. Such a righteous chick to
take. The strongest aphrodesiac ever, this power to force her. She
was all his, she couldn't leave. He would even give her a name, one
he liked, and she would like it too.
His body pressed against hers, he could feel her nipples. She felt the
shock of electric excitement spin through her boobs. She needed this
fuck so badly. Harry was the best.
Suddenly, he grunted. "ungh, ungh aaaaaaaa FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK" and he
sent a warm liquid rush into her cunt. She could feel it flood through
her vagina, escaping around the edges of his cock. The dripping
overflow tickled the backs of her thighs and slipped over her ass.
Harry rolled aside. Kim kept trying to hump against his legs. Her
fevered pitch was becoming higher and more frantic. She had to come,
only he could make her. As if she were a dog in heat, she kept trying
to get his attention.
She held his leg against her crotch, with her head performing
whiplash twists as she moaned, "Please, ooooo, pleeaase, unnng,
ooohhh, aaannngg, gggg, ggg ggg, nnnnghh. Oh fuck me, pllllleeeaaaaa,
aah aaah ahhh, ssssss"
Almost as if he didn't really want to acknowledge her, he said, "You
slut, heh, can I call you slut now?"
"Yess, fuck me, fuck me, call me, uh, anything you want, slut is
fine, please, just please, fuck me." Then Harry took one nipple in
his mouth and bit down, hard. This sent a jolt of sexual pleasure
through her body.
"You're my fuckin' bitch now. Say it. Say you belong to me."
"God, yes. please fuck me, unnh, I, unnn"
"Not until you say it bitch. Say you are mine, all mine."
"GGGnnn! I'm your slut, your bitch, aaaa, gawdamn, fuck me please
fuck me."
He grinned with superiority. "Come when I stick my finger up your
ass...," he commanded.
"Oh god, unnnhhh, please... fuck..." she moaned deeply. She'd never
liked anything in her ass before, but she'd do anything for the final
jolt of orgasm that was building. "GOD!, please take my ass soon.
aaaah"
He lost his face in her large tits again. She was desparate to come,
unwilling to irritate him, her greatest desire was to please him,
to convince him to make her come. She begged, she pleaded for his
finger, for any touch of that finger, in her ass right away.
He moved a hand onto her ass. The cheek was firm and muscular. She
lurched in both arousal and anticipation. Both cheeks were pinching
in and out to excite her pussy. With a suddenness, borne of taunting,
he plunged a finger up her ass. This too gave her unexpected
pleasure, but most importantly, the release she was waiting for...
"OOOOOOOOOOEEEEEEAAAAAAEEEAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHNNNNNGNNGGGOD!" she screamed.
And began to collapse, limp as a dish rag.
====
He took her again. Each time in a way she'd heard of but never dreamed
she'd find enjoyable. His turn-on seemed to be anything he could force
on her, and she would like it. He was always in charge, always
calling the shots, always overriding her initial feelings. She was
expected to remember what he liked, and do it for him without being
told.
He called her Bambi. He said it suited her. She felt particularly
humiliated by this, she'd known a woman named Bambi who was a
prostitute. When he learned this he was particularly proud of
himself. She was only to answer to Bambi whenever anyone addressed
her.
He programmed her to come whenever he held her wrist and squeezed her
elbow. She had some lurching, far less than secret orgasms on public
buses, in the bank, outside a high school window. The little boys
were lewdly staring through the windows. She could imagine their wet
little dongs, dripping in their pants. He made her come twice that
time.
Once, it was a crowded elevator. He told her to expose her boobs to
the guys on the elevator. Everyone was allowed a feel, he insisted.
He allowed her to accept money from one of the men, embarrassing her
even more.
The humiliation excited her almost as much as his touch. He made her
come for every man on that elevator at least once, and blow the last
guy on the top floor. She wasn't allowed to swallow the semen until
they got back downstairs.
He got other women, when she got a little boring. Then she did things
like video-tape him when he was screwing. But he was too thrilled with
her huge tits to let her go...
She lived with him for almost a year this way. She prayed he would
never throw him out. She needed him so badly, needed the humiliation,
the public shame. He was her dream man. The man she knew she always
needed. She came to feel this was certain. She'd never known a better
lover.
He decided he needed a new apartment. Since there was no reason to
pay for anything he could get free, it was a large apartment. And he
got a maid to come clean it up. She also did his prick once in
awhile.
Bambi didn't mind. It was important for her to see him using other
women too. She wanted him to have some variety. He kept her though,
so she must be better, she felt.
He collected a few nice cars for himself. And a good stereo, some
furniture that wasn't shabby at all, thank you. Nor were the two
legged furniture he collected shabby either.
And eventually, he collected some new friends, unexpected friends.
====
They came while he was out. Several large men with hypodermics.
They'd given her a shot, not at all concerned that she was naked in
high heels when she answered the door. A few minutes later, she slept.
When she awoke she was in a bedroom, an entire wall was mirror. She
screamed for Harry for a while. She thought he must have come up with
a new way to embarrass her, maybe selling her into a brothel.
A man came in from time to time to ask her questions; who was she?
(Bambi), where did she live? (with Harry), what did she do? (fuck
mostly)...
At one point a different man came in and tried to fuck her. What he
really did was try to seduce her in a very before-she-met-Harry
manner. The idea someone was watching from behind the mirror was
exciting, but not enough to get her engines going.
The man was disappointed, but didn't seem upset with her.
Later, a woman tried the same thing. Bambi, wasn't interested, thank
you. Harry said such things were disgusting, she thought it was
pretty vile too.
It was after she got frustrated about not getting laid, she had no
idea why, the change came.
The next time a man came to ask her questions. He had no idea what he
was in for...
====
She reached out with her mind and made him slap her. Her loins rose,
entirely aflame. She did something to him, making him use his
strength to force himself on her.
In moments, he'd torn off the clothes she'd been given, thin hospital
like things. He twisted her nipples as hard as he could, sitting on
her to keep her from fighting back. She would have scores of new
bruises afterwards. She loved it.
She was hot and ready. Her cunt was drenched. He wrenched her arms
behind her back, pushing her on her back to hold them there. Then he
used his knees to separate her legs and opened his pants up one
handed.
While her head was thrashing left to right, emitting gasps and the
beginnings of a panting rhythm, he pressed his cock into her. She'd
done something to hold him back for a time, she wasn't sure what.
He pounded away at her, giving her biting kisses that bruised her lips
in ways she found tantalizing. From time to time he slapped her
breasts open handed. Almost invariably, somewhere she wanted it.
"aaaannnNNNNGGGGGGOOOOOOODAMMMMMM!" she screamed, releasing an orgasm
to rival the one she'd first had with Harry. The man began to fill her
with his come, squeezed almost dry by the combination of her muscled
cunt and his intensity. He collapsed immediately, completely spent.
While she lay there, panting with only reminiscences of the release,
several men rushed in the room. The needles stabbed her before she'd
known what hit her. The pain was a pleasant aftershock.
How did they know she was responsible for the whole thing...?
====
"Eventually, I woke up in a lab. These guys had something that
stops you from controlling them. They shaved my head to attach some
kind of monitoring equipment. I think it was a couple of weeks before
I got away though, it might have been longer."
"How'd you do that?" Bob asked.
"Some people never remember to check batteries." So, he thought, a
carelessness they may never repeat, "One day, one of the guys forgot
it for his whiz box. I got control and he helped me escape. Not before
I got to see how telepaths are treated, though. Harry, well, Harry is
as good as dead."
"And they've hunted you ever since."
"Well, I set myself up for a while, even had a bunch of toy men to
serve me. Like you have that little twat on a leash." she grinned a
weak grin, "its nice to have 3 men at once, at my beck and call.
Especially since they did exactly what I wanted. But somehow the
Institute found my hideout."
"They've got a radar like gimmick they use to search out telepaths."
"I may have gotten careless. I went to visit Harry's old place.
Friday at the mall I was trying to shake the ones watching for me to
come back. You bailed me out by distracting them. I got your address
from, um, well, you know."
"I think so. Well, there's at least one more telepath out there we should
help stay away from these goons. But you should relax first. Where
have you been staying?"
"In one of the department stores. No one sees me unless I want them
to."
"I see. I don't want you here though, you know."
"Um, well yeah, think I might interfere with your little trollop, eh?'
His ears burned again. Betty was making too much noise to hear
anything though.
"Oh, the possibility had occurred to me. But it also occurs to me,
both of us are threatened as long as the 'Institute' is hunting for
anyone with, er, 'ability'. And you might draw them to me and the
other way around too."
"Look, I'll promise to leave your 'toys' be, I'll even join in if you
want. I get awfully horny, and Harry isn't around anymore. I don't
even know what of me was his instructions and how much was me before
Harry." she made a sincere plea.
"Yeah, I'll think on it. The idea of another telepath in the house
just is a little hard to accept. It may be a little complicated."
Reluctantly, she left an address with him. But not before giving
Betty a withering look of disapproval. Betty didn't notice.
Bob did.
====
Bob was in an apartment building near the mall. It was Thursday. His
excitement had returned, the 'hunters' a distant threat. He hadn't yet
decided what to do about Bambi nee Kim. But he felt a need to practise
his talent.
Since Betty had started to take over the household chores, little
things he had lost had been turning up. Organization had come to his
home. Betty didn't like sharing him with Randi, and strongly disliked
being left alone with "the pushy dyke".
She hadn't completely given up hope of being dominant in some manner
over the household. Mostly, she and Randi had begun to compete for
his attention by any means possible. So she strove to please him in
ways other than sexual too.
He'd found a slip of paper on his dresser. One of them had found it in
his papers and left it where he'd find it. This had the name and
address of a young woman on it. It took him a few minutes to recall
where this had come from.
She'd never met him, but he remembered her from the mall. She was
lusting after new mothers walking throughout the mall. Suddenly he was
enticed to seek her out.
He found the address easily. He resisted the temptation to use his
talent right away, so he rang the bell, but no one answered. He found
the superintendent. Soon he was in Mary McKinnon's apartment, and no
one would remember seeing him enter.
Somehow, to Bob, pawing about in Mary's apartment was as exciting as
intruding into her mind. He had found another means of violating her,
without her having any ability to resist. The mundane nature of
intrusion was unimportant. He was having his way with her more simply
than his present norm, a pleasurable working of his will on hers.
Hell, he hadn't even met her yet. The excitement was growing in him.
Looking through her things, he was able to learn where she'd gone to
school. He found her check stubs and learned about things she bought.
Her closet was filled with pants suits, mostly. There were a very few
dresses, and nothing he construed as sexy. Everything he found he
restored to its original location.
In her desk, he found a pile of letters from her brother, dated over 5
years ago. And a few letters from other friends.
He heard keys being juggled at the lock. Turning out the lights, he
watched the door open as she stepped inside. She closed the door
again, and turned about, placing her purse on a narrow table she kept
by the door. She turned on the lights, and stepped into the kitchen.
He was intrigued by this enigma. He hadn't probed her since the mall.
She made noise in the kitchen for a while, and he simply waited. When
she finally came into the living room, she jumped with a terror
brought of confronting an intruder.
"Hello Mary." he uttered in a low voice.
"Who the hell are you and how the fuck did you get in here?!?" she
demanded scrambling towards the phone.
"I came with a proposition to make." She stood, receiver in hand,
much reassured by the dial tone. "I could have cut the phone cord if
I wanted to, before you got here."
"I guess so," she paused, "Make it quick though, my patience is thin
for this kind of crap. You broke into my home buster, and I'm gonna
see you pay." She was shaking.
"Actually, the police can't arrest me. But as to you and me, I have a
proposition. You may want to hear it." Wow!, all he'd had to do so far
was talk, she'd gone from kill first to talking.
"Get to it then, then get the hell out."
"You like women."
"I like men."
"You might, but you also want a woman, specifically, you want one
giving milk. You've been having this fantasy for a while." she shook,
as with a chill.
"yes," she whispered, the fear rising just the least amount, "I do.
But nobody knows that. Nobody. I haven't told a soul."
"Well I can arrange it for you."
"How the fuck would you do a thing like that," she banged the phone on
the switch hook. "'Excuse me Mrs., I just happen to know a girl who
wants to suck milk from your tits, would you mind coming to her
apartment tonight?', give me a break!"
He smiled. The smile shook her.
"Something a lot like that, really."
"Oh great!, sure. And what, pray tell, is in it for you!?" she
exclaimed.
"You wouldn't believe me entirely. Let us say, I want to share the
carnal experience." he thought about vampires now, sucking the sexual
energy from victims in the act. Silly thought, more reasonable to
assert he was sucking the fantasy from his victim's act tonight. "I
have a talent. It's a powerful skill allowing me a certain persuasive
ability. I'm trying real hard not to use it on you."
"Why not, you'd get exactly what you want, if you really have the
unique skill you claim."
"Oh, it's real enough. You want a demonstration?"
"Why? you can't give milk... men can't give milk. So who would you
persuade into giving her milk to me?"
"Men can sometimes give milk, irrelevant though. Is one of the
mothers you've leered after in the building?"
She sat down. The phone, still in her hand began to ring. She jumped.
He didn't. She answered and shooed the caller away.
"There's Patty, on the first floor. I see her when I do laundry
sometimes." Mary was showing signs of the dreamy fantasy intruding on
the conversation. "God, she's cute. Her boobs sometimes drip the milk
after she's nursed little Anna. They're almost twice as big as they
were before she got preggers. She doesn't show any sign of having
gained weight from the pregnancy."
"Can you call her? Its only about 8:30, ask her to come up here."
Reluctantly, she dialed the number.
====
She had him answer the door. She wasn't leaving the phone. Bob didn't
mind. He wouldn't let her dial more than two digits anyway.
The woman at the door was carrying a baby carrier. She also bore a
large bag, easily identified as a diaper bag. This woman evidently
was using disposable diapers. Bob refrained from his environmentalist
reaction to the disposables.
The child, sound asleep, bore the same striking resemblance of all
babies to cherubs. Finally unencumbered, Patty was able to stand
straight and Bob took in the assets she displayed.
Her dark hair was cut short, to her ears. Bob reflected this was wise
considering the disgusting things long hair could get into around
babies. She was without makeup, but still had an unblemished face,
with round soft lips. Her shoulders were wide, but the breasts were
showing themselves larger than he'd expect with her frame, probably
hadn't nursed the baby recently. Her hips were a little padded, but
her waist was slender and flat.
"Patty, this is, um, Bob. He's visiting for a few minutes."
He reached out and took some control over Patty. Then he, dramatically
for the impression Mary would get, walked to her and held her eyes
locked onto his for a moment.
"Hey, what are you doing?" Mary said.
"You want to suck milk from her tits?"
"Well, yeah, but I don't want you to hurt her either."
Bob shrugged and smiled at Mary.
"Patty," he gave verbal instructions, "Mary is more than your friend.
She is your second baby. You need to nurse your second baby. She's
been crying and you know she's hungry."
Patty smiled at Mary, took her by the hand. She led the other woman to
her couch. Sitting down so Mary could lay her head on her lap, she
lifted the t-shirt she wore and opened a flap on her nursing bra. A
moment later she lifted Mary's head and lips to her nipple and
cradled her head in her arm.
"There, there, sweetheart. Its all right. Mommy loves you, time for a
bit of nursing." Her face peered down adoringly at Mary, one hand
stroking the gentle features of Mary's face.
Mary was sucking, having forgotten Bob entirely for the moment. He
could see her cheeks pull in with the suction, as at the same time she
began to wiggle at the hips. Mary's hand slid down to her crotch and
began rubbing through the fabric of her jeans.
"Unbutton them." he said. Remembering he was there, she glared, but
obeyed.
Patty's free hand moved to the supine woman's open pants. The fingers
worked their way under the panties. Seconds later the hand was making
humping motions in Mary's crotch.
Patty, oblivious to the sexual antics of her neighbor, and her own
hand, looked briefly to see her first baby was doing well.
"unnhh," Mary was starting to fade into deep excitement. Her suckling
theft of milk was only part of her activities. Her hips were
beginning to roll and gyrate under the administration of Patty's
fingers.
Bob, excited a little himself, could see the dripping nipple from time
to time. He realized the nursing woman was starting to soak through
her t-shirt at the other breast. Kneeling over Mary's chest he lifted
the t-shirt to expose the other breast, harnessed in a bra cup with a
snap clasp front. He opened this, unwrapping the last vestige of
protection for the wet nipple.
Patty's breast was extremely firm from the engorgement of milk, this
tit was full. Watching the nipple he could see the milk spraying, in
several directions at once. The suckling at the other nipple got this
one started as well. Placing his lips around the puffy nipple he
found it was spurting milk in tiny thin streams of fluid.
The milk was sweet, he found, very sweet, and very thin. It was
almost like skim milk someone had added a bit of sugar to. He sucked
until he got a mouthful of the thin sugary liquid, then swallowed.
He swallowed as much as he could get. He was becoming very horny, but
he was unwilling to stop nursing while a drop remained. He knew she'd
produce more for the baby. The breast slowly began to sag as he
emptied the precious nectar from her. His thirst for the rare ambrosia
was unquenchable, he felt frustrated at the slow rate the milk flowed
from the woman's breast.
Meantime, Mary reached a state where she could no longer suck. The
moans were spectacular. "Oh god. What, oh, fuck, make me come baby.
make me come." she was a step a way and Patty kept fingering her while
Bob sucked the teat. "Oh! oh! oh! oh, YESSSSSSSS!" and Mary clenched
with spasms from coming. She lay panting, beneath him, trying to
recover from her orgasm.
Patty, under Bob's direct control, caressed his hair as he enjoyed the
stolen nourishment. It thrilled him to have Mary trapped beneath him
while he fulfilled her fantasy for himself. He got up after another
moment. Then he took off his pants.
"What are you doing!?" Mary asked, it seemed she was not expecting
him to actually join in.
"You got off, I want to get off." He moved Patty to the floor, drawing
her jeans off her legs. He pulled off her panties and spread her legs.
"You're disgusting. Her baby is right there."
"The child is asleep. You should talk about disgusting. You wanted to
suckle at a new mother's breast. Well, I gave you your fantasy. I'm
also enjoying her pussy." He plunged his prick into the mesmorized
mother's cunt. He pumped his cock in a few times to work the moisture
into flowing.
Mary, intrigued by her friend's complacency at being fucked by a total
stranger, knelt down beside the two of them. She seemed a little
disturbed by something.
"Um, I know it may be too late to offer," she began.
"Yeah, what is it," he tickled the woman on the floor with his power
to help excite her sexual interest.
"You can fuck me instead."
He laughed as he thrust again, this time receiving a resounding moan
of pleasure from Patty.
"I can do you too, if I want." He carried on the conversation without
slowing the rate of his strokes.
"You can do me too. No argument. You lived up to your promise. I, I,
wow, she's fantastic to watch in sex. Are all women this neat to
watch? Do I look like this when I...?" She stared at the writhing
woman beneath Bob. "Oh, yeah. Fuck her good!" She got intensely
fascinated by the present view. Her chin wobbled and lurched right
along with the other woman's motions, her lips forming similar
expressions.
"Uhnnn, yeah, even you. unnn, you really have, ohhh yeah, developed a
streak, oh shit yeah, of lesbianism." grunt.
"fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, don't, oh don't" mumbled the mother. Mary
leant down and sucked at Patty's breasts, licking and nibbling at the
whole tit, not just the nipple. "OOOOOHHHH YESSS" came from the
mother, excited by the contact. The lust filled attack brought more
milk from the undulating breast.
"My, you really are getting into this." Bob spoke mostly to himself.
With a grin, he remembered, Mary was in no way under his direct
control. It made a difference in his excitement.
The pressure grew in his groin. With a burst of humping, he loosed
his seed within the woman pinned below. He pushed the cock into her a
few more times, allowing the surge to ride along.
Patty in due turn let out a screeching orgasm of her own. Mary,
twisting her friend's nipples, milk dribbling between her fingers,
could scarcely hold on. The thrusting hips were in motion still as
Patty began to come down again, glowing from having been sexed.
Bob stood and walked out to the kitchen. Coming back with a glass of
water, he sat, still half dressed, on the couch.
Mary was stroking her friend's breasts, her legs, her stomach. Patty
didn't seem to notice at the moment. Bob took the mesmerization
instructions away a little at a time, leaving a strong desire for
secret liaison with Mary.
"Patty will come to believe you two have been secret lovers for some
time. It will be a secret, her husband won't know, she won't let him
know. Not even by accident, because she'll forget whenever she's not
with you or talking to you on the phone." He told Mary.
"How did you do that?" she asked. He smiled, self satisfaction over
his control of these women was rising. Power was itself arousing.
"It doesn't matter. It's done."
"What is your price for this, this, this, I don't know what to call
it." she looked fearful, she hadn't been since before Patty had offered
her tit to her. "What is it you want, really?"
"Well, for now," he leered a bit, "tonight you will do everything to
satisfy me, complete sexual slavery, without me having to use my
talent on you." he paused, "I suppose in the future you'll allow me
free use of you any time I want, of course, I can set you up with a
few more playthings. I guess I want your total trust and loyalty in
exchange for the gifts I'll be giving you. But it doesn't matter,
since I can force it on you if you misbehave. I'd just rather you did
it of your own free will."
She bit her lower lip. She fondled Patty, and Patty, somewhat
conscious, began to fondle Mary's breasts. Clumsily, she felt for
Mary's nipples, smiling up with an intense expression of love and
lust.
She gulped.
"Okay, I'd sell my soul for this," she muttered. "Can I, I mean, do
you mind if I...?"
"Oh, by all means let her take you for another ride, but I'm going to
take you next." He sat back to watch.
The two women began to neck. The frantic kisses were briefly
interrupted by the baby, who chose that moment to wake up crying.
Bob frowned, little brat, how dare it interfere. He stepped over to
the small cradle like carrier. Unsnapping the little safety belt he
picked the little creature up under its arms. He began carefully, as
if playing with eggs, tucked its head onto his shoulder and began to
pat the back. Hey, this was pretty cool, the little, eh... girl, was
cooing in his ear. Well, let's see, he thought. Wet?, he tried to
figure out whether the diaper was too far gone.
The two nearly naked women were staring at him, Mary's jaw hanging
loosely.
"What's your problem," he snapped. "Never saw a guy snuggle a baby
before?"
"Well, yesss," she answered, "But Anna doesn't even let her father hold
her."
The kid started to burble. Bob was enjoying the tiny innocent he held.
The little ball of flesh was actually grinning at him. It took a little
time, but the fuzz topped bundle did fall back to sleep.
Mary plunged herself back into Patty's eager embrace. This woman was
determined to make the most of this particular opportunity.
They necked for a time. Trading tiny little lip nibbles on each
other's face and neck, they slowly aroused their urges until they
began petting the exposed breasts and cunts. Ultimately they ground
their cunts together, Mary on top, while totally wrapped up in their
kissing.
The moans and groans lasted some time before the two spasmotically
unleashed their orgasms. Mary's hair had become scraggly strands
covered with sweat, Patty was covered with her own dripping fluids of
all kinds.
Patty took the kid down to her apartment, leaving him with Mary.
====
It was completely different giving verbal instructions, rather than
manipulating her.
Mary was anxious to please him though. She went down on him right
away, no arguments. Her pink-red tongue lashed the length of his cock
with her saliva. He could tell she had little experience at blowing
guys, but she made up for the lack with enthusiasm. He told her
verbally to cushion her teeth with her lips and tongue, and how to
warn him if she was gagging.
She spread her legs at his command once he got hard again, and did
everything she could to excite him. She pleaded in his ear for his
cock. She fingered his balls gently. She kissed him as passionately
as she had kissed Patty. Her breasts pressed excitedly against his
chest.
She wasn't as responsive to his touch as she was to Patty's though,
and this excited him too. The idea she would literally do anything
for him, made her more his property in some ways than Fran was. This
held more power than the talent alone delivered. Fran was totally
remade for his use, a whole new person underneath. Mary had
voluntarily given her body in payment. She probably would worship him
publicly if he so much as suggested it.
His cock entered the self acclaimed toy he now owned by purchase,
rather than simple seizure. She was moist, having aroused herself, if
by no other means, by the memory of Patty's dripping nipples.
Bob held off on purpose. He waiting for her breath to pick up. He
wanted to hear her pant.
After a few minutes she started to writhe with lust. The passion she
used throwing herself into the act with him raised fires within. Her
hips rose and fell with each thrust of his cock. Her teeth clenched
shut, pressuring herself, trying to bring herself off. Her body
developed a glossy sheen from the sweat she devoted to the act.
"Unnnngh," moaned from her throat, "aaah, please, oh god, please."
Suddenly her eyes clenched tightly, like her teeth. A stuttering
orgasm worked her muscles and breath.
Bob let his orgasm loose, spurting a burst of cum into Mary. He
drooped over to her side.
She panted, but turned to him immediately. She planted lust filled
kisses anywhere he didn't seem to be moving. Determined she would
fill her part of their bargain, doing her best to convince him of her
pleasure in doing so. Energetically, her movements became fluid and
sensual, almost romantic in devotion.
They screwed again before he left, satisfied she belonged to him as
surely as Fran, Randi, and Betty.
He gave her his phone number and address. She clenched tightly to the
slip of paper as though a life-line, a tight hold on her deepest
desires.
====
Friday, he went in to work and resigned. The talent would provide
income if he had enough seed money.
He took the money he had, a tidy, not overwhelming sum, and invested
it. A few calls here and there, some light snooping into the minds
behind the companies, and by next week the initial investment would
double. All he'd have to do was pay taxes, and try real hard not to
look too omniscient.
He was pleased again, the plans he had would make him very
comfortable, but not look as if he were just snapping up other
people's property.
This could work. He didn't want to get caught like Harry. He didn't
know what Harry's ultimate fate was, but he'd avoid finding out first
hand.
====
Janet came by Saturday. Ben was probably at work. When Bob answered
the door, Janet stood there, simply smiling radiantly at him.
"Hi." she said.
"Oh hello."
"Mind if I come in?"
He waved her in. It was early afternoon, Betty would be home soon, and
Randi shortly after. They'd gone shopping, and he'd arranged for Fran
to come by with her maid uniform that night. He was going to have all
three decked out as servants tonight. And play, of course.
"What can I do for you."
She slid her entire body against him, reaching up with her chin,
planting a lusty open mouthed smooch on his lips. Instinctively his
arms encircled the woman. He pulled her closer, if possible, and delved
his tongue past hers.
The woman began to writhe against him. He reached down her back to the
waist band of her skirt and slid his hands inside the skirt, then the
panties. Her fleshy bottom was smooth and warm to his touch. A touch
she seemed to welcome. Well, she was making a gift of herself to him,
he wasn't going to let her completely run the show.
"I see," He pulled his head back, but he slid his finger up her ass.
The immediate result was a yelp of surprise. He was also rewarded with
a slight sigh of joy.
"If you want to start there, then by all means, feel free." she
mumbled into his chest, going limp. He could sense her choose to
submit to his passions.
"I like using this part of you like a harness." he explained,
turning her around to force her to the bedroom. "You'll find I'll put
up with a lot, but I'm the one in charge. We do what I want, when I
want."
"I, uh, won't argue," she purred with the delight of someone getting
their own way, by subterfuge. She obediently turned with his hand and
finger.
He fucked her butt with his finger all the way to the bedroom. She was
sweating from the strain of trying to keep the stimulus hot the way
she wanted. He simply grinned from her slight discomfort over his
controlling the situation.
To her shock, in the bedroom he simply ripped the panties off. Janet
wasn't quite sure whether he did it for shock value, or for
expediency. She didn't say anything, allowing him to control her
movement as he wished.
Bob had her stand at the foot of the bed, pushed her shoulders down
against the mattress, and made her stick her ass in the air.
He flipped the skirt she wore up onto her back, leaving a lovely
bottom exposed to his view. Her heels helped raise her derriere to
allow splendid exposure, although her balance was a touch off in this
position. Her lower cunt lips were clearly visible, and the dark
little pucker of her anus was showing well.
He dropped his pants and rubbed his semi-hard penis against her butt.
He slowly went to the bathroom to get the KY. She remained poised as
he'd left her when he came back. Warming the KY in his hands, he rubbed
it on his now stiff member.
She'd obviously done this before, she reached back and pulled her
cheeks apart, trying to get an opening of her sphincter for him. His
cock in hand he pressed in the first inch.
She barked out a complaint against the intrusion, but confessed it
always hurt her during the initial entry. "Don't stop now, you'll fit
just fine."
He worked the hole open a little further with his fingers. She
suppressed pain and sought the pleasure as her anus became interested
in the invader. Then as he got another inch in, she moaned with the
sensation, actively pressing her ass at his prick.
He was in all the way. He could feel the bones of her hips against his
hips. She was skinnier than he'd thought if those bones poked. Her
clothing still on, the high heels helped raise her butt up against him.
"Oh god!, I want you so bad!" she exclaimed. She tried to rock into
him from the awkward position.
He started to work his cock in and out of the tight passage. She tried
to match rhythm with him, moaning at his stimulation of her asshole.
"Uhhh, arrrrr, more, harder, oh, please, oh," she muttered pleading.
Bob reached for her chest and began to play with her tits through her
clothing. "YES!!!" She responded well to this manipulation as well.
Within a few minutes she had a first, low intensity orgasm. The sounds
were slightly muffled as she pressed her face into the bed.
He pounded away, allowing his flood to spill into her ass. She groaned
through a second, more staggering orgasm a moment later. He pulled
out, shoving her completely onto the bed forcefully.
"oh god that was good." she mumbled into the blankets. She clutch them
in her fists.
Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Bob went to the bathroom again. This time
to wash the remnants of the KY off. When he came back, Janet had an
idiotic grin on her face, a look of surprised happiness.
"Let's fuck." she said, trying to evoke vulgar humor and lust.
"Not tonight dear, I've a headache" he joked. She frowned.
"Surely you jest!" she announced. And pounced on him, planting a kiss
firmly on his mouth. "We can cure that!" She strove to drive her
tongue all the way to his throat.
"I have plans for tonight already." he pulled away a little.
"You do? I'll match your plans against mine. I'm gonna eat you right
up."
"Not likely. It will have to wait. My girlfriends will take care of me
tonight." He worked a hand past her blouse, reaching her breast.
"Girlfriends? More than one?"
"Yes, Betty and Randi are now living with me, and I've got another
woman joining us as well." He began to rub the nipple.
Janet took this in, looking thoughtful for a few minutes.
"How about if I call Ben? He can help out."
"Unlike Ben, I'm somewhat possessive about my sex partners."
"Okay, how about if I stay and help them out with you?"
"Not tonight Janet. Some other time perhaps. But this afternoon we can
do it at least once more." he conceded.
"Yess!" enthusiastically, as if cheering for a successful athletic
event.
He gently lay her back down on the bed and spread her legs. His, once
again erect, penis entered the front door this time. Her box was wet
still, and as he pushed in, "aaaaaahh!" rewarded his entrance.
He reached forward, raising her blouse above her lovely chest, and
began to rub her nipples and the flesh surrounding. The nipples
snapped to attention quickly and he began to pinch and pull them
lightly.
Bob reached out, manipulating her nervous system to create a high
intensity sexual heat. He brought the tingling sensation up from her
clit, throughout her groin, and only stopped when he realized she
was going to come, far to quickly for him.
"Oh my god!" whispered desperately from her lips. "oh yes, oh yes."
She lashed from side to side, with only her blouse lifted to ruffle
her clothing. The two shapely legs wrapped around his rib cage in a
tight clutch. Her bucking only increased as he plunged his prick to
his balls inside. Her feet prodded his thighs gently with the heels
of her shoes. Her hands clutched with abandon at the cheeks of his
ass.
He built up the tension of lust within her while plunging her cunt
again and again. He blocked her orgasm, hoping to come at the same
time. He could sense her enjoyment.
His breath was coming in quick, sharp, gasps. Hers in gulping,
frantic, hot panting.
"Goddddaammm. gnnnn. aahh aahh," she barked out with her warm, moist
breath. "oooooohhhh, fuck, fuck. FUCK!"
He let her release her orgasm as he felt the expanding thrust of come
burst from within himself. He pressed home the deposit at the rear of
her deep caverns.
She simply screamed "FUCK!" at the top of her lungs.
=======================
More in the works...
Unfortunately I lost net.access (for extremely normal, mundane
reasons, not censorship) last Friday and now have a new account
elsewhere. I didn't regain access (on the new account) until Tues, so
if you sent email between Friday and whenever, it went to the bit
bucket.
-Blackie
--
I will ignore all requests for: reposts, e-mailing parts, ftp/gif/archive
sites, and subscription requests. These stories get deleted immediately after
they are posted. For more info on the ARCHIVE postings, read the FAQ posted
bi-monthly to a.s.s.d. And don't send me chain mail- I'll notify your sysadmin.
Path: holytoy!seunet!seunet!sunic!news.funet.fi!news.eunet.fi!EU.net!howland.reston.ans.net!vixen.cso.uiuc.edu!laff
From: laff@sal.cs.uiuc.edu (Joshua A Laff)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: ARCHIVE: the-book-5.Z
Message-ID: <2tuaeg$br3@vixen.cso.uiuc.edu>
Date: 18 Jun 1994 08:15:12 GMT
Reply-To: laff@sal.cs.uiuc.edu
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Organization: University of Illinois at Urbana
Lines: 1248
NNTP-Posting-Host: sal.cs.uiuc.edu
This story is another from the archives, and is not written by me.
Requests for just about anything concerning these posts will be ignored.
See the FAQ in a.s.s.d for more information. And stop sending talk
requests. Even when I'm logged in to this posting site, I usually
have the window closed, and if I don't, it's because I'm WORKING
From: an21262@anon.penet.fi (Blackie)
Date: Mon, 7 Jun 1993 18:33:12 GMT
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Story: Illiteracy Subdued (The Book pt 5)
Another entry in _The Book_ series.
some consensual, some nonconsensual,
m/f, f/f,
adolescent (mostly) male fantasy...
As occasionally mentioned, the characters in this story are entirely
fictional, and any resemblance to anyone living, dead or otherwise
rumored to exist is entirely the result of coincidence, and a wild
imagination. No one I know is the least bit like anyone I'd write
about, well almost no one. Okay, maybe a few, but it'd be hard to
prove, even in private. Come to think of it, who are these people
anyway?
_Illiteracy Subdued_
The book was in the box stored down the basement.
Bob dug it up again from amongst the books stored by the furnace. The
basement was only visited occasionally, and none of the boxes had
been disturbed since he last took it out.
His increase in sensitivity caused an interesting problem.
He was reclining, enjoying a few moments of quiet when he realized
he could sense another presence. No, it wasn't Betty, who was
displaying her assets for him, and Randi was out shopping.
The probe he searched the house and neighborhood with turned up
nothing. There was still a nagging sense, a feeling, some little
tickle at the back of his mind.
A roiling feeling stuck with him. After walking from the top of the
house to the bottom, he was drawn, almost pulled to the book. There
was a throbbing mental attraction he could not seem to ignore.
The book was its' same small size. The pages, cover to cover, filled
with the symbology Bob now understood almost perfectly, possibly
better than the original author. It remained as he remembered it.
Climbing the stairs, Bob fingered the book's folded clothe cover. A
brief few steps had him back in the living room. There, book in hand,
he dropped into his chair and turned on a reading light.
Running his fingers along the pages as if it were braille. He was able
to spot some slight errors in the delicately written script. And still
no sign of why he had to collect it from concealment.
Holding each individual page to the light, he looked for watermarks.
Some hint of the origin, any clue to the cause of his odd discomfort
would help. None of the pages yielded any new information.
Flipping through the pages proved nothing, but then... His fingernail,
even cut short as it was, traced the seams of the clothe and paper
binding on the rear cover. A crackle of ancient dried glue popped the
edges, much to his surprise. The binding held tight for the other
seams.
He peeled back the loose seam, separating the paper as best he could.
A cardboard stiffener slid free with difficulty. Along with it
dropped a sheet of paper, and a thin red coin.
The coin, made of some bizarre plastic or gem stone, bore a face on
one side with a triangle superimposed, while on the back was a sharp
bolt of lightning. It was wafer thin, and still thick enough for
the relief work on either side. He slid the coin into his pocket.
The paper contained more symbols. New ones, he couldn't immediately
place. He finally set the sheet aside, resolving that like the other
symbols, these too would become clear to him with time.
The coin continued to draw his attention. Once again, he pulled it out
and stared at it. For a time he seemed to duel pulling urges from the
coin, and realized he was watching symbols within the coin itself.
The idea the coin produced symbols like a person stunned him. Slowly
he built a shield over the coin, like the one he used to hide his own
mind. He was able to draw power from the device itself to run the
shield. The draw he'd felt was gone.
He wrapped the coin in paper, placed it within an envelope and locked
it away in the documents fire safe he owned. The mysteries of the book
and mind control drew his curiosity, but he wanted to control the
time he devoted to each element of this art.
Peace at last settled over Bob. He devoted some time to Betty.
====
None of Bob's women were around. He had carefully avoided interfering
with the professional lives of his bevy of women. Their income was
adding to the household wealth, and allowed him to send them out to
buy new sexy outfits from time to time.
Besides, transferring their property to his name might attract the
wrong kind of attention. They both had separate meetings tonight,
hobby interests or such keeping them away. He had intended to have
some quiet time for reading, just to practice some other
entertainment, but changed his mind.
He'd called Kim, er Bambi, and expected her at any moment. He hadn't
seen her for two weeks. That was the day she'd introduced herself and
explained her experience with the Institute.
He hadn't tracked down the other telepath, the one he'd save from the
telepath radar team the Institute operated. Sooner or later he'd find
the woman behind the mind trace. Meanwhile he intended to explore the
threat a little more.
Lightning flashed, and after silently counting to five, he heard the
collision of thunder. A deep crash, bringing about a strong feeling
of peace in Bob. He allowed the drumming sound of the pummelling rain
to drone through his ears, a lure to sleep if he'd ever heard one.
The doorbell rang over the symphony of the storm. He stood to answer
it. His habit had become to sense the visitor on the other side, and
there was one person, Kim.
He could tell it was her, her poorly shielded mind leaked light
streams of thought, probing her surroundings.
Opening the door, he was immediately rewarded with a view of the
tall, slender, overly busty woman. She was dressed more stylishly
this time, not in the business outfit she had on last time. Her skirt
was a side button down affair, and ended at her knees. Her boots rose
up her calf half way to her knees. The red rain jacket she wore
concealed a lot, but failed to disguise the size of her wondrous
chest. And her hair had grown back in a little more, seeming somewhat
like a thick monk's cut, than any particular salon style. Her head
was framed nicely before a large umbrella she carried.
Bob motioned her in.
As she passed him, she slipped her expression into a lecherous grin.
"Sluts out for the night?" she said peering around.
She seemed to know he was a little embarrassed to have someone know
about the use he put his toys to. It seemed a little odd, considering
she used men the way he was using the telepathically mute women. Of
course, her case might be a direct result of programming she'd
received at the hands of her original telepathic master. Yet, he still
turned somewhat pink at her implied disapproval.
"They have duties."
She sat in one of the lounge chairs he had in the living room. He
went to the kitchen, filled a couple mugs with caf, and returned. She
was courteous as she accepted it, her 'thank you' polite after her
catty remark at the door.
He took a chair opposite her, admiring the round curves she couldn't
help display, having removed the concealing coat. The blouse she wore
only strained the view, no buttons visible at its limits, allowing
the tiny hint of flesh. He could however, make out the barest outline
of bra.
"You know, the strain of hiding wouldn't be so bad if you didn't
emit so much noise."
She retrieved calm, after a brief look of fear. "So you've gotten
much more control than I have."
"Why did you seek me out in the first place," he inquired.
"So you could help me hide better."
"I don't believe you. You thought I was inexperienced. Unable to
protect myself. Surprise, you were wrong, fess up."
"I figured to get control of you, and use you as a shield if they
found me again."
"And when that didn't work?"
"I figured something would break for me." She lashed out a testing
probe again, trying to grip on something in his mind. It resembled a
boa constrictor trying to get a good grip on a basketball. His phony
personality, displayed above shielding he'd developed to protect him
from the onslaught of normals, completely mystified her. "How the
fuck do you do that?" she asked.
"It seemed likely to me the Institute guys wouldn't be looking for a
normal set of thought processes, so I simulate them."
"I tried copying your pretend self, I haven't managed."
"How do you keep out the voices, all the other minds?" he asked.
She just stared at him, as though he were nuts.
"What other minds?"
"All the noise the people not like us make."
"I don't hear any such noise."
"Oh."
Disturbed, and curious, he wondered if she was naturally immune
to the problem. He stared at the wall for a time. She was reluctant to
break into his musing. She broke the silence first though.
"Listen, I need a good fuck," she said. "I tried to capture one of
the night watchmen the other night, but there's no safe hideaway in the
store I hide in."
Stunned at the straight forward request, he found himself grinning.
====
They adjourned to the bedroom. Shedding only their shoes, they lay
across the bed together. He felt kind of like a teenager. He hadn't
done pretty much straight sexual exploration since the night with
Mary. And that was a power trip for him. He liked having the control
over her a little bit of bribery had gained.
This was completely out of his control. He almost couldn't remember
what it was like to bed someone without using his talent at least
a little.
He started by trying to caress her hair. It was still too short for
him to actually grasp a handful. He rubbed her bumpy scalp, feeling
for the base of the hair follicals. The silky touch of her hair was
sweet. She left her eyes wide open, watching his face to gauge his
behavior. She couldn't read his mind, as she could most men.
Being in bed with her was a sensual experience at arms length. He
began forefinger touches in completely different places. He touched
her elbow, he touched her shoulder, he gently reached out at her
belly button, but just hovered the finger above her taut tummy.
She joined in. Her palms traced the air, about a quarter inch from
his skin or clothes. She kissed into space, no more than a breath
away from his lips. He watched her pink tongue lick above his arm,
the humidity of her breath raising goose pimples along his skin.
The magic of shadow dancing was upon them. For almost an hour they
flowed around each other's body parts. He could see the nipples of
her breasts pop to erection as his hand passed above without making
physical contact. She could see his cock straining for freedom, each
time she waved her hand close to his crotch.
Eventually, as it always does with the shadow dance, the stress of
keeping the gap between one body and another leads to loss of
control. The invisible barrier gave way to feather light touches.
His hand accidentally brushed the underside of her chin. She moaned
lightly, excited contact had occurred. Her finger slipped and traced
a short 3-4 inch line along his shoulder blade. His tongue licked the
backside of her earlobe.
Finally, they had pulled together, enraptured by the undaunted effort
to build up to their lust. Her mouth no longer avoiding the touch of
his lips, they dueled with their tongues. He could feel the smooth
lushness of her hard white teeth. She could suck in the flesh of his
upper lip.
His hands wandered to the expansive chest she virtually thrust at
him. They were very soft, not as firm as he had grown accustomed to.
He felt the nipples hardening again as he touched them this time.
Those nipples were large enough to require his palm to cover them
completely. Her moaning to his touch was low and guttural.
Her hand, by now, was rubbing his cock through the fabric of his
jeans. Every now and then she would strive to squeeze the tip. His
lust rose with each grasping hold she gained. The heat in the room
was beginning to drive them from their clothes.
