Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Candace's Education One



   Rick Logan seethed as he fidgeted on the couch.  He was fed up with
waiting.  Every time he went out with Candace, she would pull this little
game with him.  She would greet him at the door with a bright smile, and
usher him into her living room.  Then she would take on an apologetic
expression and explain that she hadn't had time to get ready yet, and ask
if he would mind waiting a few minutes.

   Rick always assented.  At first, he'd done this because he was a very
patient person, and it didn't matter to him if they were a few minutes
late. But after being kept waiting for half an hour for each of their first
five dates, he'd begun to get irritated.

   So on the sixth date, he'd deliberately shown up fifteen minutes late,
in order to give her some extra time to prepare.  He'd figured it was the
easiest possible solution to the problem.  There was no point in haranguing
Candace about her tardiness when he could just as easily adjust his own
schedule.

   Unfortunately, the plan had backfired.  When he'd arrived late at her
apartment, she'd met him at the door with an angry glare.  She'd chastised
him for being late, complaining that she'd been ready right on time, that
he was a jerk for being late, and that she'd appreciate it if he would try
to be a bit more timely in the future.

   He should've argued with her, and had it out right then and there.  He
should've pointed out that _she_ was the one who'd kept him waiting for the
first five dates, and that he'd only been trying to solve the problem in a
manner that would involve the least inconvenience for both of them.

   But he hadn't.  He'd been afraid that starting an argument might damage
or destroy their budding relationship.  He remembered seeing a calculating
glint in her eye, as though she'd been testing him, to see whether he'd
rebel or not.  And he hadn't.  He'd meekly agreed that it was his fault,
and that he'd try to be on time more often.

   And that, Rick reflected, was his problem.  He was never good at
confrontations.  In any dispute, he would always take the easy way out. 
That was probably why he'd been stuck in the same dead-end job for six
years, working in the mailroom of a large medical-supply company.  No
promotion, no pay raise.  Nothing.  And that pretty much summed up his
life.

   Candace Cunningham turned her head and looked at the clock next to the
bed, her soft brown hair twisting across the pillow as she did so. 
Twenty-five minutes.  She decided that she'd kept Rick waiting long enough.
With a grunt of exertion, she lifted herself off the bed.

   She looked at herself in the mirror as she brushed her hair.  She kept
it simple, brushing it straight down her back.  It was important to keep it
neat and simple, so that Rick didn't get an inflated notion of how
important he was to her.  Men were nice enough as diversions, but they were
hardly one of the necessities of life.

   Candace pondered her relationship with Rick as she looked through her
wardrobe for something to wear.  It was so much trouble to find clothes for
a woman that weren't degrading.  After all, the vast majority of clothes
were designed by men who could only view a woman as a sex object.  Shoes
that sacrificed stability and comfort for the sake of putting a curve in
the back of the leg, skirts that were designed to bring about thoughts of
sex in men, blouses that practically put breasts on display...  it was
disgraceful.  She settled on a pair of brown slacks, a flowery button- down
shirt and a pair of brown loafers.  Stylish, yet comfortable.  She was
ready for the evening.  She didn't own any makeup or jewelry; these, too,
were male inventions designed with the debasement of woman in mind.

   Rick stood as Candace entered the living room, sighing in wonder as he
did every time he saw her face.  She was quite beautiful.  Wide brown eyes
gazed out under thick eyebrows.  High cheekbones framed an aqualine nose,
and a wide mouth smiled beneath it.  A thick mane of chestnut brown hair
fell down her back, framing her face.

   Though the slacks and shirt hid it, Rick knew her body to be quite
attractive.  Years of vegetarian eating had given her a thin, though not
quite willowy figure.  Her breasts were small but quite pert, and her legs
and ass thin, but shapely.

   For the hundredth time, Rick looked at her, thinking that if only she
would put some effort into it, she could be dynamite.  All she'd need was
the right clothes, a little makeup, and some jewelry and she could be sexy
as all hell.  But he knew what she thought on these subjects, and didn't
want to get an earful, so he let it lie.

   "You look fabulous."

   "Thanks," she replied.  "Let's go."

   Rick treated her to a nice dinner at a charming Italian restaurant. 
They talked about the usual things; the weather, politics, movies, her job.
Candace was an editor for Woman's Work, a prominent and rather militant
feminist magazine.

   Rick had read a few issues of the magazine at her urging, and was rather
distuurbed by its contents.  Rick fully supported most of the ideals of the
women's movement, but he thought Woman's Work was far too radical.  He
hadn't said as much to Candace, though.  Not yet.

   Although the content of their conversation was not unusual, Rick
detected a certain weariness in Candace's manner.  But their dinner ended
without incident, and Rick drove her home as usual.

   It was with a sense of relief that Candace closed the door behind her
after Rick dropped her off.  Thank god that was over!

   When she'd first started going out with Rick, they'd had a good time. 
She'd been amused by his quick mind and ready wit.  And he was pretty
handsome, too.  Candace had had high hopes at the beginning that Rick would
turn out to be different from other men.  But as the weeks and months wore
on, it'd become obvious that that wasn't the case.

   He'd begun to pay increasing amounts of attention to her body.  She'd
caught a number of sidelong glances at her breasts and ass.  It was so
frustrating!  Try to have a decent, equal- status relationship with a man,
and you always wound up being viewed as a sex object.

   She had to admit to herself, though, that she enjoyed the attention.  It
was fun to play with mens' minds, get them aroused and watch them boil in
frustration.  Served them right, for all they'd done to keep her gender in
the dirt.

   And it had been fun to do it to Rick, once she'd discovered that he was
just an ordinary mind-in-the-pants sleazeball like all the rest.  She'd
occasionally arrange things so that her breast would press againt his arm,
or her hand would innocently brush his crotch.  Sometimes she could see him
getting hard through his pants.  She enjoyed the control she had over him.

   But ultimately, it was getting stale, and even dangerous.  Rick was
starting to get bolder.  Several times he'd tried to kiss her, and she'd
had to make up some clever ruse on the spot to avoid it.  She knew what men
were capable of - rape, or worse - and she didn't want to risk provoking
the rapist in Rick.

   So it was time to get someone new.  Tomorrow, she decided, she'd dump
him.  They already had dinner plans, and she could break it to him gently.
Tomorrow.

   Rick went to work the next day feeling more depressed than ever about
his relationship with Candace.

   "Yo, Rick!" Rick looked up in the direction the voice had come from just
in time to see a small package sailing toward him through the air.  He
caught it deftly.  "That needs to go up to Briggs, pronto!" The voice
belonged to Harvey Sheldon, the mail room chief.  "It's several hours late,
and he's been calling me every fifteen minutes since six this morning."

   "On my way," Rick responded without enthusiasm, heading for the
elevator. Damon Briggs, vice-president for marketing, was the primary
reason Rick had been stuck in this dead-end job for so long.  Three times
Rick had applied for open positions in marketing, and three times Briggs
had turned him down, despite the fact that he had clearly been the
best-qualified candidate all three times.

   Rick punched the elevator button for the marketing floor, visualizing
Briggs's slack-jowled, bulldog face.  "The problem with you, Rick," said
Briggs's voice, echoing in his head, "is that you just don't have the
drive. Sure, you look good on paper, but you just don't have that special
something it takes to make it in the corporate world.  Probably never in
your life are you gonna grab the bull by the balls, Rick.  I really don't
think you belong here."

   And of course, he'd just sat there and taken it, as he'd taken so many
other things in his life.  A stronger person, Rick thought, would have
stood up to Briggs, demanded a chance to prove himself.  But he'd just sat
there and listened to Briggs drive him into the ground.

   The elevator pinged as it reached the 25th floor, where the marketing
department was located.  Rick stepped out and strode through the glass
doors into the marketing lobby.

   "Morning, Rick," said Jennifer Cipriani, Briggs's secretary.  Jennifer
was a pudgy Mediterranean woman who looked to be about thirty.  Her face
was rather pretty, with strong classical features, but the fact that she
was about thirty pounds overweight kept her from being attractive, in
Rick's view.

   Unfortunately, he'd had to brush off a number of passes she'd made at
him.  In spite of this, though, they'd become friends, and shared between
them a certain wry humor regarding Briggs.

   The standard half-eaten bar of chocolate lay in its wrapper on her desk.
Jennifer nibbled absentmindedly at it as she scribbled Briggs's signature
on a sheaf of papers.  "What can I do for you?" she asked, looking up and
smiling at Rick.

   "Morning, Jen.  Package for Mr.  Briggs."

   "Oooh, he's been waiting for that all morning.  Better take it in.  He's
alone right now." Jennifer spoke into the intercom.  "Rick's here with that
packace, Mr.  Briggs."

   "Thanks, Jen," Rick said, walking past her desk to the big oak doors.  A
large gold-finished plate announced the entrance to "The Office of Damon
Briggs, Vice-President of Marketing." Rick pushed the doors open and strode
in.

   The corpusculent form of Damon Briggs greeted him from behind the desk.
"Rick!  Good to see you again!" he exclaimed without much sincerity. 
"Let's have it." A pudgy hand reached for the package.  Rick passed it over
to him.  "Thanks, Rick," Briggs said, eagerly tearing the package open.

   Rick turned and left, waving goodbye to Jennifer as he headed to the
elevator.  He'd almost made it when Briggs's yell of anguish hit him from
behind.

   "No!  Dammit, dammit, dammit!"

   Rick turned just in time to see Briggs storm out of the office, the
opened package in one hand.  "The stupid bastards screwed up again! 
Jennifer, get on the phone to Dexalco and tell them we wanted tetracamine,
not tetracaTHALamine.  Make sure whichever moron you speak to understands
the difference between four syllables and five.  Christ."

   Briggs's jaw worked furiously as he strode over to Rick and thrust the
package into his hands.  "Take this down to pharmaceutical disposal, Rick,
and get rid of it."

   Rick accepted the package and watched as Briggs strode angrily back to
his office.  Jennifer, already dialing the phone, looked ruefully at him.
"It's a great day already, Rick!" she said.

   "Good luck with Briggs," Rick replied, and headed for the elevator. 
Curiously, he examined the contents of the package.

   There were six small vials of liquid and several sheets of paper.  Rick
glanced over the top sheet as he waited for the elevator.

   Beneath the letterhead of Dexalco Pharmaceuticals was a short
description of the drug.
TETRACATHALAMINE: Strong hypnotic drug.

   Dosage of 5 drops standard solution will put a 125-pound subject into a
deeply suggestible mental state in approximately thirty minutes.  Standard
hypnotic techniques may then be used.  Required dosage varies with weight.
No known...

   Rick was interrupted by the chime of the arriving elevator.  He stuffed
the paper back into the box as a gray-haired executive walked past him out
of the elevator.  He could get into big trouble for reading mail.

   Rick stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the third
floor, where the company's pharmaceutical disposal unit was located. 
Federal law required the disposal of unused narcotics according to a
complex set of safety guidelines.

   The elevator doors closed and the car descended.  Rick pondered what
he'd read, an idea slowly creeping into his mind.  Could he...  make use of
the drug?  He could drug Candace, hypnotize her to be more friendly toward
him, to...

   No, he couldn't do that.  The thought of forcing a woman to have sex
with him was revolting.  Even a hypnotized sexual partner was still, in
reality, an unwilling one.

   Besides, he had to take the drug to the disposal unit.  These things
were tracked carefully, and if the package wasn't handed over to the
disposal technicians, it would eventually be traced to him, and he'd be in
trouble.  The package had to go to disposal.  And that was that.  But what
if...

   Rick looked in the box again.  Six vials of liquid.  What if there were
only five when it got to the dispossal techs?  Would they notice?  Maybe.
He wasn't sure how thoroughly they checked these things.

   But if they did notice, how likely would they be to track it down? 
Probably not very likely, he guessed.  After all, they dealt with several
thousand bottles and packages every day.  What would one missing vial count
for among all that?

   But could he possibly bring himself to do this sort of thing?  It was
immoral to hypnotize people for your own gain.  Wasn't it?  Unbidden,
Briggs's face appeared in Rick's mind.  "You're probably never gonna grab
the bull by the balls, Rick."

   Rick snatched one of the vials out of the package and thrust it into his
pocket just as the elevator doors opened.  Nonchalantly, he strode to the
disposal desk, placing the package on the counter.  "Package from Briggs,"
he informed the technician behind the desk, fighting to keep the tremor
from his voice.

   The tech took it and made a cursory examination of the contents. 
"Thanks.  Here's your receipt."

   Rick took the receipt and hurried to the elevator before his nervousness
could show.  Flush with success, he reached into his pocket and fingered
the vial.

   ***********************************

   When he got back to the mailroom, Rick found himself in the middle of a
crisis.  Three regular mailbags from the Los Angeles office had run into
unexpected delays and had all arrived while Rick was running the errand for
Briggs.  It took the rest of the day for the mailroom staff to get all the
backed-up mail delivered.  Consequently, Rick forgot about the vial.

   He arrived at Candace's aparment promptly at 7:00 that evening, right on
time for their dinner date.  Half an hour later, they left and went to a
vegetarian restaurant that Candace liked.  Rick hated vegetarian food, but
it was all she would eat.  This meant that most of the time, he had to eat
it as well.  Occasionally, they would go to a normal restaurant, where she
would get a salad or something non-meaty.  At those places, he occasionally
got a meat dish, but she made her disapproval evident whenever he did this.

   During their dinner conversation, Rick detected the same weariness in
Candace's manner he'd seen last night.  But it was stronger tonight.  She
seemed to be a bit nervous about something.  After finishing the meal, they
ordered after-dinner drinks.  Candace excused herself to go to the
restroom.

   Rick took the opportunity to ponder the situation.  What had her so
worked up?  It was as though she had something really big she needed to get
off her chest.  Something...

   Of course!  She was going to dump him!  She was trying to find the right
moment to tell him.  He felt a surge of anger wash over him.  Dammit,
they'd been dating for months, he'd paid for every meal, and he hadn't
gotten so much as a kiss from her.  Why had she strung him along for so
long?  He leaned back, thrusting his hands into his pockets...

   ...and his fingers burshed against the glass vial.  He started,
remembering it for the first time since getting out of the elevator. 
Slowly, carefully, he pulled it out of his pocket and held it up to the
light.  Inside, the clear liquid sloshed around.

   Rick gazed at the vial.  It wasn't right to do this to someone, but...
dammit, she'd been such a bitch.  He could see it now.  She'd strung him
along, using him as a source of free food while keeping him at arms' length
emotionally and physically, teasing him all the while to keep up his
interest.  She had manipulated him, coldly and cynically, and it was only
fair to give her a little taste in return.

   Resolved, Rick unscrewed the top of the bottle, pulling out the built-in
dropper.  He filled the dropper and struggled to recall the writing on the
sheet.  Five drops.  Yes, that was it.  Placing the dropper over Candace's
drink, he squeezed and watched the drops fall.  One...  two...  three... 
four...  five.  Hurriedly, he screwed the cap back onto the top of the
bottle and shoved it back into his pocket.

   Candace reappeared a moment later and took her seat.  They talked and
drank as they sipped their drinks.  Rick watched Candace for any sign that
the drug was affecting her behavior, and found none.  But the sheet had
said thirty minutes, hadn't it?  He thought so, but it was hard to
remember.

   They finished their drinks and began the drive home, continuing the
incessant conversation.  It was as though they were both talking more
excitedly and animatedly, and with more feigned interest, because they both
knew that something bad was coming up, Rick mused.

   He took no notice when her participation began to drop off.  She stopped
offering her own ideas and opinions, and started simply agreeing to
whatever he said.  Gradually, her responses became monosyllabic.

   Suddenly, he realized what had happened.

   "Candace?" he ventured.

   "Mmm.  Yes?" she responded, staring ahead out the front of the car.

   "How are you feeling?"

   She thought for a moment.  "Fine, I guess." Her face remained forward.
Take it slowly, Rick told himself.  Make sure it's working.  "Look out the
window to your right," he said.

   "Okay." Her head swiveled ninety degrees to the right, and remained
facing that way.  She made no other move.

   Rick couldn't believe it.  Here was the most independent- minded woman
he'd ever met, accepting his odd suggestions as though they were perfectly
natural.  He racked his brain to recall what he could of hypnosis.

   The important thing seemed to be that the subject wouldn't respond to
all suggestions, just those that seemed reasonable.  So having her, say,
engage in sex with him right here in the car was probably out of the
question.  Take it slowly, he admonished himself again.  "Candace?"

   "Yes?" Her voice was muffled; Rick realized she was still looking out
the window.

   "Face forward again." She did so immediately.  "I want you to answer the
questions I ask honestly and completely."

   "Okay," she agreed.

   "What do you think of me?"

   "I thought you were a nice guy when we first met, but lately I've come
to realize that you're just like all the other men."

   Hmmm.  This was interesting.  "And what are other men like?"

   "They're only interested in sex.  They can only view women as sex
objects.  They'd probably rape any woman they could if they thought they
could get away with it."

   This was really unusual, Rick thought.  He'd known she was very much
into women's liberation, even to the point of being somewhat bitter toward
men in general, but he'd had no idea she harbored such a misandronistic
streak.  "So...  you think I would rape you if I thought I could get away
with it?"

   "Well, not necessarily.  But after we'd been together long enough, I'm
sure you'd do it eventually.  That's why I'm planning to break up with you
when you drop me off."

   So his instincts had been on the right track, Rick thought.  "What made
you realize that I'm like that?"

   "The way you keep looking at my body.  You look at my breasts, or my
butt, or my legs.  I can tell you're thinking about having sex with me. 
It's quite demeaning."

   "Have you ever had sex with a man?"

   "No.  I could never let a man have that sort of power over me.  Besides,
I can bring myself more pleasure masturbating than any man could ever give
me."

   "Really?"

   "Yes.  Men only care about themselves."

   A thought crossed Rick's mind.  "Have you ever had sex with another
woman?"

   "No."

   Rick paused for a moment, considering what to do.  The first priority
was to preserve the relationship.  If he stopped seeing Candace, no amount
of drug could get what he wanted.

   But, he reminded himself again, it was important to be careful in this,
and take things in slow, natural steps.

   How best to do this?  he wondered.  He didn't have the foggiest clue as
to what was the best way to make a suggestion, so he decided to just try
the easy way.

   "Candace?"

   "Yes?"

   "You don't really think I'm as bad as other men," Rick said in what he
hoped was a calm voice.  "Sure, I'm still a man, and that carries some
intrinsic meaning, but I'm actually very civilized compared to most.  Isn't
that right?"

   Her face scrunched up in thought.  "Yes, I suppose so.  You're not
nearly as bad as I thought."

   "In fact, maybe you don't need to break off our relationship just yet.
You could probably date me safely for at least another month.  Don't you
think so?"

   "Yes...  yes, that's right.  I don't need to dump you just yet." She sat
back, pleased at her realization.

   Rick smiled a bit at her choice of words.  It was funny that she should
talk about dumping him when he was clearly the one in control.  He decided
to take one more small step tonight.  "And when I look at you, like I want
to have sex with you, you won't find it disgusting anymore.  In fact, when
you see me looking at your body, you'll get a little excited by it.  Almost
like you were masturbating.  Not really stong, but noticeable...  and
pleasurable.  Okay?"

   She shrugged.  "Okay." Rick decided to hold it there for the evening. 
He didn't want to press his luck.  But he had to clean up after himself. 
What was the mumbo-jumbo that hypnotists did when they were done? 
"Candace, I'm going to start slowly counting down from five.  You're going
to feel your mind get fuzzier and more confused as I do so.  When I reach
one, you will have forgotten everything that's happened since I asked you
how you were feeling a few minutes ago.  Remember that?"

   "Uh-huh."

   "Good.  All you'll be able to remember will be that we had a nice
conversation on the way home.  All right?"

   "Okay."

   "Here we go.  Five...  four...  three...  two...  one." Candace made no
movement, simply staring ahead.  Carefully, Rick tried to restart the
conversation.  "So...  have you tried that new Chinese takeout place?"

   "No."

   Well, Rick thought, even if he'd successfully caused her to block out
the conversation, she'd still be under the influence of the drug.  He
continued to talk as though they were having a perfectly ordinary
conversation.  Gradually, her speech moved from monosyllabic responses to
simple statements of agreement.  Soon she was back into the swing of
things, offering up her own opinions and ideas in response to Rick's.  He
relaxed, confident that she'd forgotten their earlier conversation.

   Rick dropped her off at her apartment.  She never invited him in, so
there was no point in parking.  "Thanks for dinner, Rick," she said
sweetly.

   "You're welcome," he responded, glancing at her chest.  She flushed a
little at that, and opened her mouth as though about to say something.

   But whatever words had been about to come out froze in her mouth, and a
puzzled look crossed her face.  Rick did his best to look confused. 
"Candace?"

   "Ummm...  oh, nothing.  Nothing," she said hurriedly.  "How about dinner
tomorrow?"

   "Sounds good.  Seven o'clock?"

   "Sure.  See you then." She got out of the car, closed the door, and
hurried up to the building.  Rick smiled, pleased with a job well done, as
he drove off into the night.

   Candace paused at the door to her building.  Why had she done that? 
She'd planned the whole evening to dump Rick when he dropped her off.  Why
hadn't she done it?  And why the hell had she been so...  excited...  by
that glance he'd given her breasts?

   Confused, she unlocked the door and hurried up the stairs to her
apartment.  Dammit, it had just been another one of those lustful
sex-crazed male looks at her body.  Those had never had any effect on her
before, other than inspiring disgust at men in general.  Why had that
glance from Rick seemed so...  different?

   She entered the apartment and sat down on the couch to think.  Rick
seemed...  different, somehow.  Less of a creep.  Kinder.  In fact, why had
she been planning to dump him in the first place?

   She thought back to the reasoning she'd used earlier, when she'd made
the decision to dump him.  None of it seemed to make sense anymore.  Well,
at any rate, Rick would probably be worth having around for at least... 
oh, at least another month.  Over the course of the next week and a half,
Rick took Candace out to dinner five times, and often to a movie afterward.
For the most part, her manner on these dates was unchanged.  But several
times Rick let her catch him looking at her breasts, ass or legs.  Rick
noted with pleasure the flush of excitement that rushed into her face.  She
would nervously look away whenever this happened.  He was enjoying their
time together quite a bit more, knowing that his glances got her excited.

   When he was at work, however, he was a nervous wreck.  He toiled at his
job in dread, constantly worried that some inventory-checker somewhere
would discover the missing vial of drug and trace it to him.  Every time
the P.A.  system came on, Rick's heart leapt into his throat.  The only
positive effect of the whole ordeal was that his nerves drove him to work
very hard at his job, earning quite a bit of admiration from his
supervisor.

   On his fifth date with Candace since he'd hypnotized her, Rick got his
second chance.  Again, it was just after the empty dinner plates had been
cleared away and the after-dinner drinks served.  Candace took a few sips
of her drink and excused herself to go to the bathroom.  Rick shot a look
at her breasts as she got up, causing her once again to get flustered and
hurry away.

   Smiling, Rick waited until she was out of sight and pulled the bottle
out of his pocket.  Measuring carefully, he dispensed five drops into her
drink, swirling the glass slightly in order to mix the drug thoroughly.

   Candace returned in a few minutes.  They finished their drinks and began
the drive home.  As before, Candace gradually allowed her end of the
conversation to drop off into simple yes's and no's.  When Rick was
confident that the drug had taken effect, he decided it was time to begin.

   "How are you feeling, Candace?" "Fine."

   "How are your toes feeling?"

   A brief shrug.  "Fine."

   All right, then.  "So how do you feel around me?"

   She sighed.  "Excited.  It really affects me when you look at my breasts
or my legs like you want to have sex with me.  I mean, I know it's the
ordinary male lust, but for some reason, when you do it, it has this effect
on me."

   "So you enjoy it when I look at your body?"

   "Yes, I do."

   "You'd enjoy it even more if I looked at your body more often, then,
wouldn't you?"

   Color was rising in her cheeks.  She smiled happily.  "Oh, yes, I'd
enjoy that very much."

   "Well, there are a couple things you could do to make me look at you
more often."

   "Really?  What?"

   "You could wear some different clothes.  Like a skirt that would let
some of your legs show, or a blouse that was cut low enough to give a
glimpse of your breasts."

   She frowned.  "No, I couldn't wear those things.  They're...  degrading.
They'll make me a sex object."

   Oops.  Well, what could he do to control the damage?  "But there are
plenty of long, conservative skirts that don't reveal much.  And blouses
that just give a nice view of your upper chest without showing too much of
your breasts.  Plenty of women wear those.  Why don't you try a couple of
outfits like that next time you're at the store, and buy a few?"

   "Hmmm.  Well, okay.  It _will_ get me more looks from you, I guess."

   "Also, a little bit of lipstick might help."

   "Mmmm...  okay, I'll try that, too."

   "Good girl.  And while we're on the subject, you're going to continue to
get excited whenever I look at your body.  In fact, it's going to get you
even more excited than it has been.  Okay?"

   "Okay," she agreed.

   "So I must be kind of special to you, if I make you feel this way, huh?"


   "Well, yes, I suppose that's true.  Nobody else makes me feel like
that."

   "Don't you think you should show me how special I am?  I mean, do
something nice to let me know what I mean to you?"

   "Like what?"

   "When I drop you off tonight, you can kiss me.  Nothing fancy, just a
quick peck on the lips.  I'll be surprised by it.  And it'll let me know
how special I am."

   "All right, I'll give you a kiss.  But that's all."

   "Fine.  And when you kiss me, you'll feel a surge of pleasure, like you
do when I look at you, only stronger."

   "Okay."

   Rick paused for a moment, a thought percolating up through his mind. 
He'd accomplished all he really needed to this time, but there was one
other thing he was curious to try.  Just for fun...  "One last thing,
Candace.  The way you've been getting excited by me looking at you.  You're
going to start feeling that way when other men look at your body.  Not as
much as you do for me, but you'll still feel the excitement.  Got that?"

   "Okay."

   Satisfied with his work, Rick led her through the procedure to erase the
memory of the conversation from her brain.  Gradually, the drug wore off,
and her conversational skills picked up again as they arrived at her place.


   Candace looked at Rick as he stopped the car in front of her building.
He was so...  so different.

   When she was around him, she felt so...  wonderful.  It was impossible
to describe.  Suddenly, some deep part of her subconscious took control of
her body.  She leaned over and put her lips to Rick's.

   An electric thrill shot down her spine at the touch of his lips.  She
pulled away, startled, trying to compose herself.  "Umm...  uh...  Thanks
for dinner, Rick.  We're still on for tomorrow, right?" She made a queasy
smile in an attempt to hide her nerves.

   "Sure, Candace," he replied, smiling broadly.  "Pick you up at eight?"

   "Uh...  yeah, yeah.  Okay, see ya!" She hurried out of the car, closing
the door behind her, and trotted up to the steps.  She heard the car
accelerate down the street.

   What was coming over her?  All her life, she'd striven to be the very
model of the independent female, dependent on men for nothing, least of all
emotional well-being, and here she was going all goo-goo eyed over Rick! 
She wasn't so much bothered by the fact that she'd kissed him as by the
reason she'd kissed him.  Why did he have this power over her?

   Confused, she strode up the stairs to her apartment.

   Rick glanced back at Candace in the rear-view mirror as he drove off
down the street.  Perfect.  She was slowly, but surely, falling in love
with him.

   The hypnotic drug had given him the key to a more balanced, a more equal
relationship.

   With a few more uses of the drug, he could guide Candace and himself in
a deep, lasting love, the kind that he'd dreamed of having when he'd first
met her.

   But something bothered him.  Was that what he really wanted, a deep,
lasting, "equal" relationship?

   Or was he really after something else?  It wouldn't have occurred to him
to question his own motives if not for that one additional suggestion he'd
given to Candace.

   She would get turned on by other men looking at her.  Why had he done
that?

   Rick pondered these questions as he drove on into the night.

   Candace's Education Two



   Rick realized when he got home that he faced a rather critical
short-term problem: his supply of the hypnotic drug was low.  Looking into
the tiny vial, he estimated that at most three doses of the fluid remained.
He'd have to get more.

   He pondered the problem as he went to bed that night.  He had no way to
get more himself; he was just a mail clerk.  He'd have to make use of
Briggs, hypnotize him and get him to order some more.  But how best to go
about it?

   The next morning, he took the half-full vial with him to work, hoping
for some excuse to go to Briggs' office.  Typically, he was sent up there
several times a week, but it could be days until it happened next.

   Luck was on his side.  A sample of a new anitibiotic had arrived for
Briggs.  Rick thought about volunteering to take it up, but didn't want to
arouse suspicion.  Harvey Sheldon, the mail room supervisor, knew that Rick
hated Briggs with a passion, and would probably take note of his sudden
enthusiasm to see "The Marketing Monster." So Rick remained calm and
casual, and got lucky.  Sheldon told him to take the package up.

   Rick rode the elevator up to the Marketing Department.  "Hi, Jen," he
greeted the secretary.  "Got a package here for Briggs."

   "Oh, hi, Rick." Jennifer smiled at him.  "Why don't just leave that
here, and I'll give it to him, okay?"

   "Uh..." Rick thought fast.  "I'm afraid I can't do that.  Mr Briggs has
to sign for it personally."

   "Oh." Jennifer frowned at the unusual request.  "Well, okay, then, why
don't you just take it on in, then."

   "Thanks, Jen," Rick responded, relieved.  He strode through the doors
into Briggs's lair.  "Package for you, sir."

   "Mmm..." Briggs took the package from Rick's outstretched hand.  "Oh,
all right.  Thanks, Rick."

   Rick paused awkwardly before leaving.  "Uh..." His eyes searched
Briggs's desk, settling on an empty coffee mug.  "Can I get you some more
coffee, sir?"

   Briggs was taken aback by the unusual offer.  "Huh?"

   "W-Well, sir, I...  thought you might like some more coffee," Rick
repeated stupidly.

   Briggs thought for a moment, and shrugged.  "Sure.  Here you go.  No
cream, no sugar."

   Rick took the offered mug and walked out of the office.  Jennifer looked
up as he came out, saw him carrying the mug, and quickly picked hers up off
the desk.  "Could you get me some, too, Rick?" she asked, thrusting the mug
toward him with one hand, nibbling on a block of chocolate with the other.

   "Sure thing, Jen," he replied, taking the mug.  Rick trotted down the
hall to the coffee machine and filled up the mugs, adding a touch of cream
to Jennifer's.  Carefully, he measured out five droplets of the fluid and
dripped them into Briggs's mug.  He was about to put the vial with what was
left of the fluid back in his pocket when something occurred to him.

   He looked down the hall to where Jennifer sat behind the desk, her
overweight body crammed into an office chair.  He'd always felt sorry for
her, for her seeming inability to control her appetite, and her craving for
chocolate.  He'd been planning to use the last of the fluid on Candace,
but...

   If his plan worked, he'd have all of the drug he needed.  And if it
didn't, he would only have one more dose, and that wasn't enough to make
much of a difference with Candace.  So why not use it to do Jennifer a
favor?

   Decided, he poured half the remaining fluid, one more dose, into
Jennifer's coffee.  Replacing the empty vial in his pocket, he carried the
coffee back up the hall.

   "Here you go, Jen," he said as he passed her the mug.

   "Oooh, thanks, Rick," she responded, taking the coffee and sipping it.
She smiled at the taste.  "You got it just right."

   "Of course I did," he remarked casually, carrying the second mug into
Briggs's office.  "Here you go, sir.  Black."

   Briggs took the mug and sipped at it.  "Thanks, Rick."

   "Anytime, Mr.  Briggs.  Anytime," Rick said as he walked out the door.
Briggs shot him a quizzical look in response to his casual manner.  Rick
ignored it.

   Half an hour later, after making the regular 11:00 mail run to the fifth
floor, Rick returned to Marketing to see if the drugs had taken effect. 
Jennifer sat at her desk, looking blankly at the papers before her, her
hands resting calmly on the desktop.

   "Jennifer?" Rick asked.

   "Hmm.  Yes?"

   Rick tried to think of something to ask next, something unusual, but not
so unusual as to make him look like an idiot if the drug hadn't taken
effect.  "So...  been abducted by any UFO's recently?" he asked, mentally
kicking himself afterwards.

   "No," she replied calmly.

   Rick took this as proof enough that she was under the drug.  "You really
like chocolate, don't you?" he asked nonchalantly.

   "I love it."

   "You eat it a lot?"

   "Three bars a day.  Plus some ice cream at home in the evening."

   "Well, you know it's bad for you, don't you?  You're overweight because
you eat so much chocolate."

