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Subject: _The Book_'s Universe: ===>_The Book_<=== (pt 11 of 13) - by Blackie (mc, mf, nc)
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*Article: 10489 of alt.sex.stories
*Message-ID: <Jul131519281993@charcoal.com>
*Date: 13 Jul 1993 19:19:29 GMT
*Subject: Story: High Acid Content (_The Book_ pt 11)
*Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
*From: anonymus+5561@charcoal.com (Blackie)
*Organization: Anonymous contact service
*Lines: 1252
Another in the sometimes harried tale of _The Book_, a mind control
story. If you haven't read the story from the beginning, don't try to
start it here. Get the rest first.
This is strictly adult material. If you are underage, you've no
business reading it. Go away. Come back when you're old enough. We'd
love to see you then.
.... m/f, non-consensual ....
All characters are strictly fictional, any resemblance to anyone
living or dead is purely coincidental.
email is gleefully welcome. Most do get replies, I'm afraid some have
slipped through the cracks. However,
*** I WILL NOT EMAIL PREVIOUS EPISODES ***
*** I WILL NOT EMAIL PREVIOUS EPISODES ***
(hmm, must be an echo)
Try your favorite mailserver, several advise me they have _The Book_
in its entirety. I'd like at this time to mention the mailserver run
by Joshua Laff.
Josh runs a mailserver you can get the rest of _The Book_ from at
"laff@sal.cs.uiuc.edu". If you send mail with "Filesend: help" in the
body of the message, you will receive instructions in using the
server. The story is listed as "Story/the-book[-#].Z" where [-#] is
the episode number... (#1 has no number, simply the-book.Z. 'From the
Files of the Institute' stories are listed as
"Story/institute.xxxxxx" where xxxxxx is the 'case number'.
Hit 'n' to skip this.
Copyright (c) 1993, Oogle Bird Enterprises.
All rights reserved, permission granted for a single printed copy for
personal use only. Transmission of this story in electronic form is
permitted provided no alterations are made to text, and this message
is included in its entirety.
_High Acid Content_
A warm summer day in Brooklyn. The sun was high. Sounds of the city
had dropped off as Bob walked into the park. The breeze wasn't
providing much relief.
The park had drawn him, pulling him away from his ride. Something
called to him, something with presence. He released the driver,
sending him back to his own trivial errands. There were plenty of
other chauffeurs if he wanted one.
Today's journey started by searching for the hit men's boss. Nothing
had come of it. The man, it turned out, died in a brutal argument
shortly after ordering the attack on Bob. As a path of investigation,
it totally washed out.
Bob walked the wide paths, relishing the break from his search. There
would be other leads to follow soon. He'd have to let Jorge know about
this. The death seemed to indicate someone was carefully covering
their trail, afraid of discovery.
He paused to watch the leaves above, still in the sun, as the world
passed by below. He wondered what happened to the breeze he'd felt
earlier.
A hundred yards away, a kid with oriental ethnic origins stood. He
held a rifle by a tree, trying to line Bob up in his sights. The
rifle was an Air Force survival .22, one of those little jobs that
folds up into its own stock. Difficult to hit targets at any distance
with, but easy enough to conceal.
The trigger squeezed, the sound a sharp snap. The shot missed.
Before he could fire again, Bob had him. Bob scanned through his mind
looking for clues to the hidden mastermind. Once again, it led to
another man who ordered him offed. The kid had been told to watch for
Bob where the dead man used to hang out. This time the trail would
lead to China town.
Bob was astounded the kid managed to follow him. As he searched the
boy's brain, he found enormous experience at working marks. A
pickpocket and child con artist for the last three years, this was
just the first time he'd been asked to kill someone.
The killing would make him important.
It would gain his membership to the Tong. He would rise from the
ranks of petty thief to someone with power if he succeeded. Bob felt
a little bemused at the ambition, to be a bigger minnow in the same
pond. Bob could identify with the goal.
Adjusting the young assailant's loyalties was simple. Bob sent the
has been assassin to find a place of concealment near the hotel. He'd
be taking him along when he went to the Tong's headquarters.
The boy scampered away, something like a frightened rabbit, aglow with
the task from the new gang he'd joined.
Bob remained where he was, considering the attraction he felt earlier.
It was very strong now. He couldn't reach out to touch the odd geas,
but it remained tenuously there. Then something tweaked his interest.
It was a tree. The one the youngster used for concealment. The tree
was short and stunted, nothing growing near it for twenty or thirty
feet. For some reason the tree radiated symbols, a little like the
amber like medallions.
The sense was vaporous, out of reach every time Bob strove to contact
it. There was a feeling of hidden intelligence, a separate ego, an
active set of thoughts. Still he couldn't reach the stream of symbols,
unable to quite read them.
Bob felt at his wrist. He'd had a watch made like Jorge's to keep the
amber like slip of coin. The symbols weren't slipping through the
shield he'd fashioned around it. The tree was its own source of the
symbols.
The tree was unusual for this park. It was the only one of it's kind
here. It bent with twisted, gnarled, almost muscular, branches. The
thin leaves were healthy and green. They were narrow, about finger
length, green, flat and very sparse.
It felt good to touch the tree. The odd pull vanished as he felt the
coarse bark. It was as though the thing was pleading like a dog,
for attention, a little petting, a little affection.
After a few moments, he decided there was little more to be learned
from the tree itself. So he wandered the park to consider his odd
discovery.
Park paths took him away from the mystery for now. He relaxed,
problems could simply sink away into oblivion until much later.
====
A single bird careened amongst the trees.
Light wind gave the waving branches a surreal atmosphere, almost
dreamlike. The manicured meadow was peaceful in the sunlight, empty
save for the occasional avian adventurer. Fresh cut grass smell
lingered, but the wall of trees about the field moved to and fro
without concern for the activities of such mere mortals.