Bob realized the blouse she wore unbuttoned in the back. He began to
take the buttons apart from the respective button holes. Imagination
took over, he found it odd that in order to thread her, he had to
unthread her clothing.
She wriggled in his arms as he worked the blouse off her. The
brassiere she wore barely covered her tits, so it took very little
effort to get them free of their bindings. Once free, they were like
a sea of warm soft flesh. He sank between them, sliding from one to
the other nipple, trying to suck them sharply to erection.
She let out a few light moans, nothing dramatic. Her nipples
responded somewhat to his lighter suction, so he began to attack them
vigorously, with more force, more violence. She began moaning more
sincerely.
Her short hair had no bounce to it as her head bobbed from side to
side. Her ears showed, flushed red from exertion.
He eased back and sat up. She paused in her reactions, sweat had built
a thin glossy cover over her skin. She began yanking the buttons
through his shirt holes. Her hands would clench and grip at either
side of the button slit and pull. Most of the buttons remained on the
shirt when she finished, oddly enough.
Raking short, but sharp nails across his chest, she gave him goose
bumps. She begin sucking and nibbling at his nipples. They hardened
mildly as the pink red tongue made rough work of them.
She traced spirals on his chest and stomach with her tongue, and as
she did, her enormous mammaries rolled against him. The pillow
softness undulated with motion every time she shifted. The palm sized
nipples fading in and out of erection as he tried to snatch at them,
causing momentary surges of stimulation.
He slipped his hands around the large boobs, trying to actually grasp
without snatching love handle fistfulls of flesh. But she responded
more to the clenched pinches than the teasing caresses.
Finally he traced down her side, feeling the ribs bumping against his
fingers. His hand reached the buttons on the side of her skirt, and
slipped them from their moorings. It came loose, to be pushed aside by
her feet after, leaving a fine display; her girlish little bottom.
He immediately peeled away her panties, leaving her naked at his side.
A black curly covering of fine hair was framed between her legs. It
seemed damp, but he could be mistaken. Handling her crack proved he
was right. She jumped a bit, being touched, but settled in promptly to
having the little knob of flesh at the top of her slit rubbed.
By now she was prying him free from his pants. As the pants and
underwear pulled away, his dick popped to attention, and then they
both were naked. He embraced her full length, intertwining his legs
and hers. The pillowy 'bazooms', as Harry had described them, rolling
with waves every time either Bob or Kim moved.
They returned to necking, his cock sliding between her legs, but not
in her cunt. His hands forcefully rubbed her back, exploring the
cheeks of her ass at times. Her hands combing through his hair,
pulling his neck closer, reaching down to cup his balls at times.
Sounds came from the door, he quickly sensed it was Randi. He knew
she'd heard the sounds, but simply watched excitedly from the door.
He rolled Kim to her back, lifting her legs at the knees up.
Spreading them apart, he began to enter her certainly wet opening.
She was loose, he felt. There was plenty of room in her cunt for his
cock and more. But it squeezed down on him, just the same.
Kim began to shudder. An orgasm came to her in clenching little fits.
She moaned a bit and he pumped at her cunt in a workman like way. He
was enjoying the sensualistic activities, but no real deep heat had
come yet.
Suddenly she lurched out a mind probe at him. Shot like a blast, she
was trying to seize control of his body! Her control commands demanded
more brutal and mindless treatment. She wanted him to hit her
breasts. She was building a lust filled control directed at him, and
he wasn't sure he really could stop it.
The shadow mind he created to hide behind was torn to shreds. Then she
invaded through his mind shield in several places.
His struggle against her control built to a lurch, reacting to a
punch of mind power. He pressed back at her but only held her at bay.
Then he slowly began to work his own controls around the edges of her
battering thought tendrils. He slipped into her mind, hooking little
control centers here, then there. Soon he was able to turn off her
attack on him and control her mind completely.
Pissed, he began to look about inside her. She couldn't pull that
crap on Bob. Now he would use her as she meant to use him.
From inside her head he could feel the welling flesh of her breasts.
They demanded sensation. The sensation they wanted, well, there was a
brutal demand for hard forceful pain, as a pleasure sense within her.
He used his newly learned personal controls. Sending electric jolts
of sensual sex arousal along those channels of her nervous system, a
real heat began to build within the bitch. He could now control her
in deep detail, and he would. He was angry, she tried to make him a
toy of hers!
He realized the entire struggle occurred in the space of one thrust
into her wet chamber. He now found himself taking her in more heated
plunges. The power he used enflaming his desire.
She received a series of commanding lust sensations. He added to the
physical sensations she received by violently clamping his teeth into
one of her nipples. He could tell it would leave a mark. Her moan was
deep and equally brutal in its intensity.
Her crotch received waves of signals from him to bring white heat
through her lower abdomen. He paid special attention to controlling
the charge coming up from the clitoris. This swollen red nerve bundle
was giving off a range of hot flashing charges, she was ready to
scream.
He could sense her muscles twittering within her cunt. He commanded
them to clamp down on his cock. Suddenly he felt his cock gripped by
her velvet glove. It tightened enough to almost prevent him from
making the in/out strokes. Her entire body moved along with him as he
pulled and pushed his groin.
The panting and moaning sounds she was making were enough to make the
bed vibrate. His own animalistic grunting grew until he surged with
the lava hot semen which pumped out his prick. A second and third
surge of the liquid pumped into her fist tight cunt.
She had been screaming! He didn't really notice while he was getting
off. His ears rang with a primal scream she hadn't stopped since he
had taken her body from her. He kept her in the orgasm, hard and
furious, as long as he could maintain the output of energy.
He had no idea how long. When he let her stop, she immediately dropped
into unconsciousness.
He pulled out and sat up at the edge of the bed. Randi was sitting
propped against the wall. Her pants off, she was drenched in sweat
too. She seemed to have recovered already from her orgasm. She was
fingering herself lightly, trying to arouse herself again.
"God, that was remarkable."
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"I think she went into a screaming orgasm for almost twenty minutes."
"It can't have been that long."
"I know, but I came early when she started. I've already got my wind
back."
"Okay. Maybe it was long, but no twenty minutes."
"Who is she? She's got the biggest tits I've ever seen. They look real
too."
"Real? Of course they're real."
"No. I mean, she hasn't had, like you know, silicone implants or
something."
"Oh. Well, I guess not. This," and he slapped Kim's thighs like she
was a hunting prize, "is Bambi. Anyway, that will be her name around
here. I guess she'll have to move in now. I can't just let her wander
around loose."
"Master, may I?" Randi asked with anticipation. Her desire was growing
for the new conquest he'd brought home.
"Right now?, no. But since she's conked out, you might as well cop a
feel."
Randi walked over and began to feel Kim, now Bambi again, at her
breasts, and at her now soaked snatch. Randi let out slight guttural
groans at the contact with the formerly free telepath. Her hands ran
over the breasts she'd been admiring.
After watching Randi's face glow from the desire she obviously couldn't
conceal, he stood and dressed. Taking the awake woman by the hand he
led her from the room.
====
He sat in the living room. The duel for control, brief though it was,
had left him with some new fears.
She had been less than candid about her escape from the Institute.
Well, she thought she'd told the truth, but now he new different.
He had replaced controls someone else had planted. Not the clumsy
heavy handed touch of Harry, but some unknown master. Someone who had
concealed her memory of being released, but couldn't erase it.
And there was no way of knowing how much she'd reported about him...
He sat and contemplated his options while Randi knelt before him, the
head of his prick popping back and forth through her lips. He would
use her for a while, then try to work more from Bambi's mind.
====
Bambi remembered nothing of their struggle when she awoke. Bob had
seen to that. But he had her settled in by night and the other two
women didn't really mind.
Randi was biding her time to get at Bambi, Betty devoted herself to
reorganizing the household to accommodate the new comer. Betty was
rapidly becoming the household administrator.
====
Bob's growing harem bothered him a little. He started to think about
whether he should cut the numbers back, to avoid problems.
Janet had been dropping in from time to time too.
Although he hadn't let her join in the other games, he'd had her every
way he could imagine otherwise. They were all entertaining.
The day after Bambi's conversion, he'd gone to visit Mary. Patty had
become a delightful playmate, providing the milk supplement to coffee
during his visit. She seemed to like her new role as lover.
He believed his talent unraveled some of the fantasies the women he
collected had. His control and ownership fulfilled his fantasies, but
the more recent women were adjusted to permit their own secret
desires to be fulfilled.
It had astounded him to discover Bambi deeply wanted the physical
abuse, even before Harry had 'changed' her. He was able to trace the
clumsy efforts of the, possibly dead, prior master easily. The newer
controls from the mystery master were far more delicate, he still
hadn't the patience to sift through the seamless construction of
control he'd uncovered. He had however superseded it with his own.
Fear of this other unknown master ran high, since he really couldn't
find a real memory of how she had escaped the Institute. His
nightmares were pretty severe lately.
He also realized the risk of being caught by the Institute called for
extreme caution on his part.
====
Tuesday afternoon he went out to find someone new, a different
pretty face. He had decided to throw caution to the wind for the day.
The fear and tension were beginning to wear him down, and he needed
some kind of fun.
Everything was under control, so to speak, for now. Now he was
walking through the crowded mall, eavesdropping on the thoughts of
total strangers.
Some were concentrating on finding bargains for the items they needed.
The teenage boys were fun, they were deep in fantasies about the
women in skimpy clothing or the teenage girls wandering the mall. It
boosted his horniness, and he intended to satisfy this desire soon.
He wanted to play first. He looked about for an interesting woman to
use. Particularly one who was strong enough to enjoy the experience
he would give her. He was seeking a girl with a suppressed desire to
be owned, to experience embarrassing sexual adventure.
He had liked controlling the women that were deeply suppressing their
need for domination. It became extremely fun to watch as they
resisted destiny, a destiny they longed for underneath.
He walked the length of the mall twice, without finding a suitable toy
to use. He was disappointed and about to leave when his luck changed.
An attractive college student was walking into the bookstore. She was
dressed in a mini-skirt, a white summer blouse, and black high heals.
Her blond hair was in a braid to her waist, a thin flat waist. Her
face had sharp but attractive features. Almost as if the sculptor had
failed to smooth out all the edges. Her lips were thin and
expressive, colored red but not heavily. Her figure was a shapely
36-24?26?-34, not large busted, but well curved. He guessed from the
smoothness of her face and absence of wrinkles at her eyes that she
could not be any older than 20. Okay, maybe about 21.
He followed her into the book store. She was the one for today,
certainly fitting the profile. He sensed a deep rooted desire within
her meeting his desires today.
Finding her in amongst the books on gardening, he made an initial
move.
"Hello, I'm Bob."
She looked him over as though he was a mugger. He smiled in a friendly
manner. She appraised him and dismissed him in her mind as small fish
in the pond.
"What do you want?"
"Well, your name for starters."
"Tough shit spud, beat it before I call the manager." she snapped.
"Now is that any way to talk to me?" He twisted her thoughts a little
and inserted an instruction to fulfill one of his voyueristic plans.
"Why don't you, just because of that little snippet of hostility, how
about you take off your bra, right now?"
"What kind of little pervert are you?" she replied, forgetting the
threat to call the manager. Her tone took on a strong level of
hostility. She began to rattle of a series of personal insults.
But while she spoke she put down her purse and began to remove her
blouse. Her pale white skin was relatively unblemished, and he admired
the small but lush tits as she exposed them to him while removing the
bra. Her large round nipples swelled immediately in the cool air,
coming to sharp little points with pencil width tips.
She put the blouse back on, speaking all the while about his lack of
tact, politeness and anything else she could throw in. He smiled,
his own protrusion raising the clothe of his pants. "So you might as
well drop dead," she ended.
Finally, she draped the bra over her arm and went back to looking at
the books on the shelf.
"Thank you, that was very erotic," he said. She turned to stare at him
as though he hadn't heard a word of her diatribe. He pointed to the
bra on her arm.
She leapt in surprise. Turning pink with deep embarrassment, she
clenched her shoulders in, and her hand flew up between her breasts to
check that this was, in fact, her bra. She gasped.
"When did I do that?" mystified at her own loss of the memory.
"While you were running down my family history. Very educational
explanation of my origins by the way. Imagine my surprise, hearing
all the family ties to snakes. Shall we go have lunch?"
"No way little man." She turned to stomp away, only to find herself
standing before him again. "How do you do this crap?!?"
"You will finish up here. We will then walk down to the steak place at
the end of the mall, arm in arm." She shook her head, and turned to
the cash register with her selections. Bob merely stepped into the
hallway to wait.
A moment later she slipped her arm in his and they began to walk down
the hall. Her bra still hanging across her arm, it was obvious to
everyone her breasts were not encumbered by the additional
undergarment. She pinked up in embarrassment as teenaged boys turned
to stare at her protruding nipples shape, outlined in the fabric of
her blouse. Yet she did nothing to put the bra in a less obvious
location.
"You can't make me do this! You can't!" as they wandered past gaggles
of even younger girls staring at them. "I don't seem able to stop
myself, but that's impossible!"
Bob knew her predicament was startling her. She could no more stop him
now than walk on the moon. He just walked into the restaurant with her
on his arm, still bemoaning her lack of control.
"Table for two, back in the corner," he directed the hostess. She sat
them in a booth, concealed somewhat, but not completely from the rest
of the restaurant.
"Now then," he said, "Let's try introductions again. I'm Bob. And you
are?"
"Emily, Emily Sandhill" his victim replied.
"That's better, see how easy it is when you cooperate?" she nodded
fearfully. She didn't speak another word, however.
"So we're going to have lunch, well maybe a bit more than lunch" He
looked the menu over.
"Why don't you just let me go?, I won't tell anybody, I promise. Just
leave me alone." she suddenly began pleading.
"Oh you won't tell anyone. You'll find that you can't. Tell you what,
you try telling the waiter what you think I'm doing."
She began to think. What would she tell anyone. He hadn't touched her.
She had taken her bra off, apparently at his request in the book store.
She accompanied him to the restaurant, arm in arm, at his request, no
physical force at all. She was sitting with him, not screaming for
help. Who would believe her? She tried to get up, but found instead
she picked up her menu.
The waiter came to take their order. He was a college age young
fellow with heavy eyebrows and a pleasant demeanor. When he left, Bob
had placed steak orders for both of them.
"I don't eat meat!"
"You will today," he answered, "why don't you go to the ladies room
and take your panties off for me?"
"Or what, you'll make me?"
"You want to find out?"
"No! I'll do it." She got up and wandered to the restroom.
When she came back to the table, she held her panties tucked in her
arms, trying to conceal them. She went to put them in her shopping
bags, but Bob reached out a hand. Reluctantly she dropped them into
his hand. He placed them conspicuously on the table where the waiter
wouldn't miss seeing them. She blanched.
"What are you doing?"
"Believe it or not, you like being treated like this."
"I don't need your bloody abuse! Why don't you just go away, and
leave me alone."
"Maybe you'd feel better with your blouse open..."
"No! This is all embarrassing as all hell now! I don't want to be
annoyed by you or any other twerp." She looked down, noticing her
exposed breasts, blouse pulled to either side. This aroused some
twinge of unharnessed desire within her, she began to twitch in her
seat.
The waiter came back, bearing a bread basket and their drinks.
Emily flinched, flushed totally red throughout her face. The waiter
appeared not to notice her predicament. To her surprise, her nipples
became sharply erect and her vagina was getting wet. She was starting
to wet her skirt.
Bob shot her a pleased look, while she looked down at her lap. He knew
he hadn't done anything directly to stimulate her arousal.
"So, you seem to like this kind of game."
"I cannot believe you are getting such a thrill from this, may I
please button up again?"
"Yes, but don't get too used to the idea. Why don't you pull your
skirt up, and finger yourself."
"In public?! Here?!"
"Do you want to do it, or shall I help you again?"
She sighed. She reached her hand under the skirt, slipping her fingers
over the exposed labia. Feeling certain Bob could somehow make her do
this anyway, she began to caress the folds of her bushy groin. She
kept her eyes wide open, watching Bob sit calmly over the table. Her
breath began to become short as her clitoris rose from its recess.
She gently rubbed the little knob, gasping. A small drop of sweat
rolled down her forehead, and dribbled down her nose. "oh god." she
whispered. "oooooooohhhh, aahhh." Her head wrenched to the side, but
she forced it back to watch Bob who was, in turn, watching her
closely.
Her moans forced her tongue to show between her tasty lips, gracing
the corners of her mouth with licks from the tip as her body developed
its desire into motion. Her hips ground the wooden booth seat.
She grunted, humped, and moaned. At least she suppressed the more
violent sounds she tended to make during orgasm. She panted for a few
moments afterwards, trying not to slide down in the seat.
"There, feel better now?"
Amazingly, one of her better orgasms. She couldn't do much but relax
at this point. She felt obliged to admit it to Bob, although she
couldn't say why.
"God yes." she whispered so quietly he had to strain to hear her.
"Good. We'll see what else we can do for you later."
The waiter had returned, was standing there while she had finished up
her orgasm. He was holding their meals on a tray, and started to lay
the plates before them.
"If I may be bold," the waiter said, "your performance was superb."
She sat stunned by the man's pronouncement, as he walked away as
though nothing really unique had happened.
When she turned back towards Bob, he was eating his steak. She looked
with dismay at her own. She'd been a practicing vegetarian for some
time. She secretly had been yearning for meat lately, but her will
power insisted she must stick with the regime.
"Eat it," said Bob, "I know you've been avoiding meat for a while, but
you like steak, and you may find a certain sensuous pleasure in it."
"I can't."
"You can, but I won't force you."
She picked up her knife and fork, cutting off a small piece of the
still red meat. She placed it on her tongue, sucking the blood, the
red juices from the morsel she had selected.
He was right! The taste was fantastic. Her tongue and teeth explored
the exquisite tender bitefull, eventually allowing the battered scrap
of food to wander deliciously down her throat. The next small cut of
the beef, she treated to loving licks with her lips and tongue before
sucking it into her mouth, wondrously discovering the flavor as
though for the first time.
By the time she finished the meat on her plate, she was once again
horny, and even Bob seemed, well, almost acceptable to her lusts.
The waiter came back to the table to clean up, asking if there was any
more they desired from the menu before they left. Bob paid by credit
card, although she believed he would not have to, if he didn't want
to.
"Excuse me, why me!?"
"Because you wanted to be used, and I wanted someone to use. I can see
these things in people."
"I don't think I'm into being humiliated this way."
"You are. I just let you find out."
"I'm confused, but I'm also ridiculously horny. Did you do that to
me?"
"Noooo, but I could feel it rising while you ate your steak. I haven't
done anything to you since making you open your blouse. Lovely tits by
the way." They stepped out into the mall again.
"What are you going to do about my horniness?" she inquired softly. He
looked at her with astonishment. She was leaning onto his shoulder
with a look of snuggled warmth spreading through her face.
"I honestly hadn't given it much thought." He led her away from the
restaurant. The rubbing motion of her legs against each other was
bringing up the heat in her groin.
They ended up in the hall with the security office. No one in there
noticed as they walked in.
She followed him into the captain's office, a man in a black and blue
uniform looked up at them. He stood and walked out. Bob swept the
papers and other items from the desk to the floor with a crash.
"This will do just fine." he said, "no one will interrupt us."
"There are open windows to the outer office." she complained. Bob
looked out, a secretary and a rent-a-cop were chattering with each
other.
"You'll appreciate that better once you get your clothing off." he
replied.
She nervously began undressing. By the time she got the blouse, skirt
and shoes laid aside, she was trembling from an excitement rising from
humiliation. She knew now, what Bob had said was true. She wanted to
be treated this way.
Bob dropped his trousers. His six to seven inch pecker was already at
attention.
"Lay down on the desk."
She sat, then lay across the desk so she wouldn't be forced to watch the
outer office staff looking at her. Bob refused to let her get away
with it and positioned her so she had to watch the outer office much
of the time.
By now the secretary was standing at the window, pointing at her and
the rent-a-cop was apparently making some joke at her expense. She
speculated what it was, something about doorknobs? everyone gets a
turn? How would she face herself in the mirror tonight? She trembled
with excitement as Bob began to suck her pussy.
He licked the lips of her slit first. "ooohh" came free from her
throat. As he worked up the opening to the top, she felt his hot moist
breath against the wetness she'd developed. Then he began to lick and
nibble at her clit.
"Oh yesss, please do that more!" she exclaimed. Now completely unable
to take her eyes off the two people in the outer office.
Bob was holding them there. He knew how brutally embarrassing this was
to Emily. He could feel the heat of her lust moving down from her
head, rather than up from her groin. She was now bucking against his
face. She couldn't stop herself. All while being watched by strangers.
Her head rolled side to side. Her braid whipped about over the end of
the desk. She panted with the excitement of the sex she was enjoying,
in a frighteningly public way. She began to pinch her own nipples, and
tried to pull one up to her lips to suck it. She couldn't quite, but
she tried anyway.
Then Bob entered her. She pulsed with an orgasm. She was so far gone
from him eating her out, she couldn't hold back when he entered.
"GGGGGGGGGGGGOD!!" this time she couldn't keep the noise level down,
this time she knew the woman in the outer office couldn't help but
hear. And she was watching too, so had seen the entire thing. Bob
using her, almost beyond her imagination.
Bob fucked her and made her hips pump for him. He reached out and
fondled the pale breasts waving before him. She was reasonably tight
to his prick and he liked the sensation her twat clutching was making
him feel. The pressure built and eventually he released his sperm, a
flood of semen into her cunt.
"oh yeah." he muttered. After standing with his cock in her cunt
afterwards for some time, he pulled out and began to dress.
"Should I dress too?"
"You want to walk out of here like that?"
"Uh, no, no, not really." she was amazed how much it thrilled her to
be watched while fucking. "um, what about them?" she pointed to the
outer office.
"Come on." he simply said.
As they walked out, the secretary offered a comment.
"You filthy slut. Can't you find some place else to peddle your ass?
How much did you charge him, eh?"
Emily's ears burned red, embarrassed and humiliated even more by this
catty remark. Her groin twitched again.
"Don't worry," Bob said, "They'll forget about this before we've
gotten down the hall."
At the crowed mall hallway, Bob turned to leave, but Emily grabbed his
shoulder.
"Was I really like this all along? or did you do something to me like
you made those people forget they saw us?"
"You already had the desire, just hidden deeply away."
"Will I see you again?," she pouted, mixed in her emotions.
"Maybe, just maybe." he stole her address from her mind.
Bob let himself be swallowed by the crowd. He had enjoyed the little
interlude.
====
He drove past a car with no one in it.
No, that wasn't right. He looked in his rear view mirror. A man was
steering the car just as normal as day. Bob probed the car with the
talent.
No one was there, well maybe there was a void like blob he couldn't
read. Like the men at the Institute radar site.
Oh my, he thought, this guy is one of them. Is he after me? What do I
do?
Then the other car turned away, down a different street.
Bob sighed relief. Some day soon he'd have to do something about
those creeps.
They scared him more each time he came across their presence.
====
He'd had more trouble with Betty and Randi fighting, well, not
fighting. Perhaps it was just, well, struggling.
Yesterday Betty complained about Randi trying to run the house. She
knew she was allowed to boss Randi around a bit. But she and Randi
were often at odds.
Bob didn't really know what kept the two of them at each other's
throat, but he guessed Betty really wanted to be acknowledged as the
queen of his women.
She was paranoid. She thought the others were going to hurt her some
night. She had no idea this was ridiculous since he controlled them
all. And she kept trying to push everyone else around unless Bob
stepped in with his command over her hidden persona.
Yesterday he got pissed about Betty's paranoia around Randi. He
adjusted her a touch, to actually like Randi. He added a little more
to put Randi in charge when he wasn't around. That ought to
straighten her out.
He had been working in the study. At the back of his mind he picked
up Betty and Randi talking in the bedroom. He got up and walked
towards the bedroom. He slipped to the door to watch.
"You were seeing him for almost 6 months before you let him make
love to you?" Randi's voice came.
"Yeah, he was, just fine, but I didn't want to have sex until I got
married." Randi was helping Betty brush her hair. From time to time
she stroked Betty's back too. "But he convinced me I was wrong. I was
also wrong to want him to myself. That was selfish, I think, I'm not
sure really."
"Maybe you just needed better encouragement." This odd sensation was
what he'd picked up, Randi was radiating desire. Betty, without the
unreasoned fear she'd had up until yesterday, was responding a little
to the sensual contact by Randi.
The two girls were both wearing short skirts, revealing blouses only
just showing their nipples through since neither had bras on.
Stockings were part of the uniform of the house, along with high
heels which he knew could not only get uncomfortable, but made some
chores a bit difficult.
But they liked wearing them around him, he'd made certain of that. He
liked to see the curves their legs had with the high heels on.
"What do you mean?"
"A man like Bob is unique. He's skilled in bed like I've never felt
with a man. He sometimes turns me on frantically, just by looking in
my direction. I've no idea how it happens to me. Before him, the only
satisfaction I ever got was from other girls."
Bob knew this, but didn't really want her to lose that innate quality.
He enjoyed being her only 'man'. Again he felt personal power no
other man could really have.
"Really?" By now the hair brush was laid aside. Randi worked her
hands in circles on Betty's shoulders. "I don't like the idea of
women with women. It's wrong."
"Oh?" Randi was now smiling, since she could sense the woman under her
hands was responding to the gentle passes she made along her torso.
"Yep. My mother told me," and Betty looked a little odd for a moment,
"I'm having trouble remembering some of the things mother said
lately."
Randi, worked her arms around to Betty's stomach. Her red fingernail
tipped fingers rubbing the muscles of the other girl's abdomen.
"Well, his technique is unusual, I'm certain he's responsible for
whatever when he gives me Fran from time to time. I get such
incredible satisfaction from it. I'm not fond of men. But he's not the
same, different somehow. Its good with him."
"I see," said Betty, her voice beginning to waver. Randi had worked up
to cupping her breasts, and although she believed this should not be
good, she felt light tingles of excitement circle the firm flesh.
Bob could feel Betty's anxiousness, and mild curiosity. Her head
tilted forward, the eyes fluttering from the mildly arousing massage.
Randi took the bold step of cupping up until her fingers could clasp
the nipples of Betty's breast and roll them.
"No, no Randi, don't do this. I don't want to sleep with you." she
mumbled. Her body betrayed her though, rolling along with the motion
from Randi's gentle administrations. "Oh god, that feels good."
Randi began to kiss her on the neck. Betty leaned her head to the
side, allowing Randi's lips easier access. Goose bumps showed her
excited flesh enjoyed the contact.
"No. I, I can't, I won't."
Randi's fingernails dug into her nipples, lightly, giving her a sharp
jolt of pleasant pain. "Ohhhhh," moaned her voice.
Greedily, enjoying the conquest of the often argumentative woman,
Randi pulled at her breasts, pinching nipples between her thumbs and
forefingers, intermixed with grasping handfuls of the flesh.
Bob reached out to feel what Betty was experiencing. He could feel the
tongue snake into her ear. The heat flowing down towards his groin
from her breasts was prickling his own desires. Her eyes wouldn't stay
open, so he got kaleidoscopic blur of images in the room. His
breathing accelerated to match her pumping lungs.
Randi, holding Betty's left tit's nipple with one hand, reached down
and pulled up Betty's skirt with the other. Here she benefited from
Bob's decision the women were to be available to receive his
attentions at any time.
So Betty was completely available to Randi as well.
Randi slid one of those carefully manicured fingers down the folds of
Betty's cunt. Her middle finger, chosen for the intrusion, found a
moist entryway waiting. Her finger probed within, and Bob felt the
invasion as certainly as Betty.
"God, no, don't do this," she moaned, helpless before the grasp Randi
had on her, "let me go, you, you, bitch!"
Randi was unrelenting, her fingers began working the nub of Betty's
clitoris. Betty was bucking, humping at the finger within her.
"You like this, slut. I may be Bob's whore, but you're just a teasing
little slut and you need to be used."
Bob reached out into Randi's mind, becoming a parasitic observer
within her body. The emotions were intense. He could sense her glee at
conquering the cunt under her fingers. Her own sense of power over
Betty fed his lust of power over both women. He could feel her body
writhing with pleasure although Betty hadn't touched her.
"Oh god, this is wrong! unnng," Betty's lips formed the words,
contradicting her body. "What will Bob think of me? I, I, please
stop!"
"You silly little slut," answered the dominant woman, "He'll think no
more of you than he does now. You are a slut for his personal use, a
cunt, whose purpose is to relieve his sexual pleasure. What did you
think he kept you around for?"
Betty was lurching with Randi's finger. Randi forced Betty to turn her
head towards her face with her left hand. Betty was gone into the
stage of not caring how she'd been aroused. Randi planted a wet kiss
on the other woman's mouth.
Bob could feel victory in Randi's taking of Betty, a strong flush
sensation, broadly giving Randi at least temporary ownership of
Betty's body. He could feel how tasty and sweet Betty's lips were
through his vicarious tactile touch.
Betty couldn't stop the plunging tongue violating her mouth. She
didn't really want to. The dyke Bob kept around was forcing her into a
lusty orgasm and she couldn't stop her. Any moment now Bob would catch
them and punish her for letting the bitch take her. What could she do?
She entered into the kiss with Passion, with a capital P. The softness
of Randi's mouth was a change from what she'd felt with Bob. The
woman's lips were velvet to her touch, and her own tongue found the
taste simply exciting.
Randi pushed Betty to the bed and lifting the skirt, buried her face
in the lush red tunnel before her. Her tongue entered the dripping
cunt, pushing as far in as possible.
"MMMMYYY GOD!," cried Betty. "oohh don't do that!, no, no, no!"
Betty's pelvis had assumed sine wave properties as she thrust and
ground her cunt into Randi's mouth. She denied the desire for the
attention with every word, but her body was hot, aflame with
excitement, reaching for ecstasy.
Randi slid two fingers into the gyrating woman before her. Her fingers
moved in so easily she pulled them back out and added a third. When
this proved easy as well, she drew her hand out again. Then she
pointed all the fingers together and tried to insert her entire hand.
"NO NO, That will hurt me," squealed the sweaty woman in Randi's eager
grasp. "OHHHH!"
But the all the fingers pushed in to the widest part, the area of
Randi's hand from the last knuckle of her thumb to the heal of her
palm. Betty tried to spread her thighs open even wider than they
already were, whimpering with a combination of joy and pain. With a
sudden bump, the wrist Randi pressed behind her hand slipped into the
red/pink gap.
"AAAAAHHHHHH! YEESSS!" screeched Betty, tears pouring from her eyes.
It was impossible to gauge whether from pain or pleasure from looking
at her. But Bob entered her mind and as Betty, felt wondrously full,
stretched wide, and unbelievably hot. There was also a stretching
pain, and a few poking pains where the invading protrusion was hitting
tender points. But even those pains were stimulating the sex within.
Randi clenched her hand into a fist inside Betty and started to punch
in, out, in, out. Each in motion was answered by a grunt of
surprise/lust from Betty. Each out motion with a gasp, struggling to
gulp down air. Tears continued to stream down the side of her face,
but along with the tears began to come a gasping, begging sound.
"moore, I gotta have mooorre, deeper!"
"Oh love, you look so beautiful with my arm in you."
"oh Randi!, you're giving, !!!aaaah!!!, me the best... oh yes!"
"You're so pretty when stroked."
"Oh, I coming! MORE >ung< MORE!"
Bob could feel the fullness along the open lips of Betty's hot love
canal. She was swinging her arms and head wildly in response to the
brutal invasion.
She screamed out. Coming wrenched her around bodily on the bed.
Randi eased her hand out of Betty carefully. She was surprised as all
hell the girl had taken it, first time, with so little trouble. All
her other experiences required enormous amounts of lubrication and
slow careful entry.
Betty was curled up in a ball on the bed, recovering from her intense
and unexpected experience.
Randi saw Bob at the door.
He grinned, nodded in approval, and left.
====
Distantly, at the Institute, two men stood before a large oak desk.
The entrance to the room, a large double door, was shut, the curtains
drawn.
They stood apart, not associating with each other in any way but their
presence. One, a burly man, wore a turtle-neck sweater, and casual
slacks. The other wore a business suit.
"You lost her." came a voice from a chair behind the desk. It was
deep, undoubtably male. The room was dark, and the face concealed by
the deeper shadows.
"I implanted programming to make her contact us every other week. She
only missed one so far..." answered the man in the business suit.
"I don't care! Anything we can program in, can be programmed out. You
blew it. You lost her. She is gone. An observer should have watched
her all the time."
"It would've made other sparks suspicious," a pause, "Sir."
"Find her!" a fist accented by striking the desk.
"Yes Sir!" turn and depart started.
"Oh, and Tyler," the departing man looked back, "If you don't find
her..."
A moment passed. Heavy in the air were other frightening options.
"I understand sir." the man named Tyler left.
"Jones."
"Sir?"
"He'll fail. I know a failure when I see one. Make all the preliminary
arrangements with Jezabel. Then get another team on it. I want to know
when to pull him."
"Yes sir." and the second man left.
A pair of feet, clad in expensive Italian leather, took up residence
on the edge of the desk. They twitched with impatience.
====
Maybe I'll get more done eventually.
-Blackie
--
I will ignore all requests for: reposts, e-mailing parts, ftp/gif/archive
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From: laff@sal.cs.uiuc.edu (Joshua A Laff)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: ARCHIVE: the-book-6.Z
Message-ID: <2tuaeh$br4@vixen.cso.uiuc.edu>
Date: 18 Jun 1994 08:15:13 GMT
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Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Organization: University of Illinois at Urbana
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This story is another from the archives, and is not written by me.
Requests for just about anything concerning these posts will be ignored.
See the FAQ in a.s.s.d for more information. And stop sending talk
requests. Even when I'm logged in to this posting site, I usually
have the window closed, and if I don't, it's because I'm WORKING
From: an21262@anon.penet.fi (Blackie)
Date: Thu, 10 Jun 1993 17:59:05 GMT
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Story: Chapter & Worse (The Book, pt 6)
More of _The Book_, a (sometimes) mind control/reading adolescent fantasy.
m/f, f/f
Some scenes are non-consensual, some are consensual.
However, the first half of this episode explores a fully consensual
interaction.
All characters are purely fictional and never had a real life
counterpart, a strictly fictional counterpart, or any corpse I ever
heard of that they resemble. This is not to say there aren't people
like them, just that coincidence is as remarkable in this piece of
fiction as it is in law enforcement. (figure that reference out)
_Chapter & Worse_
The airport was crowded. He'd chosen to fly at rush hour, with all
the business travelers.
This trip was the first he'd made in some time. His investments were
beginning to pay off well. The money wasn't exactly piling up, but he
was doing well enough.
This trip would take him to New York. He planned to find some one to
handle his investments closer to the markets. No big deal, and he'd be
back tomorrow.
He walked through the security scanner on the way to the gate and
almost froze in his tracks. By sheer force of will he kept moving.
A probe had slid over his camouflage persona, the construct he
displayed above his thought shield. The Institute? Maybe. If he
stalled now, they'd figure it out for sure.
He walked on to his plane, taking his seat, in coach, along with all
the other passengers.
====
The 'hunters' sniffed a scent on the wind.
"William" said the man with the carrot red hair.
"What is it?"
"Lookee here. The system made a little hiccup. If the guy going by
was one of the sensitives it should wail, instead I got this funny
flutter."
William looked at readings charted on the sheet of paper. Nothing
was out of the ordinary except a sudden twitch on an emissions gauge.
He looked at the power monitor, lifted the automatic logging sheet.
"Here's the problem, Red, power hit must've gotten by the filters."
"Hmmm, probably right."
"Happens, ya know."
They went back to reading newspapers.
Bob's picture remained imposed in black and white on the roll of
paper with all the scan data. As the paper rolled along for other
scan jobs, it folded neatly into a box by the machinery.
====
Bob's relief was immense as the aircraft settled into the clouds.
Certainly they wouldn't let the plane leave if they knew he was
one of their 'sparks'.
He did a quick snoop on the other passengers.
The cabin was filled with tired, somewhat restless travelers. They
either wanted to get home, or to their hotels at their destinations.
None of them seemed too anxious about the flight.
Bob settled in himself. Napping cut the trip time for him.
====
Arrival. Next time he'd spring for a limo.
He shared a cramped cab from Laguardia with 3 other people.
Not fun, he decided. Well, not entirely fun. There was a very
attractive, lithe little blonde going to mid-town with him.
The blonde was willing to talk to him. Her name was Andy, she told
him. They arranged to meet at a restaurant she called 'Possible 20'
somewhere in the area of his hotel for a late dinner. He used skill
of conversation in the cab, not the talent for control.
He checked into the hotel, depositing his clothing in the room by
hanging the garment bag in the closet. He planned to meet Andy at
8:00 but it was almost that now.
Fortunately, the taxi driver knew exactly where the restaurant was.
He walked in only ten minutes late.
He didn't see her in the front room, but in the rear section of the
place she waved and smiled from a table under a picture of Groucho
Marx. The decor's theme was theater and movies. There were men and
women in suits as well as jeans, an interesting mix.
He smiled and walked over to join her, sitting under Groucho's cigar.
"Hello again."
"You may as well sit. I ordered coffee for both of us."
As he sat, he opened the menu before him. The fare was as mixed as the
fashion sense of the customers. He was pleased at the choices.
"Sorry I'm late, concierge slowed me down in the lobby of the
hotel. I've only been to New York once before, had a little
trouble getting everything straightened away."
"Its okay. The restaurant would be empty anyway. Curtain time has the
crowds under control at the moment. No one will be here until after
the last act."
"Huh?"
"Theater district is just a little downtown. The theater crowds will
be busy at the moment. This place draws some of the theater goers."
"Oh. I see. The theaters have that much effect on the crowds?"
"In the evening, yes. Going to be in the City long?"
"Just tonight and tomorrow this trip."
"Oh dear. Well we wouldn't want you to leave thinking badly of The
City." The way she said 'The City', he knew she meant it to be all
caps. He'd met hard core New Yorkers before, but she was a living
example of New York City as center of universe thinking.
He ordered skins, potato skins, the meal on the plane had somehow
irritated his stomach. She had some kind of sandwich, he didn't pay
attention to what.
She'd changed from the outfit she wore in the cab. She now wore a
dark sports jacket with elbow patches over a fluffy white blouse,
slim jeans, and flats. Her hair was a bouncy shoulder length, almost
golden blonde. Her face had high cheeks, a perpetual smile and
almost laughing eyes. He admired her thin tender looking ears as well.
They lost themselves in discussions of international politics for a
time. Was the economic future of the country dependent on finding an
accommodation with Japan, were the Germans really getting their house
in order, more trivia of interest. She proved better read on many
topics than he, often bringing in some little piece of information or
another he'd overlooked lately.
"What do you do?" she finally asked.
"I manage my investments."
"Oh? you a broker?"
"No, just found a way to stop working for other people and manage a
portfolio instead. Got lucky I guess. What about you?"
"Oh, I do a little of this, a little of that. I've been working
through temp agencies for some time. Right now I'm running a real
small business's accounting department."
"Good deal, I guess, if you can find something like that. How come you
were at the airport then?"
"Went to visit my sister in KayCee."
It took a minute, but he realized she meant Kansas City.
He paid for dinner. Anyone working through temp agencies, he figured,
wouldn't mind dinner on him. He was right, she seemed grateful he had
picked up the tab.
They walked down Broadway. She led him through Times Square, past the
hordes of beggars, street vendors, and musicians with hats or tins out.
At one point, the break dancers had taken over the entire sidewalk.
They walked around through street traffic. There seemed to be a flow
of people through the busy, yet sporadic flow of cars and busses.
They strolled south for some time. Andy called the direction
downtown. She pointed out some of the better known buildings. They
slipped over to the library, she tried but failed to remember the
names of the Lions.
He laughed at this and told her their names. He stole into her
thoughts to pull the information out. For all he knew, she wasn't
right either, but she thought he was.
She pointed out a building south of the Library. It had a gold
colored top. The lights shone brightly, accenting the gold top. She
informed him solemnly this was the American Standards building. She
laughed because he remained mystified.
"It's the company that make toilets, silly. Think of all the
crappers it took to build the thing." She continued to laugh. He
smiled.
"Sir Thomas would be proud."
"Sir who?" she said.
"Sir Thomas, Sir Thomas Crapper, the inventor of the flush toilet as
we know it. Was knighted for his effort."
"Really?"
"Really."
Her laughter was contagious.
=====
They had gotten back to his hotel. It was about 11:30. He was amazed
a city could be so busy, even late at night.
Andy was going to say good-bye at the door to the hotel, but he
talked her into seeing him to his room. Sensing what he could say
helped. She had been holding his hand now for some time, quite
content with his company.
At the door, he kissed her. She seemed to like it. A second, somewhat
sloppier kiss followed. Her tongue joined in the act.
"Isn't this just a little fast?" she ducked her head down so he
couldn't continue. He felt uncertainty within her, an interest in
going on, but reluctantly.
"Depends."
"On what?"
"Whether we both want to or not." With his left hand he lifted her
chin, with his right he opened the door. She followed his kiss into
the hotel room.
"I, uh, don't think this is such a good idea."
Bob pulled her to him, and plunged his tongue into her mouth. She
tasted delicious. Her eyes closed in rapture each time his lips
locked against hers. She relished each kiss as though it was the
first she'd ever had.
His hands held her arms at the shoulders, holding her tightly to him.
He used the grip to turn her enough to allow him to suck gently at
her neck.
He could sense a decision inside her being reached, whether to stay;
spending the night, or go; in hopes he'd come see her again. He let
her work on the thought while he worked on the soft skin of her neck.
"I'll stay," she whispered, "but I don't know if I'll regret this in
the morning."
"I hadn't asked you."
"You would have," she started to nibble at his neck and chin.
He kicked off his shoes. She dropped the sports jacket and stepped
out of her flats. Taking her hand he led her to the bed. She looked
at it briefly, shuddered a moment. Determined, she sat at the edge
and raised her arms to entice him to her.
He entered her arms, and pulled her to him as he rolled to a prone
position. She grinned above him, diving the six inches to his face to
kiss him then pulling back. She teased him this way for a few minutes.
He reached a hand behind her neck and held her to a passionate kiss,
tongues in collision. Her eyes remained enticingly closed during every
meeting of their lips. Her hand drifted to his hardening prick.
"Oh my, did I do that?"
"As if you didn't already know."
"Can I have it for my very own?"
"We can let you test drive it..."
She began unwrapping the prize she sought. First his belt, then the
button on his trousers, and the zipper made a resounding 'ZZZippp!' as
she pulled it down. They both giggled.
As she pulled the elastic of his underwear over the stiff member, it
popped to immediate attention. With a victorious smile, she
performed a mock salute to the little soldier.
"Remain at attention!" she said.
He laughed at her playful attack. She plunged her mouth over the tip,
soaking him between her warm wet lips. Her hair shook lightly at the
motions she made.
He watched the twinkle in her eyes grow as she licked and nibbled the
length of his cock, between her attempts to bring the head into her
throat. The tingle he was beginning to feel improved as she grasped
the base of his prick with one of her soft warm hands. She squeezed it
and pumped whenever her head wasn't seeking to engulf its length.
