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Subject: _The Book_'s Universe: ===>_The Book_<=== (pt 5 of 13) - by Blackie (mc, mf, ff)
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*Article: 9405 of alt.sex.stories
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*From: an21262@anon.penet.fi (Blackie)
*Subject: Story: Illiteracy Subdued (The Book pt 5)
*Message-ID: <1993Jun7.190439.13911@fuug.fi>
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*Date: Mon, 7 Jun 1993 18:33:12 GMT
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Another entry in _The Book_ series.
some consensual, some nonconsensual,
m/f, f/f,
adolescent (mostly) male fantasy...
As occasionally mentioned, the characters in this story are entirely
fictional, and any resemblance to anyone living, dead or otherwise
rumored to exist is entirely the result of coincidence, and a wild
imagination. No one I know is the least bit like anyone I'd write
about, well almost no one. Okay, maybe a few, but it'd be hard to
prove, even in private. Come to think of it, who are these people
anyway?
Hit 'n' now or you'll just have to put up with it.
_Illiteracy Subdued_
The book was in the box stored down the basement.
Bob dug it up again from amongst the books stored by the furnace. The
basement was only visited occasionally, and none of the boxes had
been disturbed since he last took it out.
His increase in sensitivity caused an interesting problem.
He was reclining, enjoying a few moments of quiet when he realized
he could sense another presence. No, it wasn't Betty, who was
displaying her assets for him, and Randi was out shopping.
The probe he searched the house and neighborhood with turned up
nothing. There was still a nagging sense, a feeling, some little
tickle at the back of his mind.
A roiling feeling stuck with him. After walking from the top of the
house to the bottom, he was drawn, almost pulled to the book. There
was a throbbing mental attraction he could not seem to ignore.
The book was its' same small size. The pages, cover to cover, filled
with the symbology Bob now understood almost perfectly, possibly
better than the original author. It remained as he remembered it.
Climbing the stairs, Bob fingered the book's folded clothe cover. A
brief few steps had him back in the living room. There, book in hand,
he dropped into his chair and turned on a reading light.
Running his fingers along the pages as if it were braille. He was able
to spot some slight errors in the delicately written script. And still
no sign of why he had to collect it from concealment.
Holding each individual page to the light, he looked for watermarks.
Some hint of the origin, any clue to the cause of his odd discomfort
would help. None of the pages yielded any new information.
Flipping through the pages proved nothing, but then... His fingernail,
even cut short as it was, traced the seams of the clothe and paper
binding on the rear cover. A crackle of ancient dried glue popped the
edges, much to his surprise. The binding held tight for the other
seams.
He peeled back the loose seam, separating the paper as best he could.
A cardboard stiffener slid free with difficulty. Along with it
dropped a sheet of paper, and a thin red coin.
The coin, made of some bizarre plastic or gem stone, bore a face on
one side with a triangle superimposed, while on the back was a sharp
bolt of lightning. It was wafer thin, and still thick enough for
the relief work on either side. He slid the coin into his pocket.
The paper contained more symbols. New ones, he couldn't immediately
place. He finally set the sheet aside, resolving that like the other
symbols, these too would become clear to him with time.
The coin continued to draw his attention. Once again, he pulled it out
and stared at it. For a time he seemed to duel pulling urges from the
coin, and realized he was watching symbols within the coin itself.
The idea the coin produced symbols like a person stunned him. Slowly
he built a shield over the coin, like the one he used to hide his own
mind. He was able to draw power from the device itself to run the
shield. The draw he'd felt was gone.
He wrapped the coin in paper, placed it within an envelope and locked
it away in the documents fire safe he owned. The mysteries of the book
and mind control drew his curiosity, but he wanted to control the
time he devoted to each element of this art.
Peace at last settled over Bob. He devoted some time to Betty.
====
None of Bob's women were around. He had carefully avoided interfering
with the professional lives of his bevy of women. Their income was
adding to the household wealth, and allowed him to send them out to
buy new sexy outfits from time to time.
Besides, transferring their property to his name might attract the
wrong kind of attention. They both had separate meetings tonight,
hobby interests or such keeping them away. He had intended to have
some quiet time for reading, just to practice some other
entertainment, but changed his mind.
He'd called Kim, er Bambi, and expected her at any moment. He hadn't
seen her for two weeks. That was the day she'd introduced herself and
explained her experience with the Institute.
He hadn't tracked down the other telepath, the one he'd save from the
telepath radar team the Institute operated. Sooner or later he'd find
the woman behind the mind trace. Meanwhile he intended to explore the
threat a little more.
Lightning flashed, and after silently counting to five, he heard the
collision of thunder. A deep crash, bringing about a strong feeling
of peace in Bob. He allowed the drumming sound of the pummelling rain
to drone through his ears, a lure to sleep if he'd ever heard one.
The doorbell rang over the symphony of the storm. He stood to answer
it. His habit had become to sense the visitor on the other side, and
there was one person, Kim.
He could tell it was her, her poorly shielded mind leaked light
streams of thought, probing her surroundings.
Opening the door, he was immediately rewarded with a view of the
tall, slender, overly busty woman. She was dressed more stylishly
this time, not in the business outfit she had on last time. Her skirt
was a side button down affair, and ended at her knees. Her boots rose
up her calf half way to her knees. The red rain jacket she wore
concealed a lot, but failed to disguise the size of her wondrous
chest. And her hair had grown back in a little more, seeming somewhat
like a thick monk's cut, than any particular salon style. Her head
was framed nicely before a large umbrella she carried.
Bob motioned her in.