The park was oddly empty, not just this one field. Bob didn't mind.
The privacy was a good touch after the last few months of living in
Manhattan. He lay back on a blanket he'd 'borrowed', closed his eyes,
and soaked in the quiet.
As he relaxed he cast about him with probes of thought, seeking
activity, a caution brought about by the attempts on his life. Trying
not to dwell on the threat didn't prevent him from taking precautions.
No one nearby was harboring threatening thoughts about him. Oh, some
guy at the far end of the park was contemplating committing a
mugging. Bob saved the elderly couple the punk was eyeing by
performing an instant act of reform on the kid's psyche.
There was also a young woman, he could sense her. She was about 18,
and just out of sight amongst the trees around the field Bob was
relaxing in. He eased a gentle hint of curiosity into her, something
to bring her within sight.
She stepped out to the green field, walking close enough to give him
a good view. Olive brown skin, dark black hair, she was about 5'
9-10" tall. Her legs were almost golden in the sun, looking almost as
long as the rest of her body. He knew it was an illusion, but their
straightness also drew his attention. She wore tight, almost too
revealing red shorts, and a halter top which restrained what appeared
to be very pleasant assets. Some kind of silver jewelry graced her
neck, the end of which was secluded among those same assets.
Bob wondered what she would sound like in orgasm. He wondered, is
she be one of the screamers, a moaner or would she whimper in a totally
submissive state of grace. Or, he smiled to himself, is she one of
the ones who crossed the boundaries and had giggling fits?
She turned to face him. He could see wide eyes, soft red lips, and
stately chiseled Roman nose. Her cheeks were smooth and high,
accenting the fire in her eyes. The dark hair framed her face, also
accenting her features, showing her beauty off as though she were a
porcelain doll.
He reached out to her and played lightly along her nervous system with
the symbols. It was a serious performance, her body an unusual musical
instrument with unique tones and resonance.
She gasped, bringing one slender supple arm up so her fingers brushed
her lips. The other arm crossed her torso beneath her chest, fingers
holding to her side. Eyes dimming as her eyelids struggled to remain
opened, she almost writhed in place from the invisible grasp. Her
head nodded forward, then lurched back, flinging the black hair over
her shoulders like a mane. Her breath rasped in sudden uncontrolled
heat. Her swaying body moved smoothly into an almost dancing rhythm.
He let go physical control.
She remained standing, gasping and regaining composure as he released
the hold he'd taken of her. He was pleased with her response. It
should be more fun to manipulate this woman from child, than simply
squeeze her body sexually dry in one quick burst.
"Oh!" she said, coming to her senses, realizing he was watching and
grinning at her. "Oh, I don't, I, well, I don't know what came over
me."
"That was very interesting. Come on over and sit down."
"I can't. It wouldn't be a good idea, I think."
He relished the way her lips rolled as she spoke. The facial
expressions she used while speaking were acts of sensual behavior as
well.
"Only for a few minutes, really."
She cocked her head as though in thought, unaware Bob had made her
mind up for her. The idea of fleeing passed quickly.
"Okay," as she walked forward, hips swaying, an invitation to direct
and immediate rape. Bob admired the flexing movements of her waist as
she dropped elegantly to the grass near him.
"I'm Bob. And you...?"
"Beth. Beth Covecce."
"Beth, we can have some fun together. Bet you'd like that."
"I'm not sure, I don't know you, like I said before. I shouldn't even
be talking to a strange man alone in the park."
"Have I threatened you?"
"Nooo." She force the admission from herself.
"Have I done anything other than talk to you?"
"Well, nooo."
"Where is the harm in sitting and talking with me?"
"I don't know. I just feel uneasy about it."
Bob could feel her trepidations better than she could. He was thriving
on it, in fact. The nervous reaction to being suddenly aroused so
strongly in front of a total stranger brought mild fear up from her
gut. Her sullen concern excited him.
She looked at him, big browns appraising him as though he were a
prospective employer. Her hands folded smoothly in her lap, arms
ever so slightly pressing her breasts together and out. Bob felt his
own juices stir.
"What do you do Beth?"
"I'm going to be a student at Columbia, this fall. I'm going to enter
the business program..."
"You still live at home?"
"Yes. I'll commute to classes."
It was Bob's turn to be reflective. She'd better dress more
conservatively for that trip. Dressed the way she was, she invited
sexual assault in this city. It was all he could do to keep from
tumbling her right now. But he realized the thrill, the power, the
excitement of using his talent was best drawn out.
"What do you do Bob?" She came to the conclusion she subconsciously
decided to risk meeting him, so she was going to get to know him. He
could sense her will trying to take control of her actions. He
smiled, knowing how helpless she was. She took it to be interest in
her friendliness.
"I consult for a law firm in mid-town. I was exploring different parts
of the city. Today I thought this park looked interesting."
"Yes, it is nice. A little patch of quiet and calm."
A pause lengthened into reverie. They both watched a squirrel zip
across the grass in front of them. The mad dash was both frantic and
curious in nature. A small flock of pigeons settled into a picnic
area at the far end of the field.
Her legs stretched out, showing the turn of her ankles in gentle
geometry. Bob watched her hang her head back, showing the smooth
expanse of tender neck, silver necklace vanishing into her cleavage.
The neck appeared yummy enough to sink his teeth into. He chuckled to
himself, almost a vampire like thought.
"What's funny?," she caught his eyes with hers again.
"I was just thinking about vampires and how tasty your neck looked
just now."
She reddened up. The pink color overcame her tanned skin, giving her a
look of innocence. She tucked her head down, trying to conceal her
embarrassment. She didn't see how this aroused Bob.
The quiet returned again. Bob could feel she wasn't sure why she'd sat
with him, and the remark about her neck disturbed her Italian Catholic
upbringing. What to make of this new acquaintance of hers in the park?