He couldn't help thrusting into her face, every time she sucked him
in. The pink tongue sometimes showed around the edges of his cock as
she sucked. He struggled to avoid pulling her head to force himself
deeper into the orifice he was fucking.
She watched his face as she sucked. Her activity became more
enthusiastic as she saw him more frenzied. The pressure rose in his
groin. He felt fluids starting to travel.
"I'm coming Andy. I'm coming."
"MMPPPH!" She plunged his cock deeply into her mouth, driving him past
her rear teeth, and at last, into her throat. He felt her rear teeth
rubbing sharply against the body of his penis.
She kept this deep throat action going while his groin muscles
mechanically pumped a volume of come into her. She held him in her
throat as long as she could hold her breath, lips and tongue rubbing
against the root and balls. She enjoyed his facial expression during
release.
Then she sat back. He rolled on his side in contentment.
"Good." she said.
"Good what?"
"Now when I get you hard again, you'll last longer."
He laughed again. She'd entered into the fun, having made her
decision.
"You needn't have worried. That's the one muscle I have with endurance
to spare."
It was her turn to laugh. She peeled away her blouse, leaving her
breasts bound in their double barrel slingshot. Then she dropped her
jeans, revealing a lacy pair of panties. She left these on and began
unbuttoning Bob's shirt. After pulling his pants off, she made him
shed the remains of his shirt.
"I'm gonna leave these on just to give you some continued interest,"
she waved at the underwear she wore. Her tits seemed to fill the bra
quite nicely, and a hint of the dark patch of pubic hair was visible
around the edges of her panties.
Her body slipped up against Bob's naked skin. She felt smooth and silky
as she rubbed her legs against his. He began to caress her arms and
shoulders as they once again began to neck. He carefully traced lines
across her back, following paths her nervous system reacted to well.
She let out a sigh, enjoying the way he anticipated points on her
back she wanted touched. Enjoying her response, he began to tease
along her pleasantly round hips the same way.
"oooo, that's nice!" He liked the way her lips shaped the sounds.
He sensed itching and tingling under the bra straps she wore. So he
reached around and hooked the eyelets free. The back now loose, her
flesh in the front still cupped in the bra, he moved the straps to
the sides. Then he scratched her back along the places they had been
binding her.
She tucked her head down against his chest and purred. She was making
a low rumbling and rolling 'rrr' noise until she slipped her lips
forward and began to suck at his nipple. Then the sound came from her
throat.
Not allowing her to resume control, he reached his hand down between
her panties and bottom. It was soft to the touch, and he kneaded the
cheeks gently. This also brought a sigh of joy from Andy. She was
writhing slowly against his leg, and he pushed her ass to force her
groin to grind harder. He could feel the beginnings of rolling in her
abdomen muscles from excitement.
Her breath stepped up in speed. No, not yet gasping, but more
rhythmic, more lusty, more heat. She wasn't showing signs of real
exertion yet, no sweat, no hurrying.
He pushed her back and pulled the bra away from her chest. He
admired the flesh exposed by her further nudity. The breasts
themselves were much paler than the rest of her, almost an alabaster
white. At the apex were tiny red/brown nipples, but oddly inverted.
There were little puckers where the knobby tips should be. He'd never
seen nipples inverted before!
He sucked at one, the nipple popped out, remaining out while erect.
They both became hard quickly, slowly softening when he paid more
attention to the other. She didn't enjoy more brutal treatment of her
nipples, he could tell before she said so, but her response to really
hard sucking was enormous. So he sucked her into his mouth and
tickled the stiff ends with his tongue tip.
She rewarded him by groaning and moaning, her hands and arms wrapping
themselves around his head as he suckled her tits. She clutched him to
her tightly as he attacked them, her head craning backwards as she
moaned out her happiness. His nose and eyes pushed into the pale
skin.
Eventually she pushed him back.
"Please, I want you now. I want to feel you inside me."
He helped her remove the panties, tossing them to the side. She lifted
her legs, but he pulled her up to a sitting position.
"Get on top."
She squatted on her heels above his cock, guiding it into her. He could
feel her moisture as her cunt slid down over his pole. Impaled, she
knelt open mouthed above him. Her nipples remained pointed out, sharp
and beautiful.
He began to sit up.
"What the...?"
"Bring your legs around behind me, sit on my lap."
She struggled to unbend her kneeling knees, letting him sit at the
edge of the bed, her body wrapped around his, with his cock violating
her deepest recesses.
"OOOOooooohhh," a moan escaped, not released, but forcefully freed.
He lifted, then dropped her in his lap. She held onto him, weaving her
fingers together behind his neck. He had a good view of his own
manhood thrusting into her as she gasped and moaned with pleasure.
His hands were locked under her buttocks, helping keep entry and
withdrawal motions going. She was moving well on her own now, so he
disengaged his hands. His right hand sought out the meeting of their
flesh at her hot wet cunt lips from the back.
He felt his prick sliding in and out as she moved above. Her head
was starting to whip back and forth, gaining intensity with every
plunging entry his cock made.
Tracing back up with his fingers, he felt her asshole. It was making
puckering and unpuckering motions along with the rest of her.
She was working up to another plateau of pleasure. He could sense a
thrill within her as he tickled the ring of her anus.
Suddenly he invaded her anal orifice with his finger, driving it in to
the second knuckle.
"YESSSS!" she screamed out immediately. "YESS! YESS! YES!"
She was bucking madly, thrusting back, not only at his prick, but
against the intruding finger up her ass as well. She was sweating now
profusely. An orgasm which clutched at his prick surged from her. He
fucked her ass thoroughly with his finger as she came.
"FUCK, FUCK ME!" came the cry as the tension in her muscles tightened
with cramp proportions. Then she came down a little. He kept at her,
tilting his head down at an angle to suck a nipple, he continued to
fuck her cunt, and her ass.
"NOT AGAIN! YES!" came a gleeful, and perhaps triumphant howl.
She swung her head wildly and let go another screaming orgasm. He felt
a surge of liquid fire rise within, so he let loose his second orgasm
for the night. The come flooded out the tip of his cock, he could
almost see the seed enter her. Some dripped around the opening of the
girl at the point their bodies were joined.
She slowly went limp in his arms. Obviously glowing with a joy of
someone just fucked, she smiled radiantly at him.
They sat for a while, with him inside her. She was overwhelmed with
afterglow, for now.
====
"I've never seen inverted nipples before," he was playing with the
tips of her breasts. They looked like tiny belly buttons, only a red
brown color. She smiled at him as he got one to pop up erect.
"They've been there all my life."
"It must be unusual."
"I suppose, but not to me."
"Yup."
"You hit a real hot spot fingering my, um, bottom."
He looked at her, surprised.
"You've never had anyone, er, fondle your ass before?"
"My ass, yes, my asshole, no."
"You don't know what you're missing."
"I think you may be right, although."
"Although?"
"If you'd suggested it before our little dalliance, I would never've
gone to bed with you."
"Well, if I can get it up again," looking down at the semi-stiff
prick, "we can try a little back door delight. You want to try?"
"Oh, but it might hurt."
"Nonsense, I brought some baby oil. We'll just get your tail oiled up
and you'll find it less difficult than you think."
"Um," she tossled his hair, and nibbled at his ear. She spent a few
minutes thinking it over, "okay, you can take my ass. I'm game."
"Ha! not yet I don't, recuperation takes more than ten minutes."
"You want my virginity, you better rise to the occasion!"
"Oh, give me a break. I already came twice!"
She giggled, and sat up. A moment latter her lips were actively
attempting to resuscitate his flagging pecker. At his present level of
arousal, she easily fit his entire cock and balls in her mouth. She
worked her lips over the glans, around the edges, tongued the under
seam. He became stiff, one more time.
"Now don't do too much, you don't want me to come before I enter you."
She giggled and tried to smile at him while sucking with her mouth
and pumping with her hand. A few minutes later his rod had achieved
suitable stiffness.
"Get your shoulders on the mattress, and stick your butt in the air."
She started to do so in the middle of the bed. He got the baby oil.
Opening it, he rubbed some on his prick.
"No, no. Get down here, the edge, yeah that's it, knees on the edge of
the bed." She moved again.
He took a handful of oil and rubbed it over her ass.
"Oh! That's cold!"
"Sorry, it'll warm up."
His hands on either cheek, he pried open her anus with his thumbs one
at a time, working the oil into her nether hole. Then he moved his
cock's head against the opening.
"OH!"
In it went, about an inch and a half. He paused, letting her adjust to
the plundering penis in her. Her eyes showed wide open shock at the
entry.
"I feel like I gotta go."
"It'll pass as I get in deeper."
"God, I feel so fucking full already." Her face was turned back
towards him over her left shoulder, pressed into the mattress. Tears
were forming in her eyes.
"Okay, I'll go in a little farther." so saying pushed another inch in.
"Ow! Oh! OH!"
"Want me to stop?"
"No! I mean, I think I'm gonna like this." She reached back to pull
her chalky white cheeks farther apart for him.
He pressed forward a little more, her sphincter looser now as she
relaxed and tried feeling the pleasant sensations. He resolved to let
her work it out, rather than adjust her senses to accept it.
"Ahhh!" and she dropped into a continuous low moan.
Now he pressed all the way, so his balls teased her cunt and his tummy
rested against her spread cheeks. He waited a moment for the muscles
of her ass to adjust to his presence.
He began the motion to plunder this treasure. Out slowly, in slowly,
then faster, building a rhythm.
"Oh god, yes, that's so fucking good." her eyes shuttered from
arousal. A pink tongue slipped out of her mouth to apply pressure to
her lips.
He reached around and began to play with her clit. The oiled fingers
made the contact smoother and seemed to allow movement with less
irritation to her skin.
"YESS!" she hissed. Her own rhythm began to meld with his. If
anything, she was trying to slam her ass against him now. He felt the
grip of her ass muscles as she began to pulse with the heat.
The hand that wasn't busy, his left, he reached for her left tit.
Finding the nipple he began rolling it between his thumb and
forefinger. In moments he had the tip out from it's hiding place.
She moaned, raising her shoulders and tucking her head down
underneath.
He felt her reach orgasm. His own release came soon afterwards,
pouring semen into the darkness of her ass. She was screaming, he
was lunging, they both collapse, with his cock still up her ass.
"God, that was..." she trailed
"Yes?"
"Different," she looked at him lustily, perhaps divining emotions to
go along with her physical pleasure. "yes, it was different. I'd
never have done that without, well, I guess you turn me on a lot."
"Well, I need a shower, wanna play?" He pulled out, with an audible
pop.
She pouted.
"I liked that in there."
"You can have it again, if you behave nicely." he whacked her bottom
playfully and headed to the bathroom, "but I need some sleep tonight."
They showered together. She had fun soaping his crotch, he had fun
soaping hers. Her nipples popped up again under the spraying water.
They slept.
====
In the morning, he took her again. He took her ass, if for no other
reason, she like it. He asked why. She said part of it was the
helplessness she felt with him pinning her on her face.
He laughed at this explanation, but he entered her rear plumbing
again, to her delight. If he could get it up again, he was certain
she'd demand another opportunity to enjoy the new experience.
When she left, she insisted on getting a phone number from him.
Instead he got hers, and told her he would pay the fare for her to
visit him soon. Within a few weeks.
Then he left to pursue business opportunities.
And done with business, he picked up a package at a little store in
mid-town.
====
The plane was airborne. His trip successful at the 5th broker he'd
visited. He was pleased.
He called Andy to say good-bye, he'd promised to, after all. But she
was out, and her answering machine picked up. He left a cute, but
romantic enough message, saying he wanted her again, er, to see her
again.
Then he'd flagged down a hack. The cab ride was bumpy and brutal. But
he made it in time for his flight.
There was another probing of his mind at Laguardia, but he was
prepared. He obviously didn't trigger any alarms, but was very
nervous when his keys set off the metal detector.
The flight was nearly empty. Four other passengers, and as many
stewardesses. The airline couldn't be happy about it.
His frolic with Andy left him horny.
Part of the problem he had was related to his talent. He'd only
needed to use it to read her mind. She had reacted well, mostly
because he knew exactly what she'd wanted. But he found arousal in
using the talent as well.
The captain turned off the seat belt sign.
After glancing briefly at a magazine from the pocket before him, he
got up to wander to the head. When he came out, a stewardess was
working in the storage pantry at the back of the plane.
Taking a quick look up the aisle, he saw they were pretty well
isolated.
She looked up at him and smiled. It was a typical "You're the
customer" smile, intended to be professional but not terribly
friendly.
She was well built. Her legs showed attractively below a short skirt,
part of the uniform. Her vest covered only part of a starched white
button down blouse, and a badge pinned to the vest proclaimed her to
be Robin. Robin had blue eyes, in contrast to her brunette hair,
held back on the sides with a barrette. Her shape suggested some
sweet curves, and her backside was tight, at least as far as he could
tell.
"Hello Robin."
"Can I help you sir?"
"As a matter of fact, yesss..." He slipped a feather light tendril into
her mind. She would now believe she was home with her boyfriend. Bob,
of course, would fill that roll.
"Hello darling." she reached her arms around his neck and planting a
loving kiss. He moved his hand up to her breast and began feeling
through the material.
"Oh sweetheart, not now. I just finished work."
Well. She had interesting evasions for her boyfriend when she got
home. He did what he'd avoided with Andy. He used the talent to
created arousal signals in her groin and tits.
"Well, maybe we could," she continued while caressing his crotch,
"I'll get the chains out. Do you want to be chained to the bed or
the floor?"
Whoops! This wasn't going to work for Bob! He did a search through
her mind, finding an old friendship she concealed from her 'pet'
boyfriend.
Now she saw him as some guy named George. George was the man she'd
grovel before, if he wanted. Apparently it never actually came to that.
But thinking she was with George got her juices really running.
She immediately changed her own persona, draping herself against him,
reaching her hands up to run them through his hair. Her voice dropped
half an octave, and she spoke.
"Hi lover. Missed you. Where have you been?" Bob had to look again to
be certain the voice came from the same woman. He pulled her face to
his, driving his tongue between her lips. He'd swear she had almost
done a traditional swoon, dropping her own muscle control to let him
hold her up.
He led her aside to the little pantry nook and began necking with her.
While his lips pulled at her cherry tongue, he reached out his probes
to ensure none of the other passengers or attendants would bother
them.
She licked and chewed at his neck. He lifted her skirt and pulled her
panties to her knees. His hand felt the wetness she'd developed after
seeing George standing beside her. He almost felt sorry for George,
missing this fine moment with her.
"Okay lover, turn around and bend down."
"Anything you say George."
She turned and jutted her tush up. Bob reached around her, separated
her blouse in the front, and was rewarded to find a quick release
front snap for her bra. Her ample bosom was released and he felt
the large hanging boobs, seeking the nipples with his thumb and
forefingers. She let loose a low grunting moan.
After a few moments he undid his pants, allowing them to drop to his
knees. His stiff wang wagged between them and he guided it, from
behind, into the soaking wet tunnel she'd proffered.
He began to ram in and out of her and she made appropriate gasping
sounds, pleasing him. After a few minutes though he pulled out again.
"Don't stop now, lover," she said. He grinned thinking of his early
morning exercise with Andy. He enjoyed her enthusiastic sexual antics
a lot. He spread Robin's cheeks and pressed the tip of his prick
against the rosette.
"NO!, oh please lover, anything, anything at all but that!" she
squealed in her original voice.
"Just hold still, you'll like it," to ensure this, Bob eased her
muscles with mild controls, and increased the pleasure symbols her
nervous system was carrying already. He pressed in an inch. She was so
tight, he feared he might not make it in.
"OH! OH! NO! MY GOD! DON'T!" she continued, but her butt wiggled a
little from stimulation, rather than pain. "YOU CAN'T FIT THERE!"
He pressed in farther. He also raised the still mild stimulus to hot
lust in her rectum. She pressed back against him hard. With a quick
thrust she was completely impaled. Her head shook, tears running down
her face. She also moaned excitedly.
He thought of Andy, while pumping into Robin. He reached around and
began to pinch her nipples. She snapped her head up, letting out a
sharp squeal of joy. Her head shook wildly in abandon.
She shoved down harder against his cock, but he started to come. The
burst of semen planted by his prick into her ass dribbled out a
little. He pulled out, while her asshole almost seemed to suck the
last drops from him. His cock was starting to go limp all ready.
Using towels near at hand, he cleaned up some. She continued to
squirm, just shy of having come.
"Follow me." he said, pulling his pants up.
She followed him to his seat, empty seats to either side. He moved
over by the window and instructed her to sit beside. Opening his pants
again, he had her start to blow him.
He had another stewardess bring him something to drink. This one,
named Janet apparently, looked nothing like the Janet he knew.
Her hair was long and black, her lips full and deep red. She wore the
same uniform Robin had on, showing slightly bow legs, but attractively
curved anyway. She stopped and stared at Robin sucking his cock.
She had much smaller knockers. He had her show them to him. The
knobby little nipples were already excited. At his command she began
to pinch and play with them.
He knew he could make her forget all this. Instead, he had her
masturbate for him in the aisle. While she did this, he came all
over Robin's face.
He gave his little cocksucker a remote control orgasm, forcing her to
come immediately. He watched as she flopped to and fro in her
release. She smiled gleefully afterwards, obviously thinking of
George.
Then he released Robin to her job errands, causing her to remember
meeting with George, but forgetting just when.
Janet replaced Robin at his crotch.
For fun at the end of the flight he made all of the stewardesses
come, one by one, as he touched their lips with his forefinger. They
all lined up for him as he left. It was a rousing display, not one
of them able to remain standing. He had all the other passengers
applaud.
It had been a very pleasant flight.
Not surprisingly, he was the only passenger who remembered the flight.
The crew only remembered what he wanted them to, a normal boring
flight.
The little demonstration of deep control titilated and aroused him.
He realized he'd become addicted to the sexual utility of the skill
he'd suddenly developed.
He realized further how childish and reckless the little act on the
plane was. He started to worry if he was losing control of himself.
A possibility which frightened him.
====
Bambi nee Kim sat on a bus. There were always interesting people to
read on a bus.
She had been fascinated by the other women in Bob's house, amazed she
was one of them and didn't resent it. She was uncertain how she'd come
around to view him as the center of her universe, but well, there you
are.
She retained most of her memories, but Harry had faded away into
oblivion. She hardly thought of him any more. When she did it was a
little like trying to remember a nightmare from last week. If it
wasn't recurring, it lost its potentcy.
She'd lost a lot of strong opinions too, along with the memory of
Harry. She no longer believed she had to be dressed in tight
concealing clothing in public. Harry seemed to like the embarrassment
it caused to make her wear sexy things outside the house. Overcoming
her fear of publicly wearing less conservative clothing had been hard
when she went to visit Bob.
She probed women far more often now. She'd learned a lot of new
things about dressing and make up. More importantly, she'd learned,
maybe relearned, she could earn a living herself. She'd gotten a
boost out of going back to work.
It hadn't lasted long, because Bob showed her she didn't need to work.
She had a talent now allowing her to make money in supposedly
speculative markets. A little research here, a little there, and in
almost no time, she had real estate she could resell at a substantial
profit!
Now and then she had an urge to take some guy. Just take him, make
him, and afterwards let him go with improvements.
Occasionally a sense of desire for punishment would seep up. But
then a little inner voice would calm her, telling her Harry was dead,
and not all men should be like Harry was.
She didn't really understand where this voice inside came from, but
she felt better afterwards. She knew Bob would take care of her needs.
Today she'd read the thoughts of two old ladies. They'd just played
Bridge and were thinking about making a 'Grand Slam'. Later she'd
snooped on a teenage boy who was watching her. She was tempted to
fulfill his fantasy, but she really wanted Bob, not some kid.
She planted a memory in the boy of having screwed her, with details
he'd never forget. He'd be happy when he got home. Probably try to
relive the experience with some other older woman.
Now she snaked out thin tendrils to the people on the bus with her.
And stifled a gasp. A man behind her wasn't there! Well, maybe he
was, but there was no mind to examine.
The Institute was the only source of those mind shields! She had to
flee before he figured out she was one of their 'sparks'. She didn't
want to return to their labs.
At the next stop she got off. So did he. She tried wandering into a
few stores, but he was always outside when she stepped back out to the
street.
He knew. He didn't realize she knew about him. The thought made her
giddy.
So she slipped out the back of the next one.
She ran down the alley she found herself in. Finding a man driving by
in a sporty red convertible, she stopped him using the talent and got
in. She had him drive away quickly.
Within a few minutes she probed around her and no longer sensed the
deadness of mind shields. She sighed relief.
The man drove her home, her new home, and forgot all about it.
====
Bob came home without fanfare. Well, mostly anyway.
"Hello, missed ya," Betty stood up against his chest, demanding a
kiss. Like a little puppy who'd missed the family. He gave her a
small peck on her nose.
"Hi. Any calls?"
"Janet called, she says she's horny again and Ben isn't cutting the
mustard. Wants some 'special' treatment."
"Hmm, any others?"
"Yes, Fran checked in on schedule. I told her you wouldn't need her
this weekend. Is that all right?"
"Sure. You can fill in for her." Betty turned red, then looked down
at her toes tracing circles on the rug. She decided it was a good
idea anyway. Randi was starting to be fun to be with.
"As you wish. And some woman named Mary called. Said you knew her
number."
"Very good." he rewarded her with a deep, loving kiss. Then he carried
the garment bag to his room.
====
"Hello Janet."
"Bob! I've missed you."
Well that would soon change, he thought. Ben didn't deserve the
problems with Janet coming over to Bob's so often. A friend was
important enough to help out. He carefully planted a little program
of symbols to arouse her intensely when with Ben.
If all worked out, her interest in him would begin to wane. Problems
with Ben were one thing he could avoid easily.
They had a quick, and somewhat disappointing fuck. Oh, she enjoyed
it, so did he, but he knew she'd begin to see him as a great short
term lover, not the one she really wanted. Oh, they'd do it again.
But he'd made certain she'd yearn for more sensual activity
afterwards, for Ben.
Bob hit the road.
====
Bob reached out to Randi and summoned her. He summoned Bambi too.
They arrived a few minutes apart, both certain he'd be there, but
trying to bring him some little problem to discuss.
Settling Bambi into his chair, he stood with Randi and began kissing
her. Randi responded immediately, without hesitation. She'd devoted
herself to him, believing, trusting completely he would take care of
all her needs. He could sense total trust welling within her.
He petted her gently. Excited, as she always was with him now, her
breath became shorter. She even got this way when he simply used her
without giving her release. Often it led to a greater release later,
but always she got excited by his touch. Unlike any other man she had
ever met.
Bambi watched with mild interest as Bob pulled up the house skirt
Randi wore and tested her wetness with his fingers. >ungg< came from
the brunette. Moans developed from her as he twisted her nipples
gently through the blouse.
Bambi sat still as possible in his chair, trying to remain
comfortable while Bob made use of the other woman. She hadn't been
made to watch before, but if he wanted it, she would perform this
duty.
Then Bob sat Randi down on the couch. He spread her legs and pulled
her skirt away from her crotch. Establishing Bambi's view was
excellent, he licked and nibbled at the inner thighs Randi offered
him.
Bambi watched his behavior with interest.
His tongue traced the muscles and folds in her crotch. Randi sighed
and let her moans slowly fill the room. She moved with rhythmic pulses
of her torso.
Then Bob stopped.
Randi whimpered with desire, a need, a strong need to be satisfied.
Bob grinned and went to the package he'd returned from New York with.
From the bag he withdrew a twenty-four inch double headed dildo.
Randi gasped at the sight. Bambi drew in a deep breath, a little
nervous, thinking she knew what Bob had in mind.
He oiled the artificial cock and pushed one end into Randi's cunt.
It was thicker than Bob's prick, but Randi took it as he slipped it
in.
"Bambi, take off your blouse and skirt."
She complied. Naked except for a garter belt, stockings, and high
heels she stood with her magnificent boobs hanging before her. Oh,
not hanging real bad, but consider her incredible assets.
"This end is for you," Bob waved the other end of the phony prick at
her.
"What!?" she stared at the woman on the couch. And at the head of
the prick she now had to accept from that same woman. She wasn't
sure of this idea. She was unsure she could do this.
Bob led her over, and had her kneel over Randi on the couch. Randi
was salivating openly at the idea of finally being given Bambi. "Oh
god, yes!" slipped out between her puffed up red lips. Bob had come
through for Randi again.
Randi licked the air before Bambi's cunt lips while they wagged
before her face. Soon, however, Bob had settled her back, getting
Bambi to squat over the prick Randi imagined was hers.
Randi took to sucking the big boobs hanging before her now. Bambi,
aroused by physical stimulus, more than the situation perhaps, began
to feel shivers of excitement run down her spine.
Bob forced her onto the synthetic pecker. It was huge. She thought
it was splitting her open, although she knew she'd had bigger. She
felt as though the other woman was forcing a cock into her. Inching
it in, Bob finally had both women attached at the crotch the way he'd
wanted.
Randi began to hump mildly. The motion of the gigantic false prick
caused Bambi to gasp with surprise and sharp pleasure. The depth of
the intrusion was incredible and she felt it wanted to creep up and
out her throat.
Bob formed the mental image of a phallic shaped mind probe and
violated Bambi's mind at the same time. She felt his entry almost as
if he were entering her pussy. His probe slithered into her and now,
she could sense, he was her. He was fucking Randi using her body.
He'd taken complete physical control and was letting her watch and
feel from the recesses of her own mind.
Bob could feel Bambi's tits. And Randi was pinching at one
viciously as she bit, really bit, at the other. He could feel the
incredible monster cock inside her, and by clenching the muscles of
Bambi's cunt, he pushed it into Randi. She was trading the favor for
Bambi.
He plunged Bambi's tongue into Randi. Bambi felt it and savored the
total loss of control. Her pleasures were complete in this activity,
her own personal desires subborned into his. Bob owned her and she
now liked being his chattel more than anything else.
Bob though hadn't pulled out all the stops yet. Although he was
operating Bambi a little like a puppet, he still was aroused in his
own body. Stripping, he pressed Bambi forward. The rubber cock was
bent over, and Bambi was on top of Randi. Now her rectum was
exposed. He could feel the tickle in her ass as he rubbed his cock
against the little flower of her anus.
The girls paused for him while he made his entry to Bambi's second
hole. He worked it in, inch at a time. Slowly, ever so slowly, he
pushed his cock in to the hilt. He was thrilled, he really was
fucking both women at the same time.
Bambi felt full. The rubber cock bent between her and Randi. She was
surprised, but Bob's presence had left, where did he go? Then she saw
Randi's eyes pop open.
Yes, she thought. Bob is fucking both of us in every possible way. He
can violate our most inner sanctum, in every way, we are both
totally property, as totally as he can make us.
Bob looked up at his own face over Bambi's back. He pulled her lips
down to Randi's and engaged in a lip and tongue duel. Bambi tasted
very yummy to Randi.
The double headed dildo was doing its job. Both women were heavily
aroused from the friction of the false phallus. Bob added to their
fire by fanning the erotic sensations they felt. He reached for
Bambi's tits with Randi's hands. He reached for Randi's tits with
Bambi's hands. He pumped his cock up Bambi's tight, tight ass, reaming
her out.
Bambi came first. Her mind, realizing just how brutally she was being
used, not only front and back, but her entire body and mind, was
aroused far beyond her norm. She was engaged in kissing Randi when she
began to scream. Bob thought it appropriate she had 'come' in Randi's
mouth.
Randi wasn't far behind. Her body, crushed with the weight of the two
bodies above her was feeling flashes of radiant heat pull her into the
abyss of orgasm.
Bob, last of all, poured his jism into Bambi's ass. The tight ring of
muscle squeezed at him, ejecting him as he became limp.
The girls remained connected.
Bob moved back to his chair. He watched the female forms on his
couch come down now. Bambi was somewhat uncomfortable with Randi's
proximity. He'd decided everyone would eventually get it on in his
house, and she'd best get used to it.
"Don't let it out of your cunts."
The sex toys on the couch tried to find a way to get comfortable while
attached at the hips. They worked their way around and finally each
had a head on an arm of the couch. Their crotches remained together,
actually a few inches apart, and their legs were intertwined.
Bob thought for a time. The women became slightly restless but
obedient to his instructions. A contest of sexual frenzy, Bob thought.
"Okay, Let's see which of you can make the other come first."
Both women looked over at him. Randi was thanking him with her eyes.
Bambi was confused, not having expected this situation to arise. She
was enjoying herself, but felt a nagging censor at the back of her
head. Bob remembered full well she'd believed girl/girl sex was a bad
thing, but he also knew it for a 'Harry' planted idea, not really her
own view.
Randi immediately began to hump her groin against Bambi's, pressing
their mutual cocks deeper. This was poor strategy, since she also
was stimulating her own genitalia.
Bambi fondled Randi's nipples, bringing about a gasp from her, um,
competition. She pulled and pinched, using her own talent to find
the other woman's weaknesses.
To Bob's surprise, Bambi swept out a control probe to Randi, which he
swept aside in a hurry. She'd realized she could use her talent to win
this contest. Bob smiled to himself, tempted to let her do so. It
would serve the little cunt to get used by another woman, instead of
the other way around.
"No Bambi. I don't want you to play that way today," he said. "Maybe
later."
Randi worked her thumb against Bambi's clit. Bambi couldn't stop from
letting out a moan. Randi tried to pull one of Bambi's large boobs
within sucking reach. She couldn't quite from the position they were
in, but a violent yank on the nipple reached one of Bambi's weaknesses.
She thrilled in the pain shooting through her tit. She was now
bucking far more violently against the rubber dick between them.
Bambi's breath was almost a visible moist movement. Her cunt was
twitching, and Bob watched the heat rising in her.
Randi too was excited. Her lust at having Bambi had her nerve endings
enflamed. It also helped to have Bambi's hands all over her. She
panted rapidly, while seeking a further way to force Bambi to come
first.
"I, I, I can't, uh, can't..." Bambi was rubbing Randi's bump of
clitoral flesh with a thumb now, but muttering about difficulty of
contact. Randi almost going over herself, began to crush Bambi's
little clitoris bundle.
"AAAAIIIIEEEEE!" screamed Bambi, threshing against the bruising
treatment she was receiving. The lightning flash of orgasmic energy
jolted her about.
"GODDDDAMNIT YES!" followed the screech from Randi just moments
later. The two women bucked against each other's crotch while
keeping their hands in place, manipulating the sex they each held.
They eased back in slow motion, resting their sweat covered heads.
Their hair pointed in places from the dripping sweat. Flushed pink
from the exertion, neither had their eyes open.
Bob got a blanket and covered them. They remained nestled together,
still inside each other by virtue of an artificial organ. Every
now and then one of them would kiss the other's leg or foot.
Bob just went back to reading.
====
Betty was at the grocery store with Bambi.
Bob had told her to pick out a woman for him to screw tonight. Bambi
would make sure the choice came along. She was to give the choice to
him as a 'gift' to show her obedience.
Betty felt completely humiliated. The embarrassment had kept her
panties dripping since they left the house.
The worst part was knowing he'd take the woman she chose, making
Betty watch. Thinking that, she had to struggle not to finger
herself. She had been directed not to orgasm until Bob said so.
She spotted a nice looking woman, about 32 by the fruit. Betty had
already discarded four other possible choices when she saw this one.
The woman was about 5'8" and was shapely. Her eyebrows were little
arches over deep brown eyes. Her nose was long, leading down to a soft
red pair of lips. Her hair was in a short pony tail, a dark blonde.
Betty realized she didn't want this woman to make love with Bob. He
would enjoy such a choice. She suppressed her own will for his.
She pointed the woman out to Bambi.
The three of them left together.
====
The man looked at the note he'd just received.
TARGET OBSERVED DOWNTOWN. TARGET MISPLACED. ADDING MANPOWER TO
SECTOR. REQUEST HIGHER PRIORITY AREA SCANS IN SECTOR. JONES
He scrawled "OK' and his initials. After a moment he added the word
"Maximum" after the OK. He set it aside for operations.
He picked up another report on his desk. Tyler was programmed and
ready to be turned over to Jezabel. Tyler would know he was being
punished, but he could no longer do anything about it.
Among other reports on political supporters, financial problems,
manpower requirements, and security background checks, there was
data from the airport. Some problem with a scanner, a freakish
misreading or such. He set it aside, unwilling for now to decide,
how to investigate the report.
He brushed his sleeve, straightening the creases.
====
As before, this will continue... like it really could stop without
more.
-Blackie
The Three Ages of Man:
1) Tri-weekly
2) Try weekly
3) Try weakly
--
I will ignore all requests for: reposts, e-mailing parts, ftp/gif/archive
sites, and subscription requests. These stories get deleted immediately after
they are posted. For more info on the ARCHIVE postings, read the FAQ posted
bi-monthly to a.s.s.d. And don't send me chain mail- I'll notify your sysadmin.
Path: holytoy!seunet!seunet!sunic!ugle.unit.no!trane.uninett.no!eunet.no!nuug!EU.net!howland.reston.ans.net!vixen.cso.uiuc.edu!laff
From: laff@sal.cs.uiuc.edu (Joshua A Laff)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: ARCHIVE: the-book-7.Z
Message-ID: <2tuaej$br5@vixen.cso.uiuc.edu>
Date: 18 Jun 1994 08:15:15 GMT
Reply-To: laff@sal.cs.uiuc.edu
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Organization: University of Illinois at Urbana
Lines: 1090
NNTP-Posting-Host: sal.cs.uiuc.edu
This story is another from the archives, and is not written by me.
Requests for just about anything concerning these posts will be ignored.
See the FAQ in a.s.s.d for more information. And stop sending talk
requests. Even when I'm logged in to this posting site, I usually
have the window closed, and if I don't, it's because I'm WORKING
From: an21262@anon.penet.fi (Blackie)
Date: Mon, 14 Jun 1993 17:26:13 GMT
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Story: Censorship (The Book, pt 7)
More of _The Book_, a mind control story...
Be warned, this episode is heavy on plot, light on sex. Some mild
philosophy discussions, but we'll get back to the nice wet sloppy
stuff, if I remember how after being serious for a while. (more of a
threat than you know)
disclaimer of email response: delightfully, I am now informed several
mailservers are snatching up every episode and inserting them into
mailserver archive paradise. In the event you want previous episodes,
please don't ask me to email them, check the available mailservers
first. I remain delighted to hear from readers, don't think
otherwise. I just don't have time to constantly mail the entire story
out for the many requests I receive.
Joshua Laff has been courteous enough to inform me he has all the
episodes on line, at "mailserv@uiuc.edu".
Standard don't hurt anybody's feelings disclaimer: No one in this
story is real, so any resemblance to those living, dead, and undead
(fictional) is like having automatic sprinklers run by a random number
generator, it's only coincidence you got wet. Betcha liked it too.
This is getting a little long, don't you people get tired of reading
it? Why the hell not? Sigh, but I'm still having fun writing it...
Okay, like m/f fer sure dude, f/f possible. Non-consensual. Ease back
a bit, its only fiction.
Hit 'n' now to skip it.
_Censorship_
Many mind shields moved about in the neighborhood. Bob could feel the
mentally dead spots all over. At least a dozen he could sense
immediately.
Bob wasn't sure how they'd narrowed down the search to here, but the
reality was, they were here.
Guessing at what could happen, and hopeful the hunters would leave the
women alone, he'd written a note. It said he'd be gone a week or two,
they should keep the household in good order for his return. He
planted suggestions in their sleeping minds to keep them content
together waiting for him. No matter how long it took.
There were at least six hunters out back. He figured there were
another three or four on either side of the house. And out front...
A movie style CIA staff car look alike stopped in front. Two more
pulled up on either side of it. Several more of the nearly invisible
unreadable men got out of the dark boxy cars.
They gathered, one man, in a perfectly pressed suit swept his arms
right and left. They parted like the sea before Moses. The man with
an unruffled G-man look started up the walk. He flowed along in a
smooth, unbroken motion, headed straight for Bob's sanctuary.
His nightmares come to life, he was surprised there weren't any guns.
There didn't appear to be any way out. He could only guess what would
happen to him. It didn't seem likely they'd walk up and say, 'Nice
to see you're telepathic. Good going kid. Keep up the good work,'
then leave.
The doorbell rang. Well, it did a silly four note thing, more like
chimes. Only a week ago he'd thought it cute when he bought it. He
glared at the little box on the wall until it chimed again.
Well, he thought, time to brace up and face the devil. He opened the
door at a normal pace to avoid startling the unusual visitor. He was
rewarded with no overtly hostile reaction.
"Hello."
The man wore a perfectly pressed suit, a red silk tie, and black
shoes, just recently polished. His crew cut made the roundness of his
features stick out. Wrinkles, chicken tracks, around the eyes placed
him around 40-43 as near Bob could figure.
"Hi Bob. I'd like a chance to chat with you. May I come in?" The man
didn't bother to introduce himself.
"I don't see how I could stop you with all the manpower you brought."
The man chuckled, but didn't look over his shoulders for support.
Perfectly cool, he stepped into the house. Bob led him to the living
room.
"Well, this is a nice change. Your original furniture I gather." the
man said. "Very unusual, most sparks just take what they like from
mutes. Males often end up with poorly decorated domiciles. Very
strange affect, I'm not certain how to describe it. Kind of like late
american junk yard."
"I see." said Bob.
"Yup. You know we caught on to you very fast. Most sparks go two,
maybe three years before we find them. You wanna know how we found
you?," he paused, pulling a pack of cigarettes out. He went on before
Bob could form a reply, "the girl. Oh, not the harem girls you've
picked up, eh? That really is the best part of being a spark I guess,
the broads. Anyway, what was I saying? Right, the girl."
The man stabbed his thumb at his own chest.
"Our girl, the one we let loose. We lost her for a while when you got
to her, but you screwed up. You know how we found her? Give it a
guess."
Bob walked over to the window, peeking at the carefully deployed men
meandering around outside. His guest didn't mind. A cigarette lighter
came out and was ignited.
"Please don't smoke," Bob said. There was no way to stop the man, but
the fellow looked at his cigarette and put it away. "I've no idea what
you're talking about."
The man laughed.
"Forget the bullshit. You've been plowing Kim and the two other women
you got living here regular as rain. You can do this because you pull
their strings. You also plow about three other women a week. Some of
them Kim brings to you for your leisure.
"The amazing thing is you ain't been stealing stuff too. We usually
catch the sparks by looking for swiped property, but you... You've
been careful to earn the money and buy what you want.
"No, you know what I'm talking about. Kim gave you away. Not on
purpose, but almost as if she put a red siren light on top of your
head."
Bob resigned himself to being 'found'. He breathed a deep sigh, trying
to figure the angles. Nothing this guy had said mattered much yet,
sort of complementary. Sort of. Almost admiring, but hostile at the
same time.
"Okay, but why bother to talk to me about it? Why not just grab me
like you seem to do with the other, what do you call us?, Sparks?"
The man shuffled over to the window for a moment. Bob couldn't sense
it, but he guessed it was to let the men outside see he was still
well. The man took in a deep breath, and sighed, almost resigned too.
"I've been remiss. My name is Jones, Dirk Jones," the man clasped his
hands behind his back and rocked on his heels. "You, despite our
advantage in organization, are very unusual.
"You see, we've been picking up the snatch you throw back to analyze
what you do. Oddly, we can't find any sign of your meddling, unlike all
most sparks.
"Most of the other sparks tend to go mad. I'm getting ahead of myself.
Let's see.
"The men believe they've become God. They take the power they have and
start using it on the mortals around them. Women, men, it's
essentially the same MO. It's just a matter of time before we track
them down and catch them. Usually, when they find out there's someone
they have no power over, their marbles go rolling on the floor.
"Some get lonely, because they think nobody else like them exists. This
brings on a different kind of madness. It has the same net affect. You
watch them looking for their shooters on the floor.
"The women, they're a different story. Depends on what they want. A
tiny fraction grab men or women for themselves and play. Them we can
catch quickly since they tend to be like the looney men. Some of them
just use it to manipulate people they know. Easy enough to find once
you see a pattern. Some women just want things and end up discovered
by our financial detectives. Some try running around trying to do
good deeds," he laughed, "this brings us back to the god complex and
we can catch them.
"What we can't do is keep 'em. Most of them go around the bend faster
than shit through a goose. Kim's Harry for instance, managed to do
himself in. You've been different though.
"You seem pretty stable. You came up with a plan to become
economically solvent, without creating a statistical anomaly in the
crime data. Somehow you don't leave a wide programming trail on the
women you've used, a more delicate touch, if you will. You kept your
own home and carefully concealed your new wealth.
"You only forgot a couple things."
Bob sat in the lounge chair. He looked up at Jones's face. He was just
a little curious.
"Which were?"
"You let the girl, Kim, remember her? You let her go buy and sell
things, big things like property with houses, in her own name."
"Ohhhh." Bob saw the stupidity. They couldn't miss records showing any
kind of detail, she'd had to use a real address too. How could he
overlook so simple an error? "So what now, again why talk to me?"
"Don't feel too bad. The airport jingle would've put us on to you in
another couple months anyway," came a consoling tone. Jones was
sweating just a little.
"Airport jingle? What happened at the airport?"
"You took a trip. We take pictures of everyone going through
security. When you went through, our scanners acted up. We wouldn't
have actually checked on you for a few more months yet, but we always
follow through, even on the little stuff."
"Shit, so what do you want?"
"We're a big organization. There's always room for one more. But we
can't let a dangerous threat like some random spark run around loose
without some strings."
"And you propose...?"
"I'd like you to come to the Institute. See our facilities. You can
bring the harem with you, we don't care. You can even collect more if
you want, we'll even help. There any popular actresses you want? That
reminds me, where are your little marionettes?"
"The women are asleep. When I knew you guys were out there, I had them
lay down and made them sleep. I figured they might panic."
"Smart. Jesus Christ man, you make the other sparks look careless," he
appraised Bob again. "As I was saying, you come work for us, we'll
cater to your whims. All we want is a little help with our research,
and maybe help watching some people."
And probably they wanted him off the street. The watching people thing
bothered Bob.
Oh boy, thought Bob, gotta watch those enemies of the state. Hell, it
might not even be the state, it might just be the enemies of the
Institute. Well, the guy may be sincere. No way to tell with his
shield in place. I hope so, cause there's no way out of this mess for
now.
"You aren't going to let me sleep on it, are you?"
"Not exactly son, no. Would you if you were in my shoes?"
"What then?"
"Come see the facilities. You may feel a lot better about joining the
team, our team." Jones was pitching. Bob didn't like it.
"I don't have much choice."
"You do, but the other choice is more painful..."
====
Two women and a man were in a room with a large bed. The bed was huge,
designed perhaps to hold four or five people at once. Around the bed,
in the shadows, were about a dozen chairs. The chairs all faced the
bed.
The two women were asleep across the bed, but would wake in a few
minutes.
A uniformed messenger stepped into the room carrying a sheet of
paper. He walked over to the man. He tried to hand the sheet to the
man.
"Never mind, what does it say?"
"Sir. The spark is coming willingly. The women don't seem to know
anything is out of the ordinary and the household hasn't been
disrupted yet. Jones says he's leaving the women alone for now."