As she passed him, she slipped her expression into a lecherous grin.
"Sluts out for the night?" she said peering around.
She seemed to know he was a little embarrassed to have someone know
about the use he put his toys to. It seemed a little odd, considering
she used men the way he was using the telepathically mute women. Of
course, her case might be a direct result of programming she'd
received at the hands of her original telepathic master. Yet, he still
turned somewhat pink at her implied disapproval.
"They have duties."
She sat in one of the lounge chairs he had in the living room. He
went to the kitchen, filled a couple mugs with caf, and returned. She
was courteous as she accepted it, her 'thank you' polite after her
catty remark at the door.
He took a chair opposite her, admiring the round curves she couldn't
help display, having removed the concealing coat. The blouse she wore
only strained the view, no buttons visible at its limits, allowing
the tiny hint of flesh. He could however, make out the barest outline
of bra.
"You know, the strain of hiding wouldn't be so bad if you didn't
emit so much noise."
She retrieved calm, after a brief look of fear. "So you've gotten
much more control than I have."
"Why did you seek me out in the first place," he inquired.
"So you could help me hide better."
"I don't believe you. You thought I was inexperienced. Unable to
protect myself. Surprise, you were wrong, fess up."
"I figured to get control of you, and use you as a shield if they
found me again."
"And when that didn't work?"
"I figured something would break for me." She lashed out a testing
probe again, trying to grip on something in his mind. It resembled a
boa constrictor trying to get a good grip on a basketball. His phony
personality, displayed above shielding he'd developed to protect him
from the onslaught of normals, completely mystified her. "How the
fuck do you do that?" she asked.
"It seemed likely to me the Institute guys wouldn't be looking for a
normal set of thought processes, so I simulate them."
"I tried copying your pretend self, I haven't managed."
"How do you keep out the voices, all the other minds?" he asked.
She just stared at him, as though he were nuts.
"What other minds?"
"All the noise the people not like us make."
"I don't hear any such noise."
"Oh."
Disturbed, and curious, he wondered if she was naturally immune
to the problem. He stared at the wall for a time. She was reluctant to
break into his musing. She broke the silence first though.
"Listen, I need a good fuck," she said. "I tried to capture one of
the night watchmen the other night, but there's no safe hideaway in the
store I hide in."
Stunned at the straight forward request, he found himself grinning.
====
They adjourned to the bedroom. Shedding only their shoes, they lay
across the bed together. He felt kind of like a teenager. He hadn't
done pretty much straight sexual exploration since the night with
Mary. And that was a power trip for him. He liked having the control
over her a little bit of bribery had gained.
This was completely out of his control. He almost couldn't remember
what it was like to bed someone without using his talent at least
a little.
He started by trying to caress her hair. It was still too short for
him to actually grasp a handful. He rubbed her bumpy scalp, feeling
for the base of the hair follicals. The silky touch of her hair was
sweet. She left her eyes wide open, watching his face to gauge his
behavior. She couldn't read his mind, as she could most men.
Being in bed with her was a sensual experience at arms length. He
began forefinger touches in completely different places. He touched
her elbow, he touched her shoulder, he gently reached out at her
belly button, but just hovered the finger above her taut tummy.
She joined in. Her palms traced the air, about a quarter inch from
his skin or clothes. She kissed into space, no more than a breath
away from his lips. He watched her pink tongue lick above his arm,
the humidity of her breath raising goose pimples along his skin.
The magic of shadow dancing was upon them. For almost an hour they
flowed around each other's body parts. He could see the nipples of
her breasts pop to erection as his hand passed above without making
physical contact. She could see his cock straining for freedom, each
time she waved her hand close to his crotch.
Eventually, as it always does with the shadow dance, the stress of
keeping the gap between one body and another leads to loss of
control. The invisible barrier gave way to feather light touches.
His hand accidentally brushed the underside of her chin. She moaned
lightly, excited contact had occurred. Her finger slipped and traced
a short 3-4 inch line along his shoulder blade. His tongue licked the
backside of her earlobe.
Finally, they had pulled together, enraptured by the undaunted effort
to build up to their lust. Her mouth no longer avoiding the touch of
his lips, they dueled with their tongues. He could feel the smooth
lushness of her hard white teeth. She could suck in the flesh of his
upper lip.
His hands wandered to the expansive chest she virtually thrust at
him. They were very soft, not as firm as he had grown accustomed to.
He felt the nipples hardening again as he touched them this time.
Those nipples were large enough to require his palm to cover them
completely. Her moaning to his touch was low and guttural.
Her hand, by now, was rubbing his cock through the fabric of his
jeans. Every now and then she would strive to squeeze the tip. His
lust rose with each grasping hold she gained. The heat in the room
was beginning to drive them from their clothes.
Bob realized the blouse she wore unbuttoned in the back. He began to
take the buttons apart from the respective button holes. Imagination
took over, he found it odd that in order to thread her, he had to
unthread her clothing.
She wriggled in his arms as he worked the blouse off her. The
brassiere she wore barely covered her tits, so it took very little
effort to get them free of their bindings. Once free, they were like
a sea of warm soft flesh. He sank between them, sliding from one to
the other nipple, trying to suck them sharply to erection.
She let out a few light moans, nothing dramatic. Her nipples
responded somewhat to his lighter suction, so he began to attack them
vigorously, with more force, more violence. She began moaning more
sincerely.
Her short hair had no bounce to it as her head bobbed from side to
side. Her ears showed, flushed red from exertion.
