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Subject: {Flying Pen}JDR"Honey's Story A"( MF mc m-dom )[1/2]
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JOHN DARK REPOST
The following story is posted for the entertainment of adults. If you are
below the age of eighteen or are otherwise forbidden to read electronic
erotic fiction in your locality, please delete this message now. The story
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that some might find distasteful, but neither the poster nor the author
make any guarantee. You should be aware that the story might raise other
matters that you find distasteful. You read at your own risk.
The enjoyment of these reposts can be increased by reading the "Coming
Attractions," which includes the titles to be reposted in the next week.
These stories have not been written by the person posting them. Many of
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The copyright of this story belongs to the author, and the fact of this
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below. If you keep the story, *PLEASE* keep the copyright disclaimer as
well.
Honey's Story
The Flying Pen
This story Copyright, 1993 by the Flying Pen. Redistribution via
electronic means as well as a single hard copy is permitted, as long as
1) this message is included; 2) the text is not altered in any way, and 3)
no financial gain is incurred from its redistribution.
NOTE: Since I now have means to transmit directly to the net via the anon
server, feedback is extremely welcome.
WARNING: This story contains sex between not-entirely consenting adults,
and "filler." The "filler" is extremely important to the story, and you
will find yourself without a clue if you skip it. Should you find this and
"dirty" words offensive, then please do yourself a favor and skip this
article.
=====================
Honey's Story
The Flying Pen
Section A:
I have a talent. I can tinker with people's minds. Women seem to be
the most susceptible, although each individual is different. I don't know
why; maybe it has to do with gender, but I can't make men do my bidding as
easily, nor with as few after-effects. The talent is relatively new; I
wasn't born with it, and it probably has something to do with the accident
in the Radiation Safety department where I used to work. I went blind when
all of that isotope was spilled over my head. My sight came back after
about a year, and I soon discovered that the nurse was awful friendly.
Stranger still, she would act just like I fantasized. When Patricia quit
her job to become my full-time private nurse, I knew I was on to something.
Now it was time for me to add to my collection. Jodie, my number one
concubine and primary means of support, had suggested that the act of
exercising my power, the taking of control was more important than having
control. When I first figured out how it worked, many bar bimbos wound up
in my bed, but that quickly became boring. Then I met Jodie. She fought
my control, aware of my mental tampering, and resisted as best she could.
It took six months, but she surrendered herself to me completely, which
made for some incredible sex that night. Her acquiescence to my
possession spices our relationship in a way that I've never felt with
Patricia. I leave Jodie pretty much free, unless we start having a truly
unpleasant discussion, because I respect her insight and who she is. If I
crush that individuality and smother her intelligence, which I am capable
of doing, she would become just another bar bimbo.
The next thing I learned was to avoid getting women from the same place.
Other guys band together really well when they figure out that you're the
one that keeps taking away, or spoiling their opportunities. The power
kept me from getting physically hurt, but it was a strain. So, that
explained why I was sitting outside an office building in another city.
The lunch hour was ending, and a parade of workers headed back to work. I
pretended to read the paper as I half-interestedly scanned the numerous
well-dressed women who walked by. That's when I saw her.
She was with a group of coworkers, male and female, obviously returning
from lunch. I didn't really notice her until she turned my way, and our
eyes met through a clearing in the clumps of people. My gaze quickly
turned into a gawk at the slender, attractive blonde, and I stared,
somewhat rudely, I know. However, the five or so seconds our eyes were
connected was enough for me to establish my presence in her mind. I can't
do anything to anybody whose eyes I've never looked at. I don't know why,
but that seems to be the way the power works. I grabbed as much as I could
from the surface of the woman's mind during that brief period. Honey was
her name. She reacted appropriately to my tactless action, a brief flash
of anger crossing her face, and an indignant toss of blonde bangs as she
broke our eye contact. It was already too late.