   "Yes, I know.  I try to give it up all the time, but I just can't.  I
become a nervous wreck.  It's like I'm addicted to it."

   Rick had no idea whether or not he could cure her condition, but he
decided it was worth a shot.

   "I think from now on, you're going to find you're not so interested in
chocolate.  As a matter of fact, it just tastes bad to you.  You don't know
why exactly, but it does.  And you won't want to eat it anymore."

   "As a matter of fact, you're going to find that sweets in general aren't
very tasty.  Understand?"

   "Okay.  Whatever you say."

   "And you're going to start being concerned about getting in shape. 
You're going to join a fitness club and work out regularly three times a
week.  Concentrate on your chest and your legs, but make sure to get
well-conditioned overall.  Okay?"

   "Sure."

   "Good girl." Rick didn't want to leave her at her desk in a suggestible
state.  If some passerby found her like this, it would seem pretty weird.

   "Jennifer, why don't you go to the ladies' room right now, find yourself
a stall, and sit in it for fifteen minutes or so?  Then you can come back
to your desk.  When you do, you will have forgotten all about this
conversation we had, okay?" Rick hoped this would give her enough time to
come down from the drug.

   "Sure thing, Rick," she said, getting up and walking down the hall.  He
watched her, smiling.  A new leaf had turned over in her life, he thought.

   Rick turned and strode into Briggs's office, calm and confident.  Thus
he was quite startled to be greeted by Briggs's angry roar.

   "What the hell are you doing walking into my office?"

   Rick froze, in fear for his job and his career, transfixed by the angry,
reddened face of Damon Briggs.  His mind whirled.

   Think, dammit, think!  he told himself.  Why was Briggs yelling at him?
Did he not drink the coffee?

   A quick glance at Briggs's desk confirmed that he had in fact drunk the
coffee.  What, then?  Rick thought quickly through all he knew about the
drug and hypnosis in general.

   It occurred to him that even if Briggs was in a suggestible state, that
wouldn't necessarily keep him from reacting to an unusual situation, such
as a mailroom clerk barging into his office without warning.  The only
thing to do was to try to convince Briggs that this wasn't at all unusual.

   "Ummm, well, it isn't that unusual for me to walk into your office, is
it, Mr.  Briggs?" he asked nervously.

   Briggs's brow furrowed.  "Well..." he began.

   Rick cut him off, pressing the attack.  "In fact, it's downright
ordinary.  I can walk into your office whenever I want.  Right?"

   Briggs thought for a moment.  "Well, yes, now that you mention it, it
seems perfectly normal.  Yes." He nodded to himself, convinced.  "Sorry for
yelling at you," he said, in a tone that didn't sound very apologetic. 
Even in a suggestible state, Rick realized, Briggs was still an asshole.

   He decided not to mess with the formalities, and used Briggs's first
name.  "I can call you Damon, can't I?" he asked.

   "Sure, Rick."

   "Damon, remember those samples of tetracathalamine that I brought in
last week?  The ones that got sent here by mistake?"

   "Yes.  Yes, I do."

   "Listen to me carefully.  It turns out that you actually do need some
tetracathalamine.  Thirty minutes after I leave this office today, you are
going to have Jennifer call up Dexalco and order ten vials of it. 
Understand so far?"

   "Yes." "Now listen carefully.  When it arrives, you are going to get a
fresh cup of coffee and tell Jennifer to hold all your calls.  You're going
to open the package, take out the first vial, and put five drops of the
fluid into your coffee.  Five drops.  No more, no less.  You will drink the
coffee as quickly as possible.  For the next twenty minutes, you will do
nothing.  When twenty minutes has elapsed, you will call the mailroom and
ask to have me sent up to see you.  You will tell Mr.  Sheldon that the
situation is urgent.  Then you will sit here and do absolutely nothing
until I arrive.  Do you understand?"

   "Yes."

   "Exellent.  Now, what do you think of me professionally, Damon?"

   "You're a loser.  You're a wimp who'll never amount to anything.  You're
afraid to take action."

   He said all this as though he was giving Rick his opinion of the
Yankees' chances at the penant this year.

   "I see," Rick responded.  None of this was any surprise to him.  "Well,
you'll find your opininon of me has changed.  Now you think I'm actually a
very capable worker with a bright future in your department.  Don't you
think so?"

   Briggs pondered this, as though wondering why he hadn't realized it
sooner.  "Why, yes, you are."

   "You're so impressed you'll do anything to get me into your deparment,
won't you?  In fact, you're going to have a position ready for me when you
summon me in a few days, aren't you?"

   "Why, yes, I most certainly am.  I'm not going to let some other
department snatch you up!" he said, with quite a bit of conviction.

   "Someone of my talent should have an important job, isn't that right,
Damon?"

   "Of course!"

   "Like...  Assistant Director of Marketing.  Right underneath you."

   "Yes, yes...  I'll serve Gadsen his notice immediately."

   Rick smiled.  James Gadsen, the current Assistant Director, was a pompus
ass, second only to Briggs himself in that regard.  No one would be sorry
to see him go.

   "But you still won't be able to get rid of Gadsen for at least a month,
will you?"

   "Well, no, I guess not."

   "But if you wait that long, someone else might hire me."

   "That's true.  Hmmm..." Briggs took on a thoughtful expression.

   "So you'll have to hire me immediately, and just give me a month of paid
vacaion time."

   Briggs brightened.  "Yes, that would work."

   "And I'll come in and start work when Gadsen leaves."

   "Yes, you can come in then."

   "I'll have a nice, large office and my own secretary."

   "Of course."



   "Good, good," Rick responded.  "Smart choice.  Now when I walk out that
door, you are going to forget that this conversation ever happened.  And
you aren't going to answer your phone for another fifteen minutes.  Got
it?"

   "Got it," Briggs responded cheerfully.

   Rick strode out of the office without another word.

   Candace strode out of the bookstore.  She clutched her purchases tightly
to her breast, as though hoping that the writings of several prominent
radical feminists would have the power to physically deflect the admiring
glances men shot her way.  She caught a pair of teenage boys nudging each
other as they looked in her direction, and felt the blood rush to her face.


   It had never been like this before.  Men had always looked at her like
that, practically ever since she'd reached puberty.  She knew she was
attractive by any standard.  But until now, it had been something she could
ignore, or even use to her advantage, teasing men to get what she wanted
from them.

   And then, so suddenly, just a couple days ago, she'd started feeling
these sudden flashes of pleasure whenever she noticed a man looking at her.
It was almost like she was getting horny just from the attention.

   She noticed a department store to her left.  It was nothing unusual,
just the same department store where she usually bought her clothes.  But
this time, she noticed something different.

   Her eyes were drawn to a skirt in the display window.  It was nothing
special, just an ordinary, casual white skirt extending a foot below the
mannequin's knees.  Quite conservative.

   Something about it entranced Candace.  Unbidden, an image of herself in
the skirt floated into her mind.  As she walked, her calves were
alternately exposed by the swishing of the skirt.  Men would look her way,
and...  ooh, it was so exciting.

   She snapped herself out of it.  She couldn't possibly wear that thing,
displaying her legs like some sort of floozy.  It would make a mockery of
all she stood for.  Horny, single- minded men staring at her legs, and
Rick...

   Rick, oh, Rick!  The looks she could get from him!  She got excited just
thinking about it!  She had to have that skirt.

   Candace strolled confidently into the store, her previous mores
forgotten, and searched out the women's casual wear section.  She found a
friendly salesgirl there, who helped her try on several skirts and some
matching blouses.

   Looking at herself in the mirror, she had to admit she was quite pretty.
And she didn't really mind dressing for looks.  After all, if men had so
much fun looking at her, wasn't it only fair that she should have a little
fun, too?

   After a few hours, she had four skirts and three blouses that could be
combined in any number of ways.  a couple of belts, and three pairs of
casual leather shoes.  She had struck up quite a rapport with the
salesgirl, who was very helpful with her advice.

   The total bill was upwards of five hundred dollars.  Candace handed over
her credit card, and the purchases were charged.  "Well!  Anything else?"
the salesgirl asked buoyantly.

   "Uh...  yes.  Could you point me to the cosmetics counter?"

   Rick picked Candace up that evening at eight, and couldn't believe his
eyes.  She looked incredible!  The dowdy old slacks and shirt were gone,
replaced by a simple white cotton blouse and a blue denim skirt.  The
half-inch heels of her shoes clicked across the sidewalk as they walked to
the car, and her skirt swayed as she walked, giving occasional glimpses of
calf.

   But her face was the most amazing part of her.  She'd been attractive
without makeup, but with a light coat of lipstick, some mascara, and the
faintest trace of eyeshadow, she was positively gorgeous.  He told her so.

   "Thank you, Rick," she said demurely, looking away to hide her blush. 
She was clearly enjoying the attention he was paying her.  Rick was
pleased. He'd told her specifically to get the lipstick, but the rest of
the makeup was her own doing.  She was really starting to enjoy the
attention she was getting.

   They went to dinner at a Greek restaurant.  Rick made a point of
glancing at some part of her body every few minutes throughout the meal. 
Often, this would make her get flustered and forget what she was saying. 
Rick found hiself enjoying the game, trying to disrupt her just at the most
complicated part of her sentences.

   She got plenty of long looks from other men.  Rick noticed many of
these. Candace was less often aware of them, since her attention was
focused on Rick.  Occasionally, however, she would notice, and this would
cause her to smile in a goofy way and forget what she was saying.

   They went to a movie afterward, a corny romantic comedy.  Rick got up
during the last half hour to get them some soft drinks.  Before returning
to the theatre, he dropped what was left of the hypnotic drug into her
drink.  Being careful to keep Candace's drink in his right hand, and his
own in his left, he went back to the theatre and sat down.

   Candace thanked him, and sucked down her drink over the rest of the
movie.  When the movie let out, they climbed into the car to drive home. 
As usual, Candace gradually slipped into a trance-like state.  When Rick
was sure she was under the drug's effect, he started talking to her.

   "Are you enjoying all the attention you're getting?"

   "Oh, yes.  It gets me so...  excited."

   "You mean aroused?"

   "Yes, that's it.  Aroused."

   "Men looking at you?"

   "Yes.  Especially you."

   Rick smiled.  "Well, from now on, whenever you see me looking at you,
you're going to wonder what it would be like to have sex with me."

   "But I can't...  you're a man...  and men are so..." she sputtered.

   "You're just going to wonder," he reassured her.  "And tonight, when I
drop you off, you're going to give me a kiss.  Not a quick kiss, like last
time, but a long, passionate kiss.  You're starting to fall in love with
me, and you want me to know.  Got that?"

   "Yes."

   "And then after you go back to your apartment, you're going to go to
bed, and you're going to masturbate.  It's going to feel very good, and
you're going to have a great orgasm.  Aren't you?"

   "Yes, I am." "And just before you orgasm, you're going to think of me."

   "O-okay." She was having trouble with this.  Rick decided to leave it at
that.

   After leading her through the memory-blocking exercise, Rick resumed
normal conversation, and the drug wore off.  Soon they were back at her
apartment.

   "Thanks for the evening, Rick.  It was wonderful," she told him.

   "You're welcome.  I had fun, too," he replied.

   She sat there, frozen, staring at him for a second, and then slowly
closed her eyes, leaning toward him.  Rick leaned toward her, and their
lips met.  Slowly and softly they kissed, their tongues probing, dancing,
intertwining.  At long last, Rick was getting a kiss from the woman of his
dreams.

   After an eternity, they broke apart, gazing into each other's eyes. 
"Thanks again, Rick," Candace breathed softly, getting out of the car and
closing the door.

   Rick smiled to himself as he watched her walk up the steps.  Two weeks
ago, she'd been on the verge of dumping him, and now, with the help of the
drug, they'd just had their first kiss.  Life was wonderful.

   Candace stumbled into her apartment, feeling more confused than ever. 
How was this happening to her?  This was everything she had ever fought
against; dependency on a man.  Why did it have to feel so good to betray
her beliefs?

   Half an hour later, she flopped into bed, her clitoris itching for
attention.  She shoved one hand under her nightshirt and began rubbing
gently at the sensitive round nub between her legs. Oooh, it felt so good.
Candace had first discovered how to bring herself pleasure when she was
thirteen years old, and since then she'd perfected the skill.

   She started slowly, gently bringing her clitoris to erection with a
series of light brushes.  It tickled, but it was pure pleasure.  When she
was fully hard, she gradually increased the speed and pressure of her
strokes, climbing the long hill to orgasm.  With her free hand, she
caressed her breasts, rubbing the nipples until the stood hard and erect,
pointing outward from her body.

   When she felt herself approaching orgasm, she slipped the first knuckle
of her index finger into her steamy vagina, gently stroking the top of it,
bringing her to new heights of sensation.  It felt so good, much better
than those fleeting rushes she got from being looked at by men.

   Her orgasm built inexorably toward a peak.  She gloried in it,
reaffirming that she and she alone held the key to ultimate ppleasure, not
some dickheaded sexist pig men.  Her orgasm reached the boiling point...

   ...  and without warning, and image of Rick leapt into her mind, so vivd
it almost seemed real.  He lay between her legs, his erect member at the
gap between her legs, and he was pushing, pushing into her.

   "No, nooooo..." she moaned, fighting to expel the image from her mind.
This was not right.  But it felt so good!  She could just imagine what it
would feel like to take that massive piece of meat inside her.

   Her body overwhelmed her, the image of Rick dominating her mind.  She
burst into orgasm, shrieking his name.  "Rick, Rick!  Oh, Rick!  Yes! 
Yessssss!"

   Her body bounced against the bed as she struggled to take his imaginary
manhood inside her, her hips straining as waves of pleasure rushed across
her body.

   She collapsed, exhausted, on the bed, the vision of Rick fading from her
mind.  As the pleasure drifted away, desperation overcame her.  How could
this be happening to her?  Fantasizing about having sex with a man?

   Tired and more confused than ever, Candace drifted off into a troubled
sleep.

   Rick walked into work the next morning tense and nervous.  Today should
be the day, he thought.  He got right to work, hoping to pass the time
until he was called into Briggs's office.

   He happened to be in the mailroom when the package from Dexalco came in.
He was careful not to be seen looking at it more than casually, however. 
He didn't want to arouse any suspicion.  Prsently, Harvey assigned one of
the other workers to take it up to Briggs.  Rick mentally prepared himself.


   Twenty-five minutes later, Harvey's phone rang, and the word came in
that Briggs wanted to see Rick.  Rick pretended to be surprised as he
walked over to the elevator.

   He got off at Marketing and walked over to Jennifer's desk.  He was
disappointed to see that she was still her same old overweight self.  It
was unreasonable, though, to expect antything to have changed in two days.
It would take time.

   He did note with satisfaction, however that there was no chocolate bar
on her desk.  In fact there was no food or drink at all except a half-eaten
apple.  Good girl, he thought!  He should make sure, though.

   "Jennifer!" he cried in mock surprise, "No chocolate?"

   She grimaced.  "Ugh.  No.  For some reason, I just haven't felt like
having it recently.  How's it going, Rick?  What brings you up here?"

   "Briggs wants to see me."

   "Oooh.  I'm sorry," she said sympathetically.  "Well, I hope he doesn't
rip your head off.  Go on in."

   "Thanks, Jen," he responded, walking through the doors into Briggs's
office.

   Briggs jerked to life as he entered.  "Hello, Rick.  What can I do for
you?"

   "The hypnotic drug came in?"

   "Yep.  Here it is." He gestured toward an open box on the desk.  Inside,
Rick saw nine glass vials, just like the one he'd stolen earlier.  Sitting
beside the box was a tenth vial, partially full.  In front of it was a
large, empty coffee mug.

   "So you followed my instructions, Damon?" Rick asked.

   "Yep.  To the letter."

   "Everything is taken care of?"

   "Sure is.  You start drawing your new salary tomorrow."

   "Great.  Good job, Damon." Rick took one of the vials out of the package
and put it into one of the drawers of Briggs's desk.  Briggs watched with
interest.

   "Now," Rick instructed him, "the bottle you just saw is for special
occasions only.  You will remember where it is, but you will never think
about it.  Never, that is, unless I saiy the words 'We need to have a talk'
to you."

   "When I do that, you are to immediately come back here and get a fresh
cup of coffee.  You will then put five drops of that solution into your
coffee, and drink it.  From that point on, you will sit here and do nothing
until I come in and tell you otherwise.  Understand?"

   "Yes."

   "Now, the rest of these," I indicated the package, "were forwarded to
the Philadelphia office.  You will fill out all the necessary paperwork, as
though you'd sent it there, but you will also forge a receipt from the
interoffice mail carrier.  You will keep this forged receipt in your files.
As far as you know, this package was sent to Philadelphia.  Is that clear?"


   "Uh-huh."

   "Good." Rick took the package.  He led Briggs through the
forget-this-conversation drill, and left the office.

   Jennifer was waiting outside, at her desk.  She looked at Rick with her
best sympathy expression.

   "So how bad was it?  she asked.

   Rick feigned unhappiness.  "Not too bad, I guess.  He gave me the
Assistant Director position."

   Jennifer's big brown eyes lit up in wonder.  "Really?  No, you're
joking!" she said, hitting him playfully.

   "Really!" Rick exclaimed, all pretense of forlorness gone, a big smile
splitting his face.  "I'm the new Assistant Director of Marketing!"

   Jennifer squealed in delight, jumping up to give him a friendly hug. 
Rick suffered this as best he could, as her flabby arms enveloped him.  She
was a friend, after all.

   Harvey Sheldon congratulated Rick on his promotion and gave him the rest
of the day off.  "Hell," he joked, "last thing I want to do is piss off the
new Assistant Director of Marketing!" Rick spent the day moving what few
personal effects he had at work up to his new office and ordering furniture
and supplies from the company store.

   That evening, he picked Candace up for a celebratory dinner.

   She wore a tasteful blue denim sleeveless top, a long white cotton
skirt, and a pair of sensible ladies' shoes.  She was gorgeous.  Rick made
sure to let his eyes roam all up and down her body, causing her no end of
pleasurable discomfort.

   They went to a pricey Italian restaurant.  Rick splurged on good wine,
making sure to get Candace good and drunk.  And, as usual, he took
advantage of her after-dinner trip to the restroom to pour a little bit of
the drug into her drink.

   On the way, home, Rick waited until she had slipped into a suggestible
state before discussing the evening's activities.

   "How are you feeling, Candace?"

   "Happy."

   "Oh?  Why are you so happy?"

   "Because you keep looking at my body, silly!  It gets me so...  hot to
be looked at like that."

   Rick smiled.  "Well, from now it's going to make you even hotter, okay?"


   "Okay!" she said excitedly.  She seemed to really be getting into this.

   "You want to get even more attention, don't you, Candace?"

   "Oh, do I ever!"

   "Well you could get more attention by dressing the right way.  A little
more...  provocatively."

   "How do I do that?"

   "Well, try some shorter skirts.  Men like to see women showing a lot of
leg.  And wearing blouses with lower necklines will show more of your
breasts.  That's another good eyecatcher."

   "Hmm.  I guess I'll try that."

   "Also, high heels put a curve in the back of the leg, which a lot of
mend find really sexy.  And some simple jewelry can draw a lot of
attention, too."

   She pondered this for a minute, an uncertain look on her face.

   "Well, it's the truth," Rick said.  "Do it if you want to." He knew, of
course, that sooner or later she would.  Changing the subject, he asked,
"Did you masturbate last night?"

   Color rushed to her cheeks.  "Yes, I did."

   "And what happened?"

   "I...  I thought of you."

   "How did that make you feel?"

   "It was so...  exciting.  But I'm ashamed of it."

   "Why?"

   "Because you're a man!  And men just want to use women and cast them
aside.  I'm disgusted that I could ever thing about letting you do that to
me."

   "But if it's so exciting to think about, could it be that bad?"

   "Well..."

   "You're going to masturbate again tongight.  And again you're going to
think about me, and you're going to experience the most intense orgasm
you've ever had.  And you're going to love it."

   "Y-yes."

   "Tonight, when I drop you off, you're going to give me a long, deep
kiss. It's going to feel so good.  And when I rub your nipples throught
your blouse, you're going to feel a stirring deep within, a desire to have
me inside you, filling you up.  Understand?"

   She was shaking, the power of his suggestions battling with her
long-held beliefs.  "O-O-Okay."

   Rick watched as she calmed down, his suggestion implanting itself in her
brain.

   Candace snapped herself back to reality.  What had been going on?  She
felt woozy, as though she'd just been asleep.  But she hadn't, she knew
that.  She'd been sitting in the car, riding home with Rick, and...  she
couldn't remember.

   "God, honey, I shouldn't have had so much to drink," she moaned.

   "Huh?  Oh, I'm sorry.  All that wine went to your head, huh?" Rick
responded.

   "Yeah, I guess so." She leaned her head against his shoulder in a
familiar way.  A week ago, she wouldn't have been able to picture herself
taking such comfort from a man, but now, here she was, leaning on his
shoulder as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

   Rick pulled up at her apartment.  She looked up at him and smiled. 
"Thanks for dinner," she purred, in a dreamy voice.  God, he was so... 
so...  exciting.

   "My pleasure," he responded.

   She was drawn to his mouth.  Slowly, slowly, she leaned forward, closing
her eyes and parting her lips.  Her conscience pleaded with her not to do
this, not to give herself to a man, but she was driven by a fire in her
loins.

   He leaned over to meet her, and their lips touched, a thrill running
through her body at the contact.  She felt hot...

   Her brain became aware of a gentle stroking on her left nipple.  Oh, it
felt so sexy...  She kissed him with renewed vigor, mashing her lips and
tongue against his teeth.  His hand on her breast was setting her aflame.

   Her hand involuntarily shot to his crotch, grasping the stiff bulge she
found there, squeezing, imagining the trasure contained within.  Imagining
his manhood inside her...

   No!  She fought the desire.  She mustn't let this happen!  with a gasp,
she broke the kiss and pulled away from Rick.  He looked at her, confused.

   "I...  I gotta go, Rick.  Bye." She got out of the car, doing her best
to keep a serious, stern expression.  She caught a glimpse of him looking
at her hard nipples showing through the fabric, and groaned audibly.  She
closed the door and walked hurriedly to the door.

   "I'll call you tomorrow," he said to her back.  She turned and looked at
him through the window.  He was smiling at her.  She couldn't help but
smile back and wave weakly before turning back to the door.  What the hell
was happening to her?

   She opened the door and shot up the stairs, her clitoris burning, aching
for attention.

   Rick whistled merrily as he drove home, thinking about Candace.  He
could picture her running up the stairs as fast as she could, desperate to
get to her apartment and relieve the tension in her crotch.  He admitted to
himself that it was fun to see her like that, to know that he had that
effect on her.

   He was quite pleased with their little conversation about clothing.  Not
once had he ever commanded her to start dressing more provocatively.  But
she'd been interested all the same.  And soon, he had no doubt, she would
be sporting some more new clothes.

   He'd been quite surprised when she'd grabbed his cock.  In fact, he'd
almost taken it as a signal that she was going to go all the way, and he'd
been quite surprised when she pulled away.  But all these feelings were new
to her, he realized, and she couldn't be expected to realize what sort of
signals she was sending.

   Ah, well.  He would get where he was going soon enough.

   Candace stumbled into her apartment, slamming the door in her haste. 
She was almost too weak to stand.  Not even bothering to turn the lights
on, she threw herself onto the couch and pulled her skirt up.  She was so
horny from being with Rick all night, and the feel of his hand on her
breast...

   The elastic of her panties snapped as she pulled the wet fabric
violently away from her.  She bypassed her usual opening rountine, shoving
one finger deep inside her.  With her free hand, she rubbed furiously at
her erect clitoris.

   The finger in her pussy slid back and forth with a quick rhythm.

   She imagined it was Rick, his hard manhood filling her with pleasure. 
She imagined him thrusting in and out of her, his body moving up and down
in time with hers.

   Without warning, she came, a torrential avalanche of pleasure rolling
over her body as her fingers thrust furiously in and out of her.

   Her mind envisioned Rick's throbbing manhood shooting its seed deep
within her.  She screamed in ecstacy as the imagined semen shot into her
belly, and cried out his name.

   Rick called Briggs the next day and confirmed that he was now being paid
$80,000 per year, the standard salary for an Assistant Director. 
Excellent. He told Briggs that he would come back to work at the beginning
of the next month.

   He spent the day lounging around the house, relaxing.  His mind wandered
to Candace, and he wondered how long it would be before he would get into
her bed.  Soon, he knew, soon.  But it was so hard to be patient.

   Aroused, he took a short walk to the newsstand on the corner near his
apartment.  After a few minutes of browsing, he purchased a soft-core adult
magazine, one of the slickly-produced national titles.  He'd never done
this before, but the frustration of his situation drove him to seek any
release he could find.

   Back at his apartment, he removed his purchase from the brown paper bag
and began to flip through it.  The magazine contained ten or so different
photo sets.  Most were of lone women.  Some featured two women in a lesbian
situation, and several featured women and men posing in various sexual
positions.

   His eyes fixed on one of the male-female couples, and he stopped
flipping pages.  He was captivated by the woman.  It wasn't so much her
appearance; she was fairly good-looking, but not unusually so for a
magazine like this.

   It was the way she was dressed, and the expression on her face, that
caught his eye.  She was lying on her back, legs spread and resting on the
shoulders of the male model, who was preparing to shove his cock into her
pussy.

   Her clothes were nothing short of whorish.  A shiny black leather skirt
lay bunched around her waist, pulled up by one hand to give her partner
access to her pussy.  A white fishnet bodystocking had been pulled down her
chest, laying bare her breasts, which were so large and round as to be
obviously surgical.  Black fishet stockings covered her legs, and adorning
her feet were shiny black pumps with heels so long they had to be
impossible to walk on. But her face was the fascinating part.  It was well-
made up, her hair immaculately styled.  With her free hand, she was
gripping the man's cock, pulling it toward her pussy.  And the expression
on her face was one of pure lust.  Lips open, teeth mashed together in
determination, eyes fixed on the cock in her hand.

   The look that said that the cock was the only thing on her mind, the
only thing she needed.  The look of a complete slut finally getting the one
thing she craved in life.

   The strength of Rick's reaction to this picture amazed him.  Never
before had he found that sort of extreme promiscuity even remotely
attractive.  But somehow, this picture, this woman, completely entranced
him.  It was just the fact that she seemed to have so completely dedicated
herself to the pursuit of sex, to the point of dressing like a whore and
even having her breasts surgically enlarged.

   His hand reached down to the zipper of his jeans...

   Rick took Candace out every single night for the next several weeks. 
When the chance arose, typically once every two or three evenings, he
slipped the hypnotic fluid into her drink and let it take effect.

   On the way home, he would question her and "touch up" her programming,
making minor adjustments here and there, generally designed to increase the
strength of her desire for him.

   Every night when he dropped her off, they would make out for a brief
period, his hand rubbing her breasts as she nibbled his ears or kissed his
neck or lips.

   The first few times, these sessions ended quickly, with Candace breaking
things off abruptly and leaving.

   But soon, she became more relaxed, and they spent more and more time
after each date sitting in his car kissing and nuzzling, Candace getting
deliriously hot from Rick's attentions, and Rick getting hot from thinking
about how hot he could make Candace.  And after Candace left the car, she
would always rush up to her apartment and masturbate on the couch, dreaming
of Rick's cock filling her up.

   While this was going on, Candace's wardrobe shifted again.  Now she
favored sleveless blouses, often with low necklines, and skirts that left
her knees well exposed.  Often she would wear a comfortable pair of pumps
with heels around two inches in length.

   This caused her ass to gyrate a little when she walked, much to the
pleasure of Rick and any other men in the area.  She wore a bit more
makeup, with a brighter color lip gloss.  A few simple pieces of jewelry -
a couple earrings, a pendant, a bracelet on one arm -completed the look. 
Casual and tasteful, yet quite sexy.

   After two weeks of this, when Rick was sure that Candace was comfortable
with the intimacy, he suggested to her on the way home that she invite him
up to her apartment.  When they got there, she did.

   Candace calmed her nerves as she unlocked and opened the door.  She was
torn between two parts of her mind.

   One the one hand was the part of her that knew men to be evil
manipulators, the part that was scared to death of letting Rick into her
private life so late at night.

   But the other part of her was the part that had already fallen madly in
love with him, the part that thrilled to his gaze, and lusted for the feel
of his body touching hers.  And it was this part that was winning.

   She showed Rick to the couch and breezed into the kitchen, asking if he
wanted a drink.  Never having had a man into her apartment after a date
before, she was only dimly aware of the protocol in such a situation.  Rick
refused her offer.  She poured herself a glass of water and returned to the
living room, sitting on the couch next to Rick.

   Minutes later, after a few volleys of polite conversation, they were in
each other's arms again, kissing and fondling.  Candace writhed with an
electric heat, sexual energy coursing through her body.  The
independent-female ideal toward which she'd striven for so long melted in
the heat of her desire for Rick's body.

   Slowly, tenderly, Rick unbuttoned her blouse, a sleeveless white cotton
thing she'd bought a few days ago.  It was such a sexy piece of clothing
compared to what she'd been wearing a month ago.  She grimaced inwardly as
she remembered the formless, body-hiding things she'd worn then.

   Her thoughts returned to the situation at hand as Rick kissed the soft
flesh of her breasts.  Oh, it felt so good!  How could she have ever
thought that men were evil, when they could do something like this to her?

   Now he was unhooking her bra, his hands caressing her bare back as he
slid it off her chest, freeing her breasts.  The cool air on her exposed
nipples sent a sensual chill down her spine.

   Rick leaned toward them and gently blew on them.  The quick alternation
of cool air and warm excited her, and her nipples stood forth proudly. 
Mentally, she begged Rick to touch them.

   He did better than that.  He leaned over and brought his mouth down to
her left nipple, gently grasping it in his lips, flicking his tongue back
and forth over the tip.  Candace let out a long gasp of pleasure at the
sensation.  Her chest heaved as she breathed heavily, and her breasts rose
and fell, alternately pushing into Rick's face and withdrawing, streching
her nipples out as he continued to suck them.

   Tonight was the night, she knew.  The night they would have sex.  The
night she would finally feel him inside her, filling the aching hole
between her legs.  She would let him do it, let him make love to her.  She
lay back and relished the feeling of his mouth on her breasts.

   Rick continued to suck her breasts for some time, occasionally switching
between the two.  Candace waited for him to make a move toward her crotch.
As the minutes passed, she became increasingly frustrated.  She didn't let
it show; she couldn't debase herself that far.  But she ached for him to
fill the void within her.

   After half an hour of this, Rick sat back and looked at her.  "I should
be going," he said.

   Candace reeled at his words.  How could this be?  Surely he wanted it at
least as much as she did.  Didn't he?  He was a man, after all, and by
nature he must be interested in sex.  All that escaped her mouth was a
meek, "Okay."

   He stood up and walked to the door.  "I'll call you tomorrow afternoon,
all right?"

   "Sure."

   "Bye." And with that, he was gone.

   Candace shoved a finger into her pussy, desperately trying to bring back
the excitememnt she'd felt just a moment before.  She came a minute later,
but it was a stale orgasm, devoid of the passion she felt when she was with
Rick.  As she came down, she wondered why he hadn't wanted to do it with
her.  Maybe he just wasn't turned on enough.  She'd have to do something
about that.  She would go shopping tomorrow morning...

   Rick struggled to calm himself as he drove away.  He could have had it,
he could've made love to her right then and there, and she would have let
him do it.  But he hadn't.  He'd been planning to, but he hadn't.  And it
was hardest thing he'd ever not done.

   The damndest thing was, he still didn't know why he'd left without
screwing her.  He'd gotten her so incredibly hot that she'd wanted to do
it, wanted to feel him inside her, and he'd known she wanted it.  But some
little voice inside him had told him to wait, had told him that the time
wasn't right, that if he did it now he'd be throwing away something
incredible.

   The last time he'd gotten this sort of advice from within himself had
been the time he'd stolen the hypnosis drug.  And look what that'd gotten
him!  So against all his urges, Rick had pulled away and left.  And now he
was as horny as he'd ever been in his life, driving away from a woman he
knew would eagerly welcome him inside her.

   Why, why, why?  He almost banged his head against the dashboard in
frustration.  Making love to Candace would consummate their relationship.
After spending a night of passion with him and waking up in his arms, she
would love him forever.  He was sure of that.  That was what he wanted,
wasn't it?  After all, he loved her!

   Didn't he?

   Without being entirely aware of what he was doing, Rick stopped at an
ATM machine and withdrew a large wad of cash.

   From there he was drawn to "The Strip", the area of town where most of
the adult entertainment clubs were located.  Still proceeding on impulse,
he started driving up and down the streets past the clubs.