He eased back and sat up. She paused in her reactions, sweat had built
a thin glossy cover over her skin. She began yanking the buttons
through his shirt holes. Her hands would clench and grip at either
side of the button slit and pull. Most of the buttons remained on the
shirt when she finished, oddly enough.
Raking short, but sharp nails across his chest, she gave him goose
bumps. She begin sucking and nibbling at his nipples. They hardened
mildly as the pink red tongue made rough work of them.
She traced spirals on his chest and stomach with her tongue, and as
she did, her enormous mammaries rolled against him. The pillow
softness undulated with motion every time she shifted. The palm sized
nipples fading in and out of erection as he tried to snatch at them,
causing momentary surges of stimulation.
He slipped his hands around the large boobs, trying to actually grasp
without snatching love handle fistfulls of flesh. But she responded
more to the clenched pinches than the teasing caresses.
Finally he traced down her side, feeling the ribs bumping against his
fingers. His hand reached the buttons on the side of her skirt, and
slipped them from their moorings. It came loose, to be pushed aside by
her feet after, leaving a fine display; her girlish little bottom.
He immediately peeled away her panties, leaving her naked at his side.
A black curly covering of fine hair was framed between her legs. It
seemed damp, but he could be mistaken. Handling her crack proved he
was right. She jumped a bit, being touched, but settled in promptly to
having the little knob of flesh at the top of her slit rubbed.
By now she was prying him free from his pants. As the pants and
underwear pulled away, his dick popped to attention, and then they
both were naked. He embraced her full length, intertwining his legs
and hers. The pillowy 'bazooms', as Harry had described them, rolling
with waves every time either Bob or Kim moved.
They returned to necking, his cock sliding between her legs, but not
in her cunt. His hands forcefully rubbed her back, exploring the
cheeks of her ass at times. Her hands combing through his hair,
pulling his neck closer, reaching down to cup his balls at times.
Sounds came from the door, he quickly sensed it was Randi. He knew
she'd heard the sounds, but simply watched excitedly from the door.
He rolled Kim to her back, lifting her legs at the knees up.
Spreading them apart, he began to enter her certainly wet opening.
She was loose, he felt. There was plenty of room in her cunt for his
cock and more. But it squeezed down on him, just the same.
Kim began to shudder. An orgasm came to her in clenching little fits.
She moaned a bit and he pumped at her cunt in a workman like way. He
was enjoying the sensualistic activities, but no real deep heat had
come yet.
Suddenly she lurched out a mind probe at him. Shot like a blast, she
was trying to seize control of his body! Her control commands demanded
more brutal and mindless treatment. She wanted him to hit her
breasts. She was building a lust filled control directed at him, and
he wasn't sure he really could stop it.
The shadow mind he created to hide behind was torn to shreds. Then she
invaded through his mind shield in several places.
His struggle against her control built to a lurch, reacting to a
punch of mind power. He pressed back at her but only held her at bay.
Then he slowly began to work his own controls around the edges of her
battering thought tendrils. He slipped into her mind, hooking little
control centers here, then there. Soon he was able to turn off her
attack on him and control her mind completely.
Pissed, he began to look about inside her. She couldn't pull that
crap on Bob. Now he would use her as she meant to use him.
>From inside her head he could feel the welling flesh of her breasts.
They demanded sensation. The sensation they wanted, well, there was a
brutal demand for hard forceful pain, as a pleasure sense within her.
He used his newly learned personal controls. Sending electric jolts
of sensual sex arousal along those channels of her nervous system, a
real heat began to build within the bitch. He could now control her
in deep detail, and he would. He was angry, she tried to make him a
toy of hers!
He realized the entire struggle occurred in the space of one thrust
into her wet chamber. He now found himself taking her in more heated
plunges. The power he used enflaming his desire.
She received a series of commanding lust sensations. He added to the
physical sensations she received by violently clamping his teeth into
one of her nipples. He could tell it would leave a mark. Her moan was
deep and equally brutal in its intensity.
Her crotch received waves of signals from him to bring white heat
through her lower abdomen. He paid special attention to controlling
the charge coming up from the clitoris. This swollen red nerve bundle
was giving off a range of hot flashing charges, she was ready to
scream.
He could sense her muscles twittering within her cunt. He commanded
them to clamp down on his cock. Suddenly he felt his cock gripped by
her velvet glove. It tightened enough to almost prevent him from
making the in/out strokes. Her entire body moved along with him as he
pulled and pushed his groin.
The panting and moaning sounds she was making were enough to make the
bed vibrate. His own animalistic grunting grew until he surged with
the lava hot semen which pumped out his prick. A second and third
surge of the liquid pumped into her fist tight cunt.
She had been screaming! He didn't really notice while he was getting
off. His ears rang with a primal scream she hadn't stopped since he
had taken her body from her. He kept her in the orgasm, hard and
furious, as long as he could maintain the output of energy.
He had no idea how long. When he let her stop, she immediately dropped
into unconsciousness.
He pulled out and sat up at the edge of the bed. Randi was sitting
propped against the wall. Her pants off, she was drenched in sweat
too. She seemed to have recovered already from her orgasm. She was
fingering herself lightly, trying to arouse herself again.
"God, that was remarkable."
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"I think she went into a screaming orgasm for almost twenty minutes."
"It can't have been that long."
"I know, but I came early when she started. I've already got my wind
back."
"Okay. Maybe it was long, but no twenty minutes."
"Who is she? She's got the biggest tits I've ever seen. They look real
too."
"Real? Of course they're real."
"No. I mean, she hasn't had, like you know, silicone implants or
something."