The attempt to fathom his comment seemed to be eat into her thoughts.
"Do you have a boyfriend Beth?" He already knew she did. He was
looking for more ways to bring out the embarrassed pink in her face.
"Yes, his name is Joe. It's really Joseph, but he likes me to call him
Joe."
"Do you do things with him?"
"Oh yes," came vivaciously. "We go out to movies and dinner all the
time. He's so sweet. We're going to get married after college. He's
going away to Holy Cross. Holy Cross is in someplace called Wooster.
Only it's spelled like the cooking sauce, you know Worcester or
something. I think." She pronounced the name like Westchester,
probably more familiar.
"No Beth. Do the two of you do things in private together?"
"Huh?" Then she turned red again as it dawned on her what he meant.
She looked away from him, and spoke, "No, we're waiting until we get
married."
"That's a shame, you don't know what you're missing."
"I can wait, thank you." Her face became wooden, not pleased with the
direction of the conversation.
"I can show you, if you want."
"I think I'll go now, thank you very much." She started to get up. As
she reached her feet, Bob sank a set of curiosity symbols into her,
and a twinge of desire to try something with him.
Standing there, looking at him as though he'd torn her clothing off,
she pondered. He could see the gears clicking in her head. Actually
a stream of symbols spinning in a whirl, including the ones he'd
added.
"I guess I could hang out a while. It's not as if I need to go
anywhere or do anything today."
"That's nice. I'd hate to see you leave when we were just getting to
know each other."
"Um, yeah." She stretched herself back out on the grass, her skin
almost glowing from perspiration in the warm summer weather. At least,
it seemed the sweat came from struggling with the hot weather.
"So what do you two do?"
"Um, I'd rather not talk about it." The embarrassment was strong, the
taboo subject of sex and intimacy was bringing her to an uncomfortable
state of uneasiness.
"Oh, come on now. It can't be so bad."
She pinked up again, turning away before almost whispering, "We kiss."
"Kiss? That's all?"
"He sticks his tongue in my mouth. I like it, but it's kind of gross."
Bob laughed. He couldn't help let his raucous laughter roll him over
in the grass. This was the worst, the most embarrassing thing she
experienced so far about sex?
"What's so funny!?"
He calmed down. The bridge of her nose wrinkled up as she used a
stern expression. Dimples were slightly visible in her cheeks.
"You're embarrassed about necking? In this day and age, when virginity
is so incredibly disposable? I'm hardly sure I know what to say."
"You! You! You!" she sputtered at him.
"It's okay! Calm down. Come over here, that's right, come on over
here."
Pouting like a rebuked child she crossed her arms.
"I won't hurt you, I promise."
She crawled over where he was sitting. She knelt next to him. He
pulled her around, placing her head carefully in his lap. She
resisted lightly, but not too seriously. Along with her furtive
glances, she managed a nervous smile for him. Her hands clenched into
fists over her chest, a barrier against advances.
He smiled at the resistance, knowing how hopeless it really was. He
bent forward, giving the barest of kisses, almost brotherly. She
pushed him back.
"Joe and I..." she trailed off as he made a more serious effort to
engage her in passion. His tongue levered between her lips and glided
along her teeth. She yielded to the kiss, opening her mouth and
allowing him entry. Her tongue remained elusive, evading his own as he
sought after it for greater interaction. Yet her hands were cool, now
against the back of his neck as she pulled his face into her own.
Yes, she thought, this was nice. But Joe, what about Joe? Shamefully,
she felt, she was betraying Joe even by just necking with Bob. Bob
was so, well, in charge. She knew Joe could never be this enticing,
drawing her into a sensual experience like this.
Bob enjoyed the sensation of her inner embarrassment. The pink shade
of her face as her eyes closed with each passionate embrace was
further visual confirmation. She entered into necking with minimal
adjustment, a light tweaking of her interest, her curiosity. The
humiliation was an enjoyable side effect.
His hand rested on her bare tummy. The skin's surface was smooth and
soft, muscled underneath, but delicate to touch. She twitch and pushed
at his arm every time he moved the hand up her rib cage.
Against her struggling resistance, his hand cupped her breast through
the material of the halter. The flesh beneath pillowed his hand nicely, more
than filling his hand.
"Stop!," she squealed, pulling back from him. She rolled off his lap,
and started to shake her finger at him. "I don't do that sort of
thing. Keep your hands where they belong!"
"Where did you think they belonged?" As he asked he sought out the
resistance inside her. She contained many oddly conflicting views, any
of which could cause a lot of trouble. "Tell me how it felt."
"It felt...," uncertainty swept up in her. He prodded her interest and
desire again. She was confused, her face screwed up in a semblance of
deep thought.
He rode the cyclone of symbols in her head, interjecting feelings of
pleasure, blocking sensations of fear. There were many elements in the
spinning thoughts giving rise to fear. Every time he thought he'd
given her counter thoughts to overcome the fear, another would pop up.
Once it was an image of some nameless nun, slapping her for some
trivial error. An idealized image of her father flew past, certain in
itself he would never do this with her mother...
Reluctantly, she drew close again. She sat beside him, offering her
lips as a sacrament to him. Once again her hands gathered themselves
into little fists, but she struggled to keep them down on her lap.
He allowed her to worship through the meeting of their lips. Their
tongues returned to the tenuous game of chasing each other around in
their interlocked mouths. Her brown eyes closed in gentle submission
at each kiss, giving her lovely face an appearance of grace.
Right arm held her across her back, he lightly held her close by the
shoulder. As they necked, he used it to pull her once more into his
lap. Between kisses, her brows furled, eyes pleading him to do her
no harm.
Tension ignored, she allowed his hand to cover her breast unimpeded.