I played my opening card that afternoon. "Hello, Honey. It's me, the
guy who stared at you right after lunch." I'm sure she must have jumped
several feet wherever she was. "Yes, that's right, I'm outside your
building, waiting for you to end your day so we can meet properly. I have
no idea where you're at, so I just thought I'd contact you directly,
without a phone, or having to find your office. Mind-to-mind communication
is so -- private, don't you think?"
"GET OUT OF MY HEAD!!!" Predictable response, followed by silence.
There was always an initial silence as the victim evaluated her sanity,
then the imperative order. I decided to let Honey think she'd won the war,
when our first battle was still yet to come. I returned to my hotel.
Tomorrow would be another day.
Honey hid in her office at lunch the next day. "Do you think that you
can hide from me by staying in your office? Honestly, Honey. And no, you
can't see me from your office window." She repeated her imperative from
the previous day, with more force. "Nope. I decided to leave you alone
yesterday, it wasn't anything you did to stop me."
"Why are you doing this to me???" came Honey's panicked thought.
"Because I want you, Honey. I find you attractive, and I would like to
have you. Meet me at the bar at the Hilton hotel nearby after work, and I
will explain more." I left the lobby of the building where she worked. A
faint tickling sensation in my mind indicated that Honey was trying to
reach me, but I had shut her out, leaving her curiosity to do the rest. At
five-twenty, an attractive, well-dressed blonde walked into the hotel bar.
She looked around apprehensively, but I was in a position where I could see
her without her seeing me. I love being mysterious. The cocktail
waitress, my temporary thrall, led Honey to me as I had instructed. She
sat warily, regarding me with a little bit of fear.
"I'm married," she began. As if that made any difference to me. Jodie
had broken her engagement at a very late time to be with me. Honey looked
at my impassive face, and I regarded her clear blue eyes as they filled
with apprehension. I used the eye contact to further probe her mind, and
do a little tinkering. "Please, I'm very happy with my husband," she
begged.
"Slide back from the table and cross your legs for me," I said, quietly
so nobody else could hear me. It was a suggestion made with a little bit
of a mental push, not a command. Her reaction would tell me much about
her; indeed, it would determine whether I should stop the game right now.
"What???" Honey's eyes shot up. Blue lightning flashed from them,
daggers in tow, aimed at me. She leaned forward angrily, yet had the
discretion to lower her voice. Honey stuck a finger in my face and
snarled, "Don't you ever treat me like a plaything to be put on display!
I am not some slave!" I had trouble concealing my smile at her inner fire.
The waitress arrived with a glass of wine for her, and Honey's anger turned
to shock. "How did you know???"
"What you like to drink? I shrugged. "I know a lot about you now,
Honey. But I'd rather you tell me, as we get to know each other better. I
like that a lot more than swiping that information from your mind. Tiny
things such as the wines you like, and what you like to eat are one thing,
but there's way too much stuff in your head for me to get it all. Still,
I'm very impressed by your physical beauty, and your intelligence. You
also have good taste in wines."
This caught her off-guard, and she relaxed slightly. "Ummm... I'm sort
of embarrassed to say this, but I am flattered by your attention. If I
wasn't very happily married, I might think about getting to know you a
little bit. I'm sorry," she apologized. I got up to leave, interrupting
her thoughts. "Wait -- are you going to leave me alone?"
"I'm leaving; please finish your wine and enjoy the rest of your
evening. Yes, I am paying for your drink, Honey. Thank you for the --
discussion." I left, having accomplished my goal of securing my grip on
her mind, and getting her a little curious, which would keep her from
fighting my presence there for a little while longer. I chuckled at her
parting thought. "I don't even know your name..."
I waited until the following Monday before contacting her again. "Did
you enjoy your weekend? Meet me for lunch at the food court in the mall.
My treat, and I'll be waiting for you." I was surprised when she didn't
show up. This called for stronger measures. Tuesday morning, she heard
from me again. "You didn't show up. I waited for you. I'm disappointed."