   His eyes roved over the hookers prowling the club parking lots.  As
drunk, horny men came out of the clubs, they would make offers. 
Occasionally Rick saw a deal being struck, and one of the prostitutes would
get into a car with a man.  But most of them were still without business.
The night was young yet.

   Rick had seen these women before, when he'd been driving through this
section of town on his way somewhere else, and once when he'd come to one
of these clubs for a friend's bachelor party.  But he'd never taken any
real notice of them.

   Now, though, he watched them walk on their high heels, asses swaying,
watched them smile at potential customers, even licking their lips
occasionally.  He was fascinated, and strangely attracted to them, these
women whose business was sex.

   He cruised past the clubs for five or ten minutes, looking over the
hookers with an appraising eye.

   Most were past their prime, women in their late thirties and forties
relying on too-small halter tops to push up their sagging breasts and
makeup to cover the lines on their faces.  And many had a hardened, cynical
look to them, a certain narrowness in the eyes, no doubt from years of
working the streets.

   And then Rick saw one that was different.  She wore the same sort of
clothes the others did - a hot pink halter top, black leather skirt slit up
the side, fishnet stockings and spkied heels - but the body underneath was
younger, firmer, with a tight ass and large, firm tits.

   Her makeup was similarly overdone - bright pink lipstick, eyeshadow,
blond hair teased up around her head - but the face underneath was young
and pretty, less hardened than those of her colleagues.  Eighteen or
nineteen, he guessed.

   Rick pulled into the parking lot next to her and rolled down a window.
She looked up at him, smiling automatically.  "Hey, big guy!  Want a
girlfriend?"

   "Maybe." Rick smiled back.  "What's it cost?"

   "A hundred."

   "For what?"

   "A screw.  Fifty for a blowjob."

   "How much to come back to my place and stay there all night?"

   Her shaded eyebrowd arched.  "Five hundred."

   Rick pulled several hundred dollar bills off the wad in his pocket. 
"Here's eight.  Pretend like you enjoy it."

   The girl blinked, then cautiously took the money from his hand.  She
counted the bills and smiled, stuffing them into her purse.

   "Okay, mister.  I'm your happy girlfriend." She walked around to the
passenger door.  Rick opened it, and she climbed in, the plastic bracelets
on her arms clinking merrily.  "What's your name, stud?" she asked.

   "Rick.  What's yours?"

   "Bambi."

   Rick smiled.  Something about the name excited him.  He had his own
private slut for the night.

   Half an hour later, they arrived at Rick's apartment.  He ushered Bambi
inside, and told her to sit on the couch.  After getting some drinks, Rick
sat down next to her.  They talked casually for about five minutes.

   "So, Bambi, how about a blowjob?" Rick asked suddenly, deciding to take
charge of the situation.

   Bambi took on a poorly faked look of shock.  "I'm not that easy!  You've
got to warm me up first, honey." A coy smile followed this last remark.

   Rick surprised himself with the anger of his response.  His hand reached
out and grasped a fistful of blonde hair, yanking it backwards.  Bambi
shrieked as her head jerked back.

   "Listen, you little tramp, I don't know what you usually do when you're
earning your living screwing customers, but tonight I'm paying you eight
hundred dollars to be my personal whore, and you're going to do exactly
what I tell you, when I tell you.  Understand?"

   "O-O-Okay, sir.  Wh-Whatever you want."

   "Good," Rick growled, leting go of her hair.  "Now suck my cock, bitch."


   Bambi shuddered at his language, but quickly began fumbling with his
zipper.  Rick leaned back, enjoying himself as he watched the hooker pull
his hard cock out of his pants.  He didn't know why he'd exploded in rage
so suddenly, but he liked the effect.  The little slut wasn't playing hard
to get now, was she?

   Rick let out a moan as Bambi's shiny red lips encircled his cock.  God,
it felt so good.  All the tensions that had been created by the whole
incident with Candace melted away, draining out through his cock into
Bambi's mouth.

   Why did this feel so goddamn good?  Rick wondered about that.  He'd
gotten head before, several times, and he'd always enjoyed it.  Women he'd
loved had gently, tenderly, caressed his cock with their mouths, bringing
him to powerful orgasms.  But this was different.

   The sensation he got from watching Bambi's glossy red lips slide up and
down his cock was...  electric.  The plastic hoops dangling from her
earlobes swung back and forth as she pumped up and down on his shaft.  He
needed to fuck her, and he needed it now.

   Rick pushed Bambi's head off his cock.  Her eyes met his, questioningly,
showing a slight glint of fear.  "On your back, slut," he commanded.  Bambi
obeyed without question, falling back on the couch, raising her spiked
heels into the air and spreading her stocking-wrapped legs.  Her skirt fell
open, revealing the soft pink folds of her cunt.

   Rick looked down at her pussy lips as he crawled forward between her
legs.  They glistened with wetness.  Not that easy, huh?  Rick smiled.  The
bitch had gotten wet just from having a cock in her mouth.  And now she
would do whatever he wanted for the rest of the night.  He was in complete
control, and she was nothing but a toy for him to use however he wanted. 
With a groan of pure pleasure, Rick thrust his cock into Bambi's waiting
pussy.

   She let out a gasp at his entry.  "I'm gonna fuck your brains out, you
cheap little slut," he murmured.  Babmi's only response was a squeal as his
cock took a long stroke in and out of her pussy.

   Whether the squeal came from pleasure or pain he couldn't tell.  And he
didn't care.  The bitch was his toy.  A thought crossed his mind.  He could
keep Bambi, threaten and intimidate her, make her stay here after tonight,
his permanent whore, his own personal slut.

   As quickly as the thought had entered his mind, though, it was
discarded. People might come looking for her.  An angry pimp.  It would be
impossible to keep her from escaping.  And even on his new salary, there
was no way he could afford to hire her for the long term.  No, he couldn't
keep her, and that was that.

   But Candace...

   The truth hit him like a hammer, almost physically jarring him. 
Suddenly, all the little mysteries surrounding his relationship with
Candace clicked into place, revealing the pattern behind all that he'd
done.

   He didn't love Candace, and he never had.  Love was based on mutual
respect, on trust, on a willingness on the part of both people to make
themselves emotionally dependent on each other.  A sharing of power.  And
they'd never had that.

   In the beginning, Candace had held all the power, using him to get free
dinners, making him wait for her before dates, and teasing him mercilessly.
He'd been the victim of a certain puppy-dog infatuation, but no more than
that.  Not love.

   The drug had changed all that.  Now he had the power.  He could incite
fierce passions in her with nothing more than a look.  He could influence
her mode of dress by addicting her to these passions.  And he knew he could
make love to her, if he wanted, and she would respond eagerly.

   But he didn't love her.  Oh, she loved him, he was sure of that.  She'd
follow him to the ends of the Earth.  But for all its strength, her love
was artificial, forced upon her by the drug.  He could never love someone
over whom he had such control.  No, he didn't want to make love to her.

   He wanted to fuck her.

   He wanted to use her body for his own pleasure, just as he was doing now
with the body of the whore writhing on the couch underneath him.  He wanted
Candace to be a slut, a cheap piece of trash who'd live for cock, like the
woman in the magazine.  He wanted her to dress like a whore, doing or
saying anything to satisfy her craving for a good fucking.  Not the tender,
passionate, caring caresses of a lover, but hard, dirty, forceful use by
her master.

   Rick throbbed in Bambi's cunt as he dreamed of what was to come.  His
cock was swollen with passion, with lust, but more than anything, it was
swollen with power.  He had the power, and he knew it.

   He would bend Candace to his will, molding her into the perfect slut. 
In time, she would be little more than a walking, breathing sex doll, a
well-tuned fucking machine.  And when the time came to be used, she would
beg for it.  Like the cheap slut she was.

   Rick's balls ignited at the thought.  His cock pistoned in and out of
Bambi's cunt with a frenzied speed, his orgasm coming to a head.  Bambi
squealed underneath him as his cock exploded, shooting hot, sticky wads of
jism into the whore's cunt.  Rick shuddered as he felt his power, felt it
flowing from him, taking possesion of the cheap slut beneath him.  She was
nothing more than a toy, a puppet under his control, a slave to his power.
And soon, Candace would be too.

   Candace's Education Three



   Candace slept almost until noon the next morning, yet still felt groggy
and half-asleep when she woke up.  She had slept poorly, her mind wracked
by confusion over Rick's behavior.  A night of lying awake thinking about
it had failed to bring any insights as to why he had passed up the chance
to go to bed with her.

   She was scared.  Scared at the strength of her own desire for him. 
Scared at what she would become if he satisfied her desire.  Scared of the
possibility that he wouldn't and she would be left wanting.  Never before
had a man aroused such feelings in her.  She stumbled in the shower and
stood there, the water running over her body, thinking.  She stood there
for nearly two hours before emerging, feeling fresher, with a clear sense
of resolve.

   She was going to end it.  She was going to pick up the phone, call him,
and end it.  He would ask to see her, to talk about it in person, and she
would refuse.

   She had to do it over the phone, out of reach of his influence, out of
reach of that...  that power he had, to make her lose control.

   She would end it.  And then she would throw out all those clothes she
had bought since they'd started dating, the ones that displayed her body
like a museum exhibit, the ones that stripped her of her dignity.

   And she would put it all behind her, and go back to being the old,
independent Candace, who needed nothing and wanted nothing from men.

   Nothing.  She was going to do it.  She finished drying her hair and sat
on the bed, calming herself.  Her hand reached for the phone.  It rang. 
Candace jumped at the sound, jerking away from the phone.  It rang again,
and she slowly reached out to it.  She picked it up on the third ring and
put it to her ear.  "Hello?"

   "Candace?" The voice was Rick's.

   Oh, God!  she thought.  No, no, no!  She was supposed to call him.  Her
courage, her dedication of moments before evaporated at the sound of his
voice.  She began to tremble.

   "Candace?  Are you there?"

   "Oh!  Y-yes."

   "Are you all right, honey?"

   "Yes, yes, I'm fine." A soft heat entered her groin.

   "Okay...  So how about dinner tonight?"

   No.  No.  I don't want to go out with you, Rick.  I don't want to see
you again.  Stay away from me.  "Uh...  okay."

   "Great.  See you at eight?"

   She fought the rising fire.  Don't let him do this to you, she screamed
at herself.  "Okay."

   "Great.  I love you."

   "I...  I love you, too.  Bye." She hung up the phone, shaking as she
fought her own body.  He had done this to her without her even seeing him!
A wave of passion washed over her as she fell back on the bed.  Her hands
shot to her clitoris and went furiously to work, her worries forgotten in
the heat of the moment.

   She came furiously, her back arching as she writhed on the bed,
screaming Rick's name.  She needed him so badly, needed to feel him inside
her, filling her.  She didn't care what she had to wear, what she had to
turn herself into, just as long as she could get him inside her.

   After her breathing returned to normal, she got up and got dressed.  She
had some shopping to do.

   Rick hung up the phone, grinning happily.  Candace was hooked, and well
on her way to becoming the whore he wanted her to be.

   He was especially happy that morning, having gotten his money's worth
out of Bambi.  He'd fucked her four more times that night.  Each time, he'd
had her warm him up with a blowjob.  She always did whatever he asked.

   He'd pounded into her violently, using her like a rag doll.  He could
tell she wasn't enjoying it, but she obeyed out of fear.

   Although he enjoyed the fact that she was afraid, doing this against her
will, he knew the sex would've been better if she'd been enjoying it.

   But that was what Candace was for, wasn't it?

   Rick picked the phone up again, dialing Damon Briggs.  He was going to
be starting work the next day, and wanted to be sure things were all set up
for his return.

   The phone picked up.  "Damon Briggs."

   "Damon, this is Rick Logan.  I wanted to make sure everything's set for
me to start tomorrow."



   "Rick!  Good to hear from you.  Gadsen left yesterday.  Your office is
open and everything's ready for you.  Personnel has scheduled several of
the applicants for secretarial positions to come by your office to be
interviewed tomorrow.  You can pick your new secretary from them."

   Rick had forgotten about the fact that he was going to have his own
secretary.  It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now he was
wondering if it wasn't a liability.  He was going to have to spend a
morning interviewing applicants.

   And then he was going to have to spend several months dealing with a
new, inexperienced secretary, at a time when he was learning the ropes
himself.  What he needed was someone experienced, someone who had been
around long enough to learn the office politics, help him through tight
spots.  Someone like...

   Rick thought furiously.  What exactly had he told Briggs?  Could Briggs
be manipulated over the phone?  Well, it was worth a try.  "We need to have
a talk, Damon," Rick enunciated clearly.

   The line went dead.  Briggs would be getting up to get himself some
coffee.  Rick spent the next thirty minutes pacing nervously, wondering if
this was going to work.  When he'd conditioned Briggs, he had been assuming
that he would always be able to come in and speak to Briggs face-to-face.
He wasn't sure whether Briggs would answer the phone in a suggestible
state. Well, if he failed, the worst that could happen is that he would
have to wait until tomorrow to straighten this out.

   When Rick dialed again half an hour later, Briggs picked up immediately.
"Hello?"

   "It's Rick."

   "Hello, Rick, I've been expecting you to call."

   Rick sighed in relief.  "Now, about my new secretary.  Don't you think
it's dangerous for me to have a new, inexperienced secretary during my
first few months in a new job?"

   "Well, yes, now that you mention it..."

   "What I need is an experienced secretary, someone who's been in the
department for awhile."

   "Hmmm.  Yes, you need someone who's got some experience..."

   "Like Jennifer."

   "Hmmm...  Well, yes, but she's my secretary."

   "But we already have applicants for secretarial jobs coming up to the
department tomorrow, anyway.  You could transfer Jennifer to me, and then
interview the applicants yourself, and choose a replacement from them."

   "Yes...  Yes, that sounds like a good idea.  I've decided to make
Jennifer your secretary."

   "That's great news, Mr.  Briggs!" Rick said, acting as though Briggs had
come up with the idea himself.  "I'll look forward to working with her."

   Rick whistled happily to himself as he walked up the stairs to Candace's
apartment.  He was pleased with himself for securing Jennifer as a
secretary.  It would be good to have a knowledgeable friend assisting him
in his new job.

   He knocked on the door, anticipating a pleasurable evening looking at
Candace's body, arousing her.  And then at the end, he would...  leave her
hanging.  The door opened, and Rick choked on his breath in spite of
himself.  God, she was hot.

   Candace seemed to have taken a quantum leap in her choice of clothing.
She wore a black strech dress that hugged every curve of her body, stopping
several inches above the knee and leaving her arms bare.  Her legs were
wrapped in black stockings and balanced on a pair of four-inch black spiked
heels.

   Her hair was standing out at much more than its normal volume; clearly
she had teased it out with some mousse.  Faint traces of eyeshadow and
mascara graced her face, and her lips shone with a shiny, bright red lip
gloss.  Not bad, Rick thought.  He hadn't expected her to go this far quite
yet.  "You look incredible."

   She blushed, and Rick thought he saw a triumphant grin flash across her
face.  "Thank you."

   Rick smiled inwardly.  No doubt the bitch thought she was going to get
fucked tonight.  Well, fine with him.  Let her think that.

   Candace could barely contain her excitement as she led Rick up the
stairs to her apartment.  This was it!  She was sure of it.  All through
dinner Rick's eyes had been riveted to her body.  It had been so exciting,
so arousing.  Finally, he was going to be inside her, filling her pussy.

   She giggled at that.  She'd never considered using the word "pussy"
before, thinking of it as a word used by men to objectify women.  Well, she
thought, what was the matter with being an object once in awhile if that
was what it took to get your pussy filled?  She tittered again at the
thought of the word.

   "You sure seem giggly tonight," Rick commented.

   "Oh, that's just the effect you have on me," she replied, opening the
door to the apartment.  She showed him inside.  Rick insisted that she
relax while he went into the kitchen to make drinks.  How chivalrous of
him!

   She seated herself on the couch, quickly pulling out her makeup mirror
and touching up her face.  She knew that her chances of getting fucked
depended heavily on her appearance.  She had to look as sexy as possible.

   Rick returned with drinks just as she slipped the makeup back into her
purse.  They sat and drank for awhile.  They talked.  After awhile, Candace
got bored.  Her enthusiasm for the conversation waned.  She wanted Rick to
fuck her.  But he just kept talking and talking and talking...

   Rick watched as Candace's face took on the usual dazed look that meant
she was under the drug.  Once he was sure, he launched right into the
questioning.

   "How are you feeling?"

   "Frustrated."

   "Horny?"

   "Yes.  I want you to make love to me so bad..."

   "But I still won't do it, and that's what's frustrating?"

   "Well...  that's part of it."

   "And what else?"

   "Well...  I feel like...  like a hypocrite."

   Rick paused to chew over her words.  This could be useful, but he had to
be careful.  "Because you're an assistant editor at Woman's Work?"

   "Yeah..."

   "Because you've talked and written about how important it is for women
to be independent?"

   "Yeah..."

   "And now you find yourself wanting me sexually?"

   She trembled.  "Yeah..."

   "Needing me to make love to you?"

   "Oh, yesss...  I need you so baaaad..." Her eyes closed and her hand
crept toward her crotch.

   Rick squirmed around as his erection fought through his pants.  No!  He
couldn't give in!

   "So...  So you feel like you're betraying everything you stand for?"
Rick blurted.

   "Yeah, I feel...  like a hypocrite." Her excitement seemed to abate
somewhat at being reminded of this, and the hand that had been moving
toward her pussy fell off to one side.  Rick was able to calm himself down,
and sighed in relief.

   "It's not just everything you've ever said, is it?  You're betraying
everything you've ever thought."

   "Yeah..."

   Rick made a show of sighing in sympathy.  "Poor Candace.  Boy, this
wouldn't happen to a lot of women."

   "Wha...?"

   "Well, I just mean that some women don't think about these things.  Some
women just don't think much at all, do they?"

   "Well, no..."

   "And those stupid bimbos sure do get a lot of sex, don't they?"

   "Yeah...  they get a lot..."

   This was working just fine.  "Wouldn't it be easier if you were
stupider? Then you wouldn't have to worry about whether you were betraying
anything."

   "Yeah...  Easier..."

   "Well, from now on, I think you're going to find that it hurts when you
try to think about things like that.  When you try to think about how women
should behave, what their role in society should be, and things like that,
you're going to get a headache."

   "Okay..."

   "It's going to hurt to think about things like that."

   "Okay..."

   "It'll be a whole lot easier not to think."

   "Okay..."



   Rick led her through the usual suggestions -- buy some more revealing
clothes, get some higher heels, wear a little more makeup.  Candace agreed
quietly with each of them.  Then he led her through the
forget-this-conversation routine and waited for the drug to wear off.

   When she was fully in control of herself again, he made his excuses and
left.  She didn't protest, but he could easily sense her disappointment.

   Rick was in a dark mood as he parked his car in the executive lot the
next morning.  Despite the fact that he was starting a new job at about
three times his previous salary, he was feeling tense and frustrated.  It
had taken a lot of nerve to walk out on Candace the night before.

   She had looked unbelievably fuckable in the clothes she'd been wearing.
He could picture her now, lying on her back, the dress bunched up around
her waist and pulled down from the neck to expose her tits, the black
spikes of her heels pointing at the ceiling as she spread her legs to take
his cock...

   But not yet.  He could push her further, with a little more work.

   But it was so unnerving to have a hot woman like Candace practically
begging for him.  Rick used the elevator ride up to the marketing floor to
compose himself, forcing his face into a smile.  He should be enjoying the
day, after all.

   The door opened, and Rick strolled through the marketing department to
the spacious corner office of the Assistant Director of Marketing.

   As he approached, he caught sight of the secretary's desk outside the
office door, and a young, shapely woman bent over it, scribbling something
on a piece of paper.  Rick paused, curious. The long skirt she was wearing
hid her legs from view, but the smooth curve of her behind was clearly
visible as she bent over the desk.  The no-nonsense business blouse
obscured, but could not completely conceal, the fullness of her breasts.

   Her lightly curled black hair hung in front of her shoulder in lustrous
tresses, bouncing ever so slightly as her hand moved across the page in
front of her and hiding her face from Rick's view.  Rick watched in
fascination as she finished writing and stood up, tossing her hair back
over her shoulder and giving him a good look at her face.  It was Jennifer!


   Rick's jaw dropped.  He closed his mouth after a few seconds, belatedly
remembering his earlier hypnotic suggestion to her.  He'd counted on her
losing weight, but he hadn't expected her to come out looking like this. 
The face was more or less the same, although the weight loss had had some
effect - her cheeks were noticeably less puffy, and the face as a whole was
more streamlined.  Sexier.

   Rick had earlier assumed Jennifer to be about thirty or so, but now she
looked younger - twenty-five, tops.  Rick forced the amazement out of his
expression and called to her as he continued walking toward the desk.

   "Rick!" she exclaimed, rushing toward him and giving him a friendly, but
enthusiastic, hug.  Rick returned the affection.  Her body, previously
almost mushy with excess fat, now had a firm, but soft feel to it.  Rick
felt like he could go on holding her all day.

   Jennifer broke the embrace and stepped back.  "Oh, I'm so excited we'll
be working together.  You should've seen Briggs when he came out to tell me
the news..."

   Rick lost track of what she was saying as he examined her face.  He
couldn't get over how beautiful she was.  How could this gorgeous creature
have been hiding in the overweight secretary he'd known a month earlier? 
Or had she been this attractive all along, and he'd just never noticed?

   "...  and so even though this is technically a demotion, since you're
under Briggs, I'd still rather be here, working for you, than back where I
was, having to put up with the old pit bull every day."

   Rick jerked himself back to reality.  "Well, I'm glad to have you, Jen.
This is going to be a lot of fun."

   They spent the first week getting settled in the new office.  Rick met
with most of the senior members of the department, in an effort to get a
feel for what had been going on there under Gadsen, the former assistant
director.  He gathered input on what projects should be continued, and
which ones were best dropped.

   Jennifer, however, was his most useful source of information.  In her
previous capacity as Briggs' secretary, she'd been privy to a lot of
department secrets, all of which she shared with Rick.  She was also quite
intelligent.  By the end of the week, Rick found himself often calling on
her for advice or suggestions.

   Candace banged her fist on the desktop in frustration.  It just wasn't
coming!  For the fifteenth time in as many minutes she read the meager two
lines of text on the monitor.

   It was supposed to be her opinion piece on the effect of recent Supreme
Court decsisions on the women's movement.  She'd had over a week to do it,
and all she'd managed was two pathetic lines.

   Her head was pounding.  She'd taken a couple of painkillers less than an
hour ago, but they seemed to have had no effect on the headache.  She
focused her eyes on the monitor again and tried to think.  Last week, when
Carol, the editor-in- chief, had given her the assignment, she had had so
many good ideas about what to write.  For the last week, however, she'd
been unable to remember a single damn one of them.

   "Candace?"

   She looked up to see Lisa standing in the doorway to her office.  Lisa
was a summer intern, going into her third year of college in the fall. 
Candace found her obnoxious as all hell.  "Yes, Lisa?" she sighed, leaning
back.

   Lisa had some questions about an article she was working on.  Stupid
questions, in Candace's opinion.  Questions that any college junior
shouldn't have had to ask.  Candace answered them all, struggling not to
let her irritation show.

   The only reason Lisa was an intern at Woman's Work was that she had
grown up next door to Carol, and Carol positively adored Lisa.  Candace was
quite sure that Carol's opinion would change if she actually had to work
with Lisa directly.  But she didn't.  Candace was stuck with that
unfortunate task.

   Lisa finished her string of questions and picked up her stuff to leave.
At last, Candace thought.  Just as she was leaving, Lisa turned to speak to
her.

   "Candace, I've known Carol all my life, and I thought I should tell you
that if you're going to dress like that, maybe you should try not to let
her see you."

   Candace fumed.  "How I choose to dress is none of your business, Lisa,"
she said icily.

   "Sorry," Lisa replied unconvincingly.  "Just trying to help you out."
She was gone before Candace could reply.  Candace closed her eyes and
counted to ten, thinking of ways to kill Lisa.  The damndest thing was that
Lisa would almost certainly get a job at the magazine once she graduated.
All because Carol liked her.

   Candace adjusted her skirt, pulling it as far down her legs as it would
go.  She'd only started wearing a skirt to the office in the last week or
so.  She knew what her colleagues were likely to think, but dammit, the
leers she got from men on te way to and from work made her so hot!

   Lisa had been intentionally baiting her.  The girl didn't understand how
pleasant it could be for a woman to have men looking at her body.  And
Candace knew that if she wanted to, Lisa could have plenty of men staring
at her.  The girl just needed a good roll in the hay.

   Which is exactly what I need, Candace thought to herself.

   Rick arrived at work on Monday of the second week of his new job
expecting to be greeted by a smiling Jennifer, informing him of the
appointments he had that morning.  It was always a pleasure to be greeted
by a bright, cheerful face in the morning.  Thus, he was quite surprised to
find the chair behind Jennifer's desk empty.

   Fifteen minutes later, surprise yielded to panic when it became apparent
that Jennifer's absence was not the result of an early-morning trip to the
restroom.  Rick grabbed the appointment calender from her besk and began
flipping through it, trying to discover what he was supposed to be doing
this morning.

   Regional sales meeting at nine...  and he was supposed to be presenting
the forecast for the next quarter.  Rick glanced at his watch.  Forty-five
minutes to prepare the presentation.  Viewgraphs - where the hell did she
keep the viewgraphs?  Two hours later, Rick flopped onto the couch in his
office, exhausted.  With a lot of running around, he'd managed to find four
of the six viewgraphs for the presentation, as well as the speaking notes
Jennifer had typed up for him.

   The presentation had gone less than perfectly - Briggs had seemed
disappointed in his performance - but it hadn't feel like a career-killer,
either.  He might have to do a little work on Briggs with the drug to fix
the damage, though.

   But where the hell was Jennifer?  It wasn't like her to do this.  Even
if she'd had trouble starting her car, or had gotten seriously sick over
the weekend, she would have at least called, rather than leaving him in the
lurch like this.

   Rick knew that he should be angry about her unexplained absence, but he
wasn't.  Rather, he was consumed by a gnawing worry.  What could have
happened to Jennifer?

   Ten minutes later, the office doors flew open and Jennifer burst in, her
face red and moist.  "Oh, God, Rick, I'm sorry I'm late.  I swear this
won't happen again.  I'm so sorry..." She looked down at him, on the verge
of tears.  Rick stood quickly and put his hands on her shoulders as
Jennifer continued to stammer apologies.  "I should have at least called,
told you I'd be late.  I..."

   Rick shushed her, placing a hand on her mouth.  "It's all right, Jen. 
Why don't you sit down and we'll talk about it?" Meekly, Jennifer allowed
herself to be lowered to the couch, her face downcast.  Rick sat opposite
her.  "Now, what's the matter?"

   Jennifer looked up at him.  "H-how did the meeting g-go?" she stammered.


   "Don't worry about the meeting!" Rick exclaimed.  "It was fine.  What
I'm worried about is you!  What's the matter?" "Oh, Rick, I..." She paused,
took a deep swallow, and began again.  "It was this guy I-I've been
s-seeing.  Last night was our th-third date.  We went to dinner, and a
m-movie.  You know..." She paused again to clear her throat.  Rick fought
down a twinge of jealousy.  He had no right to feel that way, he knew.

   "Afterward, we went back to his p-place, to...  you know...  I mean, we
didn't say that was what we were going to do, b-but we both knew it.  And I
would have, too, but..." She turned away, drawing a ragged breath before
continuing.  Rick watched as her chest heaved prettily.

   "I wanted to talk first, you know, s-so we could g- get c-comfortable.
B-but he...  wouldn't..." She broke off again and began crying.  Rick
leaned over and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her protectively,
patting the back of her head.  "It was s-scary..." she sobbed.  "I ran
outside..." Rick squeezed her tightly, boiling with anger.  How dare that
bastard try that with his Jennifer.

   His Jennifer.  Rick had never felt so possessive towards her before.  So
protective.  He wanted to hold her, shield her from all the bad things the
world could do to such a beautiful creature.  Rick released his embrace and
leaned back, looking her in the eyes.  They sat like for a moment, silent
except for Jennifer's soft crying.

   "I d-don't want to do it like that," Jennifer said between sobs, looking
into Rick's eyes.  "I w-want it to be with s-someone I can talk t-to,
someone I c-can t-tell all my..." She stopped speaking and looked away,
embarassed.

   "Someone like me, you mean?" Rick said gently.

   "I-I'm sorry, Rick.  We've been through this before.  I know you're
n-not..." Rick placed a hand on her cheek and gently turned her face back
toward him.  She looked at him, her big brown eyes wide open.  At that
moment she was the most gorgeous creature Rick had ever seen.  "There's
nothing to be sorry about," he whispered, leaning forward.

   "Oh, Rick..." Her lips were soft and wet on his.  They kissed
passionately, tongues dancing in the dark wetness.  Jennifer gripped Rick's
shoulders, pulling his body tightly against hers.  After an eternity, they
broke apart, gazing into each other's eyes.  Then they kissed again.

   Rick gently reached downward to cup her breast.  Jennifer's hands
responded by running from Rick's shoulders down his flanks, gripping his
hips and pulling his pelvis to meet hers.  Their lips parted, and Jennifer
moaned softly.  Rick nuzzled the smooth curve where her neck met her
shoulder.  "Rick...  I need you...  take me." she moaned.  Her pelvis
ground against his as though punctuating her words.

   Rick paused, taken aback.  "Here?"

   "Please...  I've never felt like this before...  please..." Her moan
increased in volume.

   Rick silenced her with his lips.  He was worried about someone hearing
them.  And the office doors were unlocked!

   Jennifer's crotch rubbed against his once again, fueling the fire
blazing in him.  "Hurry..." she moaned.  Rick fumbled with his belt buckle,
working desperately to free his cock.

   Jennifer's legs swung up off the couch, encircling his waist, trying to
pull him into her.  Her hands dropped to her waist, pulling up the dark
businesslike skirt she wore.  "Riiiick...  do it..."

   Rick succeeded in unzipping his fly and pulling his pants down.  His
manhood sprung free, erect and ready.  "Hurrryyyy..." Jennifer moaned. 
Needing no further encouragement, Rick pushed Jennifer's white cotton
panties aside and thrust into the moistness between her legs.  Jennifer
groaned loudly at his entry.

   The wetness inside her gripped him tightly, squeezing him and bringing
pleasure he'd never dreamt of.  She rocked against his hips, trying to draw
him deeper as her mouth nibbled hungrily at his neck.  Rick groaned and
began to respond, taking soft, slow strokes.

   The made love tenderly at first, savoring the contact, the communion
between them.  Soon, though, Jennifer picked up the pace, her insistent
humping bringing Rick to ever higher levels of pleasure.  Her lips roamed
all over his face and neck, occasionally emitting a soft moan as he cupped
her breast or tweaked an erect nipple.

   Their lovemaking built to a powerful crescendo, Jennifer gripping Rick's
shoulders tighly, her back arched, head thrown back as her womanhood
clenched him tightly.  Rick came powerfully, emptying himself in fierce
spurts.  As their simultanous orgasms ebbed, the two lovers relaxed,
nestled confortably in each other's arms on the couch.  Rick shrank and
withdrew from an exhausted Jennifer.

   Jennifer sighed contentedly.  "God, that was unbelieveable."

   "You were wonderful, too," Rick responded.

   "I had forgotten what it was like.  I...  I mean, I haven't made love to
a man since...  since high school." Her breathing began to shake.  "After
that I..." she paused for a moment, an almost stricken look crossing her
face.  "Well, after awhile, I started eating...  a lot..." "Shhhh..." Rick
soothed.

   But Jennifer continued.  "It's only been since I g-got back in shape
that men have even started l-looking at me again.  I...  always felt so...
ugly..." She looked as though she was on the verge of crying again.

   "You've always been beautiful where it counts," Rick told her.  "I'm
sorry I was too stupid to see that before now."

   She looked up at him, tears falling down her face.  "Oh, Rick..." She
kissed him and closed her eyes, resting her head softly on his chest.

   Jennifer used Rick's washroom to fix up her appearance, redoing her
makeup and straightening her hair and clothes.  The rest of the day flew by
as they struggled to make up for lost time.

   Jennifer went about her work with a zest that was unusual even for her,
with a bright sparkle in her eye and a spring in her step.  Whenever she
was around Rick, she looked at him with almost puppylike adoration, like a
teenage girl suffering her first crush.