"Oh. Well, I guess not. This," and he slapped Kim's thighs like she
was a hunting prize, "is Bambi. Anyway, that will be her name around
here. I guess she'll have to move in now. I can't just let her wander
around loose."
"Master, may I?" Randi asked with anticipation. Her desire was growing
for the new conquest he'd brought home.
"Right now?, no. But since she's conked out, you might as well cop a
feel."
Randi walked over and began to feel Kim, now Bambi again, at her
breasts, and at her now soaked snatch. Randi let out slight guttural
groans at the contact with the formerly free telepath. Her hands ran
over the breasts she'd been admiring.
After watching Randi's face glow from the desire she obviously couldn't
conceal, he stood and dressed. Taking the awake woman by the hand he
led her from the room.
====
He sat in the living room. The duel for control, brief though it was,
had left him with some new fears.
She had been less than candid about her escape from the Institute.
Well, she thought she'd told the truth, but now he new different.
He had replaced controls someone else had planted. Not the clumsy
heavy handed touch of Harry, but some unknown master. Someone who had
concealed her memory of being released, but couldn't erase it.
And there was no way of knowing how much she'd reported about him...
He sat and contemplated his options while Randi knelt before him, the
head of his prick popping back and forth through her lips. He would
use her for a while, then try to work more from Bambi's mind.
====
Bambi remembered nothing of their struggle when she awoke. Bob had
seen to that. But he had her settled in by night and the other two
women didn't really mind.
Randi was biding her time to get at Bambi, Betty devoted herself to
reorganizing the household to accommodate the new comer. Betty was
rapidly becoming the household administrator.
====
Bob's growing harem bothered him a little. He started to think about
whether he should cut the numbers back, to avoid problems.
Janet had been dropping in from time to time too.
Although he hadn't let her join in the other games, he'd had her every
way he could imagine otherwise. They were all entertaining.
The day after Bambi's conversion, he'd gone to visit Mary. Patty had
become a delightful playmate, providing the milk supplement to coffee
during his visit. She seemed to like her new role as lover.
He believed his talent unraveled some of the fantasies the women he
collected had. His control and ownership fulfilled his fantasies, but
the more recent women were adjusted to permit their own secret
desires to be fulfilled.
It had astounded him to discover Bambi deeply wanted the physical
abuse, even before Harry had 'changed' her. He was able to trace the
clumsy efforts of the, possibly dead, prior master easily. The newer
controls from the mystery master were far more delicate, he still
hadn't the patience to sift through the seamless construction of
control he'd uncovered. He had however superseded it with his own.
Fear of this other unknown master ran high, since he really couldn't
find a real memory of how she had escaped the Institute. His
nightmares were pretty severe lately.
He also realized the risk of being caught by the Institute called for
extreme caution on his part.
====
Tuesday afternoon he went out to find someone new, a different
pretty face. He had decided to throw caution to the wind for the day.
The fear and tension were beginning to wear him down, and he needed
some kind of fun.
Everything was under control, so to speak, for now. Now he was
walking through the crowded mall, eavesdropping on the thoughts of
total strangers.
Some were concentrating on finding bargains for the items they needed.
The teenage boys were fun, they were deep in fantasies about the
women in skimpy clothing or the teenage girls wandering the mall. It
boosted his horniness, and he intended to satisfy this desire soon.
He wanted to play first. He looked about for an interesting woman to
use. Particularly one who was strong enough to enjoy the experience
he would give her. He was seeking a girl with a suppressed desire to
be owned, to experience embarrassing sexual adventure.
He had liked controlling the women that were deeply suppressing their
need for domination. It became extremely fun to watch as they
resisted destiny, a destiny they longed for underneath.
He walked the length of the mall twice, without finding a suitable toy
to use. He was disappointed and about to leave when his luck changed.
An attractive college student was walking into the bookstore. She was
dressed in a mini-skirt, a white summer blouse, and black high heals.
Her blond hair was in a braid to her waist, a thin flat waist. Her
face had sharp but attractive features. Almost as if the sculptor had
failed to smooth out all the edges. Her lips were thin and
expressive, colored red but not heavily. Her figure was a shapely
36-24?26?-34, not large busted, but well curved. He guessed from the
smoothness of her face and absence of wrinkles at her eyes that she
could not be any older than 20. Okay, maybe about 21.
He followed her into the book store. She was the one for today,
certainly fitting the profile. He sensed a deep rooted desire within
her meeting his desires today.
Finding her in amongst the books on gardening, he made an initial
move.
"Hello, I'm Bob."
She looked him over as though he was a mugger. He smiled in a friendly
manner. She appraised him and dismissed him in her mind as small fish
in the pond.
"What do you want?"
"Well, your name for starters."
"Tough shit spud, beat it before I call the manager." she snapped.
"Now is that any way to talk to me?" He twisted her thoughts a little
and inserted an instruction to fulfill one of his voyueristic plans.
"Why don't you, just because of that little snippet of hostility, how
about you take off your bra, right now?"
"What kind of little pervert are you?" she replied, forgetting the
threat to call the manager. Her tone took on a strong level of
hostility. She began to rattle of a series of personal insults.
But while she spoke she put down her purse and began to remove her
blouse. Her pale white skin was relatively unblemished, and he admired
the small but lush tits as she exposed them to him while removing the
bra. Her large round nipples swelled immediately in the cool air,
coming to sharp little points with pencil width tips.
She put the blouse back on, speaking all the while about his lack of
tact, politeness and anything else she could throw in. He smiled,
his own protrusion raising the clothe of his pants. "So you might as
well drop dead," she ended.
Finally, she draped the bra over her arm and went back to looking at
the books on the shelf.