Honey's silence didn't stop me this time. I could now pick up her stronger
emotions; right now, it was disbelief that I wasn't gone. "I told you: I
want you, and I will have you, Honey." Shock exploded in her mind, leaving
a bright afterimage behind my eyes for an instant. No lunch today. I was
waiting for her in the parking garage.
"Nice car," I commented. Her eyes met mine and I knew what she was
about to do. "No, don't scream." I abruptly snapped on the mental leash I
held, and Honey's breath caught in her throat as she found she couldn't
disobey my command. "Relax, this will only take a minute," I said lightly,
before fixing my brown eyes on Honey's blue ones. Her attentive look and
the silence between us did not indicate the adjustments I was making to her
thought patterns. I let the power slowly recede from her, giving her the
tiniest bit of a warm rush. Jodie loved it when I did that for her.
"See you tomorrow at lunch, Honey?" She hesitantly affirmed our date,
still fighting the effects of both my tampering, and the pleasant warmth
that faded from her senses. Wednesday noon, she sat across the table from
me.
"Why are you doing this to me?" she asked. "I'm a very happily married
woman," she pleaded with her now-standard defense. "My husband would kill
you if he knew. Please don't make me tell him." Nice tactic, but useless.
I shrugged. "You won't tell your husband about us, Honey, because there
is nothing to tell." Her eyes became vacant for a second as the command
integrated itself into her being. I said, "And I have something to offer
you." Again in control of herself, I could feel Honey's protest forming.
I gently grabbed a hold of her mind before she could speak, and toyed with
her pleasure centers briefly. Her eyes fluttered, and she sighed dreamily
as the wave receded. "Did you like that?" Honey lied, quickly saying no.
"I can make you feel like that whenever I want, and I can make it more
intense if you want, for as long as you want." I picked up a sense of
curiosity, still buried underneath many layers, but it was there. Fear
washed over her, but I stilled it. "Don't be afraid of me, Honey. I will
never hurt you, and I will see to your pleasure when you are mine. I am a
gentle master." It was getting close to one, so I had to let her go.
"Monday, you will tell David that you are going to work late. Then you
will call me at suite 214 of the Hilton after work, and we will have
dinner. You will say nothing to anybody of our luncheon. Everything seems
like a long-forgotten dream, so distant, so far away, until next you hear
my voice." I let Honey regain her senses, and the light reappeared in her
eyes. I felt a stream of no's flowing in her mind, and she clung to an
image of her husband like a shield to protect herself. She looked at me
with defiant pride at how she had resisted temptation as she got up to
leave. She was unaware of the command I had implanted.
Six o'clock Monday night, the phone rang in suite 214. "Hello, this is
Honey." I told her to come to my room, with her briefcase and best
professional demeanor. Ten minutes later, Honey walked into the room,
looking every bit the businessperson with a serious dinner meeting. I
looked at her attire. No, that would never do.
"Go into the bedroom and change, there are some clothes and jewelry
waiting for you," I said. Honey was curious, despite her fear, and wonder
at being alone with me. I didn't have to make it a command. I called room
service to order dinner for two while she took a shower and changed. She
was determined to dress for the occasion, even if she didn't want to be
there. Honey came out of the bedroom almost an hour later, but I had to
let the room service person in as one well-turned ankle appeared from
behind the bedroom door. I hurried the room service person along as she
set up our dinner. I couldn't help stealing glances at my gorgeous dinner
companion. Finally, I tipped the woman, and told her not to open the
champagne. The girl smiled broadly at the twenty-dollar bill and left
quickly.
"Please, sit," I invited, bowing in Honey's direction. She looked
incredible, and I couldn't keep my eyes off her legs. She was wearing the
simple blue evening dress I had bought for her, elegant, and demure (except
for the fact that Honey had decided to leave the slit open by the calf. It
was -- very distracting.) "You look wonderful tonight," I almost
whispered, so stunned by her transformation. It was not idle flattery.
"Thank you," she smiled at me. I felt a little swell of pride in her,
and pleasure that she had so obviously managed to capture my fancy. "You
also have good taste in clothes, and the pendant is lovely." A black cloud
cast a shadow across her pleased thoughts. She was wondering about
something, and didn't know if she should ask me. I waited patiently, since
answering questions before people ask them seems to be disconcerting.