   Rick told her to leave at the usual time, despite her late arrival in
the morning, but she insisted on working late to make up for lost time. 
She came into his office to give him a deep, sensual kiss before he left.
"See you tomorrow," he told her.  She grinned happily.

   Rick took Candace out that evening, feeling guilty about what he'd done
with Jennifer, yet charged with sexual energy.

   Candace had gone to the greatest length yet to get what she wanted from
him.  Her hair, loosely curled, fell across bare shoulders, just touching
the low-cut shoulderless stretch top.

   Being several sizes too small, the top pushed her breasts up into their
fullest possible appearance.  The top ended just below her breasts, leaving
her midriff bare above the tight, ass-hugging skirt.  Her legs were wrapped
in black stockings, and her feet fit comfortably into a pair of shiny black
stiletto heels.

   Only the fact that her makeup was well within the bounds of social
acceptability kept her from looking like a hooker.  As it was, though, she
looked quite the slut.  The college boys at the table next to them at
dinner couldn't keep their eyes off her.

   Rick had no trouble letting his eyes wander all over her body. 
Candace's excitement at this was obvious; several times she let out low,
barely audible moans.  Rick pretended not to notice, although he was paying
very close attention to her reactions.

   He found her conversation to be somewhat limited.  Simpler.  Several
times she'd seemed to be thinking of something to say, only to wince
slightly and remain silent.  Those things she did say seemed noticeably
less insightful than was her usual.

   Clearly Rick's suggestion about thinking was having the desired effect.
Rick welcomed the opportunity to talk about whatever he wanted, rather than
having to listen to her yammering about women's this and women's that.

   On the drive home, Candace fell into a suggestible state, thanks to the
drug Rick had slipped into her drink.  Once he was satisfied that she was
safely under the drug's influence, he started questioning her.  "Candace,
on the nights when I come up and visit you in your apartment, what do you
after I leave?"

   "I masturbate, Rick."

   Just as he had suspected.  "I see.  And do you come when you
masturbate?" "Every time." Her body shuddered slightly, and she closed her
eyes.

   "And what do you think of when you masturbate?" He already knew the
answer to this one.

   "You, Rick.  I think of you making love to me.  I think of you coming
inside me."

   Rick smiled.  Quite the dirty talker she'd become.  Under hypnosis,
anyway, he reminded himself.  Still, he felt his cock swelling.  "You think
of me as a lover, don't you?"

   "Yes, Rick.  I want you to be my lover." She still gazed straight ahead,
as though talking to herself, but she smiled as she spoke those words, and
color rushed to her cheeks.

   "But you're getting frustrated, aren't you?"

   "Yes."

   "Why?"

   "Because you won't do it.  I've been trying so hard to make you want to
do it.  I've put on makeup, worn these skimpy dresses, bought jewelry... 
but it doesn't seem to make any difference." She was clearly unhappy.

   "You're having a hard time figuring out what to do."

   "Yes."

   "It would probably be easier if I just told you what to do, wouldn't
it?"

   A thoughtful look crossed her face.  "Yes...  yes, it would." "Then you
wouldn't have to worry about whether you were doing the right thing.  You
could just do what I told you to do, and not have to think about it.  It'd
be so much easier, and so much less stressful."

   "Yes...  it would.  You're right.  It's so frustrating."

   Careful now, Rick thought.  This was going to be tricky.  "And don't men
like to be in control?"

   Candace seemed to shudder slightly before responding.  "Yes, they do."

   "And I'd probably be more interested in having sex with you if I was in
control, right?"

   There was a pause of several seconds before Candace responded, "Yes."
Clearly she was having trouble digesting the concept of being under a man's
control.  But it seemed to be working.

   "So why don't you just do whatever I tell you from now on?"

   "O-okay," she responded nervously.  Then, with more enthusiasm, "I guess
that's the best way to get you to make love to me."

   "Good girl," Rick responded, patting her on the knee.

   They returned to Candace's apartment for the usual drinks and foreplay.
After several minutes of necking and heavy petting, Rick excused himself to
use the bathroom.  Candace let him go, watching him get up with a sort of
wistful longing in her eyes.

   Rick returned and sat on the couch next to her.

   Candace was looking at him with her usual puppy-dog adoration, but also
with a certain...  attentiveness, perhaps?  Rick decided to test the
waters. "Take off your top," he said.

   "Sure." Candace smiled and raised her arms over her head, pulling off
the skimpy, shoulderless top she had been wearing.  She put it in her lap,
leaving her breasts fully exposed.  Rick had never seen them before.  The
were smallish, but very firm, the nipples sticking out proudly.  She was
clearly excited.  Rick reached out and gently brushed one.  Candace moaned
softly, closing her eyes.

   Rick decided to try a little experiment.  He leaned back and spoke
softly.  "Keep your eyes closed and play with your nipples."

   "Yes, Rick," Candace purred.  Eyes still closed, she leaned back and
raised her fingers to her tits.  Gently she began to rub them, slowly at
first, and then a bit faster.  Her left hand grasped the nipple it was
rubbing and gently began rolling it between thumb and forefinger.

   Rick felt his cock hardening at the sight of Candace playing with her
nublie body.  He struggled to keep the excited quiver out of his voice. 
"Take off your skirt."

   "Yes..." Candace groaned.  Her hands left her breasts and went to her
hip to unbutton the tight skirt.  She slid the skirt down over her
stocking-clad legs and spiked heels.  Rick gazed at her crotch, his eyes
drinking in the sight of her soft brown bush.  He swallowed hard and forced
his voice to remain steady.  "Spread your legs," he commanded in a guttural
voice, "wide."

   Candace sighed and let one leg slide off the couch onto the floor while
the other lifted to rest on the back of the couch.  And there it was:
Candace's pussy.  The goal Rick had been striving for for months and
months. Her clitoris stood erect and begging for attention above the soft
folds of her cunt, moist with pussy juice.  Candace had subconsciously
begun to thrust her hips ever so slightly back and forth, as though fucking
an imaginary cock.

   Here before him lay the woman of his dreams.  Candace Cunningham,
assistant editor of Woman's Work, who just a few short months earlier had
been stringing him along, now lay in front of him like a cheap hooker, legs
spread, eyes closed, breathing heavily.  Her mouth was the only part of her
body that wasn't begging him to fuck her.

   Breathless with anticipation, Rick lifted himself off the couch and
unzipped his jeans, pushing them down to his knees.  He positioned himself
over Candace, placing his cockhead at the entrance to her steaming wet
pussy.  He inhaled the musky odor of her body...

   ...  and was suddenly paralyzed with guilt.  He couldn't do this!

   He sat down again, pecker still at attention, and looked at Candace. 
Her eyes were still closed; she was unaware of how close she'd come to
getting what she'd deserved for so long, and what Rick had recently brought
her to desire: a good fucking.

   But Rick found that he couldn't do it.  It wasn't out of any regard for
Candace; Rick was perfectly content to use the bitch however he wanted.  He
didn't care about Candace.

   But he did care about Jennifer.  Sweet, innocent Jennifer.  They'd made
love just once, just that morning in his office, but Rick already felt
something for her that he'd never felt in all the months he'd been with
Candace.  Jennifer thought he was the greatest person in the world.  He'd
seen it in her eyes.  He couldn't fuck Candace as long as he had feelings
for Jennifer.

   But he had to do something!  He'd go crazy if he didn't come tonight. 
He looked back at Candace.  Her hands had returned to her tits, playing
with the nipples again.  Well, he didn't have to fuck her per se...

   "Open your eyes," he commanded.  Candace obeyed.  Her eyes gravitated to
his swollen cock standing rigidly upward from his lap.  Her gaze remained
glued to it as Rick lifted himself up and positioned his cock over her
snatch, the purple head just a few inches abover her bush.

   "Put your hand around it." Candace remained mute as one hand left a
breast and wrapped itself around his shaft.  "Stroke it." Eyes wide in
wonder, she began to gently move her hand up and down his cock.

   Rick shuddered in pleasure.  "Take your other hand and play with
yourself, the way you do when you're alone." Candace lifted the other hand
from her chest and moved it to her swollen clit, which she immediately
began to rub furiously.

   Rick watched as Candace's breathing quickened and the moans coming from
her grew louder and louder.  "Mmmm...  Oh, yes...  Oh..." His own orgasm
approaching fast, Rick began thrusting his cock back and forth into
Candace's hand.  Her eyes remained glued to his cock as she jacked it off
faster and faster.

   They climaxed almost simultaneously.  Candace begain to moan loudly as
Rick's cock throbbed in her hand.  "Oh, yes, yes!  Oh, God, yes!" Her
moaning reached a crescendo as the first wads of jism flew from Rick's
cock, spashing onto her stomach.

   "Oh, yes, Rick...  Rick!  Riiiiiick!" Her eyes watched in fascination as
Rick's cock continued to spurt jism into her bush.  Rick closed his eyes,
savoring the feel of her hand on his cock as their orgasms subsided.  Rick
looked down at Candace, her legs still spread, her stomach wet with his
spunk.  He knew even though they'd both orgasmed, she would still be
unsatisfied.  She still needed a cock in her pussy.  Rick grinned inwardly
at the thought.

   "I'd better go," he said, lifting his jeans up and refastening them
about his waist.

   Candace seemed dazed.  "Okay..." she said blearily.

   "I'll call you tomorrow," Rick called over his shoulder as he walked to
the door.  He paused at the door to look back.  Candace's eyes were once
again closed, and her hand had returned to her crotch as she masturbated
herself toward another orgasm.  The come on her stomach sparkled in the
light.  Rick smiled.  Little bitch couldn't get enough, could she?

   Rick turned at left, whistling contentedly to himself.

   "...so I told Donna to just make a number up.  That's what I always did,
and the old bastard never checked up on it." Rick laughed, almost choking
on his drink, as he listened to Jennifer's story.  "She's actually doing
very well.  Hell, at the end of my first week working for Briggs, I don't
think I was doing half as well as she is now."

   "But she has you to show her the ropes," Rick pointed out, stabbing a
stray tomato that had fallen out of his sandwich.  They were eating lunch
together at a local deli.  "You had to start cold."

   "True," Jennifer replied.  "And Briggs isn't all that bad as a boss. 
Sure, he's got his foibles, but once you get used to him, he's pretty
decent.  At least he doesn't take sexual advantage of his secretaries,
unlike _some_ executives I know," she added playfully.

   "Last I checked," Rick commented, "_you_ were the one taking advantage
of _me_."

   Jennifer's carnal appetite, whetted by their lovemaking Monday morning,
had proven voracious.  Every morning that week, Jennifer had taken
advantage of some lull or other in Rick's schedule to enter his office and
have sex.

   Tuesday morning, Rick had been somewhat reluctant to go at it at 9:15
a.m., telling Jennifer that he'd prefer to wait until later in the day. 
Jennifer, however, was not so easily dissuaded, and for someone who claimed
to have been celibate for most of a decade, her powers of sexual persuasion
were quite formidable.

   Rick wound up taking her on the top of his desk, reports and memos swept
to the floor to make room for Jennifer's back.  Thereafter, Jennifer pretty
much got to have sex whenever she wanted.

   The whirlwind pace kept Rick quite satisfied.  So satisfied that he was
having trouble staying interested in Candace.  He pushed that thought out
of his mind.  He didn't like thinking about Candace when he was with
Jennifer.

   "Well, I just have to give you your ride early in the morning so you
don't spend the rest of the day harassing me," Jennifer retorted, a grin on
her face.

   "Touche," Rick responded, rising from his seat.  "If you'll excuse me a
moment..."

   "Hurry back," Jennifer called after him as he walked across the crowded
deli to the restroom.

   Rick walked out of the restroom five minutes later and began the long,
twisting walk through the dining room back to the table.  Halfway across,
he caught sight of Jennifer through the milling crowd.  She had an odd look
about her, though, gazing off into one corner of the restaurant.

   Rick followed her eyes to a table in the corner, where a waitress was
taking orders from a pair of men.  Rick felt a slight twinge of jealousy.
The men were both young, looking to be in their early twenties, and
reasonably attractive, at least as well as Rick could judge.  He could
hardly blame Jennifer for looking.

   As Rick watched, the waitress finished talking to the men and walked
away.  Rick continued his journey back to the table, but stopped short as
he looked at Jennifer again.  Here eyes were slowly tracking across the
room.  She wasn't looking at the men.  She was looking at the waitress.

   Rick froze, looking at Jennifer.  Her look was one of fascination, eyes
wide, a slight smile on her face.  The waitress, Rick thought, was quite
cute - a pert, blue-eyed blonde with generous hips and an ample bosom.

   She walked happily across the restaurant, unaware of the attention she
was recieving.  She passed through the swinging doors to the kitchen and
Rick looked back at Jennifer.  She was still gazing toward the doors.  Odd.


   Rick threaded through the crowd back to the table.  "You all right?"

   Jennifer started.  "Huh?  Oh, yeah...  I'm fine." She turned her
attention back to her meal, but not before Rick noticed a faint flush
creeping up her face.  Very odd.

   Candace led Rick into her bedroom and turned to await his instructions.
Tonight would be the night, she hoped.  Please, let tonight be the night.
She needed Rick to fuck her so badly. Fuck.  Now there was a word she'd
never liked, and never thought she'd ever use, even in her own head.  It
was the word men used to twist sex from a consensual act between two people
into an act of male dominance.

   Two people could have sex, or make love, but only a man could fuck a
woman.  But now, she wanted to be dominated.  She was willing to do
anything to get her pussy fucked by Rick's hard cock.

   Those were two more words she'd never thought she'd use.  But on the
ride home that evening, it had occurred to her to use those words, even in
her own thoughts.  After all, men used those words all the time, and if she
wanted Rick to fuck her, it might help to start using them herself.  Even
using them in her own thoughts might help her to act like the subservient
sex object that men wanted her to be.  That Rick wanted her to be.

   Every night for the last two weeks, ever since that first time she'd
touched his cock, Rick had come over to her apartment and...  Well, Rick
hadn't fucked her yet, had he?  Somehow she was always expecting it, but it
never came.  Invariably, she'd wind up jacking Rick off and fingering
herself.  It was pleasurable, but she wasn't getting fucked, dammit!  She
looked at Rick, mentally begging him to fuck her.

   Rick sat on the edge of the bed and looked at her.  "On your knees," he
commanded tersely.

   "Yes, master," Candace responded.  This was another trick she'd thought
up on the ride home.  Calling Rick "master" would hopefully make her seem
more docile, more willing to let him do whatever he wanted.  That was what
men wanted, after all.  And as with the other concepts, it was important
for her to use them in her own mind as well as when she spoke.  Candace
dropped to her knees in front of her master, looking up at him expectantly.


   "Take out my cock, bitch," Rick muttered.  Candace almost swooned at his
use of that word.  Three months ago, she would have been horrified to be
called a bitch, but now she took it as a sign that Rick was going to fuck
her.  She wanted him to think of her as his bitch, his slut, his fuck-toy.
She had mentally resolved in the car to think of herself as Rick's personal
slut.

   Why did all her best ideas come to her when she was in the car with Rick
on the way back to her apartment?  Maybe it was just a good time to think.
She had come up with a lot of good ideas while Rick had just blabbed on and
on.

   She hated going out with him now, because all she could think about when
they went out to dinner or a movie was when he was going to fuck her pussy
with his hard cock.  I love him dearly, she thought, but I wish he'd stop
talking so much and just fuck me!

   Returning from her reverie, Candace reached up to unfasten Rick's belt
and unzip his pants.

   His stiff cock sprang into view, causing Candace to gasp in wonder. 
She'd seen it and touched it so many times, but each time she saw it she
was struck again by its beauty.  A thick pole of flesh capped by a purple
bulb, its surface crisscrossed by thick red veins.

   She felt the inside of her pussy aching with desire.  She needed it
inside her so badly.  She needed to be penetrated.

   Please, master, she pleaded mentally, fuck me!  Fuck your bitch!  As
hard as you want.  I don't care how much it hurts.  Use me like a rag doll.

   But she remained slient, looking up at Rick, who smiled down at her. 
"Suck it, slut."

   Her cunt felt warm at that word.  Nervous, but with a growing confidence
that she was close to getting fucked, Candace leaned forward to brush the
head of his cock with her lips.  She knew why men liked having a bitch suck
their cocks.

   It was a way for them to experience the pleasure of fucking while
denying the bitch the pleasure of being fucked.  For a bitch to suck a
man's cock was the ultimate act of self-degradation, an admission that her
own pleasure was unimportant, that she was just a toy for him to do with as
he pleased.

   Candace eagerly dove on her master's cock, taking first the swollen
purple head, then several inches of the rigid shaft into her throat.  She
had thought about how best to do this on the drive home, and needed no time
to experiment.  She swiftly began to pump her head up and down on his cock,
using her tongue to caress the underside of the shaft.  She moved one hand
up to grip the base.

   Rick groaned loudly.  "That's it, bitch." Candace thrilled again and
redoubled her efforts.  "Play with yourself, slut," he commanded.  Candace
eagerly moved her hand under the hem of her skirt and began rubbing her
swollen clitoris in time with the movements of her head.

   She felt Rick's hands in her hair, guiding her head up and down. 
"You're quite the little cocksucker, aren't you?" The derisive tone of
Rick's question thrilled her.  Yes, she wanted to scream, treat me like a
piece of meat.  Fuck me!

   Candace apporached orgasm as Rick gently pushed her head off his cock.
Rick stood up, towering over her.  This is it, she thought, he's going to
fuck me!  Please, please, please!  She looked up at him and ran the tip of
her tongue over her upper lip in a gesture calculated to get her pussy
filled.

   Rick smiled back, but didn't join her on the floor.  Rather, he
positioned himself so that his cock, with her hand still holding it at the
base, was directly above her upturned face.  "Jack me off, slut," Rick
commanded.

   Candace eagerly jerked her hand up and down on her master's cock, just
as she had so many times in the last two weeks.  With her other hand, she
continued to rub her swollen clit.  "Close your eyes, bitch," Rick
commanded as she felt his cock start to throb in her hand.  His hands
grasped the sides of her head.

   She felt her master's cock pulse mightily in her hand, followed an
instant later by a splash of wetness on her cheek.  Her instinct was to
flinch, to turn away, but Rick's hands held her firmly in place.  His cock
throbbed again, and she felt another splash on her forehead.

   She knew what was happening.  Rick was ejaculating on her face...  Not
ejaculating!  Rick was coming on her face.  His semen...  No, no, you're a
slut, dammit!  Think like a bitch in heat!  His jism, his spunk, was
covering her face, marking her as his bitch, his possession.  That was all
she wanted to be.  Soon he would fuck her.

   The thought sent her sex-starved cunt over the edge.  Her orgasm racked
her as Rick's jism continued to dribble onto her face.

   She groaned in pleasure and fell to the floor, writhing in ecstasy as
the flow of cum subsided, her hands working furiously at her clit. 
Screaming in pleasure, she climaxed, all the muscles in her body tensing at
once as waves of pleasure crashed over her.

   Rick watched as Candace spasmed on the floor in front of him.  God, he'd
never expected that.  The slut sure got off on getting her face plastered.
The old Candace, the militant feminist, had been sorely in need of a good
facial.  It sure was exciting to see the bitch get what she deserved.

   But there were problems coming.  Rick couldn't continue to see Candace
much longer.  It was already getting difficult to keep Jennifer from
finding out.  Jennifer, of course, would never suspect Rick was getting a
blowjob every evening from a slut like Candace, but sooner or later she
would find out.  And that would be trouble.

   More importantly, though, Rick felt like a real shithead doing that to
Jennifer.  He knew how strongly she felt about him.  He was pretty sure she
loved him, and he was beginning to suspect that he was in love with her,
too.  And he couldn't do that to someone he loved.

   He looked down at the bimbo on the floor, her cum-coverd body still
shuddering as her orgasm subsided.  She'd sucked him off, taken his jism on
her face, and fingered herself to orgasm, all without even taking her
clothes off.  What a slut.

   Candace's breathing slowed to almost a normal rate, and she opened her
eyes, looking up at him.  There was still a look of pleading in her eyes.
The bitch wanted to be fucked.  Too bad, Rick thought.  "Go into the
bathroom and clean yourself up, slut."

   "Yes, master," Candace replied meekly.  She struggled to her feet and
staggered into the bathroom, the spiked heels making it difficult for her
to walk.  Rick noticed that her ass and legs seemed quite a bit less skinny
these days.  Was she working out?

   How could he possibly give this up?  Every night for the past two weeks,
he'd come over to Candace's apartment to use her.

   He didn't even have to bother with taking her out to dinner anymore
unless he was planning to "teach" her something new.

   The first night he'd come over unannounced, she hadn't been wearing
makeup and had been hanging around the house in jeans and a T-shirt.  Rick
had used her, of course, but dropped a lot of obvious hints that he was
displeased with her appearance.

   The next night he had shown up to find the bitch waiting in a
tight-fitting black mesh bodysuit, wearing a pair of shiny black
slut-pumps, matching pink lipstick and nail polish, silvery hoop earrings
four inches in diameter, her hair curled into lustrous tresses.  Clearly,
the slut had learned a new lesson - to always be ready for use by her
master.  (Although it hadn't been until tonight that she'd actually used
the word "master".)

   Rick sighed.  He had to face the fact that he was addicted to Candace.
Not that sex with Jennifer wasn't great; it was.  Jennifer had become quite
skilled in any number of things in the last few weeks, and she was always
eager to learn new techniques.  She and Rick had brought each other to so
many mind- blowing orgasms that Rick had lost count.  But Jennifer was a
lover, a woman.  Only one side of Rick was satisfied with a woman.  The
other side needed a bitch.

   What the hell was he going to do?  He sure as hell had to do something.
And he had to do it tonight.  Rick looked around the room desperately.  A
dresser, a closet, a desk with some papers strewn on it, a mirror.  No help
there.

   Candace strode out of the bathroom again.  Her face was wiped clean of
the come that had covered it minutes earlier, and her makeup had been
reapplied.  Rick's cock stirred at the thought of the slut reapplying her
makeup between uses.  "Go get a glass of water and bring it here, bitch,"
Rick ordered.

   "Yes, master," Candace responded, turning and walking out of the room.
She returned a minute later with a class full of water, which she held out
to him, assuming he wanted to drink it.

   Rick pulled the vial of drug out of his pocket and opened it, carefully
squeezing five drops into the water.

   Candace watched without comment.  When he had finished, Rick recapped
the vial and replaced it in his pocket.

   "Drink it, slut," he ordered.

   Candace immediately lifted the glass to her lips and began to drink. 
Rick watched her throat flex as she sucked down swallow after swallow of
the water.

   It was a testament to how completely she had surrendered her will that
she didn't think to even question what he was doing.

   Truly she was his to do with as he pleased, to use and abuse.

   Candace finished the glass and lowered it, looking at him expectantly.
For a few seconds they just stood there, staring at each other.

   Rick saw in Candace's face a challenge - a challenge to determine what
he was going to do.

   For the first time since he'd started using the drug, Candace's gaze
made him uncomfortable.  He knew he had a decision to make.

   After a long pause, Rick began to speak.





   Candace's Education ENDING ONE



   "Lie down on the bed, bitch."

   Candace complied quickly, positioning herself faceup on the bed.  Her
legs were spread slightly, stetching the black leather miniskirt taut and
almost allowing a glimps of her pussy.  Rick would soon be getting more
than a glimpse.

   Rick shrugged off his clothes and climbed up onto the bed, standing on
his knees next to Candace's supine form.  His cock hung half-erect,
pointing at Candace.  "Blow me, bitch."

   Candace squirmed around to a position in front of Rick and bent her head
to his member.  Wrapping one hand around the base of his cock, she began to
suck eagerly, pumping her head up and down his shaft.

   Rick's cock swelled again as he recieved the second blowjob of the night
from the slut.  Already she was improving.  He placed his hands on the
sides of her head, modulating her pace.  It felt so good.

   He was tempted to come in her mouth, to shoot his sperm down her throat.
She wouldn't enjoy it, but she'd accept it.  But he couldn't do that now.
There was something else he had to do.  Just this once.  And then never
again.  Never.

   Rick gently pushed Candace's head off his cock.  "Lie down, bitch," he
growled.  Candace quickly flopped down on her back, spreading her legs as
far as the tight skirt would allow.  She looked up with her doe-like eyes,
gazing eagerly at him.  She was finally going to get it.

   "Lift your skirt, slut," Rick commanded.  Candace eagerly reached down,
grabbing a fist full of leather and yanking upwards.  The skirt bunched
around her waist, leaving her glistening wet pussy exposed.  Her breathing
was rapid now as she continued to stare raptly at Rick.

   Rick lifted her legs, still clad in stockings and spiked heels and
placed them over his shoulders.  He positioned his swollen purple cockhead
at the entrance to her fuck tunnel and met her gaze.  "Do you want to get
fucked, bitch?"

   Candace's head nodded slowly even before she started to speak.  "Yes,
master," she whispered.

   "Beg me to fuck your worthless cunt."

   Candace paused for a second, then began to squeal.  "Please, master,
fuck me, fuck me with your hard cock."

   "You'll have to do better than that."

   Candace's voice rose in pitch, her sdesperation showing.  "Pleeeease,
master.  I'm your cheap little slut, begging you to fuck her juicy cunt
with your long, hard cock!  Please, master, split your whore in two with
your stiff prick and come inside her!"

   Her hips were making jerking motions toward his cock, as though tring to
grab it and pull it inside.  "Please, use your fuck-hungry bitch to sheath
your throbbing tool!  Use me like a rag doll and spurt your hot jism all
over my slutty face!  Just fuck meeeeeee!"

   Rick shoved his cock deep inside Candace's sopping wet snatch.  Candace
screamed in ecstacy, The feeling was like nothing he'd ever experienced. 
She was so tight!  He paused for a moment, his cock embedded in the slut's
steaming pussy, savoring the pressure on his shaft.  Candace's scream
faded, to be replaced by a shallow series of audible pants.  "Keep talking,
bitch!" Rick admonished.

   "Oh, yes, master," she groaned, "fuck your dirty little slut!  Fill up
her wet pussy with your hot jism!" Rick withdrew his cock until only the
head was engulfed in the folds of Candace's cunt, then thrust it back in
again to the hilt, eliciting another shriek of pleasure from Candace.  Rick
paced himself, trying to keep things slow to get the most enjoyment
possible from this, since he wasn't going to do this again.  Ever.

   Candace squealed rhythmically as Rick pistoned his cock in and out of
her pussy.  At last, she was getting fucked!  It had taken him so long!

   The pleasure was like nothing she had ever felt before.  She savored
each thrust, each new penetration of the throbbing member that threatened
to split her open.  Each time Rick withdrew his cock, she felt like crying
in despair, and each time he shoved his manhood deep inside her again she
felt happier than she'd ever felt before in her life.

   And each time, in the instant of complete penetration, when Rick's cock
completely filled her, she regretted each and every man she'd ever brushed
off in her life.  How many chances to get fucked had she let go to waste?
How many possible masters had she passed up?

   Her orgasm built deep within her, an unstoppable tidal wave of pleasure.
Rick was fucking her faster now, harder, and she could feel his cock
throbbing mightily within her.  He had pulled the fabric of her halter top
down off her breasts and his hands were now mauling the soft, tender flesh
there as he fucked her more and more urgently, but Candace scarcely
noticed. Her attention was focused on the cock filling her cunt.

   Suddenly the dam broke; she felt Rick's cock squirt a load of jism into
the deepest recesses of her cunt.  The feeling of her master coming deep
inside her was too much.  Candace climaxed, shrieking in ecstasy as Rick
continued to spurt his come into her pussy.  The come filled her cunt and
began to overflow; she felt it dripping out of her pussy around Rick's
cock, which continued to squirt come.

   At last her orgasm subsided, and Candace's body allowed itself to relax.
She could feel the come dripping from her cunt around Rick's still-engorged
cock.  It was all perfect.

   Her master had fucked her.

   Rick watched as Candace's eyes glazed over.  The drug hadn't taken
effect yet; this was just a post-fucking stupor.  He gently removed his
cock from her sopping wet cunt, allowing rivulets of come to stream out
after it, pooling on the bed.  "Stay here," he ordered.

   "Yes, master," came the weak reply.

   Rick took a shower while waiting for the drug to take effect, and then
dressed himself, whitling happily all the while.  He went back into the
bedroom to find Candace still lying where he'd left her, skirt bunched up
around the waist, jism dripping from her cunt.  Rick sat down beside her.

   "Candace?"

   "Hmmmm?" She was definitely under the effect of the drug.

   "What just happened?"

   "I got fucked."

   "Did you enjoy it?"

   A smile crept slowly across her face.  "Yes, master, I enjoyed it very
much."

   "And you want to get fucked again, don't you?"

   "Ohhhhh, yessssss..." she groaned.  A hand drifted down absently to play
with her clit.

   "But you don't know if I'm good at it or not, do you?"

   "You...  were...  real good..."

   "But maybe another man could fuck you better than I did."

   "Um...  Maybe..."

   "So really, you'd be better off getting fucked by someone else next
time, wouldn't you?"

   This took awhile to sink in.  "G...  Guess so..."

   "But then, you won't know if he's the best, either.  So you'd want to
get fucked by someone else after that."

   "Uh...  yeah..."

   "What you really need, Candace, is to get fucked by a whole lot of
different men."

   "Yeah...  fucked...  lots of men..."

   "In fact, it'd be really convenient if you could get a job where all you
do is get fucked by a lot of men all the time."

   "J-Job...  yeah..."

   "Now what kind of job might that be?"

   One Year Later --------------

   Rick fidgeted on the couch, flipping through the channels yet again,
bored out of his skull.  A Friday night and Jennifer was out of town. 
Normally they would have gone out for dinner, or dancing, or even just
stayed home and gone to bed early.  But she was in Phoenix until tomorrow
afternoon.  Thank God at least they still had Saturday night.

   Jennifer had gotten the Assistant Manager for Procurement position at
about the time they'd gotten married, six months ago.  That had been a big
step up for her, and she'd made it entirely on her own; Rick hadn't used
the hypnotic drug on anyone in over a year.

   Jennifer had had to pinch-hit for Rick on a major presentation to the
company CEO when Rick had come down with mono and been rushed to the
hospital.  The CEO had been so impressed with the young secretary's
performance he had offered her the vacant procurement position.

   It had meant an end to their daytime sexual escapades in the office, but
they'd dealt with that just fine; they made up for it at night.  And even
having offices on different floors of the building didn't preclude an
occasional fifteen-minute "consultation".

   The downside of Jennifer's new job was that she spent a lot of time on
the road, leaving Rick to fend for himself for a few days.  He was eagerly
anticipating her return tomorrow; he had a welcome planned that would sweep
her off her feet.  And into the sack.  Rick had to admit there was another
downside; their sex had been missing something since her promotion.  She
seemed to still like it just fine, but Rick missed the idea of fucking his
secretary.

   Not that the sex wasn't still great, and not that he regretted
Jennifer's promotion, but there had been something exciting about having
sex with someone who was subordinate to him.  A sense of...  what? 
Control? He'd been getting the feeling quite a lot, lately, that he'd once
had something else.  He couldn't quite put his finger on it...

   The phone rang, and Rick picked it up.  Jennifer at the airport a day
early, maybe?

   "I have a collect call from Jennifer Logan.  Will you accept charges?"

   "Yeah, yeah," Rick replied.  "Jen?"

   "Hi, honey!"

   "Hey!  How's my little noodle doing in Arizona?"

   "Well, that's the bad news, honey.  The supplier is balking at the
contract we negotiated.  They're just stonewalling to get a better deal,
but it looks like it's going to keep me here until Thursday, at least."

   Rick groaned.  "Dammit.  Well, if that's the way it is."

   "'Fraid so, honey.  Listen, I gotta get back to work here."

   "All right.  Call me later."

   "I won't be free here until midnight.  I'll call you tomorrow." "Okay.
Love you."

   "Love you.  Bye."

   Rick hung up and sighed.  Dammit.  Another five days of being horny and
alone.  He retuned to channel-surfing.  Surely in 83 channels there had to
be something on.

   "...deny any involvement..."

   "...kiss me, Eric..."

   "...another rebound for..."

   "...YOURS for only twenty-nine..."

   "...you bitch..."

   "...antelope can run at speeds of over..."

   Rick paused.  Bitch.  The word resonated with him.  He flipped back one
channel.  The show was a prime-time soap opera.  The young man on screen
was yelling at a young woman wearing high heels and a skintight dress.

   "You slept with my brother, you slut!" Rick thought it odd that he would
consider her a slut just for sleeping with another man.  Hell, in that
dress, she looked respectable compared to...  Candace.