"Thank you, that was very erotic," he said. She turned to stare at him
as though he hadn't heard a word of her diatribe. He pointed to the
bra on her arm.
She leapt in surprise. Turning pink with deep embarrassment, she
clenched her shoulders in, and her hand flew up between her breasts to
check that this was, in fact, her bra. She gasped.
"When did I do that?" mystified at her own loss of the memory.
"While you were running down my family history. Very educational
explanation of my origins by the way. Imagine my surprise, hearing
all the family ties to snakes. Shall we go have lunch?"
"No way little man." She turned to stomp away, only to find herself
standing before him again. "How do you do this crap?!?"
"You will finish up here. We will then walk down to the steak place at
the end of the mall, arm in arm." She shook her head, and turned to
the cash register with her selections. Bob merely stepped into the
hallway to wait.
A moment later she slipped her arm in his and they began to walk down
the hall. Her bra still hanging across her arm, it was obvious to
everyone her breasts were not encumbered by the additional
undergarment. She pinked up in embarrassment as teenaged boys turned
to stare at her protruding nipples shape, outlined in the fabric of
her blouse. Yet she did nothing to put the bra in a less obvious
location.
"You can't make me do this! You can't!" as they wandered past gaggles
of even younger girls staring at them. "I don't seem able to stop
myself, but that's impossible!"
Bob knew her predicament was startling her. She could no more stop him
now than walk on the moon. He just walked into the restaurant with her
on his arm, still bemoaning her lack of control.
"Table for two, back in the corner," he directed the hostess. She sat
them in a booth, concealed somewhat, but not completely from the rest
of the restaurant.
"Now then," he said, "Let's try introductions again. I'm Bob. And you
are?"
"Emily, Emily Sandhill" his victim replied.
"That's better, see how easy it is when you cooperate?" she nodded
fearfully. She didn't speak another word, however.
"So we're going to have lunch, well maybe a bit more than lunch" He
looked the menu over.
"Why don't you just let me go?, I won't tell anybody, I promise. Just
leave me alone." she suddenly began pleading.
"Oh you won't tell anyone. You'll find that you can't. Tell you what,
you try telling the waiter what you think I'm doing."
She began to think. What would she tell anyone. He hadn't touched her.
She had taken her bra off, apparently at his request in the book store.
She accompanied him to the restaurant, arm in arm, at his request, no
physical force at all. She was sitting with him, not screaming for
help. Who would believe her? She tried to get up, but found instead
she picked up her menu.
The waiter came to take their order. He was a college age young
fellow with heavy eyebrows and a pleasant demeanor. When he left, Bob
had placed steak orders for both of them.
"I don't eat meat!"
"You will today," he answered, "why don't you go to the ladies room
and take your panties off for me?"
"Or what, you'll make me?"
"You want to find out?"
"No! I'll do it." She got up and wandered to the restroom.
When she came back to the table, she held her panties tucked in her
arms, trying to conceal them. She went to put them in her shopping
bags, but Bob reached out a hand. Reluctantly she dropped them into
his hand. He placed them conspicuously on the table where the waiter
wouldn't miss seeing them. She blanched.
"What are you doing?"
"Believe it or not, you like being treated like this."
"I don't need your bloody abuse! Why don't you just go away, and
leave me alone."
"Maybe you'd feel better with your blouse open..."
"No! This is all embarrassing as all hell now! I don't want to be
annoyed by you or any other twerp." She looked down, noticing her
exposed breasts, blouse pulled to either side. This aroused some
twinge of unharnessed desire within her, she began to twitch in her
seat.
The waiter came back, bearing a bread basket and their drinks.
Emily flinched, flushed totally red throughout her face. The waiter
appeared not to notice her predicament. To her surprise, her nipples
became sharply erect and her vagina was getting wet. She was starting
to wet her skirt.
Bob shot her a pleased look, while she looked down at her lap. He knew
he hadn't done anything directly to stimulate her arousal.
"So, you seem to like this kind of game."
"I cannot believe you are getting such a thrill from this, may I
please button up again?"
"Yes, but don't get too used to the idea. Why don't you pull your
skirt up, and finger yourself."
"In public?! Here?!"
"Do you want to do it, or shall I help you again?"
She sighed. She reached her hand under the skirt, slipping her fingers
over the exposed labia. Feeling certain Bob could somehow make her do
this anyway, she began to caress the folds of her bushy groin. She
kept her eyes wide open, watching Bob sit calmly over the table. Her
breath began to become short as her clitoris rose from its recess.
She gently rubbed the little knob, gasping. A small drop of sweat
rolled down her forehead, and dribbled down her nose. "oh god." she
whispered. "oooooooohhhh, aahhh." Her head wrenched to the side, but
she forced it back to watch Bob who was, in turn, watching her
closely.
Her moans forced her tongue to show between her tasty lips, gracing
the corners of her mouth with licks from the tip as her body developed
its desire into motion. Her hips ground the wooden booth seat.
She grunted, humped, and moaned. At least she suppressed the more
violent sounds she tended to make during orgasm. She panted for a few
moments afterwards, trying not to slide down in the seat.
"There, feel better now?"
Amazingly, one of her better orgasms. She couldn't do much but relax
at this point. She felt obliged to admit it to Bob, although she
couldn't say why.
"God yes." she whispered so quietly he had to strain to hear her.
"Good. We'll see what else we can do for you later."
The waiter had returned, was standing there while she had finished up
her orgasm. He was holding their meals on a tray, and started to lay
the plates before them.
"If I may be bold," the waiter said, "your performance was superb."
