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o The Bookshelf Directories offer a very wide variety of stories. o
o They have been submitted by people from all over the world. Also o
o from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups). There is no particular order o
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o All works are copyrighted to the author and may not be used for o
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Kristen And Me (MF, mc)
by Anon NixPixer (c) 1993
The THC Adult Text Archive
*
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 blond 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 blond 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 blond 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 blond girl's name was Kristen O'Reilly. I briefly
inspected assorted family pictures and credit cards and then put
everything 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.
"Kristen, 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 blond 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 blond 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.
Kristen'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.
Kristen 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 blond 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 Kristen 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.
"Kristen, 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 blond girl start to swirl around my ankle. Upstairs,
Kristen'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 blond 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
Kristen's lower extremity I was ready to come. I gave off a
sibilant moan. My blond girl looked up at me with a brief
expression of prim disgust (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 blond 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 Kristen 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 Kristen
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 blond 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.
Kristen 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 Kristen O'Reilly, 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,
under appreciated, 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, Kristen 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 embarrassing secret.
The details of Kristen's responses are best left to the gentle
imaginations of my readers.
I skimmed the essays, keeping one eye on the door, awaiting
Kristen's return. I heard suppressed laughter and looked up. My
blond 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,
Kristen 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, Kristen 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 Kristen'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 blond 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.
"Kristen, please pack up your things. It's time for us to go."
My blond 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.
"Kristen, 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 Kristen in my wake.
In front of me I spotted another blond 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 blond 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," hurriedly 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 blond 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 unduly.
"Okay, go back to just walking." The blond girl flowed back into
her usual athletic glide.
Kristen 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
blond 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 Kristen
followed me in.
"Stand at attention, Private Kristen," 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. Kristen hurried
to comply, and I plopped down in my desk chair to watch.
In her own abstracted way, the blond girl was a very good
dancer. The movements of her head, hands, breasts, pelvis, and feet
all counter pointed 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 Kristen 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.
"Kristen, 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, Kristen'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
possibilities, but would have been quite cramped.
"Kristen, 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.
"Kristen, 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 blond 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 Kristen 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 Kristen 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 blond girl.
"Kristen, 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."
Kristen 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.
"Kristen, 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
blond girl was a glimpse of her trim ankles turning the corner. I
went on to have even more exciting adventures with my telepathic
amplifier. Kristen never did figure out what happened to those
sandals.