"Very good. Let me know after attitude modification."
"Yes sir."
The messenger left, making a sharp turn, clicking his heels as he
marched.
====
They were escorted by two other cars. The drive was pleasant but long.
Bob thought they were either waiting for him to try something, or
trying to conceal the route they took from him.
While they rode, Jones told him about the Institute.
The Institute was over sixty years old now. The original founders had
been measuring brain activity secretly on an Army grant. Some rich
philantropist donated enough money to see they kept operating when the
congress cut them off.
The Institute had grown over the years. They had their fingers in a
lot of pies. Several investments had paid off, and now they were an
entirely independent operation.
Originally they were trying to ferret out spies with the mind scanner
they developed. They'd figured out how to scan, and what to do to
block scanning. But they couldn't seem to get a good handle on
implanting changes.
Kim had been an experiment, according to Jones. He claimed she was
socially disfunctional, so they had to try something. Bob figured
there was a lot more history they weren't telling.
Bob bided his time.
====
The man watched from the dark recesses of the room. The women couldn't
possibly know he was there. He liked having some control over what
the performance would be.
If he wanted, with their current programming, he could feel them up,
and they'd never know he'd done it. His smile was a wee bit wicked at
the thought. It was difficult, probably the most expensive process
for the Institute. But he insisted it be done.
These two women had never met before. They were due to wake up soon.
The one with the fiery red hair had a nasty tempter and a mean streak.
At least around men. This was Heather.
Heather wore sweats. She almost looked ready to go jogging. Her sneakers
were the finest available. The sweats didn't reveal much. Her height
was 5'7" and he knew her to be 36-24-34 in build. Couldn't tell the
measurements from here though. Her face was pale, with the carrot red
lips some redheads end up with. Her eyelashes were turning white and
accented the angry green eyes she wielded like weapons.
He knew from her records, she had been collecting female slaves when
she'd been caught. A regular bevy of Amazons mostly, but with a few
very feminine, delicate looking women too. He found in the psych
report she couldn't go long without sex. They'd kept her a week
without it, he knew this too.
The other woman was brunette. Her lips a dark red, the eyebrows
accenting downward towards her nose, which was long and narrow to just
above her lips. Her hair curled in spirals to the shoulders which were
rounded down her arms. This one also wore sweats, but they couldn't
conceal her larger bust. The nipples showed through from the strain
against the fabric. She was 5' even, so the redhead towered over
her. She still seemed as if half her height was legs.
This one, named Jean, was picked up in a shopping spree. Amazing how
little she'd actually spent acquiring all the goodies she'd garnered.
'Born to Shop' was emblazoned on a bumper sticker of the car she'd
been driving. It was a sporty red model, no license plate. They'd
known where to look for her from the series of police reports on the
car which were canceled moments later by the officers making the
reports. It was suspicious when the 6th or 7th report came over the
radio.
Her psych report indicated she was uninterested in sex. Well, not
totally, but she'd been much more interested in collecting things from
the stores. She hadn't a boyfriend in over 2 years. And she had no
interest in women at all.
They had been let into the room and allowed to meet each other. The
observer was curious what would happen. There hadn't yet been any
experiments with two telepaths likely to be confrontational. This was
something he wanted to see. He'd tried very hard to make this
confrontational.
The brunette began to wake up first. She looked around, finding
herself on the bed. Another restraint they programmed was an
inability to get off the bed. She struggled clumsily to get her feet,
but the best she could do was stand up on the bed.
She saw the sleeping red head. Jean shook the red head awake.
There was a moment of confusion.
====
They pulled up to an isolated mansion. The gabled windows above
towered over a carefully manicured yard, the yard as large as a
couple football fields. Bob saw two functional fountains.
The building rose four stories and was covered with clinging vines.
There were bushes all around. In isolated clumps around the
building, there were men and women being escorted by nurses.
The sign over the door read _Biltmor Rehabilitation Institute_.
"Isn't the real name, you know, but it looks better when the state
investigates us. They have a bad habit of doing stuff like that."
Jones led him through the large oak double doors. They went through a
large ornate entry hall, and down a long length of corridor to the
left.
Bob imagined the eyes on all the portraits in hall were following
them. Too many old movies and mystery novels.
====
Peters was considered a little odd by the standards of the other
techs.
He remembered vividly the day he attacked the tart with the huge
hooters. He'd really enjoyed the experience. Everyone told him it was
her fault. But beating her wildly while screwing her was the best sex
he could remember having.
Now, whenever possible, he would slip into one of the observation
rooms when one of the sparks was permitted their women. Today he
entered a dark room, well mostly dark. There was one lit wall. It was
a window wall, all glass.
On the other side of the glass was a comfortable looking room, King
size bed, dresser, arm chairs, a wall of books with a TV in the
middle. A phone was on the wall next to the door in the lit room.
In one of the chairs was a young man, age indeterminant, Peters
guessed 26 or 27. He was reading a book, Bob couldn't see what the
book was.
He looked over the empty plush seating in the room. Looking over the
log sheets he saw the patient, a spark, in the next room was actually
19. Psychiatric appraisal was this one would soon flip out, the well
known Diety complex everyone talked about.
They'd caught him a month before in a strip joint. He was
systematically beating the talent show girls. And they were showing
all the signs of really liking it. One or two, they wouldn't have
suspected he was a spark. Six he'd only just met was too much.
"Send one of them in." he spoke into the intercom. Then he took his
seat, front row, center.
"Yessir!" a static voice shouted back at him.
He flipped another switch. Every sound in the other room became
audible. The other side of the glass wall was mirror. The sparks knew
they were being watched, but the one way mirror arrangement let them
pretend they had privacy.
The page flip in the other room was very clear to Peters's ears, then
came the sound of a bolt being withdrawn.
The door inside the lit room opened. A radiant blonde, bright gold
hair, stepped into the room. The door latched and bolt slammed behind
her.
"Hello Gabriella." Jimmy said.
The girl had to be in her early 30s. She was lovely to behold. The
blonde hair was only part of it. She was slender, wearing a sleeveless
white cotton dress doing nothing to conceal the soft plush tits
she thrust before her, now that she saw her master.
Her legs were generous in length, giving the illusion she was half
legs. Four inch high heels helped in this impression. Her naked
arms were smooth looking, clear skin. Her fingernails tipped her
fingers in a soft red.
Peters could make out her eyes. They were blue, but somehow lacked a
person behind them. She was mechanical in her motions, silky perhaps,
but he could make out a slight jerkiness to her movements. She had
high cheeks, a slender chiseled nose, and her lips were thin, but
moist, as if begging for kisses.
Peters looked at Jones, who appeared to be doing an inventory of his
pockets. He looked back to watch the two in captivity.
"Oh Jimmy, I've longed for you!" Gabriella spoke. He saw her move
forward to about six feet in front of Jimmy and stop. She posed for
his appraisal.
"Jimmy? maybe you're forgetting something."
"My Lord!, oh I'm sorry My Lord, please forgive me." The girl's cheeks
were becoming damp.
"Well, just for that you better strip down for me."
"OH! thank you, thank you."
She reached both arms around back to pull down the zipper of her
dress. This made her boobs jut farther forward. Peters could make out
her nipples.
The gauges above the wall swung, shifting very fast. Peters knew the
spark was reinforcing his control over her. The telepathy suppression
fields would protect Peters though.
Jimmy immediately stood, reached out and pinched her nipples a bit
violently. She gasped loudly but kept her hands reaching to the
fastenings in the back.
Peters was frustrated by the wall between them. He would like to savor
giving the pain/pleasure she felt. Take and enjoy her. Peters's cock had
gotten hard. He pulled out a rag he'd brought and began to use it to
masturbate.
Her dressed was shrugged off of her shoulders, and only Jimmy's
abusing fingers held it against her bust now. She was struggling to
remain standing, enraptured by the touch, filled with delight.
Jimmy let the dress fall.
She wore no underwear at all. Her tits were tanned, from weeks of
sitting in the sun or under a sun lamp, no lines at all from a bathing
suit or bra.
The nipples stood out hard and pink from Jimmy's use. They were large
nipples, smaller but shaped not unlike nipples on an old style baby
bottle. Swollen, and raw from use, she was clearly thrilled at the
activity.
She stepped her feet over the dress and resumed a pose. Her ankles
turned just so, a series of pleasant little curves. Peters loved
their appearance.
Jimmy walked around her, tracing lines on her skin. He would stop and
hit her with his open palm on her bottom, stomach, tits, or legs from
time to time. As he went, the blows became harder, the sounds of the
slaps much louder.
Her tongue snaked out, possibly from joy, each time the stinging
smack resounded in the room. Red hand prints covered the visible
parts of her anatomy Jimmy had gotten to. Her panting was deeper with
each stroke she received.
"Good cunt." he said.
She beamed as the praise was understood. He sat her down at the edge
of the bed and took off his clothes. Her head drooped to her chest.
Gabriella was highly aroused, it was hard to miss it. The stinging
pain titilated her, bringing desire from her inner self. She was
trying to snaked her torso back and forth to grind her hips. She
rolled her head from shoulder to shoulder with her chin on her collar
bone. The moaning was only just audible.
Jimmy grabbed a fistfull of her hair. He pulled her head up and
forward into his crotch. The ripe red lips opened quickly and
engulfed his now rigid prick. She allowed him to control his rape of
her face, pulling and pushing her head with the handful of hair.
Peters could hear Jimmy's grunting as he forced himself further down
the girl's throat. A catch in the man's breath, a gasp, a wheeze
perhaps, and he pulled out, spraying the white fluid onto her face.
She gasped for breath. Choking and coughing her recovery. Dripping
liquid, at the tip of her nose.
She began to play with herself. Jimmy was now completely unconcerned
about what she did. She lifted her legs up to place her ankles by her
head. Reaching a hand under and around one leg she supported her
back. She played with her cunt with the other hand. Her arms and
shoulders were inside her knees.
She seemed to think it important she see exactly what she touched.
She was partly doubled up, shoving her fingers between the swollen
lips of her slit. Far more impressive than Jimmy's orgasm was the way
her muscles strained to bring about heightened response. Her face
contorted through a series of expressions, each an erotic step above
the previous one.
Peters was intent on her face now. Tears came from the corners of her
eyes, and one hot steamy 'yes' was followed by another. She was tight
with muscular exertion, and sweat was making her entire body glisten.
As she got closer to orgasm, she could no longer watch her fingers
rubbing the swollen bit of flesh between her legs. She rocked her head
back, muttering about needing to come. She kept advancing higher on
the sexual plain, without making it yet.
Jimmy sat up and smirked. He'd recovered from his treat, and was
watching her with greedy anticipation. As if he knew she was trapped
at the edge of her release.
"You wanna come cunt?"
"Oh Lord, I pray you let me come soon, I need it so badly. I've not
come in two days now, and you know my needs. God please, oh please
may I come?"
She continued to frantically masturbate. Her frenzied efforts were
putting her well into the ecstasy she sought. It was the final jolt
she seemed shy of.
"You may come now cunt." Jimmy almost blessed her. Peters could
imagine Jimmy making a cross motion to do so.
She leaned her head forward towards her slit again, as to watch. Then
suddenly she straightened out completely, screaming at the top of her
lungs.
Peters could hear it through the glass. The speaker, perhaps the
microphones couldn't quite take it, had cut out until she finished.
They cut out several times over the next five minutes.
He came in the rag he was using.
Jimmy seemed pleased, starting to play with her nipples again,
squeezing them in his fists. She had an exhausted aftershock, face
wrenched into another expression of ecstasy.
Peters turned off the monitor. He marked the observation sheet up with
no real new remarks. He glanced at the couple in the other room as he
left.
Jimmy was making the girl bow to the mirror, to Peters.
====
"Sit down please," Jones directed.
Bob relaxed in a chair in the middle of what seemed to be Jones's
office. The chair was perfectly situated in front of the desk Jones
sat at.
"There is one little detail we need to accomplish." said Jones.
"What's that?"
"There is a tiny matter of loyalty. We need to know we can trust
you."
Trust goes two ways, Bob thought, but if you wanted trust you never
would have approached my house the way you did. He didn't like
something about this discussion.
"And just how do you intend to find out?"
"Oh, we have a way of ensuring it." and punched a button on his desk.
A pressure drove at Bob's mind from above. Looking up he could now
see an opening above, with a small dish antennae pointing at him.
He was too busy with the symbols to get up from the chair.
The transmitter above was driving one symbol at him, and one symbol
alone, 'Obey'. It was a harsh, highly powered command he was loathe
to accept, especially here. The energy slammed at his skull blithely
shoving his cover persona aside. The bolt smacked into the shield he'd
developed, and pushed him back behind that same barrier.
There was no human source he to reach this time, unlike his
experience with Bambi. No one to shut off, no simple way to retain
his freedom. He was fighting a machine, with far more energy than he
could draw on.
He became quite frantic. Sweat seeped up through the roots of his
hair, and a few drops fell from his eyebrows. He felt his vision
become blurred. The beam was winning. Soon he would not be the same
person he was when he came in this room.
Instead of fighting the beam, he reasoned, perhaps he could draw on
it. He began to take some of the energy from the charged command and
build it into a cup like shield between him and it. This cut the
pressure sharply.
Some of the energy he pulled aside and looking at Jones, he saw
another use. He poured it into a probe to break through the mind
shield Jones wore.
A visible light show commenced in a ball shape around Jones, who
looked quite startled. Jones frantically pressed another button. The
ball shape wasn't as round as Bob thought. He started to explore the
shield's actual limits. The thing was more donut shaped than the ball
shape he originally perceived. The shield collapsed in at the top and
bottom, leading towards the device behind Jones ears.
The abrupt discovery was of little use though. At that moment a pair
of men with pistols burst into the room. One had a hypodermic and
jabbed Bob.
Moments later there was a wild hue of red over Bob's vision and
everything faded to a gray haze.
====
The two women checked out their status. It was a few minutes before
one of them threw a sneaker, proving the barrier only fenced them
onto the bed.
The red head was also checking out the brunette.
"What's your name?" she asked, "I'm Heather."
"Jean. How long have the goons kept you locked up?"
"I've lost track. Must be about three or four months."
"They picked me up a year ago. They prod and poke at me, but I think
they're into some kind of psychological mumbo jumbo."
"You do the mind reading stuff?"
"Yes, you?"
"Sure thing. Your the first person I've met here without those brain
caps they wear. Well, the first they didn't pick up with me."
"Huh?" said Jean.
"Well, I had some girl friends they snatched too, because I, er,
influenced them."
"I haven't seen anyone other than jerks in white coats. Waitaminute,
no, I also had some guy try to make a pass at me, once in my 'cell'."
"Ha! Damn men think they know everything. I can see right through
them now, and they know it."
"Don't you like men?"
"Not really, I like pretty girls. Like you."
"Well you can just stay away from me. I don't like women, even though
I ain't too particular about men either."
The red head was now stroking Jean's hair gently. She was interested
enough, probably horny as all hell. Jean brushed her hand away
sharply.
"Seriously. Leave me be."
The lesbian vixen was now concentrating very hard. Suddenly so was the
brunette shopper. There was a strong momentary intensity. Later, the
observer would learn the scanning apparatus used for this experiment
was registering enormous flares of activity.
It only lasted a few moments.
"You're so lovely, I could eat you right up," were the next words
Jean uttered.
====
"hsst!"
There was a raging rock fall at the back of his head. Every time he
moved another boulder came down on the back of his skull.
"hssst!"
Goddamn, that noise was really annoying. How the fuck did he get a
hangover? Then he remembered.
He was at the Institute. It was obvious they wouldn't just let him
go. Bambi's escape had been a phony, so he had no reason to believe
getting away would be easy.
"hssst!" He pried open one of his eyes. There was a woman in the room
with him. She was trying to get his attention.
The room was some kind of hospital room. There were gurneys near by,
and damn if Bob wasn't tied to one. So he looked back at the woman,
realizing she was tied down too.
"do you know how the 'hunters' caught you?" she whispered. He tried
to reach out with a mind probe, only to catch another heavy boulder
at the back of his head.
Then he noticed the woman had some kind of wire netting over her
head. He probably had the same thing. A restraint for the rebellious
telepath. Groan. The mind shields were bad enough. They seemed to have
other measures at their disposal to control their pet telepaths.
"They came to my house," whispered back, "and invited me to buy a
condo here. I was dumb not to try getting away sooner."
"You seem familiar."
"I recognize you too. Where?"
"Hey, were you the guy warning me a while back?"
"Could be. I did warn.." but he trailed off as footsteps came their
way. He feigned sleep.
The gurney was being moved. He had to try again at escaping, but when?
His entire body felt sluggish and he was tied down to boot. What could
he do?
====
Jean reached over and caressed Heather's hair.
She'd changed from hardened resistance to active participation so
quickly, the observer hoped the cameras weren't having troubles.
They so often did.
Heather in turn began to touch Jean's face. The two women gazed
longingly at each other for long minutes. Then Heather leant forward,
planting a gentle, closed eyes, kiss on the lips of the other woman.
The kiss was as soft as a butterfly. Their tongues remained behind on
this first kiss. Heather was taking Jean. In a very real sense, she
had already taken her and was now making her. Jean's eyes were
slipping into ecstatic movements, taking in every inch of her new
lover.
The two moved together and began deeper, more passionate kisses. Their
tongues dueled for dominance between their teeth, their heads rotated
as they ground their faces.
After a lengthy, rolling, necking session, Heather began to feel
Jean's bottom. Visible now very clearly, her ass was a tight bundle of
flesh. There was a sudden series of movements as Heather yanked the
sweat pants clear of Jean's waist and ass.
The naked skin was smooth and pale. Neither woman had been in the sun
for some time. Heather could clearly make out the smoothness of the
soft derriere. At silky touch along the outer thighs brought a sigh of
joy from the brunette.
The red head moved her palm along the skin, sliding it around to the
exposed maidenhood.
"Oh yes!," came a gasp from Jean. A few moments of feeling up the wet
crotch, and the red head stopped.
"Undress for me darling." whispered Heather, who began to strip
herself.
Heather's pale body was quickly exposed to the light. Her brightly red
nipples on her firm knockers were large and erect. Her legs showed
their slender shapes, almost perfectly designed to be spread for
access to her cunt. The curve of her waistline was so supple, her own
hands traced along it in pleasant arousal.
Jean anxiously drew off her clothing, depositing the sweats where they
were within easy reach. Her breasts were large yet firm also with
smaller nipples than Heather's. Her tummy seemed very tight, pulling
in along the ribs above the diaphragm. The bushy pussy was an
irregular triangle in her crotch between her torso and her slightly
too long legs.
They dove back into each others arms, lips embracing wetly. Their
breasts rubbed together, nipples already erect, cushioning their
movements. The four legs curled about one another in a continual
struggle to pull the two groins tighter together.
After wrestling hotly for a length, Heather pulled back and began to
work her way down Jean's neck to her bosom. She sucked at the nipples
and nibbled lightly at the undersides of the breasts.
"Yes, yes, yes, yes," became a constant stream from Jean. Her hips
were working in waves up from the bed. She worked up a good sweat
before Heather stopped.
Then Jean began to work on Heather. She chewed lightly on the neck of
the other woman, who craned about in response. The moaning from the
bed became substantial. She dropped along the shoulders, spending
little kisses of tenderness along the arm, then under. She spent a
brief moment suckling at the nipples of Heather's breast, then worked
her way down to the thin red-white hairs of the crotch.
Heather lifted her legs onto Jeans back. Jean slid her tongue into the
offered love hole. Her probing tongue fought into the vagina as far as
she could manage. She worked her right arm around Heather's hips to
bring her fingers to bear just past her nose, at the protruding clit.
Heather was bucking furiously. Her right hand plunged the forefinger
knuckles into her own mouth, clamping her teeth down tight. The left
was pinching and pulling madly at the nipple on her left tit.
Jean snaked the free left hand to Heather's other tit and began to
pinch the swollen red nipple between her fingers, using her thumb to
squeeze the whole tit gently.
Heather's hair tossled back and forth as her head wagged from side to
side.
"Goddamn, Goddamn, suck me, suck me. YES! get that tongue deeper." she
demanded.
The brunette strove to drive her tongue further in, possibly
succeeding in pushing her chin into part of the cleft. She made a
frenzied attempt to increase the stimulation to the clitoris, pinching
it with her forefinger and thumb.
"YES!" screamed Heather. The untamed orgasm came pouring out of her in
every possible tone she could make. Jean lapped up the juices leaking
from her cunt.
"YES!" screamed Heather. Comming a second time, hot on the heels of
the first. Her body slammed up against Jean and down against the bed.
"YES!" screamed Heather. Third time as wildly as the first, legs
straight in the air, hands clenched into angry red fists, arms bent
tightly across her chest.
"aaaaaahhhh," came a final notes moan from the sexually spent woman.
Jean sat up and looked carefully at Heather's face, radiant from post
orgasm buzz.
"Oh love, did you like that?"
"Yes. I always like it when a pretty woman eats me."
"I'm glad. It was so lovely to watch you, darling."
Heather struggled around to Jean's cunt and began to lick. Jean was
still hot, but needed arousal first. Heather, frustrated from the
exertion, compelled her by telepathic force to thorough arousal.
Jean began to react uncontrollably to any touch from Heather. Every
contact point had become an erogenous zone. Jean's body was going wild
with stimuli. She frantically heaved her hips and shook her head even
more madly than Heather had.
Heather shoved three fingers into Jean's dripping cunt. She worked
them around, violating her brutally. She fucked in and out with the
fingers, and quickly, Jean began to come.
Her hands clutched Heather's face into her cunt. Her legs clamped onto
the other woman's head.
"AAAIIIIIEEEEE!" she simply made a primal scream last the duration of
the orgasm. It seemed to last and last and last. When she shuddered to
a stop, she was dripping from sweat, panting madly and stroking, as
this had all begun, Heather's sweet hair.
====
The headache continued but he forced a tendril of thought free,
accepting pain to achieve a breakthrough. The slamming pain grew
inside his skull, but his determination was immense. His eyes lost
vision during the effort.
This time he traced with a thin probe around the edge of the donut
shaped shield.
Delight! Success! The shield was not completely covering the man
pushing him. Once in the nervous system pathways, he easily reached
inside the man's mind and took control.
All the while, his skull was rattling like a can of rocks, and his ears
screaming with associated pain. The first thing he did with his
converted follower, shut off the wire net shield.
Relief came as the pounding in his skull stopped. He could almost see
again. Yes, he thought, that was a door we just passed.
Bob had the man take the battery out of his mind shield. His thoughts
became much easier to read. Almost as lifted from behind a thin panel
of translucent glass.
He gave his escort an opportunity to stop for a cigarette. He hated
the smoke, but needed an excuse to have them pause. He wanted to
think, look for some means of complete escape.
There would be many more 'guards' around. He hadn't seen any easy way
out of the place yet.
====
The women on the bed were lying in each others arms. They whispered
sweet nothings to each other, like high school lovers.
The observer pressed a button cutting off any other watchers.
He walked over to the bed. Unzipping his pants, he dropped them beside
the bed. He climbed up behind the red head. He grabbed her ass and
rolled her onto her back.
She squealed with surprise.
"What is it?" yelped her new lover.
"I don't know!" she shouted back, "I just flipped over, I don't know
why."
The man shoved his organ into her, slapping away her hands.
"What!" She felt something at her crotch, and she was unable to close
her legs. Her head flung itself back. She was startled again by the
fullness her cunt was experiencing.
"Yeah, oh yeah, you fucking bitch. You can take this. Take it all."
the man said. She heard nothing, feeling only a sudden arousal from
her crotch. He pumped away furiously, pinning her arms now above her
head. She couldn't resist, and her body began to betray her. Her arms
raised of their own accord above her head, remained in place against
her will.
She was certain she was pinned by an invisible force, and worried she
was being used by another telepath, the way she used women herself.
But her hips worked in motion, her breath had become excited.
Jean sat mystified to the side, wondering if Heather was having some
sort of fit, and just how to help the woman she loved. She enjoyed
seeing Heather's sexual excitement, Heather had changed her to like
it herself.
Heather worked her head hard against the insides of one arm, then the
other. A moment later she had reached a sudden unexpected height. She
orgasmed with silent desperate groans.
Jean squealed with delight, as she'd been adjusted to do, at Heather's
sexual release. She bent over Heather's face to kiss her for rewarding
her with the pleasant performance. She couldn't see the man either.
He could feel the cramped tightness of her vagina. It thrilled him
to know she not only couldn't stop him, but couldn't resist pleasure
during the rape.
He pounded madly, the heat rose within his balls. The pumping muscles
in his groin began to clutch to release the fluids. His penis felt the
flow in its entire length. He grunted with satisfaction at planting
his seed in the red furred slut.
He rolled from the woman, and slid off the bed.
He was pissed. The programming hadn't held well. She'd felt quite a
bit of the contact from him. This was not good, no, not good at all.
He tried to remember the name of the tech who did the work. There
would be punishment coming for the failure, however small it was.
Dressed again, he left the room.
====
The woman on the other gurney had been named Miki.
They sat in the hall they first met in. Three of the guards and the
original escort for Bob's gurney were sitting together, imagining a
continuous came of poker in the corner. No cards were in evidence, yet
they kept dealing out the imaginary deck, sometimes from the bottom.
He filled her in on his capture and discoveries regarding the
weakness of the shields. She was delighted to hear this news. But
seemed unable to take advantage of it the same way he was.
If she was to get out, she had to go with him. His probes kept
running into walls or screens like the net screen he'd taken off his
head. He tried probing around them to no avail. He kept getting raging
pains in his head.
They remained dependent on things he could learn from the captives.
====
Bambi and Randi woke together. Bob wasn't there.
By the time Betty woke, they'd found the note. Betty was compelled to
make breakfast. She'd come to serve everyone in the house.
After breakfast, Bambi had Betty eat her. She sat back while the long
haired woman sucked and licked her cunt.
"Mind if I use her next?" asked Randi.
"Ah, ah, sure, ah, thing, ah," muttered Bambi. Betty glowed inwardly
knowing she was loved.
There would be no problem waiting for Bob to return.
****
So, maybe now the plot's advanced a bit, I can all screw around a bit
again. Okay, how does that sex stuff work? Oh, yeah. I almost forgot.
-Blackie
With his penis in turgid erection,
And aimed at woman's mid-section,
Man looks most uncouth,
In that Moment of Truth,
But she sheathes it with loving affection.
-circa 1965
--
I will ignore all requests for: reposts, e-mailing parts, ftp/gif/archive
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Path: holytoy!seunet!seunet!sunic!news.funet.fi!news.eunet.fi!EU.net!howland.reston.ans.net!vixen.cso.uiuc.edu!laff
From: laff@sal.cs.uiuc.edu (Joshua A Laff)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: ARCHIVE: the-book-8.Z
Message-ID: <2tuael$br6@vixen.cso.uiuc.edu>
Date: 18 Jun 1994 08:15:17 GMT
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Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Organization: University of Illinois at Urbana
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This story is another from the archives, and is not written by me.
Requests for just about anything concerning these posts will be ignored.
See the FAQ in a.s.s.d for more information. And stop sending talk
requests. Even when I'm logged in to this posting site, I usually
have the window closed, and if I don't, it's because I'm WORKING
From: an21262@anon.penet.fi (Blackie)
Date: Fri, 18 Jun 1993 15:17:01 GMT
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Story: Overleaf (_The Book_ pt 8)
Another episode in _The Book_, A mind control story.
This episode is heavy on plot again. Poor Bob. *sigh* Plot often is
harder to write than sex is. Even harder to work sex into when you
really need to fill out the plot, which was being vaporous until last
we left Bob, in the lurch.
The characters in this story are fictional; any resemblance to
persons living, dead or otherwise is strictly coincidence. You see any
similarities, keep them to yourself.
f/f, m/f, often non-consensual, strictly fantasy.
Hit 'n' to skip this story.
_Overleaf_
The weather ruled the day. It had begun with hot steamy sunshine, but
by noon the rain came down in sheets. Just as Diane had resolved
herself to becoming soaked, the storm abated. Puffy clouds were soon
all that was left in the sky.
Diane was a reporter. She was a good reporter. She believed in the
fourth estate as a branch of government. She was one of those true
believers who thought everyone had a right to know everything,
anywhere.
Her beliefs caused her some problems.
The worst problem was working as an employee for any real News
outfit. The papers almost always had editorial policies she didn't
like. She'd gone from print to broadcast because she figured it would
be different. The reality of much harsher controls in the broadcast
media hit her hard.
So she worked pretty much freelance, kinda. Her job with the 11
O'clock News for the KUTE network was fairly nebulous. When she got
stories they liked, she got paid. Otherwise she was shit outa luck.
She got paid fairly regularly.
The story she was working on came from a strange tip. Some guy called
and said the Biltmor Rehabilitation Institute was committing
experiments on the inmates. Some kind of brain research. He chatted
with her long enough for her to find out he worked for the Institute.
She tried a few phone calls this morning. Every time she got through
to someone important enough to know anything, she was told the
Institute didn't grant interviews. After further research, she found
no record of the Institute in the state registries. No charter, no
license, no known clients, no credentials to support the lofty title.
Her sometimes boss, Mr. Magnum, managing editor, told her to go get
the dirt on them; he'd buy it. She smiled weakly at this, since there
was no way to get the dirt without sneaking in.
So here she was, soaking wet, hot, and uncomfortable. The damn place
was like an old style fortress. Two sides of the property were bounded
by river, a third side had a sizable swamp. The remaining side of the
property had a 20 foot wall along it, with superfluous closed circuit
TV atop.
She'd moored the boat in the swamp. Scratching her left leg, she
regretted not wearing jeans for this outing. She could feel every
inch of her exposed skin screaming for just a few moments of
scratching.
Nothing deterred Diane. Her camera man was trailing behind her. Jorge
had never yet managed to keep up with her on a story. He'd make it
right beside her when it was time to shoot, but she always broke the
ground. This time in a more physical sense than usual.
Jorge was a pretty nice guy. She'd worked with him now for five years.
He'd never made a pass at her either. For camera men, that had to be a
world's record. She was pretty good looking, or she'd have a tougher
time in front of the camera. And all camera men tend, she believed, to
be on the make all the time. Except Jorge. Sometimes she wished he
was.
Jorge was a true blessing for her career too. He had to read her mind
sometimes to catch the angles he got on film. She rarely had to edit
out enormous quantities of footage he'd taken. He almost always ran
the camera perfectly for her face shots, and never let her profile
look bad. Always, he managed to stop filming just as or before any
flubs she made. Nice to have a psychic camera man. She smiled at the
thought.
Jorge was immensely interested in this story too. For the first time
he'd volunteered to do some of the research leg work on a story she
was working. Odd for him, demanding every word the informant uttered
verbatim, hanging over her shoulder to hear what she'd learn.
A bird leapt into the air before her. She managed to avoid jumping or
screaming with surprise. Startled for Diane meant 'drop for cover'.
She remembered covering riots downtown in her first year as a
professional. The constant hazard taught her caution rather than
fear. It helped over the years.
The wood she was trying to sneak through silently was making every
effort to shout out her location. If it wasn't the damn birds, it was
twigs, if not twigs, it was scratchy underbrush. The moist earth
beneath her feet would sink away, leaving her 4-5 inches in the dirt,
almost sucking her sneakers off. The branches she chose to hold for
support gave way violently, shaking volumes of leaves above.
When she finally got to the open fields of the Institute, she was
relieved to escape the jungle like swamp. Jorge said nothing, just
waited her directions.
There were statues standing about on a manicured lawn. The water in
the fountains sparkling in the intermittent sunlight. Wait, those
weren't statues. They were all wearing white coats, white jump suits,
or white whatever.
Jorge pointed to a few rows of coniferous bushes in a line towards the
house. House?, mansion more like. The thing was four stories tall. The
triangular shapes above the top windows made the place look like the
setting for a gothic horror, except for the lack of gargoyles. Maybe
the frightful statuary would be there when she got closer.
They moved towards the bush line.
====
Bob and Miki lay hidden in the storage room all night. The frantic
sounds of search activity had force them to send the remaining captive
guards out to join in the hunt.
The room was only searched once, by a single guard, who was easily
convinced of its secure condition. Bob smiled, it hadn't been as
difficult as the first time to get through the thought shield.
Amazingly Bob felt very horny. Odd reaction to being so severely in
danger.
He remembered a car accident years ago. During the incident he'd only
thought about how it would ruin his afternoon. The time he'd been
mugged, well some guy tried anyway, all Bob had thought of then was
how he'd be getting home.
The amazing thing was, he could probably take Miki. She'd probably
never be able to stop him. He figured Bambi had the stronger will
power, or talent, or whatever. He stopped himself. There was a time
and place for screwing around. This wasn't one of them.
The search had moved on, they had probably concluded Bob and Miki
reached the outer grounds by now.
It was time to try again.
====
"uh, uh, uh, uh" sounds of carnal pleasure came from behind one of
the bushes.
Although amused, Diane wasn't the least bit interested in a humping
couple on the other side of the bush. She might've been, if she knew
one of the inmates was boffing away madly with one of the sex slaves
he was captured with. Although how she would know is anyone's guess.
Curiosity overcame Jorge. He was also very amused, but kept it to
himself. He snuck a peek to see what the couple looked like.
While he was snooping, Diane got a bit ahead. She lost track of the
camera man. When she turned to ask his opinion on approaching the
building, he simply wasn't there.
Damn, she thought, first time he's ever done that. Maybe the couple in
the bushes was worth looking into for a minute or two. Jorge might
finally be showing some sexual interest. Naw, Jorge would catch up.
As she mused, a crackle of twigs directly behind her drew her
attention.
"My, my, my." A man with a pistol stood about four feet away. "Where
the hell did you come from lady?"
She realized she was a wreck. Her hair was matted from the drenching
rain, and mud of the swamp. The dress she wore was tattered and torn
from the underbrush. The guy couldn't help but know she was out of
place. Oh well, she had to try to baffle him.
"I took a walk and got lost."
"Not without an escort you wouldn't. You were in the swamp. Trying to
sneak in for something? A boyfriend maybe? You one of the sluts who
follow their men into this place, eh? Perhaps you..." THUNK!
The gunman dropped to the ground. Behind him stood Jorge, his almost
white blonde hair standing over her assailant with a stick. The
camera was missing, which made him look naked to Diane.
"God, I'm glad you caught up."
"Wouldn't want you to get hurt." he said.
Bending over Jorge picked up the nasty looking weapon. He turned it
over a few times. Then he handed it to her.
"Dart gun. Probably tranquilizers."
"Makes sense," she answered, "they wouldn't want to injure the
inmates, after all."
Jorge pointed to the camera propped up in one of the bushes. He walked
over and popped the small red button keeping it running.
"Great Jorge. You always manage to catch the angles for me." She blew
him a kiss. He ignored it. He never even flirted with her. It was just
as well, she guessed, but it might be nice once in a while.
Diane moved to the next opening in the bushes, peering ahead. Jorge
was turning over the gunman.
Diane missed the motion as Jorge pulled what looked like a hearing aid
from the man's right ear. Turning it in his hand, it popped open and
a small battery dropped out. He grinned and put the device, without
battery, back behind the man's ear. If anyone had been watching, Jorge
would have seemed to be examining the man's skull for permanent
injury.
For an additional moment Jorge intently examined the guard. Diane
thought he was terribly decent, being concerned that he'd hurt the man.
He hoisted the man to his shoulders and carried him closer to a pair
of closely grown bushes. With a little pushing and shoving the man
disappeared from the casual observer, for now.
Diane looked approvingly at Jorge's work, flagging him to hurry up.
====
Jones was uncomfortable. He all about Tyler. He figured the same
treatment could soon be his. He made a conscious decision to try not
to sweat. It wasn't working very well.
"Astounding, Mr. Jones. Simply astounding."
"Yes sir."
"There must have been a problem with the drug. Who was last to see
him?"
"One of five lab techs sir. We don't know which one. The log sheet for
moving the subject from the tie down room to the sampling lab is
missing."
"I see."
The pause dragged for a few minutes. The man in the large leather
chair turned away. Jones stood perfectly still, hoping for salvation
by being overlooked.
"This was a bad day for this Jones. We have guests coming, you know."
"I know sir."
"Important guests."
"Yes sir."
Another pause left Jones worrying about this compounding aspect. How
would it affect him?
"Jones, I want all the lab techs who could've been there locked up."
"Sir?"
"Any one of them could be a time bomb. If the spark is free, he may
have done something to their minds. Ah, his mind, the tech who let
him loose. You said he was smart. That makes him dangerous, in ways
beyond what we usually see. He's not just another lunatic with ESP."
"I will see to it, sir."
"Go. Report back when they find him. Oh, and the new girl, I want her
brought up to the lab to see what affect he's had."
"On my way."
He turned and started towards the door.
"And Jones, don't screw this up. Tyler really didn't please Jezabel."
A series of chills went down Jones's back. He stepped up his speed to
perform for his master.
====
The Fates didn't seem to like Bob any more.
Although the search moved outside, there were plenty of the guard
type goons in the halls. It was annoying. Working around the mind
shields was difficult, and took time. Enough time for someone to
react and just shoot.
He didn't want a drugged dart stuck in his fanny. It didn't appeal to
him. Not to mention all the other unpleasant possibilities afterwards.
Miki assumed the role of fairy tale princess. A quiet 'rescue me
please' princess. He didn't mind. The arguments over who was in charge
never occurred. She just tagged right behind him.
There were a small group of goons coming from around the corner. At
least he assumed they were, there were seven or eight mind shields he
could count.
Trying the door next to them, he led Miki into a dark room.
His ear to the door, it sounded as though the group was about to come
in here. Looking about he saw there was a very large round wooden
platform, and sections of room with hanging curtains partially
concealing a dozen or more chairs.
He led Miki behind one of the curtains, hid himself behind another.
====
There were several guests. Some from as far away as China.
Today the Institute was showing product to potential clients. Each
one had brought an unsuspecting secretary or party official for the
demonstration.
A man with Italian leather shoes bade them enter the theater chamber.
There were a few stragglers, yes, ten in all entered the room for the
pitch. He turned on the light over the platform, and climbed up to
stand stand dramatically above.
"Gentlemen, take seats, I beg of you. We will begin sooner if you are
seated."
In the light it became clear this man carried himself with an
aristocratic bearing. He was unconcerned with anyone else present,
except in that they represented income. His suit, a perfectly cut,
hand tailored charcoal gray pin stripe, accented his authority well.
Hands behind his back, standing as though at parade rest for a
soldier he began to speak.
"I am Mr. Thadeous. I am the Institute."
"What you are here for today is a look at a new method we've developed
for brainwashing. We can use it to get information from anyone, no
matter how well trained. We can use it to ensure loyalty to you, no
matter how bad the subjects prior record. We can control anyone for
you, for a fee.
"The price will depend on your needs. All we need is for the
individual to be improved, yes improved, brought here for the
improvement."
"Mr. Thadeous, we are willing to bid on the process itself. How much
for the process?" came from an individual with a brown suit on.
"It's not for sale, Mr. Vinocelli. Not at any price. But, we can sell
your organization the kind of protection you've only dreamed of.
Croupiers and dealers with scrupulous attention to your profits.
Girls who will not quake at any request, and charge accordingly. But
the process is our property."
"I take it you will not make this product available exclusively?" Came
from a woman with jet black hair, wearing an old style veiled bonnet.
"Mrs., um, Leclair, We are in this for the profit. We'd be at odds
with too many organizations cut out of the loop, if they couldn't get
the product we offer. At the same time, we expect our customers to
respect our proprietary interests. Since it will serve you as well."
"If it works you mean."
"Which brings us to the purpose of this little demonstration. Mrs.
Leclair, We've taken your, volunteer along with all the others, and
performed the process. We asked you to bring the volunteers simply to
show how quickly this process works."
He looked at his watch.
"Barely fifteen minutes have passed since they went to the labs.
Since you questioned our veracity about the 'product', you may want
to examine them yourself.
"This is not hypnosis, although it may resemble it. Nor are we using
drugs. We directly altered their minds with a device we developed
here for the purpose."
A lab tech led six people into the room. They each carried a folding
chair onto the platform. The tech unfolded each chair and sat the
'volunteers' one at a time.
"Now, you should be aware the subjects can neither hear nor see us.
Nor can they feel anything we do."
He slapped one subject. Happily, this time there was no physical
reaction to his action. He'd worried about that since taking Heather.
====
Bob was amazed. There was a real conspiracy underway. Not something
simple like his own, to enjoy his new found sex life, comfortable in
his life style.
This was a power play of far more insidious proportions.
Bob reached out to sense the six placid individuals on the platform.
All of them bore overwhelming changes from a machine. One like the one
they tried to use on him.
It hit him like a bolt from the blue. Their machines produced none of
the subtle manipulation that modified Bambi. Her changes and controls
were subtle enough to be very difficult to remove completely.
Who adjusted Bambi when she'd been 'programmed' and set loose?
Thadeous was still speaking about the advantages of improved
employees, agents, and even ex-enemies. Bob looked at the man, seeing
no hearing aid like device. He could clearly see both ears, and
neither bore any evidence of a mind shield.
And Bob had just probed the 'volunteers'!
The guest's volunteers were babbling continuously. All kinds of
embarrassing details. Things the Institute would know nothing about.
Yet legally questionable, and obviously secret. Including personal
plans to assassinate their superiors, dealings with other agencies, and
other common human schemings.
But in general, not really harmful to the guests either.
"Stop." Thadeous said.
The men and women on the stage instantly ceased speaking.
"You can count on business with us," one man muttered. He was carrying a
large briefcase and fit no more than a non-descript image. His accent
placed him from the deep south. Bob could imagine any of a number of
incredibly fascist organizations he might represent.
"I'm sold too," the lady named Leclair chimed in. Bob figured there
were at least three organized crime syndicates, one south american
country, a major international corporation, and a terrorist group
represented here. They would all be very unhappy if he escaped.
On the other hand, what could he do about them?
In only a few short moments the entire audience agreed to do business
with the Institute. There were no dissenters, this wasn't a bidding
session. Price would be discussed elsewhere, somewhere more
comfortable.
Thadeous signalled the tech to remove the volunteers, and led the
guests from the room.
Bob didn't know whether to panic or breath a sigh of relief.
====
Damn him, thought Diane. She'd been separated from Jorge again.
She managed to break a pane of glass, reaching through to open the
window. She stepped through, looking for all the world like an
inexperienced cat-burglar.
There was a red headed woman in the room. She was about 5'7" with a
reasonably well shaped figure. Her green eyes turned in surprise on
Diane. The woman was dressed in a hospital green gown, with no shoes,
stockings, or other acouterment. She'd been brushing her hair.
She was very pretty, thought Diane. Her full red lips were incredibly
moist and well shaped. Diane stepped forward, reaching for the woman's
hands.
"Hello pretty," came a sweet cotton candy voice, melting in her ears.
She could listen to that voice for hours, she was certain. Just
looking at this woman made her realize how long she had gone without
sex.
The red head was so voluptuous, so incredibly tasty to watch. Diane
could never leave her new love, she was so perfect. She devoured
the woman with her eyes for only a moment, though.