The nipple popped to a stiff erection under the halter. She gasped,
feeling a sinful pleasure seep into her chest from his touch.
"Oh!" She gasped it out, looking to the side. He rolled the nipple,
still behind the cloth, between his fingers and thumb. Her lips opened
with a sharp breath. She clenched her eyes shut, as though in pain
rather than the soothing pleasure he knew she felt.
He slid his hand under the halter, cupping his palm against the flesh.
Her head snapped back, eyes open again, a gasp expelled with startled
surprise. Her hands came up again, both grabbing hold of his forearm.
Yet she allowed him to continue, rolling her head with rhythmic
breaths, coming from low in her diaphragm.
His left hand found the bow and knot at the back of her neck. He
pulled it undone. Rolling back the cupping halter revealed the
unattended breast, a pale mound of soft pliant skin, tipped with a
nipple whose color almost matched her lips. The areola was almost
three inches across with the knob jutting outward just so.
He bent down to her chest. With the tongue's flat middle, he licked
her almost light enough not to be felt. But the nipple's skin
tightened immediately. He took the time to curl his tongue about the
rubbery knob, lashing as well, back and forth. The flesh hardened,
stiff erect, and pointing outwards from her chest.
She was rolling her head now, rubbing back against his leg and waving
her silken hair about. Her eyes rolled back, the lids shuttering open
and closed. For all her shame in allowing him to use her body, she
enjoyed the sensations all his attention gave her.
Pulling his hand free from the halter's bottom string, Bob caught a
glimpse of the end of her necklace, a little silver cross. He smiled,
and moved it so she couldn't fail to see what he was setting aside. A
huge surge of shame and guilt flowed through her, washing in amongst
the sensations of pleasure. He chose this moment to tweak her nipple
harder than before, bringing another gasp of pain and pleasure from
her soft red lips.
"unna, ooohh...," she moaned.
She strove to suppress the guilt and shame, to enjoy the luxurious
sensations his petting brought out. It was a mixed battle, bringing
out Bob's own arousal.
He played with her. The nipples were sensitive instruments,
controlling her arousal without modifying her mind. She rode about on
his lap, something like the sporadic movement of tree tops in the
wind.
Teasing at her now, he settled back, watching her face enjoy the his
manipulation with only one hand. Then he slowed to a stop. She
settled against his stomach, whimpering.
"I never knew. I never knew how nice it would be," she whispered.
"You still don't. All we did was some gentle petting."
"I, um, thank you."
"We're not done you know."
"No?" She shuddered nervously.
"I just think we'll find someplace else to play."
She sat up, starting to retie the halter in place.
"Don't bother. Take it completely off, now."
"What!?"
"You heard me. We'll both enjoy it more."
"But...," she nearly whimpered.
"I insist. Do as you're told."
"Um, as you say," she said. She hesitantly removed the halter,
handing it to Bob, who tucked the cloth into his rear pocket. He
picked up his things, and they began to walk.
She kept looking about. Afraid someone would see her walking, tits
hanging out, with only the little silver cross over them. Thinking of
the cross brought out another bout of humiliated shame. But Bob knew
she now had become determined to explore the experience a little longer.
====
The street wasn't empty, and several people were stared at her. No
one said anything, no one would in Brooklyn. But she felt filthy. The
degradation of walking down her own block on the way home, without any
cover over her full breasts, was eating into her composure.
But Bob refused her quiet plea to return the halter top. Walking
under the windows where friends were certain to be looking out.
Worse still was what he was doing as they walked past people she
knew. In the most familiar manner, his arm was around her back. At the
most embarrassing moments, he reached under her arm and cupped her
breast. The fingers pinched her nipples, shooting a fire of pleasure
along the rib cage and up to her throat. The feelings were intense and
so good. She enjoyed the use he was making of her, even before
strangers. Not to mention the friends and neighbors who were watching
her pass.
Bob sucked in the emotion, excited at how she'd reacted. He was also
pretty exhausted, causing so many people to forget seeing the two
of them. There were far more than he expected in the five blocks from
the park.
Beth was near tears, but stoically accepted her fate. The tears
couldn't hide her heightened breathing though. The humiliating walk
came to an end as they entered the hallway to the brownstone. They
entered her family's apartment and a sigh of relief came out.
Bob knew relief would be short lived. He had already probed the
apartment as they entered.
Air conditioning licked along their sweaty bodies. The cool air gave
Beth at least a series of attractive goose bumps. She was very
unsettled, having brought him home for their fun. However, her mother
would be shopping for some time, and Dad wasn't usually home until
eight lately.
As they stood in the living room, Bob cupped her breast and pulled
her face to his for a passionate kiss.
This was the moment Beth's mother stepped into the room from the
kitchen.
"What in the hell?!" she shouted.
"Mother!" Beth's arms tried to cover her nakedness. Red streaks shot
through her complexion, her head hung to one side as though beaten.
"You slut! This is how you repay us?! The Good Lord knows, we've fed
you, clothed you and..." Mrs. Covecce stopped in mid-sentence. Bob
turned to Beth and sucked in the sensations of humiliation,
degradation, and guilt the girl was exuding. His rock hard prick
strained the confines of his trousers.
Then he looked back at the mother.
She also had long jet black hair, the same slender but full figure,
and a delightfully lovely face. Beth must have inherited the brown
eyes from her. Her stern look was gone, dropped into a trance like
state. Her clothing was interesting considering the weather.
She wore a heavy smock like felt shirt, a mid-calf length skirt, and
a pair of sandals. What he could see of her legs were almost
identical to Beth's and her hands looked delicate but strong. The
shirt was billowy enough to conceal the exact shape of her breasts.
She couldn't be older than 37 or 38. Her face just didn't carry the
wrinkles of any more age than that. He figured with a little make up,
the mother and daughter could pass for sisters, twin sisters.
