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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o The 'Bookshelf collection' offers a very wide variety of o
o stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the o
o world. Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups). There is no o
o particular order other than offering them to you in alpha- o
o betical directories. o
o I don’t believe in categorizing things. "I don’t want to o
o be typed therefore I don’t type things myself." I think it’s o
o a lot more fun to browse around and find 'little' surprises o
o that you might not have even thought of looking for. o
o Lest we forget!!! This story was produced as adult en- o
o tertainment and should not be read by minors. Kristen o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
Chinese Girl (MF, mc)
by Anonymous (c) 1997
**
I had managed to obtain the last component of my telepathic amplifier at
great expense and hardship. I was anxious to test it out, but I was also
flat broke. Maybe I could work on both goals at the same time. I
reassembled the amplifier, stuck it in my pocket, and headed off for the
Campus Employment Office.
I got there after a short walk, signed out the thin folder of neurobiology
jobs, and looked around for a seat. I was in luck. The place was packed,
but there was an empty seat across from a rather good-looking Chinese girl.
She was wearing jeans cut-off shorts and a light blue San Francisco t-shirt
showing Coit Tower. She looked up briefly at me, saw that I was neither
someone she knew or needed to be concerned about, and returned to her work.
She was writing down addresses and phone numbers in a notebook, presumably
looking for summer jobs. She appeared to be very diligent and organized.
She would be a perfect test subject.
I tried projecting my first thought commands. "I am the guy sitting across
from you. Pass your wallet to me, but don't consciously realize that you're
doing so." The Chinese girl paused in her writing. I held my breath. Her
right hand dropped her pen and began rooting around in her purse. Her head
was still cocked in her left hand, and she was still frowning at what she
was reading in undiminished concentration. Her right hand emerged, holding
the wallet, and slid it across the table towards me. Her hand then went
back to pick up the pen. I watched as the Chinese girl resumed writing,
none the wiser.
My heart began to race, and I needed to take a few deep breaths. Fuckin A,
the amplifier actually worked. My years of research had finally paid off.
Screw the dissertation, the interminable experiments, the fights with my
advisor, the droning conferences. I could now look forward to a life of
wealth and idle pleasure. Thoughts raced through my head as I glanced
through the wallet. I saw that the Chinese girl's name was Kim Lee. I
briefly inspected assorted family pictures and credit cards and then put
everthing back. I returned the wallet to the middle of the table. "You can
take your wallet back now, but don't notice that either." Her right hand
did so. I was anxious to move on to more intricate and pleasurable
commands.
"Kim, I'll be giving you a series of mental commands over the next several
hours. Please obey all of them without hesitation. As you obey them, don't
realize that you're doing so or that anything out of the ordinary is going
on. To the best of your knowledge you'll be continuing to go uninterrupted
through the job lists. Nod if you understand." The Chinese girl's head
bobbed once, causing her long hair to fall across her face. Her hand came
up to brush it back.
"Take off your right shoe and put it on the table between us." The Chinese
girl's hand released the pen and dropped beneath the table. She leaned
over, lowering her shoulder, at the same time swiveling her head to
maintain a clear view of what she was reading. She fumbled for a long time
with something near the floor. Kim's hand finally came up holding a sandal
with multiple straps and buckles, which it then dropped matter-of-factly in
the middle of the table.
Kim straightened up in her chair and resumed her writing. I kept examining
her, waiting for some reaction. She finally realized someone was staring in
her direction and raised her head. I didn't want to spook the Chinese girl,
so I quickly glanced away. She looked around for a minute and then returned
to her note-taking, shaking her head. To prevent this from being an ongoing
problem, I suggested that to Kim that she wouldn't notice if I stared at
her in the future. I also moved my knapsack to temporarily cover her shoe.
Time to give myself a present. "Kim, play footsie with me under the table.
Be sure to pay special attention to rubbing my crotch." I felt the
well-manicured toes of the Chinese girl start to swirl around my ankle.