Then she plunged her tongue into the other woman's mouth, savoring
the delectable flavor of sexual passion burning there.
She could feel a hand reaching around to undo her dress. She assisted,
shrugging off the ragged clothe. Her body exposed, suddenly her matted
hair worried her. Would the red head dislike her because of her
poor appearance?
No, the white hands were gently rubbing her breasts, sending bolts of
pleasure throughout her body.
She threw herself into the pleasant haze of sex, giving herself to
this mysterious woman.
====
Bob and Miki, slipped into the hallway again. Almost right on the
tail of the demonstration party.
But Bob simply took them across the hall and through the door there,
which was ajar. He shoved her to the side of the door, looking about
this new room quickly.
He saw no one in the new room, but he heard the sound of running
feet. About a dozen men dashed into the room with the stage. Bob left
the door as it was and looked about. He scanned about for a good
hiding place.
He couldn't find one.
A guard opened the door that wasn't latched and looked around in the
room. There was nothing unusual. The place looked just fine. No one in
here.
"Not this room." the guard announced to his unseen buddies behind. He
pulled the door closed and latched the outside deadbolt.
Bob breathed again. If any more than one guard had looked in here,
they'd have found the fugitives. One he could get a control on, two he
wasn't ready to try.
Miki nuzzled up against Bob.
It looked like they were stuck again for a while. Bob might not need
to do anything to Miki to have some fun. They could kill an hour or
two here until the search moved back outside again.
====
Jorge had lost Diane.
He was confused. He'd always been able to find her again if she zipped
out of sight too fast before.
He set the camera down. He didn't want to hurt Diane's feelings, but
there would be no News story from their little jaunt. He opened the
casing where the film was and pulled out a metal foil packet of some
sort.
Unwrapping the foil carefully, he removed a small red object, about
the size of a coin. He refolded the foil and replaced it in the camera
casing.
The coin sized object was a red, almost amber like substance. On one
side was a man's profile with a superimposed triangle. On the other a
stylized lightning bolt.
He removed his watch and slid the coin into a slot designed to hold
the coin against his skin. The back of the coin seemed to fit the
pattern of the watch, or was it the other way around. In any case, the
coin appeared to be part of the watch now.
He strapped the watch back on, without looking at the time at all.
The camera was now tucked out of sight, behind a planter in the
garden. He examined the leaves he'd covered it with and finally
pronounced to himself the adequacy of his work.
He began to look for ways into the building.
====
Bob pulled Miki to him.
She came much more willingly than he'd expected. Well, here they were
in the middle of a nest of vipers, or some kind of really bad guys,
and they were hiding out, snuggling, getting fuzzy together.
He could understand himself. He needed an escape from the surrounding
reality while they hid, but her?
He tried to probe her mind.
{Hi!}
{Hi yourself} whispered the voice in his head. {Do you think we can
safely kill an hour or two rubbing our bodies together for warmth?}
{Maybe, does that appeal to you right now? aren't you scared?}
{Yup, but I'm having this urge to screw. It gets worse every time we
find a relatively safe hiding place.}
He thought about it and wondered if she was picking up his horniness
without knowing it. Seepage of his thoughts worried him, a little. He
looked inward to see if he was losing control.
He found nothing, so he slipped as subtle and covert a probe as
possible into her mind. She was horny too. But he uncovered a thin,
almost invisible trace of control. Examining it closely, he saw it was
his own. Unconsciously, to his surprise, he had taken her. She was
his, and nothing she could do would change the fact.
He let their lips meet. A moment later their tongues introduced
themselves. It should be a peaceful break from being chased about the
premises.
He needed the break.
====
The door had been left open.
Several doors had been left open. Jorge was bemused at the guards
running hither and yon, searching for someone. Some strange event
was happening here.
He acquired a lab coat from a surprised, and now unconscious,
technician of some sort. With a clipboard and a pocket full of pens,
everyone seemed to accept him without any trouble. Also, the little
false hearing aid gizmo behind his right ear leant an air of
authenticity. His almost white hair didn't seem to bother anyone.
Trying to find something, anything, leading to Diane's whereabouts was
tedious work. If he intruded in the wrong place, someone would know he
wasn't one of 'them'.
He felt the pounding of running feet through the soles of his shoes.
After agonizing whether to bluff, or hide, he chose the later action.
A door to his left popped open quickly, permitting entry to a nicely
furnished private room. Very much like the sanatorium you might expect
if you were a visitor.
He closed the door behind, listening for the running feet to pass.
The room had a single window, with plush red curtains. The walls were
done in a style of wallpaper you often find in old houses, faded
beyond recognition. There was a dresser with a small mirror above, a
chair and a bed.
He saw a woman, in her early 30s, sitting on the bed.
====
When Jorge was fifteen, he still lived as a native of Denmark.
They'd lived near Skagen, at the northern tip of the country. He'd
played quite a bit in the caves his father told him about along the
cold Kattegat.
The caves, according to his father, had been used to hide Jews from
the evil men who corrupted the soul of the German people and brought
the invading armies into Denmark.
That was over long before Jorge first climbed into the caves. Yet he
knew intimately how the Underground developed cocaine laced
handkerchiefs to deaden the noses of the dogs used to search. And he
warmed with pride when he thought of King Christian wearing the Star
of David rather than allow his people, however few, to fall to the
devil marching with the German armies.
Jorge often came to see where his father had played so important a
role in saving so many people. Where the fishing boat had left for
Marstrand or Lysekil in Sweden, a long and grueling voyage. Dangerous
because the Kat was pretty brutal on occasion.
Sometimes he would sit for hours on the rocks inside, watching the
tide grow into the mouth of the caves. The sea beckoned to him,
calling for him to travel. But he sat and thought of Edda, three years
older than himself, and his travel lust waned.
She was lovely. Her waist length braid of blonde hair accented the
sway of her hips. Her eyes glistened with joy when she spoke, and
every movement of her hands was accompanied with a happy carefree
skill.
He wanted to tell her of his love, but he was dreadfully frightened.
After all, he was only a child, although he felt he was a man.
One day in the caves, escaping his frustrated tongue tied desire,
he stumbled across it.
A locket, an old remnant from one of the refugees of war. No, maybe
not, the chain was embedded in the dirt and rock. In the rock above
were several strange runes he'd never before seen. With his lamp
shining directly on the runes, he almost thought he could read them.
After struggling to make out the meaning for a time, he pulled at the
locket and the chain snapped. The locket came free with what pieces of
chain remained attached.
He could not open the jewelry in the cave, so he shoved it in his
pocket and fled for home.
On the way he found Edda walking in the sunshine, having been off on a
picnic. She was beautiful, wearing an old traditional style dress and
white blouse, embroidered in colorful red, yellow and blue.
"Hello Edda."
"Why hello little Jorge."
He burned red with fury. She should see him as a man!, as her man! He
was unsure enough he thought of turning to leave. Being called 'little
Jorge' was not what he wanted to hear from her.
In some strange way, all this interesting thinking came out in runes
similar to the ones on the walls of the cave.
"Oh Jorge, where have you been? You're shoes are wet!"
"I went to the caves. They're peaceful. It gives me a chance to sit
and think."
"Do you think you could take me there?"
"Sure, when do you want to go?"
She looked over her shoulder at the friends she'd been out with. They
waved at her.
"Let's go now," she decided.
In a cul-de-sac hollow near the caves they stopped together and
listened to the rolling of the sea. She was silent, almost
reflective. He admired the roundness of her chin, the pink high
points of her cheeks, and the smile she had shown him on their walk.
"I haven't seen much of you lately," she said.
"I've been exploring the caves."
"I like seeing you Jorge."
Not little Jorge, but simply 'Jorge'. He wondered about her out of the
ordinary behavior.
She leaned into him, putting her head on his shoulders. His
uncertainty was growing. He enjoyed the presence of the soft golden
hair against his cheek. His arm wrapped about her shoulders, holding
her close.
The birds of the sea made their skreeing sounds.
Edda lifted her head, eyes closed, slightly puckering her lips for a
kiss. He breathed out slowly, and joined his lips to hers. A moment
later he found himself surprised again as the laughing pink tongue she
had embarrassed him with verbally, was exploring his mouth.
Her right hand found its way to his leg, and crept up to his crotch,
feeling his manhood right through the fabric of his American jeans.
The cock under her hand swelled immediately.
After she'd rubbed his cock through the jeans for a time, she gathered
his left hand in her right. Pulling gently, she led the hand over her
breast. He could feel the softness of the fleshy mound, and the lines
of her bra. He also felt a hard little bump at the peak. She gasped in
air as he played his fingers across the hard little bump.
Her hand worked his pecker through the cloth, and soon he had spilt
out his sperm inside his pants. He was embarrassed, she seemed
disappointed.
"What are we doing?" he asked. His release had relaxed his concern a
bit.
"Making sure you know I love you," came the reply.
Her smile quickly perked up. She shucked off her blouse and bra,
exposing for him the enticing redish brown nipples of her somewhat
generous bosom.
She took off the bright red skirt and lay it down in the soft grasses.
Then she set to work undressing him. She worked her soft red lips over
his naked skin as she revealed any more than an inch or two of it. Her
tongue danced along the recesses of his crotch, staying for now, away
from his prick.
Soon her fingers, with their unadorned but almost perfect nails,
caressed the folds of his balls and phallus. Still, he remained soft
until her lips came to the flacid penis, sucking in past her teeth the
head, working the tip of her tongue into the opening at the end.
His organ rose, stiffening with each glorious plunge she made towards
his torso. Soon it had achieved a rigid hardness he couldn't recall
ever attaining before.
Edda stradled his body with her legs, lowering the fur covered
triangular patch of her groin towards his prick.
"Ohhh, yess!" she muttered as the organ entered the cavity she had
proffered. Her head rolled down, chin on her chest. Her arms she
placed on his chest to support her body, which now began to rise and
fall along the length of his cock.
She was moist inside, he thought, and so deliciously warm. His length
was plunging in and out as his own hips tried to pump deeper into the
tunnel above. He watched with interest as the two breasts waved up and
down. The nipples were forming oval shapes in opposite directions as
she concentrated more and more on the pleasure she was receiving.
"uh, oh, god," she mumbled over and over. The blonde braid waved like
a whip as her head spun first one direction, then the other. The
breathing was deeper, the panting continuous as she went into
overdrive.
"OH! YES!" she cried out. He thought the entire town nearby could
hear her voice. She bucked out, thrusting her glorious chest forward
above his head, then she bucked back, forcing him deeply within her
while tucking her head down again. She did this four or five times.
As she screamed out her happy release, he felt the muscles in his
groin tighten, it felt so good to feel the rapid flow of semen up
through his groin and out the tip of his penis. He knew she'd given
herself over to him completely now. The pounding of his heart was a
reminder of how strong the orgasm had been.
She sank down across his body, joining her mouth to his in a lengthy
sloppy kiss.
Later, as they nestled together, she asked him what they'd name the
baby. This jolted him out of the reverie he was in.
Fortunately no baby came. He was able to convince her without to much
trouble how bad it would be to have children before they were ready.
Soon, she was on the pill.
They played at sex for a few more hours before returning home.
The next time, they used a bedroom in his parent's house when they
were away. He entered her and they remained physically joined for
hours, even after his organ shriveled down to a flacid lump of flesh.
They performed every conceivable method of reaching orgasm. He was
amazed how much Edda knew. When she offered him her ass he was shocked
at first, then intrigued. The tightness was an exciting experience,
which he would always relish.
Over the next four years they could rarely be found separately. There
were so many ways she would let him take her, so many places.
It was a bit of a scandal, an older girl chasing after a teenager.
But they had some great fun together, even after he realized it was
the secret symbols of the runes giving her to him. Not some secret
longing for him she might have had.
The runes gave him the power to make her come too. Her orgasms became
so dramatic and powerful under his control, she frequently couldn't be
roused for an hour or two afterwards.
Her body was completely his property, her mind a part of the deal.
For quite some time, anything he said went. He took her to parties,
sometimes screwing her in front of total strangers, forcing an orgasm
from her when she was too nervous to believe it possible.
In time he came to understand he didn't really want her. Not if she
was completely under his control. He found he could control almost
anyone. Every attractive girl in town was his at one time or another.
Edda even watched out for interlopers on a few occasions.
He gave Edda the freedom of not wanting him anymore. They drifted
slowly, but amiably apart.
There was an absence for a long time in his life, a hole, some missing
piece of him. He began to travel. With his unique ability to see into
and control even a stranger's mind, he could go anywhere, do almost
anything he wanted.
There were new worlds to explore, new adventures. Every day contained
an interesting exploration, and new romances he could tailor to suit
his immediate desires. Married or single, no woman could resist his
talent. None denied him access to their sex.
He rapidly lost count of the number of women he'd had. But he really
hadn't lost any interest in sex.
Until he was much older than fifteen, anyway.
====
The woman on the bed was Edda. No, not really, but similar enough to
be a twin.
There was the long golden hair in a braid, down to her waist. Her eyes
sparkled with the same happy fire. Her fingers moved with the a
skillful grace as her hand covered her open and surprised lips.
He could feel her thought tendrils trying to grab him. She was trying
to make him see how important it was to free her. But she couldn't
see, couldn't know. Her best chance for escape was not from
controlling him.
She was startled again. Her probe for control was thrust aside like so
many spiderwebs, a fragile gossamer set of threads.
He explored her mind with the far more practiced skill he brought with
him.
She was unhappy. The strange men in their lab coats had spent the
first few days of her stay poking and prodding, taking blood samples,
and a battery of physical exams. She'd been kidnapped bodily from the
middle of the grocery store.
When they got her here they kept asking her about how she'd learned to
read minds. She knew they'd used drugs, but she had no idea what kind.
Only, now and then they gave her something to make her feel good.
She was told they found her because of all the poor folk she'd helped.
She helped some homeless people recover from bizarre little problems.
She couldn't know the homeless people she'd been helping were
considered hopeless but functional cases. Released because of the lack
of room and probability they'd never change. They started turning up
recovered, started finding jobs, living more happy, content lives.
The Institute began looking for the common factor. The common factor,
one fairly ordinary housewife with a penchant for being present at the
time they began to recover.
Every day they'd tried to coerce her to reveal something about how her
talent worked. Every day she tried to tell them, but couldn't. Every
day was the same, trapped here in this comfortable prison.
They hadn't come today, but now this nice almost white haired, bronze
hued man was here, and he didn't have one of those nasty noise makers
to keep her out of his mind. But...
He made her sleep.
====
Jorge came to New York to see the City. He was excited to find a new
pool of resources for his fun.
He'd spotted a short but well stacked woman on sixth avenue. Her face
was fairly ordinary, but the legs and her shape, oh my.
As he was following her uptown along Sixth Avenue, strange the way
New Yorkers referred to north as uptown and south as downtown, a
strange thing happened.
Some crazy driver turned his white mustang south onto Sixth. He was
zipping along too, in heavy traffic. All, of course, going uptown but
him. For the first two blocks he weaved in and out of the oncoming
vehicles, but then he bumped up the curb onto the sidewalk.
The next two blocks the car was on the sidewalk.
Jorge and the woman he'd been following were walking in that last two
blocks. He managed to pull her aside, watching two interesting events
springing from the silly stunt with the car.
First was the cop on the sidewalk trying to stop the car by his
physical presence. Astonishingly, he'd tried to impose himself in the
path of the oncoming vehicle. At the last moment he seemed to decide
it wasn't worth his life to try ticketing the determined kid behind
the wheel. He dove aside.
Second was the passengers in the car, except for one of them the four
kids along for the ride were having a great time. One of them in the
back seat looked for all the world as thought the world was after him
specifically. He had the frightened look of someone in the paranoid
stages of pot.
The cop was face down, and looked angry. The car had turned at the end
of the sidewalk, going the right way now on the street it had found.
Jorge smiled. These things seemed to happen more often in New York.
He took the woman to her home.
She rewarded his heroism at assisting her avoid the little event of
insanity in her otherwise normal world, by offering him coffee. He
decided the coffee wasn't enough.
Alicia, her name, started dancing for him, taking off her clothing,
one button at a time. She was small and wiry. But her tits were large
for her figure. The clothing dropped one by one, into a neat pile
beside her.
His cock plunged into her tuft of hair and flesh in her groin, and he
felt a relief at the normalcy involved with this violation of her
body. He enjoyed the power he had over her, making her orgasm several
times while he rode her.
He could feel, as often before, the tightening muscles of cunt, trying
to grip him tightly. But not as tightly as he'd like tonight. So he
rolled her over, and took her other hole. She screamed at first about
not doing it, about how disgusting he was being, and how it would
hurt.
But as he knew, it took but a few moments to change her mind, and soon
she enjoyed it too.
After he finished his own pleasure, filling her with his semen, he
changed her to become sexually desperate for his attention. Then he
enjoyed having her do things for him. Like make dinner in the nude,
sit at his feet, sucking his cock while he watched a Kolchak the
Night Stalker movie on channel 9.
He gave her orgasms as she walked about, cleaning up dinner, and even
just changing the channels on the TV. If he took it into his head to
do so, he simply forced another jolt of sexual release through her
body. It was fun to watch as she stood naked before the front window,
knowing anyone could see.
He loved watching her total helplessness, listening to her beg him to
give her a break, then beg for the spasmotic orgasm she could feel
coming.
About the time he got dressed again, a key opened the front door. In
walked a man, in jeans and sneakers, wearing a turtleneck sweater.
For a moment they stared at each other. They stared because they'd
both made a cursory attempt to spin a web of control over each other.
The man looked at Alisia, who was presently on the floor of the living
room, jolting through another rending and frantic coming. Her body was
thrashing about with the pleasure, and her sweat was pouring out as
she moved.
"I see you've had Alisia."
"Yes, but women are easy targets. I had no idea anyone else had the
talent."
"There are a number of us here in the States."
"Really?"
"We do have something of a working group. There's a long history of
our, er, cooperative." Alisia finished her pummelling orgasm and looked
at the two men with a certain anxiety.
"Why don't you go get dressed slut," said Jorge. She hurried off to do
his bidding.
"Yes, well I'm not too upset about you using my slave, but in the
future, it would be well to check for influences other than your own.
At least if you want to stay in America."
"I can agree to that. There's plenty of women available here."
"One more little thing. Watch out for other people with the Voice.
Not all of them are tolerant of strangers."
"Might have guessed, in fact I would think it was the norm." Jorge
said. Jorge started towards the door.
"We should talk about the Cabal before you go."
"Cabal? What is the 'Cabal'?"
"A group of telepaths who have banded together. We mostly try to
ensure that telepaths keep their fingers out of politics. The last
time we failed to catch someone manipulating the economic and
political arena in this country was in the '50s."
"Why should any telepath care?"
"Visibility could bring on a witch hunt. None of us want some morons
trying to mob us, or worse, ending up in a lab somewhere, being
dissected for science."
"I hadn't thought the possibility significant."
The other man laughed aloud. Alisia came back, dressed in a sexy tight
black evening gown. Her makeup had been refreshed, and she just about
leeched onto Jorge's side. He was somewhat embarrassed, being caught
sampling another man's woman like a thief.
"He wants me back, love. Don't let him take me," Alisia begged of
Jorge.
"Don't worry, I can fix her, or if you want you can just keep her,"
the stranger said.
"No, you keep her, she served her purpose." replied Jorge. She
shuddered, thinking how much of a slave she'd become.
"You think about the Cabal," he handed Jorge a card. "If you're
interested, give this number a call. If not, be warned to stay out of
trouble. We won't tolerate anyone threatening our safety."
Jorge left, peeling the slave he'd possessed from his side. She became
fearful, perhaps panicky as she was handed over to the other man. She
calmed quickly though in the man's arms. The door shut smoothly
behind him. Soon she would never want to leave the man Jorge had
spoken with. She had no Voice, and that made her no more than
property to them.
A week later he called the number.
====
Jorge tried to open the door to the hall again. No luck, it was now
locked.
He went to the window, but dozens of guards were working the grounds,
in some cases beating the bushes. He chuckled to himself, wondering if
they'd found his earlier handiwork.
Looking around, he realized the room was sealed tightly. The air vents
were far to small for even a cat to slip out, unlike nearly every
movie he'd ever seen. This didn't stymie him immediately.
He began a systematic search of the room for a tool to pry the door
open. He move the Edda look alike aside and took the bed apart. Using
a bar of metal formerly a support in the bed, he began attacking the
door.
He noticed his head was getting a bit fuzzy. When he looked around,
he realized how easily they could gas the room. There must be
microphones in here somewhere. He was not free. Too late now. It's
over.
He was sleeping.
====
Bob finished sharing his pleasure with Miki some time before.
He made a decision, that for Bob, was quite courageous. This
establishment had to be dismantled to ensure his safety. Every record
they had about him would be destroyed before he left. He wasn't going
to be a hunted animal for the rest of his life.
He developed resolve sitting there in their hiding place.
****
Give a little, get a lot. Those cards and letters keep piling up.
Thanks, especially if I've failed to return your mail.
-Blackie
Flash Gordon, when looking for fun,
Poked Dale with his little space gun.
Murmured she, "I'm not shy,
But quick, button your fly-
In comics that just isn't done!"
-c1970
--
I will ignore all requests for: reposts, e-mailing parts, ftp/gif/archive
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Path: holytoy!seunet!seunet!sunic!pipex!howland.reston.ans.net!vixen.cso.uiuc.edu!laff
From: laff@sal.cs.uiuc.edu (Joshua A Laff)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: ARCHIVE: the-book-9.Z
Message-ID: <2u0uqd$7me@vixen.cso.uiuc.edu>
Date: 19 Jun 1994 08:15:09 GMT
Reply-To: laff@sal.cs.uiuc.edu
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Organization: University of Illinois at Urbana
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NNTP-Posting-Host: sal.cs.uiuc.edu
This story is another from the archives, and is not written by me.
Requests for just about anything concerning these posts will be ignored.
See the FAQ in a.s.s.d for more information. And stop sending talk
requests. Even when I'm logged in to this posting site, I usually
have the window closed, and if I don't, it's because I'm WORKING
From: an25611@anon.penet.fi
Subject: Story: Reviewers (The Book pt 9)
Date: Tue, 6 Jul 1993 23:07:07 -0400 (EDT)
Another in the sometimes harried tale of _The Book_, a mind control
story.
Since we last left, plot and sex were fighting it out for a place in
the sun. Nothing has changed lately.
m/f, non-consensual.
All characters are strictly fictional and any resemblance to anyone
living or dead is purely coincidental.
email is welcome, however, I no longer email prior episodes out. You
can try your favorite mailserver.
Hit 'n' to skip this.
new necessity:
Copyright (c) 1993, Oogle Bird Enterprises.
All rights reserved, permission granted for a single printed copy for
personal use only. Transmission of this story in electronic form is
permitted provided no alterations are made to text, and this message
is included in its entirety.
_Reviewers_
Jorge had been a member of the Cabal for three months when he started
to see changes in himself.
At first the thought crossed his mind another Cabal member had been
meddling in his mind. He dropped the idea when he realized the
thought wouldn't have struck him if it was true.
He kept asking many questions about the Cabal. Nothing about where
they'd come from, but what they did. He got some pretty boring
answers back from his contact.
Mostly, the Cabal did nothing.
One day a summons came. The Cabal invited him, perhaps ordered him,
to attend a meeting. It would be in the Catskills in New York at a
one time hunting lodge. He was expected to attend.
He felt like a gangster.
Pine trees surrounded the lodge. It was an old building from the time
of Prohibition. Seeing all the limos and the uniformed drivers made
him feel even more as though he was at a gangster meet. He must've
been the only one to show up without limo or driver.
There were guards too. Only those who could control minds could get
in. Anyone else would be turned back.
There were only a dozen or so people present. The man he'd met in New
York was absent. A third were women. He hadn't expected any women at
all. Preconceptions about the demographics of the mind control
talented hadn't led him to believe there would be any women at all.
There was one notable man, standing out from the rest.
The man was in a gray pair of slacks and a brown sports jacket,
patched at the elbows. His eyes sunken, as though he didn't sleep,
hidden behind wire rimmed glasses, and his hair a tossled gray-black.
Cleanshaven, the fellow carried himself as though this was simply an
entertaining exercise. He spoke to no one, and there was a
conspicuous area around him no one else walked into.
Jorge got a drink, gin and tonic, and walked towards the unusual
member. He didn't make it before a thin, wispish man, with an
unidentifiable accent announced everyone was present. The meeting
would begin immediately in the next room.
====
The room was a sunken amphitheater. Seating was on carpeted tiers
with a space in the middle for speakers. The wispish guy was
standing there, waiting for everyone to settle in. Behind him was an
exit, an open door with curtains to the side.
"It's been a year since our last meeting. While there are no real
changes to announce..."
"There never is." A woman in red, holding a tall glass of something
white was the source of this interjection. The wispish fellow stared
in rebuke for a moment, then continued.
"We need to reaffirm the leadership positions. And there is one
piece of new business."
He turned towards Jorge. Everyone looked his direction. The tall Dane
felt self conscious for the first time since acquiring the talent.
The feeling was somewhat foreign to him now, yet he knew he was on
the spot.
"Mr. Dansen is a new member. Unlike most new Voices, he is curious
about us, rather than fearful, the preferred response." A light
chuckle passed through the gathered men and women.
"The Inquisitor," with this, the man nodded at the fellow in the brown
sports jacket, "requested he be invited. Any new blood we get willing
to participate in our activities is worth investigating. Please step
down here Mr. Dansen."
Jorge summoned his own reserves and stepped out where everyone could
see him. The looks he got were curious, but not interested in him.
They seemed concerned about whether he was a threat. He could sense
mind probes being aborted, it wasn't considered proper to probe
another member.
The man identified as Inquisitor also stepped down to the middle
joining the master of ceremonies and Jorge.
"Unless someone thinks we need to replace the Inquisitor...?," a
paused followed. "Fine," he lowered his voice. "Jorge, please go with
the Inquisitor. We're just curious because you've asked so many
questions. Everything will be fine. Just get along now.
"Okay, other business. Anyone want the job of High Senate Speaker?
Speak up, I've been doing this too long already..."
There was laughter as Jorge was drawn away by the Inquisitor. The
sounds of a beginning debate were murmurs of discussion, not the
heated rancor he was accustomed to from small political bodies.
Jorge found himself led out the nearby door. The curtains were drawn
behind, then the door closed. The spectacled gentleman led him to a
room with a pool table, soft red velvet chairs all around.
"Rack 'em. We may as well play as we speak. Eight ball." The man took
his jacket off, setting it carefully across one of the chairs. "I'm
Charles. I have the responsibility of policing for the Cabal."
"Am I in some kind of trouble?," asked Jorge. He looked about for
another exit, but ended up finding the rack and a cue stick. The balls
fit neatly into the rack.
"No, nothing like that. But we rarely get new members who are
interested in what goes on in the Cabal. Our real purpose is to
minimize the threat a rogue Voice may represent." He broke, balls
rolling slowly to a halt around the table.
"Rogue voice?" Jorge sank a solid, tried to line up another shot only
to have the cue ball drop.
"Some idiot who draws attention to the rest of us."
"Is this a frequent threat?"
"No, since the rogue is likely to be poorly practiced, and real
obvious about how he makes trouble. We even know there are a lot of
Voices out there we can't find, simply because they just don't have
the ambition to make the kind of waves we worry about. We don't care
about them." Charles stood, holding the cue ball as though it might
escape too.
"You worried about me though?"
"Nope. You've been at it a while from what I understand. No. In your
case, I'm recruiting."
Jorge looked at Charles, seeking deceit. He dared not probe, no
telling what could happen. He stepped back and lowered his head,
forcing his eyes to peer at his host through the visible hairs of his
eyebrows.
"You'd be recruiting to help catch anyone breaking Cabal rules?"
"You may have figured out by now there aren't exactly rules so much as
an expected behavior. Mostly a reasonable level of caution with the
mutes. There would be a very brutal war if we couldn't maintain a
tight rein on a general consensus in the Cabal. I wish there was more
I could do, but too many innocents would die."
"What do you expect me to do?"
"It depends. May I probe you?"
"I'm not fond of the idea, I'd rather you didn't."
"Oh, I want you to stop me. Do everything you can to stop me. In fact,
if you can control me, they'll make you Inquisitor. But I'm going to
have to probe you anyway, since you've met most of the leadership
now."
"Really?"
"Not because you're dangerous, but because you're so new, yet so
experienced we don't know what to make of you. You ready?"
"Okay, but I'm not happy about this..."
The onslaught began. The two men slashed probes out, battering each
other's advances aside. The spear like thrusts of one would be met by
a wall like barrier of the other. Jorge staggered under one slamming
hammer blow, only to deal out a sledge hammer stroke in return. Then
the attacks drew on images of animals wrestling with each other,
great tigers, lions, and monstrous creatures of the imagination. The
battering seemed to Jorge to last immeasurably long.
The clatter of a dropped cue stick passed quickly, nothing changed by
the event.
Soon the two were nearly kneeling, sweating from the invisible
struggle, which sapped strength with psychic blows of enormous
proportions. Neither had penetrated the other's defenses when Charles
held up a hand.
"Stop."
And with the ceased effort of their minds, Jorge collapsed in a
nearby chair. Charles remained leaning, with effort, on the edge of
the pool table.
"I can see we're well matched," came panting from Charles.
"I guess," said Jorge.
"I can't say I've come across anyone as strong as you in my life. Even
my predecessor couldn't stand toe to toe with me. God, where did you
pick up your Voice?"
"It doesn't matter, does it?" Jorge felt a certain concern, that he
safeguard his source of knowledge.
"Only a little. God gives us the Voice. We're born with it. But
something awakens it. I've always thought the cause affects the
strength. I really am interested in how you're talent awoke but you
needn't tell me."
Jorge shook his head. He remained quiet at the invitation to speak.
"I'll tell you my story though. My mother was a whore. She often
brought the johns home, since otherwise she'd have to pay for the
room. Made more money. She always referred to the johns as 'uncles'.
On occasion I wasn't quick enough to hide in my room and the johns
would hit me for being too slow. My Voice came to me when one of my
'uncles' was beating me. My emotions rode the strength of the Voice
to stop him. He died immediately," Charles paused. He slid into one of
the chairs opposite Jorge. "Heaven forgive me. Then my mother turned
me out into the night.
"It wasn't until I found the Cabal that I found a sense of purpose.
Personally, I'm disgusted we don't have a much more strict set of
rules, but open warfare between Voices could kill millions of people.
Afterwards we'd all be hunted like animals.
"What I need is good help. Ideally, I'd like to find people with the
Voice before they learn to use it. To help them develop in a more
healthy way. Realistically, we never find them before their habits are
formed, like yours.
"At least you turn your women loose quickly and don't steal using the
Voice. That crew out there," he waved a hand the direction of the
amphitheater, "have some pretty incredible vices. The woman in the
red dress has been getting even with men for years. Not one of her
toys escapes being marked forever. Every now and then I've got to
save one before she kills him. I think she's passed from sheer
vengeance into the realm of vindictiveness. I can't even mention what
the Speaker likes to do..."
"Sounds bad," said Jorge. "So?"
"Yeah," Charles nodded, "On the whole they're pretty tame compared
with anyone I have to censure permanently."
"Permanently?"
"You can lose your Voice, if we have no other way to keep you from
calling attention to us. That's my job. I'm the one, the one they call
on to do it. If I can't do it, we have assassins... but we've only done
that once while I've held the position. I fear I'm condemned to Hell
already."
"You've had people killed? Where does that leave me if I don't want to
help? Are you going to kill me too?"
"No. You'll just have to consider this a warning about drawing
attention to the talent if you're not interested in helping. I don't
want to use harsh methods, but I'm not afraid to. I can't afford to
let the run of the mill megalomaniacs get all of us killed."
"Okay, I understand." He rose, and walked a few steps, "I'd being
willing to help, I'm bored lately."
"I thought as much when you kept asking questions. I've an assignment
for you, in Chicago."
"Chicago?"
"Chicago. I'll have a packet for you before you leave today."
When he left, he was bound for the airport. Charles had even booked a
first class seat for him to the Windy City.
Chicago was a simple exercise. The ill mannered Voice was trying to
control the city council. In many other cities there would be little
doubt it was unusual. In Chicago, just about everyone assumed the fix
was happening behind closed doors. Jorge easily affected a change in
the rogue, leaving behind a quiet unassuming individual without any
unusual talents.
He was proud of himself. He had averted a power hungry idiot whose
actions could eventually lead to armed intervention. He probably
saved an untold number of lives.
Yes, the pride he'd felt as a child returned. He felt a return of
accomplishment, lost when he believed his talent was unique and
completely unrestricted. Apathy had been driven out in favor of
action.
There were obstacles he would overcome ahead. No longer a sure thing
this talent, there would be challenges for his skill to tackle. His
head rose a few inches higher was he left Chicago.
====
New Mexico was hot but dry.
Las Cruces lies at the southern tip of the San Andres Mountains, along
that part of the Rio Grande north of the Mexican border. To the
northwest Jorge had seen Elephant Butte and Caballo Reservoirs as his
plane came in. The expanses of water seemed out of place in the arid
climate.
The Voice he was to visit was reputedly involved in local politics.
The bent to control the world was the worst problem he dealt with on a
regular basis. Charles seemed genuinely pleased with his work though.
He settled into a hotel, rented a car and started off to the local
address he'd been given. The address wasn't hard to get to, just a
little north, out of town. It was a ranch, very western in appearance,
as though someone was living partly in the past.
The ranch was large. Guards at the gate tried stopping him at first,
but they agreed quickly he should go on by. They soon forgot him
completely.
The porch out front was gray brown. He climbed the steps and looked
around. The wood clumped at him as he walked about looking in the
windows. The door in the middle of the porch had a button at the side
for the bell. He ignored the bell.
Entering the wooden ranch house, he noted its appearance. Rustic
style was the main decor. Bull's horns, old saddles, retired pistols,
wagon wheels, spurs, and occasionally an antique picture of a cowboy
adorned the walls. The only carpet was a narrow and worn red strip of
clothe up the stairs.
He was met by a surprised servant in the dining room. The servant
forgot him quickly, returning to dusting the furniture. The table was
large enough for twenty or more. The dusting would keep this person
busy for some time.
Jorge went up the stairs and found the place empty. He settled into a
bedroom, sitting in a large chair by the front window. He waited. The
sun watched him through the window. He imagined the dim light in the
long winters in Denmark.
A short time later a pink convertible pulled up. A woman in stylized
western clothing, right down to the boots, stepped out. She looked
over at his car and almost danced as she hopped up to the house.
Sounds of human voices rose from downstairs. He smiled. He knew the
cleaning would still be occupying the poor servant. No, she hadn't
seen anybody. Was there really a car out front, she hadn't noticed. He
imagined the conversation ending with, what was obviously justified
concern on the modern cowgirl's face.
Resounding clopping came from the stairs. The boots thudded along in
the hallway as she walked through rooms on the second floor. She
stepped through the door, seeing Jorge for the first time. His
slacks, t-shirt and loafers must have seemed out of place, she was
staring.
"Just how did you get in here?"
"I'm waiting for someone. You wouldn't know Pat Morick, would you?"
"I'm Pat Morick, but you better have one hell of a good reason for
being here buster, or you're in a lot of trouble."
"Oh my," he hadn't expected the Voice to be a woman. On reflection
she could prove very entertaining. Her figure more visible here than
through the window.
She wore heavy jeans, a western yoke shirt with a string tie serving
to accent her chest's curves. The boots were up her calves three
quarters of the way to her knees. The hips a bit wide, but seemed to
match the bone structure she carried. The shoulders were wide too,
holding the shirt out almost square without padding.
Her face was pink, with dimpled cheeks, a pug nose, wide lips and
alert angry eyes. Sun bleached hair trimmed to the shoulders, she
wore it held back by a pair of clips on either side. Her hands were
clenched into little fists, braced atop her hips.
"You've been naughty, Pat. The Cabal doesn't like political
entanglements. It gets the wrong kind of attention."
He smiled at her and lashed a mind probe forward, symbols of control
to implant in her brain.
She gasped. Her body flung back against the wall as though he'd struck
her, hands to the side to support her stance. It was only a snap
muscle reaction causing her backwards motion, physical force from him
causing none of her movement.
She lowered her head and concentrated a stare on him. His initial
probe failed to gain entry. Now he slapped aside a counter thrust.
She needled with jabs at his barriers.
To prevent outside interference, he got up, walked to the door and
closed it. It came as no surprise to him he could do this while they
dueled. Yet she seemed unable to deal with physical movement while
engaged in the mind battle. He sought about for any distraction to
cause her attack to slow down. He needed to resume his own.
She furiously surged energy waves of thought at him. He could make
out crude control symbols in her attack, but couldn't do much more
than stop them. Her brain was well protected by her own frantic
efforts.
Charles was the only Voice he'd met so far with this kind of strength.
An idea crept up as his attacks against her mind failed again. Time
stretched out. She managed to stand again, trying to strike him with
her fists.
While the main bout was thrashing in their minds, he grabbed hold of
her slender wrists. They were strong, but her skin soft to the touch.
He dragged her bodily to the bed. She barely had enough control over
her actions to put up a resistance. It was weak resistance, but
resistance none the less.
"Get off me asshole!" she screamed. "Keep your filthy hands off me!"
"You can submit and make this unnecessary," he snarled back. "I don't
need you for sex, but I'll use any weapon to control you right now."
Clawing his face kept him away from her shirt for a moment. He was
able with one hand to pin her arms above her head. With the other he
drew her face to him as he forcefully kissed her mouth. She bit him,
drawing a little blood.
"Bitch!" he snapped.
His anger rose within. But also some compassion. He didn't like doing
it this way, but to control her mind he needed somehow to distract
her. He wouldn't fail, causing Charles to use an assassin, he simply
would not.
Symbols for sexual pleasure were a simple matter. Remembering he
didn't plant them in the brain most of the time, he began adding
surging heat to her loins. He forced the tickling sensation of lust
through her chest, and successfully drove visual desire into her
eyes symbols.
She felt the betrayal of her body. The pleasure overcoming her painful
physical resistance. Separation of mind and body, a step aside, as
though a broken network was trying to reconnect itself. She still
controlled her actions, but no longer was her sense of feel her own.
"Okay motherfucker, you want to screw? We'll screw. But you won't like
it much once I've got you!" a wildcat snarl verbally snapped at him.
She began to trying to bite him, the battle of mental energies
continuing. The rape of her body was only a secondary front to the
rape of her will he was trying to commit.
Kissing her became a battle itself. Her tongue tried to bruise his,
teeth gnashing at any penetration he made to her mouth. She'd
converted her own desires to acts of violent arousal, a severe counter
rape of him. Although giving in to the sexual aspect of the combat,
she was determined to fight for dominance in the act of sex as well.
He pulled away her shirt, tearing it into long strips of clothe as he
attacked her. Her breasts, still strapped into the bra she wore,
stretched the fabric remaining, nipples aroused to hard nodules. Her
hands, now free, began to tear away his t-shirt.
Boots clattered to the floor behind him. Her humping body lunged
against his groin, whether to injure or excite he couldn't tell. He
fumbled with her snaps and zipper at her waist. She tried to twist
their bodies to attain superior position on top. He used the strength
in his upper torso throwing her back again.
He stripped away the pants she wore, exposing slender curves, muscled
from exercise. He now had a view of pale, formerly concealed skin.
Her panties had come off with the pants, exposing a polygon shape of
curly hair at her pubic region. Her hips still seeming wide, were
rolling lightly with excitement.
The final removal of her bra revealed a pair of firm white knockers,
tipped with small, sharp nipples. The nipples were erect from the
exertion of wrestling against him.
She clawed at his back to pull him against her. Her teeth plunged
into his shoulder as her excitement grew more evident. He slapped her
face for the brutal biting. But the bright red palm mark seemed only
to excite her more. Jorge was puzzled by this, but the psychic battle
was still lashing away and he couldn't afford to wonder much.
She believed he'd lose control using physical force. She was
accustomed to being vicious and brutal. He, she believed, was not.
This could give her the edge she needed, if she could draw the
violence out of him.
She whimpered with the next blow he delivered. Finding her hands
pinned again, she tried squirming around to get out from underneath,
only to find his free fingers were twisting her nipples. The heat this
sent through her body elicited a deep moan of pleasure.
Her body yielded in pleasure to him. He struggled to avoid the
temptation to give in to the brutality she encouraged. She continued
to claw him, whenever she could get a hand free.
"yesss!" she whispered, arousal reaching her voice. The violence was
remarkably bringing her lust to a boil. She seemed to enjoy being
combative, thriving on the thrill, the power, the struggle.
The mental violation was moving slowly as well. His successful probes
were surface in nature, only now gaining control over the helpless
body beneath him. She remained in control over her mind behind the
body, but physical resistance was ebbing completely.
Her movements became more supple. The eyes she focused on him hazed
with lust. He could feel heat rising within her. A hint of
humiliation rose inside her, losing her control of her now helpless
body.
She was panting and gasping for breath, both excited and frantic. The
adrenaline rush, coming from both fear and lust, gave her a boost.
Her legs opened to him now. The pink wet opening exposed for his use.
His own cock was still somewhat limp, but he could feel it hardening
as he felt her gyrations beneath him. He no longer needed to hold her
arms pinned. And her thin, almost bony, fingers began massaging the
trunk of his prick.
He could still hear her mind voice ordering him off her body, but her
mouth, swollen from passionate and lust driven kisses, widened into a
smile.
"Yes," he made her say, "Yes I want you. I want to be your sex toy."
He could feel a deepening sense of humiliation seep through her inner
mind, overcoming barriers remaining. He plunged into her, feeling the
moist tissue engulf his prick as her eyes rolled closed and he forced
moans from her throat. As he reached the depths of her vagina, another
phallic thought probe breached her mind. She was now his, only the
tiniest vestige of resistance remaining.
The power he had over her was strong, an aphrodesiac of great
proportion. He pummeled against her groin, watching her face contort
with unexpected pleasure.
"Yes! Yes! YES!" her mouth cried.
He no longer had to actively control her body to elicit response. She
joined willingly in the act now. Knowing only slightly it was his will
she served.
She screamed, physical orgasm penetrating to where he'd planted his
controls. Her body was completely clenched, red tipped fingers tightly
fisted against her eyes and mouth. She was almost totally overcome
inside.
With his cock still wet from her, he rolled her over, making her
kneel. Determined to overcome that last holdout at the back of her
now little mind, he forced his entry into her ass. She squealed in
pain. His dominance needed a further step to strip her of her last
hold on herself.
"NO! You'll hurt me!," she cried out. Her last little iota of control
rose up, trying once more to batter back his ownership of her body.
"You deserve to be hurt, remember? You wanted me to hurt you just a
minute ago. It's what you want."
"Yes. Yes I want it," he forced her to say. "Please, use me again!"
Again the humiliation rose within and he fostered it with reinforcing
symbols inside her. The deeply hidden nugget of self she'd withheld
cracked. She cried on the bed underneath him, the last holdout allowed
a moment to show defeat. He pressed his prick deeper into her nether
hole.
He owned her soul now too. He held her mind cradled in the bindings
his manipulation had created within her.