He adjusted her mind symbols. When he let her free again, she would be
in an odd sort of servant mode. She'd do anything for him. She turned
her life over to him for everything until he reset her later. She
still would hold her own views and express them, but she'd defer to
anything Bob wanted.
It was easy enough to do, just not exciting to take her this way. The
conquest wasn't the same. Bob wondered how other Voices got any
excitement without slower incremental control, allowing the other
will to fight back. Then he let go of the thought.
"Beth," he prodded her to look up.
"What?" She looked at her mother, "What did you do to her?"
"Nothing yet. What's her name?"
"Judith, but Dad calls her Judy."
"Sit down in the large chair Judy," he commanded. She walked over
scowling again and sat down. "How would you like to see me fuck your
daughter, Judy?"
"NO!," squealed Beth, "Not in front of mother!"
"Oh yes dear," her mother replied, dripping acid. "You've been such a
slut, you may as well get plugged now. If I get my way, your father
will take a belt to you later."
Her shame rose further, tears welling from the depths of her eyes. Bob
turned her around before her mother, and kissed her passionately. She
responded even more strongly now. Humiliation brought the heat out in
her.
Bob reached for the young woman's tits. He fondled them as he kissed
her, knowing Beth could no longer resist the bright pleasure he gave
her. He pulled back to watch her reaction to being used before her
mother. Her heat was fanned by the crushing pressure on her nipples,
and a moan escaped her throat.
"You little cunt," said the mother, "you've been screwing around all
along, haven't you. Why else would you sound so much like a whore?!"
"moth..." Beth gasped at a sudden twist Bob gave her nipple. "yess."
She staggered in place. Her head swayed with lust.
Bob stopped molesting the girl. He stepped towards her mother. Then
he turned, looking back at the vision of sex standing confused before
him. Uncertainty made her fidget.
"Take the shorts off, and anything underneath too," he commanded.
She stared at him for a moment, then turned away and began undoing the
zipper. While she was doing so he kicked his shoes off, and began to
unbuckle his belt. As the hot pants hit the floor, Bob's trousers hit
too.
She turned around, displaying the curly black hairs at her groin. She
tried to cover the pink parts with her hands, self conscious being
nude before her mother and Bob both.
"Pretty good looking daughter you have, Mrs. Covecce."
"So you're going to rape my baby, are you? What kind of..."
"Save it cunt," he interrupted. "When I'm done with her, you're going
to beg to be fucked too."
"You wouldn't dare! You filthy cretin. Do you really think I'll allow
you to manhandle me that way!?"
"Yes you will, and you'll like it too."
He bit back the anger he'd started to show. It was his own fault, not
taking the time to more completely take the other woman's mind. Just
for fun, he sent ecstatic jolts shooting through the snarling woman.
Like her daughter had reacted in the same role, she blurred into a
sensual haze. Her eyes rolled back, lips parted, and rolling sine
wave like motions began in her body. She moaned and threw her head
back, intently watching his eyes whenever she could keep her own
open. A hand instinctively raised to her mouth, she sucked a knuckle
in past the teeth. Her shoulders arched back, and her abdomen rolled
a little in lustful heat.
He released the hold he'd seized on her nervous system. The symbols
withdrawn, she blinked. Aware how she'd behaved, she turned her head
away. He read the concern in her, a concern that she was no better
than her daughter.
Beth, also watching this, was both aroused and embarrassed by her
mother's heated response. Mothers never have anything to do with sex,
do they? This was a challenging concept to the young woman. Oh sure,
sex to make babies, but not for fun.
"Now Beth," Bob returned to his initial play thing. The only thing she
still wore was her silver cross. It pleased him to know she imagined
it burned her. It scalded her for sins she believed were about to be
committed. "Sit down on the floor. Spread your legs and touch
yourself."
"I can't do that! Mother told me it would make me sick."
"Hmm, maybe we can fix that." He eyed her mother. "You go join her.
Strip down to your birthday suit and sit along side. You can show her
what to do."
The older woman stood and rather mechanically unbuttoned the shirt,
peeling it back to reveal a black lace bra restraining assets to
compete with her daughter. The skirt restrain her walking stride as
she moved along side her daughter.
She unzipped the skirt, pulling it down around her knees, and finally
over her feet. In equally smooth motions she removed a small slip, and
the bra. Her panties were also black lace, and were soon in the pile
with the rest of her attire.
She sat, spread her legs, and began to rub her clit immediately.
"You spawn of Satan! How can you make me do this?" She startled as
she rubbed the pleasure button. Realization passed across her visage.
"You did this to Beth too! I'll do anything you want, just leave my
baby alone. Please, I beg of you..."
Bob smiled, maybe leaving her in control of her opinions and ability
to speak wasn't such a bad idea. She saw this whole thing as an act of
God's will, the devil's actions for sure. Her own shame was on the
rise, only she was able to express her fears.
"Ahhh!, no, no, no," she said. Her hips had abandoned her control,
and were humping against her hand. Beth joined in, again aroused by
the sight of her own mother, fucking herself with a finger.
Bob enjoyed the bouncing motions the two sets of breasts were making.
Every motion Beth made carried flesh into rolling movements. Judy was
bobbing them up and down as she fingered herself, forcing the flesh
into excited circles.
"Oooooh," Beth made a round shape with her lips, panting, moaning, and
moving as much as her body demanded for the deep feeling.
"Aaaahh, unngg!," cried the mother. She would occasionally whimper and
whine as though she'd been injured. Then a burst of "yes! YES!" would
spout from her lips and she would be moaning again.
He could make out the hands in both cunts, rubbing the pink tissue
with fury. A chorus of moans from the two women grew louder and more
intense.
The mother came first, at least she knew a little of what to expect.