Upstairs, Kim's note-taking was going well. Downstairs, her foot slipped
under my pants leg and began rubbing itself along my calves. It then
circled around my knees and ran lightly across my inner thighs. The Chinese
girl unknowingly slumped in her seat to give her leg greater reach. By the
time her foot began to fondle my crotch I was already quite hard.
After several minutes of increasingly vigorous stroking from Kim's lower
extremity I was ready to come. I gave off a sibilant moan. My Chinese girl
looked up at me with a brief expression of prim digust (for making such a
rude noise in a public place) and returned to her reading. I reached
between my legs and with some effort managed to immobilize her squirming
foot. It was deceptively muscular. I tickled her sole and looked up. No
reaction. I pinched her foot as hard as I could. Still no reaction. This
was interesting. I had managed to totally dissociate arbitrarily selected
regions of perceptual and motor cortex from the cognitive association
areas. This could be fun for hours. I mentally suggested to my Chinese girl
that she stop and put her shoe back on. It was time for me to figure out
what we should do next.
I decided I wanted to know more about my first test subject. Since Kim
already had a notebook and a pen, it would be easy for me to give her a
writing assignment. I had her turn to a fresh page and mentally dictated a
short preface, which she carefully copied. I then gave her some open-ended
questions. I took my paper lunch bag out of my knapsack, leaving the rest
of my stuff in front of her, and stood up. Her instructions were to finish
my assignment and then to continue with the work that she had really came
here for. As I walked out, I saw her hunched over her seat, scribbling
furiously, the tip of her tongue poking out from the corner of her lip.
I came back from lunch after forty-five minutes and saw Kim still
scribbling away. I resumed my seat in front of her, placing my empty lunch
bag back on the table. She was apparently still working on my assignment.
My Chinese girl finally stopped writing about five minutes later and put
down her pen. She paused, looking like a wind-up toy whose spring had just
run down. Then she started up again, turning back several pages in her
notebook to resume jotting down the phone numbers and addresses of
prospective jobs.
After working so hard it was time for her to take a break. First I had her
tear out the notebook pages containing her assignment, and slide them to
me. They were covered front and back with neat, well-formed script. I made
some additional telepathic suggestions. Kim stood up, reached out her hand
to grab my empty lunch bag, and started to head towards the bathroom. I had
an excellent view of her tight butt swaying back and forth as she walked
out.
While I was waiting for her to come back, I looked over what she had
written. First came the dictation. "My name is Kim Lee, and I am your
slave. I'm not even aware that I'm writing this. Isn't that funny? My silly
brain still thinks that I'm busily looking for summer jobs. However, the
rest of me is anxious and willing to obey your every command. Please don't
feel guilty about taking advantage of me, since it won't bother me in the
slightest way. I know that you are a hard-working, underappreciated, and
very intelligent graduate student who deserves the quality recreation that
my firm young body can provide." Next came her signature, followed by her
answers on the essay section of my assignment.
Being a conscientious student, Kim had copied each of the questions down.
They were as follows: 1) Please supply all the relevant details about
yourself that you would expect to fill in if this were a job application to
a modeling agency. 2) Please describe all your sexual experiences and
fantasies during the past week. 3) Please describe your deepest, most
embarrasing secret. The details of Kim's responses are best left to the
gentle imaginations of my readers.
I skimmed the essays, keeping one eye on the door, awaiting Kim's return. I
heard suppressed laughter and looked up. My Chinese girl had just come back
into the room. She also heard the laughter and looked around to find its
source. This caused even more laughter. Blushing vaguely in embarrassment
and confusion, Kim headed back to her seat across from me. She was
barefoot, but this wasn't the reason everyone was laughing. It had more to
do with the sandals that she held unwittingly between her tightly clenched
teeth.