He began to move in and out, forcing her body to feel pleasure from
being used. He let her come again, screaming with joy, before he
allowed his own heat to rise. He owned her completely now. There was
no last reserve.
With a sudden plunge, his seed entered her ass. She seemed lost in
exhaustion when he finally grunted out his orgasm. It was a good
release. A great way to end the brutal battle.
He started to change her, engineering a new personality.
====
Jorge found a phone and made a call.
"You got the one in New Mexico?" came the familiar voice.
"Yes Charles. I wish you'd tell me in the future what gender the
Voice is."
"Come now Jorge, where's the fun in that?"
"She's controlled by me now. She's almost as strong as you or I. We
can probably use her in our duties."
"Really?"
"Really. I had to take her. She wouldn't submit willingly, and now
she's totally available for our purposes."
"I've seen her picture. Have you...?"
"Yes, and I will again, but you won't."
"Now Jorge, you know I don't force my partners. God forbid. Not even
using the Voice. I even find it a little disturbing when you do."
There was a pause. "Your next assignment is in Texas. Pretty close to
where you are now, a little south."
"Oh yeah?"
"El Paso..."
====
A foul taste in his mouth woke him up.
Bob looked around the room he'd confiscated for concealment. The room
was a partial shambles. It appeared a construction crew at work wasn't
finished and left furniture in place as they fumbled about.
Among a handful of other objects there was the bed he was sharing
with the naked girl at his side. She was smiling with the innocence
of one whose problems would be solved for her.
He traced a finger along her pert breast, allowing himself to rub
the nipple with the palm of his hand. She started to smile, stretching
and exposing her other breast to his perusal. She blinked open her
eyes, inviting him to use her again by spreading her arms wide.
He was slightly disgusted. Partly with himself, for allowing himself
to take her, mostly because of the situation. It would have been
great fun if he were less harried by fear. But then, maybe he'd take
her again now.
Miki seemed to be thriving on the threat of capture. She writhed
beneath the hands as they milked her nipples. Her head was moving in
rhythm, chin jutting out, as he worked a pattern of manipulation into
the action.
He moved so his hips were above her head. Tilting her face all the way
back, he could enter her mouth. With her neck stretched out, he had an
easy entry deep inside past her tongue. The twitching tongue in her
mouth was caressing the top of his prick as he worked in and out of
her.
With his balls bouncing against her nose and eyes, the sense of being
deep in her throat was impressive. He could see her hips bucking as he
pushed in past her lips. Her hand worked into the folds of her soaking
wet flesh.
As she sucked at him, he could feel familiar heat growing in him. The
surge was coming, moving beyond stopping now. She swallowed, and
swallowed again as a second, lighter surge pulsed through his cock.
He pulled out of her mouth. She fingered herself, unaware she used to
hate the idea of masturbating. A moan came from the puffy red lips,
and her tongue licked, putting pressure against herself. He blocked
her from coming though, so she became more frantic in her attempts at
self fulfillment.
Using his talent on himself, he sent arousal signals through his own
prick. A second hard on came very quickly. She seemed genuinely
surprised, perhaps not knowing how much control was possible.
Lifting her tight legs over his shoulders he teased at making entry to
her hungry pussy.
"Oh please, I want you in me. I need it now."
"You say the nicest things. How about telling me how good I am?"
"You're the best. No one's ever been better. I love your prick inside
my cunt. Can't you tell?"
He chortled. It was unnecessary to force her to praise him, but power
was so satisfying. And underneath the layer of controls he'd placed
she felt a thrill submitting herself to him.
The enlarged prick slipped smoothly into her soaking wet cunt. The fit
wasn't tight, but the velvet smoothness invigorated him. He worked
his way in and out. While he did, she thrashed about, struggling for
release. He pulled the nervous system stops out of the way, allowing
her to pump the sexual energy throughout her body.
Her orgasm was strong, but she muffled the screech trying to come out.
Energy sapped from her body, she began to go limp. He pumped in a
last time, using the symbols to draw forth a spurt of his semen within
her. It wasn't the best, but still, it was a good release, a jump
start orgasm for the morning.
Pulling out, he sat up at the edge of the bed. He stared off into
space for a few minutes. The woman behind him began to snore again. He
grinned thinking how exhausted he left her.
He stank.
There was a bathroom. Trying the door, it opened. The plumbing
appeared to be complete, so he tried the water. It was working well
enough so he started the shower.
Clearing away some of the junk by the bathroom door kept him busy
while the water warmed up. Rummaging about turned up a few clean
towels. A well used hunk of soap shortly drew attention to itself as
well.
The warm water brought feeling back to his skin, muscles relaxed
from the cramps developed in the uncomfortable strange bed. Rivulets of
water tickled his senses, the dream quality of flowing water allowed
him escape for the moment.
He imagined escaping with the water through the drain.
====
The helicopter rose in the bright morning light. The four story
building below shrank rapidly.
He couldn't take any chances. The spark remained on the loose. It
wasn't clear how the spark had gotten loose, but the assumption had
to be made; there was a flaw in the mind shields. A new development,
and a fearful one.
The new wild spark was more dangerous than the visitors with their
guns yesterday. This threat allowed no counter action if he remained
here. Thadeous felt forced to flee.
He left Jones to fend for himself. The man knew an awful lot about
the operation. Yet someone with both authority and initiative had to
be left in control until the spark was found.
Having a spark break in was frightening too. Something was wrong, but
the records here were limited to discovering, catching and studying
the sparks. None of the Institute's other activities would be
unveiled.
He spent the night worrying. The helicopter too late, the spark might
slip into his room at any moment. Yet nothing had happened, and the
flight was underway.
He would move the operation to the Colorado facility. If the spark
were caught, operations could resume as before. He wasn't counting on
this possibility.
How would he tell Jezabel?
====
"Mr. Jorge Dansen."
Cobwebs parted from his eyes to display a man in an immaculately
pressed suit. The sounds hadn't yet sunk in, his ears uncertain he'd
actually heard his surname. He couldn't turn his head for some reason.
"Jorge? Ah, we are awake now aren't we."
"wherindafugami?"
"Hm, Oh, where are you? At the Institute of course. You present us
with a most unusual problem. We've never had a spark break in before.
They all seem to want to break out. Can you imagine their gall, trying
to leave us?"
"waddafugyawant?"
"Oh my. Hopefully your eloquence will pick up once the gas wears off
a bit more. Your woman, the reporter, " Jones paused a moment, "she's
become amorously attached to one of our inmates. An unexpected
pleasure for us. The red head she likes is one of my boss's current
favorites, so maybe she'll get an interview after all. Shame it'll
never make the evening news though."
"'leven 'clock, different from ev'ning news."
"No matter, she won't be leaving us any time soon. All she wants to do
is screw Heather. I watched them for a while myself. She's fun to
watch by the way."
"allyoudo?, watch? cantchagetitup?"
The angry glare was piercing. Jones walked out of view. Jorge now
realized he was tied down tightly. Very tightly. Trying his talent
resulted in serious pounding pains at the back of his skull. Not that
it mattered, the man from the Institute wore a device behind his ear,
easily identified in this place as a mind shield.
Jones came back after a mumble voiced discussion.
"Where is Bob?"
"whawho?"
"Come now, you can't convince me your break in wasn't associated with
his attempted break out. You two must be working together somehow.
Where is Robert Lawrence?"
"whoinhellis Robert Lawrence?"
"You aren't helping yourself any," Jones waved to someone out of
sight, "Take him to debriefing."
The sound of hard leather on tiled floor, clack, clack, clack...
"Oh Jorge," Jones paused.
"whaddafugyawantnow?"
"My. I arranged to sample your woman later, of course, I'll probably
be far less subtle than you and cause her some injuries. You sure you
don't want to tell me something before then?"
"gofugyermudder, icangetanudderone."
"If that's how you feel about it," he waved again.
Jorge felt a motion and realized for the first time, he was on some
kind of hospital gurney. He tried to move, but was frustrated by
strong straps. There was one across his forehead. No wonder his head
couldn't move.
The wheels clicked as they moved across tiles on the floor beneath.
The rhythmic sound felt like being beaten.
What was debriefing?
====
Bob reached out.
A barrier at the exterior of the building blocked him. He had to poke
and prod around shields for a bit to find a hole. Somehow they seemed
to be unable to perceive where overlapping shields didn't actually
meet. Better yet, someone forgot to protect the floors below.
An exit turned up for the mind probe. It amused him the plumbing
probably took a similar route after all.
He stood in the running water, and reached a long thin needle of
thought towards Bambi. It was a difficult strain. Finding her mind
engaged in leisure, he ignored what she was doing and planted a
suggestion. No, a series of suggestions.
He wasn't sure he could do it, but casting about from her mind he
found a dozen mind shields around the house. Carefully he insinuated
controls around the odd shapes of the shields, compelling the owners
to new tasks.
While he could still manage it, he found Mary and issued some
instructions to her as well. The Institute had only one man watching
her.
With strain, he pushed the needle of thought to Fran, giving her duty
at the bank. The Institute, probably acting on profile information,
left her unwatched. If he was free, they probably reasoned he would
return home or to Mary. Not the dozen or so housewives he might have
used.
He sucked in air. The water had gotten cold.
He shivered as he dried himself.
====
Jones walked into Diane's new room, adjacent to Heather's.
It was the usual Institute arrangement, a queen sized bed, a dresser,
a lounge chair, some bookshelves with an assorted reading collection.
There was a tightly closed window, but no bars.
Jones smiled, subjects in these rooms never needed bars. Conditioned
to remain, exceptions whose unnatural lust for the coven leader kept
them passive, awaiting commands.
He was disgusted. What gave these animals the right to have this
power? He should be the one, not them. He would find a way in time.
Even Thadeous would bow before him, worship at his feet! For now
though, he could bide his time.
As long as he found Bob, the little creep. Thadeous might separate
him from his hide if the spark escaped. He would not tolerate Bob's
continued freedom. Anyone failing in the duty to find Bob would suffer
the most sever sanctions.
He'd been an Institute man for almost fifteen years now. He knew the
woman who sat before him was a threat only until Heather had had her.
She was harmless now. Diane was compliant to his every wish now,
Heather saw to that.
Her poise was stoic. Not defiant, but stern, committed to servitude,
yet remaining aloof. The lounge chair held her well, looking deep and
comfortable.
"Bob, Robert Lawrence," he said.
"Pleased to meet you Bob." His eyes lit at this response.
"You mean you never heard of Bob?"
"Should I know you?"
"Not me, you twit, Robert Lawrence."
"Oh, I thought you meant you were Mr. Lawrence."
He groaned. Damn it, the spark may have told the truth.
"Why did you come to the Institute, Miss Towers?"
"I got a hot tip, said you were performing brain experiments. I guess
the guy on the phone was right. He works here somewhere."
This little revelation frightened him. Then he remembered the lab
techs had been isolated. Probably the one that freed Bob called her.
Thadeous was right, isolating all the potentially tainted techs was
necessary.
"Yes, well you'll never leave here again, I assure you."
"I wouldn't leave Heather. She needs me."
He grinned. Heather had turned her out, like many of her coven
members before, to work the streets for Heather's comfort. Only
Heather had no idea the harlots couldn't get paid for their service
here.
"She'll be here as for as long as you will."
"Good, I don't want to be without her."
"Well, right now you'll take care of me. And we're going to have some
fun, aren't we?" He unstrapped his belt.
"You paid for it, er, if you're not Bob, who are you?"
"Just call me 'Master'."
"Yes Master."
There was no pleasure in it for her, but Jones didn't care. She was
doing this for Heather anyway. She'd be pleased when Heather told her
how good she'd been.
Heather wouldn't do that, he decided. He'd find a way to convince
Heather she hadn't been paid.
====
Bambi was in the midst of playful activities. She vaguely knew in the
back of her mind Bob modified the women to entertain each other in
his absence. She couldn't change the controls he'd placed. It seemed
right somehow to perform the duties he'd laid out for them.
The sense of belonging grew, each day the fellowship she had with the
other women was stronger. She was reflecting on this sense, and the
sense of being at home. A good inner feeling of security. They were a
family now.
Abruptly her eyes opened, {I'm here} she projected.
{Have fun, see you later, don't hurt them!}
{Hurt them!? They're going to hurt me! Bob?} but he was gone again.
Bob left a message, somewhere beneath her thoughts, she knew. She
calmed herself, if he wanted her to know now, she'd know now. The
message could wait.
Just as the controls were keeping the women together for Bob, the
controls would bring the message to the surface when it was time. She
wouldn't find it if she tried.
Bob's instructions found her later.
====
Bob came out of the bathroom, both exhausted and refreshed. At least
the stink was gone, down the drain with the water.
Miki had a grey cat on her lap and was stroking the fur to the sound
of deep throated purring. He wondered only briefly where the feline
critter had come from.
"Get that thing out of here," he said.
"Aw it's just a little kitty."
"The damn things give me the creeps. Stupid animals anyway. How'd it
get in here anyway?"
The cat scooted away on it's own as he approached anyway. No telling
where it went, much less where it came from.
"You might want a shower."
"I can try, how long do you think we're safe here?"
"I'll worry about that, you've decided to let me, remember?"
"Okay, back in a few."
And she bounced off to the shower. A moment later a shriek came back.
The water probably hadn't warmed up yet. He grinned. She should've
tested the temperature before getting in, he thought.
Gathering himself in, he began to seek out the guards, the lab people,
anyone with a mind shield on. Soon, he'd find someone to suit his
purposes.
====
Peters was walking down the hall.
It had been another satisfying morning, observing a spark beat the
pleasure out of one of his coven. Peters knew if he could find a
method for anyone to do the same, he'd be given any woman he wanted.
He'd be able to do the beating himself. He wouldn't have to just sit
and watch.
Somewhere in this place was a clue to how to tap the energy these
sparks used. Somehow he would find it. Soon. Soon he would be in
control of the women he wanted, and they would be happy to serve him.
He was walking towards Heather's room, the path an accident, but the
clue he sought wouldn't be there either...
====
Jorge felt the needle stab his arm. The point was hollow, he knew.
Oddly enough, he knew these men were bored. He was another spark to
examine and question.
"It's okay, just a little thiopental. Can you count backwards from one
hundred?"
He just stared at the man in the white lab coat. Then he laughed at
him. The guy shrugged and started talking about the drug and how it
would affect him and the interesting time they would have together
and there was a clock on the wall and he realized he'd begun to talk
too and he couldn't stop and the ceiling was very odd...
====
The first couple guards weren't much trouble. They tipped him off to
the monitoring center. The monitoring center took him a short time
since they were relying on the wall shields to protect them.
They'd made the same mistake there as with the exterior walls. Any
bank officer could tell them what they'd forgotten. The number of
bank robberies from tunneling under the walls led to well reinforced
foundations. After all, the defense was only as strong as its weakest
link.
He was fascinated for a few minutes by the number of inmates they
monitored. Most of them weren't 'sparks' though. Most inmates kept
being referred to as coven members. He wondered about that.
He began snatching up every guard he could find. Just in case his take
over was interrupted he had them take off their mind shields, remove
the battery, replace the little devices behind the ear and forget
them.
Then he found a most interesting development. There was a man in the
interrogation room. He began to take over the techs, but the
discussion was most fascinating. He had to meet this man. The idea
there might be help available appealed to him.
He continued to concentrate on taking over the entire Institute.
====
Men on duty as guards come in many varieties. The Institute had
ensured loyalty by some reprogramming. A mild brainwashing technique
since completely replaced by the use of an examination in the
interesting room Bob visited early on.
It had a certain effect on the initiative of the subjects however.
====
Jenkins had been walking the halls much of the morning when he stepped
into the Mens room. He somehow failed to notice the device that
dropped from behind his ear.
He had been programmed to forget about it after all.
====
Dobson had been drinking his coffee when his keys fell to the floor.
When he rose, the itch behind his ear was gone. It felt much better
not to worry about whatever had been bothering his ear.
====
Post turned suddenly when he heard a sound on the grounds. It was
another guard, but a crow would later collect a new shiny thing for
its nest. The errant mind shield wasn't even noticed by Post at all.
====
The only reason the other guards didn't notice; they were all
slipping under the control of the escaped spark.
Bob was pleased at the speed with which the Institute was falling.
****
Hope you're enjoying yourselves.
-Blackie
"As each unwilling portal yields him way,
Through little vents and crannies of the place,
The wind wars with his torch to make him stay,
And blows the smoke of it into his face,
Extinguishing his conduct in this case;
But his hot heart, which fond desire doth scorch,
Puff forth another wind that fires the torch;"
-From _The Rape of Lucrece_, William Shakespeare
--
I will ignore all requests for: reposts, e-mailing parts, ftp/gif/archive
sites, and subscription requests. These stories get deleted immediately after
they are posted. For more info on the ARCHIVE postings, read the FAQ posted
bi-monthly to a.s.s.d. And don't send me chain mail- I'll notify your sysadmin.
Path: holytoy!seunet!seunet!sunic!EU.net!howland.reston.ans.net!vixen.cso.uiuc.edu!laff
From: laff@sal.cs.uiuc.edu (Joshua A Laff)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: ARCHIVE: the-book-10.Z
Message-ID: <2trm2l$k90@vixen.cso.uiuc.edu>
Date: 17 Jun 1994 08:15:17 GMT
Reply-To: laff@sal.cs.uiuc.edu
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Organization: University of Illinois at Urbana
Lines: 1137
NNTP-Posting-Host: sal.cs.uiuc.edu
This story is another from the archives, and is not written by me.
Requests for just about anything concerning these posts will be ignored.
See the FAQ in a.s.s.d for more information. And stop sending talk
requests. Even when I'm logged in to this posting site, I usually
have the window closed, and if I don't, it's because I'm WORKING
From: an21262@anon.penet.fi (Blackie)
Subject: Story: _Out of Print_ (the Book pt 10)
Another in the sometimes harried tale of _The Book_, a mind control
story. Yeah, here I am having fun again, so what?
m/f, non-consensual, serious explicit dominance sex in second half...
All characters are strictly fictional, any resemblance to anyone
living or dead is purely coincidental. Shame ain't it.
email is welcome, however, I no longer email prior episodes out. You
can try your favorite mailserver. 'laff@sal.cs.uiuc.edu' contains the
entire mishmash to this point. Any of a number of other mail servers
requested permission to archive it as well and have copies, honest.
Hit 'n' to skip this.
new necessity:
Copyright (c) 1993, Oogle Bird Enterprises.
All rights reserved, permission granted for a single printed copy for
personal use only. Transmission of this story in electronic form is
permitted provided no alterations are made to text, and this message
is included in its entirety.
_Out of Print_
Something odd was happening. Jorge noticed the noises in the room had
stopped.
He wondered if thiopental deadened normal senses. They said the
effect was different on everyone. The white cloaked man asked him to
count backwards, so he had laughed. Laughing failed to stop the drug
from working however.
Some questions he ignored at first. But then he started telling them
about the caves in Denmark and then Edda. They seemed very interested
in anything about the symbols. They never heard of them before. And
when he mentioned the Cabal, they looked very startled.
One of the men started mumbling something about subjects lying while
under the drug before. They were very excited though.
It seemed hours passed before his head began to clear a little and he
started getting very drowsy.
Then quiet settled over the room.
A strap over his forehead came undone. He tried to crane his neck,
but some kind of cap was being removed from his hair. It pulled at
him, making it feel as though the roots were being yanked out.
Looking from side to side, he was able to make out one man burning a
bunch of tapes in a trash can.
His arms came free. The straps holding his legs and ankles went next.
One man was politely offering him a hand to get up. His head spun a
bit as he sat. The room, a sterile space, was littered with various
bits of equipment normally found in a doctor's office. A pair of
oxygen tanks stood nearby, a desk, a set of chairs, and various
assorted paraphenalia.
The room contained only three men besides himself. They were all
busy, making themselves ingratiating. The one burning the tapes was
smiling and nodding at him. One offered tylenol for the headache he
must now have. The third watched at the door, keeping an eye out
for someone.
Their sudden change in behavior seemed very odd. They even still had
mind shields on. He tried to probe all three without success.
A cardboard box on the floor contained his clothing and belongings. He
poked through it, looking for a most important article, his watch.
Finding it, he turned it over. The medallion was still attached. The
foolish interrogators never checked.
He put in on, and doing so, felt vastly refreshed.
Then he spotted a phone on the desk. He managed, with some help from
a former captor, to stumble over to it. Lifting the handset, he tried
dialing only to get a horrible tone for the effort.
The man beside him picked up the phone, held down the switch hook for
a few moments, then dialed '9'. He handed the phone back with the
steady hum Jorge was accustom to. Jorge dialed again.
"You've reached the offices of Schmitz, Martin, and Lear. May I help
you?" came a feminine voice.
Jorge smiled for the first time since the gas put him in dreamland. He
recalled how nicely the owner of that voice screamed in the sack.
"I'd like to speak with Mr. Lear, Cindy."
====
Leisure activity at an end, Jones stepped into the hall. The very
first man he saw was a guard.
Jones learned his craft years before. Every stitch out of place
triggered some small part of his paranoid senses. Something was
wrong. He knew it but couldn't find the cause.
Reaching into his pocket, he removed a second mind shield. One he'd
taken from the lab techs who could have handled Bob on the gurney. He
examined the hearing aid like device in his palm and looked down the
hall at the receding backside of the guard.
The man's ears were both visible.
There was no mind shield. He suppressed his panic, and stepped back
into the room with Diane. Grabbing her, he led her into Heather's
room. He picked up one of the local censure shields, a skull cap like
device to place over a telepath's head, intended to suppress the
talent.
Seeing one man with his mind shield still in place, Jones stopped him
along the way. He brought the man along. If he could get anyone out
who was capable of helping the Institute rebuild elsewhere, it would
prove useful.
Peters didn't know what was going on. But Jones was the number two man
at the Institute. Peters wasn't going to lose his status by following
the man's orders. He quickly complied with the directions he was
given.
He led the little troop towards the river side exit. There were
speedboats there. The loose spark couldn't control everyone. If only
there was time enough left...
====
Sunlight filled the room. Like a glass full of sparkling clear water,
the sun washed to every corner, flooded the long wooden shelves,
illuminating the oak desk.
Bob stood at the window. He tried to imagine mowing the yard before
him. The number of tight corners, hedges, trees and other obstacles
must make the gardeners crazy, he decided. A numbing escape into
physical labor only goes so far before it becomes annoying.
Birds seemed to like the greenery. He tried to touch one of the
flight borne creatures with a mind probe, but had forgotten the shield
at the outer walls of the building. Some other time perhaps.
Jorge was led in by two of the men who interrogated him. He was back
in his own things. It was much more comfortable than a blue hospital
gown. The mess here would be settled soon. The Cabal was on the way.
Bob didn't turn as he spoke.
"The records of your interrogation have been destroyed, and the goons
can't remember a thing," he said, watching a cardinal soar on bright
red wings.
"Who are you?"
"Me? I'm Bob. You are Jorge."
"Oho! You must be the escaped Robert Lawrence that man was; wait a
minute!" Jorge walked over to look out the window too. The clouds were
puffing along, accenting a beautiful blue sky.
"Hmm," Bob faced towards the freed telepath. "what?"
"Where's the guy who questioned me about you? He was in charge of
this place."
"What did he look like?'
"Perfect suit, black hair, manicured, muscular, short nose. About 42,
give or take a few years. The kind you see as the heavy CIA type in
flicks."
"That should be Jones. Dirk Jones is how he introduced himself to me."
"Yeah, if you say so. But he was in charge, what'd you do with him?"
"No, he wasn't. Some guy named Thadeous was. Neither of them are still
here. Sorry, I haven't found your reporter friend yet either. You do
know, by the way, how bad an idea it would be if she actually aired
this story?"
"She's not going to tell anyone. You know that."
"And I expect your gang of thugs at any minute."
"Huh?"
"This Cabal, or whatever."
"You got that? Say, how did you get past those mind shields?"
"They're shaped funny, like donuts. I didn't know until they tried to
experiment on me with some kind of control machine. Your people will
probably find it soon enough. Like donuts, there's this hole in the
middle. If I had to guess, they probably transmit some kind of energy
through an antennae. Most antennas have some dead spots. You just
need to know where."
"Really? Now I know, so lots of others will know too. You want, the
Cabal would welcome you as a member."
"No thanks. Until Thadeous and Jones are caught though, I'd like to
stay in touch with your people."
"I'll see what I can arrange. The Cabal won't have any trouble with
that."
"Tell me a little about them. Who the hell is the Cabal?"
"What's to tell? It's an international organization, mostly based in
the States because of the effort the Cabal put in moving here to
escape persecution in Europe. The name is new by a few centuries. It
was borrowed from a group in England under one of the kings named
Charles. I don't know enough history to know what it was called
before that.
"Let's see, the Cabal has been under siege a few times before. None
with secretly organized opposition though. This Institute scares the
leadership a whole hell of a lot."
"I can imagine..."
"No you can't, it's never happened like this before. The Cabal has
suffered from a few outside threats, but no one immune to the Voice.
Internally, we have occasional problems, but those we can handle."
"How about those internal problems. Why would anyone be stupid
enough to cause trouble when a whole bunch of telepaths would be all
over them in a hurry?"
"No one in their right mind would. But anyone with the Voice has a
substantially higher risk of insanity. If you've even a tenuous grip
on reality, follow the 'rules', no one in the Cabal gives a fuck.
"In essence, if you call attention to anyone with Voice, mostly
yourself, we try to convince you to ease back. We don't want any
witch hunts.
"The Cabal doesn't much care what someone does with the Voice.
Mostly. Stay away from power politics, it's too easy to spot the
personality changes the highly visible mutes go through your voice
influences them.
"There are also strict rules against violence, murdering mutes even
by proxy, or even just maiming them. Its another thing that attracts
too much attention. If you get enough mutes involved, they may figure
out what happened, and then... you can guess.
"This mess here for instance. Exactly the sort of thing the Institute
was doing. I was out here looking for them. I've only been hanging
out in the area a year, but everyone I work with think I've been here
for five. The planted familiarity sometimes can get additional leads.
The Institute's influence hit about two to three years ago, but we've
been unable to track them down."
"Yeah," said Bob, "I can see why a group like the Cabal would form.
But I don't like the idea of making too close an association."
"Embarrassed about your own set of playmates? The Cabal really
doesn't care about that. They're too worried about Voices that act
genuinely loco. Hell, they're much worse than you, I'm sure."
"That reminds me. They should be here any minute now. So what
will you do with all the looney people the Institute has locked up
here?"
"I'm not sure. It's against the rules to control other members and
people with the Voice. We save it for special situations requiring
censure. Some of these people have the Voice. They may simply need a
little adjustment to return to more normal lives."
"Normal? You've got to be kidding."
"If we have to, we can make them mute again. They'll have a chance
again, as soon as a little adjustment is made. A team will come in,
remove the 'God' syndrome and fix the worst. I doubt we'll need to
do much worse. As long as they're no longer a danger to the rest of
us."
"I hope so," said Bob
"Just the way I feel."
Bob closed his eyes, sensing an additional presence. He didn't need to
root around the room though to find it. The familiar symbols almost
cried out to be found.
"Can I see your watch?"
"Huh? What for?"
"I just want to see the source of the symbols I keep..., they're at
your wrist."
"You see the symbols?!"
"I read a book. You read a cave wall. I think you and I may be unique.
Most of the 'sparks' here are freaks of nature, finding their talent
by one freak accident or another. You and I seem to have woken it by
seeing the symbols."
Reluctantly, Jorge removed the watch. He pulled the concealed
medallion from it's hiding place. Bob turned it in his hands, basking
in a glow of definitions, descriptions and experiences from the red
coin like object. He handed it back after a moment.
"Very interesting, where'd you find that?"
"In a locket from the cave. I learned about the symbols through it,
more so than the scrawls in the cave."
"An unusual keepsake. Are there more?"
"I've never seen another one, you?"
"Oh no," Bob lied, "I'd know if one of those had passed under my eyes."
They both peered out the window to the brightly light lawn. Silence
fell over them, a quiet born of the strange situation. Trouble shooter
rescued by amateur, waiting for the rest of the cavalry.
Jorge tried to think of ways to reach out to the younger man. He
wanted to know more about the book, yet somehow knew the subject had
been closed. Hands in his pockets, he looked at the tall man,
wondering what to say.
"What will you do once we take over this mess?"
"I'm going to hide for a while, some place with lots of people."
Jorge grinned, "and probably lots of attractive women too."
"Yeah," Bob grinned back, "as many as I can find. I've got this habit,
see..."
====
As Fran drove them away he looked back at the Institute.
Miki was acting snippish, jealous of Fran and the deep kiss from Bob
when he greeted her. Bob deliberately made Miki watch as he gave Fran
a violent orgasm in the car. Miki's embarrassment was turning into a
deep humiliation, and he could sense deep down she liked the
treatment.
He watched the manicured lawn and the frightening building vanished
from sight. As they passed through the gates, his imprisonment passed
away into a memory.
Too bad he couldn't make the Institute's organization vanish as easily.
====
>From the balcony, it seemed the view went forever. She could make out
Denver in the distance. It was hazy, slightly marring the rest of the
countryside.
Diane was confused. Heather was very important to her, but why were
they here? She wanted to go home, if only to get a change of clothes.
The people they traveled with were in such a rush. Hurry to the
plane, hurry to the car, hurry in the house. It was very unnerving.
Every now and then, the man who confused her by claiming to be Bob
insisted she service his peculiar needs. He still insisted on being
called Master. And Heather insisted she had to cooperate. He always
left a foul taste in her mouth, in much more than the physical sense.
He made her feel dirty.
He never touched Heather though. That was a small consolation.
She could hear his voice. He was talking to someone in the study
above. They probably didn't know the window was open.
"I tell you we can still do it!"
"The Senator will be difficult to control. I'm not certain we can
continue operations until we've re-established ourselves here."
"As long as we have at least one of the sparks, we can still sell the
process!"
"No," a strange male baritone replied. "I won't chance it until we've
gotten a few more under our thumbs. I do thank you for bringing
Heather. But we've got to get these two sparks. I have the folder on
Robert Lawrence, and our field agents are gathering the necessary
information on Jorge Dansen as well. Too bad the debriefing material
for him was lost."
"I only just got out of there with the spark. The reporter was with me
at the time. I couldn't have gotten the tapes if I'd tried. You know
if I had, they'd be picking my brains too. Not just the lab techs we
left behind. And they don't need drugs to learn everything someone
knows."
"I know, I know. But I don't think Jezabel will understand."
A shiver went through Diane, hearing the tone in the stranger's voice.
Out of her sight, Jones shuddered at the name as well.
====
The trip was uneventful. The probe at the gate was gone. Whether
removed by the Institute or driven away by the Cabal, Bob had no idea.
They settled into the hotel suite very nicely, the women spreading out
all over. They had a nice view of Central Park looking north from the
balcony.
A man named Charles came by to visit. Jorge sent him. The man looked
a little like an academic, dressed as though he should pass for a
professor. The wire frame glasses kept sliding down his nose.
Bob knew the Charles was in charge of Cabal security or something
like it. They chatted a while. Bob didn't tell Charles anything he
hadn't told Jorge. Still, the man was grateful to Bob for helping. He
insisted on a substantial reward from the Cabal.
The Cabal demonstrated their gratitude to Bob in a monetary way. When
Charles learned how carefully he'd been accumulating his income, he
arranged a sizable retainer fee. Bob was now a semi-official
consultant of the Schmitz, Martin and Lear law firm.
They also promised to provide an accountant if he wanted. He'd
declined. If someone else was going to watch his money, it would be
someone he controlled.
It was uncomfortable having older siblings watching his every move.
Even if they were being protective.
====
His traveling harem had gone shopping.
Betty was excited about visiting Saks. Bob was more interested in a
town-house for the 'family'. First though, he had to get more
familiar with the City. He decided to explore a little on his own.
Manhattan is huge.
Bob was boggled at the shear size of it, the density of the
buildings, the number of people. For a seventeen to eighteen mile
long, five mile wide island, it was overwhelming him.
He went downtown to Chinatown. From there he walked north through the
village, Greenwich Village. Past the New York University buildings
and through Washington Square Park. He stopped for an early lunch
near a used book store he'd found around 12th street.
He continued on. The crowds were amazing, rushing from place to
place, hurrying to get where they were going so they could rush some
where else. He was unaccustomed to the waves of people.
At 33th street, an interesting game store had attracted his
attention. Too bad he really couldn't play competitively any more.
His discipline would have to improve significantly to keep from
reading an opponent's mind.
He wandered around, sampling food from street vendors, immersing
himself in the crowds. In the heat, scantily clad women glowed as
their exposed skin became moist. Crossing Herald Square, he avoided
the plethora of beggars in the little islands between the avenues.
After wandering about in a camera/electronics store for a while, he
decided to visit some of the Museums. The shopping crowd was beginning
to oppress him. Too many rushing people.
He climbed into a taxi in front of Madison Square Garden, across from
the Post Office.
====
Courtney was walking alone through the Gem exhibit.
The day was very peaceful. She'd taken off work to avoid the heat in
her office. Sometime, her boss promised, they'd get air conditioning
put in. In the meanwhile everyone had to live with it.
Today she'd escaped. The tiger's eye was her favorite gemstone. There
were a bunch of them here in the Museum of Natural History. The more
popular stones attracted the tourists, but the tiger's eye were the
loveliest stones here. She also liked the opals, but she knew the
colors came from the moisture in opal, not the stone itself. Tiger's
eye was its own natural wonder.
She wandered out past the moon rock, encased in Plexiglas of some
sort. There the school aged kids were gathered with their mothers. The
distant origins of the stone chunk attracted as much attention as
the rare gems of Earth.
A tall man looked on, over the children. He seemed as fascinated as
the kids. Was it her imagination, or was he watching her too? She was
used to men looking at her though, they found her attractive.
She stepped out into the hall. She started towards the exhibit of
American Indian artifacts. Brushing her red paisley dress smooth, she
failed to notice how it accented her figure. The low heeled, white
shoes she wore set off the laced socks she'd worn well.
She passed a museum guard, whose head followed the swish of her
dress' hem with momentary interest. He admired the section of
exposed leg, a calf turned with gentle and elegant curves.
The old drums and pictures of tepees adorning the walls didn't
attract her attention as much as the dugout canoe. She wondered how
long it took to hollow out, the birch bark canoe had to be easier to
make.
She clasped her hands behind her back, stepping from exhibit to
exhibit. These weren't as interesting as the tiger's eye, but it
remained a relaxing escape.
Behind her, a teenage boy admired the round shape of her bottom and
the drop of her dark pony tail as his parents called him away. She
never noticed.
She did catch a glimpse of the tall dirty blond fellow again,
examining the same dugout she'd looked at a while ago. He was
handsome enough, maybe she could introduce herself. He wandered off
before she made up her mind. Sigh, so it goes, she thought.
In the hall with the insect models she shuddered. She slipped past
them to see the whale. Hanging from the ceiling, it was impressive.
She liked the elegance of its long sleek features.
She walked down the stairs, drawing attention from the male half of a
couple going up. The guy's girlfriend punched him, whispered voices
conveying disapproval of his behavior. She smiled to herself.
Before the case showing the stuffed Seals she spied the tall guy
she'd seen elsewhere in the museum. This time she was going to get
close. His dirty blond hair was neatly combed. He wore a stylish pair
of trousers, a light cotton shirt, and dark running shoes. She
thought about introducing herself.
This whole thing was very unlike her. She almost never walked up to a
stranger to introduce herself. She stepped over to stand beside him
anyway, uncertain where her courage was coming from.
He turned, flashing her a sweet disarming smile. Her insides melted a
bit. Nerves took over. She froze up, barely managing to smile back.
"Hello."
"Hi," she squeaked. A short pause occurred.
"My name is Bob. I'm only visiting New York for the second time."
"I'm Courtney," she bobbed up on her tip toes, guessing him to be
about six foot four. Her five and an half foot height forced her to
tilt her head back to look at his face. She could see his eyes linger
on the rise of her bust, thrust forward by tilting her head.
"What would you say to accompanying me through some more of the
museum?"
"Sounds promising."
They walked for some time. She lost track of where they'd been. He was
very absorbing to listen to. If asked, she couldn't have said what he
talked about though. He was so, so, well, interesting for some reason.
By the time they walked through the exhibit of dinosaur bones, and
passed the large sea turtle, she had her arm intertwined with his. Her
head seemed almost magnetically drawn against his shoulder.
"How about we go outside, get a drink some place," he suggested.
"I'd like that."
As they emerged into the late afternoon sun, he allowed her to nuzzle
against him as though they were long time lovers. His warmth wasn't
the attraction, but attracted she was, clinging as she'd never done
with anyone before.
"They blow up the balloons for the Thanksgiving Day parade on this
street," she told him. He chuckled.
"I presume you mean they inflate them, not explode them."
She turned red for a moment, embarrassed, although she knew he was
pulling her leg.
"It's great to come the night before the parade. Everyone comes. It's
a huge party up and down the block. I've seen Woody Allen out here to
see the event."
"Nice. Could be a lot of fun."
They walked away from Central Park, then south. He was particularly
fascinated with a store featuring wind up toys. The name was "The Last
Wound Up" and they had to go in. He bought her a set of walking teeth.
She laughed as they clattered across the countertop.
They stopped at a cafe, pulling up a table by the window. She had
Cappuccino, he had Expresso. She'd never seen anyone put cream and
sugar into Expresso. He called it Turkish style. He was remarkably
quiet now, letting her run her mouth about her life.
She told him how she'd come to New York to work as an actress. She
talked about the problems with apartments, the job market, her
favorite recent movie.
When he excused himself to use the men's room she admonished herself.
She was practically flinging herself at him. She'd only just met him,
and here she was telling him her life story. It was very out of
character for her, the aloof woman she'd become, but she wanted to
spend the rest of the evening with him.
Hopefully, she would have many evenings with him.
====
In the men's room, Bob rinsed his face. Two men slipped in the two
stall bathroom after him. He had just washed his hands, when one of
them grabbed his shoulders and slammed him back against the wall.
A knife glinted in the glare of harsh bare lightbulbs. The brawny man
before him started to lunge... never to make it. His eyes glazed over,
then his accomplice froze as well.
Bob found the image of another man, a buddy, in their minds. They'd
been told to roll him, take anything they wanted, but to leave him
dead. They'd followed him since early in the morning. The buddy,
someone they occasionally did work for, hadn't said why. And these
two never would've asked anyway.
He pulled everything from them they knew about their charming pal.
Then he left.
About fifteen minutes later, a blue uniformed patrolman was listening
to the two confess everything illegal they'd done since kindergarten.
They listened to him read them their rights, but they breezed on
through everything again, explaining in detail where he could get
evidence.
Bob by then was back with the girl. Very lightly adjusting her
impressions of him to make him as seductive a partner as she'd ever
met in her life. A dream like lover or prince to her. She was dizzy as
he quickly either adjusted her the slightest amount, or by reading her
mind took advantage of her own desires.
He was going to take her. And use her to sheath his tool.
====
Courtney enjoyed the flick, a romantic comedy about some guy, his
kid and a truly improbable girlfriend. She held Bob's hand the entire
time, unwilling to let him go.
The night was cooler. They walked to the upper west side, wandering
around west of Columbia. Her apartment was near by, it was time to
call it a night.
She took him along to her building stoop. They sat and watched the
comings and goings from the neighborhood a little while.
"I've got to go to bed," she told him.
He smiled and took her by the hand to the door. She teetered back and
forth a few minutes, while he stood there.
"Come up for a quick soda, but then you'll have to go."
His head tilted quizically, but he agreed. She couldn't escape the
seductive draw he had about him. She found her eyes swallowed in his
dark gray pool like eyes.
Unlocking the door she guided him into the narrow apartment. The
living room shared space with the kitchenette. Her air conditioner
had started on the time, so the apartment was cooler than out doors.
Not much cooler, but enough to make it livable.
The bedroom, slightly unkempt, showed through the door next to the
stove. She started to go pull the door to the bedroom closed, but his
hand firmly grasped her shoulder.
She turned and her eyes again were drawn to his. She couldn't yank her
eyes aside at all. Her mouth hung open as he drew close. She backed
against a chair, stumbling, but not taking her eyes from his. Her head
tilted unconsciously back as his lips met hers.
Finally her eyes were off his. They were closed as she lost herself in
the lusty exchange of greetings between their tongues. She could feel
strength in his arms as he reached behind her, pulling her torso close
to his own. A dream quality, as though she were only present as an
observer, crept over her.
She pulled back.
"I don't think we'd better..."
He drew her in again. The sensual touch of his body against her sent a
tingling and pleasant feeling into her stomach. The hum of the air
conditioner covered her gasp of pleasure as he gently gripped her
ass, more a light massage than a grasp.
She tried to pull away, but his tongue held her like a magnet. She
pressed against his chest lighter than she intended, planning to
escape from his clasp.
Lingering kisses from him were covering her face. Chest heaving now
with excited interest, she found her eyes were rolling from the
sensation of being tenderly worshiped.
She didn't want to let this happen. She didn't. But Bob was in control
of the moment, pulling her in tighter, raining little goose bump
raising kisses about her neck and shoulders.
Then his fingers found her breast. She drew in a sharp gasp as the
electric bolt of arousal shot through to her throat. The fabric added
its own gentle silk feel to his touch, giving the contact a jolting
and burning sensation.
She managed weakly to pull back, panting. Lips swollen with lust
filled excitement, she shook her head trying to shake free from the
cobwebs tangling her mind.
This couldn't be, she thought. She never let anyone in on the first
date. And never necked or petted if she didn't know them pretty well.
Bob though, he, well, he was almost mystically enticing. And well, she
could stop him now, couldn't she?
He drew her to the couch and pulled her down.
The sounds of City life were battering down the walls, sirens, yelling
couples, kids crying out in the night. She heard her own heart over
the normal City noises, pounding excitedly as the man beneath her
sucked in her lips, wrestled with her tongue, and took free liberties
with her breasts.
It was a dreamy kind of excitement. A wild trip, a roller coaster with
Bob's hands gently kneeding the concealed flesh through her clothing.
Every time she opened her eyes they rolled about, bringing her head
into gyrating motions of lust. The kisses he passionately endowed to
her were searing hot, bringing a wet lust into her throat.
"Unnngh."
Her discussion was lowering to simple moans, she locked her hand about
Bob's wrist, the one with the molesting hand attached. But she
couldn't bring herself to push the hand away as she knew she should.
His breath brought a flaming red heat to her skin. A crawling feeling
of pleasure crept across the back of her shoulders.
"Oh, please, I can't..."
Her head lolled back as he treated her neck and throat to a bath from
his tongue and lips.
"No. No. Don't do this..."
That villainous hand was resting on her right leg. Right at the knee.
The fingers were caressing the flesh there, exploring the inside of
her leg.
"Oh. Please don't do that..."
The hand slowly inched upwards. She snatch at it with her left hand
while he tongued the slight cleavage exposed in the red paisley print.
However tightly she griped the hand though, she found herself almost
guiding him forward, helping to lift the hem of the dress above her
thighs.