   Rick hadn't thought of her in over a year.  Memories suddenly came
flooding back.  Candace walking on six-inch spiked heels, her ass swaying
back and forth inside a black leather skirt...

   Rick tried to push the memories out of his mind.  No, no, don't think
about it.  Candace running her tongue across a glossy, pink upper lip...

   Rick remembered hypnotizing himself to not think of her.  He realized
his mistake: he'd forgotten that post- hypnotic suggestions weren't
permanent; they weakened over time.

   Candace on her knees, looking up at him as her lips enveloped his
cock...

   Rick was overwhelmed as a year of repressed rememberings washed over him
at once.  He closed his eyes, struggling to regain control of his head. 
But the images wouldn't stop.

   Candace panting and moaning as Rick thrust his cock deep into her
cunt...

   A year of repressed sexual urges came with the memories; Rick discovered
that his cock was straining against his jeans.  He was more aroused than he
had over been in his life.

   Candace thrusting her tits upward as her back arched in a violent
orgasm, her pussy squeezing his cock tightly...

   A phone number jumped unbidden into his head.  In all this time, he'd
never rememberd, but neither had he forgotten.

   His mental stability returning, Rick picked up the phone off the coffee
table and dialed the number.  The line rang twice before it was picked up.
"Starlight Escorts," announced a feminine voice.

   Rick's throat was raw.  "I'd like to see one of your girls tonight."

   "Certainly, sir.  We'll send our next available girl to you as soon
as..."

   "I mean a specific girl." There was a slight pause.  "Who did you have
in mind, sir?"

   Rick was silent for a few seconds before he could force it out. 
"Candace." The first time he'd said that name in a long time.

   There was another pause.  "Sir, she won't be available for two hours. 
If you'd like to..."

   "I'll wait."

   "Very well, sir." The receptionist took Rick's address, warned him that
Candace might be late, and hung up.  Rick leaned back, and exhaled deeply.
He was back in control of himself, but he was a very different man than
he'd been five minutes ago.

   The post-hypnotic suggestion he'd given himself had worn thin over the
course of a year.  But what of the suggestions he'd given Candace?

   "Oh, yeah, honey, that's good.  Do me hard, baby.  Yeah, that's it."
Candace recited her lines from memory, hoping they would hurry this jerk to
orgasm and get her out of his house.  The white hair he'd combed over his
bald spot was falling off, and Candace found the whole scene extremely
unarousing.

   A year ago, it wouldn't have turned her off, she recalled.  A year ago,
when she'd first started, even this rude geezer would have been able to
send her to a furious climax just by sticking his wrinkled cock into her
cunt.  But after awhile, her sexual ardor had trailed off.

   These days, the occasional young stud could still bring her to orgasm,
but that seemed to happen only once every few days now.  In between, she
faked orgasms with her clients and masturbated after work.

   It looked as though she was going to have to fake one soon.  The geezer
had started breathing faster, and picked up the pace of his humping. 
Candace prayed he didn't have a heart attack.  He was so fat she'd probably
never escape.

   She tried to hurry his orgasm along by humping back at him and launching
into the series of cries she knew by memory.  "Nnggh...  oh...  yes... 
yes...  mmmm...  oh, God...  this is incredible...  yes...  harder... 
harder...  nngh...  mmm...  YES!  YES!  YES!"

   Candace congratulated herself on a job well done as she felt the
geezer's cock throb pathetically inside her, a sensation rendered almost
indetectable by the condom he wore.

   At first she'd resented having to use a condom, because it interfered
with her pleasure.  Recently, though, she'd come to appreciate it, since it
kept her from having to clean up every time.  And most of the time, she
wasn't going to get off anyway, so the condom hardly hurt in that respect.

   The geezer grunted in satisfaction and rolled off of her.  Candace got
up and picked her clothes up off the floor.  It was her usual summer
uniform - a lightweight cotton shirt, white, which she wore unbuttoned and
tied in a knot under her breasts, and a pair of extra-short denim cutoffs
with a few tantalizingly placed holes.

   A pair of fire- engine red "fuck-me" pumps completed the ensemble.

   The geezer lifted himself up and watched her as she dressed, staring
unabashedly.

   Asshole, Candace thought.  When she'd first arrived, he'd acted as
though she was some sort of upper-crust, high-society rich girl paying a
social call.

   He'd done his pathetically inadequate best to be charming, pretending to
be interested in her as a person.  Now that it was over with, he just
looked at her like she was a piece of meant.  Candace hated the hypocrisy;
at least the honest ones didn't waste all your time beforehand with drinks
and conversation.

   "You know, you're quite a sexy little bitch."

   Candace swooned, almost falling before grabbing the top of the dresser
to steady herself.  She hated the bastard for calling her a bitch, and she
hated herself for enjoying it.  But he hadn't paid yet, so she had to be
nice.

   "Thanks, honey.  You're not too bad yourself," she said in the sweetest
voice she could muster, standing upright.  She liked it better when she got
paid up front, but the geezer was a regualar customer of the service, so
she had to let him pay afterwards.

   The transaction was concluded without any further interchange, thank
God, and Candace left the house as quickly as she could, thinking all the
while.  Why the hell did she enjoy being called a bitch?

   Somehow verbal degradation seemed to get her excited.  She was convinced
by now that something traumatic had happened to her a year ago, something
so horrible she was repressing the memories.  After all, why would a
successful reporter for a leading feminist magazine suddenly quit her job
and go to work as a call girl?

   The work had seemed fascinating at first, but lately she'd started to
lose interest.  She had toyed with the idea of getting out of the business
before, but now she was considering it seriously.  Tomorrow was her day
off, and she had an appointment with a therapist.  It was time to sort out
her feelings and get some answers.  She climbed into her car and retrieved
the pager from the glove compartment.  The light was flashing and a new
address came up on the LCD screen.  Last one tonight.  She wiped off her
makeup with a tissue and washed her face with a few handfuls of water from
a thermos.  She always took her makeup off after a job; it was invariably
smeared and needed to be redone.

   She sighed and began to drive.  Maybe today was her lucky day, and this
next one would be under 40.  It would be nice not to have to frig herself
to orgasm tonight.

   Candace pulled up at the address she'd recieved on her beeper.  It was a
small, modern townhouse in a recently built housing development.  This was
the sort of area that recently married young couples tended to live in. 
Candace tended not to get many calls from areas like these.

   Most of her customers were either older - living in more expensive
houses - or unmarried - living in apartments in the city.  Chances were it
was some horny husband whose wife was out of town, looking for a quick bite
of the forbidden fruit, too stupid to think about the possible consequences
of the neighbors seeing a scantily clad young woman coming by in the
evening.  Oh, well.  Not her loss.

   Candace examined herself in her makeup mirror, giving her hair a slight
tease.  At her employer's suggestion, she had had it cut to a sassy
shoulder-length style and dyed strawberry blonde when she'd first started
working as a call girl.

   Since that time, she had come to respect the wisdom of that suggestion;
her customers seemed crazy about the look.  Often she styled it so that it
curled inward slightly to touch her cheeks; men seemed to go wild at the
feel of her hair brushing against their balls when she gave head.

   She reapplied her makeup slowly and carefully.  If the behavior of the
fat old bastard she'd just serviced hadn't been enough motivation to find a
new line of work, having to apply her makeup for the umpteenth time that
day certainly was.  A year ago, she'd loved to paint her face.

   There had been something arousing about making herself look like the
complete slut, getting ready to blow the mind of her next customer.  She'd
even reapplied her makeup immediately after wiping the old stuff off,
before driving to her next job, because she'd enjoyed the feeling of
looking like a tramp.

   She remembered getting pulled over for speeding in her first week on the
job, and how the officer had been so dumbstruck by her appearance.  It had
been on a backwoods road late at night, so she'd put on her best
bimbo-voice and stood in front of the officer, asking if he couldn't please
forgive her for being a naughty girl, such a bad girl.

   She remembered the look on his face as she'd removed his policeman's cap
and put it on her head before kneeling, pulling out his cock, and giving
him one of her masterful blowjobs,

   She paused occasionally to remark on how she'd always wanted to get
fucked in the backseat of a police car.  The officer had been willing to
oblige, of course, and had come not once, but twice, once in her pussy and
once on her face.

   Looking back, it amazed her not so much that she'd done it, but that
she'd enjoyed it so much.  But that had been in the days when she'd
relished the thought of being a slut, a whore.  A bitch.  Hearing the words
themselves spoken to her still gave her a certain thrill.

   But she no longer used them in her own mind.  She no longer aspired to
be a slut.  The last time she'd gotten pulled over, she hadn't even tried
to seduce the officer.  Her heart just wasn't in it anymore.  She had to
quit.

   She finished applying her makeup and squared her shoulders.  She was
going to get this one over with, and quit.

   She got out of the car and walked to the door, ringing the bell.  A
muffled voice from inside the house yelled, "Come in!"

   Candace opened the door and took a few steps inside.  She could see
parts of a dining room, a kitchen, and a living room from where she stood.
No one was visible.  "Hello?" she called, "I'm looking for Rick."

   "That's me, honey," a distant voice called back.  "Have a seat.  I'll be
right out."

   Candace walked into the living room and sat down on the edge of a couch,
looking around the room.  The room was quite tastefully decorated.  There
was obviously a woman's touch involved.

   Candace smiled a little at that.  Married men were often more
interesting customers.  Something about adultery excited men at a primal
level.  They were born to be assholes.  She almost laughed at the thought.

   A year ago, when she'd been a feminist journalist, she'd thought the
same thing, but for almost entirely different reasons.  It was funny how
one's thoughts came full circle.

   She spied a picture on the fireplace mantel of a happy young couple. 
Something about it disturbed her.

   Candace stood up and walked over to the fireplace, peering at the
picture.  The woman was a beauty, with strong classical features and soft,
thick, curly brown hair.  The man was...  familiar...  she couldn't quite
place it, but...

   She remembered.

   Her knees buckled and she fell, catching herself on the mantel.  She
fought the surge of memories suddenly unleashed into her mind.  No, it
couldn't be...  That couldn't have happened...  "I...  I didn't do that!"
she protested.

   "I see you remember me, slut."

   Candace whirled to face the source of the voice.  It was...  him...

   Master.

   He stood there, hands in his pockets, leaning nonchalantly in the hall
doorway, wearing the same smirk he'd worn when she'd begged him to fuck
her.

   "N-no..." she pleaded, shrinking away from him.  It didn't happen, she
told herself, it couldn't have happened.

   "Yes, I'm afraid so, my little bitch," he replied casually, standing and
strolling slowly toward her.

   Candace groaned at the electric thrill the word sent though her spine.
It was so much stronger than what she'd felt when the old man had called
her a bitch, because she understood now.  She had been this man's bitch. 
"Stay away," she pleaded.  "Don't come near me, you asshole."

   He stopped, a look of amusement on his face.  "Oh, come now, is that any
way to talk to the man who brought you such pleasure?"

   "Get away from me, I mean it!" The words rang hollow, even to her.

   He was walking toward her again.  "That doesn't sound like the Candace I
know.  The Candace I know would've begged me to touch her, to feel her, to
use her.  You were such a slut back then.  All you wanted me to do was fuck
you like the hot little bitch you are.  You still do, don't you?"

   He was standing in front of her as she flattened herself against the
sliding glass door next to the fireplace.  Her breath came in shallow pants
as terror and arousal battled within her.

   "You...  it was you...  You made me want it...  I don't know how, you
bastard, but you made me do it.  You made me..." She knew it was true.  It
was the only explanation.

   He only shrugged.  "Maybe I did.  It's not important now.  What's
important is that you're my bitch, and I've decided to make use of you
again."

   "You bastard!" she screamed, tears running down her face, ruining the
makeup.  "What gives you the right to do this to me?"

   "Nothing.  You were a cock teaser, always promising but never
delivering. I did it because you were an uppity little cunt and I thought
you needed a good fucking.  So I made you my bitch.  And now you're going
to suck my cock.  Here, I'll help." He unzipped hus pants and pulled them
down, his hard pecker springing into view.

   Candace froze in terror at the sight.  She'd seen so many cocks over the
last year - big ones, small ones, long ones, fat ones -and she'd touched
them, sucked them, taken them up her cunt and even her ass, but this one
terrified her.  It called to her.  She felt her willpower crumbling.  "Suck
my cock, now," Rick commanded.

   Candace spun around, scrambling at the handle of the sliding glass door.
She jerked her arms against it twice, but it was locked.  Desperately she
clawed at the lock switch, but her inch-long red talons prevented her
getting a grip on it, and the tears pouring from her eyes blurred her
vision.  Sme beat a fist against the door as she slowly sunk to the ground,
sobbing, curling her arms around her head.

   "I said, suck my cock, whore," Rick commanded.

   Candace lifted her head a little, peering out from behind her shielding
arms at Rick's cock.  Her master's cock...  No, she couldn't.

   But she wanted to.  Slowly she lowered her arms.  Maybe he'd fuck her.
She wanted him to fuck her.  She needed him to fuck her.

   "Blow me, bitch!" her master commanded.

   Candace rose to her knees and brought her head up to face his crotch. 
Slowly she extended her tongue to lick the tip.  She'd forgotten how good
her master's cock tasted.  A small part of her still protested, but the
voice was getting fainter all the time.

   Her lips enveloped the purple head and she sucked luxuriously.

   She felt her master's hands on her head, pushing her down onto his cock.
A sensation she hadn't felt in over a year, but more familiar to her than
breathing.

   She slowly began to pump her head up and down on his cock, returning to
a world that felt like home.

   Rick leaned against the door with one hand, steadying himself against
the wave of pleasure he felt at the feel of his slut's mouth enveloping his
cock.  The feeling was old and familiar.  How could he have ever left this
behind?

   He looked down at the whore's face.  The haircut and dyejob looked good.
He hardly recognized the militant feminist he'd once dated behing the
makeup and jewelry.  And her cocksucking technique!  God, he'd never
realized how good she'd be after spending a year fucking for a living.  He
closed his eyes end enjoyed the feel of her tongue swirling around his
shaft as he guided her head up and down his member.

   The knowledge of the danger he'd been in only moments before made it all
the more exciting to be using this tramp.  He'd been almost terrified when
she'd failed to respond immediately to his approach.

   The conditioning had worn thin.  It had taken all his nerve to remain
calm.  If he'd shown any uncertainty, she would've escaped.  It was only
his appearance of certainty that had defeated her.  And if she'd gotten
away...  well, he didn't like to think of that.

   He felt his orgasm fast approaching.  Gently, he slid Candace off his
cock.  "Take it on your face, slut," he growled.  She obeyed meekly,
positioning her face under his cock, which she grabbed with both hands and
jacked furiously.  he rested his hands on the top of her head, intertwining
his fingers into her hair as the first spurt of come landed on her
forehead.

   The bitch continued to work his prick as the second splashed on her
cheek, and the third on her nose.  By the time Rick's orgasm had subsided,
he had blown his spunk all over her face and into her hair.  Rivulets of
come ran down her neck.  What a fabulous slut.  And that was what he
needed. A slut.  Jennifer was a wonderful lover, but she could never be
this for him.  And part of him would never be satisfied unless he had a
bitch to do with as he pleased.

   Candace had fallen to a sitting position.  Her hands were inching toward
her cutoff jeans.  Slowly, she was beginning to rub herself through the
denim, a look of bliss on her jism-coated face.

   "Stop that, slut!" Rick growled.  Here eyes opened in fright, and she
froze.  The little whore would get off when and if he chose.  "Stand up!"
She complied, looking at him meekly.  "Turn around, spread your legs and
lean your hands against the door."

   Candace complied.  She had to bend over quite a bit to rest her hands
against the glass door, and her ass was thrust out in front of him.  Rick
reached a hand down and idly began stroking her groin through the denim,
eliciting a moan from Candace.  His hand wandered up and down, tracing the
outlines of her cunt through the fabric.  He found her clitoris to be fully
erect, and scratched the denim covering it.  Candace groaned and tossed her
head in pleasure.

   Rick examined the rips and tears in the cutoffs.  He selected one on her
left asscheek, only a few inches away from the crack and inserted both
hands.  He pulled it apart, and the tear expanded, its lower end migrating
downward and inward, toward her crotch, exposing the bottom end of the soft
folds of her pussy.  He stopped tearing and stuck a hand through the newly
torn hole to finger her swollen clit.  Candace groaned loudly.  Rick saw in
the reflection of her face that her eyes were closed and her lips drawn
back from gritted teeth.  The slut was enjoying this.

   Rick withdrew his hand and guided his re-erected cock into the hole,
sliding it in along the mouth of her cunt, between her pussy lips and the
fabric of the shorts.

   He heard her breathing quicken.  He began to slide his cock back and
forth, rubbing it along her labia, brushing her clitoris at the end of each
stroke.  She gave out a soft moan each time his swollen cockhead rubbed her
sensitive clit.  Her hips jerked slightly against his thrusts, as though
trying to draw him into her cunt.

   "Not so eager to get away now, are you, cunt?" Rick asked.

   "F...  F...  Fu...  Fuck me, master!" she breathed.

   "You want me to fuck you?" Rick asked in mock disbelief.  "But just a
minute ago you wanted me to get away from you.  Maybe I shouldn't fuck
you."

   "Noooo...  don't leave...  Fuck me, master."

   "Well, you'd better promise me you'll do whatever I say, that you'll be
my slut," he slid hi cock back and forth once, "my bitch," he fucked her
cuntlips again, "my little fuck-toy to do whatever I want with."

   Candace was silent.

   "Promise, bitch," Rick growled, grabbing her hair and pulling on it,
causing her neck to bend backwards.

   Candace was hyperventilating.  The cock brushing against her pussy
entrance was driving her insane.  She had to have his cock.

   "I promise, I promise," she shrieked.

   "Say it, bitch," he growled, pulling her hair just a bit harder.  "Tell
me what you'll do,"

   Candace spoke as quickly as possible, "I'll be your slut forever.  You
can fuck me whenever you want, master, wherever you want.  Fuck my cunt,
fuck my mouth and come all over your face.  I'll be your cum-hungry bitch,
eager to serve my master.  I'll be your sex-toy to play with however you
want.  Just fuck meeeee!"

   Candace felt her master's cock shift positions and slide up her cunt,
filling her up completely on the first stroke.  Oh, it felt so good.  This
was where she wanted to spend the rest of her life, impaled on her master's
cock.  She'd wrapped her cunt around a lot of pricks in the last year, but
none felt as good as this one.

   Slowly her master began to piston in and out of her sopping wet pussy.
The sensation was incredible.  She hadn't felt this good since...  since
the last time he'd fucked her.

   She felt his hands groping at her tits through the thin material of the
shirt.  His fingers wrapped around the top of the shirt and pulled down.

   She felt the shirt dig into her shoulders before tearing and hanging
limply, releasing her tits to hang free.  Her tits were somewhat larger
than they'd been a year ago, thanks to the exercises she'd been doing to
build her pectorals, but they were still just as firm.

   She felt his hands wrap around them, digging into the flesh, using her
tits as extra leverage to shove his cock far into her.

   She'd been fucked by so many cocks, many of them bigger than her
master's, but none quite so...  powerful.  Other cocks just fucked her, but
this one somehow dominated.

   Her entire body felt its power as it pistoned in and out of her.  She
felt full and complete with it inside her pussy, and empty when it left. 
She worshipped her master's cock.  The hands moved from her tits to her
hips, and the cock entered her with renewed force.  A hand grabbed her hair
and pulled, causing her back to arch.  The cock slammed into her cunt,
knocking her chest against the glass door.  Her master continued to fuck
her with wild abandon.

   The room was well-lit and the night outside dark.  Candace knew that
anyone outside could see her; she was on display like part of a live sex
show, tits mashed against the glass, hips bucking against the cock inside
her, face plastered with come.  But she didn't care.  All the cared about
was the cock brutally ramming her cunt.  Her orgasm built.

   She felt her master stiffen, his cock throbbing.  A spurt of jism shot
into her cunt.  The sensation drove her over the edge.  She hadn't felt
come in her cunt since the last time she'd been fucked by Rick.  Her orgasm
hit her like a tidal wave.  She shrieked and shrieked in pleasure as her
cunt clenched her master's cock tightly, milking it for all it was worth.
This, she knew, was where she belonged.  She would always be Rick's bitch.

   Rick hung on to the bucking whore as she thrashed through an orgasm.  He
was proud of the job he'd done training the bitch, that after so long away
from him she still reacted so strongly to getting a load of his spunk in
her snatch.  He felt his cock continue to spray jism into her as her cunt
muscles spasmed violently around it.  He leaned on her as he came, pressing
her tits into the glass of the window.  Using his bitch was such a rush.

   His orgam subsided and the torrential flood of come stopped.  He felt
his spunk seeping out of Candace's cunt around his cock.  He looked down
and saw a pool of milky white fluid collecting on the floor.  Candace
shuddered beneath him as her orgasm subsided.  Her face and hair were
covered by a mixture of sweat and jism.  She looked like quite the
fucked-out whore.

   Rick belatedly realized that the lighting conditions would allow
virtually the entire neighborhood to see the fucked- out whore.  He reached
over next to the door to turn the lights off and looked outside.  Several
lights were on, and in some of them he could see people standing, looking
his way.  It was certain that they'd seen him fucking his bitch.

   Rick sighed.  Jennifer would be leaving him, then.  There was no use
denying it.  Someone would tell her that her husband had fucked some blonde
strumpet against the glass door of her living room while she was away. 
Well, it had been bound to happen sooner or later.  Might as well do it the
easy way and not try to fight it.

   He realized he didn't care about Jennifer.  He'd miss her, but
ultimately there was nothing he wanted from her that Candace couldn't give
him.  He knew that he was a different man than he'd been two hours ago, and
that the old Rick would never have considered leaving Jennifer.  But the
tidal wave of memory had swept away that Rick, and he was who he was now.
And the man he was now needed a bitch.

   There would be downsides for sure.  Once the divorce was settled,
Jennifer would certainly be at least antagonistic if not downright hostile
to him at work.  And people would be on her side.  He'd have to leave then,
and find a job somewhere else, likely at a substantial loss in pay.

   These difficulties could be worked around.  Although he'd be making less
money, Candace already had a lucrative career as a call girl.  She could
easily bring in several hundred dollars a day.  Sure, he'd get tired of her
eventually, but now that the post-hypnotic suggestion had worn off, he
remembered the stash of the drug he'd hidden - enough to train a dozen more
bitches.  At his new job, he'd have to make sure he had a good secretary...


   But that was the future.  No matter what was coming, Jennifer wouldn't
be home until Thursday.  Plenty of time to reacquaint himself with his
bitch.  His cock, still rammed up her cunt, had softened slightly.  He ran
a hand across her left tit.  His tit.  He ran his fingers through her hair,
savoring the feeling of possession.  She was all his.  She existed for no
purpose other than to serve him.  His slut, his cunt, his bitch.

   All his.



   Candace's Education ENDING TWO



   "Go take a shower," Rick commanded.  "Clean off your makeup and come
back out when you're done.  Don't put the clothes back on."

   Candace's shoulders slumped ever so slightly in disappointment as she
turned to enter the bathroom.  Rick felt a slight pang of regret.  He'd
wanted so badly to fuck her.  But he knew he was doing the right thing.

   Rick waited on the bed while Candace showered, thinking about how best
to get out of this.  He had to make sure Candace stayed away from him from
now on.

   Candace re-emerged after half an hour, her face clean and a towel
wrapped around her midsection.  She stood in front of Rick with the dazed
look that indicated she was under the drug.

   "Lie down, " Rick instructed her, getting up from the bed.  She obeyed
promptly, stretching out along the length of the bed.  "Close your eyes."
She complied.  Rick sighed, preparing himself.  It would be a rush job, but
it should hold.  "Candace, I want you to relax and focus on the sound of my
voice." This had better work, Rick thought to himself.  "You're feeling
very sleepy.  You realize now that what you've been doing, the way you've
been behaving, is wrong.  You don't want to keep on being a slut.  You want
to go back to your old life, don't you?"

   "Mmmm...  Mmmmm...  Yeah..." she murmured.

   Rick breathed a sigh of relief.  Thank God it was working.  "You don't
want to be dominated.  You don't want me to be your master.  You want to be
in control of your own life again, the way it was before you met me."

   "Yes...  before..."

   "So why don't you just forget about me.  Forget all about me.  Never
think of me again."

   "Never..."

   "Tomorrow morning you'll wake up, and everything will be just the way it
was.  You won't need to be dominated by me anymore.  You won't ever try to
tell anyone else about what's happened between us, and you won't ever try
to hurt me.  Understand?"

   "Mmmm...  yes..."

   "Now sleep."

   Candace's head lolled, and her breathing deepened.  Rick smiled.  He'd
done it.  It had been so easy.  Things were taken care of.

   Now he had to go see someone.  Someone very important.

   Rick rang the doorbell, barely able to contain himself.  Seconds later,
it opened, revealing a damp Jennifer, a towel wrapped around her body. 
"Rick!  What are you..."

   Rick interrupted her, pulling her up into his arms and kissing her
passionately.  She was stunned for a moment, but quickly responded, her
tongue eagerly meeting his.  Rick left her lips, his mouth treaveling
downward across her neck, nipping.  massaging.  "Rick...  let me at least
finish drying off before we...  oh!" Her sentence was cut off by Rick's
tongue licking the valley between her breasts.  Her back arched as she
pressed against his tantalizing mouth.  "Oh...  Rick...  Rick...  what...
why..."

   Rick paused long enough to say, "I had to, I just suddenly had to,"
before returning his attention to her body.

   Jennifer reached out to give the door a shove, slamming it shut.  "Oh,
God, honey..." she groaned, "Take me to bed...  Take me to bed."

   She pulled herself onto Rick, wrapping her legs around his waist.  Rick
carried her down the hall before realizing he didn't know where he was.  He
paused his kissing.  "Where the hell is the bedroom?"

   Jennifer giggled uncontrollably.  "First on the left." Rick carried
Jennifer in and deposited her on the edge of the bed.  She unbuttoned his
shirt while he unzipped his pants.  His clothes fell away and she lay back
on the bed, Rick crawling on top of her.

   Rick unwrapped the towel, exposing Jennifer's nubile body.  Drops of
water clung to her skin.  Rick softly, slowly licked her stomach, drinking
up the beads, which shimmered as Jennifer's stomach rose and fell with her
breathing.  "Oh, honey, honey...  that feels so goooood..."

   Rick slowly traced a curving path down her stomach, past her navel, to
the top of her bush.  He moved down to her clitoris, flicking it gently
with his tongue.  Jennifer groaned at each contact.  "Oh, God, Rick, do
it...  please do it..."

   Rick pulled himself up until he was lying over her, their eyes locking
in anticipation.  "I love you," she whispered.

   "I love you, too." Rick entered her gently, causing her to gasp in
pleasure.

   "Oh, God, honey...  yes...  please..." Rick slowly began to move,
savoring every little gasp Jennifer gave, every groan of pleasure.  God, he
loved her.  His lips met hers, tenderly caressing.

   They climaxed together, holding onto each other like they were the last
two human beings on Earth.  When they had ridden the wave of pleasure
together, Rick slid out and lay down next to Jennifer.  They looked into
each other's eyes and saw contentment.  Bliss.

   Candace paced around the living room of her apartment, her entire body
tense.  Something was wrong.  What?  Three days ago, she'd woken up in the
morning, unable to remember what had happened the previous night.  Or the
day before it.  Or the month before that.  She'd stumbled out of bed and
into the bathroom, finding some odd items lying on the floor.

   A pink halter top, a couple sizes too small for her.  That sort of
floozy item was hardly her style anyway.  There was something sticky
staining the neckline.  She sniffed at it.  The smell was familiar, but she
couldn't place it.

   A black patent-leather miniskirt, obscenely short, with a zipper on one
side.  It smelled like...  like...  like she did after masturbating.

   A pair of bright red pumps with impossibly long heels - five inches! 
The heels were sharp spikes.  Candace realized upon inspecting the heels
that her ankles felt funny - stretched, almost.  With a mounting dread, she
slipped the heels on and stood.  She didn't lose her balance and topple to
the floor - to her alarm.  Her body knew how to stand in these heels.  Even
more alarming was the fact that her ankles felt more comfortable in the
shoes.  She had read about women's tendons shortening if they spent too
much time in high heels - had even written about it for the magazine. 
Jesus, what had she done?

   A pair of lage silver hoops lay on the counter.  Earrings.  Candace
raised a hand to her earlobe, knowing what she would find.  A puncture. 
She had had her ears pierced.

   Candace took several deep breaths to calm herself.  She realized that
she was naked.  She needed to get dressed, drink some coffee, take stock of
the situation.  She walked out of the bathroom to her closet to find
something to wear.  Opening the closet, she stifled a gasp.  The closet was
filled with clothes.  Lace bustiers, mesh bodysuits, leather boots...  Oh,
God!

   Candace ran to the phone.  Only when she got there did she realize that
she still had the heels on.  So her body knew how to move in them.  Just
one more fact pointing in an ugly direction.  She flipped through her
address book.  Several years ago, she had done a story on women in police
work.  She still had contacts.  She dialed.

   "Forensics.  Nikki Harper."

   "Nikki, this is Candace Cunningham."

   "Hey, Candace.  What's up?"

   "Listen, I need a favor, Nikki.  Discreetly." She'd followed Nikki's
instructions to the letter, and FedExed the materials to her.  Nikki had
called back two days later, informing her that she had not been raped, or
that if she had, the rapist had not ejaculated inside her.  The semen on
the halter top belonged to a man (No shit, Candace had thought), probably a
Caucasian in his twenties or thirties.  Nikki had been unable to find a
match in the national database of sex offenders.

   Which left Candace with nothing.  Clearly, some tramp had been living in
her apartment, wearing those clothes and being ejaculated on.  It also
seemed pretty clear that she had been the tramp.  Candace shuddered at the
idea.  Repugnant.  She'd found some whitish residue in spots on her bedroom
carpet.  Semen, likely.

   She'd taken a few days off from work to collect herself.  She'd held off
on calling the police.  The idea of calling in men to find out what had
happened repulsed her.  She wanted to track down the bastard herself.

   Candace flopped down in resignation and shuffled through the day's mail.
Her paycheck.  (At least she'd been working over the last month.) A phone
bill.  A whole foods catalog.

   A phone bill.  Candace tore it open eagerly.  Sure enough, the second
page contained a list of all the numbers she'd called in the last month. 
This was an optional feature the phone company offered.  She'd taken it, as
a precaution against forgetting an important number.  Now it was going to
pay off.

   Candace scanned the list, identifying the numbers she didn't recognize -
three of them.  She fired up her computer and used a nationwide
address-book CD-ROM to eliminate two of them - a bookstore and the local
"natural foods" grocery store.  The final number belonged to a Logan,
Richard W.

   Candace stared at the name for a full minute.  Richard Logan.  Something
seemed familiar about the name.  Rick Logan.  More familiar.  The CD-ROM
gave his address.  It was time to pay Mr.  Logan a visit.

   For the third time in as many minutes, Candace changed stations on the
radio of her rental car.  Damn, this was boring.  She kept her eyes glued
to the front door of the house across the street, but her mind wandered. 
She'd been waiting for five hours for this Logan asshole to get home.  It
was ten o'clock now.

   Likely he was out of town.  What if he didn't live here anymore?  How
would she find out?  Candace had seen the mail delivered earlier that day;
she could always check the mailbox.  Earlier in the day, there had been too
much chance of getting spotted.  Now, though, it was dark.  No one was
likely to see.

   Her train of thought was interrupted by a car pulling into the driveway.
Candace lifted a pair of binoculars to her eyes, examining the car.  The
driver was a woman, with a male passenger.  The man got out, his face
hidden from Candace's view as he walked slowly around to the driver's
window.  He bent over, kissing her deeply.  The man's frame, his walk, were
familiar.

   The kiss broke and the man stood up.  The car backed out of the driveway
and the man turned to watch it go.  His face was illuminated in the glare
of the streetlights.  It was him.

   Memories flooded into Candace's mind, causing her to tremble.  The
binoculars feel from her hands.  She'd been hoping against hope that she
hadn't done what all the evidence seemed to point to.  But she had.  The
memories were back.  Dammit.  That bastard.  Manipulating her like that. 
He wouldn't get away with that.  She'd hurt him.

   She'd make him pay.

   Rick pulled up to Jennifer's apartment.  He adjusted his tie carefully
in the mirror before leaving the car.  Everything had to be perfect
tonight. He patted the pocket of his coat, feeling the bulge of the
engagement ring.  He knew he should have no reason to be nervous.  Of
course Jennifer would marry him.  But still, he was jittery.