As she passed me, Kim casually deposited my paper lunch bag back on my side
of the table. She sat down across from me and resumed her note-taking. I
looked at the sandals dangling from her mouth and smiled. They were quite
funny. They were also drawing too much attention, so I had her drop them
back into the center of the table. I took a peek in the lunch bag. In it
were her bra and panties, which she had also unknowingly taken off while in
the bathroom and brought back to me. I waited five minutes and then quietly
moved all these treasures to the safety of my knapsack.
I looked over at Kim's breasts, loosely shrouded within her t-shirt. "Yawn
and stretch," I prompted. She did so, tightening the fabric around her
breasts and conveniently displaying her large nipples. "Again, please." My
Chinese girl uncomplainingly complied. "Once more." Her breasts swelled a
third time. I felt my cock hardening again and knew it was time for us to
depart for a more private location.
"Kim, please pack up your things. It's time for us to go." My Chinese girl
cooperatively stopped writing and shoved her pen and notebook inside her
knapsack. I packed up my own stuff. I then relayed another virtual scene to
keep her occupied. "Kim, in a minute I'll get up and start walking out of
here. You'll follow, staying about 10 feet behind me. You'll no longer
think that you're looking for jobs in the campus employment office.
Instead, while you're following me and until I give you further notice,
you'll think that you're walking home. The walk will take a lot longer than
usual, because you'll keep running into old friends whom you haven't seen
in a while and who'll have a lot of fascinating things to say. As before,
you will continue to obey all orders that I give you without question, and
you won't notice that you're doing anything out of the ordinary." I stood
up, and we walked out of the building.
I started strolling through the campus with Kim in my wake. In front of me
I spotted a blonde linguistics grad from one of my seminars. She was
walking slowly, deep in conversation with her chair, gesturing furiously
while making some bullshit academic point. I had been fantasizing about
getting into those tight pants for some time now. "Go to the library and
wait on the steps," I projected. "Wait on the steps and smile at people as
they pass by." The blonde grad blinked several times, looking momentarily
confused. Then she stopped talking, turned, and began striding rapidly in
the direction of the library. "Uh, I guess we'll take this up again later,"
hurredly called out the grad's chair to her trailing backside.
I loved my new toy. It would be especially fun at parties. I looked around,
searching for ideas. "Hop," I commanded to my human shadow. Behind me, the
Chinese girl tucked her rear leg tightly beneath her ass. She commenced
bobbing stiffly up and down on the other leg, cheeks, breasts, and ass all
jiggling at once. "Faster," I said, making the oscillations of her body
parts even more frenzied. She began to flail her arms to try to keep her
balance. I didn't want her to hurt herself unduely. "Okay, go back to just
walking." The Chinese girl flowed back into her usual athletic glide.
Kim and I reached the front door of the Neurosciences Building. My office
was on the third floor. I normally would have taken the elevator, but today
I preferred the stairs. I had my Chinese girl walk closely in front of me,
so I had an excellent view of the muscles rippling and bunching in her legs
and calves as she climbed. We reached my office door, and I unlocked it.
Fortunately, no one was around, although I suppose with my new toy it
wouldn't have made much difference. I turned on the light, and Kim followed
me in.
"Stand at attention, Private Kim," I mentally barked, as I reached out to
close the door. She immediately stiffened. I walked around her, critically
checking her posture. On a whim I decided to poke my finger into her soft
breasts and tight belly. This was a mistake. She flinched, her unseeing
eyes rolling in terror, her mouth opening wide as if preparing to scream. I
realized that from her point of view she had suddenly been prodded by an
invisible poltergeist in the middle of her inner walk. "You didn't feel
that," I quickly soothed her. "You won't feel anything that happens between
us." Her expression returned to its previous bland serenity. That was
close.
I moved to clear some space off my desk. I starting transferring piles of
computer print-outs, xerox reprints, old soda cans, and half-empty potato
chip bags to the floor. When I was done, I went over to my office boom-box
and popped in a CD. I turned the volume up about half-way. The retro
new-wave trilling of "Good Stuff" by the B-52's filled the room. "Climb up
there and dance for me," I prompted. Kim hurried to comply, and I plopped
down in my desk chair to watch.