She sat stunned by the man's pronouncement, as he walked away as
though nothing really unique had happened.
When she turned back towards Bob, he was eating his steak. She looked
with dismay at her own. She'd been a practicing vegetarian for some
time. She secretly had been yearning for meat lately, but her will
power insisted she must stick with the regime.
"Eat it," said Bob, "I know you've been avoiding meat for a while, but
you like steak, and you may find a certain sensuous pleasure in it."
"I can't."
"You can, but I won't force you."
She picked up her knife and fork, cutting off a small piece of the
still red meat. She placed it on her tongue, sucking the blood, the
red juices from the morsel she had selected.
He was right! The taste was fantastic. Her tongue and teeth explored
the exquisite tender bitefull, eventually allowing the battered scrap
of food to wander deliciously down her throat. The next small cut of
the beef, she treated to loving licks with her lips and tongue before
sucking it into her mouth, wondrously discovering the flavor as
though for the first time.
By the time she finished the meat on her plate, she was once again
horny, and even Bob seemed, well, almost acceptable to her lusts.
The waiter came back to the table to clean up, asking if there was any
more they desired from the menu before they left. Bob paid by credit
card, although she believed he would not have to, if he didn't want
to.
"Excuse me, why me!?"
"Because you wanted to be used, and I wanted someone to use. I can see
these things in people."
"I don't think I'm into being humiliated this way."
"You are. I just let you find out."
"I'm confused, but I'm also ridiculously horny. Did you do that to
me?"
"Noooo, but I could feel it rising while you ate your steak. I haven't
done anything to you since making you open your blouse. Lovely tits by
the way." They stepped out into the mall again.
"What are you going to do about my horniness?" she inquired softly. He
looked at her with astonishment. She was leaning onto his shoulder
with a look of snuggled warmth spreading through her face.
"I honestly hadn't given it much thought." He led her away from the
restaurant. The rubbing motion of her legs against each other was
bringing up the heat in her groin.
They ended up in the hall with the security office. No one in there
noticed as they walked in.
She followed him into the captain's office, a man in a black and blue
uniform looked up at them. He stood and walked out. Bob swept the
papers and other items from the desk to the floor with a crash.
"This will do just fine." he said, "no one will interrupt us."
"There are open windows to the outer office." she complained. Bob
looked out, a secretary and a rent-a-cop were chattering with each
other.
"You'll appreciate that better once you get your clothing off." he
replied.
She nervously began undressing. By the time she got the blouse, skirt
and shoes laid aside, she was trembling from an excitement rising from
humiliation. She knew now, what Bob had said was true. She wanted to
be treated this way.
Bob dropped his trousers. His six to seven inch pecker was already at
attention.
"Lay down on the desk."
She sat, then lay across the desk so she wouldn't be forced to watch the
outer office staff looking at her. Bob refused to let her get away
with it and positioned her so she had to watch the outer office much
of the time.
By now the secretary was standing at the window, pointing at her and
the rent-a-cop was apparently making some joke at her expense. She
speculated what it was, something about doorknobs? everyone gets a
turn? How would she face herself in the mirror tonight? She trembled
with excitement as Bob began to suck her pussy.
He licked the lips of her slit first. "ooohh" came free from her
throat. As he worked up the opening to the top, she felt his hot moist
breath against the wetness she'd developed. Then he began to lick and
nibble at her clit.
"Oh yesss, please do that more!" she exclaimed. Now completely unable
to take her eyes off the two people in the outer office.
Bob was holding them there. He knew how brutally embarrassing this was
to Emily. He could feel the heat of her lust moving down from her
head, rather than up from her groin. She was now bucking against his
face. She couldn't stop herself. All while being watched by strangers.
Her head rolled side to side. Her braid whipped about over the end of
the desk. She panted with the excitement of the sex she was enjoying,
in a frighteningly public way. She began to pinch her own nipples, and
tried to pull one up to her lips to suck it. She couldn't quite, but
she tried anyway.
Then Bob entered her. She pulsed with an orgasm. She was so far gone
from him eating her out, she couldn't hold back when he entered.
"GGGGGGGGGGGGOD!!" this time she couldn't keep the noise level down,
this time she knew the woman in the outer office couldn't help but
hear. And she was watching too, so had seen the entire thing. Bob
using her, almost beyond her imagination.
Bob fucked her and made her hips pump for him. He reached out and
fondled the pale breasts waving before him. She was reasonably tight
to his prick and he liked the sensation her twat clutching was making
him feel. The pressure built and eventually he released his sperm, a
flood of semen into her cunt.
"oh yeah." he muttered. After standing with his cock in her cunt
afterwards for some time, he pulled out and began to dress.
"Should I dress too?"
"You want to walk out of here like that?"
"Uh, no, no, not really." she was amazed how much it thrilled her to
be watched while fucking. "um, what about them?" she pointed to the
outer office.
"Come on." he simply said.
As they walked out, the secretary offered a comment.
"You filthy slut. Can't you find some place else to peddle your ass?
How much did you charge him, eh?"
Emily's ears burned red, embarrassed and humiliated even more by this
catty remark. Her groin twitched again.
"Don't worry," Bob said, "They'll forget about this before we've
gotten down the hall."
At the crowed mall hallway, Bob turned to leave, but Emily grabbed his
shoulder.
"Was I really like this all along? or did you do something to me like
you made those people forget they saw us?"
"You already had the desire, just hidden deeply away."
"Will I see you again?," she pouted, mixed in her emotions.
"Maybe, just maybe." he stole her address from her mind.