Honey looked at the perfectly set dinner table. "Ummm... This dress fits
perfectly. How did you know what size to get?"
"I read it in your mind. Oh yes, the diamond in the pendant is real,
even if it is small. It's a good choice; I don't think that the pearls
would look as good on you." Honey's face fell a little with the
realization that I had picked the indiscreet question from her mind.
"Really, I don't mind your asking," I said lightly. "Please, Honey. Enjoy
my hospitality tonight," I requested, opening the champagne and pouring.
Honey was very aware that I had made her come to dinner with me, and a
little fearful over what I was going to make her do next. It made for a
very quiet appetizer and salad course. However, the champagne soon began
to take effect. She loosened up, the alcohol's fog making it easier for
her to ignore the coercion, and to enjoy the meal. We finished dinner with
pleasant, prolonged conversation, and room service removed dinner to
present us with coffee, dessert, and a split of champagne.
We continued talking through the final course, then I put the trays in
the hall. During this lull, Honey fingered the pendant, becoming silent as
she contemplated it, then reclined in her chair and crossed her
(magnificent) legs. I baldly admired them, as her smooth calf gave way to
her heeled feet. Honey watched me in tipsy amusement, then unfastened
another button of the slit, letting her thighs show a little, intensifying
my rapt attention to her legs. "Really, I'm flattered. Even if the tops
of my thighs are a little too big." There was an instant's hesitation.
"But I'm work-"
"Honey, shut up," I said, irritated. I looked at her. "You are
incredibly attractive, with very very fine legs. Such pretty eyes, and
she only sees fat on her thighs. I really hate it when gorgeous women can
only find their flaws. You don't have to be perfect to be attractive or
sexy." Honey's tongue peeked between her teeth, as surprise, and pleasure
at the compliment filled her thoughts. I also sensed... temptation. Honey
settled back into her chair and regained her unintentionally sexy pose. I
openly appreciated her beauty in silence a little longer. Then I stood up
and held out my hand. Honey stood in response, and I sensed resignation.
No fear, no desire, just... resignation. "No, my sweet. It will not be
tonight," I stated gently.
She let go of my hand and gaped at me. "Look, it's pretty obvious that
you can make me do anything you want. Why don't you -- just get it over
with?"
I touched her face with a finger, and slid it along her jaw line; she
flinched. "You don't understand, do you? I want you to give yourself to
me. And you will, because I can do something for you that no other man
can." To prove it, I let my power flow into her and tugged lightly on the
invisible thread I had connected to her arousal control. Honey's pupils
dilated immediately and her eyelids drooped. Her breathing quickened, and
her face flushed slightly. Honey's legs wobbled slightly. Just as quickly
as it had started, it was over. I pulled the energy back into myself.
Honey gasped, and leaned on me for support. "See? I know you liked that,
and it's very tempting to stay and enjoy it. But," I paused, leafing
through her moderately covered thoughts, "you think of your husband." I
hugged Honey from behind. She could feel the fullness of my erection as it
pressed just above the crevasse of her well-defined butt globes. "See how
you make me feel?" I whispered in her ear. "You're going to leave me now.
But the temptation is there inside of you, and it will grow. You will
give yourself to me eventually."
I let go of her. Stepping back, I said, "Why don't you change back, and
put the dress and shoes back in the box? The dress is yours to keep, but
I'm afraid the pendant would arouse too much suspicion. There's a letter
from the dressmaker explaining how you won it. Goodbye, Honey, and we will
meet again." She left the hotel, very confused, her mind full of curious
thoughts. I left her town, and returned to my own. Jodie and Patricia
were getting a little restless, and had gotten bored with playing with each
other. Jodie told me to come home over the phone. Besides, Honey had
gotten me really hot and bothered, but it wasn't the right time.
=====================
Honey's Story
The Flying Pen
Section A
-30-
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