In her own abstracted way, the Chinese girl was a very good dancer. The
movements of her head, hands, breasts, pelvis, and feet all counterpointed
each other in complex syncopation. After five minutes of strenuous dancing,
her arms and legs were covered with a sheen of sweat. Her breathing rate,
however, had hardly changed at all. Obviously, my Kim was in good shape. As
she started to sweat more, her t-shirt also became wet, sticking to and
outlining her breasts. With her long hair swaying behind her, she looked
very erotic.
"Strip," I commanded. She kept dancing, the shirt going over her head, the
shorts dropping to be kicked away. That was all she had on. "Fondle
yourself. Both hands, tits and cunt." Her dancing hands drifted to her
erogenous zones. Her dripping face remained impassive. I decided she needed
a touch of internal stimulation. "Kim, as you are walking home, you see
that guy Chuck, the one you were fantasizing about. He's coming over to
talk to you. Maybe he wants to ask you for a date. Isn't that exciting?" At
last, Kim's breathing started to quicken. Her nipples grew red and hard,
and the musk of her sex filled the air. She was ready, and so was I.
I had already decided to take her doggy style with both of us standing. My
"all-nighter" couch afforded some other possiblities, but would have been
quite cramped. "Kim, stop dancing and climb down. Stand on your toes about
three feet in front of my desk. Lean forward and prop yourself up with your
arms." She did exactly as she was told. I unzipped my jeans and dropped my
shorts. As I reached out my hand to stroke her rounded ass, I had another
idea. "Kim, do me a favor. Each time I press into you, give out a large
squeak, as though you were a giant inflatable mouse." I penetrated her
easily and started thrusting myself vigorously forward against her muscular
butt.
"Eek! Eek! Eek! Eek! Eek! Eek! Eek! Eek! Eek! Eek! Eek! Eek! Eek! Eek! Eek!
Eek! Eek! Eek! Eek! Eek! Eek! Eek!"
"Unnhhh!" I collapsed on top of my Chinese girl, almost knocking her over.
In a daze I climbed off and started pulling up my clothes. Wow, that was
quite a rush. My head was still pounding.
I dropped into my chair a second time. I positioned Kim on her hands and
knees in front of me so I could lay my feet in the middle of her supple
back. Happy with my new living footrest, I leaned back in my chair,
simultaneously gazing out the window at the campus scurrying below me. I
reviewed my plans for the rest of the afternoon. The bank, and definitely
the mall. There was something I was forgetting. Ah yes, the library. Can't
miss the library. My tired cock stirred briefly. I hoped I was up to it.
After getting my breath back, I stood up and reached for my knapsack. I
told Kim to get dressed and handed her back her bra and panties. I decided
to keep the sandals as a souvenir. It was time to say goodbye to my
favorite Chinese girl. "Kim, give me a kiss. The same kind of kiss that you
gave to that guy Bill when you were making out with him earlier this week."
Kim walked over to me, stood on her toes, put her arms around me, and
pressed her lips up towards mine. As our tongues met, I looked closely into
her wide, shining eyes. They were not blank - never blank - just
distracted. I reached up to stroke her hair. After a minute I broke off the
kiss, a little misty-eyed. I would miss her.
"Kim, go home. When you get to the part of the walk that you usually take
between the Campus Employment office and your house, merge what you've been
seeing in your head with what you're actually see in front of you. After
that perceive things the way you normally do, remembering that you spent a
perfectly ordinary day at the Campus Employment office looking for summer
jobs and that you're now going home. However, don't realize that your
sandals are missing until you get back to your room, or until someone
points it out to you." She picked up her knapsack and her purse and headed
for my door. The last thing of I ever saw of the Chinese girl was a glimpse
of her trim ankles turning the corner. I went on to have even more exciting
adventures with my telepathic amplifier. Kim never did figure out what
happened to those sandals.
The End