Bob let himself be swallowed by the crowd. He had enjoyed the little
interlude.
====
He drove past a car with no one in it.
No, that wasn't right. He looked in his rear view mirror. A man was
steering the car just as normal as day. Bob probed the car with the
talent.
No one was there, well maybe there was a void like blob he couldn't
read. Like the men at the Institute radar site.
Oh my, he thought, this guy is one of them. Is he after me? What do I
do?
Then the other car turned away, down a different street.
Bob sighed relief. Some day soon he'd have to do something about
those creeps.
They scared him more each time he came across their presence.
====
He'd had more trouble with Betty and Randi fighting, well, not
fighting. Perhaps it was just, well, struggling.
Yesterday Betty complained about Randi trying to run the house. She
knew she was allowed to boss Randi around a bit. But she and Randi
were often at odds.
Bob didn't really know what kept the two of them at each other's
throat, but he guessed Betty really wanted to be acknowledged as the
queen of his women.
She was paranoid. She thought the others were going to hurt her some
night. She had no idea this was ridiculous since he controlled them
all. And she kept trying to push everyone else around unless Bob
stepped in with his command over her hidden persona.
Yesterday he got pissed about Betty's paranoia around Randi. He
adjusted her a touch, to actually like Randi. He added a little more
to put Randi in charge when he wasn't around. That ought to
straighten her out.
He had been working in the study. At the back of his mind he picked
up Betty and Randi talking in the bedroom. He got up and walked
towards the bedroom. He slipped to the door to watch.
"You were seeing him for almost 6 months before you let him make
love to you?" Randi's voice came.
"Yeah, he was, just fine, but I didn't want to have sex until I got
married." Randi was helping Betty brush her hair. From time to time
she stroked Betty's back too. "But he convinced me I was wrong. I was
also wrong to want him to myself. That was selfish, I think, I'm not
sure really."
"Maybe you just needed better encouragement." This odd sensation was
what he'd picked up, Randi was radiating desire. Betty, without the
unreasoned fear she'd had up until yesterday, was responding a little
to the sensual contact by Randi.
The two girls were both wearing short skirts, revealing blouses only
just showing their nipples through since neither had bras on.
Stockings were part of the uniform of the house, along with high
heels which he knew could not only get uncomfortable, but made some
chores a bit difficult.
But they liked wearing them around him, he'd made certain of that. He
liked to see the curves their legs had with the high heels on.
"What do you mean?"
"A man like Bob is unique. He's skilled in bed like I've never felt
with a man. He sometimes turns me on frantically, just by looking in
my direction. I've no idea how it happens to me. Before him, the only
satisfaction I ever got was from other girls."
Bob knew this, but didn't really want her to lose that innate quality.
He enjoyed being her only 'man'. Again he felt personal power no
other man could really have.
"Really?" By now the hair brush was laid aside. Randi worked her
hands in circles on Betty's shoulders. "I don't like the idea of
women with women. It's wrong."
"Oh?" Randi was now smiling, since she could sense the woman under her
hands was responding to the gentle passes she made along her torso.
"Yep. My mother told me," and Betty looked a little odd for a moment,
"I'm having trouble remembering some of the things mother said
lately."
Randi, worked her arms around to Betty's stomach. Her red fingernail
tipped fingers rubbing the muscles of the other girl's abdomen.
"Well, his technique is unusual, I'm certain he's responsible for
whatever when he gives me Fran from time to time. I get such
incredible satisfaction from it. I'm not fond of men. But he's not the
same, different somehow. Its good with him."
"I see," said Betty, her voice beginning to waver. Randi had worked up
to cupping her breasts, and although she believed this should not be
good, she felt light tingles of excitement circle the firm flesh.
Bob could feel Betty's anxiousness, and mild curiosity. Her head
tilted forward, the eyes fluttering from the mildly arousing massage.
Randi took the bold step of cupping up until her fingers could clasp
the nipples of Betty's breast and roll them.
"No, no Randi, don't do this. I don't want to sleep with you." she
mumbled. Her body betrayed her though, rolling along with the motion
from Randi's gentle administrations. "Oh god, that feels good."
Randi began to kiss her on the neck. Betty leaned her head to the
side, allowing Randi's lips easier access. Goose bumps showed her
excited flesh enjoyed the contact.
"No. I, I can't, I won't."
Randi's fingernails dug into her nipples, lightly, giving her a sharp
jolt of pleasant pain. "Ohhhhh," moaned her voice.
Greedily, enjoying the conquest of the often argumentative woman,
Randi pulled at her breasts, pinching nipples between her thumbs and
forefingers, intermixed with grasping handfuls of the flesh.
Bob reached out to feel what Betty was experiencing. He could feel the
tongue snake into her ear. The heat flowing down towards his groin
from her breasts was prickling his own desires. Her eyes wouldn't stay
open, so he got kaleidoscopic blur of images in the room. His
breathing accelerated to match her pumping lungs.
Randi, holding Betty's left tit's nipple with one hand, reached down
and pulled up Betty's skirt with the other. Here she benefited from
Bob's decision the women were to be available to receive his
attentions at any time.
So Betty was completely available to Randi as well.
Randi slid one of those carefully manicured fingers down the folds of
Betty's cunt. Her middle finger, chosen for the intrusion, found a
moist entryway waiting. Her finger probed within, and Bob felt the
invasion as certainly as Betty.
"God, no, don't do this," she moaned, helpless before the grasp Randi
had on her, "let me go, you, you, bitch!"
Randi was unrelenting, her fingers began working the nub of Betty's
clitoris. Betty was bucking, humping at the finger within her.