"YESS! YESS!," she screamed, slamming her head from side to side. The
black hair flew about giving the appearance of total abandon. Her body
writhed about, thrashing against the floor. As she finished, her eyes
were filled with tears, sobbing sounds began to come from her.
Beth's moaning had become stronger. She was completely oblivious now
to her mother's state. Her lips swollen in lustful red, she rolled her
tongue along the soft surfaces. Her head bobbed and her eyes slipped
to half mast. She grunted and moaned, occasionally whimpering with
pleasure.
"OH!" Her body went into convulsions. She began to flop about
furiously, and then rigidly pulled herself into a ball. The orgasm
came so quickly and passed just as fast.
Bob finished undressing while the mother and daughter lay side by
side. He knelt beside Beth's head. She smiled.
"That felt so nice." She was still in the haze of after sex pleasure.
He grinned at her. Her mother was looking at the far wall, trying not
to meet his eyes.
"We're not finished yet."
"What should I do?," she asked.
"Get up and suck on my cock."
"Oh. I can't do that."
"Of course you can. You'll find it very exciting."
She turned away a moment. Her mother was unwilling to meet her eyes at
all. Beth got up to a kneeling position and tried to take the stiff
member in her hands. The red nails accented the difficulty she had in
holding his prick. She couldn't bring herself to get a good hold on
it.
He took her, controlling the motions more tightly than before. Her
hand now wrapped about the stem, she leaned forward and opened her
mouth. Tongue out over her lower teeth, she began to lap at him as if
he were an ice cream cone. He pushed arousal signals along the paths
of symbols in her mouth and tongue.
Her excitement grew as she licked and finally sucked him into her
mouth. He could feel the massaging tongue, rubbing the bottom of his
prick. He released control again, now that she was getting involved
more heavily.
She tried to drive him past her teeth into her throat. He'd left a
sense of desire to please him. She worked on evading the gag reflex,
unconsciously aware of his enjoyment being deep inside of her. His
prick slid in and out along her lips. The moisture of her mouth and
the gentle arousal from her tongue were bringing his heat up.
Watching her face, with the cheeks sucked in to aid in producing
vacuum, he could see her eyes were locked on his own face. She watched
him for his release, uncertain what to expect.
He took hold of the back of her head, forcing her to plunge him
deeply. He penetrated her throat, aiding her by modifying her natural
reaction to the cock at the back of her mouth. Her lips rolled
smoothly at the root of his cock, her nose gently pressed his tummy.
Plasma hot semen pumped into her throat, he could feel the spasming
movements inside his cock. The release felt good, her mouth felt
good, his hands clutched in her hair felt good. He breathed in,
trying to recover already.
He let her go. She gasped for breath. When she could control her
breathing again her face grinned up at him in exultation.
"I did it!" As she realized just what she'd done, and the look of
exultation changed to one of startled guilt. Her own pronouncement
brought the tinge of red to her face.
"You sure did," he responded.
Her mother had a look of shock on her face. She was stunned as much by
her baby's happiness at sucking cock as the act itself. Bob grinned,
knowing who controlled the situation in any case.
He sat down on the couch. Crooking a finger to Beth's mother, he
summoned her over.
"Your turn," he tried to sneer, but it came out more like a request.
Although he had no problem dominating his toys, he just couldn't make
himself sound mean yet. "You get it up for me again. No using your
hands either."
Her arms draped across his legs for support, Judy began to lick at his
prick with a bit of disgust, a reaction from her upbringing, not from
her body. Bob realized how she was reacting. He began to give her
shooting sensations of pleasure with each contact of her tongue or
lips. He caused the little jolts to trace down her torso to her tits
and groin. She began to become excited at making contact with his
organ.
Beth watched this, entranced. Her mother was sucking a cock. Sucking
the same cock she'd just finished sucking herself. Her mother seemed
to like it too! Her brown eyes opened wide in amazement. Soon, her mother
had Bob stiff again, the short third leg hard as before.
Bob stopped her mother, who now seemed reluctant to cease. Judy allowed
herself to be pushed to the side. Bob was set on taking Beth, getting
a cherry for himself.
Beth looked at Bob's stiff manhood. Although not large, she thought it
huge. She knew she'd had it in her mouth, even to her throat. Yet
somehow it looked too large to fit inside of her.
He began to kiss her. She felt him guide her hands to the object of
her interest. Judy, her mother, was sitting to the side whimpering as
she was left out for now. Beth could see her mother, jaw open, hands
playing with her own breasts. Having her mother watch this left her
feeling very used indeed.
His hands were on the cushions of her chest, now and then twisting at
the nipples, bringing a gasp from her throat. She was panting with
anticipation, wet in her crotch. She tried to thrust her hips into his
body. She needed the physical stimulus.
He took hold of her thighs. Pulling them apart, he exposed her
maidenhood. He was determined to pop her cherry for her. She knew it
was coming, her fluids were dripping now.
"Oh, please, please don't hurt me. Please," came the plea.
He pushed her ankles, slender muscular curves, up above her shoulders,
bending her up double. She tried to hold open her pussy lips for him,
waiting for the violation of her body she now knew was coming.
With a hand to guide himself, Bob pushed the first inch into her. She
whimpered with surprise at the slight pain. Gently, ever so gently, he
pressed forward. The pressure hurt quite a bit. Then suddenly there
was a light tearing and he slipped in further much more easily. The
pain was still there for a moment.
As he began a more rhythmic in and out motion, she felt a pulse of
heat, an energy throbbing up from her cunt. The feeling came from the
top where the length of the prick rubbed hard against her. She began
to buck back against the pressure there, trying to increase the
stimulation.
Bob enjoyed her expressions as they flashed across Beth's innocent
face. A grinding fight against pain to outrageous ecstatic pleasure. A
silent scream to a hazy lost in lust softness. The tight pulled back
lips, exposing teeth as though in anger, to the fish like kissing
motions.