   The door was ajar.  And Jennifer was usually very energy-conscious. 
Rick pushed it open, knocking as he came.  "Honey?  I'm here!" At the lack
of a response, Rick stepped into the living room.  "Jen?  Jen?  It's me!"

   Rick caught a glimpse through the half-open bedroom door of her leg and
foot in an elegant dress shoe through the half-open bedroom door.  "Honey?
Are you all right?" He pushed the door open and stepped in.

   His eyes bulged.  Jennifer sat in the chair, dressed in a fancy evening
gown.  Her head hung limply on one shoulder and a river of blood flowed
from a gash in her neck down the front of the dress to a pool on the floor.


   "Oh, God, no, no, no," Rick muttered as he raced forward.  He placed his
fingers on the side of her neck, searching desperately for a pulse. 
Nothing.  He shifted his hand desperately.  Somewhere, somewhere.  She had
to still be alive.  She couldn't be dead yet.

   "Hello, Rick," came a familiar voice behind him.  Rick spun around in
fear.  But the carpet was slick with Jennifer's blood; Rick's shoe slipped
and he fell on his hip.  He saw Candace standing above him, a bloody knife
in her hand.  She started to move toward him, knife raised, but checked
herself.  "Looks like you won't be able to play with your newest little toy
tonight." Rick's rage boiled inside him.  "You bitch!" he screamed.  "She
did nothing to you!"

   "No, but she meant something to you.  I thought you should feel some
pain before I killed you.  Good-bye, Rick." She took a step forward,
brandishing the knife, and stopped.  Her face twisted, as though she was
struggling with something.  "Let me make it clear to you exactly what you
put me through..." she began.

   Rick spun on his hip, his foot lashing out at Candace's ankle.  There
was a solid thunk of connection, and Candace tumbled onto the floor.  Rick
scrambled desperately to his feet, his shoes sliding on the blood-slickened
floor.  He reached his feet only to find that Candace had regained hers and
was again brandishing the knife at him.  She lifted it swiftly, as though
to stab him.  Rick cowered, but Candace stopped in mid-swing.  The same
twisted look of conflict crossed her face again.  "You're going to listen
to what I have to say, Rick..."

   Suddenly Rick's terror-fogged brain understood.  The post-hypnotic
suggestion he'd given her protected him.  "You can't hurt me."

   Candace laughed in what appeared to be genuine amusement.  "Of course I
can, Rick."

   "Then do it."

   She froze for several seconds before speaking.  "Not just yet.  I want
you to understand..."

   "Kill me," Rick stated calmly.

   Candace stood still, her face quivering.

   "Kill me, bitch!" Rick screamed.  Candace remained motionless.

   Rick climbed slowly to his feet.  Candace watched, her expression
becoming one of panic.  Rick stepped in front of her, calmly prying the
knife from her grasp.  He threw it across the room.  "You goddamn fucking
bitch!" he screamed, slapping Candace hard in the jaw.  The blow sent her
reeling across the room, stumbling.  Rick walked over, grabbing the stunned
woman and hurling her into the wall.  "I left you the way you were.  You
should have been happy with it," he snarled.

   "You...  you bastard," she whimpered.  Rick slapped her again, but she
continued.  "You used me...  you made me into...  into..."

   "Into a slut?" Rick asked.  "I sure did, bitch," he yelled, slapping her
again as he spoke the word "bitch".  "I spent two months taking you out to
dinner every weekend, buying you food at those disgusting vegetarian
restaurants, putting up with your talk about how persecuted women were. 
And what did I get in return?  Nothing.  Not a single fucking kiss."
Candace had struggled back to a standing position now.  Rick hit her again,
causing her to fall to the floor before continuing his tirade.

   "Yeah, I made you into a slut.  You were a good little slut, too,
prancing around on those heels, pouting your lips, wearing tight clothes.
You looked like a cock-hungry whore.  You were always eager to take my cock
in your mouth and my jism on your face." Tears were streaming down
Candace's face now.  She had stopped struggling and curled up in a fetal
position on the floor.  "But you know what?" Rick asked.  "I never fucked
you.  Never.  I guess it was a mistake.  A bitch like you needed a good
fucking."

   Rick suddenly became aware of his erection.  Half of him felt shame, but
the other half was horny.  The dark half won.  "Well, now you're going to
get fucked, bitch," he growled, sinking to his knees. Candace shrieked in
terror and tried to stand, but Rick grabbed her arm and yanked her back to
the floor.  His anger consumed him and gave him superhuman strength, and
the posthypnotic suggestion he'd given to Candace kept her from trying to
hurt him back.  She was powerless to resist him.  A part of his mind
shouted that what he was about to do was wrong, but it was drowned out by
the torrent of rage flowing through his mind.  "No...  no...  please..."
Candace pleaded.

   "Shut up, bitch." Rick manhandled Candace, positioning her facedown in
front of him.  He picked up the knife lying next to him on the floor and
used it to cut open Candace's jeans, revealing her white cotton panties. 
He pulled at the panties, tearing them easily away from her pussy.  Dry. 
Good.  He wanted her in pain.

   Rick reached out to grab her crotch, squeezing hard.  He felt her
shudder at his touch.  "You're going to get it now, bitch.  The good hard
fucking you've always needed." Rick unzipped his pants, his erect cock
springing out to point at Candace.

   She lifted her head enough to catch sight of it, and began to scramble
desperately away from him.  Rick's hands shot out, easily grabbing hold of
her hips, lifting them up to place her ass in front of his crotch.  One
knee was sufficient to pry her legs apart, spreading her cunt wide.  The
cunt he'd lusted after for so long.

   Rick slammed his hips forward brutally, impaling the screaming bitch on
his monster erection.  His cock hurt at the dry entry, but he knew she was
in far greater pain.  Candace continued to struggle ineffectively, pinned
by Rick's shaft.

   Rick waited until Candace's scream had dwindled to a low whimper before
moving.  She shrieked as he slowly pulled his cock halfway out, feeling the
rawness of her dry pussy.  He then slammed it back in, his cockhead
touching her cervix.  Candace screamed again.  "Take it, you bitch!  Feel
my prick in your cunt!" She continued to strain against his grasp, unable
to escape.  "This is what it feels like to get fucked by a MAN!"

   Rick continued to rape her brutally.  After several strokes, he felt a
wetness on his cock.  Maybe the bitch was starting to enjoy it, he thought.
He picked up the pace of his motion.  One hand moved forward to grab the
slut's neck, shoving her face brutally to the floor.

   Candace kept fighting, but with her ass in the air, her cunt impaled on
Rick's cock, and her face being mashed into the floor by Rick's hand, she
had nowhere to go.  After a minute, her struggles subsided.  Rick laughed
out loud when he heard her start to groan in time with his thrusts. 
"You're just like any other bitch, Candace.  All that talk about a woman's
struggle for equality, about male domination of culture, about deep-rooted
sexism is all fine and good when you're dressed."

   "But once you're naked on the floor with a cock up your cunt, you're
just like any other bitch.  All you want is to be fucked.  I guess women
really are all whores." Candace didn't reply, except to begin thrusting
back at his cock with her hips.

   Rick was hysterical; his mortification at Jennifer's death had been
subsumed into rage against Candace.  A rage that he was now venting most
effectively.  He almost believed that if he raped Candace hard enough, it
would somehow bring Jennifer back.  He knew it was ludicrous, and yet he
somehow believed.

   Rick felt Candace's cunt squeezing him tight.  And the bitch had tried
to pretend she hadn't wanted it!  "Slut!  Bitch!  Whore!" Rick screamed. 
He slammed his cock forward one last time and felt wads of come explode
from its head.  Candace whimpered as her cunt filled with Rick's jism.

   It overflowed, and sticky lines of come dripped from her pussy to the
floor below.  Rick gloried in the feeling of power over this bitch.  He
should've shoved his cock up her snatch a long time ago.

   Rick withdrew his cock, its exit from Candace's pussy occuring with an
audible pop.  Candace slumped unconscious to the floor.  Rick collapsed
beside her, drained of all his stamina.  He felt delirious with power. 
He'd shown that stupid cunt who was the boss.

   He looked down at her unconscious body where it lay next to him, legs
spread, come dripping from her cunt.  Bitch.  He looked up and across the
room, to where Jennifer still sat in the chair, head lolling on one
shoulder, mouth open, eyes vacant, throat slit.  Still dead.

   Rick began to cry.  A few tears turned quickly into loud sobs wracking
his body.  His face puffy and red, Rick began to pound the floor in misery.
"Dammit!...  Dammit!...  Dammit!..." He sat there, crying and cursing
himself.

   He was still doing it ten minutes later when the police arrived.

   Candace awoke to find herself lying on a soft but firm surface that
bumped occasionally.  Her vision was a blur.  Dark shapes moved against a
light background above her.  She tried to sit up, but found herself
restrained by straps around her midesction.

   "Easy...  easy..." came a woman's voice.  "You're all right, Ms. 
Cunningham.  Everything's fine." Suddenly the world snapped, and everything
was clear.  A uniformed policewoman was speaking.  Two men in white
uniforms watched her, fiddling with various pieces of medical equipment. 
With a start, Candace realized she was in the back of an ambulance.

   "You're safe now, Ms.  Cunningham," the policewoman was saying.  "The
man who raped you is in custody now, and he'll be in prison soon.  We got a
sample of sperm from you, and that'll be enough evidence to nail the
bastard."

   Candace's mind was reeling.  "But...  but...  what about..." She tried
to sit up again, but the restraints held her.

   The policewoman's face took on a downcast expression.  "The medics
weren't able to save your friend, Ms.  Cunningham.  I'm sorry."

   "Fr...  Friend?"

   "Ms.  Cipriani?  Jennifer Cipriani?  Don't worry, we'll get him for
that, too.  His fingerprints are on the knife.  The bastard's going to get
life, at least."

   Candace blinked a few times before her dizzy mind sorted it out.  Rick
had used the knife to cut...  They thought...  Candace began to laugh.

   The medics exchanged worried glances, obviously thinking she had gone
hysterical.  That made her laugh even harder.  One of them quickly stabbed
a syringe into her arm.

   As the tranquilizer seeped through her body, Candace relished her
victory.  She certainly hadn't planned to come out of this alive.  She
hadn't even been thinking about anything beyond killing Rick and his
floozy.

   She'd have to think up a story about what she'd been doing in the
apartment, but that wouldn't be hard.

   She was still laughing when she fell unconscious again.

   Candace's Education ENDING THREE



   "Take off your clothes, bitch."

   Candace complied meekly, pulling the pink top off over her head and
dropping it to the floor before reaching down to open up the skirt and let
it drop to the floor.  She stepped out of the skirt and stood, looking at
Rick, an expression of longing on her face.

   Rick leered at her body, examining it appraisingly.  The realization of
just how much power he had struck him for the first time.  He owned this
sexy creature.  She wasn't a slave; she was a possession.

   He reached out a hand to stroke her left tit.  Her eyes closed as he
rubbed his thumb across the erect nipple.  He heard her breathe in and out
raggedly, clearly excited by his touch.  He found her tits dissatisfying.
They were firm, but not as large as he would've liked.

   Well, there'd be plenty of time to work on that.  And other things. 
Right now he had something to take care of.  Something final.

   Candace fought to keep her balance on the heels as Rick's fingers gently
caressed her breast.  Not breast, she scolded herself, tit!  She had to
think like a slut if she was ever going to get fucked.

   Rick's voice came through the haze of pleasure.  "You're mine, bitch,"
he growled.

   Yes, she thought, I'm yours.  Do what you want.  Just fuck me!

   "You belong to me.  I can use you however I want." "You...  can... 
use...  me..." she breathed, barely able to gasp out the words.

   "You're my whore."

   "Your...  whore..."

   "You're my slut."

   "Slut..."

   "You belong to me."

   "I...  belong...  to...  you..." she murmured as the caressing of her
nipple continued.  She wanted it...  wanted him to use her.

   "You will be used by anyone I choose in any way I choose."

   "Anyone...  you...  choose..."

   The hand on her tit withdrew, leaving an empty feeling behind.  Candace
opened her eyes.  Her master stood in front of her, a big grin on his face.
Maybe he was going to fuck her!

   She looked down at his cock.  It was fully erect, and larger than she
had ever seen it before.  Her gaze was transfixed by it.  The big, round
purple head, the fine network of red and blue veins latticed across its
surface.  She had never seen anything so beautiful.

   "Get on the bed, bitch.  Hands and knees."

   Candace squealed in pleasure as she rushed to comply.  He was going to
do it.  Really, this time!  She got down on all fours, making sure her legs
were spread well apart to display her cunt for him.  She could feel its
wetness.  She felt her master climb up onto the bed behind her.  His hands
wrapped themselves around the fronts of her thighs, and she felt something
come to rest against the outermost folds of her cunt.

   "Say it, bitch.  Repeat everything I just told you."

   Candace groaned.  "Fu...  fuck me...  please fuck me..."

   "Say it, bitch," her master growled menacingly.

   "I...  I'm your...  your whore.  Your slut.  I belong to you..." She
trailed off, unable to remember the rest.  Her pussy tingled with lust. 
She tried to push her hips backwards onto his cock, but to no avail.

   "You will be used," he prompted.

   "I will be used by anyone you choose in any way you choose," Candace
said hurriedly.  "Use me...  use me, master...  use my cunt..." she begged.


   "Here it comes, bitch!" he growled.  Candace felt herself pulled
backwards by his hands as he shoved forward.  The cock split her pussy wide
open, penetrating deep into her.  Candace shrieked in pleasure at the
sensation.  Her awareness of herself contracted and focused on the eight
inches of hard meat buried in her pussy.  Nothing else mattered but the
cock in her cunt.

   She felt it withdraw slowly, leaving a feeling of emptiness behind it.
"No...  noooooo..." she groaned.  "Put it innnnn...  Fuck meeeee...."

   "Time for a lesson, bitch.  A woman can use the word 'me'.  You're not a
woman.  You're a bitch.  You're my bitch.  You have to refer to yourself as
such.  Now beg me to fuck my bitch."

   Candace swallowed.  The last vestiges of her feminist pride screamed in
protest.  But his cock felt so good.  "Fu...  fuck your...  b-bitch."

   "Very good, bitch." The cock re-entered her forcefully, causing her
pussy to tingle with delight.  Candace groaned as she felt herself filled
up by his manhood.  She squeezed her pussy tightly around his shaft, hoping
to hold it inside her.  But once again, it withdrew slowly, taking with it
the pleasure it had brought.  "Noooo...  fuck..." She paused on the verge
of saying "me" before remembering the correct form.  "Fuck...  your bitch."


   "Good.  My bitch is learning.  But there are other names for a bitch. 
Let's see if she can find another one."

   Candace needed no time.  "Fuck your slut, master!" she cried.

   "What a good little slut," her master said in a soothing tone, much as
one would use when praising a pet.  His prick rammed into her snatch once
again, bringing the welcome wave of pleasure.  Candace moaned in delight.
Again, she tried to hold his cock inside her cunt, but it slipped out.

   "Let's see if the clever slut can come up with a new name for herself."

   "Fuck your whore, master!" Candace yelled.  She was rewarded immediately
by a sharp thrust of her master's cock.  But it was only seconds later that
it withdrew.  Candace searched her brain for another degrading name to use.


   "Fuck your tramp, master!" Another thrust and withdrawal.  "Fuck your
sex slave, master!" Again her master's cock parted her.  She thought
furiously, desperate to keep the pleasure-filled fucking continuing.  "Fuck
your sex doll!"

   She was dimly aware of a chuckle in the background, but it was lost
against her grunt of pleasure as she was impaled again on his shaft.  "Fuck
your...  your bitch!" she screamed as he withdrew again, realizing her
mistake too late.

   "I'm afraid you've already used that one, slut.  Why don't you try using
your name?"

   "Fuck Candace!" she screamed eagerly, craving another thrust.  But it
didn't come.

   "Ooooh, no, that won't do," he said in a regretful tone.  "Candace is
pretty name, but it's a woman's name.  If you go around calling yourself
Candace, people will think you're a woman, and expect you to do all sorts
of things, like thinking, and making your own decisions, and talking about
important things.  What you need is a name that lets everyone know that
you're just a slut and a whore, so that people will only expect you to get
fucked.  So you shouldn't be named Candace.  But maybe something like
Candace..."

   "Candi!" she squealed, "Candi!  Fuck Candi, master!"

   Her cleverness was rewarded by another thrust, penetrating her so deeply
that she felt the head of his cock touch her cervix.  Then, as before, her
master withdrew, but this time he re-entered her forcefully.  Stroke
followed stroke, each more powerful and more satisfying than the last. 
Candi grunted in time with her master's penetrations, thrusting her hips
back at him to draw him in as deeply as possible, trying to squeeze her
cunt tight around him.  She felt an orgasm building within her.

   Just then her master paused with the head of his cock just barely inside
her pussy lips.  "What is your name, bitch?"

   "C-Candi, master." "And what are you?"

   "I'm your bitch, I'm your whore, I'm your slut, master."

   Candi screamed in pleasure as he re-entered her, his cock rapidly
pistoning in and out of her juicy wet snatch.  Her master's hands roughly
grabbed her tits, pulling her even harder onto his prick.  The pain only
registered dimly; her consciousness was focused on the thick slab of meat
in her pussy.  "Fuck...  Fuck..." she murmured, "Fuck Candi..."

   She climaxed violently, her pussy spasming around her master's cock.  In
that moment, she wanted nothing in life but to be fucked over and over
again, by this cock or by any other.  Where before she would have recoiled
at the thought of being a slut, now she gloried in it.  A bitch.  She just
wanted to be a good, obedient little bitch.

   Rick felt his cum boiling within his cock as his newly rechristened
bitch thrashed through an orgasm.  His jism squirted into the slut's pussy
as he tightly gripped her tits.  Bigger tits, he reminded himself.  She
needed bigger tits.  Soon enough.

   His semen continued to squirt, and he was lost in the ecstasy of the
moment.  Candi belonged to him, body and soul.  The orgasm she was now
experiencing had sealed her fate.  She would do whatever she was told,
never voicing an independent thought, living only for the feeling of a cock
in her cunt.

   He knew he could never go back to Jennifer.  A woman could never satisfy
him.  In fact, he wouldn't even find a woman interesting anymore.  Not when
he could have a hot bitch like Candi for his very own.

   Rick's cock squirted a few final strands of come into Candi's snatch and
fell still.  Rick withdrew it with an audible pop, watching a few strands
of ropy cum stringing between it and Candi's cunt.  "Clean off my cock,
slave," he commanded.  Candi turned around and took Rick's cock into her
mouth, slurping hungrily at it.

   Rick smiled.  This bitch was going to be easy to train, if the lesson
he'd just given her was any indication.  He'd reinforce the training with
the hypnosis drug, just to be safe, but it seemed redundant.

   And Candi wouldn't be his only bitch.  That was for certain.  He'd need
to somehow maintain his supply of the drug, but aside from that there were
no limits to what he could do.  In short order, he could have a whole bevy
of foxy sluts doing whatever he wanted.  There were no women in the world,
only potential bitches.  Rick grinned at the thought.

   He was startled to discover that Candi wasn't just cleaning his cock
off.

   Her tongue was swirling back and forth around his cock, tickling his
glans.  She began to pump her head up and down on his cock.

   Rick groaned in pleasure as he felt his third orgasm of the night begin
to build.  "Does my bitch want to get fucked again?" he asked.

   She withdrew her head long enough to plead.  "Oh, please, master, fuck
Candi's cunt with your long, hard cock."

   Rick put his plans on hold for the rest of the night.  Right now there
was a bitch to be used.





   Five Years Later ----------------



   Rick leaned back in the plush chair, enjoying the sensation of his bitch
sucking at his cock.  In the five years he'd owned her, she'd developed
quite a proficiency for cocksucking.  He reached out and rested one hand
gently on the slut's head, feeling it slide up and down on his cock.  She
looked up at him, eyes peering out from under slutty arched black eyebrows.
Her lips shone with glossy lipstick, meticulously applied.  Rick made it
clear to his bitches that appearance was important.

   Rick looked up and gazed out of the window of his private enclosed box
onto the floor of the most exclusive gentleman's club in the world.  A
number of very rich men sat at tables chatting, drinking, and watching.

   All around them were some of the most beautiful, the sexiest, and the
best-trained women in the world.  The girls served drinks to the men.  The
girls were more than happy to sit and talk to the men, and were always very
attentive listeners.

   The girls sat on the men's laps and allowed their bodies to be fondled.
The girls squeezed the men's crotches playfully.

   And when the time was right, the girls followed the men into one of the
private rooms in the back of the club and kneeled to suck a cock or lay
down and spread their legs to get fucked.

   This, Rick thought to himself for the umpteenth time, was the way the
world should be.  Hot bitches waiting on the pleasure of men.

   Rick reached down and pushed the bitch off his cock.  "Sit on my lap,
slut," Rick commanded.

   "Yes, master," she responded in the sexy cooing voice she'd learned. 
She rose and lay her sleek, tanned legs across his, setting her pert ass
down on his crotch.  She reached down and began to play with his cock. 
Rick idly fondled her left tit with one hand while taking a sip from his
drink with the other.  The whore groaned in pleasure at his touch.  Her
sessions under the drug were responsible for that.  She had become
sensitized to any attention paid to her tits.

   The announcer on the club floor began to speak, his voice penetrating
Rick's private booth.  "And now, gentlemen, please give a warm welcome to
one of our veterans, the ever-popular Candi!" Applause rose from the
tables. The clientele just loved Candi.

   Candi strode proudly out onto the stage, a fur coat wrapped tightly
around her, concealing her entire body, save for the legs that occasionally
poked out as she walked, and her gorgeous face.  The applause crescendoed
as the music began, a heavy-metal tune with a strong beat, and she flung
open the coat to reveal a tight-fitting pink bikini.

   Rick continued to fondle the bitch on his lap while watching Candi begin
her dance routine.  He loved doing this, sometimes even more than the sex
itself.  The feeling of ownership drove him wild.  His gaze swept the floor
again, taking in the panorama of female flesh.  All of it belonged to him.

   Some of the bitches down below (to the customers, they were referred to
as "girls") were actively engaged with customers, chatting with them,
allowing their bodies to be groped, squeezing the customers' cocks through
their pants.  Some merely walked the floor, serving drinks.  All, however,
were fully made-up, hair immaculately styled, feet encased in spiked heels,
available to be fucked on a moment's notice.  A slut's first duty, he told
his bitches, is to look fuckable.  He watched as one of his girls, a small
Japanese bitch he'd named Mimi, wiggled her tits in the face of the
customers on whose lap she'd been sitting for the past half-hour. 
Apparently this was the breaking point for the customers, who rose
hurriedly from his chair, picking Mimi up and carrying her through the door
into the back of the club where the private rooms were located.

   On the other side, Ashley, a gorgeous blonde he'd recently acquired,
served martinis to a pair of silver-haired executives.  Ashley, he
recalled, had been a lawyer when he'd first noticed her.  Now, six months
later, she was just a bitch.  Rick hadn't quite finished her training yet;
she would be moving from the waitressing position into an "entertainer"
position in a few months.

   One of the executives reached out to caress Ashley's crotch through the
see-through panties she wore.  Ashley responded as she'd been trained; she
smiled, set her tray down, and began to rub his shoulders.  If he stopped,
she would pick up the tray and move on.  If he continued, she would move
her attention down to his crotch and unbutton her top to allow him access
to her tits.

   Even though she was technically a waitress, she was still available.  If
the executive wanted to fuck her, he'd take her into one of the private
rooms and another waitress would be right along to get the tray and finish
serving.

   That was the first rule of Rick's club - any customer could fuck any of
the girls - even a waitress.

   The executive's interest increased, and Ashley was soon sitting on his
lap, allowing him to play with her, smiling and laughing.

   Rick could tell he was going to take her into a private room and fuck
her.  That would be her second today.  Maybe Rick would have to accelerate
her training; she was quite a popular bitch.

   A customer came out of the back area.  The middle-aged executive
returned to a table with his buddies, where he entered an animated
discussion filled with much pantomiming of sexual activity.  A few minutes
later, a sexy brunette, Ginger, emerged from the back.  Rick had been
watching closely; each of the men sitting at that table had fucked Ginger
that evening.  No doubt they were all comparing notes on her performance.

   Ginger, for her part, must have been exhausted, but she certainly didn't
show it.  Her hair and makeup were immaculate, and she walked energetically
across the floor on her red heels, her silicone tits thrust proudly in
front of her, waiting for another customer to express interest in her.  As
a slut, her first duty was too look fuckable, and that didn't change just
because she had been fucked by six men in a row.

   She hadn't orgasmed, of course; Rick's bitches never orgasmed with
customers.  After all, they couldn't be expected to keep their minds on
their jobs if they orgasmed right in the middle of getting fucked.  Their
job was to make sure that the customer got the best fuck possible.

   They faked orgasms, of course - that was an important part of satisfying
the customer.  And satisfy they did.  And they certainly enjoyed their work
- Rick made sure they liked nothing better than a hard cock.  But they
never really orgasmed.  That they did only with Rick.

   Rick only had a certain amount of time, and could only bring three or
four bitches to orgasm a day.  Since he owned about fifty, each of them
only got to come once every two weeks or so.

   Most of them had to be satisfied by being fingered, since Rick obviously
couldn't fuck four women in one day on a continuous basis.

   Getting fucked to orgasm by her owner was a special distinction for a
slut; only those that performed exceptionally well were allowed to
experience it.  Rick made a mental note to fuck Ginger soon.  She had
pulled a train of six horny businessmen, and kept her appearance flawless
afterward.  A slut like that deserved a reward.

   The executive who'd been groping Ashley carried her into the back.  She
grinned happily; for a waitress to get fucked as much as she did was quite
a privilege.  Rick made a note to review the tape of the session she had
with this guy; if she was performing up to snuff, maybe he could promote
her immediately.

   The guys who had just finished chain-fucking Ginger were watching raptly
as Candi danced.  She was out of her top now, but still wearing the fur. 
By now, most of those men would have their cocks up again, and Rick knew
what they were going to do.  This crew had a habit of getting drunk and
accosting one of the girls all together.

   Sure enough, Lisa walked by, her blond hair flowing behind her as her
unencumbered tits bounced on her chest.  She smiled at the group and began
talking to them.  Less than a minute later, the six guys escorted Lisa into
the back, excited about the upcoming gang-bang.  Lisa probably wasn't so
excited, but she knew that she had to do her job if she wanted to orgasm
this week.

   Lisa had been Rick's third acquisition.  It had been Candi's suggestion,
oddly enough.  Although he'd made Candi into a brainless bimbo, she had
still been able to remember an annoying student intern at the magazine. 
She'd told Rick that Lisa would make an excellent bitch.  And damn if she
hadn't been right about that.  Rick watched as Lisa went with the men into
the back.

   Rick always worried a little about gangbangs.  They tended to be a
little dangerous, and bitches were hard to replace.  It was easy to locate
a suitable bitch, and easy to train her, but hard to take possession. 
Still, he knew he could extract financial compensation from the men if Lisa
was permanently hurt.

   All of Rick's clients were carefully screened in a personal interview.
Drinks were served, and if a potential customer refused the drink, Rick
faked an interview and then rejected his application.  Those that did drink
were grilled under hypnosis about their financial situation, sexual tastes,
and any friends or relatives they had in law enforcement.  Once Rick was
satisfied on all counts, the customer had merely to pay the $100,000 in
annual dues, and he was entitled to come whenever he wanted and fuck any of
the available girls.  Rick had personal chats periodically with all his
customer, where he made sure they only spoke of the club to potential new
customer.

   From time to time, a customer took a particular liking to one of the
girls.  The girls were allowed to date customers; the gentleman merely had
to pay the club a $5,000 fee per date.  The girls always said yes.

   Quite often, a customer wanted to marry a girl.  This was also allowed;
after Rick suitably reprogrammed the bitch, the husband paid a half-million
dollar finder's fee, and she left her job for a life of married bliss, now
able to orgasm on her husband's cock.

   A girl from Rick's club made an excellent wife; she was always obedient
and accommodating toward her husband, wishing only to satisfy him sexually.
She always did her best to look sexy and fuckable, bolstering her husband's
reputation for sexual prowess.

   Her programming left her unable to orgasm without her husband's
permission, so her faithfulness was assured.

   She knew that, aside from her role as a trophy, she was merely a sexual
plaything for her husband, no more than a living fuck-doll, and as such she
never objected to her husband fucking other women or sluts.

   Most importantly, she had no objections whatsoever to her husband's
continued membership in the club, or to her husband fucking other club
girls, even on dates outside the club.  Many of the nation's wealthiest men
now had trophy wives trained by Rick.  His best customer had been through
no less than three wives from his club.

   Not only did marriage provide Rick with extra income, it resulted in
employee turnover, giving him space to recruit new bitches.  Rick's annual
income was well into eight figures.  But it wasn't the money he loved; it
was the ownership, the possession of property.

   He watched Candi dancing on the stage below, wrapping her oiled tits
around the pole, sliding up and down on it like it was a big cock she was
fucking.  Candi's tits were large and round, like a pair of melons,
designed to feel heavenly when wrapped around a cock.

   Rick liked to keep a wide variety of bitches in his stable.  Some he
gave a "natural" look, to appeal to those customer who liked a high- class
fuck.

   This didn't mean that these girls didn't get any modification; all of
Rick's bitches were artificial to some degree, it was just that the
"natural" girls had plastic surgery done on them in less obvious ways.

   Alterations of minor imperfections, such as reducing a large nose, often
cost more than a simple pair of large fake tits.

   The classy girls were modified to meet an exacting standard of feminine
beauty; any of them could easily have graced the pages of Playboy.  Rick
received plastic surgery services at a discount; several highly skilled
surgeons were members of the club.  Nonetheless, it often cost tens of
thousands of dollars to prepare a single bitch for work.

   Candi was not one of the classy girls; she was at the extreme opposite
end of the spectrum.  Her collagen-injected pouting lips and massive
surgical tits appealed to those who wanted to fuck an obvious whore.  Rick
had taken quite a delight in turning the once-militant feminist into an
extreme slut.

   When Candi walked the floor, she didn't wear the high-heeled pumps of a
classy slut, she wore a pair of leather knee-high "fuck-me" boots, or a
pair of six-inch spiked heels.  And when customers started talking to
Candi, they quickly discovered that she didn't just look like a brainless
bimbo.

   Rick had hypnotically rendered her incapable of using words of more than
two syllables, and made it impossible for her to speak more than three
sentences without referring to sex.

   The look and personality had proved popular with the customer; Already
several had moved over to sit next to the stage, waiting for her to finish
so they could have a chance to stuff their stiff cocks up her snatch.  Rick
had taken several other girls to the extreme like this - he looked across
the club to where Crystal sat straddling a customer's lap, arching her back
while he lapped eagerly at her wrecking-ball sized tits.  The others had
proven popular, but Candi's fan base remained undiminished.

   He'd already turned down several requests from customers wanting to see
her outside of the club.  He knew he could charge whatever he wanted for
Candi, but...  she had a certain sentimental value.  She'd been his first
bitch, after all.  While he'd been observing and reminiscing, his second
bitch had succeeded in bringing his cock to a full erection.  Rick looked
at her face.  "Does my bitch want to get fucked?"

   Her face lit up with simple joy.  "Oh, yes, master, your slut wants you
to fuck her creamy cunt with your hard cock.  Please, master, fuck Jenny!"

   Rick looked into the eyes that pleaded eagerly with him.  Those eyes had
once shone with pure love, but now all that could be seen in them was
cocklust.  "Sit on my cock, whore," Rick commanded.  Jenny obliged eagerly,
lifting herself up, straddling Rick, and impaling her snatch on his shaft.
Rick groaned.

   Jennifer had been surprisingly easy to train.  She had been madly in
love with him, and it had been almost too easy to bend that love to his own
ends.  In a mere week, she had been eagerly taking his orders, completely
submissive.  Then he'd brought Jenny and Candy together, using them
together.  He remembered his first time fucking the two of them at once. 
What a night that had been!

   Now, after some surgery, Jenny was just like any other slut -built to be
fucked.  Big, round tits thrust forth proudly, perfectly filling Rick's
hands.  Rick squeezed them, enjoying their firmness.  He'd come to love
fake tits.  He'd gotten her the fake ones four years ago, after getting fed
up with her natural boobs.  Only afterwards had he realized how much he
loved fake tits.  So artificial.  So much the sign of a slut.

   Rick breathed in the smell of her hair as Jenny humped up and down on
his cock.  Her hair was thick and lustrous, falling in small curls across
her shoulder and down her back.  It had been dyed from its natural deep
brown to a jet black.  Rick liked the addition that made to the sluttiness
of her appearance.