Sensing her vulnerability, he was going to get his fingers on her
sopping wet crotch. She was ashamed, shocked she was allowing a one
day acquaintance do this to her. The tips of his fingers teased her
flesh through the wet panties. She knew he now was aware just how wet
she'd become. She was certain her face was pink. The shame at letting
him get this far tonight was affecting her breathing, bringing the
panting to a heavier level.
"Ohhh! I don't want to do this, not tonight... ohhhh!"
"Sure you do," he whispered into the ear he was nibbling. A wet soft
tongue explored the recesses there afterwards.
"No, no. It isn't right. Ahhh! I hardly know you..."
"Soon you'll beg me, I promise to get you hot enough to forget any
reason for hesitating."
His fingers had teased her crotch to the point it was rolling on its
own, betraying her professed wishes. Her pelvis was trying to join in,
generating a rhythm she struggled to suppress. And failed.
"ooooohhh!"
Her tongue protruded its tip out, pressing against her lips. She could
feel his mouth at her tits, chewing lightly through the cloth. Her
nipples were shooting energy out her chest in all directions. Their
erect state was clearly visible through the dress, any time he lifted
his head.
"ooooohhh!"
A guttural groan rose within her. The day's excitement was growing
into the night's excitement. Her body was engaged in sex without her
permission. She couldn't stop him. His entire hand now cupped her
crotch. Heat was rising from there as well.
"ooooohhh!"
She could feel him pull back a bit. Her dilemma at wanting to go on,
and wanting to stop remained in his hands. He began to lift her dress
up over her head. She struggled to stop him, pushing him away. But he
simply took her wrists in one hand and did the work with his other.
Stripped to her bra and panties, she felt exposed. The shame she felt
earlier rose again, turning her pink.
He paused only to chuckle at her embarrassment. His fingers again
working their magic at her crotch. There was a magic too, for all the
arousal he gave her, she seemed unlikely to come soon. She was on the
up side of a roller coaster, and there was no telling when she'd
come down.
Her body's excitement grew. Her mind was wallowing in the shame at the
loss of control over her own desires. His finger tips flew along the
length of her most private parts, forcing the fluids to rise inside.
"ooooohhh! unnnggh, stop, unnnggh, please stop... why are you,
ooooohhh!, doing this to me???..."
The spiral of excitement climbed higher as her hips lunged against his
hand. Her head rolled. And again he stopped. She couldn't decide
whether to scream for him to leave or to continue.
He lifted her. Carrying her draped across his shoulders like so much
waste in a large sack, he hauled her to the bedroom. She never let
anyone in here. She knew she was being violated, but her body was an
accomplice in the act. He eased her onto the bed, and pulled off the
panties, her shoes, and undid the bra she still wore. Her body
continued to throb with desire against her wishes.
Still wearing her lacy socks, she was rolled onto her back. He stood
there undressing as she watched panting.
"Don't do this. I beg you, stop now. Maybe we can do this some other
time, when we've known each other longer."
He chuckled again.
"I'm taking you now. And instead of begging me to stop, you'd best
consider begging me to fuck you. You might want to get over
eventually, and you'll only get there if I take you."
"No, ooooohhh, can't be true."
He was beside her again, naked. Her flesh against his flesh. She could
feel the draw, the magnetism, a seductive pull from the man. He had
her body under his sway, and she couldn't change that.
"ooooohhh!"
Her moaning commenced again. He wrapped his arms around her, spooning
her with his stiff prick against the crack of her ass. Right hand
cupping her crotch again, he cupped her left breast in the other. His
lips worked across her shoulders to her neck and back.
Goose bumps ran up and down the length of her body. She couldn't keep
her legs together. Her right foot desperately sought to be behind his
legs, pulling him closer to her. A finger slipped into her vagina,
sending pulses into her.
Her already heightened state accelerated, her left arm pounding
against the mattress, seeking release. She gasped. She moaned. The air
in her lungs gushed out, only to be replaced in seconds by a rush of
fresh oxygen.
"No," she gasped again. "no..."
His cock was rubbing in and out along her cheeks. A tingling pleasant
feel rose from her bottom. Where she lay now, trapped in Bob's arms,
she couldn't change no matter what.
She needed to come. She had to come. The orgasm she needed was just
another step on the ladder of ecstasy, she could tell. However,
nothing changed to give her the release her body demanded.
Frantically, she pushed herself farther along, and just as frantically
the release moved another step away.
"No. no, ooooohhh!"
"You want to come?" came his harassing voice.
"Oh Yes! ooooohhh!"
"You'll have to beg for it..."
"AAAHHHH, I-I CAN'T!"
"Oh, come on now, let's here it. 'Please fuck me, please fill my
pussy', you can do it..."
"no, no, aaaahhh, nooooo..."
The fingers in her cunt began to work her clitoris, the nerves
virtually shouted in combinations of pain and pleasure. Her body was
pounding against him, rocking the mattress now.
"You either beg, or you won't get what you want..."
"OH GOD, why are you doing this to me...?"
"Because you're so pretty as you plead with me. It excites me, and you
seem to crave this kind of treatment."
"no, no, aaaaahhhyyyyyaa!"
"Oh yes..."
"You're humiliating me. nnnnngggh, you bastard."
"Yes, but it's making you so fucking hot isn't it? ISN'T IT?!"
"No, no, no, .... aaaahhhh, yes it is you fuck."
"Be nice, beg...."
Her cheeks were being prodded nicely by his manhood. She wanted him in
her now. She was horribly ashamed of herself for failing to stop him
from going this far, but now she was trapped in a cycle of arousal.
Requiring release, now she knew begging for it was the only way.
"Okay, please fuck me....nnnnnnggg."
"What? I don't think that was very good... try again."
"GOD! fug me, please, oh please put your prick in my cunt and make me
come."
"Good, much better. You keep it up nicely and I may yet let you come."
"AAAHHHHIIEEE! unnngh, unnnggh!"
Her panting grew heavier, the heaving of her chest as he abused the
nipples was madly rhythmic. She'd fuck a goddamn horse if it would get
her off now. She had to have that cock in her, and she had to have it
now!
He pulled her feet up onto his shoulders. Maddeningly, he admired the
lacy socks a moment. Then he just teased the lips of her pussy with
the tip of his prick, pulling away as she tried to lunge her crotch
against him to get a plunge into her. She felt like a slut begging,
and now a bit like a whore, trying to press him into her like this.
He was grinning.
"Before I fuck you, you should tell me what a useless rag you are. I
want to hear you say how you are making yourself my property,
forever."
"You fucking bastard. I begged. I PLEADED. Please fuck me, goddammit!
Can't you see how desperately I need it? I want you, I want you so bad
it hurts inside."
She rolled her head from side to side again. Her body writhing out of
control.
"Yeah, but that's old news. I want to hear you give me ownership of
your body. I want you to admit you're no better than a slave..."
"Aaahhhh! I give myself to you! please, please fuck me. Please treat
me like property, but please fuck me now!"
"Close, not treat you like, you are property. Say it."
"I'm property, yours, body and soul. GoD! CAN'T TAKE IT. PLEASE!?"
"Good bitch. Now..."
He plunged into her. The fullness was grand! She rolled her head,
ignoring the fact the right swing made her hang out over the edge.
He pumped. She rejoiced as he pounded away, hammering with practiced
skill.
"Tell me, everything we agreed to while you come!"
Humiliation swept deeply into her soul. It bit into where she kept her
self respect, bringing out the shame she'd grown inside since she
asked Bob in. She was low, an animal, no more important than a slug.
She bit back her grunts, moaning as she began to speak,
"I'm yours. unh, I belong oooohhh! to you. I want to be fucked. Use
me as a rag. Unnngh! I need you to screw me hard! Please don't stop!
unnnh..."
Suddenly she felt the spurting of semen into her intimate parts. He
grunted out a stern "YEES!". But she still hadn't come. He slowed
down, she writhed about even more.
"You promised me, please don't stop now! Please!"
"Roll over bitch."
"WHAT!"
"You heard me."
Her humiliation knew a new height. Desperate for release, she rolled.
He pulled her up to her knees and pushed her face into the pillows in
front of her.
"Fuck me, please, let me come!" she continued to plead, knowing it
didn't matter. He was going to do whatever he please with her, and she
would happily consent. And assist.
He was remarkably stiff for a man who just came. His prick rubbed
against her little rosette, the nether hole, an even more private
part of her anatomy. She never would've considered doing this before.
She whimpered as he pushed his prick into her little asshole.
"Yooow!" she yelped as he pressed it deeper. Her body was still
rolling with waves of pleasure, anxious to orgasm. He pressed another
inch into her. Surprisingly the fullness was desperately exciting as
well. His cock finally pressed all the way home, his balls resting
against the wet bottom of her cunt.
"Unnnnggh!" she mouthed, breathing the sound out as well. His fingers
found her clit again, and rubbed it in little circles.
"Ready slut?"
"Yes, please fuck my ass, god please fuck me hard!" and she whimpered
again.
His dominance of her was complete, she'd yielded everything she could.
There simply wasn't anything left to give over tonight.
His in and out motions built slowly. To her amazement, she found
herself pushing back, forcing her ass to accept the bludgeoning
instrument of invasion. She could feel the violation deep within her,
her panting heaving from her in waves.
Then. Then it began. She could feel the white heat rising. Flashing
fires raged up from her ass, filled her from her clit, and even surged
outward from the nipple he'd begun to pinch so brutally she thought
she must be bleeding.
"OOOOOOOHHHHIIIIIIEEEEE!" screamed her voice, as loud as she'd ever
managed. Her body surged through a second orgasm following close on
the heels of the first. His cock unleashed another pulse of fluid into
her, leaving seed inside her most private regions. She screamed again,
releasing another wave of orgasmic energy, almost slamming her head
against the wall before her.
She collapsed. Still kneeling, her body relieved of the tight tension
of waiting, she gasped for air to recover. As she did, she could still
feel him filling her ass. The humiliation returned in strength. She
was too embarrassed to speak.
He pulled out slowly, leaving her with a feeling she was missing
something. She suddenly felt lonely without him in her. She longed for
his penis within her, anywhere in her. She felt a longing well up
within, desire for his touch. A desire to be a bare object, a tool
for his use. She wondered at this nugget of desire, turning it in her
mind.
He rose. Slapping her sharply on the bottom. She smiled at this sign
of ownership he'd made. At least he liked her, she thought.
====
"Hiya, Jorge."
"Where are you Bob?"
"New York. Met your Mr. Charles."
"Not Mr. Charles. Charles is his first name."
"Really? Doesn't matter. How would the Institute trace me here? I
mean, I had two guys try to kill me."
"Jesus. How in the fuck could anyone find you that fast? Maybe
scanners at the airport?"
"No, no. I'd notice that. Gotta be something else."
"Maybe a simple surveillance thing. Someone recognized you from a
photo. It's possible, although I have a hard time figuring out where
they'd spot you. Maybe they tumbled through the hotel reservation
system. I don't know."
"I guess. I just thought you'd like to know. I'm gonna look for their
boss. Call if anything breaks on your end."
"You bet. Maybe New York isn't such a good idea."
"Maybe I'll be able to backtrack them if they keep it up."
"Good point. Good night."
"Yeah..."
click.
He hung up the handset.
The naked sleeping woman was a sweaty mess from their sex. She was
lovely though, serene in her repose. Lacy socks still in place.
****
uh, yeah. Maybe, just maybe I'll be able to wrap this up sometime this
summer. I know some of you want it to go on forever, but book length
runs anywhere from 90k words to 130k words. This could get close,
believe me. With this episode, not counting the 'from the files of the
institute' stuff, it reaches close to 60-65k words (based on wild ass
guess).
-Blackie
Amusing silly quote:
"Pour Hope in Bell's Ivory Flesh slip."
-Kathleen Starcher, _Paint on a Happy Face_ first sentence. Found
in summer 1993 issue of 'Dollmaking' (if ever a magazine name was
erotically punny, this one gets a vote)
--
I will ignore all requests for: reposts, e-mailing parts, ftp/gif/archive
sites, and subscription requests. These stories get deleted immediately after
they are posted. For more info on the ARCHIVE postings, read the FAQ posted
bi-monthly to a.s.s.d. And don't send me chain mail- I'll notify your sysadmin.
Path: holytoy!seunet!seunet!sunic!news.funet.fi!news.eunet.fi!EU.net!howland.reston.ans.net!vixen.cso.uiuc.edu!laff
From: laff@sal.cs.uiuc.edu (Joshua A Laff)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: ARCHIVE: the-book-12.Z
Message-ID: <2tuaea$bqu@vixen.cso.uiuc.edu>
Date: 18 Jun 1994 08:15:06 GMT
Reply-To: laff@sal.cs.uiuc.edu
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Organization: University of Illinois at Urbana
Lines: 1143
NNTP-Posting-Host: sal.cs.uiuc.edu
This story is another from the archives, and is not written by me.
Requests for just about anything concerning these posts will be ignored.
See the FAQ in a.s.s.d for more information. And stop sending talk
requests. Even when I'm logged in to this posting site, I usually
have the window closed, and if I don't, it's because I'm WORKING
From: an25611@anon.penet.fi (-Blackie)
Date: Mon, 2 Aug 1993 16:52:26 UTC
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Story: Deep in the Pages (The Book pt 12)
Another in the tale of _The Book_, a mind control story. If you
haven't read the story from the beginning, don't try to start it
here. Get the rest first.
This is strictly adult material. If you are underage, you've no
business reading it. Go away. Come back when you're old enough. We'd
love to see you then. (ah, youth, I remember it well)
.... brief desc here .... m/f, f/f, non-consensual, about 50% sex.
All characters are strictly fictional, any resemblance to anyone
living or dead is purely coincidental.
Reminder: *** I WILL NOT EMAIL PREVIOUS EPISODES ***
^^^
Got that? Why not you ask? It would be unfair to the anonymous server
to pack its limited bandwidth with dozens of mail messages 45-55K long
each, when other sources are available consuming less Net resources.
Email is gleefully welcome. Most do get replies, I'm afraid some have
slipped through the cracks. In some cases, email has been known to
vanish into the craw of the net.beast.
Try your favorite mailserver, several advise me they add _The Book_
episodes as I post. So I'd like at this time to mention the mailserver
run by Joshua Laff.
Josh runs a mailserver you can get the rest of _The Book_ from at
"laff@sal.cs.uiuc.edu". If you send mail with "Filesend: help" in the
body of the message, instructions will be mailed on how to use the
server. The story is listed as "Story/the-book[-#].Z" where [-#] is
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Copyright (c) 1993, Oogle Bird Enterprises.
All rights reserved, permission granted for a single printed copy for
personal use only. Transmission of this story in electronic form is
permitted provided no alterations are made to text, and this message
is included in its entirety.
_Deep in the Pages_
In swarming numbers, the people rushed by, off on their own little
errands. Head above the crowds, Bob mused how tall he seemed in
Chinatown. Smells of oriental cooking wafted along with the more
familiar smells of dense City life.
Tony, the kid's name, had led him here. The boy would have walked the
entire way, but Bob decided a taxi would serve them better. The
expatriate Pakistani driver understood just enough English to get them
downtown.
The narrow side streets were cluttered with little store displaying
signs mostly in the artistic script of China. Because Tony could
understand them, Bob had little difficulty reading the signs. They
went down an alley with a sign touting printing services.
Like most alleys, this one was narrow, with fire escape ladders on
either side. Trash bins were against the walls, some missing their
lids entirely. A rotting smell impacted Bob like a brick. He could
sense the intelligences behind hidden eyes, watching them pass.
At the end of the alley, they came to a red enamel painted door. Tony
looked about furtively, then knocked. Bob reached through the door,
and took hold of the guard whose duty it was to screen visitors.
The door opened quickly. Tony led the way in.
He led along a gaudily decorated hallway, something like a bad Chinese
restaurant. Tony waved Bob to follow him up some stairs.
Bob locked onto every mind he could find along the way, planting
seeds of loyalty to himself. He didn't want to leave in too much of a
hurry.
On the second floor, they passed through a barroom filled with young
oriental girls. Most of them in stylized dresses, with carefully
prepared makeup, some dressed very skimpily. Bob didn't need to read
their minds to know what they were here for. Thoughts of lust
emanated from the small rooms beyond. The girls were mostly bored.
Another set of stairs, Bob knew he'd get winded if they climbed the
entire building by stairway. It turned out this was the last flight.
They passed through a heavy, possibly metal, doorway at the top.
A very tastefully oriental decor graced the room they entered. An
equally tasty looking young lady sat a reception desk before the only
other exit. Her pale face was round and smooth, her olive complexion
brought out the color in her seemingly slanted eyes. Her jet black
hair was pinned in place atop her head with carefully crafted hair
sticks.
Tony walked up to the desk.
"I'm here to see Chi."
"Tony, you know you're supposed to call first." Her voice was soft and
seductive even with a scolding tone. "Who is this guy?"
"This is Bob..." he stopped as Bob waved him to silence.
"Let me lead you in," the now completely controlled receptionist said.
She stood gracefully, as though accustomed to being ornamental. Her
walk was a gliding motion, feet out of sight in her long dress, a
silky white thing with stylized red dragons on it. She opened the door
behind the desk and stepped through.
Bob followed, with Tony following respectfully behind.
The door entered into a large office. The decor was similar, a Bonsai
at the corner of a great Oak desk. The woman led them to one of three
other doors and through to yet another room.
This was a bedroom. A large bed graced the center of the room and on
it an older Chinese man was obviously at his pleasure with two very
young girls. None of them noticed the intruders immediately.
"Mr. Chi," spoke the receptionist. Her voice remained enticingly
desirable, even with the stress of interrupting her boss. Yet when
Chi broke away from intercourse, there was white rage in his eyes.
Before he said anything, she gestured to Bob. "This gentleman is here
to see you and it was urgent."
"Cindy, you will suffer for this indignity. You knew I wasn't to be
disturbed!"
"Forgive the girl, Mr. Chi. She had no choice." Bob interceded without
controlling Chi. Yet.
"Just who the hell are you!?"
The two girls had scrambled to the side and were covering themselves
with sheets. Bob noticed they were twins. How very interesting. He
waved the receptionist and Tony to step out and settled into a chair
before answering the Tong equivalent of Godfather.
"I'm the man who can walk through any defense you create without
anyone seeing me."
"Ninja? You can't be, if I was to die, I'd never know."
"Ninja!? I thought they were a myth."
"They are, for the most part. There are killers though, good ones,
some who think they are Ninja. It would not surprise you to know I
thought you were one such? Do you mind?" He nodded towards his
clothes.
"Oh no, by all means. Get dressed. But while you do, I'd like to
talk."
"Okay. You know my guards will tear you apart when they get here?"
"They won't. But that's unimportant." Bob admired the two sisters
cowering to the side. He flung out a control probe, making them drop
their sheets, and displaying themselves for his scrutiny. "Yesterday,
I was in Brooklyn. This wouldn't be important normally, but it was to
investigate why a pair of goons tried to kill me recently. As you
might imagine, I was quite upset."
Chi simply nodded, acknowledging the remark. He'd pulled on his pants,
and was working on his shirt. His jacket lay folded in a neat, if
bumpy, pile along with his tie.
"After my business dealings on the subject, I found myself wandering
one of the local parks. In that same park, the young man who just
stepped out found me. He made the second attempt on my life. Oddly
enough, he received his instructions from you. Or so he says."
The man now held a pistol pointed at Bob. Bob took control of the arm
and forcing it to the side, making Chi's thumb reset the safety. Chi
looked stunned at the actions of his own body.
"As you now can see, I don't need your cooperation. It just suits me
not to overuse my skills."
"Seven Hells! How did you do that?"
"Think of me as a Sorcerer. You seem to already have that concept in
mind. Yes, I think Sorcerer will explain it best in these digs."
"What do you want of me?"
"For starters, I think I'll take the Wu sisters home with me today.
You should make a gift of them to me. They look like exquisitely fine
fucks." By now they were poised beside Bob, legs crooked in a model's
stance, chests thrust forward to show their small but firm breasts,
and their arms spread palms out in supplication.
The man's rage reappeared. He didn't like his ownership of the two
little harlots begin dismissed so easily. He had waited for these two
to reach sexual maturity for years.
His anger passed quickly, replaced by calculated thinking. He
realized the veiled threat implied by Bob's manipulation of the two
girls.
"I'll tell you anything you want, but my orders came through channels
from the Tong's national leadership. All I was told was to send
someone to get you, someone expendable."
"Yup, that's Tony. If anyone's expendable, he is. So how did you know
to get me in Brooklyn?"
"I was told you'd be there. Not why."
"How come you actually talked to Tony yourself, instead of some
lesser thug in the Tong?"
"Ha!" The older man laughed for a moment. "I can see you know little.
I shall explain. It will amuse me while I contemplate the method of
your demise.
"I received orders to see to making the arrangements myself. Tony was
chosen because of the combination he had shown of devotion and
disposability. I would not violate honor throwing away someone with
such loyalty not knowing what had been lost. I see his loyalty was
more changeable than I believed. His entire family will be punished.
He should have died before yielding up the Tong."
"You know how little control over his loyalty he had against my
talents. Why do you still need to punish him and his family?"
"The cause does not matter, only what his actions matter. Others
would sway like so many reeds in the wind if his example became
known."
Bob finally scanned through the man's mind. Mostly he'd told the
truth. Chi cared only for Chi. He knew exactly how to run his
organization, and New York was his venue. This thing was an
embarrassment because he'd had to dirty his own hands. He didn't like
that much.
A little kernel of omitted fact had remained withheld from Bob. The
higher organization had only passed on the contact. A man in a church
in Harlem. All the information came from the unusual black man, even
where Bob would be, although not why.
Bob ran his hands along the sides of the two girls, one now to either
side of his chair. They sighed, letting their heated and lustful
desire show. He let them writhe, anxious for his touch.
The Tong boss was irritated by this act. He couldn't get them to
respond so, and if they did it would be a performance, not genuine
lust. He controlled himself rather than anger the frightening self
styled sorcerer.
It didn't matter much, Bob would do as he pleased with any man
ordering his death. Even if only a middle man in the operation.
Bob adjusted Chi's memory. This had been a pleasant and profitable
meeting, or so he'd remember. As a gift of friendship, he'd given the
two girls to Bob. The entire assassination issue never happened. And
Tony's family would be safe too.
Bob didn't really want the twins. Their little bodies were ravaged by
drugs and abuse, and he simply couldn't bring himself to leave them
here. He also wanted to do something decent, to assuage his own sense
of virtue. He would do a serious job of reprogramming their lives, as
soon as they all left.
For his own pleasure though, he did bring Cindy along. That breathy
voice was so hot, he wanted to hear more of it.
Soon he would have to visit 121st Street, reaching into the heart of
Harlem. He'd heard so many bad things about the primarily Black
neighborhood. It didn't sound like much fun.
====
The offices of Schmitz, Martin & Lear had an unusual aspect to them.
The offices weren't so much those of a Law Firm, as the placard
outside suggested, as that of a private club. It made sense since the
club was the Cabal.
Past the receptionist, oddly enough a pert little oriental ethnic
lady, were what appeared to be fully functional offices. Anyone
walking to the back would come across a bored looking security guard.
Ostensively he appeared to be guarding the file vault.
In reality, he was the last check point before entering the expansive
suites of bedrooms and entertainment rooms. There was even a
substantial dining room complete with serving staff. It was more like
a concealed hotel and brothel than anything else.
In fact, there were quite a few staff members. Almost all of them very
pretty or handsome, depending on choice of gender. For some members,
this was a dumping ground for used toys, former mind slaves who could
just be set free. They liked to trade the mutes they'd found though,
and kept stock on hand for large parties.
Bob felt he understood Charles disgust with the members at the
leadership level. It was simple enough to release these people to
live more or less normal lives. It wasn't as if there was any shortage
of mutes around.
One of the servant girls walked up to him. Her blouse was a revealing
silk affair that left nothing of her ample breasts to the imagination.
She bobbed in front of him, smiling. She struck a pose intended to
give maximum access to any part of her body he wanted to touch.
"Master Charles will see you now. Would you like me to lead you to
him?"
"Yes," before she turned he gently caressed her right breast with his
left hand. He could feel the soft skin wasn't restrained by a bra,
her nipple hardening immediately. She sighed, contented at any use
made of her.
"Oh yes, I do like that," she breathed out in a sultry tone. She
offered, "I'd love to make you happy with me."
Her eyes locked onto his, pleading to be treated as a toy.
Partly because it was too easy, partly because he wasn't the one
controlling her, he dropped his hand to his side. She shrugged, as if
waking from a pleasant dream, and walked off. He followed, admiring
the lilt her heart shaped bottom had with her steps.
She opened a door, waving him in. He had no doubt that if he pulled
her in with him, she'd gleefully perform any act he wanted. As he
looked her in the eye, she winked seductively at him. He stepped into
the room.
It appeared to be a sitting room. There were many sitting rooms in
these offices. This one had high backed, deep cushioned chairs,
upholstered in thick red velvet.
Before him, in one of the chairs, sat the enforcer of the Cabal. The
Inquisitor they named him. The man looked like a college professor,
in relaxed clothing, a brown sports jacket and gray slacks. He'd
added one element to his general appearance since Bob first met him.
Charles was affecting a pipe habit.
At the far wall, a TV encased in a cabinet blared. Bob caught a
glimpse of someone pounding away at a pulpit with a red covered, gilt
edged book. Ah, some Holy Roller, preaching from the boob tube. The
TV clicked off as Charles pointed a little black box its general
direction. Charles was certainly interested in the God business
lately.
"Much as I hate the idea, he may be one of ours. If so, he's got to be
reined in. Too much political involvement." The voice came from the
deep chair. After a moment, Bob realized Charles was talking about the
pulpit pounder.
Charles turned and broke into his best 'for company' smile. Bob
wondered if Jorge would have to do the job, dropping his search for
the Institute.
"How do you like the Big Apple?" The remote control box was put to
the side.
"I'd like it better if people didn't keep trying to kill me."
"Jorge said something had happened. A couple guys at one of the local
eateries?"
"And yesterday a kid with a rifle in a park."
"I didn't know there was a second attempt. The good Lord must be
watching over you."
"Yeah? More likely I've been watching over me."
"I suppose it's possible the Institute knows you're in the City. How
is beyond me, though."
"Could be. You got any further leads on those clowns?"
"No. Jorge thought he had a hot lead in Seattle, but it didn't pan
out. We haven't uncovered anything at the 'rehabilitation center' to
chase after either."
"I see." Bob slid into one of the seats. There was something to be
said for a nice soft chair.
"What has Jorge told you?"
"He just says he's working on it. Then he tells me to come talk to you
if I want any more help. Say, there is something you could tell me..."
"If I can."
"Tell me the history of the Cabal."
"The Cabal as we know it got it's name under the reign of Charles II
of England..."
"No, no. Before that, it must be older than that."
"Well, I'm a little sketchy. There are some official archives. They're
in Scandinavia. But I can tell you a few things.
"No one really knows when it started. The first telepaths to band
together in a mutual protection society did so before the dawn of
time. At least, before records were kept of it. Keep in mind they
lived as parasites on the civilizations going at the time, and as
such didn't bother much with their own records until later than
everyone else.
"The earliest records I heard of date to Crete. There were some pretty
bizarre happenings, but back then the Voice was just a manifestation
of the will of the Gods. Barbarous brutes.
"In Greece and Macedonia, a small group under the control of a man
named Aristenes wandered aimlessly for a while. We found some records
of them, referred to as the Ghostly Ones. From time to time they'd
enter one of the City States and make off with a bunch of women or
supplies, leaving as little memory of their visit as possible.
"The Romans were the first to actively persecute telepaths. They were
executed as dangerous soothsayers. This was when the first real
organization thrived. Back then we were the Senatus Secretus or some
such Latin thing, the Secret Senate.
"Over the years, the group operated as puppet masters. They pulled the
strings behind the political scenes for some time. Then a few of them
fell out amongst themselves. There were some pretty brutal wars
fought. You look in the history books and see internal conflict. The
period of Caligula was particularly bad. What I see is the
manipulation in striving to dominate other telepaths by military
force.
"It was quite messy for a while. It wasn't until the middle ages,
oddly enough still from Rome, that the leadership reconciled. They
immediately set about trying to create rules to protect themselves
against armed conflicts they'd created.
"Not that any of them gave a damn about the mutes. No, it was self
preservation they were worried about. When entire civilizations go to
war, everybody goes to hell and no one is safe. God bless, it was one
thing they did right.
"There were a few rogues back then too though. Various different Kings
surged forth with ideas of conquest. Advisors were thick as flies.
Often there was someone with a Voice amid the flies.
"So the Senate put together a team of Voices to enforce the
unofficial rules. They banded together through whatever was the best
communication channel at the time, and tracked any Voice breaking
cover."
Charles banged the pipe he held against his palm.
"Back then it was easier to cover up the damage. It was also much more
likely any rogue Voice would be executed rather than persuaded. This
century, there have been a few high profile Voices. We've done the
best we could to control them."
"Like who?," Bob broke in.
"Many should be obvious. Adolf Hitler who had a whole set of Voices
following him. Josef Stalin, and oh yeah, another World War II name,
General MacArthur. Here in the '50s, Joe McCarthy. A man named Jim
Jones who led a religious cult. There have been a few popular Rock
stars you won't remember because their music was awful, but their
concerts were great. Some Country/Western musicians, and not a few
movie moguls, even Howard Hughes. Hollywood draws Voices like a
magnet, I've got three permanent agents there now. How about Nick
McFarrin? There's a name you won't know."
"Nick McFarrin?"
"All the nonsense about the conspiracy to assassinate Kennedy had to
come from somewhere. Nick did it."
"Ho ho!" Bob chortled. "All that huzzah, and some guy with Voice was
behind the whole thing?"
"Yup. Didn't like Kennedy's space program stuff. Real obscure reason,
eh?..."
Charles paused, looking up at the ceiling in disbelief for a moment
before continuing.
"Anyway, we've been running under pretty much the same loose
organization since the days of Rome. We just added some rules to
protect ourselves. The name change happened because some bright Duke
in England proper put two and two together. It added up to the Secret
Senate and so he started a Witch hunt. The organization dissolved for
a short while, after he'd executed a few of the leadership. Turned out
he was immune to control or something.
"It was pretty rough for a time I'm told. But we don't have an
official historian. Just a sparse bunch of old records, carefully
kept up by the mutes brought in to do tedious work. They think they're
monks, by the way.
"After that, the name Cabal stuck. Some idiot recently suggested we
change it again to something like Illuminati. Read too much popular
fiction in my opinion. So the old titles remained even with the name
change, Inquisitor was the original title. Originally some kind of
sergeant at arms."
"What are you going to do about these attempts to kill me?"
"Nothing. It's your problem. I suggest you go borrow a few detectives
from the police to investigate for you. It's what any other Voice
would do."
"You're joking, right?"
"Nope. I have real problems. The Institute for one. The idiot on the
TV when you came in for another."
"But it is the Institute!"
"When they show up with mind shields, then I'll believe they represent
the Institute. In the meantime, they're just mysterious goons.
Possibly just working for some gangster husband you've upset. You can
handle that yourself."
"Umm." Bob sat and contemplated. They both stared into space a while.
"I have to leave," Charles finally said. "Have fun while you're here.
Adieu."
Charles walked out, leaving the door slightly ajar.
Bob felt as though he had peered into the glass bottom of one of those
eight ball prediction gimmicks. 'Answer hazy, try again later' kept
coming up.
A clock ticked mechanically over the fireplace he hadn't paid any
attention to. Since there was no help to be had here, he'd have to
back track the would be killers himself. A chill crept down his
spine.
"Hello?" came a woman's voice from the door.
"Yes?"
"Oh, I thought there wasn't anyone here. I was going to clean up.
Never mind." She turned to leave.
"Wait," called Bob.
She turned back. He looked her over. Shapely, a bit bustier than most
women, she wore a simple little maid's outfit. Her blonde hair was
styled into an attractive perm ending at her bare shoulders. The legs
she displayed curved eloquently atop 4 inch heels. Her stockings were
straight, showing a neat little line up the backs as she turned.
"Step in here."
She walked forward, her bustline wobbling nicely.
"What's your name?"
"Jodi."
He appraised her carefully. She was in very good physical condition,
even if she'd been adjusted by someone else. He probed her gently.
The blundering fool who made her a mind slave wasn't very subtle. The
changes were implanted as though with a lead brick. Bob spent the next
few minutes undoing the total suppression of her personality. At least
the parts obliterating her ability to show initiative came away
without too much trouble.
He was beginning to see why the other members didn't cut their slaves
loose afterwards, they couldn't. If all the mind slaves were like
this, they couldn't function in normal social lives without going
insane. They'd all be entirely imprinted sex toys with limited other
skills.
He shook his head with mild disgust. Why throw away other useful
skills? Maybe Charles already knew about this incredible waste. He
returned to examining the full grown woman, now toy.
He kept her under a mild control yet brought back the Jodi who
apparently had worked in the garment district. He reflected on what he
learned about her prior life, deciding the new one wasn't much worse.
Her life as no more than sex toy automaton would soon be over, but
she'd still serve some time as his personal pet for the evening.
He kept her at his side, setting her to believe she was his girlfriend
dating back to high school. She knew for certain they'd done
everything together a sex crazed couple could do, and she loved it.
She practically clung to him. He'd have to reset that as well.
On the way, he spotted the servant he handled delicately earlier. She
smiled as he slipped his hand into her crotch to serve as a come
along. He suddenly felt very hedonistic.
====
The bedroom sported a king sized bed, a bathroom off the side, enough
room for entertaining with furniture to do so. There were a plethora
of inanimate sex toys in a rack along the wall as well.
Bob closed the rack of sexual paraphenalia, snapping it shut to avoid
looking at some of the more esoteric devices. Implements of torture
were definitely not what Bob wanted.
He turned to look at the two women waiting by the couch. Jodi looked
confused, as though she'd been absent and only just returned. Her
maid's outfit continued to accent her shapely body. She simply wasn't
as relaxed as before.
The other servant was Naomi. She poised for whatever use he might
make of her. Her legs placed perfectly, her breasts straining the
silk blouse, she even tilted her head back nicely to display the soft
skin of her neck, available for his lips and teeth.
He allowed Naomi to preen for him. He began rooting around in her
mind the way he'd explored Jodi. In a matter of moments he'd changed
the severe impression forcing her into a robot to something more
closely approximating an erotic sex partner. He hoped.
She remained poised as before. The difference was that he was
unquestionably her owner. She was no longer a horny free for all
nympho, but instead a devoted lover determined to please her man. No
matter what he asked of her. He'd done what he could to increase her
sexual response, and improved on the sensitivity of her nervous system
wherever he could.
"Remain posed for me. Stand so your attractive sex stands out for
everyone to see."
She smiled, showing the slightest hint of her pearly whites behind the
moist red lips. She allowed her head slight tilts to either side,
eyes fluttering as though in ecstatic leisure.
He enjoyed the little display a few minutes, then turned to look at
Jodi. She was prepared to be used as well, although uncertain how
she'd gotten where she was. Her memories of the last two years had
been completely embedded in the forced automaton mind set. She could
recall the trip from the sitting room to here.
Good, he thought. It should get more pleasant now these two are real
people again rather than mere puppets. God almighty, what a mess.
"Jodi, why don't you come over here in front of Naomi. Face her," he
added. "She'd like to see you play with yourself."
Jodi complied with her instructions. Standing before the lightly
swaying Naomi, she lifted her skirt, revealing a patchy covering of
hair. She started to rub herself, looking Naomi in the eyes.
"Oh," Jodi mumbled, "oh my."
Bob slipped up behind Naomi. He reached around the front of her
clasping her breasts lightly with his hands.
"Oh yes!," the woman reacted by trying to grind her ass back against
his groin. His fingers worked her nipples, erect already, causing her
to issue animalistic moans.
Jodi's jaw hung slightly open, her tongue jammed into the corner of
her mouth as she strained fingering herself standing up. Her eyes were
hazed over with the passion of one striving for orgasm, pushing for
it.
Bob brought his right hand behind the woman he was physically using at
the moment. She tried to wriggle against him, but he pushed her bottom
forward and lifted her skirt. Gently, he slipped his middle finger
between the cheeks of her ass, and in her by the back door.
"Yike!" She tried to stand even higher on her toes as she yelped. The
heels she wore already giving her odd balance problems, the result was
a half stagger step forward. Bob stimulated her with the symbols at
her groin and she let out a low hiss of heated lust, staring straight
into the eyes of the woman heaving before her.
Jodi was busy rubbing her chest through the fabric of the flimsy
blouse the servants had to wear. Since she wore no bra, she had easy
access to her nipples without really undressing. Her sweat made all
the bumps of her nipples stick out visibly anyway, their stiff shapes
jabbing the wet fabric.
"Put your hands on her shoulders," Bob directed the woman under his
hands.
"Oh, uh huh," With a staggering step, Naomi placed her hands on the
other woman's shoulders, allowing her head to droop as she panted.
Bob stepped back, and peeled off his own clothing. His cock was erect,
the two waiting sex toys either gasping or panting out their lust.
The bed was large enough, he decided. Sitting at the edge, he felt the
surface of the cover. Finding it was soft and comfortable, he decided
not to strip it to the sheets.
The women were still standing together, Jodi frantically fingering
herself, Naomi panting with her head down. He reached out some symbols
and sent a flood of pleasure through Jodi.
"OH GOD!" squealed the blonde. Shuddering in her standing position,
she struggled not to fall. "YESSS, YESSS, YESSS!"
A moment latter, weak kneed and exhausted she whimpered as she
continued to try arousing herself with her fingers. He hadn't told her
to stop.
"Okay Jodi, you can stop now," Bob tried again to change her to allow
her more initiative. It was very difficult to fix the damage the other
members had done here. "Why don't the two of you come over here, lick
me, and give me a nice display of you at my cock?"
Smiling with a heated inner desire Naomi was the first to reach the
side of the bed. She bent, stopping to push her tongue into his mouth
in a passionate kiss. Then she knelt, and wrapped her long fingers
about his prick.
A pink tongue tip slipped out between her red lips and started to
caress the glans. The soft velvet touch left Bob drawing in his own
sharp breath.
Jodi was pulling her clothing off as she approached the bed. She took
off the skirt and the blouse. Her hair remained bouncy despite the
sweat from her earlier exertion. She was naked quickly, and bent
before him for a kiss, easily as passionate as Naomi's, breasts
swaying beneath her as she leaned.
Then she too bent to her knees, watching Naomi engulf the head of his
manhood in her mouth. Looking for an opening, she stretched her neck
forward, allowing her to nip at the shaft of his cock as the other
woman pulled back. Jodi tried to work her lips over his cock, pushing
Naomi aside with a sisterly kiss on her lips.
They traded turns, each one plunging the length of his prick with
their mouth, making tasty slurping sounds as they went. Occasionally
they paused to neck for a moment with each other. He placed his hands
on the tops of their heads, allowing the mouths to suck him in at
will. Neither had trouble with gag reflexes. They had been trained
to perform this way before.
He was pleased to watch as they would took breaks to duel with their tongues
over the trunk of his prick, both licking at him and each other. It
was time to do something else, he decided.
"Naomi, on your back, spread 'em," and he took Jodi's arm in his hand.
"Once she's in place, I want you to start licking her. Make her come
for me. But I want your dainty little tush up in the air. I'm going to
enter you while you eat."
"Oh God! I really want you in me."
"Me too," added Naomi.
"Oh, I'm sure you would. Play with your lovely tits sweetheart, I
want to see erect nipples while you're being eaten."
Jodi climbed up on the bed, placing her face in the spread crotch
before her. She began to lick and tease the outer lips with her
tongue. Naomi started to let her head roll as her pleasure rose.
Jodi's hips remained up, she kept her place on her knees.
Bob saddled up behind her, holding his prick in his hand. He rubbed
the swollen member against Jodi's slit. Finding the opening moist and
ready, slid in, enjoying the tightness around him. Once completely
in, he took hold of either side of her waist, and started his motion.
His thrusts pushed Jodi forward, pressing harder against Naomi's cunt.
Naomi sighed lightly. With both of her nipples between her fingers,
she looked down at the engorged flesh of her breasts. She was
engaged in watching her own arousal, abdomen writhing about with
partly involuntary response.
Jodi's tongue was trying to reach inside Naomi. She thrust it in as
far as possible but only got an inch or two past the outer lips. Her
round little chin would slip in a little too, bringing a gasp from the
woman beneath her face.
Bob watched the woman's head bobbing forward and back as he pumped
into her. Her hair floated along the other woman's thighs. He could
sense the light sensations of pleasure tickling up to Naomi's hips. It
had a soft luscious glow to it as the heat rose within the prone
woman.
"Ohnnggha!" Naomi moaned, mouth open, tongue showing behind her teeth
and lips. She repeated the moan, "Ohnnggha!"
His penis was as deep as he could plunge inside Jodi when he saw Naomi
begin to come. Her head twitched violently from the rising orgasm,
hair forming a halo on the bed beneath. Her shoulders arched, flinging
her head backwards.
"AYYIEEEE!" she screamed. "YESS!"
Jodi kept lapping away, whenever she could get in position at the
screaming woman's cunt. Bob was pounding into her harder than before,
enjoying the soft cushion her ass was providing him.
He could feel pulsing heat throbbing up from his scrotum. His prick
was swelling with the plunging semen, rushing to it's destiny. The
seed spilled into Jodi's burning pussy, heading deeper than his prick
could reach.
He used the symbol's to force an orgasm from Jodi, while he knew he
was still coming. He shot the symbols of fast and brutal release
through her cunt and abdomen.
Jodi's head flung back suddenly. She gripped the legs to either side
of her tightly in her arms, digging her fingers into the flesh with
intensity. Although Bob couldn't see her face, she was obviously
contorted into a mask of total release.
"OHHH. OHHH. OHHH GOD! FUCK ME! PLEASE FUCK! ME! AIEEEEEE!" she let
loose a stream of yelling while her head slammed from the right to the
left and back again. She struggled to pull away from Bob as she hit
what she thought was the peak. He didn't let her. He forced another
spasm through her body with a jolting thrust of his own final orgasm.
"Unnng!" grunted Bob.
"AIIIEEEEYAA GODDAMNIT YESS!" screamed Jodi.
"Ahhh," sighed Bob, coming down again.
Jodi collapsed forward onto Naomi, who pulled her close. They lay
there panting, all trying to catch their breath. Their sweat mingled
as they all bundled close together.
====
After lying there for a while, the women went off to the bathroom.
They refreshed their makeup, starting to straighten up the room
afterwards.
Bob watched with amusement as they went through the cycle of chores
they'd assigned themselves. They were still naked as the day they were
born. Yet they tried to make every movement enticing to him, habits of
service here at the Cabal's offices.
Watching Naomi's buns wag as she bent down to collect her shoes was an
exciting turn of events. She didn't simply bend, she sort of rolled
herself at the waist. The hint of curly pussy hair between her thighs
was an attractive reminder he hadn't really entered her yet.
He decided it was time to rectify this little matter.
"Naomi, I want you to bend over the couch so I can look at your lovely
little tush," he commanded.
Naomi shrugged, and set aside the work she was doing. She lay herself
across the back of the couch, head in the cushions, ass in the air.