He dropped his face to hers and plunged his tongue into her mouth. She
tried to wrap her arms around the back of his head to pull him deeper
in her mouth. Her legs reached around his hips, using her heels to
pull him into her groin.
The heat rose within her. Like a brushfire it seared her torso,
through her chest to her throat. As they continued to kiss, she
started to scream, forcing her breath into his mouth as she let loose.
She started to whimper and cry as her body continued to lurch through
the rest of its orgasm.
He held back. As she finished her orgasm, he pulled out. She continued
to cry, working into a sobbing mess. He scanned her, but this was just
her recovery from orgasm. She probably would always cry afterwards.
The guilt at feeling so good was tremendous. She slowly recovered,
smiling.
"You best run off and clean up," he told her. There was a bit of blood
showing, the last remnants of her hymen. He grinned as she scampered
off.
He turned to Judy, who was fingering herself.
"You need attention."
"Not from you, you pervert," she snarled.
He blocked her from orgasm using the symbols. Her lust was growing
rapidly, bound to peak even if she didn't come. He excited the sense
of pleasure rising from her clit.
"Hmm, unngh!" The moan dripped from her as she flopped her head to the
side.
"You won't be able to come until I let you. Yet you will get hotter
and hotter as each second passes."
"OOOOOHH!" Long dark hair splayed out behind her, making waves of its
own.
"You'll have to beg for release." He sat down in the chair, relaxing.
"Unnngh!" Her legs straightened out sharply, her hips bucking.
"Hi," Beth said returning to the room. She came to an abrupt halt,
seeing her mother thrashing about on the floor.
"Sit down Beth. Enjoy the show," Bob directed her to the couch. She
sat without taking her eyes off the sensual display.
"OOOOOHH GOD!" Neck muscles taut, the facial expressions Beth's mother
used were of hot struggle. Struggle for release. Bob stepped up the
erotic signals from her chest and groin. He threw in a tingling
sensation along her neck, where a lover might nibble if so inclined.
"PLEASE! STOP THIS!," Judy shrieked.
"You know how to end this already," he replied.
"GOD! YES, PLEASE COME FUCK ME! OOOOOH," and she slipped into a series
of grunting moans. "PLEASE, I NEED IT. AARRH! FUCK ME, FUCK ME."
Bob laid down, allowing his penis to stand up from his waist.
"Why don't you do the work bitch..."
She crept over to him and swung a leg over him. With the slight but
soft fingers of her right hand, she guided the organ into her dripping
slit. Dropping quickly into place, she impaled herself upon his cock.
Immediately she began rocking and grinding into him. A moment later,
Judy had her hands splayed over his chest, head bent forward. Her eyes
fluttered as her hair formed a billowing tent over their heads.
Bob could see her puffy lips, tongue dashing in and out with each
panting breath. Drops of sweat rolled down the sweeping breasts,
swinging before his eyes.
She strove to milk him, trying to clench muscles in her vagina. The
grip was firm, but not real tight. He could feel her tighten and
loosen along his length. Her hips rolled with more and more urgency as
he tweaked her pleasure centers with even more heightening symbols.
"Annngh! UNNG! Annnngh! UNNG!"
Her patterned moaning and grunting got stronger. She leaned back,
jutting the ample mammaries upward from her body as she leaned on her
hands. He reached up and began to twist her nipples. The rest of her
breast's flesh rolled in waves like human jello.
"Oh!" she exclaimed with every sharp brutalization of her nipples.
Bob felt the rush of semen starting to form in his groin. He released
her artificially restrained orgasm, pinching her nipples as hard as
he could.
"AAAA!!!"
Her eyes ground closed, she forced an animalistic grunt through
clenched teeth and tight lips. Every muscle in her body tightened as
hard as rock, the only movement she allowed herself was the wild,
untamed, and violent thrashing of her head. Hair flying every which
way, she shuddered to the core of her being.
His high pressure surge plunged into the depths of her womanhood. The
seed flowing freely from his cock. He grunted through two releases of
semen into her already wet tissue.
She stiffened again. An aftershock of sex hit her, a mild additional
orgasm. The roughness of the act was letting go slowly, giving her
further surges of pleasure up and down. She finally whimpered and
rolled off Bob.
Bob smiled at the ceiling in lustful afterwards reflection.
====
He took the mother once more, making her enjoy herself far more than
she'd ever imagined possible. He took Beth again too, plunging into
her ass since she wasn't on the pill like her mother. Her humiliation
fed his desire to a furious flame.
When he left, the mother was set on learning more about how to please
her husband. So she could get more out of the intimacy as well. Beth
was set on teaching Joe everything she'd learned.
He'd been forced to adjust the two so they wouldn't destroy their
lives trying to get their partners involved.
It was very difficult to work around their theological beliefs without
destroying their personalities. He wondered to himself how the thrust
of Christianity had become so opposed to sexuality. The admonishments
against usury were more severe in the Bible. As far as he remembered,
the admonishments against sex were just warnings that it distracted
from worship. Of course, the pleasant little embarrassments gave him
such a thrill.
He didn't want Beth or her mother without those sweet humiliating
sensations they radiated like beacons. He wasn't sure if he'd ever
see the two women again. But he also kept their phone number.
Serendipity. This leisure pursuit was exhilarating.
====
Peters stood behind Jones. He waited anxiously as Jones and Heather
slipped into the entertainment room Thadeous commonly retired to
after paperwork.
Thadeous was deeply engaged in reading.
Jones pointed to his boss, and nodded to Heather. She nodded back and
began to concentrate. Her brow broke into a sweat, she seemed to
strain, clenching her fists tightly.