   He groaned again as she flexed the muscles of her cunt around his cock.
Rick moved his lips onto hers and began to suck.  She kissed back eagerly.
Five years ago, Jennifer Cipriani had kissed with a tender warmth that had
set Rick's heart on fire.  Now Jenny Fucktoy kissed with a lustful craving
designed to set a man's cock on fire.  (Rick had taken the last name from a
dirty story he'd read on the Internet.)

   The lips that had once been soft and tender were now larger, collagen
injections having given them a permanent pout.  Even when they weren't
wrapped around a cock they looked like they wanted to be.  Rick doubted
that Jennifer's own mother would recognize the cock- craving hussy that now
sat on his shaft.

   "Oh, master, fuck Jenny hard.  Shove your hard cock up your bitch's
soft, wet cunt!  Jenny wants to be fucked!"

   Rick's cock felt wonderful as always.  He closed his eyes.  Jenny wasn't
a club employee.  She was Rick's personal, private bitch.  The one he
fucked every single day.  "Tell me what you are, bitch," he growled.  He
enjoyed this little game.

   Jenny groaned again.  "Oh, master, Jenny is a dirty little slut.  All
Jenny wants to do is get used by her master.  Jenny remembers how she used
to be a woman, how she used to be her master's girlfriend." Rick stopped,
his eyes snapping open.  This had never happened before.

   Jenny took no notice, but continued humping up and down on his cock. 
"Except he wasn't her master then.  He was Rick." Rick's bitches were
trained never to use his name.  What the hell was going on?

   "And...  and Rick used to treat Jenny...  treat Jennifer like a woman."
The pace of her humping slowed, and her smile began to fade.  "Rick... 
Rick loved Jennifer.  And Jennifer...  loved Rick." She stopped, her eyes
still closed, but her body motionless, sitting still on Rick's cock.

   They sat still, scarcely breathing.  Rick's mind raced with things he
hadn't thought of in years.  Jennifer's sweet face - not the made-up,
collagen-enhanced face of the whore on his lap right now, but the sweet,
innocent face of the only woman he had ever truly loved.  Why?

   Why had he turned her into...  this?

   They sat still for several long moments.  Rick realized how much he
missed Jennifer.  How much he wanted to see her again, hold her, talk to
her, kiss her.

   Make love to her.  Rick cleared his throat, preparing to speak.

   "But Jenny doesn't understand," she squealed just as Rick opened his
mouth.  "Why did Jennifer love Rick?  Jenny doesn't want to be loved! 
Jenny just wants a hard cock in her cunt!" With that, she began to slide up
and down on his cock again with furious speed.

   "No, no..." she moaned.  "Jenny doesn't want to be loved; Jenny just
wants to be used!  Please, master, use Jenny like the slut she is.  Fuck
Jenny hard, master.  Jenny is a hot, slutty bitch!" FUCK JENNY!"

   Rick's thoughts of a moment before were lost as the bitch slid up and
down on his cock at breakneck speed, faster than she'd ever done before. 
Rick grunted and stood, cradling her in his arms, and laid her on the table
in front of him.  Jenny squealed in delight as Rick lifted one sleek, tan
leg onto each of his shoulders and began to furiously piston his cock in
and out of the sopping wet cunt before him.  Rick remembered now.  He
remembered why he had done it.  Why he'd turned Jennifer into a slut.  "You
cheap slut," he grunted as he shoved his cock deep inside her cunt.  He'd
done it because nothing could compare to this moment.

   The feeling he got from fucking a bitch was better than anything else in
the world.  The feeling of total control.  The rush of power that came from
knowing that he had taken a woman, a creature with hopes, dreams, thoughts,
and feelings.

   And then methodically turned her into a living, breathing sex doll whose
only interest in life was pleasing men, to whom the only thing of
consequence in the whole world was a cock.

   Once he'd done it to Candace, it had been inevitable that he'd do it to
Jennifer.

   Jenny writhed in ecstasy as his cock exploded, shooting jism deep into
her hot cunt.  Her own orgasm crested at the sensation, as it always did,
and her back arched as she screamed in pleasure.

   Rick watched as his come began to drip out of her cunt.  Even after four
years of fucking dozens of well-trained sluts, Rick still thought Jenny was
the best fuck he'd ever had.

   For the first time, though, it occurred to him that it was a shame to
keep such a hot bitch to himself.

   It was time Jenny experienced another man's cock.  Not in the club, of
course.

   Something a little more interesting.





   Candace's Education ENDING FOUR (Part One)



   "Go out into the living room and lie down on the couch.  Stay there
until I come out for you." He saw the disappointment on her face as she
turned to obey.  Her leather-covered ass swayed enticingly as she walked
out of the room on the spiked heels.  Rick knew she wanted to be fucked. 
And he wanted to fuck her.  But it would be wrong.  It wouldn't be fair to
Jennifer.

   But if he didn't fuck her, and soon, he'd go crazy.  He had to do
something.  He needed to think.  And he needed to have Candace out of the
room while he did it.

   Rick paced around for several minutes.  What the hell was he going to
do? He had no choice, really.

   He had to give Candace up.  His love for Jennifer was far too strong to
permit anything else.  But if he gave up Candace, would he be able to
restrain his urges?  Or would he just use the drug on some other woman?

   Rick sat down and was surprised to find himself on the verge of tears.
He'd never been a man to be carried away by his emotions before, but
suddenly it all overwhelmed him.  He'd come so close to turning into some
sort of manipulator.  He shuddered as he realized how close he'd come to
abandoning Jennifer.  To forgetting what it meant to love.

   He'd have to confide in Jennifer.  He'd tell her everything that
happened.  She'd be shocked at first, he knew.  But she loved him, and
ultimately, she would help him survive and cope with the knowledge of what
he'd almost done.  Together they'd make it.  It would be all right.  Rick
looked up to see Jennifer smiling at him.

   He jumped nearly a foot off the bed, scared shitless, before he realized
it was only a photograph sitting on Candace's desk.  But what the hell was
a picture of Jennifer doing here?

   Rick walked over to the desk and picked it up.  It was a framed magazine
cover, from Woman's Work, the magazine Candace worked for.  The cover text
read "Female Dominatrixes - The Benedict Arnolds of the Feminist
Revolution" And the woman on the cover was, sure enough, Jennifer Cipriani.
The date on the cover was five years ago.

   Curiously, the Jennifer on the cover wasn't the overweight, out-of-shape
Jennifer that Rick had first known, but a shapely, fit woman that looked
remarkably like her current self.

   She was clad in an outfit of black leather, holding a leather riding
crop in one hand.  Stranger and stranger, Rick thought.  Had Jennifer
really been into this sort of stuff?

   She wasn't facing the camera, and the shot looked unposed - like it was
taken from ambush, or from a hidden camera.  But there was no doubt in
Rick's mind that it was Jennifer.

   Rick sat down, holding the picture.  What the hell did it mean?  Had
Jennifer once dressed like...  like that?  And...  what had she done when
she was dressed in leather?

   Rick stood up again, searching the desk frantically.

   Tucked away in the file drawer, he found a clipping from the magazine -
a feature article.

   It featured another picture of Jennifer.





   BETRAYERS OF THE FEMINIST REVOLUTION WOMEN WHO DOMINATE WOMEN by Candace
Cunningham

   When most free-minded women think of the enemies of their gender, they
think of men.  And why not?  Even in the "modern" world, men attempt to
confine women to domestic service and deny them equal pay when they do make
it into the working world.

   Surprisingly, though, many women are being degraded in much more
thorough ways by other women.

   These women are known by many names - mistresses, dominatrixes,
disciplinarians.  But they all share a common thread -they get their kicks
from dominating other women.

   By day, Jennifer Cipriani is a sales manger at a large electronics firm
in Los Angeles.  She spends her work day fetching coffee, answering phones,
and typing reports for her boss.

   When Jennifer is done serving as an ornament of power for her boss,
however, she doesn't always head straight home.  Instead, she often stops
off at an exclusive club where members engage in dominance and submission
"fantasies."

   Such episodes provide Jennifer with a wealth of women to order around,
and she uses them to satisfy her every sexual craving.  A confirmed
lesbian, Jennifer experiences several orgasms a day in the course of
humiliating her subjects.

   These women are lured into the club by the dubious promise that they
will receive some sort of emotional catharsis from the domination. 
Although they all claim to enjoy participating in these episodes with
Jennifer and the other "mistresses", it must be wondered whether...

   Rick skimmed the rest of the article.  It was page after page of drivel,
making Jennifer out to be some sort of psychopath.  Rick had heard of these
sorts of clubs; from what he'd read in the mainstream press, though, all
those who participated did so of their own free will. The dominance was
nothing more than an elaborately-staged game designed for the enjoyment of
all.  Candace seemed to have worked herself into a fit over it, since it
apparently offended her prudish sensibilities.  Odd, for an ardent
feminist.

   Attached to the back was another clipping, from an issue several months
later.  It was a short piece describing how the "psychopathic harlot"
Jennifer Cipriani had been forced to quit her job after Candace's expose
had found its way into the hands of her boss, who said she had "disgraced
the company." This piece had clearly also been written by Candace, and it
had a sort of gloating air about it.

   Rick sat down in shock.  Jennifer had never told him about any of this.
She had seemed like such a sweet, innocent young woman.  Who could have
known she was into dominance games?  This was weird.  Too weird.  He
thought he loved her, but he hadn't known about this...

   ...  and she didn't know that he had been training a woman to be his sex
slave.  Guilt washed over him.  What sort of hypocrite would he have been
to reject her?  She was still a sweet, caring, beautiful woman, even if she
occasionally dressed up in leather and played out fantasies with other
women.  Even if she was...  Well, she couldn't be a lesbian.

   Rick knew women could fake orgasms, but not as many as Jennifer had had
with him.  She could be bisexual.  Fine, fine, he thought.  He still loved
her, even if she did enjoy sexual domination of other women.

   Other women.

   It couldn't work.

   Could it?  He had to try.  He couldn't give up Candace, could he?  This
was the only way.

   Rick carried the framed cover out into the living room, where Candace
was lying on the bed.  He sat next to her.  "Candace?"

   She looked up at him.  "Yes, master?" The dilation of her pupils let him
know she was under the full influence of the drug.

   He showed her the picture.  "Do you recognize this woman?"

   "Yes, master."

   "Who is she?"

   "Some dominatrix bitch I exposed a few years ago."

   "I see.  Why did you do that?"

   "She was using other women for her own pleasure."

   "Were those other women enjoying it?"

   "No."

   "How do you know?"

   A pause.  "Well, they couldn't have been.  Just being used."

   "Do you want to be used?"

   A longer pause.  "Yes."

   "By who?"

   "You, master.  I want you to use me." "Well, maybe those women wanted to
be used.  Isn't that possible?"

   She paused, thinking.  "Yes, it's...  it's possible."

   "So maybe you ruined her life for no good reason at all."

   "Ye...  yes, I sup...  suppose that's possible."

   "You really want to be used, don't you?"

   "Yes, master."

   "What if she used you?  Wouldn't you enjoy that.  Maybe just as much as
you would enjoy being used by me?"

   "May...  maybe."

   "What if she were your mistress?"

   Rick watched Jennifer from across the table as she wolfed down her meal.
He'd taken her out to the most elegant restuarant in town, and the meal was
costing him several hundred dollars.

   She was loving it.  She was devastatingly beautiful in a black satin
dress, and her eyes danced with mischievous fire.  Rick couldn't believe
how lucky he was to have found such a wonderful creature.

   They finished the meal and began dessert, gazing deeply into each
other's eyes.  Rick knew that Jennifer was expecting him to propose
tonight. He wasn't going to.

   He had gone shopping and bought the ring, but he couldn't give it to her
yet.  He had to give her something else first.  He hoped she would accept
it.  They finished dessert.  Rick reached across the table to grasp
Jennifer's hand.  "Honey, I have something very special I'd like to give
you tonight.  A gift.  It's back at my place."

   Jennifer smiled.  "Well, let's go, Romeo," she whispered.

   Candace's hair, bleached to a yellowy blonde color, was done up loosely
behind her head, a few curly locks falling lightly to her shoulders.  Her
eyebrows, highlighted with a dark pencil and plucked into thin lines,
arched invitingly above her glistening eyes.  Her lips shone with a glossy
pink lipstick.  Her breasts strained against a white mesh halter-top, while
her long, smoothly-tanned legs were enveloped by a black patent- leather
miniskirt and knee-high red leather "fuck-me" boots.  A white faux-pearl
necklace and a pair of glittering, dangling earrings completed the sex-toy
look.

   Candace looked at Jennifer for a second before her shining lips slowly
parted.  "Mistress..."

   Jennifer's face lit up with delight.  An almost girlish grin of glee
spread across her face as she took in the sight before her.  Half a second
later, though, she turned to Rick in surprise, a worried look on her pretty
face.  "But...  Rick...  what...  what is she..." she sputtered in protest.


   Rick silenced her with a finger on her lips.  "Shhh, honey, it's all
right.  She's for you.  A gift.  She'll acknowledge you as her mistress."

   Jennifer was silent for several seconds, staring at Rick, flustered. 
"But...  but...  How did you kn-know?"

   "I saw the article.  I know you were embarrassed about it, but...  I
thought you'd like this.  If you don't, I can..."

   "No, Rick.  I do like it." She turned to look briefly at Candace, then
turned back.  "She's beautiful.  I love you, Rick." She smiled, then walked
toward Candace.  "What is your name, slave?"

   "Candace, mistress," came the somewhat stiff response.

   "I see, slave." Jennifer reached out to gently rub Candace's right
nipple through the halter top.  Candace's eyes closed and her breathing
became a bit more rapid.  "Does it excite you when I do this, slave?"
Jennifer inquired coyly.

   "Y-yes, mistress," Candace responded, her chest heaving.

   "How many mistresses have you had before me?" Jennifer asked.

   "N-none, mistress."

   Jennifer's eyebrows arched in an expression of interest.  "So...  a
first-time slave.  Well, well." Her fingers continued to fondle Candace's
nipple, gently kneading the flesh through the tight, thin fabric.

   Rick found it a little awkward to watch Jennifer toying with Candace so
easily.  What was disturbing him was how easily the sweet, demure Jennifer
he knew had slipped so easily into the dominating role.

   Of course, to Jennifer this was really only play-acting.  The "slaves"
she dealt with were, in reality, freely-consenting women fulfilling their
own needs and desires.  It was only a matter of time until Jennifer
realized just how different Candace was from the usual slave.  Rick was
worried about how she might react when she discovered the truth.

   Rick watched as Jennifer leaned forward and planted a kiss on Candace's
lips.  Candace hesitated for a second before responding, but jumped in with
eagerness.  The kiss lasted half a minute, with Candace awkwardly resting
her hands on Jennifer's shoulders while Jennifer cupped her slave's breasts
and fondled her nipples.

   Rick caught a glimpse of their tongues darting around each other as
Jennifer reached downward to slip a hand under the waist of Candace's
skirt. Candace moaned at the contact, grinding her crotch against
Jennifer's hand.

   Rick felt his cock straining against his jeans as he watched the two
sexy women grinding their bodies against each other.  Awkward or not, this
was hot!

   Jennifer backed up to the bed and leaned her ass against the footrest.
"Come here, slave," she commanded, gesturing at a spot on the floor in
front of her.

   "Yes, mistress," Candace responded, obediently shuffling over and
kneeling in front of Jennifer.

   Jennifer lifted her dress, revealing the moist wet cotton of her
panties. "Pull down my panties, slave."

   Candace slowly lifted her right arm, causing the three plastic bracelets
encircling it to jangle noisily.  Hesitantly, her long red fingernails slid
over the top of Jennifer's panties.  The nails were press-ons; Candace
hadn't yet had time to grow the inch-long talons of a true slut.  Candace
drew in a breath as she pulled the panties down, revealing Jennifer's soft
mound.

   "Have you ever licked another woman's pussy, before, slave?" Jennifer
asked.

   "N-no, mistress." Candace's eyes were locked in wonder on the soft pink
lips of Jennifer's vulva.

   "Well, now's the time to learn, isn't it, bitch?"

   Candace looked up at Jennifer, trembling with either fear or lust.  Rick
couldn't be sure which.  "Y-yes, mistress."

   "Lick my pussy, slut," Jennifer commanded her new slave.

   Rick watched in fascination as Candace's tongue slowly snaked out to
make contact with Jennifer's labia.  Jennifer moaned in pleasure as Candace
tickled her pussy lips, gently stroking up and down as I'd instructed her.
Jennifer inched her hips forward to meet Candace's probing tongue.  Her
eyes closed and her hands came to rest in Candace's blonde hair. 
Jennifer's hips began to thrust gently into Candace's face as she grunted
in pleasure.

   Jennifer's eyes opened and she turned her head to face Rick, a giddy
smile on her lips.  "She's wonderful, Rick.  Inexperienced, but she's
really into it.  Where the hell did you find her?  How much are you paying
her for this?"

   Rick decided to be selective about which questions he answered.  "Honey,
you know it's rude to ask the price of a gift." He feigned an air of
amusement, but he was trembling.  He couldn't stall much longer.  She was
going to figure it out soon.

   "I'm sorry, honey, I was just wondering how you got a novice submissive
to agree to do this for me.  I mean, she clearly hasn't given cunnilingus
before.  Oh, God...  but she sure is learning fast!" Jennifer closed her
eyes again and squeezed Candace's head into her crotch.  Her moans grew
louder and became words.  "Oh, yeah...  that's it, bitch, lick your
mistress's sweet pussy...  oh, yes...  yessss...  oh, God!" Jennifer's back
arched as she orgasmed, her hips thrusting furiously into Candace's face.
She screamed through the orgasm as Candace continued to lick at her pussy
and clitoris.  After a minute, her breathing subsided and she relaxed her
grip on Candace's head.  Candace looked up at her.

   "Very good, slave," Jennifer said in between pants.  "So tell me, how
long will you be my slave?"

   Candace looked up at her uncomprehendingly.  "Mistress?"

   Jennifer looked at Rick.  "How long, honey?"

   Rick gulped.  "As long as you want."

   "That's sweet of you to say, honey, but sooner or later she's going to
want to try someone else.  How long has she agreed to for now?"

   "She...  she hasn't agreed to anything."

   "What?  What the hell are you talking about?"

   "Look at her." Jennifer looked down at Candace, who looked up from
between her legs like a puppy.  "Don't you recognize her?"

   Suddenly comprehension dawned on Jennifer's face, followed quickly by
anger.

   "You bitch!" she screamed, slapping Candace forcefully.  Candace fell
onto her back, reeling from the force of the blow.

   Jennifer walked toward her, hands balled into fists.  Rick rushed
forward to restrain her.  "You filthy bitch!" she screamed, straining
against Rick's arms.  "You ruined my career, you slut!"

   "Shh...  Honey, she's not like that anymore.  She's changed." Jennifer
slowly relaxed and looked at him, still puzzled.  "Don't hurt her.  She
can't fight back.  She just wants to please you."

   Candace looked up from the floor, frightened.  "M-mistress?"

   Jennifer glared at her for a long moment, then glanced at Rick, and then
turned back at Candace.  "All right, come over here and stand up.  I won't
hurt you." Candace complied meekly.  Jennifer contemplated her silently.c
Rick's stomach did somersaults as he waited for Jennifer to speak.

   "How did she get...  changed?  Get to be like this?"

   Rick spoke carefully.  "She was trained."

   "And who trained her?"

   "I did."

   "For me?"

   "For you."

   Jennifer remained silent, her mouth a hard line, looking up and down
Candace's body.

   "Do you know how to suck cock, slave?" she asked, voice flat.

   "Yes, mistress."

   "Did your master teach you to suck cock?" Rick's nerves went on edge at
the question.  Did she like it or not?

   "Yes, mistress."

   Jennifer was silent again for a moment.  "Suck your master's cock,
bitch," she commanded.

   "Yes, mistress," Candace responded meekly.  She moved in front of Rick,
falling to her knees.  Her hands went swiftly to Rick's fly, releasing his
rock-hard cock.  Rick was still nervous about Jennifer, but the thrilling
sensation of Candace's well- practiced lips on his cockhead was
overwhelming.  He closed his eyes, groaning in pleasure.

   Suddenly, he felt a soft pair of lips on his.  Jennifer's lips.  They
kissed passionately, with a heat Rick had never felt before.  They parted.
"I love her, Rick.  She's wonderful.  And I love you."

   Rick looked down to see Jennifer's crotch mashed against the back of
Candace's head, her thighs gripping the sides of the whore's neck and
pushing her head up and down on Rick's cock.  Jennifer kissed him again. 
Rick's hands went to Jennifer's soft breasts, and she let out a sensuous
groan.  "Oh, honey..." she moaned.  Rick felt the slut's mouth sliding
faster up and down on his shaft.  "Come on, bitch," Jennifer said, looking
down at the mass of blond hair in front of her.  "Suck your master's cock."


   Candace didn't resist, allowing her mistress to use her as a tool to
satisfy her master.  She found it unpleasant to be used this way, but it
was her duty.  She didn't want to displease her new mistress.

   She felt her master's cock begin to throb as he built toward orgasm. 
"I'm coming, honey," she heard him groan.  She tried to pull her head back
so that she could take her master's come on her face, but found that she
couldn't.  Her mistress's legs held her head firm, her mouth impaled on the
long, hard, pulsing cock.  She tried harder to move, but it was impossible.
She panicked as she realized what was going to happen.  When her master
came...  A spurt of warm fluid gushed into Candace's mouth.  She choked on
it, coughing, struggling to break free.  Another followed it quickly. 
"Swallow it, bitch!" her mistress yelled.  She tried to suppress her
reflexes and swallow, but it was so hard.  Spurt after spurt of hot, salty
come flowed into her mouth.  Some went down her throat, but some wouldn't
go.  Sperm escaped from the corners of her mouth and dribbled onto her
chin. All the while, her mistress kept her head firmly in place.

   At last, her master's orgasm ebbed, and her body relaxed.  The pressure
on her neck was removed as she was released from the viselike grip of her
mistress's thighs.  Candace slumped to the floor, exhausted.

   This was greeted with a forceful kick from her mistress, not hard enough
to hurt, but hard enough to let her know she'd done something wrong. 
"Clean off your master's cock, bitch!" Candace quickly rose to a kneeling
position and hurriedly began licking her master's cock.  Mustn't disappoint
the mistress...

   "Was it good, honey?" Jennifer asked demurely.  "Did you like it that I
used her to fuck you?"

   "Well, it wasn't as good as what you use to fuck me, but it was good..."


   "Liar," Jennifer said, smiling.  "I think our little Candace here has
never taken it down her throat before.  Did you ever teach her that?"

   "No.  Must've slipped my mind."

   "Well, that's something to work on.  She seems to be doing a decent job
cleaning you off." Indeed, Rick's cock shone with Candace's saliva.  The
come had been removed.

   "That's good enough, slut.  Come here." Candace stood up and turned to
face Jennifer, her eyes staring meekly at the floor.  "Candace?" Jennifer
asked.

   "Yes, mistress?"

   "Do you know who I am?"

   "Y-yes.  You're my m-mistress." Rick knew that Candace did recognize
Jennifer, but she was trying to avoid the subject.

   "But you and I met before I became your mistress, didn't we, bitch?"

   "Y-yes, mistress.  I wr-wrote a story about you..."

   "Yes, you did.  It was a bad story, Candace," Jennifer said scoldingly.

   "Yes, mistress."

   "A lot of bad things happened to me after you wrote that story."

   "Yes, mistress."

   "It ruined my life, bitch.  I lost my job, and I became very unhappy. 
Very unhappy.  If I hadn't met your master I'd still be very unhappy."
Jennifer paused to look at Rick.  He could see tears brimming in the
corners of her eyes.  She fought to control them.  Rick knew she didn't
want Candace to see her cry.

   "Yes, mistress."

   "You did a very bad thing."

   "Yes, mistress." "And you're going to have to pay for it."

   "Yes, mistress."

   "You're going to live with your master and me and do whatever we say
until we decide you've paid off your debt."

   "Yes, mistress."

   "And that's going to be a long time."

   "Yes, mistress."

   Jennifer's hand snaked in between Candace's legs and began to stroke her
pussy.  "It won't be without pleasure, slave.  Does this feel good?"

   "Yes, mistress," Candace breathed.  Rick smiled.  Jennifer seemed to be
taking to Candace quite well.  Rick watched as the first joint of
Jennifer's index finger slid into the bitch's cunt.

   Candace sighed in pleasure at the entry.  Rick was surprised to find
Jennifer giving him a passionate kiss seconds later.  Her hand still
squirmed about between Candace's legs.

   Jennifer broke the kiss.  "So I take it this means we're moving in
together," Rick said with an obviously fake air of nonchalance.

   "Huh?  I...  I never said that, honey."

   "Yes, you did.  You said she was going to live with us."

   Jennifer was taken aback.  "Oh...  well, I guess I did." Her hand
stopped moving, and Candace whined plaintively.  Jennifer took no notice.
"Um...  Well, do you want to...  move in...  together?"

   Rick put on a serious expression.  "Well, I don't know if a gentleman
like me could ever survive in polite company if it was known he was living
in sin with a harlot like yourself."

   Jennifer burst into laughter.  "Oh, a gentleman, huh?  No man who asks a
woman to do all the things I've done to you could ever be called a
gentleman." She nearly doubled over in mirth, leaning against Rick to keep
from falling over as laughter shook her body.

   "Marry me."

   Suddenly the laughter stopped.  Jennifer looked up at him.  "What?"

   "Marry me."

   Jennifer's mouth opened and closed a few times.  "I...  Rick...  This
is...  Are you serious?  This is kind of sudden."

   "Yes, I'm serious.  Marry me."

   "Rick Logan, if this is some kind of sick joke, I'll..."

   Rick silenced her with a finger on her lips, the way he'd done just
before the first time they'd made love.  "You think I saved you from... 
from your unhappiness.  You're probably right.  But you saved me, too.  I
mean..."

   He took a breath.  "Look at what I was doing.  I was training her to be
a slave.  If I hadn't met you - I mean really gotten to know you - I
probably would've..." He trailed off.  "I don't like to think about it.  I
know I would've forgotten what it meant to love someone.  You saved me from
that.  I love you, Jennifer.  Marry me."

   Jennifer was on the verge of tears.  "I love you, too.  Of course I'll
marry you." She kissed him again, insistently, her hand gripping his
shoulder.  Rick moved his hands to her flanks and they stood for a long
time, drinking each other in.  Rick was dimly aware of Candace moaning.

   Suddenly Jennifer let out a squeal of pleasure and broke the kiss.  "Oh
my God!" she exclaimed.

   "What is it?"

   A look of wonder spread across Jennifer's face.  Rick noticed that her
hand was still on Candace's pussy, her index finger inserted some distance
up Candace's cunt.  "You never fucked her?" Jennifer asked in amazement.

   "Um...  no.  Why?"

   "You never fucked her?  Not even once?  Why not?"

   "Because of you.  Why is that important now?"

   "Oh, Rick, that's so sweet..."

   "Fine, but what's your point?"

   "Honey, it seems our little slut is a virgin."

   "What?"

   "I can feel it.  A nice unbroken cherry."

   "Oh..." Rick thought about it.  It made sense.  Candace hadn't had sex
with anyone before she met Rick, and Rick had never fucked her.  Somehow it
had never occurred to him, though, that that would make Candace a virgin. A
sly grin spread across Jennifer's face.  "Well, I think that's a job for
you, stallion." Her hand withdrew from Candace's cunt and grabbed Rick's
soft cock.

   "What?  Right now?"

   "No time like the present." Jennifer leered at him.  Her hand slowly
began to stroke his member.

   "You really want me to...  take her?  Now?"

   "The word is 'fuck', honey, and yes, I do want you to.  You just gave me
a wonderful gift.  The least I can do is return the favor.  Now stop your
yapping and take the bitch's cherry."

   Rick felt his cock hardening under her ministrations.  "Okay."

   "Lie down on the bed, bitch," Jennifer commanded.  Candace eagerly
climbed onto the bed and lay down faceup.  Jennifer climbed up and sat next
to the slut's head.  She undid the pins holding Candace's hair in place and
let it fall out across the pillow.

   "Now lift your legs high in the air and spread them.  Your master is
about to fuck your virgin cunt." Candace complied, spreading herself wide
open to expose the soft pink folds of her shaved cunt.  Jennifer looked up
at Rick.  "Climb aboard, stud," she breathed.

   Rick knelt on the bed between Candace's legs, which were still enmeshed
in the black stockings and capped with the spiked heels.  He placed one leg
on each shoulder and positioned his cockhead at the entrance to Candace's
wet cunt.  He took a deep breath.

   "Do it honey," Jennifer exhorted.  Rick pushed his cock into Candace's
cunt.  Damn, it was tight.  He tried to push it in as hard as he could, but
he could only make a couple inches of progress on his first thrust. 
Candace squealed loudly.  Jennifer rose to a kneeling position and
straddled Candace's head, facing toward Rick.  "Lick me, slut," she
commanded.

   Rick withdrew his cock and pushed in again.  He heard Candace squeal
again, but the sound was muffled, since her mouth was full of Jennifer's
pussy.  Jennifer leaned forward to kiss Rick, breathing softly in his ear.
"Come on, honey, fuck her hard."

   Rick pulled out and thrust again, making a little more progress. 
Candace's cunt was slowly opening up.  It felt so good.  The bitch was
tight!  He couldn't wait until he got the chance to shove his whole cock
into this tight little slut.  Jennifer continued to kiss him, unbuttoning
his shirt and running her hands across his chest, occasionally breathing
further exhortations into his ear.

   Suddenly, Rick felt his cockhead bump up against an obstruction at the
end of a thrust.  "I've hit it," he whispered to Jennifer.

   Her response was forceful.  "Slam it into her, honey.  I love that huge
cock of yours, and I want our little bimbo to feel every inch of it.  Fuck
the bitch's brains out."

   Rick withdrew his cock and shoved it back in with all his might.  He
felt Candace's cherry break as his cock slammed into her, stopping only
when the head of his cock hit her cervix.  Candace screamed.  Rick saw
Jennifer smile.  She looked down toward her crotch, where Candace's face
was still buried.  "Hurts, doesn't it, bitch?" she said.  "You needed a
good fucking.  Don't worry; it'll go away.  You'll enjoy getting fucked,
slut." She turned back to Rick.  "Fuck her hard and fast, honey.  Show her
what it means to be a fuck-toy."

   Rick responded eagerly, pulling his cock out and slamming it back in
again.  He took long, deep strokes as quickly as he could, filling up
Candace's cunt full each time.  Jennifer stopped her kissing and lay her
body down on top of Candace's.  "Keep licking, bitch!" she yelled.  With
her own tongue, she began to tickle Rick's shaft as he fucked Candace,
licking his balls each time he filled the slut up.

   Rick went wild from the sensation.  He had never experienced anything
like it.  He was fucking a cunt tighter than he could ever have imagined,
squeezing his cock like a velvet vise while his fiancee licked at his cock.
It wasn't long before he felt his come boiling inside him.

   "I'm...  coming, honey..." Rick gasped.  Jennifer began to lick him
furiously.  He slammed his cock into Candace one final time as he felt
himself explode.  He never thought he'd be able to come so much in so short
a time, but he could feel his come flooding Candace's pussy.  He felt it
squeeze past his cock as he continued to come.  All the while Jennifer
continued to lick his balls.

   Suddenly Candace's cunt squeezed him tight.  Her back arched and she
began to moan loudly.  The bitch was coming.  "See?" Jennifer asked,
looking at the spot between her legs where Candace's face was buried.  "I
told you you'd like it, you little slut."

   Rick relaxed as his orgasm ebbed and looked down to see his come
dripping from Candace's pussy onto the bedsheets.  Jennifer was lapping
eagerly at it.  She sat up, and Rick could see his come had rubbed onto her
chin.  She flashed him a sultry smile, but it quickly faded s her eyes
closed and her breathing quickened.  Candace's orgasm ended just as
Jennifer's began.  She threw herself at Rick, gripping his tightly as she
screamed through a powerful orgasm.  Rick waited for over a minute until
she calmed down.  He felt some jealousy at first.  She'd never come that
hard from anything he'd done.  But then he rebuked himself.  This was
something he'd done.  Jennifer had asked him to fuck Candace, and he had.
She'd been getting off on seeing him fuck a virgin bitch.  Candace's tongue
was incidental.