Jodi stopped flattening out the bed sheets, curious if her attention
would soon be demanded as well.
"Is there any oil in the bathroom?," he asked her.
"Yes my love, I will get it for you," Jodi hurried from the room. Soon
she returned with a bottle of baby oil.
"Rub it into her cheeks, then into her ass."
Jodi turned, and poured the oil into her hand. She rubbed her hands
together for a few moments, then started to massage the oil over the
prostrate woman's ass. As she worked it into the crack, she started to
work a finger into Naomi's little rosette. She added a touch more oil.
Bob remembered exploring the exposed tush with his own fingers
earlier. A smile crossed his face. He picked up the oil and began to
massage his presently limp cock. Then he changed his mind.
"Jodi, come get me hard for Naomi."
Jodi looked back, and smoothly went from feeling the other woman to
rubbing the oil along his prick. Her fingers glided along the
hardening prick, stiffening from contact with her hand. Bob let out a
low groan of his own.
Jodi smiled knowingly at him, pleased with her arousal of his cock.
Happy she had in some way pleased her man.
Now stiff, he stepped to Naomi's bottom. Prying her cheeks apart, he
exposed the small hole, her back door. Naomi squirmed enough to move
her head, allowing her to see Bob behind her. He gave her his best
reassuring smile, and rubbed the head of his prick against the little
pucker.
"Yike!," she squealed as he pushed in the first inch of the head of
his cock. She writhed a bit more, either from discomfort or from
pleasure, he couldn't tell without probing her right now. He decided
to enjoy her without snooping for a moment. He pressed in further,
letting the tight muscles ease back after each inch.
"Oh my god, it's huge, oooh noo," the woman groaned.
Bob knew he wasn't huge, but she obviously felt he was.
"I, uh, I've never taken someone like this before," she told him. He
plunged another inch in. "OOOH!"
Her eyes were wide open, surprise showed across her brow. He wondered
if it were true. The idea she would be a sex toy here and no one used
her this way before surprised him. He didn't think it mattered too
much though.
He plunged into her to the hilt. She gasped again, tears at the
corners of her eyes.
Building an in and out motion took a few minutes. She wasn't
accustomed to his prick in her ass. She began to respond however, with
some excitement as the activity became more rhythmic.
"oh yes! more," she mumbled into the couch.
Jodi stepped around to sit on the couch. A moment later she was
playing with Naomi's nipples, pinned against the cushions.
Bob could feel his balls slapping against the outer cunt lips beneath
the entry he'd chosen. Each slopping sound elicited another gasp from
the woman he was using. She tried to press back against him, but the
position she was in left her completely helpless.
He pounded against the helpless and frantic woman. Pistoning into her
nether hole, Bob felt her clamping down on him. Her countenance had
taken on the glow of someone approaching ecstatic freedom.
"Unngh," the moan rose from her throat, "oooh yesss."
Jodi bent to Naomi's exposed nipple, sucking it into her mouth.
"AAAH YESS," the pinned woman shuddered violently. Then she pealed out
a stronger scream, "AIAIIIIIEEEEEYESSSS!"
Bob found the surge come up within himself as well. The clenching
sensations of orgasm brought a tightening pulse, thrusting the seed of
his body into her.
Bob grunted out again. Pushing into her again forcefully. Then he
stopped, embedded within her ass.
"Now tell me how you feel, Naomi."
"Weak. Very, very weak," she muttered sleepily.
Jodi looked pretty satisfied with the whole thing. Pleased at the
outcome.
Bob finally withdrew to the sounds of whimpering from Naomi. She
hadn't wanted him to leave her. Bob smiled at her delightful floating
afterglow.
"You better get dressed," he told the girls. Then he wandered to the
bathroom to get a shower. Standing under the running water would be
very relaxing about now.
====
"Excuse me, but I don't get it."
"What don't you get, Jones?"
"Why we stopped the scanning, the electronics work just fine."
Thadeous put down his pencil, and leaned back at the desk.
"Sit down."
Jones pulled one of the stiff wooden chairs over from the work table.
He brushed the seat. Then he sat down smoothly, facing his boss.
Thadeous leaned forward again to speak.
"We know where the spark is. He's in New York. We also know he's
virtually undetectable to scanners."
"Yes, but we can pick up other sparks. All we need to do is pull our
staff away from any area he comes near."
"You miss the point. If he can evade scanners, other sparks can too.
We can't have any of them finding some of our people. No, it's better
to allow financial to hunt. We caught more that way before in any
case."
"Oh." He pondered a moment. "It's an awfully low probability event.
Isn't it an acceptable risk?"
"When we still had the facilities of the research center, yes. Now as
we scrape for every qualified staffer, no."
"What about this spark, this Robert Lawrence? Shouldn't we do
something about him?"
"No need. My instructions say he will be taken care of. Don't sweat
it. You worry about getting the staff running. I'll worry about the
loose spark. okay?"
Glumly, Jones nodded.
"We've got other work to concentrate on," Thadeous repeated softly.
====
Betty greeted Bob at the door. She looked freshly fucked, having that
glow about her of one who has recently come.
Bob grinned. The girls must have been playing. She wore a narrow
bathing suit that covered her just enough to be decent if a stranger
had been outside the door. He found her sweet ass still enticed him.
"Well. What's going on?"
"Oh," she turned red, still little priggish. "We've been playing."
"Tell me who started it."
She turned her head in embarrassment.
"I was cleaning the room, it wasn't my fault. Really."
"Oh yeah?"
"Randi started it," she pouted. "All I did was walk around her while I
was cleaning."
"So what happened?"
"She tried to grab me. I told her I was busy," Betty stuck her nose up
in the air. "The silly dyke didn't like my answer."
Bob looked at her, wondering if the adjustments he'd made were wearing
off. Then he realized she'd been teasing Randi on purpose.
"So what did she do?"
"Went to Bambi to complain." She pouted again.
"And?"
"Bambi made me eat Randi out, right then and there." She looked down,
grinning, but shuffling her feet. "Then she fucked me twice with those
toys you bought us." Her grin got bigger with this last statement.
"Good. Oughta teach you not to tease if you won't follow through."
"But I'd have been happy to make it with Randi," she protested. "I
just wanted a little more, um, playing first."
"I don't think Randi sees it as playing, sweetheart. Teasing her only
gets her real hot and anxious."
"oh."
"Where are Randi and Bambi now?"
"Bambi got excited watch me and Randi. She's making Randi."
Bob laughed aloud. Couldn't leave the girls alone for a minute.
"And Cindy? That tasty little oriental girl I brought home?"
"She's in the hot tub." She pouted again. "You said we couldn't play
with her until you took her."
"Thank you. Why don't you go clean up. I'd like you in something more
concealing for a while. Find some nice way to dress to turn me on."
Spritely, she turned on her heels. "Yes sir, master sir."
Grinning Bob walked towards his bedroom. Pounding and thumping,
combined with the sounds of two women gasping or moaning with lust
reached his ears.
He stepped inside the bedroom.
On the floor, not even in the bed, the large bosomed woman was pinned
underneath the brunette. Randi had Bambi pinned at the wrists. The
short haired woman was thrashing about as Randi, wearing a strap on
dildo, fucking away madly at brown cunt beneath her.
"Oh! God! YES! YES! YESSSS!" came screeching from Bambi. The
brunette grunted from the exertion of fucking her. "YESS!"
"oooohhh," came the sigh from the orgasming woman as she started to
wind down from the pounding she'd taken.
Randi looked up and noticed Bob. She grinned proudly, as if to say
"look what I did." She kept Bambi pinned however, dildo pushed deeply
in her pussy.
He smiled back.
There just had to be a suitable punishment for this frivolous
behavior. He wondered just how many times he could get it up in one
night.
====
"What do you mean, you met him!?"
Chi was confused by the voice from his phone.
"He came, we chatted about how we all cooperate with each other. I
even gave him a gift as honor requires..."
"You fool!" There followed a brief pause, and a sound that could have
been a breaking pencil. "You were told to kill off any contact with
the assassin. Now he'll backtrack, you schmuck!"
"I do not understand. I thought he was a member of the
organization...," Chi looked with irritation at the phone, now dead in
his hand.
If they didn't want him to befriend the tall man, why did they give
him his address, he thought.
****
Ah what fun. I gotta finish this thing so I can go play with some
other fetish for a while...
I know everyone was wondering where I was... sorry, but I've gotten
busy doing other things lately. I'm going to finish this, honest.
-Blackie.
A clergyman's bride, very chaste,
Who wanted a child in great haste,
Said: "Mother, I grieve,
But I'll never conceive-
I just can't get use to the taste."
--
I will ignore all requests for: reposts, e-mailing parts, ftp/gif/archive
sites, and subscription requests. These stories get deleted immediately after
they are posted. For more info on the ARCHIVE postings, read the FAQ posted
bi-monthly to a.s.s.d. And don't send me chain mail- I'll notify your sysadmin.
Path: holytoy!seunet!seunet!sunic!news.funet.fi!news.eunet.fi!EU.net!howland.reston.ans.net!vixen.cso.uiuc.edu!laff
From: laff@sal.cs.uiuc.edu (Joshua A Laff)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: ARCHIVE: the-book-13.Z
Message-ID: <2tuaeb$bqv@vixen.cso.uiuc.edu>
Date: 18 Jun 1994 08:15:07 GMT
Reply-To: laff@sal.cs.uiuc.edu
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Organization: University of Illinois at Urbana
Lines: 1018
NNTP-Posting-Host: sal.cs.uiuc.edu
This story is another from the archives, and is not written by me.
Requests for just about anything concerning these posts will be ignored.
See the FAQ in a.s.s.d for more information. And stop sending talk
requests. Even when I'm logged in to this posting site, I usually
have the window closed, and if I don't, it's because I'm WORKING
From: an25611@anon.penet.fi (-Blackie)
Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1993 22:13:40 UTC
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Booked to the Rafters (_The Book_ pt 13)
Another in the tale of _The Book_, a mind control story. If you
haven't read the story from the beginning, don't try to start it
here. Get the rest first from one of the mailserver archives, not
me...
.... brief description here, mind control implies non-consensual for those
without a clue, f/f m/f, pretty straight stuff.... If you expect an orgy
in this episode, forget it. I'm moving the plot forward and expect
to close this thing off in a couple or so episodes.
All characters are strictly fictional, any resemblance to anyone
living or dead is purely coincidental.
Email is gleefully welcome. Most do get replies, I'm afraid some have
slipped through the cracks. In some cases, email has been known to
vanish into the craw of the net.beast. Do not email me to get copies
of previous episodes.
Hit 'n' to skip this.
Copyright (c) 1993, Oogle Bird Enterprises.
All rights reserved, permission granted for a single printed copy for
personal use only. Transmission of this story in electronic form is
permitted provided no alterations are made to text, and this message
is included in its entirety.
_Booked to the Rafters_
Jorge was sitting alone, watching departure times for the trains.
A man wearing a mind shield had led him here from the Sears Tower. For
some reason, instead of getting a plane to Denver, the man was taking
a berth on Amtrak.
Jorge finally went to the phone to try reaching Charles again. He
found it impossible to reach the Cabal's enforcer for two days now.
When the secretary at the New York office once again told him Charles
wasn't there, he had to consider other options.
After some thought he dialed another New York number.
"Hello?," the voice was a woman's whiskey tenor, husky and delicious.
"I'd like to speak with Bob."
"He went uptown on business," she replied. "Can I help you, or take a
message?"
"This Bambi?"
"Yes, who is this?"
"It's Jorge. Tell him I'm on my way to Denver. I should be there by
tonight. It's the Institute..." He paused wondering if he should have
said that, too late now. "I think he should come too."
"I'll tell him. He'll come. Where will you be staying?"
"There's an office in Boulder he can contact. He should be able to get
the number from our New York people."
"Very well. Anything else?"
"No. Good-bye."
"Later then..."
The clatter of the telephone was distant as she hung up. Jorge decided
to go to the airport and fly after all. He walked past a couple in
romantic embrace, and headed for the street.
Almost predictably there were no cabs around.
Jorge didn't have time to wait. He borrowed a passing car and driver.
O'Hare was always such a mess to get to anyway, why wait?
====
Walking this street made Bob uncomfortable.
It wasn't the street so much as the people here. He was far more out
of place here than he expected. Fear rose inside, coming from the
place where he drew himself to when he was not in control.
Even the Voice didn't make Bob feel as distant from the rest of the
world as this, the sensation of being the only white face in a large
herd of people. There was a surging current of animosity as well. And
that was just what he could see in the faces, the minds were sometimes
worse.
The fear he hadn't felt when being shot at in Brooklyn swiftly gripped
his chest here.
He had diverted three gangs so far, seeing him as easy prey. Nothing
would save him from a sniper he didn't spot in time though. He saw no
police either, rather... he had seen four officers. They gathered
together as though in numbers their own risk was mitigated by the
other targets.
The police would only get in his way, attracting even more unwanted
attention.
He walked up from the edge of Central Park. It was a nice day, until
he noticed his tension growing. He wondered if a black in a crowd of
white's felt a similar undercurrent of hatred. He never noticed, but
hadn't looked for it before.
The poverty he saw didn't escape him. Many of these people had nothing
to lose, consequently his sense of personal danger rose further. He
was too well dressed to be here, not to mention he already looked like
an easy mark.
He drew in on himself, vowing never to come back after this exercise.
With some small relief, he found the church he sought and climbed the
steps. It was nestled between a pair of brownstones, it's windows
either broken or shuttered over with plywood. The grafitti leapt out,
belying the purpose of the structure. A small, hand painted sign read
"Church of Jesus Christ Lord".
He tried to smile, but knew somehow it had come out as a fractured
caricature of a grin. The foreboding from the surroundings kept his
reactions subdued.
The doors opened to his touch, a quiet stillness within.
He found himself entering a small entry hall in far better condition
than the exterior of the building. A small locked donation box sat
chained to a table beside the entrance to a chapel.
An eerie sense climbed his spine, the chapel hall was empty. Some
candles were lit on a table to the right of the pews. An intense
sweet odor overrode a dusty, moist aroma of infrequent cleaning.
He examined some of the literature, finding explanations of the rigors
of baptism and other related theology, a 'retreat' boot camp for
Christians, and other assorted brotherhood forms of worship. He
smiled, these were familiar, even if the location had him on edge.
Spotting a sign labeled "office", he followed the arrow through a
door. A set of stairs led down to a long hallway, the office clearly
labeled halfway down the hall. Stepping up to the opaque glass door,
he entered without hesitation.
In the dark room, on the floor, amid piles of scribbled on paper, sat
the man he knew he was looking for. A paunchy fellow dressed in black
with a cleric's collar, sat clasping a pen in his fist, trying to
draw a picture on the back of a letter he'd found.
"Ahwannaplaysomebodynow," burbled the grown man. He rolled to the
side. It became apparent from the stench and large wet spot on the
floor he had messed himself.
Bob shook his head. He was too late.
Looking about he saw two walls were covered with theological works.
One wall without books had a number of framed certificates, degrees
from seminaries, and a Masters in Social Sciences from the University
of Michigan. Photos, also on the wall, showed an affluent family in a
reasonably suburban neighborhood. Relatives probably.
Bob reflected, the man poured his life into helping the local needy,
only to be injured in this hideous manner by Bob's new enemy. He
walked over to the desk. Finding a phone, he dialed the police. At
least they could find someone to take over for the poor man.
Bob tried to probe the black minister, only to find nothing left but
childhood. The institute may have come up with a way to do this, but
he doubted it. Either the guy went around the bend real suddenly, or
someone with Voice erased this man's mind.
Charles would have to listen now. This could attract exactly the wrong
kind of attention, if it happened often enough.
Bob couldn't understand is why the guy wasn't just dead. There was no
indication his mysterious enemy had any compunction against murder so
far.
Bob turned to leave. He took a few steps towards the door.
"Nastyladylefttoo." It was a child's tones in a man's voice.
The chill returned to Bob's spine as he heard this. He turned back.
The no longer adult eyes were intent on Bob, a fear of being left
alone shone there. Instinctively, Bob shuddered.
"Tell me about the lady, little boy." Bob tried to force his voice into
a friendly tone.
"Lady gone." Bob probed the memory rising with the statement. There
was a woman, in a dark black dress, wearing a veil. How very apropos
for this cloak and dagger stuff. The oddly twisted man on the floor
could remember her perfume, an intense sweet smell. She had shoulder
length black hair in a 50's style perm, and wore low black work heels.
This victim remembered her laughing in a deep, almost masculine tone as
she left him on the floor, putting a large pistol into her purse. Bob
thought of the sweet smell as he came into the Church. He must have
just missed her.
Bob shuddered. Why would a woman from Cabal want him dead?
He waited for the police. A child shouldn't be left alone.
====
The sunlight streamed in from the apartment's western windows.
House plants had turned their leaves into the warm beams, silent in
photosynthesis. The number of planters caused the potted soil smell to
prevail over other musty odors.
Outside, it was a warm day. The trees on the hillside were moving in
the Colorado breezes rolling down from the mountains, but the warmth
would penetrate Diane if she wandered out.
She wasn't going to wander out though. Heather wanted her nearby, and
Diane desperately wanted to be with Heather. Her soul longed to
frolic in the clean country air, to look over the beautiful vista
below and soak up sunshine.
Heather reached out and stroked her hair. Diane shuddered with
excitement at the attention. Her back tingled with the hope her
mistress would command her services. She dared not ask, Heather would
simply grin, then go do something else.
"Hello my pretty."
"Hello my love," she replied.
"I think I want you to eat me, my pretty," the red head almost moaned,
"Would you like that?"
"Oh my love, I would like anything you enjoy."
"Well, you aren't going to eat me now, my pretty."
Diane's heart fell. Heather enjoyed teasing her like this. On occasion
she made Diane wait hours, teasing her with those long auburn locks,
the smooth curves of her body, and an occasional hint of a kiss.
Heather seemed to get great pleasure in using her as a foil for her
desire. She sat still, awaiting Heather's pleasure. The telepath's
fingers slid down Diane's shoulders, lingering at the raised line of
her bra. A pout crossed the freckled face Diane lusted after.
"You shouldn't be wearing this today."
Diane quickly pulled her t-shirt over her head. A suggestion from
Heather was a command to her. In moments she had the bra clasp open,
drawing the bra off too. Her full breasts fell free, swaying
a little as she moved.
As she reached for the t-shirt to put it back on, Heather grabbed her
by the wrist. The soft, yet strong grip made Diane freeze, waiting
the woman's pleasure.
Heather held her pinned by the wrist, with her other hand she traced
little circles around the exposed nipples. Diane drew in a gasp as
each nipple sharply rose to attention. Her shoulders instinctively
pulled back, pressing her ample bosom forward towards the exploring
fingers.
"Desperate little pretty, you want to be my toy, don't you?"
Diane looked into her lover's eyes.
"I long for your every touch."
Heather smiled as she stroked the nipples of Diane's luscious
breasts. Diane wavered a bit, her eyes fluttered as the pleasurable
sensations grew outward from the molesting fingers.
She moaned, almost imperceptively. Heather grinned at the helpless
response. The fingers played across the pale round skin of the
ex-reporter's mounds. Sensations drew her into the hazy joy of
arousal. Her body swayed in almost involuntary ecstasy.
As quickly as it began, it stopped. Only the fingers around her arm
remained. Diane whimpered, frustrated by the teasing touches she
received.
Heather pulled her over to the porch doors, making her face outward. The
courtyard below was empty, but Diane knew it didn't matter. Heather
opened the french style doors one handed, forcing Diane through with
the other hand.
Diane remained aroused, excited by any contact with Heather. The
redhead's attention was everything to her right now, the rest of the
world didn't even exist.
"Hold the rail," Heather commanded.
Diane leaned forward, taking hold of the stone railing before her. Her
breasts swung slightly in the open air, but only Heather was there to
see.
Heather reached about to the snaps on Diane's jeans. Undoing them, she
then yanked the faded blue cloth over Diane's waist and down to her
knees. Diane shuddered in excited anticipation.
"Oh my pretty, you left your panties off for me," Heather sounded
pleased.
"Yes my love."
Heather rubbed her own crotch against Diane's naked bottom. The
roughness of the clothe sharply accented the sensation. Diane moaned
with need.
"Wait here pretty."
Diane could feel Heather leave her. But she held the rail, just as
directed. She would not disobey her lover. A few moments later she
could feel, or rather sense a presence behind her again.
"Stand still, my pretty, but part your legs for me."
Diane sighed, and moved to obey. She was more than happy to have
Heather use her, but when Heather left it sometimes meant she was to
satisfy someone else. She'd begun to dread servicing the needs of the
Jones man.
While she was standing exposed for Heather's leisure entertainment, a
large black car pulled up in the courtyard. The driver rushed out to
open the door for someone.
Heather started to rub something against Diane's outer lips. Then it
was thrust inside. A thick and long object had been inserted into her
moist vagina and behind it, Heather's waist slapped against her ass.
"OOOOH!" Diane was quite startled. She gasped out another surprised
syllable as Heather started the motions of fucking her with the toy
penis.
Below the driver helped someone in a black dress and a veiled hat step
out of the car. The woman's dark hair ended at her shoulders. She
looked up at the naked women on the balcony.
"Unng!" Diane was beyond her own control. She held the rail tightly,
her knuckles whitening as she bore down.
"Oh yes, pretty will come for me, won't you pretty?"
Diane knew she was expected to talk to Heather throughout her orgasm.
If she failed to do so, Heather might not touch her for a long time.
"God yes, oooh, lover take me, please, unnng! Please let me come for
you, let me give you my, oooooh!"
Diane could scarcely keep her eyes open. Her body rocked against the
phallus substitute. Head down, hair rolling before her eyes, Diane
ground herself back as Heather pumped forward.
"Oh, fuck me, please. Unnng! Please!"
Heather reached around and touched Diane. Diane felt the finger hit
the tender flesh at the top of her pussy. Sensations of flaming lust
rocked her, a jolt of energy pressing her into orgasmic spasms.
"YESSS, MAKE ME AAAAGGGHHH!" Her convulsions rocked through her again
and again. Her breasts swung wildly, the sensational feeling simply
lifting her to her tip toes. Heather was moaning herself.
Below the woman looking up simply shook her head and entered the
building.
====
Warmth poured down from the sun, seeping into the pores of Jorge's
skin.
Jorge was by the pool side. He had caught up with the Institute man
at the train station. The man came to this hotel and settled in. So
Jorge was staying here too.
This hotel was something of a resort. The tennis courts and golf
course were substantial. The pro shops advertised lessons on signs in
the lobby. There were three restaurants and a nightclub. Jorge noted
the number of attractive young women wandering around, most of them
seemed unattached.
Jorge had kept an eye on the man with the mind shield. He was
discovering for himself the worst part of following someone. Never
before had he been forced to wait on someone he already located. He
was bored waiting for his subject to actually move on. So he enlisted
a little help.
The hotel staff was soon set up to let him know if the man did
anything. Jorge would be able to relax and to enjoy the hotel
services. The services he ignored so far were those of the lovely
bikini clad college students staying poolside. This was something he
could correct.
Jorge smiled to himself. All these goodies, and time to play too.
A very attractive brunette was practicing her dives from the high
board. He'd been watching her for a little while. Her athletic body
was muscular, her tan simply spectacular. Jorge enjoyed the midair
spins, flips, and summersaults she executed.
He watched as she brushed aside two young men, separately. They
couldn't draw her attention away from diving. She seemed to be mostly
interested in getting a two and a half flip perfected. The young men
seemed rather upset before moving on to other potential love
interests.
Jorge gathered his towel and walked over to the lithe athlete.
"Hello, my name is Jorge."
"Good for you, Jorge. I'm busy. Beat it." Her breasts weren't quite as
small as they looked from a distance. He looked at her puppy brown
eyes, the flush of exertion had made her cheeks a little red. It
couldn't be the sun.
"Come to the bar in five minutes. Look for me there."
"What? uh, oh." Jorge saw his controls sink in. She started for her
towel. It would take more than five minutes for her to change. But he
didn't mind. He went off to his room for clothing.
====
Bob dropped his garment bag on the bed. The flight was reasonably
quick, he'd bumped some first class passenger for the trip. He had
decided he needed the comfort this time.
The hotel he'd found was adequate for his purposes. The room
contained a king size bed, the rooms to either side empty. They would
stay empty too, the manager took care to ensure Bob's privacy for him.
He was a little displeased with the arrangements. Bambi had done the
best she could, but he couldn't reach Charles. Mostly he was unhappy
he was the only one who knew about the tragic turn of events in
Harlem.
Charles should know about the damaged minister he found. The police
would never find anyone responsible. To them it looked like another
man gone insane in an insane place. Only Bob and the mysterious
female visitor knew different.
Now, outside of Denver, all Bob could do was worry about what Jorge
had found. The mountains loomed in the distance. His hotel was
supposed to be near the Cabal site Jorge indicated. Bob didn't know,
really didn't care.
A short drive, a long drive, they were the same. Some poor sot would
lose part of his day driving Bob where he needed to go.
====
Jorge chose a table near the door.
He checked his watch. It was about 10 minutes before the diver,
whose name he hadn't gotten, wandered in the bar. She spotted him
immediately and joined him.
Her hair was still wet, but had been combed out down her back to the
sturdy looking shoulder blades. She had full red lips and a stern gaze
over her thin chiseled nose. Her muscular shoulders, doubtlessly
developed from swimming, were now covered by a simple t-shirt. Her
jeans concealed the lovely legs Jorge had admired from the pool side.
"Hello," he said.
"What do you want," she snapped. But she sat down with him anyway.
Jorge smiled. Then he waved to the waitress, a pert woman in her late
thirties. The waitress came quickly to the table.
"Bring my friend here," he scanned quickly through her drinking
tastes, "a Banana Daquiri?"
Stunned at his apparent knowledge of her drinking habits, she simply
nodded.
"And I'll have a White Russian." The waitress rushed away as quickly
as she'd arrived.
"How did you know?" asked the swimmer.
"Does it matter?"
"Damn right it does."
"No, I don't think so," he smiled.
"I'm leaving," she tried to rise. Jorge wasn't going to let her
though. She made the slightest turn to leave but settled right back
into her seat.
Jorge smiled.
As the young woman looked frantically about, the waitress came with
their drinks. She smiled down on the two of them as she deposited the
glasses neatly on cardboard coasters, then turned to leave.
"Wait!" The swimmer seemed frantic, "he's forcing me to stay, and I
want to go."
The waitress turned and looked at Jorge.
"That true, sir?"
"Yes, it is. Now run along and take care of your other customers."
"Yes, sir. Sorry dearie, he is in charge here."
Jorge finished adjusting the waitress as she wandered into the
kitchen. His new friend was stunned.
"What's your name," he finally asked the stunned brunette.
"Jessica." She tried to remain silent, but the name came out anyway.
"Jessica Bays."
"Come Jessica." He took a sip of his drink, then pushed it aside.
Standing he took her by the hand, leading her out to the lobby. They
walked past several other people, couples arm in arm, a few luggage
burdened fellows, and into the elevator. When the doors closed they
were alone.
"I've been trying to do this differently."
She had no idea what he meant. There was no understanding what had
happened to her. She wanted nothing to do with this man, but found
herself going and doing as he directed. It was incomprehensible.
They got off the elevator and walked through the hall to his room.
The electronic key opened the lock, and he pulled her in behind him.
"Open the curtains Jessica."
She walked to the windows and pulled at the chain, drawing back thick
drapes. Sunlight spilled through the room, a large suite. They were in
an entertainment room, TV and couch set up for guests.
"What now? When will you let me go?" She was astounded her voice would
still allow her to verbalize her inner desires.
Jorge took Jessica by the hand and pulled her to him. He lifted her
chin in one hand and kissed her. She found herself kissing him back,
not what she wanted to do. She could only watch herself acting without
any resistance.
She shivered as he lifted the t-shirt over her head. Her breasts rose
in a more shapely manner with the breath she drew sharply in. The
nipples popped erect, showing their round shapes.
Her hands moved aside for him as he reached for her Jean's snaps. The
zipper came undone with a loud rip sound. She could feel moistness in
her groin, and the skin tighten under her bra. She was very aroused
now, but could not understand any reason for it.
Jorge pushed the jeans down to Jessica's ankles. Without knowing why,
pushed her sneaks off and stepped out of the legs of her pants. His
hands worked the eyelets of her bra and soon that was aside too.
"Yes, yes. You should do quite nicely. Turn around for me."
With her panties still on, she raised her hands to behind her neck,
thrust her chest out and slowly turned in place. She simply kept
turning, his fingers reached out to touch from time to time, but he
didn't stop her.
"Good," he smiled. "Very good. Sit down a minute."
She sat on the couch, crossing her legs, but not folding her arms
across her chest as she would have liked.
Jorge was not thrilled with this, he walked over and pulled her legs
apart. She sat now, her panties still on, but with her sex exposed as
he wished.
"I have to make a call. Then we'll play."
He picked up the phone.
====
A small private mansion, stocked to the hilt with mind slaves, proved
to be the local Cabal office.
Bob shook his head as he walked through to the offices. The female
staff was entirely dressed in revealing little outfits leaving nothing
to the imagination, their nipples and crotch fur on display for
everyone. The male staff were outfitted in paramilitary gray
uniforms, carrying weapons.
It was obvious what the priorities were of the local Cabal people.
Somehow he doubted there were any female Cabal members locally.
When he found no messages from Jorge, he settled into the library to
read while he waited. On occasion he had to fend off women programmed
to go into sexual frenzy for any man who wasn't one of the guards. He
was disturbed by the lack of subtlety, but unhappy taking anyone he
hadn't specifically seized for himself.
After a while, the call came. A blonde in a skimpy leather bodice came
to him with a cordless phone. She stood along side him as he spoke. It
was apparent she strongly aroused by her proximity to him.
"Hello?"
"Bob? This is Jorge."
"Where the hell are you? I've been waiting for at least two or three
hours here..."
"The Sanibad Resort. It's fairly close by where you are now."
"Okay, I'll come right over."
"Listen, I followed a man with a shield to this place and I'm
watching for him to leave. He hasn't done anything here."
"So, if you follow him out, leave a note at the desk."
"Yeah, all right. I'm not used to coordinating with anyone, so if we
screw up how do I reach you?"
"Either here or the Brentwood Hotel."
"Right. Um, I haven't been able to reach Charles, how about you?"
"Me either. I'm a little worried. A bunch of people have been trying
to kill me and I think there's a Cabal member behind it."
"Why is that?"
"One of my leads had his mind erased. I'm pretty sure only a Cabal
member could manage it. The Institute people aren't so subtle."
"Maybe, but I thought you said Bambi had been programmed pretty slick
by the Institute?"
"I'm beginning to think the Cabal connection may be behind the
Institute as well."
Silence came from the hand held phone. Jorge was thinking it over.
When he finally spoke again it was much softer.
"Tell me you don't mean that."
"Huh? Oh, I mean it. Jorge, the people at the Institute used
brainwashed Voices or as they called us, Sparks to adjust people. They
had a big brute of a control machine to do it to sparks. I've since
noticed most of the adjustments by even mildly talented Cabal members
are blunt and unbelievably blatant. Only the better quality ones are
subtle enough to leave controls such as I found in Bambi. I don't see
how it could be any but a handful of Cabal members. I doubt the
Institute has captured anyone so skillful."
The silence came again. In the background, Bob could hear sounds such
as might be another person moving about in the room with Jorge.
"Oh, shit. I hope you're wrong. I dearly hope you are wrong."
"Oh, shit is right. I'm not making a mistake, Jorge. We need Charles
to help us find this creep, and the sooner the better."
"Yeah, I'll try a few more numbers before I to back out. I'd intended
to have some more fun," a flesh meeting flesh slap was audible
through the earpiece, "but it can wait."
"Good, I'll be there as soon as I can. Bye."
"So long."
Bob pressed the off button and looked up at the waiting woman. She
was panting above him, her hips moving in squeezing motions. The
visible nipples were stiff, her displayed groin seemed visibly wet.
He shook his head and made an adjustment to her immediately. Now,
unless someone else had overheard, only he and Jorge knew what he
suspected.
"Thank you, return the phone."
She walked away. He winced at the crude controls laid over her mind,
but left them as they were. She still panted as she left.
A car. He'd need another car. This time he would drive himself.
====
Jorge spent a while longer on the phone, but couldn't locate Charles.
To hell with Charles, he thought, and started to play with the nipples
of his new toy, Jessica.
She gasped, a surge of desire spreading outwards from Jorge's touch.
"Get those stupid panties off." Jorge pulled his own clothing off as
she promptly removed the only remaining article she wore.
Jorge walked around behind her as she stood waiting. The naked woman
was lovely, her shoulders firm and strong, the long dark hair still
wet down her bare back.
He touched her shoulder gently, raising goose bumps along the curves
there. He pulled back again and touched her elbow. She shuddered, an
excitement he had triggered but not programmed. She ducked her chin
down towards her chest.
"You like being touched by men, don't you?"
"No. You seem to excite me, but usually I don't like anyone touching
me."
He stroked a fingertip along her hips. The way she swayed in response
showed an interest in his contact. She'd become far more aroused than
he had adjusted her to be.
His finger reached out for her nose. She tried to lick at it, as
though it was candy held just beyond her reach. He tried to fathom the
change in her. All he could see was building excitement. A thrill of
being possessed against her will.
"Ahhh. You want to be forced." Realization came up within him, she had
a deeper desire than he'd explored. Since she realized she was
permitted no choices, the desire had triggered within her to serve. An
interesting submissive response, only unusual in her resistance up
until now.
"No. I," she gulped. She knew it was true. Her control was
relinquished completely, he might not have to do anything more to her
mind. "I suppose so."
He touched the tip of her right nipple. She tried to lean into him,
letting out a light moan. Her eyes limply closed, mouth open a
fraction, the pink of her tongue rested against the tips of her teeth.
As he glided his finger down the length of her rib cage to her tummy,
she swayed against the light pressure he had exerted. She swallowed,
and took in a deep breath as he brushed the damp pubic hairs.
She panted for a moment as he drew away, her eyes closed and her chin
jutting forward seeking further contact. He reached up and brushed
across her brow with two fingers this time. She simply waved her head
after his touch as though trying to shake off a chill.
He put his forefinger to her lips. She kissed it, and he pushed past
the soft red flesh to feel the tongue beyond. The tongue played along
the length of his finger with a desire bent to arouse him as well.
Jorge took her by the hand and led her to the bedroom. He sat at the
edge and bent her down to his penis. She quickly understood what he
wanted. Yet she waited, looking up at his eyes.
"Lick it, suck me off," he spoke with command in his voice.
Her tongue became the central attraction to him as she wrapped it
about his prick as best she could. Her red lips began to roll back and
forth as she worked him into her mouth. He could feel the dextrous
tongue trying to circle the tip of his prick. Her eyes locked onto
what she was doing. Her strong hands started to massage the trunk
of his cock where she hadn't gotten him into her mouth.
He watched as she began to bob her face in and out of his crotch,
slipping farther and farther over his manhood with each plunge. He
swallowed as the heat rose in his scrotum. He grabbed her head and
pulled her into him, trying to force his way deeper, she struggled to
help him without choking. Soon he grunted as the semen erupted from
his prick and into her throat.
She gulped, a dribble of the fluids escaping the edge of her mouth.
"Get on the bed." He watched her scramble up to lie on her back. She
was very willing to move as he directed now. Manipulating her could
be done, but she knew refusal would only result in her body performing
as commanded.
Jorge touched her curly hairs, feeling the moisture building there.
She tried to squeeze her groin open and shut when he stopped touching
her. He smiled at her apparent desire.
"You want something from me, hmm little swimmer?"
"God yes. I don't believe it, but I want you to make love to me."
"I'm already making love to you." He drew his fingers along her legs.
"What more do you want?"
"I want you to," she hesitated. Her face turned pink and she looked to
the side. "I want you to enter me."
"Enter you?" He placed his fingers on the tender flesh of her vaginal
lips. She almost jumped, gasping and heaving. "Why should I enter
you?"
"I really need you to, please come inside me." Her voice was pleading,
no longer fearful of what he'd done to control her actions.
"I already came inside you." He grinned, and manipulated the small
lump of flesh at the top of her groin. She writhed, swinging her head
about on the bed.
"nooo, I want you," she muttered between the deep groaning sounds...
Her waist was rolling in smooth motions, a rhythm of lust and deep
arousal.
"Okay." He knelt between her legs. She lifted the curved calves of her
legs up, bending her knees and pulling them up towards her chest. She
bent her head forward to watch him. Her jaw was open slightly from
the excitement, but her eyes showed genuine desire, a need to feel the
penetration, to plunge into her sexual pleasure.
Jorge steered himself into her, edging the cock head slowly between
the lips of her pussy. Once he could feel the grip of surrounding
tissue, Jorge shoved his prick all the way in.
Jessica gasped, flinging her head back and releasing her legs to wrap
around Jorge. Jorge held still, embedded deeply within the confines of
the woman's sex. She was still rolling her head about madly. Her hair
would have swirled all about if it wasn't wet. Jorge could see her
teeth were tightly clenched although her lips were parted wide, almost
as if she was squelching a painful scream. Her eyes were wide open,
face tightly clenched as well. The flood of sensations seemed to be
driving her to an unusual intensity.
Jorge began pumping into her. He matched the rhythmic motion her hips
were making. She grunted and moaned each sound bringing out another
level of urgency. Her desire was driving her on, he could feel the
heat of passion emanating from her as she began to pull and rub her
own breasts.
"AIEEEEEE!" Her scream was loud and long. Then she stopped and pumped
madly against him, grinding her crotch against him from time to time,
again reaching for a subsequent release. Jorge could feel tightening
in his groin, a beginning for a release of his own.
"Unnnnngh," a low grunt from Jorge signaled his second orgasm. He
could feel the sweat dripping from his brow. Jessica was becoming
frantic as she felt him slow down.
Jorge reached out with the talent, pulling the nerve endings to force
her orgasm to hit.
Jessica screamed. The spasms of sudden pleasure hit her with a solid
wall. The roiling flesh under Jorge rocked back and forth trying to
further enhance the sudden burst she'd received.
Then she collapsed, a bundle of limp woman. Wrung out by her sexual
release, too tired to complete a smile. As she lay there, Jorge pulled
out and stepped to the side of the bed. Her legs reflexively pulled
closed as she rolled to her side.
"What did you do to me?," she asked when she could work it in between
panting breaths.
"I had sex with you. You seemed to have enjoyed yourself."
"I've never had sex like that before, and I didn't come up here on
voluntarily. Oh sure, I really enjoyed it." She paused, taking in a
deep breath. "But you forced me up here."
"Now how could I possibly force you?" He grinned. "You wanted me to
bring you here."
"No, I," she looked unsure. "I must have, but I don't think I did."
"Too bad. Now, I have some work to do, my friend should be here soon."
He stood, and started to pull his clothing together.
"Will you," she started. She looked very sleepy. "That is..."
"Come by this evening," he responded. He felt very drowsy, but pulled
his pants on without too much trouble.
He noticed she had dropped off into a sound sleep. He smiled and got
the shirt on too.
As he finished moving the covers over her, he considered going down to
the lobby to wait for Bob. He decided against it. If Bob wanted, he
could use the girl too while they waited for something to break.
He sat on the couch and relaxed.
====
The grounds were meticulously kept.
Bob never spent any time at resorts like this. He walked into the
lobby after permitting the valet to take his keys. The small wooden
disk which would permit him to reclaim his wheels was easily slipped
into his pocket.
There was a strange sense to the place. So before he called Jorge, he
sat at the coffee shop in the lobby. Soon, with a cup of coffee, he
sat back to puzzle out what bothered him.
There were an awful lot of young women, some couples. Bob also saw a
fair number of what Betty use to call 'pretty boys'. There didn't
seem to be any number of other kinds of customers. He started looking
for retirees, or vacationing families.
Not spotting any, he reached out to the staff at the registration
desk and scanned them. All of them had come on duty since he'd spoken
with Jorge. It didn't seem right, but perhaps the change of duty was
normal at around three o'clock here. No, these people were called in.
They all received urgent calls to take over for ill staff members.
Bob paid his tab and walked about. He just couldn't believe this was
natural demographics for a resort like this. He started to consider
the idea this was another Institute.
Yet there was no signs of anyone in a mind shield. Everyone he found
could be scanned quickly, and seemed to be on vacation. The crude
controls weren't there either. Yet something was wrong.
Bob felt the twinge of fear he had in Harlem creep up on him again.
====
Betty stepped into the airport.
After her, Bambi got off the plane, smiling at the young college boys
that waved to her. She knew they were certain she had just fucked
each of them.
Only she knew the memories were planted by her. She had found the only
good sex she had now was when Bob took control of her. She knew he'd
let her wander free, but inside she knew. She was decidedly his. Only
the other women in his harem could substitute, and then only when he
wasn't around.
Betty waited for her to catch up. At the luggage, a red cap picked up
their things and led them to a waiting taxi. The incident with the
young men had aroused Bambi, so she fingered Betty the whole way to
the hotel. The Taxi driver didn't see anything.
The rooms adjoining Bob's were reserved for them. The luggage put
aside, Bambi slipped out into the evening air. She had one more job to
perform before she let herself sleep tonight.
Tomorrow, Randi should arrive too. With their contingent of rather
unique employees.
====
"You are Jones?" The pale faced woman in black snapped the question at
him like a whip. Her voice was deeper than he expected and strongly
commanding.
Jones had never seen her before, but he knew exactly who she was. He
wasn't going to do anything to offend her if he could avoid it. She
looked odd, a harsh face with too much makeup. Her hands were hidden
beneath a pair of elbow length gloves, the stockings she wore were
loose and ill fitting. The dark hair made her sinister as well, almost
witch like in appearance.
"Yes," he struggled to maintain his calm. "I am Jones. And you are?"
"Jezabel. You know that. Where is Thadeous? He is supposed to meet
with me."
"I," Jones paused gulping. Thadeous was visiting a new facility. He'd
be back soon, but if he knew Jezabel was coming he would have stayed.
"I don't know why he isn't here if, as you say, he knew you were
coming. Can I get you anything while you wait? He shouldn't be long."
"Fine. You can tell me what our status is while I wait. Have someone
bring some coffee."
Jones rushed to the door. He called one of the new guards in.
Explaining he didn't want any interruptions and Thadeous was to be
brought directly when he arrived, he also directed someone was to
bring coffee and some sandwiches.
He turned to speak with his visitor. She had taken the most prominent
seat in the room, pulling her stockings into place and smoothing the
black dress across her lap. She folded her hands in her lap and fixed
her gaze on Jones.
"Let's start with what you know about what happened at the
Rehabilitation Clinic, shall we?"
Jones swallowed. He sat down in the chair before her.
"As you wish..." He began to speak, trying to ignore the horrible
sweet smell of her perfume.
****
I know you all wonder why the break in episodes from 12 until now.
I'm just a little busy lately.
I look forward to getting this thing finished.
-Blackie.
"And the stranger beamed, and he looked, it seemed,
Like he'd been born anew-
For perched on his pole was the lovely hole
Of the lady that's known as Lou."
-from "Dangerous Dan McGrew"
--
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