"Heather dear," a voice spoke from within the room. "Don't strain
yourself too hard for Jones just now. He didn't know it wouldn't
work."
The well dressed leader of the Institute stood, setting a book aside.
"Peters, I'm surprised to see you. I thought you'd have told Jones to
forget the idea. You knew what would happen."
"I did, but he insisted. I couldn't tell him why. I didn't want the
Spark hurt."
"You go now. Take her with you. Why don't you let her play with her
toy for a while." The reference to Diane set a smile upon the tech's
face. The smile worked itself into a grin.
"Thank you sir."
Peters took the red head by the arm and led her away. Diane would
service him as well, allowing him to play in the brutal manner he
now liked. Heather would guarantee it.
"Jones. What am I to do about you? You know I don't want to send you
to Jezabel." He sighed audibly. "So you finally noticed I never use a
shield?"
"Yes sir." Jones sweated profusely. His little coup d'etat blown by
the most unexpected result. Did this mean the man confronting him was
a Spark too?
"You shouldn't take long to believe I'm a spark." Almost reading his
mind. "But it isn't the case, not at all. I just happen to be immune
to their influence. My uniqueness led to rapid advancement when I
started work for the Institute.
"No, I'm no Spark. But now you tried to use one to take over from me.
Again, what do you think I will do?"
"I expect you'll send me off to her."
"Ha!," the immaculately accoutered man laughed. "Nope. Actually I
can't afford to lose you."
"What then?"
Walking across to the windows, Thadeous breathed out a sigh.
"Look, I know what you want. You want to be able to control people
like that little whore we just chased out. I'm the man who will give
it to you. You need to be patient though. First my goals. We will
control the politicians when we can get the talent to answer to us,
not some half crazy...," he waved his hand in emphasis, "lunatic like
the spark who escaped."
"What are you saying?"
"First we have to get the solutions through technology. That's why it
was so brilliant of you to remember Peters. He worked on the Spark
simulation project. He's been reforming a research team. They need to
finish the work. Without interruption from some rogue Spark who could
tear us all apart, even me."
"So then...?" Jones began to fidget, wondering why he hadn't seen the
need for the completion of research.
"Just stick with me. Between the two of us we can toss Jezabel aside,
and soon we'll run the whole country. Then you can play with the
little sluts to your hearts content. Give me your loyalty. Just stick
with me!"
"Ah, yeah." He looked out the window, looking at the mountainside
below. "Okay. I apologize. I'll stick with your game plan, you just
see to it I get what I want too."
"Deal."
They shook. Jones thought to himself, this is the most human he's ever
acted around me.
Thadeous thought, if I can only hold a team together. It will work
yet.
====
It was a long time...
The trees still stood deep in the mountains of Norway. Trees twisted
with the terrible climatic changes. In a valley below the Glittertinden,
they sheltered well, prospering despite the ages of Ice and Cold.
At their roots, a translucent red stone remained, sometimes mined for
it's unique qualities. The guardians of the trees had permitted it.
The stone was not really precious, simply unusual, and totally useless
to most people.
A handful of the people passing the valley could be heard. Yet even
now, those same people would only discover the skill if it awakened
for them.
The guardians didn't care, the trees didn't care.
>From a far corner of this spinning world, a call came. The skill had
reawakened. An interesting change in the scheme of things.
In time, all the cosmos would grind to a halt and collapse in on
itself again. Trees and guardians were watching. Because it was
their purpose.
Must everything have purpose?
In the deep northern chill, the stars answered with a silent 'no'.
****
Author's note...
The anon server has given me a case of identity crisis. If you look
you may see either 21262 or 25611 as the anon number. Both will
reach me. I don't know what's going on. [since I wrote this para,
I've waited a day for this to post without success, so I'm trying
an alternate method...]
I've been told some of the sex scenes seem tacked on to the plot.
( :) <== note smiley ) In some cases this is true. Some scenes get
written because they seem like fun, then lay to the side waiting for
opportunities to be shoved into the story.
However, the lengthier than expected sex scene in this episode was
deliberately planned to provide at least one secluded plot point for
the 'climatic' <wicked grin> moment. Even though it seems a little
like an intermission. So if you failed to read it, too bad.
Of course the embedded book pun was irresistible. For the totally
clueless, I will drag the shaggy dog out. Ready? Okay, I'll give you
another moment and a form feed.
_A Tree Grows In Brooklyn_
Sorrrrry, I just couldn't help myself, it was so very apropos for a
shaggy dog. Those of you who genuinely saw it coming, please feel
free to grumble amongst yourselves.
Well, I didn't need to beg help to post this anonymously after all.
In the event the anonymous server dies, I will probably cease posting
_The Book_ pending another anonymous method of dissemination.
"Gosh and Golly Batman! What will we do if Blackie stops writing?!"
"It will be a sad day for Gotham City, Boy Wonder."
"Great Green Gizzards! But what will we do!?"
"Oh for Pete's sake, get a grip on yourself, it's not that bad. It's
not as if people didn't get by without him before."
(Damn actor playing Robin had an eidetic memory too, memorized the
script entirely in one reading.)
If you've something nice to say, please say it email while the anon
server is working. If you've nothing nice to say, well, thank you for
sharing and we must do lunch some time.
-Blackie
"Nothing could be fine-ah
than the smell of her vagina in the mooooorning,
Nothing could be bettah
than to taste her sweet clitora in the mooooorning,
I wanna jump in deeply every time that I rise,
Humping away madly, looking into her eyes..."
-I keep thinking this was Dirty John Volpe? (the only man I ever
heard perform 'Barnacle Bill the Sailor') 1960's bar room ditty?,
upstate NY
--
Post no personals outside alt.personals*.
Replies to this message will be anonymified and induce userid assignment.
Exception: Replies to anonymus+clear+#### will not anonymify your origin.
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