   And besides, hadn't Rick just come to a powerful orgasm from fucking
Candace?  But it wasn't Candace that had mattered.  It was Jennifer. 
Jennifer urging him on, Jennifer licking his cock.  She had made it
special. Not Candace.  Candace was just a tool.  A very useful tool, but
just a tool.

   Jennifer's orgasm subsided, and she opened her eyes.  "I love you,
honey." She looked down at Candace's body.

   "You kept going all through your orgasm, slut.  You never stopped
licking your mistress.  Good girl!" she praised, slapping Candace
approvingly on the arm.  She turned back to Rick.  "We're going to have a
lot of fun with her."

   "One question, honey." Rick said.

   "What's that, dear?"

   "You spent several years playing out these domination fantasies."

   "Yeah."

   "And you had sex with a lot of women."

   "Yeah.  So?"

   "Right after our first time in my office, you told me you hadn't made
love to anyone since high school."

   Jennifer smiled.  "I didn't say that.  I said I hadn't made love to a
man since high school."

   "Ah," Rick replied.

   "And I'm planning on making love to a man again tonight.  The
old-fashioned way.  He's going to fuck my very own pussy." She looked down.
"Although I'm sure we can find some way she can help out."

   "Honey, I really don't think I'll be able to do it again until
Tomorrow..."

   "I think you'll be perfectly capable, darling," Jennifer replied, a
gleam in her eye.

   It turned out Jennifer was right.



   Candace's Education ENDING FOUR (Part Two) Sixteen Years Later



   Rick enjoyed the warmth of his wife's body pressed against his. 
Jennifer's head rested on his chest.  They were alone tonight.  Candace had
been given permission to frig herself to one orgasm in her room.  Rick and
Jennifer still enjoyed using her just as much as they had when they'd first
gotten married, but sometimes it was nice just to have a night alone, as a
pair of consenting adults.  Very consenting.

   "Feel better, honey?" Jennifer asked.

   "Yeah, that was just what I needed."

   "Me, too," Jennifer giggled.  Even after fifteen years of marriage, Rick
still found her laughter intoxicating.  Various other things about her were
also still quite enjoyable.

   "Things have just been so stressful recently.  Maybe I cn seduce
Donna..."

   "You lech!" Jennifer responded playfully.  "You've already had your way
with two secretaries, and now you want a third?"

   Rick smiled.  Jennifer's intelligence and business savvy hadn't gone
unnoticed for long in the company after she'd started working as Rick's
secretary.  Within a year of their marriage, she been promoted into the
Procurement department.  Her career had risen steadily thereafter, and
she'd assumed the VP position at the head of the department the year before
Rick had reached the equivalent position in Marketing.

   When she'd left the secretarial position, Rick had managed to move
Candace into the job.  He and Jennifer had done some more work on her with
the hypnotism drug, restoring most of her "normal" intelligence.  It turned
out that a smart blonde made a much better secretary than a dumb one.

   They had managed to set things up so that Candace was able to use her
full intelligence in performing secretarial duties, but a simple slap on
the ass or a hand groping her tits would turn her back into a brainless
bimbo.  She wasn't really brainless then, but the post-hypnotic suggestions
constrained her to act like it.  This had the added side-effect of
reawakening her militant-feminist sensibilities.  Jennifer had loved the
fact that the former radical magazine editor was now a secretary, required
to get coffee and provide other services to her boss.  Jennifer had made
sure to visit Rick quite often for one-on-one inter-department consultation
meetings.  Rick's secretary was, of course, quite useful at these meetings.
But it hadn't lasted forever.  After two years of this, Rick and Jennifer
had decided to get pregnant, Jennifer had stopped taking birth control
pills.  One evening, as Rick and Jennifer had made passionate love, with
Candace licking at Jennifer's clit and Rick's balls, Tom had been
conceived.

   When Jennifer's maternity leave after Tom's birth had ended, Rick and
Jennifer had decided that it made sense for Candace to stay at home and
take care of the baby.  Candace had remained at home since, taking care of
Tom and keeping the house clean.

   She still took care of a lot of Rick and Jennifer's office work, writing
reports and making phone calls from home.  By freeing her master and
mistress from the drudgework of the office, she gave them a lot more free
time to spend with Tom.  Even so, "Aunt Candace" was still responsible for
looking after him when he came home from school, making his lunch in the
morning, and cleaning his room.  Rick knew that Candace loved the boy every
bit as much as he and Jennifer did.

   No one except Jennifer and Rick knew the truth about Aunt Candace's
origins.  Rick's parents thought she was Jennifer's cousin, and Jennifer's
parents thought she was Rick's cousin.  A little bit of conditioning with
the hypnotism drug had ensured that neither family was curious enough to
investigate.  Tom knew that Candace wasn't really a relative, but just an
old friend of his parents who had never gotten married and lived with them.
Which was all true, technically.  Tom was aware that Candace sometimes
slept in the master bedroom with his parents, or even with just one of them
if the other was on a business trip, but never thought anything of it. 
He'd grown up with things being that way, and it never struck him as
unusual.

   Rick was interrupted from his musings by his wife.  "Honey, we need to
talk."

   "Hmmm?  About what?"

   "Tom.  Candace found a magazine under his mattress when she was cleaning
this afternoon."

   Rick sighed.  He knew what a "magazine" meant.  "Well, we knew it would
happen sooner or later.  He is thirteen, now."

   "You need to talk to him, Rick.  Tell him the facts of life."

   "Yeah.  I haven't been looking forward to this."

   "I know, honey, but worse men than you have done just fine."

   "Thanks."

   "Besides, you'll have a visual aid."

   "What?"

   "Candace.  You can use her to demonstrate..."

   "Demonstrate?  You want me to..."

   "Teach Tom how to use Candace."

   "But...  but..."

   "Look, he's probably already got some pretty good guesses what we do
with her in this bed.  It's not going to be long before he figures it out.
He may try to fuck her by himself, anyway.  And Candace would let him, too.
She loves the boy."

   Rick remained silent.



   "This way, everything will be out in the open, and he can let off his
steam in a safe way."

   "But what about girls his own age?  Will he know the difference between
a woman and a bitch?"

   "Yes, he'll know, because you're going to tell him.  And if he can fuck
Candace whenever he wants, he won't be horny all the time, and he'll be
able to relate to girls his age as real people, rather than viewing them as
sex objects, like every other teenage boy."

   Rick was silent for a time.  "Well how is he going to learn to please a
real woman, if he learns by fucking Candace?"

   "That's simple.  We'll teach Candace to teach him.  It'll take some
work, but we can set her up so that from time to time, Tom will have to
work to get her excited.  He can learn by trial and error how to pleasure
her.  In fact, we can set it up so that he can choose whether he wants to
practice lovemaking, or just fuck the bitch.  He'll give Candace the
appropriate commands.  We'll just have to tell him that he has to do at
least one training session for every, say, three times he uses Candace as a
bitch."

   "You've thought of everything, haven't you?"

   "Don't I always?  Then I think by the time he starts dating girls, he'll
be a world-class lover, and he'll be able to satisfy his girlfriends if
they want him to.  And you're going to teach him to respect them, and not
try anything they don't want."

   "You're sure this'll work?  Training Candace to teach Tom how to make
love?"

   "Well, if it doesn't, I could always teach him..."

   "No!" "I'm kidding, honey.  Of course it'll work.  Don't my ideas always
work?"

   Rick had to admit that was true.  "Okay, I'll talk to him Tomorrow."

   Rick closed the door behind him and sat down on Tom's bed.  His son was
sitting next to him, his wiry thirteen-year-old frame perched on the edge
of the bed.  Rick could already see the muscles developing on Tom's arms;
he was starting to put on a man's body.  Rick took a deep breath.

   "Son," Rick began, "there are certain things a man has to tell his son
at this time of his life.  You're not a boy anymore.  Your body is
developing in new and different ways.  You're becoming a man.  And you're
experiencing a lot of new feelings.  Today I'm going to explain what those
feelings are, where they come from, and how to deal with them."

   Tom was obviously nervous, but he responded bravely.  "Okay, dad."

   Rick explained the biological facts of reproduction, most of which Tom
knew.  He explained the sperm, the ovum, the fertilization process, and the
sex act.  He also explained arousal, and where it came form.

   "Now, son, thousands of years ago, when our ancestors lived in caves,
male sex urges served a very important purpose.  Back then, a man wanted to
have sex with as many women as possible, in order to spread his genes
around, so that he would have a lot of children.  Most children didn't
survive long, so it was important to have a lot of them.  At the same time,
he wanted to keep other men from having sex with his women.  So he
developed a very possessive attitude toward women.  He wanted to own them.
And he wanted to have sex with them constantly.  So women were treated as
objects, as possessions." "That was the way it was, because that's the way
we evolved.  Today, we've advanced to the point where we don't have to have
sex all the time to survive.  Children don't die very often.  So we don't
need to treat women as objects anymore."

   "And we know now that we shouldn't.  Just because we evolved to think of
women as objects doesn't mean it's right.  In fact, it's wrong.  Women are
people just like you and me.  They have thoughts and feelings.  They're
capable of doing everything we can do.  Hell, your mother makes more money
than I do."

   "It's important to respect women.  You're going to be dealing with girls
and women a lot more often very soon, and you have to treat them with
respect.  Love is based on respect.  I love your mother more than anyone
else in the whole world, except for you, and that love is based on the
mutual respect we have for each other.  She's also my best friend.  Do you
understand what I'm saying?"

   "Yeah, dad."

   "Okay.  But we still have these urges.  A part of us still wants to
possess and control women.  You have to keep these feelings under control
and only let them out at the appropriate times." Rick swallowed.  "That's
what a bitch is for."

   Tom's jaw dropped.  Nervous, Rick turned toward the door.  "Come in,
Candace."

   The door opened and Candace walked in.  Tom's mouth dropped even further
open.  "Aunt Candace?"

   Tom had never seen Candace dressed like this.  She generally wore
conservative clothes around the house.  But now she was decked out in her
finest slutware.  She wore a pair of black spiked heels and black mesh
stockings and garter.

   A pair of shiny gold panties barely covered her crotch, and matched a
gold bra that displayed her tits proudly.  Her face was perfectly made-up,
and her thick blonde hair spilled gently over her shoulders and cascaded
down her back.  Although Candace was over forty years old now, the regular
use of anti-wrinkle cream, a strict daily fitness regimen, and some choice
bits of cosmetic surgery left her with the body of a slut in her late
twenties.

   "Your Aunt Candace is a bitch, son.  Her purpose is to provide sexual
pleasure.  That's all she wants in life.  Look at me, son." Tom ripped his
eyes off of Candace's chest and faced his father.  "A woman is different. A
woman is a person with thoughts and feelings that you have to understand.
And it's worth it to understand women.  It's very rewarding.  But
sometimes, you just need to vent your urges.  And that's what a bitch like
Candace is for.  No complex feelings.  She just wants to be fucked. 
Understand?"

   "O-okay, Dad."

   "Now, I'm going to show you how to use a bitch.  This is a lot different
from making love to a woman.  You'll hear about that later." Now come over
here and pull her bra down off of her tits."

   Tom rose slowly and walked over to Candace.  As though afraid she was
going to bite him, he gently pulled the bra down until Candace's tits hung
free.

   "Touch her tits, son.  Feel them.  Notice how round and firm they are?
That's one way to tell a slut like Candace from a woman.  A woman has
breasts, which are soft and natural.  A bitch, though, doesn't have
breasts. She has big, round, firm tits." Tom was gently cupping and
caressing Candace's melonlike tits, eliciting soft moans from the slut.

   "Rub the nipples, son.  Notice how hard they get?  A bitch likes having
her nipples fondled, doesn't she?"

   "Yes, master," Candace groaned in a husky voice.  Tom started as she
spoke.  He'd never heard Candace talk that way.  But he continued to fondle
the twin globes of flesh on Candace's chest.  Candace's silicone tits had
been a gift from Jennifer to Rick on their tenth anniversary.  She'd
noticed how much Rick enjoyed paying attention to her own breasts, which
were quite a bit larger than Candace's natural tits had been, and decided
to see if Rick would like a somewhat bustier slave-bitch.  She'd been
right.

   "Try licking them," Rick suggested.  Tom hesitantly bent his head to
touch Candace's nipple with his tongue.  The slut groaned in pleasure. 
"Oh, yes, master...  lick my tits..." Tom still seemed nervous about using
Candace, but her exhortations spurred him to suck her erect nipple
fiercely. Candace's breathing quickened as he did so, and her chest arched,
thrusting her tits against Tom's frantic mouth.  Tom was clearly enjoying
this, and sucked and licked at Candace's tits eagerly, his hands coming to
rest on her hips.

   Rick allowed Tom to have his fun with Candace's chest for awhile.  It
was important that the boy become comfortable with using the bitch's body
for his own pleasure.  But there were other things he needed to learn. 
"Pull her panties down.  Feel between the slut's legs, son." Tom ceased his
petting of her tits and slid her panties down.  His hand cupped her crotch.
Candace adjusted her stance, spreading her legs to accommodate his touch.
Tom seemed less nervous now.  More in control.

   "Notice how smooth she is down there, son?  That's another difference
between a woman and a bitch.  A woman has hair growing down there, but a
bitch keeps her cunt shaved nice and smooth."

   Rick knelt in front of Candace and pointed out her clitoris.  "Rub it,
son." Candace groaned as Tom did so, sliding his finger back and forth on
her swollen clit.  "She really likes that.  If you ever want to reward her
for doing something good, you can rub her there."

   "Now slide your finger up here," Rick instructed, continuing to show Tom
all the features of the bitch's body.  Tom's index finger slid into
Candace's cunt.  Candace was panting with lust now at the penetration. 
Rick smiled.  When Tom took his first ride, the bitch would come.

   "It's wet," Tom said in awe.

   "That's because she's ready to be used.  Are you ready to use the bitch,
son?"

   "Y-yeah, sure," Tome stammered.

   "All right.  There are a lot of ways to use a bitch like Candace.  Today
you're just going to fuck her.  Now remember, a bitch does whatever you
tell her, so you have to give her the right commands.  What you want her to
do is lie down on the bed and spread her legs.  And remember, it's
important to call her a bitch, or a slut, or a whore, or something else
degrading whenever you give her a command.  Go ahead."

   Tom stepped back and swallowed nervously.  "L-Lie down on the bed,
slut," he said, his voice quivering.

   "Yes, master," Candace replied, spreading her body out on Tom's bed.

   Tom was struggling to keep his voice smooth.  "Spread your legs, bitch,"
he growled.

   Candace complied, her legs parting to reveal the damp folds of her
pussy. Her eyes were closed, and she was panting with lust, her tits rising
and falling with every breath she took.  Tom's eyes were riveted on the
sight before him: A hot bitch who obeyed his every command and was
practically begging to be fucked.

   "Get up there," Rick instructed.  Tom shook of his daze and climbed onto
the bed, kneeling in front of Candace's crotch.  Her legs automatically
came to rest on his shoulders.  "Tell her to pull out your cock."

   "P-pull out my c-cock, bitch," Tom commanded.  Candace's skilled hands
swiftly unfastened Tom's belt and unzipped his jeans.  His rock-hard member
sprang free.  Candace groaned in lust at the sight of it.  Rick could see
why.  For a thirteen-year- old, Tom was pretty well-hung.  He'd have to
explain to the boy that when making love to a woman, size was of little
importance.  But Candace wasn't a woman.  She was a bitch, and a bitch
loved nothing more than getting fucked by a big cock.

   "Now, your cock goes in here, where your finger was.  But here's the fun
part.  Just touch these folds here and hold it there."

   The swollen purple head of Tom's cock rested against the outer folds of
Candace's cunt.  The bitch was hyperventilating and thrusting her hips at
Tom, trying to draw his cock into her dripping cunt.

   "Don't go in yet.  This is the best part.  See how excited she is?  She
always gets incredibly horny when she thinks she's about to get fucked."

   "There's nothing in the whole world that a bitch like Candace craves
more than a good fucking.  It's a lot of fun to make her beg for it."

   "In fact, it's a good idea to occasionally act like you're going to fuck
her, get her all excited and hot, and then not do it.  Just have her suck
you off or something.  That way, she'll never know for sure whether she's
going to get it or not, so she'll be all the more desperate and hungry for
a fucking.  Now, what you want to do now is degrade her as thoroughly as
you can.  Tell her how cheap and filthy she is.  Make her beg to be fucked.
Go to it, son,"

   Tom drew a ragged breath.  "You f-filthy little slut," he said, his
voice hoarse.  "You l-look like a cheap whore begging for a fuck, B-beg me
to fuck you, bitch!" Rick was impressed with Tom's abilities.  The boy was
quickly learning how to use a bitch.

   "Oh, please fuck me, master!" Candace breathed.  "I've been waiting so
long for you to realize how much I need your cock inside me.  I got so hot
when I found that magazine under your bed, because I knew that meant you
would be learning how to fuck me soon.  I've been waiting to be filled up
with your hard cock since you were born.  Fuck me, fuck me!"

   Tom grunted mightily as he shoved his rock-hard cock deep into the
bitch's cunt.  Candace shrieked in ecstasy at his entry.  After a second,
Tom withdrew and shoved himself into the slut's cunt again, even harder.

   Candace moaned again.  Rick smiled as he watched his son use the
slave-bitch.  He'd been surprised by Candace's lust for his son's cock.

   No wonder she loved that boy; she'd been lusting after his cock for
thirteen years!  Rick knew Tom would get plenty of enjoyment out of the
bitch over the next several years.

   Tom continued to fuck Candace.  He wouldn't last long, Rick knew.  The
boy was close to orgasm already.  So was Candace.  The bitch was thrusting
back desperately at Tom, her tits bouncing on her chest as she strained to
take the boy's cock as far inside her as possible.  "Ohhhh...  fuck... 
meeeee...." she groaned as Tom pistoned madly in and out of her.

   Tom's hands moved down to grip Candace's flanks, and he began pulling
her onto his cock.  Rick was surprised at the boy's strength.  Each time
his pelvis thrust forward, his strong arms would pull the slut down onto
his cock, and he would groan with animal pleasure.  Tom's nervousness was
gone, replaced by pure lust as he grunted vocally at Candace.  "Nnggh! 
Take my...  Ooomph! ...  cock, you sleazy...  Unngh! ...  bitch!  Gonna ...
Ummph! ...  fuck you good, you ..  Nngh! ...cheap little slut!" All the
pent-up energy and sexual frustration of a thirteen-year- old boy was being
released into the horny slave-bitch on the bed beneath him.  Candace seemed
to be loving it.

   Rick saw his son's body tighten as he slammed his cock into the slut
beneath him one final time.  The boy groaned in ecstasy as he came. 
Candace simultaneously flew into a screaming orgasm, her back arching and
her tits straining toward the ceiling.  Rick was happy that the boy was
enjoying his first fuck, and glad that Candace was having fun, too.

   Rick watched as the boy and the bitch came together, Tom's white jism
overflowing from Candace's cunt and dripping onto the bed.  At last their
orgasms subsided, Candace falling back onto the bed and Tom pulling his
cock out with an audible pop.

   The thirteen-year-old's shaft was coated in sticky with come, and a
thick string of it stretched from the head of his cock to Candace's pussy.
"She'll clean that up for you, son.  Just tell her to."

   "Clean my cock, bitch," Tom said harshly, looking at Candace.

   "Yes, master," she responded, sitting up and bending over to lick the
sperm off of Tom's cock.  Tom watched her, one hand idly playing with her
tits.

   "Now, son," Rick said, causing Tom to look up at him attentively, "you
can use her whenever you want.  Just let her know you want to fuck.  But
remember, she has things she has to do during the day, so don't tie up all
of her time.  Only an hour or two a day, okay?  And remember, no one
outside of this family is to know about this.  Understand?"

   "Sure, dad."

   "All right.  I'll leave you two alone now," he said, turning toward the
door.

   "Well, now, Aunt Candace, you were such a good fuck, let's see how good
a cocksucker you are," Tom was saying as Rick closed the door.  He smiled.
The boy was going to find out just how skilled a bitch Candace was.

   Candace tried to concentrate on her work as she dusted off the shelves
of the entertainment cabinet.  For the sixth time in as many minutes, she
glanced at the clock on the VCR.  1:35.  Fifty-five minutes until Tom got
home.  She tried to ignore the tingling in her pussy, fighting the urge to
rub her slit through the tight bikini panties she wore.

   The bikini bottom and a button-down shirt tied off under her tits were
the most practical clothes she was allowed to wear around the house.  She
wore them and a pair of three-inch heels - the most stable pair of shoes
she was capable of wearing without painfully stressing her tendons - while
cleaning.

   She faced the coming hour with a mixture of dread and lust.

   Over the last several years, Candace had found herself being made use of
less and less often.  When her master and mistress had first moved in
together, they had made use of her almost every night.  Candace had
orgasmed frequently and powerfully.  After she'd started working as Rick's
secretary, she'd gotten use during the day as well -giving Rick a quick
blowjob, carrying some documents up to Jennifer's office and eating her out
while she was up there, even an occasional threeway with both master and
mistress.

   In the years since she'd quit work to care for Tom, her sexual activity
had steadily declined.  Rick and Jennifer had stopped bringing her into
their bed every night, often preferring to amuse themselves more privately.
These days they used Candace together maybe twice a week.  They would both
still make occasional use of her body on an individual basis, but even so,
Candace often went days without being used.  She hadn't minded at all.  Her
own sexual desires had faded as well over time.  She had been perfectly
content to come only once or twice a week.

   The dropoff in use had coincided with an increase in the amount of work
she was required to do for her masters.  Rick and Jennifer both routinely
brought home papers for her to read and comment on.

   She was often expected to write reports and prepare presentations for
her masters.  Oddly enough, between the paperwork she did for her masters,
and the decreasing amount of use she got, she had regained some of her
pride.

   She was still a good little bitch, always eager to spread her legs for
her master's cock or lick her mistress's cunt.  But she was proud of the
fact that she had become something more - an important contributor to her
master and mistress's well-being.  Not an equal, but not really a slave
either.  More a trusted subordinate. But two weeks ago, that had changed.
Two weeks ago, Tom Logan had fucked her for the first time, slamming his
thirteen-year-old cock into her cunt with a force she hadn't imagined
possible.  After his father had instructed him in Candace's use, Tom had
proceeded to use her several times a day.

   The whirlwind pace had left her little time to do her regular work for
her masters.  Last week she'd written a quarterly report for Rick and
inadvertently omitted a whole section.  Rick had caught the mistake and
given her a stern talking-to.  She knew she wouldn't have made the mistake
if she'd been allowed a decent amount of sleep in the last couple of weeks.


   She worked hurriedly.  In five minutes or so she would need to start
fixing up her hair and putting on makeup for Tom's afternoon ride.  Her
pussy tingled again at the thought.

   And the worst part was how much she enjoyed getting used by the boy. 
Tom used her with a zest and power that she hadn't experienced with Rick or
Jennifer in a long time.  To them, she knew, she was a fact of life.  They
took her for granted.  That was what had allowed her to rise to a position
of importance within the family.

   But to Tom, she was a wonderful new plaything, a thousand new
opportunities to explore.  And how he explored.  He'd fucked her in almost
every conceivable position.

   As she was preparing to retire to her room to change for her fucking by
Tom, the door flew open.  She whirled to find herself facing a grinning
boy. "School's out early today, bitch," he said, closing the door.  "And I
see a hot slut begging for a fucking."

   Candace's knees shook as she felt the heat in her cunt intensify.  Her
cheeks burned with humiliation, but the thought of the boy's cock in her
cunt excited her incredibly.  She knew that she'd do anything for it.  And
two short weeks ago she'd been so proud of herself.  Now she was just a
bitch again.

   The boy tossed his backpack onto the floor next to the door.  "Untie the
shirt, bitch.  I want to see those tits," he growled, striding purposefully
toward her.  Candace groaned in pleasure at his harsh language, feeling
simultaneously aroused and disgusted.  Neither Rick nor Jennifer ever
called her a bitch anymore.  She'd forgotten what degradation had felt
like, and both thanked and hated Tom for reminding her.

   She untied the knot in her shirt, letting her melonlike tits hang free.
Tom reached out eagerly to fondle the firm globes of silicone and flesh. 
Candace moaned at his touch.  Rick and Jennifer never seemed to notice her
tits anymore.  Rick had been interested for about a year after Jennifer had
gotten Candace the implants, but the novelty had eventually worn off.  The
sensation of having her tits fondled was one thing Candace had forgotten
about until a few weeks ago.

   Tom seemed to derive endless fascination from her tits - rubbing them,
squeezing them, pinching them, licking them, sucking them.  She often spent
the night in his bed, and he would fall asleep with one hand wrapped around
each of her tits, kneading them gently.  The attention often kept her fully
aroused for several hours.  He hadn't fucked them, but she knew it was only
a matter of time until he did.

   "Blow me, bitch," Tom growled.  "Do a good job and I'll fuck your brains
out."

   Candace whined plaintively, but did as she was told, sinking to her
knees and unzipping the boy's jeans.  His cock seemed to have already
reached its adult size, and sprang out at her as she pulled down his pants.
She dove on it eagerly, her tongue swirling around its thick shaft.  She
felt Tom's hands running through her hair, removing the pins that had kept
it up out of her way when she'd been cleaning.  Two weeks ago, he'd been
hesitant, unsure of himself.  But now his hands moved over her body with
perfect confidence and familiarity.  He pulled her hair out, combing it
with his fingers as she continued to suck his cock.

   She took him as deeply into her throat as possible, her lips sliding
smoothly along his prick.  Her pussy was dripping wet at his promise of a
fucking.  Sometimes he fucked her, sometimes he didn't.  She got so
frustrated by the uncertainty of it all.  And she was thoroughly humiliated
by her continued lust for the mere possibility of a fucking.

   "Yes...  yesssss..." Tom groaned.  "There's a good little slut.  You're
always a good slut, Candace.  I always knew that was what you were.  Even
before Dad told me you were a sex-bitch, I knew.  It was so obvious.  I've
been dreaming of this for so long.  Dreaming of taking my Aunt Candace and
making her suck my cock.  Making you beg for my cock like the bitch I
always knew you were."

   Candace moaned around his cock at the words.  She'd wanted him for so
long, too.  Even when he'd just been born, and Jennifer had let her hold
him, a tiny little baby in her arms, she'd known.  She'd known that someday
the baby would grow into a man, and he would use her just like his parents
did.  She'd looked at his little cock every time she'd changed his diapers,
wondering how big it was going to get, how it would feel inside her.

   "Yes, I think I'll fuck you today, bitch," Tom growled.  "Get up and
bend over the chair," Candace squealed in delight as she stood.  She turned
her back to Tom and bent over, thrusting her ass high in the air and
resting her hands on the arms of the easy chair.  She felt her pussy drip
with wetness.

   Tom moved into position behind her.  His hands grabbed the bikini bottom
and pulled it roughly down off of her hips.  The strings pulled against her
thighs as Tom ran his hands up and down the lips of her pussy, rubbing her
swollen clit.  "Oooooh..." she moaned, "Ohhhhhh...  fuck me, master... 
fuck me..." She whined plaintively, shoving her hips back at his probing
hands.  Her head was fogged with lust.

   "So the little bitch wants some cock, hmmm?" Tom's hands moved from her
cunt to her hips.  Candace thrilled at his solid grip.  She was desperate
to be fucked.  The sensation of his cockhead touching her labia almost
drove her to orgasm.  "All right, slut," Tom growled, "Here it comes..."

   "Tom!"

   Candace felt the hands leave her hips and the cockhead leave her pussy
lips at the voice.  No!  She had to get fucked!  "Fuck meeeeee..." she
mewled.

   But Tom wasn't paying attention to her anymore.  "Mom!" Candace turned
to look.  Sure enough, there was her mistress, standing in the door.

   "What the hell is going on here?" Jennifer asked, slamming the door
behind her as she strode into the room.

   "Mom, I...  I..." Tom stammered.

   "I take off from work early to get a head start on shopping for your
birthday, and I come home to find you about to fuck Candace in the middle
of the living room?"

   "I...  I..." Tom was speechless.

   "Well?" Jennifer demanded.  "D-Dad said that...  Candace...  I could...
use...  her." Tom muttered, eyes downcast.  Candace whined at the
statement. "Fuck me..." Her pussy ached for cock.

   Jennifer ignored her.  "I know damn well what your father told you.  Did
he tell you to fuck her in the middle of the living room?"

   Tom seemed perplexed.  "N-no..."

   "I mean, for Chrissakes, Tom, what if I'd been bringing company in?" Tom
was silent.  "Look, you've got a room, she's got a room.  Try to keep your
pants on long enough to get to one of them, okay?  It's more comfortable on
a bed, anyway."

   "So...  it's okay...  to...  to...  do it with her?"

   Jennifer sighed.  "Of course it is, Tom.  What do you think your father
and I have her around for?"

   Tom was silent.  Candace squealed with need, shaking her ass.  She was
about to explode with lust.  "Mistress...  Master..."

   "Well, don't just stand there, Tom," Jennifer said.  "Look at her.  You
can't get her all hot and horny like this and then not use her.  Now take
the bitch up to your room and fuck her."

   "Yes, mom.  Come on, bitch."

   Candace rose and followed Tom to his room She stumbled after him as fast
as she could with the bikini panties constraining her thighs.

   Upon reaching his room, Tom closed the door behind Candace.  The
downcast boy vanished, replaced by the confident master.  "On the bed,
bitch.  Hands and knees.  Now!"

   Candace moaned with pleasure as she rushed to comply, her cunt tingling
with desire.  She had barely finished following his instructions when she
felt him kneel behind her.  His hands gripped her hips and pulled her back
roughly as his swollen cock slammed into her cunt.  "Ohhh...  yesss!" she
moaned as her pussy squeezed his cock tightly.

   "Horny little slut!" Tom groaned as he continued to fuck her.  His hands
crept forward to grasp her tits.  He pulled them backward with each stroke,
using them as leverage to thrust his cock as far into her cunt as possible.
"Take my cock, bitch!"

   Candace burned with humiliation even as she grew excited at his words.
She knew it was true.  The pride she had taken from the brainwork she had
done was an illusion, an attempt to flee from reality.  This was the
reality.  Getting fucked by her Master, feeling his hands gripping her
silicone tits.  She was a sex-toy.  Nothing more.

   She felt her master's cock throbbing within her.  The sensation pushed
her over the edge into orgasm.  She screamed in pleasure as her master's
seed spurted into her cunt.  All doubt left her mind as waves of pleasure
crashed over her.  This was what she wanted more than anything else in the
world.

   Jennifer tossed her briefcase onto the couch and sat down, letting the
tension ease out of her body.  She leaned back, closing her eyes.  She had
to do something about Tom.

   He was coming along just fine, showing all the normal adolescent urges
and interests.  Soon she and Rick were going to train Candace to be a
lovemaking practice-woman for him, so that he could fit his urges into the
proper social context.

   She was worried, though, about the enthusiasm with which the boy was
using the bitch.  Jennifer didn't think Tom would intentionally hurt
Candace, but a careless accident could happen.  She had to make sure Tom
cared for Candace properly.

   So she'd hypnotize him.  Rick was going on a business trip the next
week; it would be the perfect opportunity to give Tom a little
conditioning. Some of the drug in his breakfast juice, and then a few
carefully chosen suggestions.  She would tell Tom that he cared for
Candace. He cared about her enough to make sure she never got hurt.  He
cared enough to look after her welfare if his parents died before Candace
did.

   It would only take minor conditioning, probably less than half an hour.
And it would be permanent.  Jennifer had become quite a good hypnotist, and
was good enough to plant suggestions strong enough to last a lifetime. 
Teaching Tom to look out for Candace would be a snap.  Just like it had
been fifteen years ago when she'd done it to Rick.

   Jennifer loved him dearly, and knew that he wouldn't abuse Candace.  But
occasionally she worried a little about his darker side.

   She knew it was safe as long as she was around; she and Candace, between
the two of them, were capable of satisfying all of Rick's desires.  But
what if something happened to Jennifer?  Would Rick's urges take control of
him?

   She didn't think so.  Rick had long since dealt with his dark side.  But
she couldn't be perfectly sure.

   She had to make certain that Candace would be taken care of if she died.
She'd been a good bitch, and she deserved that much.  So she'd studied up
on hypnotism, secretly, and then conditioned Rick to care for Candace.

   Jennifer opened her eyes, refreshed, and stood up.  She had to go out
and get Tom's birthday present.  She looked down and saw the boy's pants
lying on the floor, where he'd left them after undressing to screw Candace.


   She picked them up and carried them off toward the laundry room, shaking
her head amusedly.

   "Just like his father."





   1