"You like this, slut. I may be Bob's whore, but you're just a teasing
little slut and you need to be used."
Bob reached out into Randi's mind, becoming a parasitic observer
within her body. The emotions were intense. He could sense her glee at
conquering the cunt under her fingers. Her own sense of power over
Betty fed his lust of power over both women. He could feel her body
writhing with pleasure although Betty hadn't touched her.
"Oh god, this is wrong! unnng," Betty's lips formed the words,
contradicting her body. "What will Bob think of me? I, I, please
stop!"
"You silly little slut," answered the dominant woman, "He'll think no
more of you than he does now. You are a slut for his personal use, a
cunt, whose purpose is to relieve his sexual pleasure. What did you
think he kept you around for?"
Betty was lurching with Randi's finger. Randi forced Betty to turn her
head towards her face with her left hand. Betty was gone into the
stage of not caring how she'd been aroused. Randi planted a wet kiss
on the other woman's mouth.
Bob could feel victory in Randi's taking of Betty, a strong flush
sensation, broadly giving Randi at least temporary ownership of
Betty's body. He could feel how tasty and sweet Betty's lips were
through his vicarious tactile touch.
Betty couldn't stop the plunging tongue violating her mouth. She
didn't really want to. The dyke Bob kept around was forcing her into a
lusty orgasm and she couldn't stop her. Any moment now Bob would catch
them and punish her for letting the bitch take her. What could she do?
She entered into the kiss with Passion, with a capital P. The softness
of Randi's mouth was a change from what she'd felt with Bob. The
woman's lips were velvet to her touch, and her own tongue found the
taste simply exciting.
Randi pushed Betty to the bed and lifting the skirt, buried her face
in the lush red tunnel before her. Her tongue entered the dripping
cunt, pushing as far in as possible.
"MMMMYYY GOD!," cried Betty. "oohh don't do that!, no, no, no!"
Betty's pelvis had assumed sine wave properties as she thrust and
ground her cunt into Randi's mouth. She denied the desire for the
attention with every word, but her body was hot, aflame with
excitement, reaching for ecstasy.
Randi slid two fingers into the gyrating woman before her. Her fingers
moved in so easily she pulled them back out and added a third. When
this proved easy as well, she drew her hand out again. Then she
pointed all the fingers together and tried to insert her entire hand.
"NO NO, That will hurt me," squealed the sweaty woman in Randi's eager
grasp. "OHHHH!"
But the all the fingers pushed in to the widest part, the area of
Randi's hand from the last knuckle of her thumb to the heal of her
palm. Betty tried to spread her thighs open even wider than they
already were, whimpering with a combination of joy and pain. With a
sudden bump, the wrist Randi pressed behind her hand slipped into the
red/pink gap.
"AAAAAHHHHHH! YEESSS!" screeched Betty, tears pouring from her eyes.
It was impossible to gauge whether from pain or pleasure from looking
at her. But Bob entered her mind and as Betty, felt wondrously full,
stretched wide, and unbelievably hot. There was also a stretching
pain, and a few poking pains where the invading protrusion was hitting
tender points. But even those pains were stimulating the sex within.
Randi clenched her hand into a fist inside Betty and started to punch
in, out, in, out. Each in motion was answered by a grunt of
surprise/lust from Betty. Each out motion with a gasp, struggling to
gulp down air. Tears continued to stream down the side of her face,
but along with the tears began to come a gasping, begging sound.
"moore, I gotta have mooorre, deeper!"
"Oh love, you look so beautiful with my arm in you."
"oh Randi!, you're giving, !!!aaaah!!!, me the best... oh yes!"
"You're so pretty when stroked."
"Oh, I coming! MORE >ung< MORE!"
Bob could feel the fullness along the open lips of Betty's hot love
canal. She was swinging her arms and head wildly in response to the
brutal invasion.
She screamed out. Coming wrenched her around bodily on the bed.
Randi eased her hand out of Betty carefully. She was surprised as all
hell the girl had taken it, first time, with so little trouble. All
her other experiences required enormous amounts of lubrication and
slow careful entry.
Betty was curled up in a ball on the bed, recovering from her intense
and unexpected experience.
Randi saw Bob at the door.
He grinned, nodded in approval, and left.
====
Distantly, at the Institute, two men stood before a large oak desk.
The entrance to the room, a large double door, was shut, the curtains
drawn.
They stood apart, not associating with each other in any way but their
presence. One, a burly man, wore a turtle-neck sweater, and casual
slacks. The other wore a business suit.
"You lost her." came a voice from a chair behind the desk. It was
deep, undoubtably male. The room was dark, and the face concealed by
the deeper shadows.
"I implanted programming to make her contact us every other week. She
only missed one so far..." answered the man in the business suit.
"I don't care! Anything we can program in, can be programmed out. You
blew it. You lost her. She is gone. An observer should have watched
her all the time."
"It would've made other sparks suspicious," a pause, "Sir."
"Find her!" a fist accented by striking the desk.
"Yes Sir!" turn and depart started.
"Oh, and Tyler," the departing man looked back, "If you don't find
her..."
A moment passed. Heavy in the air were other frightening options.
"I understand sir." the man named Tyler left.
"Jones."
"Sir?"
"He'll fail. I know a failure when I see one. Make all the preliminary
arrangements with Jezabel. Then get another team on it. I want to know
when to pull him."
"Yes sir." and the second man left.
A pair of feet, clad in expensive Italian leather, took up residence
on the edge of the desk. They twitched with impatience.
====
Maybe I'll get more done eventually.
-Blackie
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